Monday, July 23, 2012

Monday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time



Some of the scribes and Pharisees said to Jesus,
"Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you."

Chaplain Bren Bishop, my colleague at the VA hospital and a retired military officer, tells of the time when he had been reassigned to duty at Fort Knox. He looked forward to completing his years of service and retiring with a pension. A young lieutenant asked him, “What year did you join the Army, sir?”

Chaplain Bishop, long steeped in military culture, knew exactly what the young fellow was doing; he was challenging him in a game of one-up-man-ship. He replied, “1972, sir. What year were you born?”

In today’s gospel certain scribes and Pharisees challenge Jesus, “We wish to see a sign from you.” They were asking for his credentials. But, if he does present something to validate his authority, they will probably laugh it off. He is, after all, a country boy from Nazareth, not a cosmopolitan of Jerusalem. But Jesus offers nothing, neither signs nor credentials. He is what he says he is; take it or leave it.

In the first Lord of the Rings movie, the young Frodo Baggins momentarily argues with the wizard Gandolph about ownership of the Ring. Suddenly Gandolph stands up, towering over the hobbit; he thunders with authority and dazzles with a mystical light. Terrified, Frodo backs down and Gandolph resumes his gentle, avuncular pose.

That is never Jesus’ way. Even when he rises from the dead he does so without a great display of power. He just appears to some folks along the road to Emmaus and in the Cenacle. They know him by his wounds or by his breaking of bread. There are no deafened ears or shattered windows in his wake; no one is blinded by his brilliance.

Jesus had as much authority as any other man simply by his human nature, but he never chose to browbeat another human being into obedience or submission. He does not want that kind of respect. Rather, in his profound regard for our dignity -- and in his even greater reverence for our wounded, frightened spirits – he would appear as no more than one of us. Even when his opponents mock and berate him -- daring him to “Come down off that cross, if you are the Son of God,” – and it appears his restraint is pointless for they will never get it; he remains meek and humble of heart. He cannot do otherwise.

Contrary to popular belief faith is born of love, not of fear. It does not believe in signs, no matter how spectacular. We should not believe in a God who might punish us for failing to love, honor and obey him; rather we believe in the Lord who offers himself in all humility as the way, the truth and the life.

1 comment:

  1. Jesus' response to the Scribes and Pharisees is, "An evil and unfaithful generation seeks a sign,....." There is my word, seek. I, too, seek. But what am I seeking? Am I demanding a sign like the Scribes and Pharisees? Am I only sincerely seeking a deeper relationship with the Lord?
    Your final paragraph moves me to a deeper understanding of God. God is love. That is a basic principle of Franciscan thought. I think your homily also bends towards a healthy understanding of the mystery of the Incarnation. God becomes human, not that God demands us to become divine. God meets us where we are. That is about love. How wonderful!!!!

    ReplyDelete

I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.