Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)
Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)
Gospel Luke 10:25-37 (English Standard Version Anglicised: India)
And behold, a lawyer stood up to put Jesus to the test,
saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said
to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you
read it?” And he
answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with
all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your
neighbour as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have
answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”
But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who
is my neighbour?” Jesus replied, “A
man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers,
who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down
that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to
the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came
to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds,
pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him
to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper,
saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I
come back.’ Which of
these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbour to the man who fell among
the robbers?” He
said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”
Fr Pat McCaffrey was a classmate of mine who died suddenly in Pakistan on 18 May 2010. His first mission was Fiji, where he worked especially with Indian-Fijians and became fluent in Hindi. He was then part of the pioneering Columban group that went to Pakistan in 1979. Later he worked with people of Pakistani origin in northern England, living in Bradford. He celebrated Mass once a month with Pakistani Catholics in Nelson. Much of his work in Bradford was with refugees from the troubled Middle East. He was then reassigned to Fiji. But his final posting was back to Pakistan.
Father Pat's niece Siobhan McCaffrey describes his death in Following in Father Pat's Footsteps, an article she wrote after visiting Pakistan: On our last day, we travelled to the town of Murree, a seven-hour drive from Lahore, situated on the side of a steep hill, in the foothills of the Himalayas. Murree was where Father Pat died. He had been visiting lay missionaries there. He had left the convent [of the Presentation Sisters where he had celebrated Mass the evening before] around 6:00am to catch a bus to Rawalpindi. He was rushing to catch the bus when he died. The only person around was a street-sweeper [whose name was Latief], considered the lowest of the low in Pakistan’s caste system.
This man had
seen Father Pat holding on to the rails outside the compound and then fall back
onto the road. He went to his aid but was unable to help. He raised the alarm
at the convent and the Sisters came.
We thanked the street-sweeper for trying to help our uncle. He apologized for not being able to save him and explained that it was his moral duty to try, but that God had decided to take him and there was nothing he could do.
Father Pat's whole life was that of a follower of Jesus who had never forgotten the experience of weeping, of suffering with the poor. And God surely blessed him in allowing him to celebrate Mass the evening before he died and in sending a man from the poorest of the poor to be the first to come to his aid, a Muslim who, like Father Pat himself, had never forgotten the experience of weeping, of suffering with others.
Unlike the priest and the Levite in today's gospel, nobody passed by Father Pat when he fell. But the first to come to his aid and to raise the alarm was Latief, a street-sweeper, the very lowest on the social scale in Pakistan. Father Pat had spent most of his life as an outsider to one degree or another. He grew up in Northern Ireland where at that time there was discrimination against Catholics. He worked with Indian-Fijians in Fiji whose ancestors had been brought there to work in the sugar plantations. He ministered to immigrants from Pakistan and the Middle East in northern England, most of them Muslims. He celebrated Mass with Pakistani Catholics there, a small minority in their native land and still a small minority among those of Pakistani origin in England.
The man left half-dead in the parable of the Good Samaritan was, presumably, Jewish. He allowed himself to be taken care of by a person he would have seen as 'other' and in doing so was healed.
Knowing Father Pat as I did, I am certain that nothing would have made him happier than to be attended to in his final moments by a Muslim, Latief, who was a 'nobody' in his own country. We see the nobility of this man's character and his faith in God in what he said to Father Pat's niece Siobhan when he met her: He apologized for not being able to save him and explained that it was his moral duty to try, but that God had decided to take him and there was nothing he could do.
+++
But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion (Luke 10:33).
Jesus said, 'You go, and do likewise.'
Antiphona ad communionem
Communion Antiphon Cf
Psalm 83[84]:4-5
Passer invenit sibi domum, et turtum nidum, ubi reponet pullos suos.
Altaria tua, Domine virtutem, Rex meus, et Deus meus! Beati qui habitant in
domo tua, in saeculum saeculi laudabunt te.
The sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for her young: by your altars, O Lord of hosts, my king and my God. Blessed are they who dwell in your house, for ever singing your praise.
Traditional Latin Mass
Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
The Complete Mass in Latin and English is here. (Adjust the date at the top of that page to 7-10-2022 if necessary).
Epistle: 1 Peter 3:8-15. Gospel: Matthew 5:20-24.
Dearest Father Seán,
ReplyDeleteWell, this story did touch me and my memory of our life and work in Central Java's mountainous area came back very vividly.
Once when we were driving down from the Dieng Plateau with our driver, in front of us I saw one of the company's trucks pull up. The poorest of the poor, mainly those 'sweepers' just hung onto the back of the truck or tried to climb up. A woman in traditional Javanese sarong, fell backward as the driver pulled up... She lay there on the side of the road, bleeding from her head. I rushed out, my First Aid diploma skills from The Netherlands, forced me to ACT + being a true Catholic. The driver yelled at me: 'Don't touch her, when she dies you are responsible!'.
That never stopped me and I helped her in the back of our Kijang, in–between Pieter and me, while I commanded our driver to go as fast as possible straight down to the hospital in the city where we also lived. Knowing the language helps and I'm certain that there are Angels helping us as well.
We made it there and I arrived and was shocked at the long queue... I became very furious and demanded a stretcher: NOW! This woman needs help and attention.
They came to me and said, sorry we have no stretchers left, but a wheelchair. Okay I said but ACT and SAVE her.
They then said, will you sign for being responsible? Who is paying for her? I said, the company will and the men accompanying her (they went into the back of our Kijang) turned out not being able to write, nor read. So I filled it out and later informed the Human Resource Person. I sure got some glances from him.
Several weeks later, while walking over one of the streets at one of the mushroom farms, with a staff member. A street sweeper came running towards me and tugged my arm. While bowing for me he said in Bahasa Indonesia: 'She is alive—thank you so much!'. The staffer chased him off and apologized to me for having been bothered by him. I told him: 'No not at all, he just delivered the most joyful message to me that I could ever receive!' Then I explained what happened and I got of course a puzzled look on his face...
It has always hurt me tremendously that kind of caste system. In India we noticed it and also in Indonesia where the culture is similar due to a long Hindu influence.
Both of us always greeted all people we met on our path, be it a sweeper or a high ranking person. They ALL have a soul and who are we?!
Let's pray that this more and more selfish world will look inward and acknowledge our soul and our religion and then act according.
Hugs,
Mariette
Should have added this link: https://mariettesbacktobasics.blogspot.com/2012/08/dieng-plateau-indonesia-where-we-worked.html
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mariette, for sharing that experience. Thank God that you were able to help save that woman. I remember during a retreat many years ago hearing a young religious from a country where the caste system exists sharing an experience where he felt almost paralyzed in a situation similar to that in your story. There was a real struggle within him between the values of his Catholic faith and those of his culture. I think that all of us at one time or another have a similar struggle in one area or another of our lives, though not necessarily to an acute degree.
ReplyDeleteGod bless.
Dearest Father Seán,
ReplyDeleteYes, we all will face such a situation; no doubt.
Oh, while doing my training in the South of India, in Ooty, Tamil Nadu/India I had a conversation with one of the supervisors. She, her husband and children were Catholic and had also sent them to Catholic schools. Then she went on to say that her husband was 'BUT' a koelie or in Tamil a kuli.
That made my heart pound and I was a bit upset in her way of degrading her husband. So I replied to her somewhat fiercely: 'Don't you EVER say that he was 'BUT' a koelie. Your husband is equal to all of us, and he is a devoting Catholic who helped raise your children together with you by working hard. One day we will all get rewarded for what we really do!
It sure was painful for hearing her speak like that... It makes you realize how much emotional abuse exists in this world!
Hugs,
Mariette