Thus says the LORD, who opens a way in the sea and a path in the mighty waters,
who leads out chariots and horsemen,
a powerful army, till they lie prostrate together, never to rise, snuffed out and quenched like a wick.
Remember not the events of the past,
the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new!
In today's gospel, a woman and Jesus are caught in a hopeless predicament. Both will lose no matter how Jesus answers her accusers. She might be stoned to death, and he along with her.
One time one of our friars decided to capture a homeless peahen that had taken up residence at our retreat house in Minnesota. Noisy, dirty and fiercely territorial, she had to go. This very tall man holding a blanket spread wide cornered the bird in the el of two buildings. Several of us happened to catch the action from the windows in the dining room. Just as he was about to fall upon the bird and smother her in the blanket, she took to flight. He'd forgotten these stalking birds do fly once in awhile. The watching friars erupted in applause!
Very often, in human affairs, when there seems no escape, God provides a way. Even atheistic scientists, determined as they are to prove determinism, are beginning to realize the possibilities of the infinite. No one knows the future; no one can predict it.
Can the Syrian crisis be resolved? Can millions of refugees be absorbed into nations committed to the status quo? Can climate catastrophe be averted? Can a polarized Congress be fixed?
Can Alice escape a room whose only door is no higher than her ankle. She will when she eats the bread that appears on the altar.
See, I am doing something new!
Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
In the desert I make a way,
in the wasteland, rivers.