Isaiah 1:10, 16-20
Psalm 50:8-9, 16-17, 21, 23
Matthew 23:1-12
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Interpretation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Interpretation. Show all posts
March 18, 2014 - Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
Isaiah 1:10, 16-20
Psalm 50:8-9, 16-17, 21, 23
Matthew 23:1-12
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
Psalm 50:8-9, 16-17, 21, 23
Matthew 23:1-12
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
February 26, 2013 - Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
Isaiah 1:10, 16-20
Psalm 50:8-9, 16-17, 21, 23
Matthew 23:1-12
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
Psalm 50:8-9, 16-17, 21, 23
Matthew 23:1-12
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
February 1, 2013 - Friday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 10:32-39
Psalm 37:3-6, 23-24, 39-40
Mark 4:26-34
Jesus again uses the image of a seed growing to express to us what our faith is like. When we use similes, we always end up with an image that is insufficient in some way. We say that this is like that, but we know that there are many ways in which this and that are different, but not when Jesus uses similes. When he describes our faith as being like the growing process of plants, we know that he invented the growing process of plants. It would not be going too far to say that when God created the world, he created plants in just such a way that they would serve as a perfect image later on. Thus Jesus is not straining similes to make a point; he is pointing out signs and symbols which he has himself placed throughout the universe. Whenever Jesus point to a part of creation he is saying that he hid the entire Gospel in that creature when he created it.
Therefore, when we consider a beautiful image that Jesus sets before us in Scripture, we know that we will never understand it completely, all the way to the end. There is always something more to learn. A doctor of biology or a horticulturalist will know ways in which the analogy of Jesus extends beyond the average person’s knowledge. However, simply because these parables have more meaning than anyone could find, studying only one of them forever, we cannot give up trying to understand them at all.
To point to one example, which Jesus uses today, that of the seed:
The seed is the Word of God. We are the soil. We must be soft and welcoming to the Word of God so that the seed does not lie on the surface and get stolen away by birds, but we must be equally hard and unwelcoming to the seeds of the Enemy: the weeds of temptation. We must let the Word of God put down roots, breaking through any hard rocks that get in the way. We must welcome the rain of grace that falls down on us so that the seed will grow. One day, the seed will sprout into a great plant and bear fruit. Then, when the holy angels come, harvesting the world, they will collect all the progress we have made in this world, keep only the tiniest part of it, and burn the rest.
Psalm 37:3-6, 23-24, 39-40
Mark 4:26-34
Jesus again uses the image of a seed growing to express to us what our faith is like. When we use similes, we always end up with an image that is insufficient in some way. We say that this is like that, but we know that there are many ways in which this and that are different, but not when Jesus uses similes. When he describes our faith as being like the growing process of plants, we know that he invented the growing process of plants. It would not be going too far to say that when God created the world, he created plants in just such a way that they would serve as a perfect image later on. Thus Jesus is not straining similes to make a point; he is pointing out signs and symbols which he has himself placed throughout the universe. Whenever Jesus point to a part of creation he is saying that he hid the entire Gospel in that creature when he created it.
Therefore, when we consider a beautiful image that Jesus sets before us in Scripture, we know that we will never understand it completely, all the way to the end. There is always something more to learn. A doctor of biology or a horticulturalist will know ways in which the analogy of Jesus extends beyond the average person’s knowledge. However, simply because these parables have more meaning than anyone could find, studying only one of them forever, we cannot give up trying to understand them at all.
To point to one example, which Jesus uses today, that of the seed:
The seed is the Word of God. We are the soil. We must be soft and welcoming to the Word of God so that the seed does not lie on the surface and get stolen away by birds, but we must be equally hard and unwelcoming to the seeds of the Enemy: the weeds of temptation. We must let the Word of God put down roots, breaking through any hard rocks that get in the way. We must welcome the rain of grace that falls down on us so that the seed will grow. One day, the seed will sprout into a great plant and bear fruit. Then, when the holy angels come, harvesting the world, they will collect all the progress we have made in this world, keep only the tiniest part of it, and burn the rest.
December 13, 2012 - Thursday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 41:13-20
Psalm 145:1, 9-13
Matthew 11:11-15
The Gospel today is complicated, defying easy explanation. Jesus says that there has been no one born of woman greater than John the Baptist, yet I know of two who were born of woman who are greater than John the Baptist: Jesus and Mary. And what does greater even mean? Greater in holiness or power or love of God or humility or wisdom or strength or prophecy? And if the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than him, does that mean that John does not participate in the Kingdom of Heaven?
Then Jesus says that from the time of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven suffered violence. In what way does the Kingdom suffer violence that it had not before John the Bapist? Was the disrespect for God's reign increased after John preached and baptized? Last we learn that John the Baptist is Elijah, which, taken literally, is strange since we know the story of his birth. Elijah lived 700 years earlier and was taken up in a chariot of fire. If John the Baptist were Elijah, we would expect that either people would have seen him come back in the chariot of fire or that no one would know where he came from.
It is possible to use tricks of language to make what Jesus has to say more understandable. We can say that John was playing the role of Elijah and that he was the greatest human being to live without having received the Holy Spirit as we have all received it. We can make these and many other explanations, but they cannot satisfy us.
The last words of the Gospel can guide us. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." Jesus speaks to us and we hear him. We need not be surprised if there are things which Jesus says that we do not understand. There is a certain human pride which presumes that if we do not understand someone, it must be their problem. When something is difficult to understand, we can shoehorn it into our limited understanding or dismiss it as nonsense. We can also humbly submit that we are not capable of comprehending everything.
Psalm 145:1, 9-13
Matthew 11:11-15
The Gospel today is complicated, defying easy explanation. Jesus says that there has been no one born of woman greater than John the Baptist, yet I know of two who were born of woman who are greater than John the Baptist: Jesus and Mary. And what does greater even mean? Greater in holiness or power or love of God or humility or wisdom or strength or prophecy? And if the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than him, does that mean that John does not participate in the Kingdom of Heaven?
Then Jesus says that from the time of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven suffered violence. In what way does the Kingdom suffer violence that it had not before John the Bapist? Was the disrespect for God's reign increased after John preached and baptized? Last we learn that John the Baptist is Elijah, which, taken literally, is strange since we know the story of his birth. Elijah lived 700 years earlier and was taken up in a chariot of fire. If John the Baptist were Elijah, we would expect that either people would have seen him come back in the chariot of fire or that no one would know where he came from.
It is possible to use tricks of language to make what Jesus has to say more understandable. We can say that John was playing the role of Elijah and that he was the greatest human being to live without having received the Holy Spirit as we have all received it. We can make these and many other explanations, but they cannot satisfy us.
The last words of the Gospel can guide us. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." Jesus speaks to us and we hear him. We need not be surprised if there are things which Jesus says that we do not understand. There is a certain human pride which presumes that if we do not understand someone, it must be their problem. When something is difficult to understand, we can shoehorn it into our limited understanding or dismiss it as nonsense. We can also humbly submit that we are not capable of comprehending everything.
December 10, 2012 - Monday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 35:1-10
Psalm 85:9-14
Luke 5:17-26
Well, which is easier to say, "Your sins are forgiven" or "rise and walk"? They seem about equally easy to say. Of course, Jesus did not speak English, so we cannot have a truly informed answer without comparing the original Aramaic phrases, which are lost to us. Even a scholar of Aramaic could only guess at what was originally said. Was one phrase more of a tongue twister? Neither will be many more syllables in any language. One includes a noun and a verb and the other two verbs and a conjunction. But whoever translated Jesus' words into Greek, whether Q or Matthew or a theoretical translator of Matthew, did not think that the original language had to be preserved for understanding the point, so we can comfortably answer the question then. Which is easier to say? It does not matter.
Since neither is easier to say, then Jesus' question implies that they mean the same thing. The Pharisees want to suggest that, while neither is easier to say, the healing is much easier to do. Jesus is telling them that he never heals except when he forgives sins. This bothers us modern people. We have rightly rejected the idea that sickness and sinfulness are correlated. Neither are the sickest the most sinful, nor are the most sinful always sick, and what of innocent children? However, just because sickness and sin are not strictly correlated does not mean that they are not related in some way, that the sinfulness of the world and the sickness of the world go hand in hand. As our first reading and tradition agree, in heaven there is neither sickness and death nor sin.
Jesus looked at the person on the stretcher and knew that while his body was disfigured by sickness, his soul was more disfigured by sin, as all our souls are. Though the crowd saw a man who could not walk, Jesus saw a man who could not love God. Any doctor could explain that to heal a lame man so that he can immediately stand up and walk would require many healings, of nerves and muscles and blood vessels. When Jesus heals, he does not name every healing individually but only part of the healing, and, without doubt, the central healing that every one of us needs is the forgiveness of sins. No healing, be it ever so amazing, would be complete without it, and Jesus would never heal us incompletely.
Psalm 85:9-14
Luke 5:17-26
Well, which is easier to say, "Your sins are forgiven" or "rise and walk"? They seem about equally easy to say. Of course, Jesus did not speak English, so we cannot have a truly informed answer without comparing the original Aramaic phrases, which are lost to us. Even a scholar of Aramaic could only guess at what was originally said. Was one phrase more of a tongue twister? Neither will be many more syllables in any language. One includes a noun and a verb and the other two verbs and a conjunction. But whoever translated Jesus' words into Greek, whether Q or Matthew or a theoretical translator of Matthew, did not think that the original language had to be preserved for understanding the point, so we can comfortably answer the question then. Which is easier to say? It does not matter.
Since neither is easier to say, then Jesus' question implies that they mean the same thing. The Pharisees want to suggest that, while neither is easier to say, the healing is much easier to do. Jesus is telling them that he never heals except when he forgives sins. This bothers us modern people. We have rightly rejected the idea that sickness and sinfulness are correlated. Neither are the sickest the most sinful, nor are the most sinful always sick, and what of innocent children? However, just because sickness and sin are not strictly correlated does not mean that they are not related in some way, that the sinfulness of the world and the sickness of the world go hand in hand. As our first reading and tradition agree, in heaven there is neither sickness and death nor sin.
Jesus looked at the person on the stretcher and knew that while his body was disfigured by sickness, his soul was more disfigured by sin, as all our souls are. Though the crowd saw a man who could not walk, Jesus saw a man who could not love God. Any doctor could explain that to heal a lame man so that he can immediately stand up and walk would require many healings, of nerves and muscles and blood vessels. When Jesus heals, he does not name every healing individually but only part of the healing, and, without doubt, the central healing that every one of us needs is the forgiveness of sins. No healing, be it ever so amazing, would be complete without it, and Jesus would never heal us incompletely.
December 7, 2012 - Friday of the First Week of Advent
Isaiah 29:17-24
Psalm 27:1, 4, 13-14
Matthew 9:27-31
Our Lord, in the Gospel today, says something surprising. Even though we are accustomed to it from years of familiarity with the Gospels, we should not forget how strange it is that, after healing two blind men, he instructs them to see that no one knows about the healing.
Various commentators have put forth explanations for this command and the others like it. Some we should reject: that it is a dramatic device introduced by the writers or that our Lord knew that his instruction would be disobeyed and was trying to encourage the stories to spread with a bit of reverse psychology. Of the other theories, to judge between them would require knowing the mind of God.
Why the Lord would tell them to keep the story quiet is unclear. That he told them is certain. Their duty, therefore, was just as certain. Their disobedience shows how very little faith they had in Jesus. They had faith that Jesus could make the blind see, but they did not have faith that his commands were good.
This partial faith is bad. A Christian should have complete faith in our Lord. The faith is incomplete in the simple believer who prays for miracles of healing but does not believe that morality can heal their life, not even morality taught by him from whom the healing is sought. We ought not put up with an incomplete faith. It is illogical. It is unreasonable. If God is God, why would we disobey him?
God is not trying to hurt us. His goal is not to make us unhappy, thwarted creatures. What he forbids is bad, and what he commands is good. Our God can divide the Red Sea, he can stop the sun in the sky, he can made this universe and everything in it, including us. We can trust him. Christ is powerful and wise. He knows what he is doing, and he is capable of doing anything. We can trust him. In Christ, we can, finally, let go of every defense and follow the advice of our Blessed Mother, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Psalm 27:1, 4, 13-14
Matthew 9:27-31
Our Lord, in the Gospel today, says something surprising. Even though we are accustomed to it from years of familiarity with the Gospels, we should not forget how strange it is that, after healing two blind men, he instructs them to see that no one knows about the healing.
Various commentators have put forth explanations for this command and the others like it. Some we should reject: that it is a dramatic device introduced by the writers or that our Lord knew that his instruction would be disobeyed and was trying to encourage the stories to spread with a bit of reverse psychology. Of the other theories, to judge between them would require knowing the mind of God.
Why the Lord would tell them to keep the story quiet is unclear. That he told them is certain. Their duty, therefore, was just as certain. Their disobedience shows how very little faith they had in Jesus. They had faith that Jesus could make the blind see, but they did not have faith that his commands were good.
This partial faith is bad. A Christian should have complete faith in our Lord. The faith is incomplete in the simple believer who prays for miracles of healing but does not believe that morality can heal their life, not even morality taught by him from whom the healing is sought. We ought not put up with an incomplete faith. It is illogical. It is unreasonable. If God is God, why would we disobey him?
God is not trying to hurt us. His goal is not to make us unhappy, thwarted creatures. What he forbids is bad, and what he commands is good. Our God can divide the Red Sea, he can stop the sun in the sky, he can made this universe and everything in it, including us. We can trust him. Christ is powerful and wise. He knows what he is doing, and he is capable of doing anything. We can trust him. In Christ, we can, finally, let go of every defense and follow the advice of our Blessed Mother, “Do whatever he tells you.”
November 26, 2012 - Monday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
The book of Revelation can be very confusing, especially when people do not read it carefully. The Jehovah’s Witnesses, for instance, have based several doctrines off of a clear misreading of today’s text. They say that heaven is full. That there is only room for 144,000 and all the spots are taken. Actually reading the whole chapter reveals that these 144,000 are male virgin Israelites. They are given a song to sing and only they can sing it. The point seems to be this song. It sounds like running water. It sounds like thunder. It sounds like harps. And only these male virgin Israelites can sing it. John sees a whole multitude of other people in heaven. He also has other groups who sing other songs: the 24 elders, the martyrs, and more.
What is heaven like? This question is present to us from the moment we first heard as children that there is such a place. Poets try to describe it, and people come back from sickness and injury with descriptions, and we are fascinated. Does it really exist? Is it truly wonderful? How do I get there? Every description is simply analogies because it must be beyond our understanding. And this analogy that John gives us in the book of Revelation is that heaven is like a concert. There are various choirs and every choir sings its own song.
This is the Communion of the Saints, expressed through music. Perhaps you feel like there are many people you know who have lives similar to yours, who understand you and what you are going through, or perhaps not. Perhaps you feel that your life is unique, between your work and family and the things you have suffered and what you have desired. I suppose that in the world of 7 billion people, or rather in the history of the world of 100 billion people, there have been many people like me, unusual as I am, and like each of you, unique as you are. When we meet in heaven, we will gather with them and sing a song which no one else without those experiences can sing. And not only sing, but listen too. We will understand those who are different from us as we listen to them sing their song. Each of these songs, in praise of God, revealing an aspect of human experience. When we sing our song and listen to the other songs, that will be heaven.
The book of Revelation can be very confusing, especially when people do not read it carefully. The Jehovah’s Witnesses, for instance, have based several doctrines off of a clear misreading of today’s text. They say that heaven is full. That there is only room for 144,000 and all the spots are taken. Actually reading the whole chapter reveals that these 144,000 are male virgin Israelites. They are given a song to sing and only they can sing it. The point seems to be this song. It sounds like running water. It sounds like thunder. It sounds like harps. And only these male virgin Israelites can sing it. John sees a whole multitude of other people in heaven. He also has other groups who sing other songs: the 24 elders, the martyrs, and more.
What is heaven like? This question is present to us from the moment we first heard as children that there is such a place. Poets try to describe it, and people come back from sickness and injury with descriptions, and we are fascinated. Does it really exist? Is it truly wonderful? How do I get there? Every description is simply analogies because it must be beyond our understanding. And this analogy that John gives us in the book of Revelation is that heaven is like a concert. There are various choirs and every choir sings its own song.
This is the Communion of the Saints, expressed through music. Perhaps you feel like there are many people you know who have lives similar to yours, who understand you and what you are going through, or perhaps not. Perhaps you feel that your life is unique, between your work and family and the things you have suffered and what you have desired. I suppose that in the world of 7 billion people, or rather in the history of the world of 100 billion people, there have been many people like me, unusual as I am, and like each of you, unique as you are. When we meet in heaven, we will gather with them and sing a song which no one else without those experiences can sing. And not only sing, but listen too. We will understand those who are different from us as we listen to them sing their song. Each of these songs, in praise of God, revealing an aspect of human experience. When we sing our song and listen to the other songs, that will be heaven.
October 10, 2012 - Wednesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time
Galatians 2:1-2, 7-14
Psalm 117:1-2
Luke 11:1-4
The Gospel today raises the question of what Jesus really said. You surely noticed that the Our Father in the Gospel today is rather different from the Our Father that we usually pray. The difference between the Our Father that we usually pray, from Matthew, and the prayer from Luke that we read today are more than just translation issues. This prayer is not even the “Our Father”, it just starts “Father”.
It is not uncommon for Matthew and Luke to relate different versions of events. This can often be explained by saying that both versions occurred. It should not surprise us that Jesus preached two similar but not identical sermons. The differences in the beatitudes, for instance, can be explained in this way. However, it hard to believe that the disciples asked Jesus how to pray more than once and he gave them two versions of the Our Father.
So what are we to think about the faithfulness of the Gospels? The shorter version of the Our Father makes sense if we just assume that Luke got it from someone with a rather poor memory, but if we begin assuming that bad memories are at play in the Gospels, what can we trust? Scholars are far more likely to assume that Luke’s version is original and that Matthew expanded his version, and it is true that there is nothing in Matthew’s version that is not implied in Luke’s, but the devotion of Christians to the Our Father, to the Lord’s Prayer, is precisely because it was written by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself. We want the original!
If we relied on ourselves to reinterpret Christianity with each passing generation, some of us would switch to this Our Father, some of us would stay with Matthew’s version, and some of us would throw up our hands and say, “Let’s forget the whole thing, if we can’t even get the Our Father right.”
It is good to read the Scriptures and seek wisdom from them, but while the Scriptures are the revelation of God to us, our individual interpretation cannot be the final authority, lest the 2 billion Christians have 2 billion Christianities. Nowhere in the Bible does it tell us which Our Father to pray. We must rely on Tradition. The Church has prayed Matthew’s version for thousands of years. This Tradition is more convincing than any scholarly argument or personal feeling. Tradition is also divine revelation.
Psalm 117:1-2
Luke 11:1-4
The Gospel today raises the question of what Jesus really said. You surely noticed that the Our Father in the Gospel today is rather different from the Our Father that we usually pray. The difference between the Our Father that we usually pray, from Matthew, and the prayer from Luke that we read today are more than just translation issues. This prayer is not even the “Our Father”, it just starts “Father”.
It is not uncommon for Matthew and Luke to relate different versions of events. This can often be explained by saying that both versions occurred. It should not surprise us that Jesus preached two similar but not identical sermons. The differences in the beatitudes, for instance, can be explained in this way. However, it hard to believe that the disciples asked Jesus how to pray more than once and he gave them two versions of the Our Father.
So what are we to think about the faithfulness of the Gospels? The shorter version of the Our Father makes sense if we just assume that Luke got it from someone with a rather poor memory, but if we begin assuming that bad memories are at play in the Gospels, what can we trust? Scholars are far more likely to assume that Luke’s version is original and that Matthew expanded his version, and it is true that there is nothing in Matthew’s version that is not implied in Luke’s, but the devotion of Christians to the Our Father, to the Lord’s Prayer, is precisely because it was written by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself. We want the original!
If we relied on ourselves to reinterpret Christianity with each passing generation, some of us would switch to this Our Father, some of us would stay with Matthew’s version, and some of us would throw up our hands and say, “Let’s forget the whole thing, if we can’t even get the Our Father right.”
It is good to read the Scriptures and seek wisdom from them, but while the Scriptures are the revelation of God to us, our individual interpretation cannot be the final authority, lest the 2 billion Christians have 2 billion Christianities. Nowhere in the Bible does it tell us which Our Father to pray. We must rely on Tradition. The Church has prayed Matthew’s version for thousands of years. This Tradition is more convincing than any scholarly argument or personal feeling. Tradition is also divine revelation.
October 3, 2012 - Wednesday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time
Job 9:1-12, 14-16
Psalm 88:10-15
Luke 9:57-62
Jesus tells someone, “Follow me.” The man asks permission to go bury his father first. Does he mean “Lord, give me a few days. My father just died.” or does he mean “Lord, let me go home until my father dies someday and I bury him.”? This second possibility is not so strange. I know many people who have plans for their life which they will not begin until their parents die. I know a woman who wanted to become Catholic for 60 years, and finally joined the Church at age 70 when her mother died.
The problem with this interpretation is that Jesus was going to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. So were hundreds of thousands of Jews, surely including the man’s father if he were alive and well. We have no reason to suppose, and several reasons to doubt, that the disciples never saw their families once they started following Jesus. I think that the man’s father had just died or maybe was about to die, and he is telling Jesus that he will not be going to Passover since he has to bury his father.
Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their dead”, which is literally impossible. Dead people cannot bury someone; dead people cannot do anything. Many people interpret the sentence to mean, “Let those who are spiritually dead bury the physically dead people.” Perhaps this sounds profound at first, but the closer one considers this interpretation the stupider it seems. When everyone is a Christian, will the dead bodies just start piling up? I am very strongly of the opinion that Jesus did not say stupid things, and this is stupid. Moreover, it would make Jesus a hypocrite, since he was buried by some of his closest disciples. Burial is a good thing; it is a work of mercy. Jesus was not condemning the practice. Indeed, he is encouraging it.
I think that “dead” here means both those who have died and those who are going to die. In this sense it refers to all of us. We are all going to die. A hundred years from now, or maybe more, we will all be dead. The man asks permission to leave to perform a work of mercy, so Jesus agrees and sends him away, he says “go” not “come”. Jesus’ response could be expanded and rephrased this way, “Truly those who are going to die ought to bury those who have died. Go and bury your father, and preach the Kingdom of God when you get there."
Psalm 88:10-15
Luke 9:57-62
Jesus tells someone, “Follow me.” The man asks permission to go bury his father first. Does he mean “Lord, give me a few days. My father just died.” or does he mean “Lord, let me go home until my father dies someday and I bury him.”? This second possibility is not so strange. I know many people who have plans for their life which they will not begin until their parents die. I know a woman who wanted to become Catholic for 60 years, and finally joined the Church at age 70 when her mother died.
The problem with this interpretation is that Jesus was going to Jerusalem for the Passover feast. So were hundreds of thousands of Jews, surely including the man’s father if he were alive and well. We have no reason to suppose, and several reasons to doubt, that the disciples never saw their families once they started following Jesus. I think that the man’s father had just died or maybe was about to die, and he is telling Jesus that he will not be going to Passover since he has to bury his father.
Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their dead”, which is literally impossible. Dead people cannot bury someone; dead people cannot do anything. Many people interpret the sentence to mean, “Let those who are spiritually dead bury the physically dead people.” Perhaps this sounds profound at first, but the closer one considers this interpretation the stupider it seems. When everyone is a Christian, will the dead bodies just start piling up? I am very strongly of the opinion that Jesus did not say stupid things, and this is stupid. Moreover, it would make Jesus a hypocrite, since he was buried by some of his closest disciples. Burial is a good thing; it is a work of mercy. Jesus was not condemning the practice. Indeed, he is encouraging it.
I think that “dead” here means both those who have died and those who are going to die. In this sense it refers to all of us. We are all going to die. A hundred years from now, or maybe more, we will all be dead. The man asks permission to leave to perform a work of mercy, so Jesus agrees and sends him away, he says “go” not “come”. Jesus’ response could be expanded and rephrased this way, “Truly those who are going to die ought to bury those who have died. Go and bury your father, and preach the Kingdom of God when you get there."
September 30, 2012 - Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Numbers 11:25-29
Psalm 19:8, 10, 12-14
James 5:1-6
Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
The stories in our first reading and Gospel today are kind of the same. In the first reading, Joshua (Moses’ disciple) tells Moses about people prophesying outside the official circle of prophecy. In the Gospel, John (Jesus’ disciple) tells Jesus about someone exorcising demons outside the official circle of discipleship. In both cases the disciples want the teacher to stop such unofficial actions. In both cases the teacher replies that they are glad that someone is using the power, even unofficially. Would Joshua rather that the prophecy of the Lord go untold? Would the disciples rather that the demons remained in the people? They have lost sight of the fact that good is being accomplished.
The disciples have a desire for a purity of religion. They want their religion to be simple and logical and follow all the rules. The teachers know that religion is logical but it is not simple because people are not simple. All the rules are followed, but the disciples do not know all the rules. It is like when you tell a child about the rule against hitting other people. Then they see a boxing match, and they want to know why the two men are breaking the rules. You can try to explain that this does not break the rule, but they are unlikely to understand why. Some children will consider the boxers to be naughty. Other children will decide that rules are meant to be broken. They will hit a fellow student and declare that they were boxing.
So in religion we start with simple rules, such as “divorce is never permissible.” That rule is true as far as it goes. Then a person sees someone who is divorced and got an annulment, and pretty soon they will either think that the Church needs to stop making so many exceptions to the rules and enforce it strictly like they did in the good old days or that the rule on divorce does not apply anymore. On the one hand we have extreme traditionalists and on the other hand extreme liberals. In reality the rule on divorce and annulments is just extremely complex and always has been.
This desire to make religion simple, or, indeed, simplistic, is in all of us. We want a simple religion that does not need a lot of explanation. We prefer “poor” to “poor in spirit”. We liked the way religion felt when we were children. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. Jesus loves us. And honestly, those statements are all true. We do not lie to children; we just simplify. When you grow up you realize that there are very few good people in the world and very few real villains. So where do all the people in the middle go? And if Jesus loves us, why is there a hell? There are answers to these questions, but they are not simple. Even the answers we have are simplified versions of the truth that is greater than any human mind.
So when Jesus came, he gave very simple teachings which need to be thought about and explained. Sometimes the literal meaning of his teachings still makes sense, like when he says “Love one another.” Sometimes it does not, like when he says “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.” This does not mean that we are picking and choosing which teachings we are going to follow. Jesus gave his teachings to intelligent human beings. He knew that we would figure out what he meant, more or less. We are constantly figuring out his teachings, so that over 2000 years there have been enormous developments in doctrine. Meanwhile, we are also constantly misunderstanding so that the Church has to face new problems all the time. The Church can never change a teaching, but we can always understand it better.
For instance, there are historical figures who took Jesus literally and cut off parts of their body, but that was never very popular for obvious reasons. The principle behind the teaching is really the point: we are naïve if we leave the causes of sin lying around and hope to avoid sin nonetheless. Jesus is saying that even if the cause of sin is as beloved to us as our own right hand, we should cut it off; even if the removal would be as painful as plucking out an eye, we should not hesitate. If a person is causing you to sin, cut them off. Better to enter heaven alone than to go to hell with friends. If your television is causing you to sin, pluck it out of your home. Better to enter heaven having missed all the best episodes than to enter hell having watched them. If the internet or a kind of website is causing you to sin, sever the connection. Better to enter heaven crippled in this digital world than to enter hell well-informed. The removal of these or many other causes of sin would be hard, but not as painful as plucking out your eye. To live without television or internet in this modern age would be a serious disability, but not as bad as having a foot cut off. In other words, even if we are severe with ourselves, we will never exceed the examples that Jesus gave.
For our second reading today, St. James writes an indictment of the rich that seems literal, but he is using the word “rich” here in the way that Jesus used “poor in spirit”, to refer to an attitude, not an objective financial status. He is speaking of the rich in spirit who rob the poor for profit, who murder people who stand in their way, who live for the purpose of luxury and pleasure. The rich in spirit are totally consumed with themselves. When the end comes, they will have saved nothing of real value, they will have no treasure in heaven, everything they have will be destroyed. Someone could be rich in spirit no matter how much money they have.
We must not minimize the teaching of Jesus and look at every rule for its exceptions, but we are not being more religious if we try to take them all literally and be more Catholic than the Pope. The Church gives us the Catechism as a reference book if you want to understand some of the complexity. If you want to understand more, there is a lot to study, but, no matter how much theology we learn, what we need above all is the humility to realize that we do not understand completely. That is why we can never judge. We also need the humility to trust the teachings of Jesus and the 2000 years of understanding by the Church. With some rules of the Church, like contraception, gaymarriage, and social teaching, people will say, “I cannot understand the Church’s position.” That is fine, so long as they do not take this lack of understanding and think that it proves something. We need the humility to trust even when we do not understand, to not think that our own way of working out the issue trumps the Bible and 2000 years of tradition.
Psalm 19:8, 10, 12-14
James 5:1-6
Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
The stories in our first reading and Gospel today are kind of the same. In the first reading, Joshua (Moses’ disciple) tells Moses about people prophesying outside the official circle of prophecy. In the Gospel, John (Jesus’ disciple) tells Jesus about someone exorcising demons outside the official circle of discipleship. In both cases the disciples want the teacher to stop such unofficial actions. In both cases the teacher replies that they are glad that someone is using the power, even unofficially. Would Joshua rather that the prophecy of the Lord go untold? Would the disciples rather that the demons remained in the people? They have lost sight of the fact that good is being accomplished.
The disciples have a desire for a purity of religion. They want their religion to be simple and logical and follow all the rules. The teachers know that religion is logical but it is not simple because people are not simple. All the rules are followed, but the disciples do not know all the rules. It is like when you tell a child about the rule against hitting other people. Then they see a boxing match, and they want to know why the two men are breaking the rules. You can try to explain that this does not break the rule, but they are unlikely to understand why. Some children will consider the boxers to be naughty. Other children will decide that rules are meant to be broken. They will hit a fellow student and declare that they were boxing.
So in religion we start with simple rules, such as “divorce is never permissible.” That rule is true as far as it goes. Then a person sees someone who is divorced and got an annulment, and pretty soon they will either think that the Church needs to stop making so many exceptions to the rules and enforce it strictly like they did in the good old days or that the rule on divorce does not apply anymore. On the one hand we have extreme traditionalists and on the other hand extreme liberals. In reality the rule on divorce and annulments is just extremely complex and always has been.
This desire to make religion simple, or, indeed, simplistic, is in all of us. We want a simple religion that does not need a lot of explanation. We prefer “poor” to “poor in spirit”. We liked the way religion felt when we were children. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. Jesus loves us. And honestly, those statements are all true. We do not lie to children; we just simplify. When you grow up you realize that there are very few good people in the world and very few real villains. So where do all the people in the middle go? And if Jesus loves us, why is there a hell? There are answers to these questions, but they are not simple. Even the answers we have are simplified versions of the truth that is greater than any human mind.
So when Jesus came, he gave very simple teachings which need to be thought about and explained. Sometimes the literal meaning of his teachings still makes sense, like when he says “Love one another.” Sometimes it does not, like when he says “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.” This does not mean that we are picking and choosing which teachings we are going to follow. Jesus gave his teachings to intelligent human beings. He knew that we would figure out what he meant, more or less. We are constantly figuring out his teachings, so that over 2000 years there have been enormous developments in doctrine. Meanwhile, we are also constantly misunderstanding so that the Church has to face new problems all the time. The Church can never change a teaching, but we can always understand it better.
For instance, there are historical figures who took Jesus literally and cut off parts of their body, but that was never very popular for obvious reasons. The principle behind the teaching is really the point: we are naïve if we leave the causes of sin lying around and hope to avoid sin nonetheless. Jesus is saying that even if the cause of sin is as beloved to us as our own right hand, we should cut it off; even if the removal would be as painful as plucking out an eye, we should not hesitate. If a person is causing you to sin, cut them off. Better to enter heaven alone than to go to hell with friends. If your television is causing you to sin, pluck it out of your home. Better to enter heaven having missed all the best episodes than to enter hell having watched them. If the internet or a kind of website is causing you to sin, sever the connection. Better to enter heaven crippled in this digital world than to enter hell well-informed. The removal of these or many other causes of sin would be hard, but not as painful as plucking out your eye. To live without television or internet in this modern age would be a serious disability, but not as bad as having a foot cut off. In other words, even if we are severe with ourselves, we will never exceed the examples that Jesus gave.
For our second reading today, St. James writes an indictment of the rich that seems literal, but he is using the word “rich” here in the way that Jesus used “poor in spirit”, to refer to an attitude, not an objective financial status. He is speaking of the rich in spirit who rob the poor for profit, who murder people who stand in their way, who live for the purpose of luxury and pleasure. The rich in spirit are totally consumed with themselves. When the end comes, they will have saved nothing of real value, they will have no treasure in heaven, everything they have will be destroyed. Someone could be rich in spirit no matter how much money they have.
We must not minimize the teaching of Jesus and look at every rule for its exceptions, but we are not being more religious if we try to take them all literally and be more Catholic than the Pope. The Church gives us the Catechism as a reference book if you want to understand some of the complexity. If you want to understand more, there is a lot to study, but, no matter how much theology we learn, what we need above all is the humility to realize that we do not understand completely. That is why we can never judge. We also need the humility to trust the teachings of Jesus and the 2000 years of understanding by the Church. With some rules of the Church, like contraception, gaymarriage, and social teaching, people will say, “I cannot understand the Church’s position.” That is fine, so long as they do not take this lack of understanding and think that it proves something. We need the humility to trust even when we do not understand, to not think that our own way of working out the issue trumps the Bible and 2000 years of tradition.
July 31, 2012 - Memorial of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Priest
Jeremiah 14:17-22
Psalm 79:8-9, 11, 13
Matthew 13:36-43
I do not like this interpretation, at least in the first way I understood it. How can the weeds be called the “sons of the Evil One”? Does this mean that the world is divided into good people and bad people and the good people were put there by God and the bad people were put there by the Devil? If this interpretation were our only Scripture, that would be the most reasonable understanding, but it is not.
We know that God created Adam and Eve. The devil only corrupted the good that God created. He did not create his own people. It was a child of Adam and Eve who committed the first murder. Indeed, it was Adam and Eve themselves who committed the first sin. How can Jesus say that the devil snuck into the field and planted the bad people when he knows that the bad people are not weeds: they are wheat gone bad? God created all of the humans who have ever existed. He created Mary and all the saints, and he created Judas and every wicked person, including Satan himself. Jesus says that the weeds are the sons of the Evil One, but Jesus also says in another place that the Evil One, Satan, is the father of lies, so the weeds must be lies, not people.
The official translation says “all who cause others to sin”, but there is no reason to translate this as if it were people. The devil does not plant people in the world. He plants lies that trap people, that cause them to sin. But what of the evildoers? These are clearly people, but they were not planted by the devil.
The wheat grows up surrounded by weeds. It was supposed to be a beautiful wheat field, but now it is a mess. As always happens, some of the wheat has succumbed to the weeds. People have believed the lies. What happens when wheat is weakened by the surrounding weeds? It fails to produce fruit. It is just a stalk without any grains. When the angels harvest the wheat, these empty stalks will be counted as weeds. So we should not understand this parable as if the world was made of wheat and weeds, good people and bad. We are all good seed, but unless we grow above the weeds and produce the fruit expected of us, we will not be counted as wheat when the harvest comes.
Psalm 79:8-9, 11, 13
Matthew 13:36-43
I do not like this interpretation, at least in the first way I understood it. How can the weeds be called the “sons of the Evil One”? Does this mean that the world is divided into good people and bad people and the good people were put there by God and the bad people were put there by the Devil? If this interpretation were our only Scripture, that would be the most reasonable understanding, but it is not.
We know that God created Adam and Eve. The devil only corrupted the good that God created. He did not create his own people. It was a child of Adam and Eve who committed the first murder. Indeed, it was Adam and Eve themselves who committed the first sin. How can Jesus say that the devil snuck into the field and planted the bad people when he knows that the bad people are not weeds: they are wheat gone bad? God created all of the humans who have ever existed. He created Mary and all the saints, and he created Judas and every wicked person, including Satan himself. Jesus says that the weeds are the sons of the Evil One, but Jesus also says in another place that the Evil One, Satan, is the father of lies, so the weeds must be lies, not people.
The official translation says “all who cause others to sin”, but there is no reason to translate this as if it were people. The devil does not plant people in the world. He plants lies that trap people, that cause them to sin. But what of the evildoers? These are clearly people, but they were not planted by the devil.
The wheat grows up surrounded by weeds. It was supposed to be a beautiful wheat field, but now it is a mess. As always happens, some of the wheat has succumbed to the weeds. People have believed the lies. What happens when wheat is weakened by the surrounding weeds? It fails to produce fruit. It is just a stalk without any grains. When the angels harvest the wheat, these empty stalks will be counted as weeds. So we should not understand this parable as if the world was made of wheat and weeds, good people and bad. We are all good seed, but unless we grow above the weeds and produce the fruit expected of us, we will not be counted as wheat when the harvest comes.
June 20, 2012 - Wednesday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time
2 Kings 2:1, 6-14
Psalm 31:20-21, 24
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Sometimes people quote Jesus here and suggest that what he means is that our religious expression should be entirely private, done in the privacy of our bedrooms. I do not say this lightly, but clearly Jesus did not really mean that we should go into our own rooms to pray even though he says it. How am I so sure? Because that is such an anachronistic idea. None of the people whom Jesus was preaching to had their own room. Most of them shared a two room house. One room was for the cattle and the other room was for the family. And the whole house was no bigger than most of our bedrooms. To hear this statement and then apply it unthinkingly to 21st century American conditions does not lead to a proper understanding.
Indeed, the word Jesus uses does not even mean bedroom, which concept would have been unknown. The word is more like walk-in safe. The word refers to the room that a king would have in his castle to keep the valuables. Even most of us do not have one of those.
So what did Jesus mean, if he did not mean that we should literally go pray in the inner closet of our house? The common interpretation over the past 2000 years has said that he was referring to the inner closet of our hearts. It was not until modern buildings that anyone could have imagined that it would be taken literally.
If the inner closet was for keeping valuables away from thieves, then the inner closet of our hearts is where we keep what we most value. There is the right place to speak to God. Go right in among all the things that you hold most sacred, and speak to God there. If we find that this storeroom is not appropriate, if it is filled with worldly and ungodly things that we value, we should clean it out and fill it with the Holy Spirit. This is what prayer is really about, Jesus is saying. Not impressing people or seeming devoted to God. Prayer is going into the deepest place of our souls, clearing out the mess, and filling it with God. If we just try and do that, then God, who sees in secret, will give us the great gift of himself which we can treasure in that inner storeroom.
Psalm 31:20-21, 24
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Sometimes people quote Jesus here and suggest that what he means is that our religious expression should be entirely private, done in the privacy of our bedrooms. I do not say this lightly, but clearly Jesus did not really mean that we should go into our own rooms to pray even though he says it. How am I so sure? Because that is such an anachronistic idea. None of the people whom Jesus was preaching to had their own room. Most of them shared a two room house. One room was for the cattle and the other room was for the family. And the whole house was no bigger than most of our bedrooms. To hear this statement and then apply it unthinkingly to 21st century American conditions does not lead to a proper understanding.
Indeed, the word Jesus uses does not even mean bedroom, which concept would have been unknown. The word is more like walk-in safe. The word refers to the room that a king would have in his castle to keep the valuables. Even most of us do not have one of those.
So what did Jesus mean, if he did not mean that we should literally go pray in the inner closet of our house? The common interpretation over the past 2000 years has said that he was referring to the inner closet of our hearts. It was not until modern buildings that anyone could have imagined that it would be taken literally.
If the inner closet was for keeping valuables away from thieves, then the inner closet of our hearts is where we keep what we most value. There is the right place to speak to God. Go right in among all the things that you hold most sacred, and speak to God there. If we find that this storeroom is not appropriate, if it is filled with worldly and ungodly things that we value, we should clean it out and fill it with the Holy Spirit. This is what prayer is really about, Jesus is saying. Not impressing people or seeming devoted to God. Prayer is going into the deepest place of our souls, clearing out the mess, and filling it with God. If we just try and do that, then God, who sees in secret, will give us the great gift of himself which we can treasure in that inner storeroom.
May 24, 2012 - Thursday of the Seventh Week of Easter
Acts 22.30; 23.6-11
Psalm 16:1-2a+5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
John 17.20-26
We have been contemplating in the Gospel the “High Priestly Prayer” of Jesus. This prayer is confusing. On the one hand, Jesus uses the very simplest of words, yet, on the other hand, it is nearly impossible to understand what he is saying. On the one hand, Jesus is speaking to God the Father. On the other hand, this prayer was heard by St. John who wrote it down so that we can still read it today. On the one hand, Jesus is asking the Father to accomplish something in us. On the other hand, in this conversation between the Father and the Son, the will of God for us is being revealed in a most singular way, and what is a commandment but the will of God?
Let us consider one part of one sentence today: “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you.” If a theologian wants to say anything of real importance they usually begin making up ten-letter words, but there is no word in that sentence that a three-year-old would not know. Nevertheless, the meaning here is deeper than anything that any philosopher or theologian ever said.
Jesus prays that “they may all be one.” Who are they? He said that “they” includes his disciples and anyone who comes to believe in him through the preaching of his disciples. This is how all Christians came to believe; we are all unified because we all heard the Gospel from Jesus, either directly or through others. So already Jesus has given us the basis of the unity that he is praying for. What do we have that we have not been given? If we were given the faith, how could anyone act as if they owned the faith as their personal possession?
Jesus clarifies what it means to be one: “you, Father, are in me, and I am in you.” The unity of Christians should be like the unity of the Trinity. What is the unity of the Trinity? Love. The unity of the Trinity is a unity of essence, and God is love. The Father is in the Son because the Son loves the Father. The Son is in the Father because the Father loves the Son. We Christians will be unified in each other when we love each other without reservation.
Psalm 16:1-2a+5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
John 17.20-26
We have been contemplating in the Gospel the “High Priestly Prayer” of Jesus. This prayer is confusing. On the one hand, Jesus uses the very simplest of words, yet, on the other hand, it is nearly impossible to understand what he is saying. On the one hand, Jesus is speaking to God the Father. On the other hand, this prayer was heard by St. John who wrote it down so that we can still read it today. On the one hand, Jesus is asking the Father to accomplish something in us. On the other hand, in this conversation between the Father and the Son, the will of God for us is being revealed in a most singular way, and what is a commandment but the will of God?
Let us consider one part of one sentence today: “I pray not only for these, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you.” If a theologian wants to say anything of real importance they usually begin making up ten-letter words, but there is no word in that sentence that a three-year-old would not know. Nevertheless, the meaning here is deeper than anything that any philosopher or theologian ever said.
Jesus prays that “they may all be one.” Who are they? He said that “they” includes his disciples and anyone who comes to believe in him through the preaching of his disciples. This is how all Christians came to believe; we are all unified because we all heard the Gospel from Jesus, either directly or through others. So already Jesus has given us the basis of the unity that he is praying for. What do we have that we have not been given? If we were given the faith, how could anyone act as if they owned the faith as their personal possession?
Jesus clarifies what it means to be one: “you, Father, are in me, and I am in you.” The unity of Christians should be like the unity of the Trinity. What is the unity of the Trinity? Love. The unity of the Trinity is a unity of essence, and God is love. The Father is in the Son because the Son loves the Father. The Son is in the Father because the Father loves the Son. We Christians will be unified in each other when we love each other without reservation.
May 9, 2012 - Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter
Acts 15:1-6
Psalm 122:1-5
John 15:1-8
Jesus explains to us today a great deal through this metaphor of the vine and the branches. He tells us that he is vine, which is to say that he is the center, the foundation of reality. There are branches on this vine. We are the branches. We are peripheral and contingent.
Some branches do not bear fruit, so they are removed. These branches have failed at their purpose in life. There is a long standing debate between philosophers who believe that life has a purpose and philosophers who believe that we make our own purpose up as we go along. Jesus falls on one clear side of this debate. Every branch has a purpose: to bear fruit. It is not up to the branch to decide what it is going to do with its life. Every life has a purpose: to bear fruit. To be good means to bear fruit, to fulfill your purpose. To be bad means to be fruitless, to waste your life.
What is fruit? Fruit is the part of a plant that is not meant for itself. It is meant for others. A branch that does not bear fruit is completely self-concerned. It may be a strong, healthy branch, but it has never lived for others. What is fruit? Fruit is the part of the plant responsible for reproduction. A branch that does not bear fruit is doing nothing to prepare the seed of faith which they received for others.
But if a branch is bearing fruit, Jesus says, it must be pruned, which is to say, cut back. It is not enough to bear just any fruit. Jesus wants us to bear good fruit, so he cuts back what is going astray and allows what is promising to come to maturity. He prunes us with his word, his teachings which tell us what parts of our lives we need to cut off and what we need to encourage.
Jesus also tells us what would be a supremely arrogant phrase unless he is God himself: “Without me you can do nothing.” We branches exist to remain with the vine. A branch that has broken off the vine is not even a branch anymore; it is just a stick. Even if we were producing wonderful fruit, but then broke off from the vine, it will never mature. All of our nourishment, all of our life, comes from the vine.
Psalm 122:1-5
John 15:1-8
Jesus explains to us today a great deal through this metaphor of the vine and the branches. He tells us that he is vine, which is to say that he is the center, the foundation of reality. There are branches on this vine. We are the branches. We are peripheral and contingent.
Some branches do not bear fruit, so they are removed. These branches have failed at their purpose in life. There is a long standing debate between philosophers who believe that life has a purpose and philosophers who believe that we make our own purpose up as we go along. Jesus falls on one clear side of this debate. Every branch has a purpose: to bear fruit. It is not up to the branch to decide what it is going to do with its life. Every life has a purpose: to bear fruit. To be good means to bear fruit, to fulfill your purpose. To be bad means to be fruitless, to waste your life.
What is fruit? Fruit is the part of a plant that is not meant for itself. It is meant for others. A branch that does not bear fruit is completely self-concerned. It may be a strong, healthy branch, but it has never lived for others. What is fruit? Fruit is the part of the plant responsible for reproduction. A branch that does not bear fruit is doing nothing to prepare the seed of faith which they received for others.
But if a branch is bearing fruit, Jesus says, it must be pruned, which is to say, cut back. It is not enough to bear just any fruit. Jesus wants us to bear good fruit, so he cuts back what is going astray and allows what is promising to come to maturity. He prunes us with his word, his teachings which tell us what parts of our lives we need to cut off and what we need to encourage.
Jesus also tells us what would be a supremely arrogant phrase unless he is God himself: “Without me you can do nothing.” We branches exist to remain with the vine. A branch that has broken off the vine is not even a branch anymore; it is just a stick. Even if we were producing wonderful fruit, but then broke off from the vine, it will never mature. All of our nourishment, all of our life, comes from the vine.
April 10, 2012 - Tuesday in the Octave of Easter
Today's Readings
Our interpretation of the Gospel today, and, indeed, of the Resurrection itself, relies on how exactly one sentence was pronounced. If the story had been passed down orally, with a certain way of saying the line passed down along with the line, we would know how to understand this Gospel and we would know more about the Resurrection.
The line in today’s Gospel that causes this difficulty is translated as, “Jesus said to her, ‘Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.’” The literal Greek can also be said to begin with “Do not touch me.” In one way of interpreting the verse, Mary recognized Jesus after he called out her name. She calls him Rabbi and reaches out to embrace his feet and he stops her. He says this line. It is all very theological. There are books written on why Mary could not touch Jesus. If this were all true, we should read those books and understand the resurrected body of Jesus as something so far beyond our own bodies that no one should dare touch it without being invited or that Mary should not try to hold Jesus down to earth when he is going to heaven.
However, there is another interpretation. Jesus calls out her name. She looks up and recognizes him. She calls him “Rabbi” while running to embrace his feet. She reaches him, embraces his feet and does not let go. She thought he was dead. He was dead. Now he is alive. Minutes pass. Jesus looks down at her, laughing gently, and says to her “You can let go now. I am not going anywhere yet. I am not going to rise up to heaven the moment you let go. I am really here. It is really me. This is not a dream. Stop holding on to me, I am not going up to the Father yet.” This interpretation means the opposite of the other. It means that the resurrected Jesus, while completely transfigured, was not living a life so completely outside our understanding. He even makes a joke.
Myself, I like the second interpretation better. I think the other Gospels support it too. There is some danger in interpreting the words of Jesus as if he were too high and mighty to be touched. He came down to earth to be touched. And he who invited Thomas to stick his finger in the nail holes, would have welcomed the love shown by Mary Magdalene’s embrace.
Our interpretation of the Gospel today, and, indeed, of the Resurrection itself, relies on how exactly one sentence was pronounced. If the story had been passed down orally, with a certain way of saying the line passed down along with the line, we would know how to understand this Gospel and we would know more about the Resurrection.
The line in today’s Gospel that causes this difficulty is translated as, “Jesus said to her, ‘Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.’” The literal Greek can also be said to begin with “Do not touch me.” In one way of interpreting the verse, Mary recognized Jesus after he called out her name. She calls him Rabbi and reaches out to embrace his feet and he stops her. He says this line. It is all very theological. There are books written on why Mary could not touch Jesus. If this were all true, we should read those books and understand the resurrected body of Jesus as something so far beyond our own bodies that no one should dare touch it without being invited or that Mary should not try to hold Jesus down to earth when he is going to heaven.
However, there is another interpretation. Jesus calls out her name. She looks up and recognizes him. She calls him “Rabbi” while running to embrace his feet. She reaches him, embraces his feet and does not let go. She thought he was dead. He was dead. Now he is alive. Minutes pass. Jesus looks down at her, laughing gently, and says to her “You can let go now. I am not going anywhere yet. I am not going to rise up to heaven the moment you let go. I am really here. It is really me. This is not a dream. Stop holding on to me, I am not going up to the Father yet.” This interpretation means the opposite of the other. It means that the resurrected Jesus, while completely transfigured, was not living a life so completely outside our understanding. He even makes a joke.
Myself, I like the second interpretation better. I think the other Gospels support it too. There is some danger in interpreting the words of Jesus as if he were too high and mighty to be touched. He came down to earth to be touched. And he who invited Thomas to stick his finger in the nail holes, would have welcomed the love shown by Mary Magdalene’s embrace.
March 6, 2012 - Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent
Today's Readings
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
“Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven.” It seems at first glance that we are guilty of letting a human tradition stand in the way of the words of our Lord. It seems that way at second glance too. We cannot say that Jesus was wrong, and we cannot say that Matthew did not faithfully hand on what Jesus Christ really taught.
There are some little tricks that people use to explain this, but they are not satisfactory. True, we call our male parent, “Father”, but Jesus is talking about titles that religious people take on. True, we do not use the exact word that Jesus condemns, since he did not speak English (the word “father” had not even been invented yet), but this seems too legalistic. Jesus is saying that we should not call anyone by the same name that we use for our male parent, no matter what language. True, Jesus says “call no one on earth your father”, and we do not call anyone “Our Father” except God, but why do we come so close to breaking the command?
However, and this is a big however, the use of “Father” as a title for religious leaders goes back as far as the Church herself. The desert monks of the early Church were called “Abba”. St. Paul himself says that “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” We did not just discover the Gospel of Matthew yesterday. Even St. Jerome, 1600 years ago, struggled to interpret this verse in light of the tradition. It seems strange that this tradition grew up in a Church which always read the Gospels. The people who first started calling a priest or a monk “father” knew what Jesus had said.
One reason why tradition is so essential in the Church is that the members of the early Church understood better the literal meaning of Jesus’ words. They were closer to him culturally and historically. If they, reading this Gospel just as we do every year, did not think it was a contradiction to call religious leaders “Father” who are we to disagree? But if we do keep calling people on earth “Father”, we do so acknowledging our one Father in heaven. Let us “bow our knees before the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.”
December 24, 2011 - Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord, at the Vigil Mass
Today's Readings
Today we celebrate the birth of Savior, Jesus Christ, who was born in a stable and laid in a manger. I think that most people today, since we do not get to see mangers very often, think that a manger is a place where the baby Jesus was laid. A manger is a feeding trough. A place that cows and sheep eat hay out of. It was the best that Mary and Joseph had, so it was what they used.
Consider the imagery of Jesus, the bread of life, born in the town of Bethlehem, which means house of bread, and laid in a feeding trough, a place for food. This baby, Jesus, is the bread that we eat at Mass, which is not bread. Although it looks like bread, it is Jesus.
Consider the poverty that Jesus was born into. A woman gave birth in a stable. That woman is the Queen of Heaven and Earth. The child she gave birth to was laid on the cleanest hay Joseph could find, which probably was not all that clean. That child is the King of All Creation. God could have provided the best bed in the world and the most luxurious room, but Jesus did not descend from heaven to earth to spend time with the rich and powerful. He was always poor.
Consider the love of God for the world. He so loved the world that he sent his only Son as our Savior. All we have to do is love him in return. He does not force us to love him by being strong, but by being weak. The weakness of God: the weakness in the manger and the weakness on the cross. The weakness of God is stronger than the strength of humans. How can we help but love a little baby? How can we help but love a man who suffered and died for us? How could our hearts be so hardened?
So why then, was Joseph going to abandon Mary and Jesus? There are some who speculate that Joseph was going to divorce Mary quietly because he suspected that he had been betrayed. This is unsupported by the text. It says that Mary was found with child through the Holy Spirit. No doubts are suggested. Moreover, when the angel appears, he does not say, “Joseph, son of David, do not doubt.” He says, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid.” Guided by the words of the angel, we can be confident that the reason Joseph was going to divorce Mary was that he was afraid.
What did Joseph have to be afraid of? We are told that his fear arose because he was “a righteous man.” He had the fear of God in him. In the Old Testament, the priests Nadab and Abihu are killed by fire because they offer the wrong kind of incense; God struck down Uzzah because he touched the Ark of the Covenant in order to prevent it from falling off the cart that it was on. Then there was the unnamed prophet killed by a lion because another prophet told him that God said to eat some food, but he was lying. Serving God can be dangerous.
Joseph was not suspicious. He was afraid. Probably, the job of protecting the Blessed Virgin Mary which he had accepted, already seemed more than he was capable of. Now, hearing that she was carrying a child within her who was the Son of God, the Savior of Israel and of the Whole World, pushed him over the top. Mary was now the new Ark of the Covenant. The child would be God himself. What if Joseph made a mistake? What if he said the wrong thing, or did the wrong thing?
What father has not looked at his newborn child and not had these fears? These are normal fears for any parent, but how magnified they were when the child was God. Mary had been judged worthy. She was sinless. But Joseph was a sinner, like the rest of humanity, even though he was a good person. He knew that he was not worthy to care for Jesus. His did not suspect Mary, he suspected himself, that he was incapable of what he had gotten into. So it was that Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to shame Mary, resolved to divorce her quietly.
And then the angel came in a dream. Better in a dream for such a man, in such a situation, than while awake. He might have had a heart attack right then and there. The angel tells him not to be afraid, “For it is through the Holy Spirit.” Not only the conception was through the Holy Spirit, but everything. Joseph is told the first thing he has to do: name the child Jesus, so at least he knows the first thing.
The angel tells Joseph something else, which is very important: this child will save his people from their sins. In this sentence, the angel affirms that Jesus is God. He will save his people. Who has a people except God? The Israelites are the Lord’s people, and so is the rest of the world. And then the angel says that he will save his people from their sins. By this, the angel tells Joseph that times are different now.
Surely Joseph made a few missteps. He was a sinner, like you and I, but he did not have to be afraid. God knew that Joseph was a sinner, but he still chose Joseph to care for his only Son. We know of only one other time that God spoke to Joseph in a dream, when it was time to flee to Egypt. Perhaps God had other messages for Joseph that are not recorded, or perhaps those were the only two that Joseph needed. But Joseph did the best he could, and it was good enough. Once he knew that God actually wanted him to do this, he could only obey.
How are we going to respond then? We know that Jesus is forgiving. We know that Jesus only wants us to be saved. We know that even some of those who helped kill Jesus are now with him forever in heaven. We do not have to be afraid of God striking us with lightning if we make a mistake. The time has passed when God was revealing his holiness to the world in that way. Now God is revealing to us his love. Will we take advantage of his forbearance and offend him freely? No. We will look at that child, the newborn child (not even like the one we see in manger scenes who is more like a tiny adult) but a newborn child, so fragile and weak, and we will love him and we will know without the least doubt that he loves us.
Today we celebrate the birth of Savior, Jesus Christ, who was born in a stable and laid in a manger. I think that most people today, since we do not get to see mangers very often, think that a manger is a place where the baby Jesus was laid. A manger is a feeding trough. A place that cows and sheep eat hay out of. It was the best that Mary and Joseph had, so it was what they used.
Consider the imagery of Jesus, the bread of life, born in the town of Bethlehem, which means house of bread, and laid in a feeding trough, a place for food. This baby, Jesus, is the bread that we eat at Mass, which is not bread. Although it looks like bread, it is Jesus.
Consider the poverty that Jesus was born into. A woman gave birth in a stable. That woman is the Queen of Heaven and Earth. The child she gave birth to was laid on the cleanest hay Joseph could find, which probably was not all that clean. That child is the King of All Creation. God could have provided the best bed in the world and the most luxurious room, but Jesus did not descend from heaven to earth to spend time with the rich and powerful. He was always poor.
Consider the love of God for the world. He so loved the world that he sent his only Son as our Savior. All we have to do is love him in return. He does not force us to love him by being strong, but by being weak. The weakness of God: the weakness in the manger and the weakness on the cross. The weakness of God is stronger than the strength of humans. How can we help but love a little baby? How can we help but love a man who suffered and died for us? How could our hearts be so hardened?
So why then, was Joseph going to abandon Mary and Jesus? There are some who speculate that Joseph was going to divorce Mary quietly because he suspected that he had been betrayed. This is unsupported by the text. It says that Mary was found with child through the Holy Spirit. No doubts are suggested. Moreover, when the angel appears, he does not say, “Joseph, son of David, do not doubt.” He says, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid.” Guided by the words of the angel, we can be confident that the reason Joseph was going to divorce Mary was that he was afraid.
What did Joseph have to be afraid of? We are told that his fear arose because he was “a righteous man.” He had the fear of God in him. In the Old Testament, the priests Nadab and Abihu are killed by fire because they offer the wrong kind of incense; God struck down Uzzah because he touched the Ark of the Covenant in order to prevent it from falling off the cart that it was on. Then there was the unnamed prophet killed by a lion because another prophet told him that God said to eat some food, but he was lying. Serving God can be dangerous.
Joseph was not suspicious. He was afraid. Probably, the job of protecting the Blessed Virgin Mary which he had accepted, already seemed more than he was capable of. Now, hearing that she was carrying a child within her who was the Son of God, the Savior of Israel and of the Whole World, pushed him over the top. Mary was now the new Ark of the Covenant. The child would be God himself. What if Joseph made a mistake? What if he said the wrong thing, or did the wrong thing?
What father has not looked at his newborn child and not had these fears? These are normal fears for any parent, but how magnified they were when the child was God. Mary had been judged worthy. She was sinless. But Joseph was a sinner, like the rest of humanity, even though he was a good person. He knew that he was not worthy to care for Jesus. His did not suspect Mary, he suspected himself, that he was incapable of what he had gotten into. So it was that Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to shame Mary, resolved to divorce her quietly.
And then the angel came in a dream. Better in a dream for such a man, in such a situation, than while awake. He might have had a heart attack right then and there. The angel tells him not to be afraid, “For it is through the Holy Spirit.” Not only the conception was through the Holy Spirit, but everything. Joseph is told the first thing he has to do: name the child Jesus, so at least he knows the first thing.
The angel tells Joseph something else, which is very important: this child will save his people from their sins. In this sentence, the angel affirms that Jesus is God. He will save his people. Who has a people except God? The Israelites are the Lord’s people, and so is the rest of the world. And then the angel says that he will save his people from their sins. By this, the angel tells Joseph that times are different now.
Surely Joseph made a few missteps. He was a sinner, like you and I, but he did not have to be afraid. God knew that Joseph was a sinner, but he still chose Joseph to care for his only Son. We know of only one other time that God spoke to Joseph in a dream, when it was time to flee to Egypt. Perhaps God had other messages for Joseph that are not recorded, or perhaps those were the only two that Joseph needed. But Joseph did the best he could, and it was good enough. Once he knew that God actually wanted him to do this, he could only obey.
How are we going to respond then? We know that Jesus is forgiving. We know that Jesus only wants us to be saved. We know that even some of those who helped kill Jesus are now with him forever in heaven. We do not have to be afraid of God striking us with lightning if we make a mistake. The time has passed when God was revealing his holiness to the world in that way. Now God is revealing to us his love. Will we take advantage of his forbearance and offend him freely? No. We will look at that child, the newborn child (not even like the one we see in manger scenes who is more like a tiny adult) but a newborn child, so fragile and weak, and we will love him and we will know without the least doubt that he loves us.
December 21, 2011 - Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Advent
Today's Readings
Our first reading today, from the Song of Songs, is part of a love song. Throughout history, some people have complained that this love song should not be in the Bible. It never even mentions God. These people have such little imagination. The story of salvation is a love story. In this song sung between the lover and the beloved in alternating verses, we have a true image of our relationship with God. He is the lover, and we are the beloved. He tells us to “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come.” He repeats this invitation over and over. God is always saying to you: “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come.” It is not flattery. He loves you, whether anyone else does or not. He sees you as beautiful, whether the world says you are or not. He is calling you. How can you resist?
Our Gospel today shows us what the beloved of God should be like. Mary was in a hurry. She went into the hill country with haste. Was she running away? No. She was in a hurry because there were things to be done. She goes to her cousin Elizabeth, to help her during her pregnancy. How unselfish this girl is! She does not think of her own needs; she thinks about what would help someone else.
When she received God’s gift to the world in her own womb, she did not withdraw into hiding; she went out into the world. She went forth as the Christ-bearer. She wanted to give what she had received. She does not greedily hold on to the gift given to her by God; she immediately, and with haste, gives it to the world, beginning with Elizabeth.
No gift from God is as great as the gift of his Son to the world. In Jesus Christ, God gave himself to the world, but this gift of love was not given to everyone at once. This gift was entrusted to one person – Mary, the Mother of God. God relied on Mary. He trusted Mary. So it was that the whole world received God’s gift through Mary. No one has received Jesus Christ except through his Mother. Though Peter and Paul preached Jesus to the ends of the earth, Jesus entered this world in one particular place, and that place is the womb of the Blessed Virgin. All generations will call her blessed.
Our first reading today, from the Song of Songs, is part of a love song. Throughout history, some people have complained that this love song should not be in the Bible. It never even mentions God. These people have such little imagination. The story of salvation is a love story. In this song sung between the lover and the beloved in alternating verses, we have a true image of our relationship with God. He is the lover, and we are the beloved. He tells us to “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come.” He repeats this invitation over and over. God is always saying to you: “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come.” It is not flattery. He loves you, whether anyone else does or not. He sees you as beautiful, whether the world says you are or not. He is calling you. How can you resist?
Our Gospel today shows us what the beloved of God should be like. Mary was in a hurry. She went into the hill country with haste. Was she running away? No. She was in a hurry because there were things to be done. She goes to her cousin Elizabeth, to help her during her pregnancy. How unselfish this girl is! She does not think of her own needs; she thinks about what would help someone else.
When she received God’s gift to the world in her own womb, she did not withdraw into hiding; she went out into the world. She went forth as the Christ-bearer. She wanted to give what she had received. She does not greedily hold on to the gift given to her by God; she immediately, and with haste, gives it to the world, beginning with Elizabeth.
No gift from God is as great as the gift of his Son to the world. In Jesus Christ, God gave himself to the world, but this gift of love was not given to everyone at once. This gift was entrusted to one person – Mary, the Mother of God. God relied on Mary. He trusted Mary. So it was that the whole world received God’s gift through Mary. No one has received Jesus Christ except through his Mother. Though Peter and Paul preached Jesus to the ends of the earth, Jesus entered this world in one particular place, and that place is the womb of the Blessed Virgin. All generations will call her blessed.
December 5th, 2011 - Monday, Second Week of Advent
Today's Readings
Well, which is easier to say, "Your sins are forgiven" or "rise and walk"? They seem about equally easy to say. Of course, Jesus did not speak English, so we cannot have a truly informed answer without comparing the original Aramaic phrases, which are lost to us. Even a scholar of Aramaic could only guess at what was originally said. Was one phrase more of a tongue twister? Neither will be many more syllables in any language. One includes a noun and a verb and the other two verbs and a conjunction. But whoever translated Jesus' words into Greek, whether Q or Matthew or a theoretical translator of Matthew, did not think that the original language had to be preserved for understanding the point, so we can comfortably answer the question then. Which is easier to say? It does not matter.
Since neither is easier to say, then Jesus' question implies that they mean the same thing. The Pharisees want to suggest that, while neither is easier to say, the healing is much easier to do. Jesus is telling them that he never heals except when he forgives sins. This bothers us modern people. We have rightly rejected the idea that sickness and sinfulness are correlated. Neither are the sickest the most sinful, nor are the most sinful always sick, and what of innocent children? However, just because sickness and sin are not strictly correlated does not mean that they are not related in some way. As our first reading and tradition agree, in heaven there is neither sickness and death nor sin.
Jesus looked at the man on the stretcher and knew that while his body was disfigured by sickness, his soul was more disfigured by sin, as all our souls are. Though the crowd saw a man who could not walk, Jesus saw a man who could not love God. Any doctor knows that to heal a lame man so that he can immediately stand up and walk would require many healings, of nerves and muscles and blood vessels. When Jesus heals, he does not name every healing individually but only the central healing, and, without doubt, the central healing that every one of us needs is the forgiveness of sins. No healing, be it ever so amazing, would be complete without it, and Jesus would never heal us incompletely.
Well, which is easier to say, "Your sins are forgiven" or "rise and walk"? They seem about equally easy to say. Of course, Jesus did not speak English, so we cannot have a truly informed answer without comparing the original Aramaic phrases, which are lost to us. Even a scholar of Aramaic could only guess at what was originally said. Was one phrase more of a tongue twister? Neither will be many more syllables in any language. One includes a noun and a verb and the other two verbs and a conjunction. But whoever translated Jesus' words into Greek, whether Q or Matthew or a theoretical translator of Matthew, did not think that the original language had to be preserved for understanding the point, so we can comfortably answer the question then. Which is easier to say? It does not matter.
Since neither is easier to say, then Jesus' question implies that they mean the same thing. The Pharisees want to suggest that, while neither is easier to say, the healing is much easier to do. Jesus is telling them that he never heals except when he forgives sins. This bothers us modern people. We have rightly rejected the idea that sickness and sinfulness are correlated. Neither are the sickest the most sinful, nor are the most sinful always sick, and what of innocent children? However, just because sickness and sin are not strictly correlated does not mean that they are not related in some way. As our first reading and tradition agree, in heaven there is neither sickness and death nor sin.
Jesus looked at the man on the stretcher and knew that while his body was disfigured by sickness, his soul was more disfigured by sin, as all our souls are. Though the crowd saw a man who could not walk, Jesus saw a man who could not love God. Any doctor knows that to heal a lame man so that he can immediately stand up and walk would require many healings, of nerves and muscles and blood vessels. When Jesus heals, he does not name every healing individually but only the central healing, and, without doubt, the central healing that every one of us needs is the forgiveness of sins. No healing, be it ever so amazing, would be complete without it, and Jesus would never heal us incompletely.
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