Thursday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 482

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you,
how many times I yearned to gather your children together
as a hen gathers her brood under her wings,
but you were unwilling!

We sinners often prefer to sidestep or defer the truth, and this story of the Lord's grief as he approached Jerusalem is a case in point. Christians can miss the point entirely as they speculate about what God might "think" about the Jews -- as if God thinks in some kind of remotely recognizable human fashion. 

If we recognize Jesus's sadness and allow it to creep into our own souls we must recognize its origin in our own behavior. The Bible means nothing to us if we do not hear our own history -- our sinful attitudes and behaviors as well as our blessed compliance with God's sovereignty -- in the Old and New Testaments. 

Luke 4 describes the popular response to Jesus's inaugural address to the synagogue in Capernaum: 

All spoke highly of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They also asked, “Isn’t this the son of Joseph?”

But they could not stop and remain in their initial amazement at his gracious words; they had to go beyond amazement and begin questioning him. "Isn't this the son of Joseph? Who does he think he is? Coming in here all high and mighty, and telling us what to do and what's wrong with us!" 

The sinful mind is unwilling to stay in Eden but wants to ask irrelevant questions about the inexplicably, inexhaustibly beautiful. We are like "the woman [who] saw that the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eyes, and the tree was desirable for gaining wisdom." She did not remain in that wonderful state of wonder, but "took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it."

Saint Luke describes several people who model the right response to God's great works, 

All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them. (Luke 2:18-20)

Those three groups -- all who heard it, Mary, and the shepherds -- stilled their brains for a while. They let themselves be amazed and, "Let God be God." We call that contemplation. 

The invitation remains for us as we approach Jerusalem with the Lord, and as we feel his sadness. We remember the city's history of sin and our part in it. And then we are astonished by the promise of a New Jerusalem coming down out of heaven as beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. 

Wednesday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 481

Slaves, be obedient to your human masters with fear and trembling,
in sincerity of heart, as to Christ,
not only when being watched, as currying favor,
but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart,
willingly serving the Lord and not men,
knowing that each will be requited from the Lord
for whatever good he does, whether he is slave or free.

 A Jewish rabbi explained the principles of kosher to me thus: the Word of God is sacred and cannot be dismissed. If the Lord spoke to his people in the desert using metaphors of the desert, we must find ways to keep that word in the city where we live. If no one prepares goat meat and we're not likely to boil a kid goat in its mother's milk; God's authoritative word remains. And so Jews develop kosher rules, including never using the same pans to prepare milk products and meat products, out of their deep reverence for the Law of God. 

If slavery is illegal and persists only in the shadows of any capitalist system, can we ignore the Apostle's teaching about slavery? I think not. Nor can we dismiss God's word by simply saying, "Slavery is a terrible thing, and what else does the Bible tell us?" Much could also be said about the rights of workers in a capitalist system but that complex discussion can wait for another occasion. 

If slaves were the ordinary workers of Roman empire, employees in this world of socialized capitalism are also expected and required to give their employers obedience and loyalty to make their "companies" work. The work company implies companionship. It means, "We're in this together. We can prosper together if we support one another and conduct ourselves honorably, when the owner/bosses are watching and when they're not." 

In his First Letter to the Corinthians, Saint Paul urged his people, 

So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. Avoid giving offense, whether to Jews or Greeks or the church of God, just as I try to please everyone in every way, not seeking my own benefit but that of the many, that they may be saved.

The worst, most demanding, most exhausting kind of labor; that work which is least likely to be satisfying or done satisfactorily: is that which we don't want to do. If it's necessary, it must be good, and we can accept it in the service of our Good God. Even as the Lord embraced his cross and carried it willingly with us. 

 

Tuesday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 480

Again he said, “To what shall I compare the Kingdom of God?
It is like yeast that a woman took
and mixed in with three measures of wheat flour
until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”

Periodically we should be reminded of the threefold hiddenness of our God. As tempted as we might be to tear away the veil, or at least to press against upon it and discover what palpable, substantial reality might be found behind it, we must be content to worship an invisible God. 

I refer to our doctrine of God's presence in Jesus. He was born of Mary -- we insist -- and was clearly a man of his time, subject to the laws, politics, economics, and religious forces of first century Palestine. And yet he is God, the Son of God. That is a hidden mystery; we cannot see with our eyes any direct proof of his divinity, although we infer it from the stories we tell about him. Which we have on the integrity of his (long-dead) apostles and disciples. 

Secondly, we believe he gives himself to us, and invites us into the mystery of his passion, death, and resurrection, under the forms of bread and wine. They are "the body and blood of Christ!" (Many people say more simply, "Jesus!") We cannot see Jesus there, although some people describe a mystical experience of his presence. Nor can any scientific instrument prove this mystery to skeptics.  

Finally, with Saint Paul and twenty centuries of testimony, we believe that the Church is the body of Christ. It remains as pure and substantial as it was when the Lord demanded of Saint Paul, "Why do you persecute me?" Despite our innumerable, staggering, and scandalous sins, we present Jesus to the world. We don't simply represent him in some distant, ambassadorial sense; we are his presence. 

Today's teaching about wee mustard seeds and powdery yeast reminds us of God's invisible presence, and of the Kingdom which is being built before the uncomprehending eyes of the world. 

Presbyters and preachers are powerfully tempted to tear away, penetrate, or somehow press against that mysterious veil to discover a more palpable, substantial form. Just about any pagan religion does a better job of it, like the Egyptian priests who turned their staffs into serpents. 

Saint Paul's rivals -- his so-called super-apostles -- described to gullible Corinthians their powerful mystical experiences of the seventh heaven, whereas Paul mockingly suggested he'd only seen the third heaven, And he followed that remark with his boast about the many indignities he'd suffered, although they only proved his personal weakness. 

Only faith can penetrate the hiddenness of God as the Letter to the Hebrews attests, 

Therefore, brothers, since through the blood of Jesus we have confidence of entrance into the sanctuary by the new and living way he opened for us through the veil, that is, his flesh. and since we have “a great priest over the house of God,” let us approach with a sincere heart and in absolute trust, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience* and our bodies washed in pure water. (Hebrews 10:19-22)

Presiding at Mass, priests, in their efforts to persuade their congregation to believe in Jesus, can become too demonstrative. But their affectation becomes only a distraction between the Lord and his people. While I might use frequent reminders to keep children's attention, during an ordinary Mass among adults I hope my manner and enunciation only leads in prayer. I should not have to persuade anyone to believe; we are a congregation of believers. Pomposity demonstrates a lack of faith in, and perhaps contempt for, the congregation. 

As evangelists, every Christian must remember there is nothing obvious about God's presence in our world. He is not immediately accessible to reason. Nothing is gained by rudeness, pushiness, or cajoling people to believe. The hidden Lord is seen only in our dedication and sincerity, and in our deep respect for every person. For everyone is, in some sense, a very particular image of God. We see him everywhere, and we find him especially in our disappointments and hardships. 

Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, Apostles

 Lectionary: 666

When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles... Simon who was called a Zealot, and Judas the son of James...

Last year, on this feast day, I wondered why Simon and Jude are so often coupled together. Many churches are called "Saint Simon and Jude," and they share this feast day. Beyond their names, we know little about them. Simon was called "the zealot," and Jude is the patron saint of lost causes.  

This year, as I reread a passage I've read many times before, I think I see why they're listed together. It's because they're the third and second last named of the twelve apostles in Saint Matthew's gospel, before the last, who betrayed the Lord. 

We remember the apostles of Jesus because, despite their human frailty which is so apparent in the gospel accounts, the Holy Spirit used them as willing channels of grace and mercy to all the world. The entire gospel depends upon their integrity, which might seem an uncertain foundation but it has stood firm for these twenty centuries. 

Perhaps we also honor Saints Simon and Jude for their obscurity. They remind us that, a hundred years from now, not many will remember us. Parents with prolific grandchildren might be remembered but most celibates can be virtually certain that their names will be noted only in old graveyards. If some few are remembered in 2124, they'll certainly be forgotten by 2224. 

Simon and Jude kept the faith in a difficult time and announced the gospel to an indifferent world. Perhaps they set their world ablaze. Or not. In any case, their Gospel set the world ablaze. 

What matters, as Saint Paul said from his jail cell, is that the name of the Lord is proclaimed, as he explained to the Philippians; 

I want you to know, brothers, that my situation has turned out rather to advance the gospel, so that my imprisonment has become well known in Christ throughout the whole praetorium and to all the rest, and so that the majority of the brothers, having taken encouragement in the Lord from my imprisonment, dare more than ever to proclaim the word fearlessly.

Of course, some preach Christ from envy and rivalry, others from good will. The latter act out of love, aware that I am here for the defense of the gospel; the former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not from pure motives, thinking that they will cause me trouble in my imprisonment.

What difference does it make, as long as in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is being proclaimed? And in that I rejoice.

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 149

Behold, I will bring them back
        from the land of the north;
    I will gather them from the ends of the world,
        with the blind and the lame in their midst,
    the mothers and those with child;
        they shall return as an immense throng.
    They departed in tears,
        but I will console them and guide them....

After the Babylonians sacked and destroyed the city of Jerusalem, the Prophet Jeremiah offered a reassuring promise to our displaced spiritual ancestors in Babylon, 800 miles from home. They would return to Jerusalem some day. Their city had been razed; their farms and livestock destroyed; and, like the Cherokee Americans in 1938, they had been forced to walk a trail of tears to the outskirts of Babylon where they served as servants and slaves of their conquerors. 

But Jeremiah promised, 

I will gather them from the ends of the world,

        with the blind and the lame in their midst,

    the mothers and those with child;

        they shall return as an immense throng.

    They departed in tears,

        but I will console them and guide them;

    I will lead them to brooks of water,

        on a level road, so that none shall stumble.

In Advent we hear the same message in more familiar words in the Prophet Isaiah, 

In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD!

Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!

Every valley shall be lifted up,

every mountain and hill made low;

The rugged land shall be a plain,

the rough country, a broad valley.

After healing Bartimaeus, the blind man in today’s gospel, Jesus commands the beggar to "Go your way," and he follows Jesus – because his way is the Way of the Lord, a journey to the New Jerusalem. Jeremiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled: the Lord gathers the poor, the blind, the lame, and mothers with children from the ends of the world, and he leads us on the Way back to our heavenly homeland. There are several details in today’s gospel we should not overlook for they tell us about how to make that homeward journey to the Kingdom of God. 

First, we hear the beggar calling  on Jesus, “Son of David, have pity on me!” He knows the ancestry of “Jesus, the son of David;” who was a descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We must know and appreciate the Jewish ancestry of Jesus and Mary and the apostles. As Saint Jerome said, “Ignorance of the Bible is ignorance of Jesus.” If you’re not familiar with the Old Testament story of King David, the warrior, ruler, songwriter, adulterer, and murderer, how do you expect to know his son, Jesus? If you do not sing the psalms of David how will you sing with the angelic choirs?

Secondly, Bartimaeus will not be quieted by the crowd around Jesus. He kept calling out until Jesus stopped. We have often heard the Lord urge us to, “Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened to you” – no matter what anyone says. 

We might receive many blessings from the Lord – security, comfort, wealth, pleasure, even love – but if we have never asked for those things we assume we have a right to them. And, because we show neither appreciation nor gratitude for them, they don't – in fact – belong to us. And they will be taken away. We cannot receive the Lord’s favors without opening our hearts and asking for help – often, daily, and many times a day.  Bartimaeus asks, and dares to ask persistently, despite the rebuke of the crowd. And he is heard. 

When Jesus asks, “What do you want?” The man answers, “I want to see.” I have heard parents pleading with their children, “What do you want?” And the children could not or would not answer. “Well then, just sit there and feel sorry for yourself!” the frustrated adult finally says. 

Spouses also sometimes do that to one another. They say, “If you love me, you should know what I want!” Hello, it doesn’t work that way. Do you know what you want from God? Are you willing to ask for it? 

We should notice how the crowd rebuked the man for making a fuss, but he would not be quieted. Who were they? The Lord’s disciples! They were apparently listening intently to him; but they didn’t recognize his voice in the cry of the poor. And so Bartimaeus was given particular attention by the Lord, and was favored because he shouted, and disturbed everyone. 

It’s comical how the crowd suddenly changed their tune, when Jesus called him. “"Take courage; get up!” they said, “Jesus is calling you." But he was never afraid of them or the Lord. 

So Bartimaeus “threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.” His cloak is not an irrelevant detail. It was apparently his only and most valued possession. It was his shelter against the sun and rain, the roof over his head, and a cushion when he sat upon it. But he threw it off and came to Jesus. 

Two weeks ago, we heard the Lord tell a rich man to “Sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." Even the poorest of the poor cannot cling to their few possessions when they come to the Lord. We’re often told you cannot take your wealth to heaven; Bartimaeus didn’t even take his one and only cloak. 

Now listen to the words of Jesus: "Go your way; your faith has saved you." When Jesus healed Bartimaeus, he opened the way for the blind man. A few years later, Saul of Tarsus was persecuting the People of the Way until Jesus stopped him on the road to Damascus and he became Saint Paul the Apostle. Jesus restored Bartimaeus’s eyes so that he could walk the Way of faith. He could walk with all the confidence of an adult who cheerfully helps children, the aged, and people with disabilities. He does not travel alone because he wants to help others go with him. 

Secondly, as we have often heard, the Son of David saves us by our faith in him just as the blind man’s eyes were opened. “There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved.”

When Bartimaeus can see the first thing he sees is the face of Jesus. Can you imagine his beautiful face? Like his ancestor Jacob who wrestled with God, Bartimaeus looked upon the face of God and lived! The Letter to the Hebrews tells us to keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, he is “the leader and perfecter of faith.”

And finally, Saint Mark says, Immediately, upon receiving his sight, he followed Jesus on the way. There’s no time for hesitation here, and no going back to retrieve your cloak. The Lord said, “Go your way,” and his way, like ours, is the way of the Lord. And in the words of Jesus’s ancestor and King David’s grandmother Ruth, we will go wherever he goes. Wherever he stays, we will stay. His people will be our people, and his God will be our God.

Saturday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 478

...until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching....
Rather, living the truth in love, we should grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ....

What is currently the next Big Thing? 

I asked Google that question and came up with: 1. Artificial Intelligence (AI) · 2.Autonomous driving · 3. Reusable rockets · 4. Virtual Reality and Augmented Reality · and 5. Rapid adaptation of renewable energy.

I asked about fashion? Boho, preppy, all-jeans outfits, tall boots, and minimalist ballet flats. In music? Personalized music, immersive live performances: and advancements in sped-up music.

Somewhere in college, about 1969 or 1970, when dropping out was the big thing, I realized I had dropped out when I entered the Franciscan novitiate, despite the insistence of other dropouts that I was The System. I was not pursuing the latest big thing. I wasn't even interested in it. 

I had not dropped out to "find myself." Even in the sixties that sounded precious and pretentious, and was not my concern. I wasn't too sure why I had chosen this course, but I knew it wasn't the way of the world. A half-century later I realize it wasn't really my choice; I had been chosen and was simply pursuing the path the Lord laid before me. 

I was seeking that "mature manhood" of which Saint Paul speaks. I was building my knowledge, belief, and faith on the rock of Catholic faith in Jesus Christ rather than the current ideology, so I had no need to be violent or hate anyone. From that rock I could observe and weather the storms of opinion and the currents of fashion. Or, as Saint Paul put it, I was not "tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching." On a solid foundation, I could be grateful for my own security. 

As the world seems to be changing rapidly around us -- and we can let future historians explain that to our children -- we stay with what we know: Jesus the Son of God, his Church, our Sacraments, (especially the Eucharist) and our daily prayers. Because the world around us would lead us daily into temptation, the Lord restores our courage and strength as often. He does not fail us and we must not fail one another. 

Friday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time

 

Lectionary: 477

You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky;
why do you not know how to interpret the present time?


I have been rather preoccupied with apocalyptic musing lately. Three things happened to me: a very heavy book I was reading suggested it. 

I was delighted to discover so many reassuring apocalyptic symbols in the minor basilica dedicated to Our Lady of Consolation, in Carey, Ohio. The pregnant virgin is the greatest omen after the Lord's resurrection. There are over three hundred angels represented in statues, paintings, and windows. And the Lamb who was slain appears on the frontispiece of the main altar, and in the center of the dome overhead. 

Finally, we are in the midst of an extremely intense election cycle. 

So when I read the Lord's insistence that we should read the signs of the times, I am all ears. Certainly, the election of every American president is billed as the most important election of your life! They've been saying that for years. And each time that meme is true in many ways, though I have survived more than a few. Every election is a critical moment concerning our future as one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. 

The decision not to vote expresses one's doubt in our viability as a democratic nation. When the day comes that a critical mass of voters refuses to vote, the democracy will collapse like a house of cards. The electorate must read the signs of the times and decide whether 2024 is that hour. 

Of course, there are many other signs to be read. 

• Devastating hurricanes indicate a warming planet, along with many subtler changes like the disappearance of many species, and the migrations of millions of people to cooler climates. 
• Wars are always an apocalyptic event; while they are fought to prevent certain change they cause many more. History seems to leap forward several steps during a time of war. 
• The recent pandemic fits the Biblical description of God's wrath, as when the Lord punished Israel for David's census.
• The twin plagues of suicide and physician-assisted suicide indicates a widespread malaise which cannot be explained away with "mental illness."  
• And, not least but my final listing: Innumerable Marian apparitions around the world indicate something amiss. She first appeared to Elizabeth as a joyful sign of things to come, namely the births of John the Baptist and Jesus. 

Certainly we should interpret the present time as an opportunity -- perhaps the last opportunity -- to repent of our sins and turn to the Lord. That is the consistent message of every Marian apparition. Repentance will involve both the admission of guilt and serious attempts to right the wrongs. And there we find many people actively engaging in prayer and works of mercy. If churches are not full on Sunday, daily masses are well attended by older, retired people. 

We pray that God will stay his punishing hand, that he will see our civic engagement and works of mercy, and that we can continue to worship God in peace, all the days of our life.  

.

Thursday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 476

I have come to set the earth on fire,
and how I wish it were already blazing!
There is a baptism with which I must be baptized,
and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!
Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?
No, I tell you, but rather division.

With apparent anguish Jesus describes his eager, apocalyptic readiness for the Day of Judgment and God's kingdom. He has come for that purpose; and if it must cost his own life, if he like Abraham and Moses, will not see the day; if he must die to bring on that final and definitive intervention of God: so be it! 

I'm sure there are many Americans today, with less than two weeks until the federal and state elections, who understand the Lord's eager readiness. Whatever happens, let's get on with it! 

The genius of our democratic system is that we stage a popular examination with a possible overhaul of our legislators every two and four years. It's better than revolution every century, like the systems of monarchy and tyranny which had prevailed in Europe for many centuries. If elections are complicated and tiresome, revolutions with their violence and destruction are far worse. 

The American system has worked so well that many suppose it's natural and inevitable; as if our laws are just as sure as the laws of physics and chemistry. They think their interest and engagement in the processes of self-government don't matter since what's going to happen will happen anyway. Isn't democracy like gravity? 

No. But when democracy fails, gravity tears down every structure that rests upon mutual agreement. 

When Jesus told his disciples about the ordeal he would face in Jerusalem, they resisted hearing it. When he explained what his death and resurrection mean to them personally -- that the greatest should be the least, and that leaders should serve and not be served -- they could not imagine it. It was completely beyond their ken. 

But when he spoke of division and fire on the earth, they understood that. The world is full of exciting stories of burning, razing, killing, revolutions, and war. They're everyday events even when they are mostly very far away. They may be unpleasant but at least they're normal. 

There is nothing normal about leaders who aspire to serve, and people who want to be the servants of everyone else. There is nothing normal about millions of people performing their duties for the common good. They're usually preoccupied with their own interests, and suspicious of anything and anyone who might interfere. 

Jesus spoke apocalyptically of division and fire. He expressed a deep anxiety and a desire to be rid of it. Many people share that anxiety but are less eager for the sacrifice that he so willingly made. Some have lost faith in sacrifice as a form of prayer, and are frankly reluctant to pray. 

During these last two weeks, as many vote by mail or ahead of schedule, we pray that November 5, 2024 will be peaceful, and that its outcomes -- which will be mixed, confusing, contested, and eventually settled -- will also be accepted peacefully. 

Those who don't have time to vote will have ample time and unlimited opportunity to regret their decision. 

Memorial of Saint John of Capistrano

 Lectionary: 475

When you read this
you can understand my insight into the mystery of Christ,
which was not made known to human beings in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy Apostles and prophets by the Spirit,
that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same Body,
and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the Gospel.

After the return of the Jewish exiles from Babylon, the Book of the Prophet Isaiah reflected a new, unexpected hospitality toward non-Jews. 

The foreigner joined to the LORD should not say,

“The LORD will surely exclude me from his people”;

...For my house shall be called

a house of prayer for all peoples. (Is 56:3,7)

In Jesus's day, some Jews actively proselytized gentile converts but they insisted that the men be circumcised and that they observe all the traditions of the Pharisees, as Jesus said, 

'“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You traverse sea and land to make one convert, and when that happens you make him a child of Gehenna twice as much as yourselves. (Mt 23:15)

Perhaps the disciples of Jesus should not have been so surprised that many gentiles eagerly listened to their preaching. They were mostly untrained orators, but their stories, conviction, and enthusiasm fascinated even well-educated strangers, not to mention the cures that accompanied their preaching! Historians can speculate about what drew the gentiles to this new sect of Judaism with its outlandish announcement that a man had been raised from the dead, but the impulse was clearly from God. People found hope and relief, freedom and joy in being baptized and in the breaking of the bread. 

Despite the prophecy of Isaiah, this development was so unexpected that Saint Paul could say, it "was not made known to human beings in other generations." 

The word adopted is often heard in our New Testament readings and our Catholic liturgy. It recalls that astonishment and reminds us that, although we are not genealogically children of Abraham, we have been permitted to share their faith through our baptism into Jesus. The Holy Spirit has revealed this mystery to us and drawn us to the Lord. 

The mystery is, of course, manifold. It includes the revelation that we are created out of nothing in the image and likeness of God. It convicts us of sin -- especially those who are unaware of any guilt -- and announces the way of salvation. It draws us together into the Body of Christ, sends us to the far corners of the earth to invite everyone into it, and describes in ineffable signs and words our destiny within the Holy Trinity. 

A divine curiosity impels us to a continual contemplative awareness of this mystery, and opens our hearts to delight in the company of fellow Christians. We may be exhausted by the drive to know more, but we are never finished. 

Optional Memorial of Saint John Paul II, Pope

 Lectionary: 474

For he is our peace, he made both one
and broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his Flesh,
abolishing the law with its commandments and legal claims,
that he might create in himself one new person in place of the two,
thus establishing peace,
and might reconcile both with God,
in one Body, through the cross,

For several years, as a pastor in Jennings, Louisiana I visited the city and parish jails. The inmates invariably welcomed me, complaining only when, for whatever reason, I could not visit. They proved to me the insight and wisdom of Paul's observation, the Lord has broken down the dividing wall of enmity that kept us apart.  

During these troubled times, many of our elected legislators in federal and state offices fear to visit one another. President Biden, attending the funeral of his friend John McCain, told how their partisan allies urged them not to visit, talk with, or be seen with one another. The very reason for living in Washington DC had been obviated by an irrational partisanship which forbade conversation, the sharing of ideas, and compromise; much less agreement and concord. 

It is certainly easy to object to Saint Paul's teaching by saying "they" won't agree to meet "us" halfway. But that supposes peace is some kind of external event when, in fact, we must find it within our own hearts and within the presence of the Lord. The "dividing wall" is in my own heart, that place where my will governs and breeds suspicion, fear, resentment, and hostility. In that unfortunate place, I make war on my own need for reassurance, companionship, and love. If I admit that I want these gifts, I tell myself I am justified in my unhappiness by the righteousness of my cause. It's all nonsense, of course. 

By our Eucharist -- that is, by our Communion -- the Lord creates in himself one new person in place of the two. As we eat his flesh, drink his blood, and imbibe his spirit, a new, unexpected but most welcome, person appears. This new one recognizes and honors the fear but is not controlled by it; it remembers the hurt of betrayal but the sting is gone. It's just not that important anymore. 

I am sure there are many who, with me, remember the setbacks we suffered under the leadership of Pope Saint John Paul II. We had expected progress and had strong opinions about the course that progress would take. At some point, during his pontificate, I realized "my future is past. The opportunity evaporated, and will never return." Future developments which seemed certain in the 1960's disappeared in the 1990's. The real world, stripped of illusory promises, seems unfamiliar. 

I know some of my colleagues still hold on to them. Others complain that the sainted pope's "conservative" vision was frustrated; and they live in dread of Pope Francis's leadership. Both parties cling to a romantic illusion, like the love stories that always end in death. Perhaps they do not notice the new growth and vitality that is happening in the Church in Africa, South America, or Asia. 

The old self must be nailed to the cross and left there to die. It may take time. But the promise of redemption remains where the expectations disappeared. 

Monday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 473

But God, who is rich in mercy,
because of the great love he had for us,
even when we were dead in our transgressions,
brought us to life with Christ.

We should often remember that we were, as Saint Paul says, dead in our transgressions and sins, in which we once lived following the age of this world.

Not everything about this world is dead-on evil but we must practice a certain chariness about its many impulses, announcements, and pronouncements. It never hurts to ask, "Who is telling me this?" and "Why?" I suspect anything that's pushed as new and exciting. I've had enough of both already, thanks.

And given the hegemony of ideologies, with accusations and counter-accusations on all sides, I find it helpful to turn off the noise and walk away from the circus. 

The AP News recently published a response to Pope Francis: 

“UC Louvain expresses its incomprehension and disapproval of the position expressed by Pope Francis regarding the role of women in the church and society,” the statement said, calling the pope’s views “deterministic and reductive.” 

But the statement came out within minutes of Francis's remarks. It smells like ideology to me. And so I'll be accused of another ideology; that is, patriarchism. But wait! Tell me about that word.

Googles says, 

"The earliest known use of the word "patriarchy" was in 1561 in a translation by Thomas Norton. The word comes from both Latin and Greek, with the Latin word being patriarchia and the Greek word being πατριαρχία. However, the concept of patriarchy has been around for much longer." [underlining mine.]

So people were thinking a concept but didn't know the concept because the word for this concept didn't yet exist. Have I got that right? I guess, before 1561, they just called it sin. Or perhaps they thought it was okay. 

I notice the new emergence of trans vs. cis. (It's short for cisgender and was invented in 1994.) And so I was always a cis and didn't even know it. Or a white guy, or an ugly American.

I am Catholic. (coined by Saint Ignatius in 107 AD.) I'll admit that. And a man, beautifully wonderfully made by God. And a sinner (ala Adam and Eve). 

And I have been sometimes dead in my transgressions and sins, following the age of this world; and the rulers of the power of the air -- think Rufus Murdoch -- and the spirit that is now at work in the disobedient. 

"...yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me." Galatians 2:20

And for the rest of this world's baloney? Thanks, but no thanks.

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 146

Can you drink the cup that I drink

or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?" 

They said to him, "We can." 

Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink, you will drink,

and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized;

but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give

but is for those for whom it has been prepared." 

The Evangelist Saint Mark uses heavy, and very intentional, irony with this story of two disciples asking the Lord if they might sit on his right and on his left when he comes into his glory. 

We hear that expression repeated twice in the Second Gospel to drive home the foolishness of their request. First, Jesus repeats their words, "...to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared." That seems to allow room for the gentlemen to hope they might yet be chosen. 

But, five chapters later, Saint Mark tells us, "With him they crucified two revolutionaries, one on his right and one on his left." 

Thinking to promote their personal careers in the Kingdom of God, the disciples have asked to share in the Lord's unspeakable suffering. Although he cannot bestow those honored places on Zebedee's sons, the Lord does promise them that their request will nonetheless be satisfied, 

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

The words are again cryptic, as we discover in the fourteenth chapter. As we go with him to the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before he died, and listen to his prayer, he will speak of the cup he must drink. 

Jesus advanced a little way from his disciples. His knees buckled in sheer human terror as, "...he fell to the ground and prayed that if it were possible the hour might pass by him; he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.”

The Lord had spoken only recently of a cup, when 

...he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, and they all drank from it. He said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many.

And then he added, "Amen, I say to you, I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” True to his word, when he was offered a cup of wine laced with myrrh, apparently to ease his suffering, he refused. 

We hear the insistent demand of Jesus at every mass, 

Take this, all of you, and drink from it; for this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. 

As we drink this cup, and eat his flesh, we remember that we too must carry our crosses and share his cup of suffering. 

Today’s gospel also remembers the Lord’s other question, “Can you be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?" 

They said to him, "We can." 

And Jesus promised them, “...and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized.

In Saint Luke’s gospel we hear Jesus cry out, “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing! There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!” 

I believe it was these words about his baptism, and his command to eat my body and drink my blood which weighed most heavily upon the Lord as he entered Gethsemane. He knew what was happening. But this was not by divine sonship. It was the knowledge of any one who can see what is happening without preferring what they want to see.

The Carmelite Theresa Benedicta of the Cross knew she would not long survive when she registered as a Jew in Nazi-occupied Belgium. Etty Hillesum, waiting with other Jews in an internment camp, knew there was no help coming from Britain or the United States. Father Maximilian Kolbe knew he would die when he volunteered to take another man’s place. The Spirit of Truth guided their thoughts, bypassing every temptation to expect or want something else. Jesus did not need to hear the shouts of the mob in the pitch darkness of Gethsemane to know they were coming for him.  

Once the Lord had said, "This is my body;""This is my blood;" and “Do this in memory of me!” there could be no turning back. As Saint Francis would say a thousand years later, “This is what I want with all my heart!”  But he still had time to collapse in utter terror, pray that this cup be taken from him, and receive reassurance. 

So what finally happened to the sons of Zebedee? Perhaps the Evangelist already knew how they died when he wrote this story of their foolish, impulsive, and prophetic petition. James was the first apostle to die, as Saint Luke tells us in his Acts of the Apostles. Herod the tetrarch had him arrested and beheaded. John also might have died already, although an ancient tradition says he was tested in many ways before he died of old age. 

However, despite the Lord’s cryptic prophecy about the violent death of James and John, his next words concern the crosses we must bear and the kind of death we must endure: 

"You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles

lord it over them,

and their great ones make their authority over them felt. 

But it shall not be so among you.

Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant;

whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. 

Everyone, sooner or later, takes their places at the right and left hands of Jesus as he dies on the cross. We suffer with Christ as we are baptized and join the Church. It’s a grave risk for it’s sometimes embarrassing, sometimes difficult, and sometimes downright painful to be Catholic. Many people swear they would never join an organized religion because it’s just too complicated, demanding, and sometimes impossible to stand by everything the Church says, and does and represents. But, as Catholics, we support one another through hard times and good times. We make sacrifices; we look for ways to put ourselves out for others; we work for the common good. 

Everyone of us knows that my life is not about me. For neither the Son of Man nor his disciples come to be served. We come to serve and to give our lives as a ransom for many.