Friday, May 13, 2022

Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 283

My brothers, children of the family of Abraham, and those others among you who are God-fearing, to us this word of salvation has been sent.


Today's first reading might be called "the Gospel according to Saint Paul." It is a brief summary of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Oddly -- and typically of the great apostle's writing and preaching -- he says nothing about other incidents in Jesus's life. He surely knew some of the parables and teachings; he must have learned of Jesus's origins in Galilee and his mother Mary and foster father Joseph. But he never mentions any of that in the writings that survive. He cites the Last Supper on only one occasion, when he writes to the Corinthians about "what I handed on to you." I should add that Paul would not have read these stories because the Gospels weren't written until very late in his career. 

Saint Paul's doctrine is entirely focused on the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. The Lord's credentials were not proven by his traditional teachings and challenging parables; they relied on his execution as a criminal and its aftermath. 

In the wake of our discovery of the long term effects of trauma (PTSD) I find it astonishing that the first Christian missionaries spoke so consistently and insistently about Jesus's crucifixion. It is perhaps equally amazing that the Catholic church still presents a crucifix front and center in every sanctuary. If you don't know of his crucifixion, you don't know Jesus. 

And yet many Christians, especially in the first days of the American experiment, regarded Jesus as a good teacher. They ignored his prophetic challenge and dismissed his miracle stories, including the resurrection. Some encouraged religion in the new republic and frequented the churches on Sunday but their form of Christianity was more civilized, predictable, and pleasant, without all the messy brutality and disturbing horror. Although the new American government didn't support any particular religion, it liked the idea. Many Americans still claim a deism stripped of doctrines like the saving death of Jesus, the Eucharist, and the  Trinity

Saint Paul would hear none of that. When you entered his church, you were immediately accosted with the cross of Jesus Christ. But remember that, in his day, every citizen of every major city in the Roman empire was entirely too familiar with crucifixion. The occupying armies and appointed procurators used the public and prolonged spectacle of dying criminals to remind everyone of where authority lay. Resistance is futile. It's better if you get along by getting along. Don't rock the boat. 

During our troubled times when many cities and nations suffer polarized politics, civil disturbance, and the ominous threat of nuclear war, our Catholic religion presents a crucifix to its faithful. Seeing it, we might ask ourselves, "Well, what did I expect?" 

It should be a question without judgement. Did I expect an easy, uninterrupted life of increasing prosperity and growing contentment? Did I expect that everyone was happy with their lot, regardless of the increasing chasm of poverty? Did I suppose my bubble was secure even as the lives of many were shattered by climate change and social upheaval? 

How realistic were my expectations? How deeply did I feel entitled to my security on this dynamic planet? 

If I did expect these things, I can bury those false promises and receive the reassurances of our faith. The Risen Lord is with us. This man has suffered unspeakable violence and yet delighted in his human nature and his belonging to every human being. Despite everything he suffered at the hands of others, he has no resentment toward his family, disciples, neighbors, or enemies. He forgets nothing and forgives everything. 

He is ready to embrace everyone who acknowledges their part in his suffering and death. No one is innocent of that violence; we have all contributed by our sins of commission and omission. 

If he knew them, Saint Paul found no need to dwell upon other stories of Jesus of Nazareth. He knew his own sins against the Lord; he had heard the Voice, "Why do you persecute me?" And he knew the mercy that came in that very instant when he fell to the ground and asked, "Who are you, Sir?" 

As we own and confess our sins, we know God's mercy. And then we are fully prepared to welcome the challenges of our time. 

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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.