Blessed is She Who Believed

For many, many years now
my favourite Biblical passage has been,
“Blessed is she who believed
that the promise made her by the Lord
would be fulfilled.” (Luke – 1:45)

Something about that text
resonates within me.
I am convinced
that My God speaks
those same words to me
and those words feel
like my own personal motto.

“Blessed is she who believed …”
calms me, soothes me, comforts me,
reassures me.
“Blessed is she who believed …”
offers hope to me
and inspires confidence

And yet, for me,
something was always missing –
I couldn’t quite put my finger
on which promise
this passage was referring to.

Could it be,
“Where two or three are gathered
in my name …
I will be there …”? (Matthew – 18:20)

Could it be,
“Come to me, all who labour …
… and I will give you rest”? (Matthew – 11:28)

So many promises –
which one was My God referring to?

But over time
I have come to sense
that God’s promise to me is this:
“Know that I am with you always.
Yes, till the end of time.” (Matthew – 28:20)
I sense
that my own personal motto
is now complete
and I am convinced
that I am truly blessed. © Claire Murray

New World Order (John, 4:1-42)

Lord,
in today’s Gospel
we heard about the Samaritan woman
at the well.

You could have looked down on her,
like the rest of the Jews,
simply because she was a Samaritan.
You could have looked down on her,
like her own community,
because of the way
that she chose to live her life.

But you didn’t.
You treated her,
a woman shunned by her own community,
with respect.

You transformed this woman,
a reject of her own society,
into a person of importance,
the person to whom the Christ had chosen
to reveal himself.

You turned this woman,
a social pariah,
into someone who was sought-after,
the first in her community
to meet the Messiah.

Lord,
that was so typical of you –
to turn world order on its head
by choosing to spend your time
with the outcasts of society –
tax collectors and prostitutes
instead of seeking the company
of influential people
such as rabbis, priests
and political figures.

You created a new world order
by preaching about a world
where the last would be first,
where the greatest would be a servant
and where a notorious Samaritan woman
would be specially chosen
to meet the Son of God.

(c) Claire Murray, 23rd March, 2014

Zaccheus

Everyone knew Zaccheus,
befriender of Romans
and traitor of his own people.
Zaccheus was despised, rejected, hated,
a social outcast,
a tax collector.

Yet it was Zaccheus whom Jesus chose,
tiny Zaccheus,
whom everyone loathed
and who had found the perfect vantage point
in a sycamore tree.
Before multitudes of people
Jesus singled out Zaccheus
as his companion for the day.

Why?

Because Jesus looked at Zaccheus differently,
looking beyond the greedy, money-grabbing exterior
that was so clearly visible to all.
Deep within Zaccheus
Jesus saw a deep longing for God.
Jesus looked at Zaccheus
with eyes of love
and Zaccheus,
who could not be crushed by criticism
was conquered by love.
He became a new man.

The story of Zaccheus challenges me
to look at others
with eyes of love
and to search for the potential
that is in each one of us.

The story of Zaccheus challenges me
to see whether in my own life
I, too, can conquer
with love.

© Claire Murray

Lost and Found (Luke 15: 11-32)

A young man stood,
with all of the arrogance of youth,
looking down at his father
impatiently.
He viewed with disdain
the life that his father,
by dint of hard work,
had carved out for himself
and his family.
This was all such a waste of time
when there was a whole world out there,
waiting for him to discover
and enjoy!

The young man stood, confidently,
demanding to be given
all that was rightfully his,
refusing to listen to reason
as his father tried to encourage him
not to rush headlong, headstrong
and alone
into this venture.

But the young man’s mind was made up
and he later set off,
with his fortune in a bag
and a spring in his step,
looking forward to meeting
the destiny that he desired.

His father was inconsolable;
his beloved son was lost to him.

Some years later,
a bedraggled figure approached
the family home
uncertainly,
and the father gave a roar of delight
at the return of his long-lost son.
He rushed to meet his son,
greeting him with a bear hug.
The young man stood before him,
looking down at the ground,
unable to meet his father’s eyes.

This young man had lost
everything.
After initially living the high life
in an exotic land,
partying and celebrating,
he had lost all of his fortune
and with it,
all of his fair weather friends.
He had been left penniless,
alone,
and so lonely!

But just when he thought
that he had lost everything,
the young man found wisdom.
He realised
that his difficulties
were entirely of his own making
and that he had nobody to blame
but himself.

The young man found inspiration
when he realised
that he could go home to his father
and take up a place there,
not as a son,
but as one of the farm labourers.

The young man found humility
and decided to return to his father
and to admit
that he had been oh, so wrong.

The young man found courage
that he needed
to return home and face public humiliation
because of his abject failure.

Finally,
as the humble and penitent young man stood before his father,
looking down at the ground,
he found forgiveness
and he realised
that he hadn’t lost everything after all;
he had found his father’s love.

Nothing else mattered.

© Claire Murray

Carlsberg (John 21: 15 – 17)

Carlsberg adverts on TV
show two different outcomes
to an awkward social situation.
Outcome A is unpleasant.
Outcome B is nightmarish.

Fortunately in the world of Carlsberg
there’s always an Option C,
something totally off the wall
that transforms a social disaster
into a dream scenario.

One of the stories about Jesus
always left me feeling anxious;
the one where Jesus asked Peter,
three times,
if he loved him.

What on earth would I do
if Jesus asked me
whether I loved Him?
Would I have to explain, haltingly,
that while I found Him amazing
and even irresistible
I didn’t actually love Him?

I could see two possible outcomes
to this difficult situation.
Option A – Jesus would be cross with me.
Option B – Jesus would be deeply hurt.

I never should have underestimated Jesus.
I realise now that, like Carlsberg,
there was always going to be
an Option C,
something along the lines of this –
a smile, a hug and a reassurance
that Jesus loves me
just the way I am
and that loving God
would all be sorted out
in God’s own time.

Lord,
help me to remember
that with Jesus,
just like Carlsberg,
there’s always an Option C!

© Claire Murray

Five Barley Loaves (Matthew 14: 13-21)

Last night Herod threw a huge party for his friends. It was the talk of the town this morning and they reckon that people will talk about that party for years to come. Everybody who was anybody was there. The climax of the evening was when Herod arranged for his latest girlfriend to be given the gift of her dreams – the head of John the Baptist. Apparently it was presented to her on a plate. Herod’s cronies thought it was all highly entertaining. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick. It makes all of us feel sick – that is, it makes all of us Jews feel sick. It’s hard enough to cope with those Romans stealing our country, taking our hard-earned money and imposing their own law on us, but for them to turn around and behead one of our prophets! I was outraged. We all were. We don’t expect much of the Romans, but they stooped to a new low when they murdered our prophet.

We, Jews, didn’t know what to do. What could we do against the might of the Roman army? Here we were, living in our “promised land” but we felt impotent. We felt hurt. We felt ground-down. We felt downtrodden. We felt oppressed. We felt powerless. We felt lost. Some of us felt as if God had turned his back on us.

That’s what was on everyone’s minds this morning. That’s what we were all talking about when we met. Then someone mentioned that a man called Jesus was in the district. They said that he was a cousin of John the Baptist. We decided to head off to see this man Jesus for ourselves, to hear what he had to say, because we didn’t know what else to do.

When we arrived, Jesus was just arriving in a boat. He seemed surprised to see the crowds that were waiting for him. Jesus looked tired but he got out of the boat and walked over to the crowds. I watched him, wondering whether Jesus would use this opportunity to give a rousing, political speech. But he didn’t. Jesus simply walked among the people, greeting them, chatting to them, listening to them and blessing them. After a while, Jesus sat down under a tree and people began to bring their sick to him. People didn’t seem to need to hear political speeches. They seemed to be content with Jesus simply spending time among them. There was a sense of peace here and a sense that now was a time for rest and healing for everyone. Time moved on but nobody seemed inclined to leave.

After a while Jesus’s close friends approached him and started to talk to him, pointing at the crowds as they spoke. “It’s getting late; it’s time to go,” we thought to ourselves. But Jesus didn’t seem inclined to leave either. He spoke briefly to his disciples. We saw them head off and speak to some people in the crowd. They returned to Jesus and appeared to hand him some bread. Jesus looked down at the collection of food, stood up, arms outstretched. “Friends,” he called out, “Let us pray”. We all stood and bowed our heads. “Father in heaven”, he continued, “I have before me five barley loaves and two fish. You know each one of us. You love us and you know our needs. Bless us now as we sit, as friends, for this meal. In your love, bless us with what we need.” Jesus and his friends then instructed us all to sit down in small groups.

Jesus’s friends then approached each of the groups and appeared to be distributing loaves and fish for people to share. And while people passed around this bread and fish, they unpacked their own food and shared it with those in their group. Then one group which had plenty of food passed bread over to one that had very little. People smiled their thanks and sat and chatted with others in their groups. Somehow a crowd of thousands of strangers transformed into small groups of people who were concerned for each other and who were willing to reach out, help each other and support each other. There was a sense of family, of belonging, of contentment that was almost tangible. When everyone had finished eating, Jesus’s friends gathered all of the left-overs. They filled twelve baskets! Imagine, twelve baskets from five barley loaves and two fish! Darkness began to fall and we all started to drift home.

When we walked to meet Jesus this morning, we saw ourselves as five thousand people oppressed by Romans. But as we walked home again in small groups made up of old friends and new companions, we saw ourselves as people of God. We now felt a sense of family, of community, of belonging. We had a sense of being loved and cared for and we had a sense of being safe in the hands of our God. In time to come, others will say that today was the day that Jesus fed the five thousand. But I think that Jesus did more than that; not only did he feed the five thousand, he healed the five thousand!

© Claire Murray

A Heart and a Half

When I ask my friend Josie for a favour
she replies,
“Of course I’ll do that, Claire,
with a heart and a half!”
and I can hear the smile in her voice
as she speaks.

This morning I have a sense
that I am called to live my life every day
with a heart and a half.

I am called to do the myriad of daily tasks
in the humdrum of my everyday life
for the glory of My God –
preparing for work,
doing the shopping,
cooking the dinner,
hanging out the washing,
emptying bins
and even feeding the cat!

Today I feel challenged
to embrace all aspects
of my normal life
and to view even the most mundane activity
as a special task that I am doing
to the best of my ability,
willingly and joyfully
for My God,
in just the same way as Josie
when she turns up to help me out
with a heart and a half
and with a smile!

(1 Corinthians, 10:31)

© Claire Murray, 31st July 2013

Parable of the Sower

Today at Mass
we heard the parable of the sower.

In the story
some of the seed fell
on thorny ground.
The seed took root
and initially it grew
but in the end
thorns choked the young plant
which withered
and died.

I found myself thinking
how blessed I am
to have the support
of so many people
as I seek to find My God
in my ordinary, everyday life.

My husband, my children
and close friends
could very easily discourage me
from my pursuit of God
and be like the thorns
in the parable of the sower.
Instead, they choose to offer to me
support
and words of encouragement
as I make my faith journey.

Not only has My God sown in me
the seed of his Word
but he has also surrounded me
with wonderful helpmates
who support me
as I try to share My God with others
through my writings
and through song
so that the seed of God’s word
may bear fruit in my life.

I am truly blessed!

© Claire Murray, 26th July 2013

(Matthew 13: 1-9)

The Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13: 1-9)

Today at Mass
we heard the parable of the sower.

In the story
some of the seed fell
on thorny ground.
The seed took root
and initially it grew
but in the end
thorns choked the young plant
which withered
and died.

I found myself thinking
how blessed I am
to have the support
of so many people
as I seek to find My God
in my ordinary, everyday life.

My husband, my children
and close friends
could very easily discourage me
from my pursuit of God
and be like the thorns
in the parable of the sower.
Instead, they choose to offer to me
support
and words of encouragement
as I make my faith journey.

Not only has My God sown in me
the seed of his Word
but he has also surrounded me
with wonderful helpmates
who support me
as I try to share My God with others
through my writings
and through song
so that the seed of God’s word
may bear fruit in my life.

I am truly blessed!

© Claire Murray

Precious Family Time

Lord,
we’ve only two days
of our holiday left,
only two more days
of precious family time together
before we return
to the hustle and bustle
of ordinary daily family life
in Dundrod.
I find myself wondering
about your precious family time
when you were wee.

Was it time spent with Joseph
in the workshop,
feeling so grown up and important
as you swept sawdust
and long, golden wood shavings into piles?
Then eating a meal together afterwards
and swelling with pride
as Joseph mentioned to your Mammy
what a great help you had been
and how he couldn’t have done
all of that work
without you
and then adding
that he could see in you
the makings of a fine, young man
while your Mammy looked at you
with love and smiles
in her brown eyes?

A small family,
working hard
together,
sharing a meal
together,
sitting in companionable silence
together
in a tiny house
full of family
and full of love.
Precious family time!

© Claire Murray