Dear Friends in Christ,
In a story unique to St. Luke’s Gospel, we read of a remarkable and beautiful incident in Jesus’ life. Mary of Magdalene, whose feast we celebrate tomorrow, is traditionally associated with the Mary before us today but scholars think that it is unlikely to be the same person, believing this woman to be Mary of Bethany. What is clear is that, like Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany loved the Lord. In this account, she did not wash his feet with her weeping or anoint his body with expensive nard but she showed that one thing was needed, and that was to sit at the Master’s feet and learn from him
There has always been a tension between the contemplative arm and the apostolic arm of the Church. The contemplatives are accused of being too focused on prayer whereas the apostolics are criticised for being too preoccupied with action and not placing enough emphasis on the interior life. Of course, this is too simplistic juxtaposition but there is an element of truth in it.
It is, however, hard not to feel some sympathy for Marth, who in this understanding embodies the apostolic approach, Mary can come across as a kind of ‘goody two shoes’. Martha on the other hand, has not airs and graces; she is a worker and not a shirker. Clearly both women were serving the Lord, but Mary, in Jesus’ own words, chose what is better. This doesn’t mean what Martha was doing in that moment wasn’t good or noble or worthy, or even right for her to be doing; it simply means that ultimately sitting at the Lord’s feet and learning from him who is humble and gentle or heart is the goal of our faith.
The great saints of the Church did not hesitate to serve others practically. It was aid of St. Catherine of Genoa, for example, that she used to be so preoccupied in prayer that she appeared to be in a trance. Nevertheless, if anyone needed her help, she would stop praying immediately to respond. Pope Francis is calling us all to serve others in a spirit of love and charity, but all service of God must be first rooted in prayer and hearing God speak through his Word.
Some of the early Fathers of Scripture scholarship, such as Origin, St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, discerned in the parable of the Good Samaritan a much deeper meaning than helping our neighbour. They approached the parable allegorically – in other words, as a device in which the characters or events represents or symbolise real people and real events and communicate a hidden and profound message. Approaching Scriptures allegorically can open up deeper and deeper layers to its meaning. Some theologians dislike this approach because they fear that we can read into the text significance which the original author did not intend. But they themselves often approach Scripture in the wrong way, studying and discussing it like a Shakespeare play or another ancient text. Scripture is the divine Word of God and by its very nature there are always hidden depths to plumb.
Nowadays the idea of ‘evangelism’ also carries a certain taboo element. For sure, there are conferences on the subject and books written, and the occasional Sunday homily on our call to spread the gospel, but how seriously the subject is taken is 
enthusiasm and conviction. The key is in the name: the gospel is Good News. If we don’t experience it as Good News, we don’t share it as Good News. The Holy Spirit is the One who creates within us as burning desire to both witness to and share our faith. We pray for this blessing and anointing of faith. 
Our word Eucharist has its roots in the Greek words 
Paul having suffered intensely at the hands of his fellow believers, who constantly questioned his authority and credentials, pointed to this gift of revelation as the way in which he took hold of the gospel: ‘For I would have you know, brethren, that the gospel which was preached by me is not man’s gospel. For I did not receive it from man, nor was taught it, but it came through the revelation of Jesus Christ’. There you have it in a nutshell: the two apostles were both recipients of the grace of revelation. 
One of the greatest works of the Holy Spirit was the Second Vatican Council. Pope John XXIII, the Council’s prophet and visionary, had an acute sense of the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of the Church and in us all. One of the wonderful fruits of the Council was its teaching documents. As one example, 
Two things dominate the human condition: war and fear. The opposite of war is peace; the opposite of fear is courage. Peace, as the Bishops at the Second Vatican Council taught us, is not just the absence of war but an inner tranquillity, the fruit of knowing that we are reconciled with God and justified by the blood of Christ. This peace transcends our understanding and can, if we let it, rule our hearts.
And in particular to agape love, which is rooted in self-sacrifice, in loving without thought of return, freely and unconditionally. Christian love is probably both the most important of all Christian virtues and the hardest to achieve. We may have faith, we may have hope, but don’t always have love. 
This new heart of love is a blessing of the Spirit which we receive when we call upon God’s help, grace and strength to love in those situations where we find it hard to love, to forgive, and to show mercy where we, left to our own devices, are devoid of mercy. This kind of love, agape love, is the blessing and fruit of the Spirit and to this we are called and for this we receive every spiritual blessing and grace. 
Sheep are vulnerable and needy; they need feeding, guiding and leading. They are prone to stray into danger. They are easy prey for such animals as foxes and wolves (both sly animals). On the more positive side, they are good at recognising the voice of the shepherd. If we are honest, we have to admit that the comparison of human beings and sheep is an apt one. The Anglican Book of Common Prayer includes the following confession in its liturgy: We have erred and strayed from the ways like lost sheep. We followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts.’ We are like sheep in the ways that we go astray, but the Lord is the Good Shepherd who leads us through the valley of the shadow of death to quiet verdant pastures. 
Although deeply spiritual and theologically profound, St. John’s Gospel records some very personal moments in the life of Jesus, such as when he wept at the death of Lazarus, and the incident recorded in today’s Gospel when the risen Lord cooked his disciples a fish for breakfast, inviting them to ‘Come and have breakfast’. We learn that God cares for us body and soul. By death the soul is separated from the body but our hope is that they will be reunited on the last day. The resurrection of Jesus revealed the nature of this new body – a risen body, infused with God’s light and life, and not prone to sin and death.