There I Am How many parents haven’t heard the cry. “Mom, make Paul stop hitting me!” Or how many families are torn apart by members not speaking to one another? It seems as though where there are human beings, there are differences. Where there are differences,there are conflicts. Where there are conflicts, there is either destructive contention or healing reconciliation. In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus acknowledges inevitable conflicts arising among those living in the community of the church! Rifts in relationships between members of the church are actually rifts in the relationship with Jesus himself. This is why church conflicts cannot be ignored. Too much is at stake: our relationship with Jesus, upon which rests our relationships with each other. The last line of today’s Gospel gives us a clue as to what underlying motivation is really the strongest for seeking reconciliation among ourselves. Our strongest motivation urging us to heal conflicts and safeguard te unity is our common identity of being the Body of Christ. We ourselves are not the reconcilers; it is the power of Christ acting through his Body. Lasting reconciliation demands an openness to Christ, which is to say, each other.
Take Up Your Cross Parents do not wish bad things to happen to their children. Good business people do not want the economy to go sour. Healthy people do not want illness. We don’t want it to rain on our picnic! We have a natural instinct to avoid what we perceive as bad for us. We want good things in life. Yet we hear in this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus telling us to act contrary to our human instincts! He is telling us to lose our life; to deny ourselves; to take up the cross! No wonder Peter rebukes him. Jesus teaches his disciples to let go of the old self so a new self can be given. Jesus’ followers must deny themselves, let go of self-will, human way of thinking in order to find Life. And it will take a lifetime to embrace this new Life. The challenge is to let go so God can lead us. We are called to surrender ourselves. This is not without cost to us: lose our impatience with others; lose our insistence on having our own way; lose our desire to be comfortable with the familiar to move us toward new Life. In all of these and many other we are allowing God to refashion us into new selves imbued with new Life in Christ.
Who Do People Say I Am? In this week’s Gospel, Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do you say that am?” I’m sure that it is a result of having to face hard questions last week about whether or not Jesus could be wrong, but this conjures up images for me of times in my life when I’ve felt insecure and unsure of myself. To my closest friends I might ask, “What do you think I’m like, really?” or, more likely, “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” There are moments in our lives when we just need some extra reassurance that we really are okay. Is that what was happening with Jesus? I don’t think there are any scholars who would go with me on this one. And, to be honest, I’m not real sure I can either. But, I do like the question. I do appreciate considering a time in the life of Jesus when he had to look at Peter and say, “You think I’m doing this right, don’t you?” Of course, he began with what all the others had to say about who the “Son of Man” is. But, just as quickly as they answer, he turns it on them, “But what about you?” Is this a test of their own faith or an identity crisis for which Jesus needs some comfort and reassurance? Whatever it is, Peter is quick to answer. Isn’t he always? “You are the Messiah, of course!” And, this seems to do the trick. For whatever it was that Jesus was looking, he got it and turns his attention away from himself and back to his followers – Peter, in particular, the rock. There is a word for us as well. “Whatever you bind on earth, bound in heaven. Whatever you loose on earth, loose in heaven. Here, take these. They are the keys to the kingdom.” And, so our own identity crisis begins. [su_quote]”How can that be?” “How could God allow that kind of power to rest with humans?” “Who am I to bind or loose anything on earth, much less in heaven?”[/su_quote] Jesus chose ordinary human beings who simply open themselves to the capacity to be great believers because they are first great hearers of the revelation. Revelation means that we open our eyes to see and our ears to hear and our hearts to experience Jesus’ Presence and power in the daily happenings around us. The infant who utters the first word and delights parents,, a person with Alzheimer’s who has a rare moment of recognition, the unexpected good deed that comes our way can all be revelations of Jesus’ identity and saving power. We only need to pay attention to our experience and recognize and receive the gift that is given to us.
All Are Welcome [su_quote]Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David![/su_quote] A lot of name-calling goes on in today’s Gospel. Matthew calls this woman a Canaanite; not a polite way of referring to a citizen of the lands north of Israel in Syro-Phonenicia. He might as well say ‘worthless disenfranchised pagan.” Jesus, of course, compares his responsibility to Israel [his children] and others [the dogs]. In terms that hardly seem more charitable. At least he acknowledges her as part of the household, although a rather demeaned part. God’s plan in welcoming the Gentiles was not to exclude Israel, just as God’s election of Israel was intended ultimately to welcome all humanity into the family of God. It is difficult for us, because we so often desire to divide the world into us and them, to remember that our salvation is dependent not upon the sort of people we are but upon the mercy of God, which is for all people. The woman throws out a few names of her own: “Lord” is a term of respect, not necessarily God-language in ancient days. The most important name she uses is “Son of David.” With this phrase she recognizes Jesus as Israel’s rightful ruler and God’s anointed. In the end, her name-calling trumps the lot and carries the day! She saw Jesus clearly and he saw her for who she truly was, a woman of faith. What demon torments us? It might be consumerism; false expectations and hopes that take us away from the Gospel values; self-centeredness that separates us from those who care for us. What heals our demon? Focusing on Jesus, being turned toward the good of others. Persistence in seeking the good of others is possible only when we have healthy relationships. Both prayer and good works require persistence, for that is how we form ourselves in the good habits of being turned toward God and others.
God Crossings Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid. Even true believers can be scared out of their wits by current events. We all have toleration thresholds where doubt creeps in. For some, it is illness. For others, it could be financial shotrfall or personal betrayal, or Church scandal. For the fishermen in our Gospel today, it’s a night on the water when they lose control of a situation they should have had well in hand. They know this sea, this boat. This is their business! Yet the disciples are so spooked by a storm that even when help arrives in the person of Jesus, they are spooked by him, too. In the midst of our darkest hour of fear, Jesus invites us to faith. Just when we are shuddering and our teeth are chattering with terror, Jesus asks us to get out of the boat. This isn’t really about faith, but about the strength of our relationship with him. If we walk toward Jesus in the worst of times, do we trust he’ll reach out his hand?
Give Them Food Our reflection today is from Father George Smega: There was a saying that became popular in the U.S. Army during the Second World War: What is difficult, we will do immediately. What is impossible will take a little bit more time. In today’s Gospel, Jesus asks his disciples to do the impossible. They are in a deserted place and, without resources or means, he asks them to feed a crowd of over 5,000 people. All they have is five loaves and two fish. This simply can’t be done. And yet, by the end of the story, all have eaten and are satisfied. Indeed, 12 baskets of fragments are left over. So how are we to understand this story of Jesus? Why does Jesus ask his disciples to do the impossible? And is he in some way asking us to do the same? A popular Christian storyteller by the name of Bob Benson relates an incident from his own life that can help us answer this question. Bob was planning to go to his parish’s summer picnic but he was running late. By the time he was ready to go, he realized he didn’t have any food to bring. He looked in his refrigerator and all he could find was two slices of bread, one dried slice of baloney, and a little mustard in the bottom of the jar. It would have to do. He made himself a pathetic baloney sandwich, put it in a brown bag, and went to the picnic. He found a place in the pavilion next to a family that had brought a feast: fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, sliced tomatoes, olives, and four homemade chocolate pies. Bob opened his bag and began to eat his sandwich. One of the members of the family next to him saw this and came over and said: “Bob, I have a suggestion. Why don’t we put our food together? We have more than enough chicken, potato salad, and baked beans. Moreover, everybody in our family loves baloney sandwiches.” So that’s what they did. Bob ate like a king, although he came like a pauper. Now, in effect, this same thing is what happens in today’s Gospel. Jesus tells his disciples: “Bring me what you have, the fives loaves and the two fish—whatever. Let’s put that together with what I have and then see what happens.” Jesus extends this same invitation to us. When we have to face something that seems to be impossible in our life, he invites us to join our resources. At times we have to face a new challenge in our work, at home, at our job, at school. We look at the challenge and say: “I don’t think that I have the wisdom or the skill to pull this off. Doing this seems impossible.” Jesus says: “Why don’t you take your skill and put it together with mine, and let’s see if we can do this together.” When there is somebody we love who is in trouble because of sickness, a dysfunctional relationship, or an addiction to alcohol or drugs, we want with all our hearts to make that situation better for them. But we know it’s a decision they need to make for themselves. We cannot make it for them. Jesus says to us: “Why don’t you bring me your care and your love and we’ll put it together with my care and love. Then together let’s see if we can make a difference”. When we lose someone that we love because of death, misunderstanding, or divorce, when we have to leave a situation that is comfortable and familiar and face something that is unknown to us, we can look at those situations and say: “I don’t have the strength to do this.” Jesus says to us: “Bring me the strength that you have and let’s put it together with my strength. Then together let’s face the future.” Now, the invitation that Jesus gives us is quite specific. He doesn’t say to us: “Sit back and let me do everything.” He asks us to contribute what we have, no matter how small it might seem. He wants us to bring to him the little strength, wisdom, or hope that we have and put it together with his. Of course, there is no guarantee that every time we try we will succeed and that all of our troubles will evaporate. But when you have to face the impossible, it is better not to face it alone. If something is difficult, do it immediately. But if something is impossible, it is better to join your forces with the Lord.
Saints Peter and Paul Have you ever found a moment in life when you asked “what is life really all about?” How did you answer? Where was Jesus in your answer? Sometimes reflection comes not at the end of life, but before great questions of life. For the followers of Christ, the question “What is life all about?” could be asked in another way: “Who are you, Jesus?” In our Gospel today, Matthew’s narrative on the great question can be divided into two sections: the question of Jesus with Simon’s response and Jesus’ mission for Simon. “Who are you, Jesus?” In a non-Jewish neighborhood of Galilee, Jesus popped the question. In an atmosphere of anticipation for the time of God’s judgement, the disciples must have been asking themselves the same question. “We are following you, Jesus,” they may have wondered, “but what’s your place in God’s great plan?” Many expected Elijah to announce the coming of the Messiah before the end of the world. The paranoid Herod Antipas, the ruler who beheaded John the Baptist, was said to believe that Jesus was actually the Baptist raised from the dead! There were many other theories. Did Jesus fit any of these popular ideas, or was there more? Simon, as the leader of the apostles, spoke up. His words represent the consensus of Jesus’ inner circle. In Matthew, Simon’s answer “Son of the living God” defined the title “Messiah.” Jesus was not a political Messiah, one who would lead an army against the Romans. He was not a popular Messiah, who would merely feed the poor. Here, Simon recognizes the unique relationship between Jesus and God, his Father. In return for the answer to his question, Jesus “anointed” Simon with a blessing and a mission. Simon was blessed in two ways: 1) by a direct revelation by the Father and 2) by recognition from his Son. Then Jesus gave Simon a new mission, represented by a new name and a new status. Jesus called Simon, Peter, or “Rock.” Now, Peter was not only leader of the apostles; he was leader of the Church with the power of its head, Jesus Christ. Peter’s answer and commission marked a turning point in the life of Jesus and his followers. From this point forward, Jesus was on the road to Jerusalem, to his death and his resurrection. Who are you, Jesus? This question has been asked over and over throughout the centuries. For Christians, the answer is simple: Jesus is God’s Son and the bridge between the Father and his people. When we spend our lives coming to know Jesus more fully, we also come to know that it is not enough to conform ourselves to the externals. Knowing Jesus requires an ongoing conversion of heart. We are to be living examples of followers of Jesus who risk everything and give everything because we know and love him.
Come To The Water In the sprinkling rite on Sundays in Easter time you see and feel the water that recalls your baptism. The rite used to be accompanied by an antiphon beginning Vidi aquam, or “I saw the water,” referring to Ezekiel’s vision of life-giving water flowing from the side of the Temple. John’s gospel associates those words with the water flowing from Christ’s side on the cross. As Jesus foresaw, the Temple (in Jerusalem) would be destroyed, while the temple of his body would rise in three days’ time. All this water reminds you that the significance of your baptism can never be overemphasized. Your entire life in Christ flows from it.
The Empty Tomb Anyone who has ever been to a burial service in a cemetery knows how gaping the six-foot hollow in the earth is. If we peer into the empty space, it seems to go down forever. It is deep, foreboding, not just a little bit frightening. We are much more comfortable when the casket is lowered, the earth has been replaced and cultivated and planted, and living green grassreplaces the gaping hollow. Death and tombs have a finality about them. No doubt so Mary, Peter and John believed as they raced to the place where the lifeless Jesus had been laid. They simply did not yet understand. They sought a lifeless body and found an empty tomb. They queried about “where” and discovered “what”. They simply did not yet understand. They simply did not understand that he had to rise from the dead. Our belief in the Resurrection must begin with the empty tomb. It is the empty tomb that brings us to raise the question about where they put Jesus’ lifeless body. It is the empty tomb that sends us searching for what we thought was lifeless. It is the empty tomb that brings us to belief: Jesus is alive, he is risen. Only as the risen Lord comes to us does our own belief in the meaning of the empty tomb continually grow. Easter faith is never still. Jesus’ risen presence can be found where we least expect it – in the gentle smile, in the unexpected extension of a helping hand, in the goodness and generosity of oyr family and neighbors and friends. And even perfect strangers. Easter teaches us that we must give ourselves over for others in total love. This is the paschal mystery. Easter faith is never still. The risen Lord is always active. In our Easter faith. In our acts of love.
Jerusalem, Behold Your King Comes For most of us, Holy Week unfolds like many other weeks: work, school, preparing meals, doing laundry. Palm Sunday begins an unusual week – a week – concentrated in a few days on the ultimate meaning of our lives. We are invited this week to reflect on these questions: Why are we here? What have we been called to do? What are we willing to die for? We have journeyed from Ash Wednesday to this day. This week, we will experience the last hours of the life of Jesus. We must slow down and make choices so that this week does not go by without our taking time to enter into its meaning. In our Gospel today, even in the midst of great suffering, Jesus extends his compassion to others, so total, that he willingly empties himself to the point of death. As we enter this week, let us pray that our self-emptying for the good of others will be so total. We celebrate in the liturgies of this week what we live every day – all the dying to self that characterizes our faithful discipleship. The triumph of this week is in doing our tasks with joy, being kind to those around us [even those cranky folks], meeting setbacks as paths to learning. Then, with Jesus, we can commend ourselves into God’s hands. Jerusalem, My Destiny by Gary Daigle, Rory Cooney & Theresa Donohoo
Rise Up I didn’t want to come back. My consciousness hovered somewhere above the body lying on the gurney. It was all over, I thought. The last sensation I remembered had been incomprehensible, then a tunnel, and a grinding noise as described in other “near death experiences.” But unlike other people who tell of “NDEs,” I saw no lights, no angels, no dead relatives, no friendly saints; rather, I found myself very much awake in a weightless, imageless, gray hyper reality. I experienced clarity, freedom and relief, and a stunning sense of the illusory nature of the life I’d left behind. Then in the emergency room a nurse enforced an alternative plan for my life. Someone was shaking my body and calling me by name. No! NO! Unprepared and inept, I slipped, as if falling on ice, into that lesser “reality” in a helpless panic of anguish and anger. Suddenly I was back in the confines of that little life of mine. I came to consciousness disappointed, frustrated, unspeakably sad — and in pain. Each year we celebrate a time to examine our own “near death experiences” in reflecting on our relationship with Christ. Each year in our Lenten Journey, three questions we face: For what do we thirst? What blinds us? What keeps us from being one with God? The Third Sunday of Lent, we met the Woman at the Well. This great story of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman takes us immediately from the Matthean world into the richly symbolic world of John. Last week, the blind man sees. Why is the man born blind? All easy answers seem reasonable next to the strange and confounding answer of Jesus: that God’s work might be revealed in him. This week, Lazarus lives. Life came to the tomb of Lazarus, as Jesus, “the resurrection and the life,” raised him from the dead. Lazarus became an unwitting part of the Jesus play. He never seemed to seek the attention. Yet, once brought to life, he became the Elvis of his time. People traveled great distances just to get a look at him. The Pharisees plotted to kill him because he was a living symbol of Christ’s power. He was living proof of Christ’s power—even over life and death. This act paved the way for his followers to understand that Christ CHOSE to die and that death could not hold him. I wonder if Jesus did Lazarus a favor by calling him back from the dead? What I do know is that when Christ enters our lives we are no longer our own. We move from self-control and self-direction to His control and His direction. That transformation is nothing less than the power of the Spirit of God calling each and every one of us to health — to wholeness — to realizing our full potential as children of God and to the life abundant which is our inheritance. It is a change that isn’t about making us someone we’re not but making us more authentically who we are.
I Do Believe The belief is still prevalent today that bad things happen to people because they deserved it; that some people’s lives are blighted by troubles but it is because of their sin, because of their wrong doing. People still say, “I must have done something really bad for this to have happened to me.” “Why is God punishing me, am I so bad?” Yet we all know very well that calamities and disasters are no respecter of persons, these things happen to all, to the bad and the good, to the rich and to the poor alike. The sun not only shines on the righteous, but on the unrighteous too. The rain falls on all. Are the many people around the world who die daily from natural disasters any worse a person than any other. Was anyone we know personally, cut down by cancer, a stroke or a heart attack, any worse a person than anybody else? In our Gospel, Jesus is quite adamant about this. “No,” Says Jesus, “His blindness has nothing to do with his sins or his parent’s sins.” And Jesus in effect goes on to say that God uses these bad things to show his glory, “He is blind so that God’s power might be seen at work in him.” And notice Jesus doesn’t try to answer the problem of the suffering of the innocent, for there is no easy answer. Jesus re-creates the blind man into a seeing disciple and believer. We, too, are called to be disciples who re-create others and bring them to stalwart belief in the One who brings the gift of healing salvation. As God’s creation, we are never finished. Jesus works in us to bring completion and fullness of light and life.
Give Me A Drink A thread running through all today’s lessons is the affirmation of God’s loving care to those who respond to him. God’s covenant love continues despite all our human attempts to thwart it, domesticate it, attempt to control it. During our Lenten pilgrimage we reflect on our responsibility for being agents of frustration rather than channels of love. An important symbol of God’s grace, as we shall see from our texts is that of water, with the reminder that water is essential for sustaining human life, and that the real Water of Life is given by Jesus of Nazareth. This well-known incident in the Gospels comprises three scenes. Jesus’ dialogues with a Samaritan woman. Jesus’ dialogues with the disciples. The Samaritan woman encounters Jesus and confesses that He is the saviour of the world. A Samaritan woman came to draw water. Jesus said to her “Give me a drink” A lonely, isolated woman, shunned by her community, comes to draw water at the hottest time of day. A woman with a broken self-image, who has deep feelings of guilt, of worthlessness – who really feels and lives the rejection of her people – comes to draw water when no-else is around. Normally a communal exercise, a time when stories are told, experiences shared, help sought and given, the drawing of water for this woman has become a lonely experience, an expression of her isolation and rejection. She has had five husbands – the absolute maximum permitted in Samaritan law at that time. Thus the man she is living with now, is not and could not be her husband. She has placed herself outside the norm and customs of the community – and so she lives a lonely existence, shunned and scorned by her community. Jesus, tired, perhaps frustrated by the constant bickering of the disciples and their inability to understand, is drained, drawn and dry. Out of his need he asks – Give me a drink. The shock for the woman must have been palpable. A Jew asking a Samaritan for a drink from a member of a people regarded as the enemy. A man asking a strange woman to relieve his thirst. A conversation is struck up. In receiving water from this Samaritan woman, Jesus gives her life – a life of fullness of esteem, of relationship with God. Water gives life… Jesus came to quench our thirst for presence and acceptance. Our thirst is satisfied when we surrender ourselves to the living waters of God’s word and live with Christ at the very center of our being.
Give Us A Sign Today’s readings are all about signs and promises, signs requested, signs given, and signs difficult to discern. A sign misunderstood, this time in the Transfiguration. The disciples are already struggling with the mission of Jesus as he tries to unfold it to them; in the previous chapter Jesus tells them they are right to call him Messiah but wrong in their expectation of what a Messiah will achieve. The disciples are uncomprehending of his description and while only Peter questioned, doesn’t mean the others clearly understood. So how will the transfiguration affect them? Are the words spoken, act as God’s seal on all that Jesus has said? Or will God’s words merely approve what they believe to be their interpretation of what Jesus is all about? Might they be inclined to think that If God loves Jesus so much he will certainly make him victorious? There must have been a temptation to believe that God was on their side and to discount the picture that Jesus has been painting of the suffering servant. After the resurrection, the story can take on a different perspective and taken in its proper perspective by the reality of Jesus life death and resurrection. They understand that God does indeed love and approve of everything that Jesus is and has done, and they can see the pattern their own mission must take and that it must follow the hard path to life, not the easy path to success. The issue with living the paschal mystery is always to take theory and put it into practice! Peter responded practically. Christian living is about being touched by Jesus so that the fleeting moments of glory are made permanent in bettering the lives of others. We don’t build tents, we feed the hungry, clothed the naked, touch the downhearted, encourage the discouraged. In this way Christ touches others through us. This is the sign!
Lead Us Not Into Temptation At the beginning of Lent there is the unique opportunity to enter a short season where we might be able to responding in a new way to the world. Many psychologists suggest 6 weeks is the ideal length of time to break a habit and pick up a new one. It is as if God invented Lent specifically to give ourselves the perfect chance of renewal and transformation. Jesus spends forty days and nights in the desert fasting and praying. At the end of his experience he would have been hungry, would have sought companionship, would have been wanting a shower and a haircut! After forty days alone, he was vulnerable, ripe for temptation. so the devil was smart; he knew how to hit Jesus where he was most vulnerable; he tried to allure him with tantalizing temptations. Temptations come when we are most vulnerable. It is an enticement to put our own desires and needs first, to give into our impulses without considering too seriously the consequences. Resisting temptation is resisting self-centeredness! Like Jesus, we must choose to surrender ourselves to God who alone should be the center of our lives. The dust that shapes the journey, the cross that guides it, the color that surrounds it, the light that fades through it, the word that foretells it, The wilderness that invites it. This is Lent, and into it’s wilderness God calls us.
Do Not Worry About Tomorrow Worrywart? Fussbudget? Incessantly they talk about what might happen, whether they made the right decision, what to have for supper, how much to exercise! Incessant worriers place themselves at the center of their universe. Everything tends to be about them in one way or another. They serve only themselves in their small world. No wonder people find them unpleasant! This Sunday’s gospel mentions worry four times and anxiety once! And Jesus is clear: Do Not worry! Telling us not to worry is like telling us not to be the center of our own lives. And that is exactly the point! If we choose ourselves, put ourselves first, we worry. If we choose God, the center of our lives shifts from ourselves to God then to others. Worrying draws us into ourselves, caring for others draws us out of ourselves. If we choose God, we will feed on God’s generosity, be clothed in God’s gift of Life and be made rich in faith. This choice is sufficient not only for a day, but for a whole lifetime, even for eternity. We need to hear Jesus’ admonition “do not worry” and choose not ourselves, but God. Choosing God as the center of our life increases our Life. Most of us don’t consciously choose ourselves as our master; we are subtle about it. The measure is our worrying. Obsessive worrying about things, future plans, success, security is a clue we have chosen ourselves as master. It is a clue we need to chose the most compassionate, most generous, Master: God. Jesus assures us that trust in God and reliance on God’s care are fruits of choosing God as master. The choice is ours.
Behold One Saturday while driving on a busy city highway, a friend and I saw an unusual bird. It was some sort of falcon, with sharp, black eyes and that unmistakable meat-eating beak. Caught at a stop light, like good bird watchers, we started calling out what we saw. “Cheek spots! Speckled breast! Brown sides!” Then the light changed. It was at least an hour before we finished our errands and got back home where we could look in the bird book. By then, our memories of what we had seen differed from each other just enough that we couldn’t agree. I thought I had seen the white-spotted breast and rich brown sides of a kestrel, but a kestrel has a blue back, and my friend absolutely insisted there was no blue. The back was all brown, which would make the bird a merlin, another little falcon. Unfortunately, female kestrels and merlins both have brown backs. Both species can be found in the area in winter, and both thrive in either the countryside or the city. In other words, the possibilities were open. Whatever it was, it was marvelous! So alive, perched right next to the highway on top of a street sign, diving onto a little grassy island, scarfing up birds or mice. As far as I was concerned, seeing that falcon was like looking up to see a Bengal tiger sitting on the traffic island. Then there was the time I was on the way to church early on a Friday and saw an owl. I’m fairly sure it was an owl, because its body was thick and heavy. It flew in front of me, up high across the road, the sun reflecting on its golden body in the early light. The owl was high in one of the trees. It was a big owl and very much awake. It flew off so quickly I couldn’t see any clear identifying marks, but several big species are active in the daytime. As you may have guessed by now-if you are a bird watcher, just seeing a bird isn’t enough. You have to tell somebody about it. And that’s especially true if all you get is a glimpse. That’s why seeing a rarity is something we talk about it every now and then. If you aren’t a bird watcher, there is bound to be something else you just have to tell someone about. How many times have you heard a group of people who have all seen the same play in the same ball game tell each other exactly what they saw? They might do it immediately right in the stands or during the commercial or the next day at work. It’s not just sharing information or confirming that the other person saw what you saw. That’s not why people re-tell plays in a great game or describe a wonderful sight. Telling is experiencing. Telling is having the experience again and giving it to someone else. Telling is shining a light that shows a particular way and then walking along that way together. That’s why death is always a time for story telling, for sitting down together as a family and remembering the night when Dad stopped the train in a New Jersey town where the train hadn’t stopped in 35 years. He showed someone his Naval Academy ring and used his charm, which had been his greatest asset all his life, and the train stopped in that town that night for the first time in memory because Dad wanted to get off there. When you tell a story like that one in your den or living room, you can look at the faces of the children there, hearing about a relative they’ve never met, and you can tell what they are wondering. They are wondering if they are going to turn out-now that they know it’s possible to turn out-to be the kind of person who can stop a train with a smile. All our readings today are about the calling to be tellers, to go and tell others your story of who God is. In the Isaiah text, the servant of God says he or she was called from before birth to be a servant in whom God would be glorified, to be a light, not just to Israel alone, but to the whole world. “I will give you as a light to the nations,” says God to the servant, “that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” The salvation is not for the one who knows the story. It’s for those who are going to hear it wherever they may be. The Psalm for today says, “Tell the glad news of deliverance, speak of God’s steadfast love.” And Paul talks of his apostolic calling and “the calling of the Corinthians to give testimony to Christ, to tell of him.” The Gospel reading is a whole sequence of people telling each other they have seen Jesus and who they think Jesus is. It begins with John telling about Jesus’ baptism. As the story opens, John is talking about himself. The details are very precise. Twice he says, “I did not know him.” As soon as he recognizes Jesus, John goes from “I did not know him” to making public announcements that “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Here is the one I was sent to proclaim: “the Son of God.” Then almost the very same thing happens again. The day after the baptism, John tells two of his disciples that Jesus is “the Lamb of God,” and what did they do? They run off after Jesus. They want to see for themselves. They catch up and have an odd conversation with Jesus, and then Andrew runs off and finds his brother Peter and brings him to meet Jesus too. When Jesus meets Peter, Jesus gives him a new name, “Rock.” Peter will do so much telling that he’ll be a foundation on which the church will be built. To read this story is to get caught up in the cycle of listening, telling, and re-telling that is the story of discipleship. The question is “Where is the falcon or the tiger?” Where is the touchdown play? Why are stories of meeting this man Jesus told again and again? There are at least two answers. One is the answer in Isaiah. God wants the story of salvation told and calls people to tell it, calls them before they are born. That is the prophet Isaiah’s own story and Jeremiah’s too. For the other answer we have to go back to the middle of what we heard today in John, to the point where two men, who have no names yet, are running after a man on the street, pointed out by someone else. “What are you looking for?” Jesus asks the two disciples. Now, “What are you looking for?” is a fairly strange question when you think about it. The logical question would be, “What do you want?” Maybe this isn’t a story about what people want. The word for staying and for remaining in Greek is the same word-meno-and it’s used in this story five times in very quick succession. Twice John says the Spirit came to Jesus and remained. The two disciples asked, “Where are you staying?” They go and see “where he was staying and they stayed with him that day.” Remain. Remain. Stay. Stay. Stay. Could this story be telling us something the disciples don’t know yet themselves? What people are looking for is not information, answers to questions such as “Who is Jesus?” or “Is this the one?” Or “Am I right about this church business?” Not even the answer to the question of why stories of meeting this man have captured the human heart for generations. What we are all looking for without even knowing it is a place to stay, a place to remain always. Jesus is that place, a person who is himself a home, a place to belong, a whole way of life. Jesus knows that what the disciples really want is a place to belong. Whatever he sees on the faces of these two men panting in front of him after running down the street, whatever he sees, what he says to them is just right and wonderfully inviting: “Come and see.” They do go with him. They end up staying, and his story becomes their way of life.
Baptism of Jesus The word “epiphany” has two meanings. One meaning is to “show forth” or “manifest.” The visit of the wise men to the baby Jesus’ cradle was an epiphany because they saw the star in the east and traveled all that way to give their witness that even foreigners from a distant land recognized God’s royalty. When they knelt down to pay the newborn homage, they demonstrated their faith. But the word “epiphany” has a second meaning. An “epiphany” can also be a sudden realization or significant insight; a “moment of truth,” if you will. According to both Mark and Matthew, when Jesus was baptized in the River Jordan by John, the moment he came up out of the water, Jesus saw the Holy Spirit come down from heaven and alight upon him. Then he heard a voice from heaven, which said, “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew clearly wants to communicate that this was an epiphany also. It was a sudden realization or deep insight, a moment of truth, for Jesus. Maybe Mary and Joseph knew, from the moment that Jesus was conceived, that he was God’s son. Maybe they knew he was the one whom God had sent to save the people of Israel. Maybe this was in the backs of their minds the whole time, and maybe they even brought Jesus up in the knowledge of his purpose and special relationship to God. But as Matthew sees it, it was not until the moment of his baptism that Jesus realized the magnitude of it all. We, who are baptized into Christ, become God’s beloved daughters and sons and God is well pleased with us too. Baptism inaugurates us into Christ’s way of life. The dying and rising is the stuff of our Christian living. What enables us to say yes is that we know the dying always leads to rising: when we die to selfishness and rise to the needs of others; when we die to judgments and labeling others and rise to seeing all people as beloved of God; when we offer kind words instead of tearing down another- then our baptism is ongoing.
Holy Family Seating around the family dinner table is very interesting! 55 years ago we moved into a home my father and his brothers built and we had our places at the table. Although my parents are now gone, we still want to sit next to each other in those same places! “Sitting next to” is an expression of a loving relationship and trust is forged! At first glance, today’s feast may seem a bit confusing. How can this family be a model when they were so obviously graced by God? If we read the Gospel, we see that this family had its share of distress and peril too. Joseph was challenged to hear God’s voice, perceive the danger and act to protect Mary and Jesus. In this is holiness: listening to God’s voice, heeding whatever God asks and acting faithfully for the good and well-being of others. What are some of the signals God sends us to which we must respond? The signals are there and like Joseph, we must be alert and responsive.
Let us Go In Haste Several years ago, I was leading the Children’s Liturgy of the Word on this feast of Christmas. As we were reflecting on this feast, one of the children asked me, “Sister, were the shepherds any different after they visited Jesus?” For years, that question has stayed with me. It didn’t take much for the shepherds to abandon their sheep and follow up on a strange message of angels! They saw the infant for themselves and then “they returned glorifying and praising God.” To whom or to what did they return? And were they changed because of their encounter with Christ? Did they return to their sheep? To their former way of a shepherding life? Maybe to some shepherds who didn’t go with them? In trying to answer that child’s question, I said they returned with a difference. Their encounter with this infant stirred in their hearts and changed their lives forever. We,too, are changed by our encounters with this Savior born to us. We are changed when we recognize and respond to this divine encounter. We encounter the Savior in the sick and suffering to whom we extend a healing hand, in the child who needs moral guidance, in a parent who needs an encouraging word, in a lonesome youth who needs a friend. And their presence changes our lives. Emmanuel not only came at a specific moment in history; Emmanuel is among us at all time. Even more, we are to make Emmanuel present. Image: Nativity by He Qi
Are You The One? During this season of Advent, we find ourselves claiming to wait for God to show up…for the incarnation to take place…for the Kingdom to appear…to take shape. But we wonder, are we really ready for and receptive to whatever actually shows up? Can we let go of our vision of the ideal to receive the reality of Emmanuel? In today’s gospel according to Matthew, John has sent word to inquire whether this Jesus is really “the one.” Now we don’t know what John was expecting…but he had to ask clarifying questions. Jesus alludes to the visions of the prophet Isaiah…the blind will receive sight, the lame will walk, the deaf will hear. As they depart, Jesus turns to the gathered crowds and asks them to consider what they expected in the arrival and proclamation of John the Baptist. Did they expect the voice crying out to be clothed in soft robes? Did they expect preparation to be a light task? How willing were they to listen to this messenger and respond in faith? Is their faith colored by their preconceived notions? Gospel living means that we are charged to take up Jesus’ ministry: helping someone see the goodness in themselves; reaching out to those who feel alienated; encouraging others to hear beneath words communicated-and we help others discover the Christ who dwells in our midst. In Advent, we light one candle after another, watching and waiting. Advent invites us to do the hard work of looking for the Christ, seeing his Presence in his works, becoming that Presence in all we do.
Jump Into The Fire The prayers of the day during Advent open with the rather provocative phrase “Stir up…” I have been thinking a lot about those two words and what they mean for this season, for the beginning of a new church year, and for our walk as disciples. Be it a stirring up of hearts, wills, ways, waters, minds, power, or whatever, this petition is not for the shy and faint of heart. To “stir up” is to change things, to move, to mix, to incite, to kindle, or to ignite. The question then, it seems to me, is do we really mean what we pray? Do we want the change for which we so fervently pray? Are we truly ready to be Advent people? Change involves discomfort; sometimes it even involves real pain. Our gospel today recounts the story of John the Baptist and his call to repent and be engaged in the work of God’s reign. God has done and continues to do a new thing in Jesus, bringing the kindom of heaven into our everyday lives and inviting us to be an active part of this new way of living and being here on earth. In Advent we have a foretaste of this reality as we watch, wait, and look for signs of God’s presence and action. Yet just as change is difficult for human beings, so is recognizing the signs of God’s activity in the world. We are such busy people. We rush here and there, to and fro, from sunrise to sunset, even the youngest among us are constantly on the go. In our bustle and doing, it is easy to miss the presence of God that is here, there, and everywhere. When was the last time you spent an entire day simply “being,” attuned to the moment, living fully in the present, aware of God’s work and will in your life and in your relationships? For a few disciples this may be regular practice, for many it is often desired but only occasionally realized, and unfortunately for most folks it is not even a random blip on life’s radar screen. Perhaps Advent should come with a warning label so that before we pray, we fully understand what we are asking God to do. Don’t quench the Advent fire; fan the flames. Or, as St. Catherine of Siena said, “If you are what you should be, then you will set the world on fire.”
Second Sunday of Advent O Come, O Come Emmanuel is one of the most beloved songs of the Advent season. Originally a monastic chant, the verses are taken from Isaiah, describing the qualities of the Messiah to come. We know them now as the “O Antiphons” and sing them particularly in the final week of Advent. As we hear John the Baptist in this week’s scriptures challenge us to “Prepare the Way of the Lord; make straight his paths,” we are grateful to Betsey Beckman and Tom Booth for sharing their creativity as we pray: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”
Be Watchful It is a dark season. The sun disappears late in the afternoon and even throughout the day, the quality of light is thin and cold. And we have not yet come to the shortest days. In our shared life of faith, it is a season of waiting. We are moving toward a keystone in the Christian year, but first, the waiting is important. And the gathering darkness reminds us of the work to be done. The season begins with just one candle, one small light in the darkness and with a vision of gathering light that lies ahead. The passage from Matthew is troublesome. The idea of a thief in the night taking one and not another is hard for us to grasp. But remember that it is a dark season. And this is a warning to be watchful. This Gospel does not call us to change the kinds of ordinary things we do every day. It does call us to be watchful so that we orient our daily activities to God’s ways. It is in the ordinary that the extraordinary is going to happen. It is our daily activities that the Son of Man is present. We need only to stay awake,to be watchful. Advent is about our coming to God.
Feast of Christ the King Today – this last Sunday of the Church Year – is the Sunday that is called “Christ the King Sunday” or “The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe”. For most of us the image of Christ as King is perhaps troublesome. We live in a democracy after all – and though our democracy may be a constitutional monarchy – our minds can’t quite wrap themselves around the whole concept of kingship, even when it is applied to Christ Jesus. It may help us to appreciate what Christ the King Sunday is all about if we know a bit about how it came to be.The title for this Sunday was created fairly recently – in 1925 in fact – by Pope Pius XI. Why did Pope Pius XI create this Sunday and suggest the readings that we have? Quite simply because the church needed the image of Christ the King at that moment in time. On its first celebration, Mussolini had been the leader of Italy for three years; and a rabble-rouser named Hitler had been out of jail for a year. Hitler’s Nazi party was growing in popularity, and the world lay in a great Depression: a depression that would become far worse over the next fifteen years. In such a time, Pius XI asserted that, nevertheless, with all of those new dictators and false values in the world, Christ is King of the universe. The feast of Christ the King, then, was and is basically a language thing, a symbol, a metaphor,designed to be a statement of life’s fundamental question for broken times such as ours. The question – who exercises dominion over whom? And the question: Who or what rules our lives and how? If we pick up on that theme, then the feast of Christ the King can makes sense for us today. Who rules our lives? Who dominates culture? Today we assert the gospel message – the message that Christ is in charge. What makes Christ our King? He gave himself for the sake of others. Here is what it means for us to live under his reign:to give our lives for others. When we forgive those who have hurt us, reach out to those who are trying to change and grow, expand our hearts to welcome those who are marginalized. This is the way Jesus has shown us; this is what Jesus has saved us for; this is the way we embrace the kingdom of God.
Conflicts? Opportunities? Recently I had to work with a utility company on behalf of a woman whom our church was assisting financially. The woman was getting nowhere with the company, so I tried to help her with the process. It took eight calls to them before I could speak with a supervisor who would hear my concerns and rectify the billing problems the customer had. In the first five calls, five different customer service representatives each told me different information about how the woman’s situation. One told me everything was paid up. Another told me that the customer had a $500 balance. Another told me they’d ask the back office to research the issue, and I could call back in 2-3 days for an answer. I did, and I was told that that timeline was wrong; it would take 5-7 days for the research to be completed. After that time had passed, I called back. That representative told me the timeline was wrong; it would take 4-6 weeks. By the time I got to the supervisor, who was very kind and understanding, I suggested to her that some training was needed to improve consistency among the representatives. She sighed and explained that in the last year, not only had they fired the original company to whom they outsourced the customer service calls and then hired a new company, the utility company had also begun to use a new computer system. Balances paid during certain months were not credited to customers’ accounts, past due and termination notices were sent out incorrectly, and the new employees didn’t have much training to handle any of it. I felt so sorry for her and said so. She said brightly, “I’ve just learned that there are never problems; there are only opportunities. And every morning I come to work, I am faced with all sorts of opportunities.” Jesus tells us in Luke 21 that if we are faithful to the way of life he’s set before us, there will be some serious ramifications. The part where we are hauled off to the civil authorities isn’t anything new to EP endorsers and like-minded Christians. We are aware that some of the ways Christ calls us to live will come into direct conflict with the state. If you have any questions about that, read Acts. But the part where he talks about faithful Christ-followers being “handed over to the synagogues” gives us pause. If we follow Jesus, the people of God—the church—might get upset? Yeah. – This upset can cause arguing, division, and all sort of congregational chaos. These battles can be exhausting. And depressing. But when Christians are called on the carpet for extending grace or assistance to sinful people, Luke’s Jesus tells us to see this kind of confrontation as an “opportunity”—an opportunity to testify. We are instead instructed to keep our eyes open for the opportunity to speak, and when the time comes, let God give us the words. Perhaps if God gives us the words and the wisdom, when we are challenged because of the ministries in which we engage, we’ll talk about God and not ourselves.
God Of The Living Today’s gospel is set in Jerusalem, just a few days before the Passover. It’s just a few days before the arrest and trial. Jesus’ time is drawing to an end. The time with him is very short and very precious. Some Sadducees come to see him. By this time, everyone in Judah knows who Jesus is: miracle worker, famous healer, wise man, the one who raised the girl from the dead, the one who threw out the money changers, the one who came into the city with the people shouting and waving. Some say he’s the next Moses, some say Elijah, some say he’s the Messiah. So here are these Sadducees, learned men who are members of the branch of Judaism that does not believe in a resurrection after death. These Sadducees finally get to encounter Jesus. This is their moment–this is their time in the sun. Yet, this is what they say: Teacher, if seven brothers die in succession and each marries the same woman, one after another, to whom is she married in heaven? There is a Jewish saying that says, “Rake the muck this way; rake the muck that way. It’s still muck. Meanwhile we could be stringing pearls for heaven.” How often do we waste our time raking the muck instead of stringing pearls for heaven? How often do we waste our time playing word games like gambling online at Araucana or play poker online www.casinodames.com games instead of seeing the Christ right in front of us? There’s a character in one of Saul Bellow’s novels who says, “I had boasted…how had I loved reality. But…unreality. Unreality, unreality! That has been my scheme for a troubled…life.” Well, let us ask ourselves if that is our scheme as well? Do we avoid the reality of questions that matter? Karl Barth, the great 20th Century theologian, once said: “The Bible gives to every [person] and to every era answers to their questions as they deserve. We shall always find in it as much as we seek and no more.” Do we use our questions to keep Jesus at arms’ length? Do we only seek to play Trivial Pursuit? Are we afraid of encountering the living Christ because we really don’t want him in our lives? It’s clear in the gospels that Jesus has no time for those who merely want to play games. He has no patience with those who merely want to trick him or to use him to prove how smart or righteous or perfect they are. Usually those who waste his time don’t come off very well–indeed, after this exchange, Luke writes, “They no longer dared to ask him another question.” However, Jesus always has time for questions that are real. He always has time for those who are stringing pearls for heaven. Because the questions deep in our hearts are what lead us to be in relation to him. Jesus always has time for questions like this: • Can you heal my child? • I have a demon that torments me and I can find no rest. Can you help me? • I have lost my way to the circle of life. Can you bring me back? • No one will come near me–because they say I am unclean. Do you love someone like me? When people offer these questions to Jesus, the answer he gives is not a slogan or a sound bite. The answer he gives is himself. When the Sadducees or the Pharisees ask Jesus their trick questions, they usually get parables: stories that will puzzle their minds and invite them to look at the world in a new way. But when women and men bring Jesus their deepest yearnings, he doesn’t talk to them; he engages them. When genuine people come to him with genuine questions, he often doesn’t say anything, but he touches, he encounters, he relates. He invites people to journey with him on the Way. The Latin root of the word “question” means “to seek.” It’s where we get the word “quest.” To ask a real question is to enter on a journey; it’s to begin traveling on The Way. Jesus gets exasperated with the Sadducees simply because they aren’t willing to leave the station. They just want to play games and stay right where they are. They aren’t right or wrong; they are just wasting their life. They are just raking the muck. Remember Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet? An aspiring poet from America wrote the famous poet Rilke in Germany with questions about his art. In one of his replies, Rilke writes, “Love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language….Live the questions now. Perhaps then someday far in the future, you will gradually…live your way into the answer.” Our deepest questions don’t have simple answers. Instead they are doors to walk through. Jesus says, “I am the Way” because with him and through him we live our way into answers. So let us take heart. Today is the day Jesus has come to the city; today is the day Jesus has come to our city. The time is short, but it is our time. Time to bring our deepest questions to Him–the questions for which we want a new answer, like: • Does God love me? • Are we alone? • Can people find Shalom? The Sadducees cannot ask these questions because they think they already know the answers. Real questions are doorways to the journey to newness. We ask Jesus these questions because he is who he is. Jesus is the door to newness; he is the Way to new life. He invites us to think of a new world: a world where the old rules do not apply. He invites the Sadducees to lay aside their stupid questions and think of a new world in which the living and the dead are connected. So now is the time. Do not think about what we can do but about what God can do. Remember what he said? Ask and you will receive. How can we receive if we never ask?