Third Sunday in Advent

"Thy Kingdom Come", but we're not done!


Fire and water: two compelling, dynamic images linked to communion with God and the salvation of Christ.  In today's gospel, John the Baptist famously denies he is Messiah, but rather preaches repentance and conversion to high ethical standards as preparation for Messiah.  The two pericopes in Luke fit well into the theme of Advent, as we focus on preparing for God to touch humanity in a new way.

John exhortation to ethical integrity is in response to a disciple asking "Teacher, what should we do?"  It seems the fitting question to John's earlier (outside today's reading) proclamation that "Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."  When faced with such destructive wrath, the disciples needed to know what to do, because they needed to get started.

What is interesting is John's focus on doing before becoming; he is the quintessential existentialist---existence before essence.  You want justice? Become just.  You want peace? Become peaceful.  You want salvation from the wrath of God? Welcome God into your midst.

The great line from Matthew 25:41-45 resonates with these leading questions:

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. ⁴² For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
⁴⁴ “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’
⁴⁵ “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

 Preparation is awareness of Christ in our midst for the post-Easter church.  Some have envisioned the second coming of Christ as dependent on the "right time" that we have control over.  When the world has sufficiently become The Kingdom, Christ will come again.  A nice sentiment, but such a Kingdom isn't possible without Christ's presence now.  Christ comes, Christ is bid, where there is a need for restorative justice and a faithful disciple answers the call by offering her or himself to the cause of helping ex-felons return to society.  Christ is bid in the heart of an older, retired woman who runs a simple soup kitchen that feeds the local homeless.  Christ shows up, Messiah comes, the Reign of God has begun in the presence of the graced relationship between ex-felon and justice worker, and between the retiree and those who are hungry for food and human companionship.  We aren't preparing for Christ to return in loving the poor and the marginalized, we are welcoming Christ in the poor and the marginalized; when they show up, Christ has come.  The Kingdom is here.
  

The Solemnity of Christ the King

"My kingdom does not belong to this world"  --Jesus, The Gospel of John

There is that famous line from the Mel Brooks's movie History of the World: Part I,"It's good to be king!"  Being king brings up beautiful imagery of elaborate court ritual, absolute authority and feasting; sounds a lot like the institutional church!   But Jesus' words to Pilate betray this image of opulence.  When asked about his kingdom, Jesus replies, "My kingdom does not belong to this world" (New American Bible).  Another translation has it as "My kingdom is not of this world"(New International Version).  The sense of Jesus' reply is that his kingdom is neither the kingdom of Rome nor the kingdom envisioned by the religious authorities; both groups lose.

The Solemnity of Christ the King that embraces Jesus as king is relatively new.  It was established in 1925 to counter what the Church saw as an increasing tendency to worship human wisdom and power, which was loosely defined as modernism.  By later positioning the solemnity at the end of the Church's liturgical year in 1969, it further enhanced its standing as the summit of Christ's rule, and, implicitly, the Church as Christ's kingdom.

The songs and imagery associated with this celebration, however, often blunt the irony of Christ as king.  The usual image is of a resurrected, non-bloody, Jesus hovering (rather than being nailed) on the cross.  The image of Christ as king is ironic because he is the king with a crown of thorns with a procession of humiliation and a knightly court of cowards.  It seems, as St. Paul writes in his letter to the Corinthians  "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."

The ironic image of Jesus as king nailed to the cross speaks of a different kind of power than the power of earthly kingdoms.  In a general audience at the Vatican, Pope Benedict XVI suggests ". . .the Cross reveals ‘the power of God’ which is different from human power; it reveals, in fact, His love.” 

The power of God's kingdom as embodied by Jesus' death isn't exclusively revealed by the resurrection, although the saving power of God is most apparent here. It is the magnitude of God's love for His creation in self-sacrifice that shows Christ's true power as king.  

The ultimate love is the love that sacrifices self for another. This is the true power that defines Christ's kingdom.  This is why evil can never ultimately triumph over good; evil avoids self-sacrifice.  Evil always seeks what is best for the self over and against the other.  It destroys community and ultimately destroys itself.

Self-sacrificing love, on the other hand,  is the ultimate Christian act where one falls into the opened arms of Christ on the cross, trusting in the power of God's ability to bring life from death.  Christ's kingdom, indeed, is not of this world, but it is for this world.  Nothing is of more importance than conforming ourselves to this likeness of Christ as King.

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

From Barrenness to Blessedness: Giving from One's Poverty

Today's gospel is a couple of stories sewn together by Mark.  The first story is about the victimizing of the poor by the religious authorities of Jesus' time, the scribes.  The poor were represented by the widows who had no social standing and were even less reputable if not associated with a man (husband, older brother, or father).  They were truly "the least and the last".  The focus of this story is the ostentatious behavior of the religious elite whose worship was more show than substance in their grand robes and places of honor at worship (as a priest, this part of the gospel always gets a little uncomfortable).  As is written: "They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation".

Juxtaposed with this narrative is the account of the widow who gives what little she has, but is accorded greater praise than those who give much more but give from their abundance. The widow's gift is truly a sacrifice; the gift of the rich is simply for show.  These two elements of the narratives complement one another: sacrifice versus show.

Unfortunately, the deeper meaning of this gospel is often lost in how it is used to elicit more money from congregations--"Give till it hurts, like the widow."  But what Jesus is getting at is more profound than being generous with one's money. 

As our lives are gifts, it is incredible to realize that our blessedness lies not only in our talents and riches but also in our sheer incompetence.  I'm not suggesting that our gifts are worthless, but too often our gifts are where we find gratification for our egos.  We can easily lose our gratitude by hiding our incompetence and displaying our gifts, so that communities take on a competitive nature for a type of ego-gratifying perfection, whereas Gospel perfection comes in our vulnerability to one another---our willingness to share our weaknesses as well as our strengths.  God's great love of humanity resulted in his self-sacrifice in Christ.  Love compelled this.  We, too, when we are living from our love for one another don't hide behind our strengths and make a show of our competencies, but allow others to see our in-competencies as well; giftedness embraces both our strengths and weaknesses.  Paul's famously paradoxical statement now is a bit less paradoxical: "That's why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2Cor. 12:10).

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Unworthiness is not Worthlessness: "Go your way; your faith has saved you."

Faith is a gift, freely given, immeasurably valuable, but rarely embraced.  Why?  Consider Bartimaeus in today’s gospel.  He is blind and wants to see.  In his blindness, he yells out in his darkness at the passing healer, Jesus, whom he knows will save him.  The folks around him probably wondered what he had done to displease God such that he was blind; and what does Bartimaeus do?  He makes a scene—a very annoying distraction for those trying to get a glimpse of Jesus.  Bartimaeus seems also to attribute his blindness with sinfulness because he doesn’t yell out “Make me better!  Over here, Jesus.  I’m blind.  Make me better”.  Bartimaeus gets Jesus’ attention by yelling "Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me."  He yells this out twice.  By addressing Jesus as son of David, he implicitly acknowledges Jesus as successor to David and Messiah. Jesus’ reply is intriguing: “"Go your way; your faith has saved you."  Jesus didn’t say “I have healed you”, but rather focuses on the power of Bartimaeus’ faith. There is no recording of Bartimaeus even having been touched by Jesus.  Jesus simply declares him healed by Bartimaeus' faith and to “Go your way….”

Bartimaeus’ healing is a wonderful instruction in faith, healing and mission.  In leading with the phrase “Have mercy on me”, he understands healing begins establishing the correct relationship between himself and Jesus.  He, perhaps more than anyone else in the crowd, knows he is the least entitled; but his faith in the nature of Jesus’ compassion gives him the courage to call out. If our sense of unworthiness doesn’t compel us to call out, our real need isn’t healing, but faith. Realizing our unworthiness isn’t the same as worthlessness.  God’s love gives us our worth; we cannot generate it ourselves.  William Sloane Coffin, a famous preacher, wrote of this dynamic eloquently:

“Of God’s love we can say two things: it is poured out universally for everyone from the Pope to the loneliest wino on the planet; and secondly, God’s love doesn’t seek value, it creates value.  It is not because we have value that we are loved, but because we are loved that we have value.  Our value is a gift, not an achievement.” 

Bartimaeus understood the source of his worth by faith, and this is what gave him the courage to call out for healing from Jesus.  Approaching God in a humility that is based upon establishing this right-relationship is essential.  Too often a sense of worthlessness keeps our prayers silent or redirected towards a favorite saint.  We might be unworthy, but we are far from worthless.  God’s love establishes our worth for all time, independent of our actions.  Recognizing God’s love can allow us to cry out to God “Have mercy on me, a sinner….unworthy, but not worthless, because you love me, God!”  Faith, then, at its essence is letting God know you’ve received the gift and want to claim it despite all the negative voices telling you to “be silent.”

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The last few weeks we have been dealing with the desire of the disciples to be regarded as great, to be first, and now to be seated in a privileged position next to Jesus.  This taking place in the context of Jesus committing to his journey to Jerusalem where he knows his death at the hands of the Romans and Temple authorities is immanent.  Still, his closest followers don’t seem to get it.  Again, Jesus admonishes his disciples to embrace humility, and in doing so, embrace the way of the Cross, so that they might truly be great in the Kingdom. 

He asks the question: “Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?"  The enthusiastically answer “yes!”  Then Jesus alludes to the true communion as being a way rather than a single act of devotion of statement of faith.  Jesus follows up their enthusiasm not with a pledge, but with a declaration that indeed they will walk the way of the Cross:

"The cup that I drink, you will drink,
and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized”

Can we “drink the cup” and “be baptized with the baptism” that is Jesus’ way?  He then goes on to give them the means of this communion and initiation: 

“…whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant;
whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.
For the Son of Man did not come to be served
but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."

We pick up again on the link between being a servant (Jesus uses the more powerful image of being a slave) as key to the way of the Cross.  The servant/slave is giving one’s life, of living one’s life, for everyone.  A slave has no claim to regard, wealth or power; slaves do only one thing: serve.  Of all the images Jesus develops in the gospels—healers, disciples(students), exorcists, brothers and sisters—none is more potent than the challenge to give up the claims of a free man to become a slave to all; but, it is precisely in this renouncing of one’s freedom that Jesus knows true freedom exists.  What we cling to other than Christ and the Kingdom leads us to the imprisonment of ego,  pride and greater distance between oneself and God.

Until we become like children, servants, we cannot receive the grace that frees us because our hands are full of those things that truly enslave us rather than free us.  St. Paul writes in his letter to the Galatians:

"For you were called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself'" (Gal 5:13-14).

This is where we decide, and upon which we decide, whether or not to be true disciples of Christ. Whom do you serve?

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

All things are possible for God

I grew up with this Bible story of the Rich Young Man's entreaty for eternal life. Sadly, the Young Man, cannot part with his possessions.  Jesus then uses this as a teaching moment, not to excoriate the rich, per se, but to show how powerful we cling to that which impedes us from entering the Kingdom.

There is a popular story that attempts to deflate the hyperbole of a camel struggling to go through the eye of a needle. Without any historical evidence, some claim that there was a lesser gate in the wall surrounding Jerusalem that was opened at night, and to be able to move a camel through it, the camel had to crouch and kneel; it becomes inconvenient, but far from impossible. The rich feel better.

Both the Jerome Biblical Commentary (Catholic commentary) and the Interpreter's Bible (Protestant) dismiss this "urban legend". What is telling isn't that this myth of the "eye of a needle" has had so much traction. This parable, however, isn't a story about the rich, but a story about the nature of faith.

The power of the hyperbole is essential for this parable. It is more comfortable to believe that God rewards Christians who "do their duty", who obey the ordinances of the institution; however, Jesus is asking us to live this impossibility of dispossession---to get rid of anything that stands in the way of living the gospel.

Sometimes this can be rather a spectacular grace, but more often than not, it is "whispering grace",  grace that comes through a "chance encounter"with a stranger, or a growing sense of being loved by others who have experienced God's grace.  We then enter the Kingdom; we breach the impossibly narrow gates we've constructed to keep God's riches out.

Later in this gospel passage, Jesus declares to his disciples: "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God".  The nature of the Kingdom isn't an earthly institution we can control, or through our wits gain an advantage.  The Kingdom is ubiquitous.  It is all around us; we are swimming in it.  The Kingdom is revealed when we open our eyes to the grace of our poverty in Christ.  There is no greater act of downsizing than committing oneself to seriously following the way of Christ rather than the commands of the Church.  

The wealth we need to jettison is the wealth of the false faith that is the security of conforming ourselves to the will of the Church rather than the will of God.  When the institution doesn't reveal the Good News, we must live the Good News, not by fighting the church, but by modeling to the church what the Good News looks like.  We must live for the sake of Christ and the gospel, not the institutional grace of following rules. 

 

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Anyone who gives you a cup of water to drink because you belong to Christ, amen, I say to you, will not lose his reward."---Jesus  The Gospel of Mark

Thirst Slakers,  Children, and Prophets

The gospel reading in Mark unites two completely different events and renders a fascinating connection.  The first excerpt, or pericope, is Jesus reproving John for preventing a man who is not Jesus' disciple from casting out demons by declaring "...whoever is not against us is for us."  The second pericope is taken from the context of warning his disciples not to scandalize children (the pais), or "little ones."  By linking these two passages together, Mark gives the moral force of punishment for those who lead astray the least and last (those in need of healing) with the "outsider" exorcist.  Remember last week when I told you that the word for child and servant was the same?  Today, we get an explicit linking between the two.

The Old Testament scripture is also about cautioning against limiting God's work to only "approved" sources.  Moses remonstrates Joshua of Nun for complaining that there were two outside of God's chosen seventy elders who were prophesying (Eldad and Medad).  Moses asks, "Are you jealous for my sake?  Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets.  Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!"

These readings suggest quite clearly that the true authority does not reside in human institutions as such, but in what is done in God's name.  Gospel authority is doing the will of God.  Period.

How does one, then, discern who is working in God's name?

Paul helps us with recognizing the "fruits of the Spirit" in " "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."(Gal.5:22-23).  In a sense, when you recognize goodness, there God's Spirit is at work.  The other element besides the work is time.  Are these works true and good over time.  The ruse never lasts; the wolf must eventually shed its sheep's clothing to breathe.

At the conclusion of all the Eucharistic prayers, the priest declares "...from whom all good things come." God is not only the source of all that is good, but God is also perfect goodness in essence.  Much of what is good is apparent, but finding the Resurrection looking at the Cross can be a bit more difficult.  Again, time reveals all.  Given enough time, the Cross becomes the Resurrection.  How long do we wait?  How deep is your faith?