Lent calls us to fast not so much from harmful addictions and preoccupations but from things benign or even salutary in themselves that may be obscuring our vision of God. Israel in the wilderness hungered and endured privations not because the natural human desire for food and clothing is a bad thing [cf Matthew 6.25-33] but so that they could learn in their heart of hearts to trust in God alone. [Deuteronomy 8.1-6]

But our fasting can give us fresh opportunities for sharing our abundance with others, for healing not only the separation betwixt us and God but also the consequent disorderly relationship between us and our fellow human beings. [cf Luke 10.29-37]  As we pray in this season for new, revitalised hearts [Psalm 50(51).10], it is fitting for us to contemplate the ways that our choices and lifestyles enslave others and deprive them of what we all desire.  By our voluntary abstinence and by turning away from preferences that harm others we may all in this Lent discover afresh the ‘one thing necessary’ which neither sin nor Satan nor death can take from us. [cf Luke 10.41-42]

The first Psalm serves as a kind of ‘table of contents’ for the whole Psalter.  We can at times find ourselves tempted by the blandishments of those who live lives at variance with God. Their siren song entices us, and our divided hearts put up only desultory resistance.  We loiter and linger along their pathway, then sit down and make ourselves at home.  But the food they set before us leaves us unsatisfied [Isaiah 55.2], their promises of easy gratification we know in our truest and best selves to be deceptions.  And then suddenly before us our eyes recognise, if only faintly at first [cf Mark 8.22-25], a Tree whose vitality inspires us to dig deeply so that we may reach its Source.

Not for nothing were the earliest Christians described as being followers of The Way.
[cf Acts 22.4]  The Christian life is a journey, a style of life, not a goal [cf Philippians 3.12].   Summoned by a voice more compelling than any we have previously heard [Mark 1.17-18] we follow, falteringly but as best as we can, in his path. [Mark 10.52]

He declares himself to be The Way. [John 14.6] To follow in his way is to take the path of the Cross [Mark 8.34-35], a tree that seems at first to be unnecessary and unwelcome suffering but then reveals itself as a ladder that connects the penury of earth to the bounty of heaven, a pathway home to the Father who is already coming to meet us.

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return.” [Genesis 3.19] God’s chilling declaration to our primal parents correlates sin—our sundered relationship to God—with death. [Romans 5.12; I Corinthians 15.22] 

Jesus offers three tools for the revitalisation, the renewal of life worthy of the name.
[John 10.10] These tools aren’t punishments so much as they are avenues for coming to our senses, returning to the embrace of a loving Father. [Luke 15.17-20]  These three tools are almsgiving, prayer, and fasting.  We arm ourselves with these weapons of self-restraint so that the Lord himself can show his pity on us, can receive us as his sons and daughters. [Hebrews 12.5-13]

The promise of the Resurrection of Christ is that his victory over death is a sign and earnest of the triumph that all his brothers and sisters [cf Luke 8.19] will share.  St Paul describes Our Lord as the ‘first fruits’ [cf I Corinthians 15.20-28], the beginnings of a great harvest that will come to its fruition in the ‘life of the world to come’ as we confess in the Nicene Creed.  

St James’ use of the phrase in today’s reading is therefore noteworthy.  ‘By his own choice he made us his children by the message of the truth so that we should be a sort of first-fruits of all that he had created.’  The ‘he’, of course, is the God whom he describes as ‘the Father of all light’.  Creation is the act of his will, the working out of a purpose which is central to his Heart
[cf Ephesians 1.3-14].  We may be described as God’s children because we were created by him [cf Genesis 1.26-27], but even more we are his children because his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, has claimed us as his brothers and sisters. [cf Romans 8.14-17; Galatians 3.29; 4.4-7]  As we enter once again upon our annual journey through the passion, death and resurrection of Our Lord, may our faith be strengthened that we, too, were created not for death but for life—life ‘worthy of the name’.  [John 10.10]

St. Scholastica, sister of St. Benedict, consecrated her life to God from her earliest youth. After her brother went to Monte Cassino, where he established his famous monastery, she took up her abode in the neighborhood at Plombariola, where she founded and governed a monastery of nuns, about five miles from that of St. Benedict, who, it appears, also directed his sister and her nuns. She visited her brother once a year, and as she was not allowed to enter his monastery, he went in company with some of his brethren to meet her at a house some distance away. These visits were spent in conferring together on spiritual matters. On one occasion they had passed the time as usual in prayer and pious conversation and in the evening they sat down to take their reflection. St. Scholastica begged her brother to remain until the next day. St. Benedict refused to spend the night outside his monastery. She had recourse to prayer and a furious thunderstorm burst so that neither St. Benedict nor any of his companions could return home. They spent the night in spiritual conferences. The next morning they parted to meet no more on earth. Three days later St. Scholastica died, and her holy brother beheld her soul in a vision as it ascended into heaven. He sent his brethren to bring her body to his monastery and laid it in the tomb he had prepared for himself. She died about the year 543, and St. Benedict followed her soon after. Her feast day is February 10th.

Yes, you can bargain with God.

The woman in this story is not a jew, she is a gentile woman, and in her time, jews would have regarded her as no better than a dog. Mark is writing to her people in his Gospel, so he is subtly using the common language of the people who regarded other races, using other languages, as barking like dogs (a literal translation of 'barbaros', the word from which we get barbarians).

The woman however turns the pun on its head: 'even dogs can eat scraps dropped by the children'. Jesus recognises in her - and by extension in all Gentiles - the possibility of salvation. As the Gospel of Mark unfolds one can detect a change in Jesus, who was initially focused on only the jewish people, but by the end, he died for the salvation of us all.

"Its what comes out of a person that makes them unclean" . .

Take this parable just as it is written, and you find a slightly humorous (if maybe in a slightly tasteless way?) argument that what you eat is irrelevant as it all ends up in the sewer anyhow. There is even an aside ('thus he pronounced all foods as clean") to help us see that.

But are parables meant to have deeper, hidden meanings?

Often - usually indeed. In this case - is it a way of commenting on the scribes and pharisees? Jesus might be saying that what comes out (of their mouths) is unclean. They would have been teaching a commitment to Mosaic tradition and law - which very strictly govern what may (and may not) be eaten. We too, can burden ourselves and others with regulation and scrupulosity. It is the over zealous attention to rules that can lead us away from God - we become focused on doing the right things, and not enough attention being paid to why.

We can protect ourselves from this by sticking to just what is important. Love God, and Love your neighbour. Aim for those and not much can go wrong!

Nagasaki, Japan, is familiar to Americans as the city on which the second atomic bomb was dropped, immediately killing over 37,000 people. Three and a half centuries before, 26 martyrs of Japan were crucified on a hill, now known as the Holy Mountain, overlooking Nagasaki. Among them were priests, brothers, and laymen, Franciscans, Jesuits, and members of the Secular Franciscan Order; there were catechists, doctors, simple artisans, and servants, old men and innocent children—all united in a common faith and love for Jesus and his Church.

Brother Paul Miki, a Jesuit and a native of Japan, has become the best known among the martyrs of Japan. While hanging upon a cross, Paul Miki preached to the people gathered for the execution: “The sentence of judgment says these men came to Japan from the Philippines, but I did not come from any other country. I am a true Japanese. The only reason for my being killed is that I have taught the doctrine of Christ. I certainly did teach the doctrine of Christ. I thank God it is for this reason I die. I believe that I am telling only the truth before I die. I know you believe me and I want to say to you all once again: Ask Christ to help you to become happy. I obey Christ. After Christ’s example I forgive my persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.”

When missionaries returned to Japan in the 1860s, at first they found no trace of Christianity. But after establishing themselves they found that thousands of Christians lived around Nagasaki and that they had secretly preserved the faith. Beatified in 1627, the martyrs of Japan were finally canonized in 1862.