Something about Sunday

While many of our fellow citizens are taking the opportunity to have an extra long lie-in this Sunday, we Christian folk are busy in our churches and chapels, proclaiming the Word of God, celebrating his Sacraments and trying to be, at least for a few hours, what we long to be at all times: an icon of Christ, praying continuously to the Father, and radiating his love and compassion to all whom we meet. One of the great things about being a nun, of course, is that in the monastery it is Sunday every day, in a sense. Whatever we are doing, the focus is (or should be) always on Christ. It is when we take our gaze off him that things begin to go awry.

The words of the first reading at Mass, (Malachi 1.14 to 2.2, 8 to 10), are very sobering. They remind us that, whether we have been entrusted with the ministerial priesthood or not, as sharers in the priesthood of all believers we have a duty to live lives of transparent integrity. Perhaps this Sunday we could spend a few moments considering how we do that during the rest of the week. So often when we fail it is not for lack of goodwill but for lack of forethought.

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4 thoughts on “Something about Sunday”

  1. I have just come back from teaching the 5-7 year-olds in Sunday school. I was using the song “this little light of mine” as my starting point, (hear it with two verses on http://www.singup.org) and and found myself saying to the children “we have the light of Christ inside us; where we go, Christ goes too”. Then I thought about the places I might go to, and wondered how happy Christ would be at having to be there…; I should indeed check out the implications of “transparent integrity” beforehand! I sometimes think that the purpose of teaching the children is really just to teach myself. There is too much coincidence in my Sunday school lesson and your post for complaceny!

  2. Thank you, Kirsten. Can I offer this for your encouragement: if you didn’t take the light of Christ to those places, perhaps his light would not penetrate them. St Thérèse of Lisieux once said that she’d be happy to go to hell because it would mean that there’d be one soul there who loved God. I think one has to be a saint to say that, but it is an encouragement for the rest of us.

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