Reflection for Monday, December 11, 2017

Monday of the Second Week of Advent
IS 35:1-10
PS 85:9AB AND 10, 11-12, 13-14
LK 5:17-26

Reflection for Sunday, December 10, 2017

Second Sunday of Advent
IS 40:1-5, 9-11
PS 85:9-10-11-12, 13-14
2 PT 3:8-14
MK 1:1-8

The first reading begins a section of the Book of Isaiah that is usually referred to as "Deutero" Isaiah or "Second" Isaiah. Written during the Babylonian Exile in the 6th century BC, it offers hope for exiles to return home when they could easily imagine that God had either lost in combat with the Babylonian gods or had written them off and found another people. So after all the indictments of some of the prophets leading up to the Exile, including "First" Isaiah, now the prophet can say it is at last time to comfort the people who have lost so much. When the prophet says:

A voice cries out:
In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!

as much as anything the way is for the exiles to come home - God does not need a highway to travel on, right? To "prepare the way" this Advent by repenting is great, but do we repent just about religiously-oriented things like, "I promise to pray more or go to church more" (of course, please do those things) or do we repent for things that keep people in exile in one form or another? This Advent, can we repent of racism, sexism, xenophobia, etc. - and repent in a way that is not just beating our breast but confronting our participation in violent systems and look to change not just attitudes but policies and customs and social norms?

Reflection for Saturday, December 9, 2017

Saturday of the First Week of Advent
IS 30:19-21, 23-26
PS 147:1-2, 3-4, 5-6
MT 9:35-10:1, 5A 6-8

The words in today’s first reading, from the Book of Isaiah, restores faith in the reader that God will bring redemption in the face of the suffering that life in this imperfect world inevitably brings.  Isaiah says,

“Thus says the Lord GOD,

the Holy One of Israel:

O people of Zion, who dwell in Jerusalem,

no more will you weep;

He will be gracious to you when you cry out,

as soon as he hears he will answer you.”

This is an incredibly hopeful and comforting passage, especially for those who have suffered intense pain, whether from loneliness, heartbreak, systematic oppression including racism, homophobia, sexism, and xenophobia, grief from loss, illness, or any other struggle.  In the midst of this suffering, it can seem as if God has abandoned us.  However, if we look at God’s love through a lens of liberation, we can see that although we suffer now, in this life, we will find redemption later on, when the Lord comes, and He “will give you the bread you need and the water for which you thirst.  This is especially relevant in this beautiful season of Advent, in which we as Christians exist in a constant state of waiting for the coming of Christ.  We pray and we struggle for justice as our way of waiting for Jesus, who hears our cries, to come and redeem those who suffer.

Julia Murphy is a junior English major.

Reflection for Friday, December 8, 2017

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
GN 3:9-15, 20
PS 98:1, 2-3AB, 3CD-4
EPH 1:3-6, 11-12
LK 1:26-38

Today’s solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary is about the redemption of human history and recovering our sense of who we truly are in the eyes of God. The first reading recalling the Fall of Adam and Eve points to the immediate distortion of how they viewed each other and how they viewed God as a result of their sin and disobedience. Once that relationship was broken by their disobedience, they came to see God who was the source of everything good in their lives as an enemy and a threat and they also blame each other for the sin they fell into. The second reading recalls a deeper history though, remembering that since before the foundation of the world, God called each one of us as his beloved children into his own adoption. We who are lost are sought out and adopted by God who desires to call us (through the life, death and resurrection of His Son) his beloved children.

Today is a day then, for us to be reminded of who we truly are, not according to what I see in myself, but according to what God sees. Because all of us have, to varying degrees, distorted visions of ourselves, we cannot totally trust those judgments we come up with on our own. We do well to let God have the first word and tell us who we are and what his plan of life is for us.

Fr. Chris Collins, SJ is Assistant to the President for Mission and Identity. 

Reflection for Thursday, December 7, 2017

Memorial of Saint Ambrose, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
IS 26:1-6
PS 118:1 AND 8-9, 19-21, 25-27A
MT 7:21, 24-27

"Advent" derives from the Latin word adventus --"coming" -- which was used to translate the Greek word parousia - the word used in the New Testament to refer to Jesus' Second Coming. I tend to think each Advent of celebrating the coming of Jesus in the historical past and in a renewed way each Christmas more than I think about Jesus' ultimate return at the end of history.

Certainly we imagine the full realization of the coming of the kingdom of God as yet to be attained, but just as certainly we recognize the presence of Jesus in our midst here and now. As the Scripture scholars put it, "already, but not yet." But focusing on waiting for Jesus can give Advent a decidedly passive character - like we are taking these four weeks just waiting for Jesus to show up (and hope he does not notice how much Candy Crush we are playing on our phones while we wait):



But we are not just waiting for something to happen to us, we hope for something happening within and among us, which I think means that we have a part to play. As the gospel for the day put it,

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,'
will enter the Kingdom of heaven,but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. (MT 7:21)

The kingdom of God is at hand, says Jesus again and again - it is coming, but we have a part to play in it getting here and it won't get here without us. "May thy kingdom come" means, in large part, "may thy will be done on earth." The kingdom is not where we go when we die, it is what is happening here and now, never fully or once and for all, but in the building the world of which God dreams - that the blind see and the prisoners be set free and the poor hear and experience good news for a change - and on and on and on.

Imagining that better world is easy, particularly given how much destructiveness is clearly visible around us. Getting there is of course harder, but I think we know it won't happen just by us waiting for it. (Granted, it won't happen if we just try really hard either - the world of which God dreams is BEYOND us, but it is not WITHOUT us.) How do we as individuals and as a university community participate in overcoming all of the forces in our world that oppose human flourishing?

Jesus does not truly come into our world on December 25 if we do not make him tangible and make his words have impact on every other day of the year. In Advent we anticipate what is coming not by waiting for it to show up out of nowhere but by dreaming of it and yearning for it and working to make it a reality.

Patrick Cousins works in the Department of Campus Ministry.

Reflection for Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Wednesday of the First Week of Advent
IS 25: 6-10A
PS 23:1-3A, 3B-4, 5, 6
MT 15:29-37

In today’s readings, mountains are mentioned a couple of times. In both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures mountains are mentioned at least 500 times and the use of mountain imagery is meant to signify significant moments in the life of the Hebrew people and early Christian communities. Mountains not only literally dotted the landscape in and around Jerusalem, but they reminded people of the closeness of God. When one was on a mountain, they were closer to God both literally and figuratively. For me mountains have always been a place of beauty and a reminder of the transcendence of God. I remember hiking up Mount Tunari in Bolivia and thinking how majestic the world seemed from that altitude. I was simultaneously exhausted, terrified, and exhilarated. It is true that my perspective was transformed from that experience.

I think it is by no mistake that today’s readings, the first reading from Isaiah and the Gospel from Matthew, were chosen during this first week of Advent. The mountain in Isaiah is describing the Kingdom where there will be rich feasting and an end to suffering. God, in this Kingdom, will destroy death forever and restore people to a new sense of life. In the Gospel, Matthew describes Jesus on the mountain where he does exactly what the LORD of Isaiah is promising…a restoration to health and a promise of new life. Jesus, it can be argued, is not only on the mountain where the “veil that veils all peoples” will be destroyed, but he is the mountain. This is not only a statement of the power of God, but it is a personal and communal challenge.

Just as an experience of climbing a mountain can change our vision of the world below, so too are we challenged this Advent to stretch our imagination for how the world should be. The coming of the Kingdom that we hope for during Advent is not just about Jesus and his historical birth into the world, but also about how we are called to help birth the Kingdom in today’s world. This Advent, perhaps we are called to the mountain- to have our perspectives stretched, our hopes renewed, and our commitment to building a more just world affirmed.

Ben Smyth directs the Service Leadership Program in the John Cook School of Business.

Reflection for Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Tuesday of the First Week of Advent
IS 11:1-10
PS 72:1-2, 7-8, 12-13, 17
LK 10:21-24

He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.

Justice shall be the band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.

                During this first week of Advent, we prepare for the coming of our Lord, Jesus Christ. We come together waiting to celebrate the wonderful moment that is the birth of Jesus, and we hope for the second coming our Savior. Today’s readings serve to exemplify this feeling of hope that we all during this season by challenging us that we must always stand for truth and justice. This passage calls all of us to be like the lineage of Jesse by giving hope and a voice to those who are hopeless and voiceless. With tensions running high in our city, I do not believe this passage could have come at a better time because it encourages to find the strength to do what is right.  This passage seeks to reiterate that even though it may be easier for us to overlook the injustices we see every day, we must push continually push ourselves to “slay the wicked” and to be a champion for justice. It demands us to remember the privilege we have as SLU students, and the importance of using entitlement as a positive method for righteousness.

                Truly, I know how easy it is to fall into a place of deflation. With so many things happening in our country today, you could effortlessly fall into a place of despair; however, we must know that we can accomplish all things if we keep our faith in our God. The spirit of the Lord is within all of us, so we must know that we are not powerless because we have Him. It is through Him that we can restore hope to those that may feel hopeless, to help those that are helpless, and to bring justice to those who suffer from the evils of injustice. This season, we are being called to do the work of our Savior. We are being encouraged to put the “service to humanity” of our university’s mission into action. And we must realize that while serving humanity may seem like a large task, it all begins with a little bit of hope and faith in He who live in us.

Jay Hardin is a senior from Dyersburg, TN studying Health Management with a minor in Health Information Management. He has served students at SLU in multiple roles including: Vice President of Internal Affairs for SGA, the SLU 101 Leader program, and as an intern in the Office of Admission. 

Reflection for Monday, December 4, 2017

Monday of the First Week of Advent
IS 2:1-5
PS 122:1-2, 3-4B, 4CD-5, 6-7, 8-9
MT 8:5-11

How often do you hope/pray/dream of  “Peace on Earth?”

It should be part of our constant prayers, yet if you are like me sometimes we grow weary of praying for peace when our world---our city---even our campus seems filled with conflict, hatred and discontent.  “Peace on Earth” seems like a trite expression left to Christmas cards and beauty pageant contestants.  We know this is God’s dream for our world yet too often Peace seems beyond our reach.

Does it even matter?!

Advent is our annual reminder that YES...our prayers do matter.  When we feel weighed down by the woes of the world Isaiah and Matthew quickly remind us struggle has always been part of the human story yet is never the endpoint!

Advent is like a “reset” button...a divine reminder to be patient beyond measure. When Light seems impossible in the darkest of days, God continues to surprise us with unexpected prophets, like the Centurion in today’s reading.  It’s hard to say what is more surprising---the Centurion seeking Jesus to heal his lowly servant or his humility in claiming he is not worthy before Jesus!  Both actions upset the social order of the day and recognize young Jesus as more than a carpenter’s son.

It’s no accident this passage from Matthew about the military leader’s humility is paired with Isaiah’s beloved image of “Beating swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks.”  Both texts remind us sometimes it is the curious voice of an outsider that breaks through the darkness and sheds light in wondrous ways.  Peace on Earth and goodwill to all becomes a deep, resonant hope we shall never dismiss.

Keep awake, dear ones. Our world needs ambassadors of Peace & Light now more than ever…

Rev. Rebecca Boardman serves as the Lutheran Campus Pastor (ELCA) for the St Louis Area, primarily at SLU & Washington University.

Reflection for Sunday, December 3, 2017

First Sunday of Advent
IS 63:16B-17, 19B; 64:2-7
PS 80:2-3, 15-16, 18-19
1 Cor 1:3-9
MK 13:33-37

I don’t know about the rest of you, but anytime I hear this Gospel passage from Mark, I get filled with more than a little anxiety. Jesus’ instruction to the disciples to be continuously on guard, watching for when the Lord of the house might be coming back, sometimes feels more anxiety-producing than helpful. Generally my internal reaction to this is something like, “Come on, Jesus, help a sister out! Can’t you give me some clue as to when you’re coming back so I can just hang out until then?” It’s a little like when I was a teenager and my parents asked me to get the house clean while they were out of the house, and I wasn’t really sure when they’d be back exactly. I’d sit on the couch watching TV for a good long while, but there was always that twinge of anxiety at the back of my mind wondering if I was giving myself enough time to do the chores before they walked in the door (and of course it was out of the question for me to just get them done first and then relax…). Usually what ended up happening was that I’d get sucked into the show I was watching and not lift a finger until I heard the ominous sound of the garage opening, then I’d rush to tidy a couple things and station myself at the sink washing dishes dutifully as they walked in the door (this never really fooled them for a second).

Luckily the other readings for today help put Jesus’ command to the disciples in context, making it a little less anxiety-producing. It turns out, according to Paul in his letter to the Corinthians, we don’t have to do all this waiting and watching alone with only our own efforts to keep us going. He reminds us that because of the grace we have received through Jesus, we “are not lacking in any spiritual gift” as we do this waiting and watching, and that God will keep us “firm to the end, irreproachable on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” This promise is the answer to the cry in the first reading from the prophet Isaiah, where the Israelites are aware of their sinfulness and crying out to God to keep them on the right path, saying “would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways!” So it looks like God isn’t interested in giving us a shortcut, providing a clue for when Jesus might come again so we aren’t caught looking like lazy teenagers. Instead, God promises to sustain us in our efforts to continue Jesus’ work here on earth, such that our watchfulness may be transformed from a passive waiting to an active building, participating in, and celebrating the Kingdom here on earth. Let us begin this Advent season mindful of that call to action and trusting in the God who empowers and sustains us in our response.

Michelle Verner is the Campus Minister in Reinert Hall.

Reflection for Saturday, December 24, 2016

Fourth Saturday of Advent
2 SM 7:1-5, 8B-12, 14A, 16 
PS 89:2-3, 4-5, 27 AND 29 
LK 1:67-79

As Advent draws to a close and we are on the cusp of the beginning of the Christmas season, Campus Ministry would like to thank you for journeying with us through these four weeks. We are grateful to our friends across the university community who have shared their reflections on the meaning of this season in their lives and as we are all drawn together into the mystery of the coming of the Kingdom of God in the Incarnation. We hope these reflections have helped you in your own preparation and conversion of heart and life. All of us in Campus Ministry wish a very merry and sacred Christmas to you, to your loved ones, and to the entire Saint Louis University community.


In today's first reading, David speaks in dismay that God only has a tent while David has a house of cedar, and we can understand that impulse: we want to give God the best to demonstrate our devotion and to signify where our priorities are. Just look at Catholic church art and architecture and see that impulse at work - God is exalted and majestic, so we want to build exalted and majestic edifices to give God the glory more clearly. While David did not end up building a more elaborate dwelling for God, his son Solomon did, and it became one of the architectural marvels of the ancient world (except that he imposed massive taxes and conscripted labor on his people to get it built). Hard to disagree with that impulse to honor God the way we honor our great leaders (palaces, thrones, gold, and so on), except that God inverts this image of the "glory of God" in the coming of Jesus, who looks like what God is actually about (see Colossians 1:15) - Jesus' God is not only the God OF the marginalized and poor, but a God who IS marginalized and poor. Thomas Merton, the great American Trappist monk, wrote about the poor Christ in a reflection on Christmas titled "The Time of the End is the Time of No Room," an allusion to the "no room at the inn" of Luke's nativity story:

"Into this world, this demented inn, in which there is absolutely no room for Him at all, Christ has come uninvited. But because He cannot be at home in it, because he is out of place in it, and He must be in it, His place is with those others for whom there is no room. His place is with those who do not belong, who are rejected by power because they are regarded as weak, those who are discredited, who are denied the status of persons, tortured, exterminated. With those for whom there is no room, Christ is present in this world. He is mysteriously present in those for whom there seems to be nothing but the world at its worst. For them, there is no escape even in imagination. They cannot identify with the power structure of a crowded humanity which seeks to project itself outward, anywhere, in a centrifugal flight into the void, to get out there where there is no God, no man, no name, no identity, no weight, no self, nothing but the bright, self-directed, perfectly obedient and infinitely expensive machine."

This passage feels (admittedly biased by my love of Merton's writings) at least as relevant today as it was when he wrote it 50 years ago - our news feeds are jammed full of reports of the obliteration of lives in so many places around the world; the rise of violent crimes based on racism, misogyny, Islamophobia, homophobia and transphobia; environmental degradation at home and abroad, particularly afflicting the poor and people of color; and so many other relentless manifestations of assaults on human dignity. The Christ whom we celebrate came as a person of color in a marginalized corner of the Roman empire -quickly to become a refugee in Egypt, poor and threatened by state-sponsored violence. He came not to simply be a better king than Herod or Caesar, but one who overturns the very notion that power is best or only understood from on high. So when God through Nathan rhetorically asks David, "Should you build me a house to live in?" this is not only because God is beyond the need for a palace, but because a palace misrepresents God - it makes God into the king, the emperor, the god that so easily legitimates the self-aggrandizement of earthly kings and powers in the first place. Rather, it is in that tent, in that manger, in that flight to Egypt, that Christ enters and dwells with those who are under threat, just like Him.

Patrick Cousins is the Assistant Director of Campus Ministry.