Reflection by Rev. Leonard N. Peterson

I suppose it's a natural choice on this occasion of our 250th anniversary as a nation to focus on the famous people linked with our founding particularly in terms of their special qualities. These make not only for good observation but also for worthy imitation. So, we have, for example, George Washington's courage. Or Thomas Jefferson's eloquence. John Adam's persistence and Ben Franklin's inventiveness. You may have a different list of qualities for the same roster. But all of it would be seen as a tribute to their foresight and vision for what became the United States of America.

Yet on any Sunday morning, of high festivity or more regular celebration, we must pay decisive attention to God's holy Word in the Bible as the first half of every Mass. We call it "the Liturgy of the Word" and so it is. From it we learn various lessons on how best to imitate Christ Jesus Our Lord by focusing on qualities of His seen in their perfection. This ensemble of Readings today puts the accent on His less heralded virtue called "gentleness."

That word needs clarification, if for no other reason than the times we live in might argue that it is a waste of time and effort. Here is a good definition of it that I discovered: "Gentleness in the Bible is described as a vital characteristic that embodies humility, kindness, and patience, reflecting inner strength rather than weakness. It is often associated with Our Lord's teachings, and it is encouraged as a fundamental aspect of Christian conduct in relationships with others."

In the gospel for today we have a beautiful aspect of Our Lord's teaching on gentleness: His invitation for all those who are feeling burdened, tired, or overwhelmed, to come to Him for rest and comfort. In today's fast paced world, where stress and burnout are common, we need to hear Him. He wants us to adopt that gentleness in dealing not only with others, but also with ourselves. That's the formula for true peace. Even if we are never as famous as George, Thomas, John and Benjamin.

In the first grade, Miss Grant said that my purple tepee wasn't realistic enough, that purple was no color at all for a tent, that purple was the color of people when they died, and that my drawing wasn't good enough to hang with the others. I walked back to my seat, head bowed. With a black crayon, I brought nightfall to my purple tent in the middle of the afternoon.

In the second grade, Mrs. Henson said, "Draw anything." She didn't care what. I left my paper blank and when she came around to my desk, my heart beat like a tom-tom. She touched my head with her small hand and in a soft voice said, "The snowfall. How clean and white and beautiful!"

God love you and give you a gentle heart.