Thursday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 392



As a woman about to give birth writhes and cries out in her pains, so were we in your presence, O LORD. We conceived and writhed in pain, giving birth to wind; Salvation we have not achieved for the earth, the inhabitants of the world cannot bring it forth. But your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust. For your dew is a dew of light, and the land of shades gives birth.


Our readings today complement the memorial of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, the patroness of the Carmelite Order and Queen of the Brown Scapular. They are readings of comfort for the disconsolate. 
The Prophet Isaiah uses a terribly graphic image to describe the travail of Jerusalem in his day, as they faced an apparently hopeless military situation. Trapped between the superpowers of Egypt and Assyria, having already witnessed the destruction and desecration of their former ally Israel, Judah could only wait for the axe to fall again. Their best efforts against such forces were futile, more humiliating than helpful.
We hear of similar stories in Syria today as Assad's government have pounded cities and wasted human life. His use of poison gas and explosive barrels of nails and scrap metal are barbaric but not unusual. Equally deadly weapons are sold in every major city in the United States; when the NRA goes underground a civil war as savage could break out here. Our constitution is written on paper like a marriage certificate, not in stone. And the children who expect their parents to abide by that paper document are often disappointed. 
The story of Jerusalem's travails, recorded for all time in the scriptures, must remind the faithful of our reliance on God. Our vows are made before God or not at all; our agreements with one another are no more reliable than our faith in God. Taking the Bible in hand must mean, "I will always speak the truth to the best of my ability, so help me God." 
I often recall the words of Saint Thomas More as he is portrayed in A Man for All Seasons. The royal councilor has been imprisoned for his reluctance to support the king's divorce. His daughter Margaret, fearing for his life, visits him in the Tower of London, and urges him to just "say the words of oath and in your heart think otherwise." 

He replies, "When a man takes an oath, Meg, he's holding his own self in his own hands, like water. And if he opens his fingers, then -- he needn't hope to find himself again. Some men aren't capable of this but I'd be loathe to think your father one of them. 

Christians and Catholics find our consolation in the truth. The saints and martyrs insist on this. We are not consoled by ease or comfort, luxuries and pleasures mean nothing to us. We have no truck with those who do not love the truth though we must often deal with them. We certainly worry about one another, as Meg does for her father, and the Saint does for his daughter and family. But we belong to the truth in any case. 
As we remember the consolation of Our Lady of Mount Carmel we remember her fidelity to her Son. She remained with him on Calvary; she could be no other place. If her heart knew he must be there, it could not explain it to her mind. We look to her for comfort because she found comfort even there, in the presence of her dying son.  
She found comfort also in his Resurrection, in a joy that would surely explode a human heart that was less than Immaculate. And we turn to her again, for reassurance, as we speak the truth to one another.