Sunday, 12 October 2025

Gratitude Is Uniting - Thanksgiving 2025

 


            A day set aside to give thanks on purpose. On this Thanksgiving I wonder if we have considered how our heart is? Is it full of gratitude? Is it aware of blessings? Is it just considering it to be just another day with the bonus of a bigger meal?

    Philemon of Gaza, a monk from the sixth century wrote: “Ingratitude is a serious spiritual malady that affects the heart and soul. Ingratitude is a kind of interior leprosy” (Meditations on Luke’s Gospel). To be truly thankful, means we know all we have comes from God. Taking note of what we are thankful moves us from ingratitude to gratefulness. Gratitude heals the leprosy of our hearts and interior scars and aligns us again with God; being clothed in God’s goodness (Colossians 3.12-17).

        As St. John Chrysostom reminds us, “Our acts of thanksgiving add nothing to God’s happiness, but they unite us more closely to God” (Homilies on Saint Matthew). This being closely united to God is at the heart of letter to the Colossians. To take note of being God’s chosen ones, of our holiness, our belovedness and the call to action declares we are rooted in thankfulness. Not as means of pleasing God, rather united with God and God’s actions of love, mercy and goodness. 

        On this Thanksgiving Day, as we celebrate the harvest and our many blessings may we carry gratitude into the places we are called to carry the gospel. May we have a heart filled with gratitude, not perfection, rather gratitude returning all praise and glory to God. May we live as God’s chosen ones, not boastful and prideful, rather with open hands to receive Christ who poured himself out for us. Let us give thanks to God from the rising of the sun to its setting (Psalm 113) for all our blessings, now and forever. Amen.  


Photo Credit: Priscilla Du Preez




Saturday, 4 October 2025

Feast Day of St. Francis - St. Clare: Faithful Companion At Each Hour


Many of us probably don’t think about our death on a regular basis. In fact, many of us probably avoid the conversation. However, it is good for us to consider “Sister Death” as Francis would say and ponder what would truly be a blessing “at the hour of death.”  To consider our sister death, means we open our heart to trust in God and the mercy, compassion and new life only God can offer. To ponder the blessings of the hour when we take our final breath more than likely means we think of certain people.

When Francis lay dying on the eve of October 3, 1226, he desired his brothers who had been with him from the beginning to be closest to him. He also desired the companionship of Lady Jacoba and his sister Clare. He would request his brothers sing to him the Canticle of Creatures. He would request Lady Jacoba to bring cookies. From Clare he would desire prayer, closeness, vision and continued friendship. Clare offered all of these to Francis. She was present to him in his living and dying. She didn’t forget him as he was placed in the grave, rather she became an anchor for the Franciscan family. 

I think of St. Clare as we St. Francis on his transitus. I think of her courage earlier in their story to leave everything behind and set a new pattern for living. I think of how she trusted, yes, in God but also in Francis and his vision for gospel living. I think of her compassion toward Francis. I believe she kept him grounded when he was lost in emotions and uncertainty reminding him of his vision in Christ. I think of how after his death she persevered in her leadership seeing through her rule of life being approved just before her meeting of sister death. I think of her friendship with Francis, how “instead of looking at each other, Clare and Francis looked in the same direction… Jesus, poor, humbled and crucified” (Raniero Cantalamessa, O.F.M. Cap.). To look at the poor, humbled, crucified Crist is look at love and the depth of relationship. 

Thinking of St. Clare on the Feast of St. Francis, I consider those in my life who continue to show up. Those companions who don’t look to me but look with me toward our final home with hope. Those companions who are not afraid to have the hard conversations and still offer compassion. Those companions who like Clare for Francis, know my heart; it’s brokenness and its hope. Each year as we mark the passing of Francis from this world into the next, I am reminded one day this too will be my moment. I trust like Francis I will have someone like Clare by my side, who will whisper into my ears, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15.55).