Monday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time

Pope Saint Callistus
Founder and patron of Catholic Cemeteries

 Lectionary: 467

These women represent two covenants.
One was from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery;
this is Hagar.
But the Jerusalem above is freeborn, and she is our mother.
For it is written:
Rejoice, you barren one who bore no children;
break forth and shout, you who were not in labor....

With his personal experience of freedom, Saint Paul struggled mightily to convince his fellow Jews and those gentiles who had come to Jesus that this way of life is free, whereas that of the Pharisaic Jews is not. The gospels describe the same struggle, though with different language and few references to "freedom," between Jesus and his opponents. 

Many observers have pointed out that the Pharisees were not universally bad people. Ideologues use childish language to describe their opponents as "bad" and "evil people." We are certainly seeing plenty of that today in the United States.  

The Pharisees had to contend with the iron fist of Rome which did not hesitate to ruthlessly destroy opposition. Given the fractious nature of all conversation at the time, they feared that Jesus with his hordes of disciples and his apocalyptic talk could only invite Roman discipline. While Herodians collaborated with Rome, the Pharisees kept a low profile, practicing their religion at home and arguing with one another in the synagogues. 

They offered the assurances of security. "So long as we don't make trouble, and pay our taxes to Caesar, Rome doesn't care what God we worship or how we go about doing it." Most Irish Catholic priests offered the same security to their flocks during centuries of  British occupation. The spiritual cost of that security -- emigration, alcoholism, and the cruelty of priests and religious communities -- has only been revealed since the British left. 

Saint Paul's Gospel offered both security and freedom. Although it meant ostracism from one's Jewish friends and family, and expulsion from Jewish synagogues, along with the suspicion -- sometimes violent -- of Rome, his freedom was contagious and joyful. His disciples were free not only from fear, but also from regret, resentment, and possessiveness. Because they freely acknowledged their sins, they could speak honestly and modestly with one another without boasting, and praise God without fear, remorse, or hidden guilt. They had utter confidence in the God who would not spare his own son to save them from their sins. 

What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?

He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?

Who will bring a charge against God’s chosen ones? It is God who acquits us.

Who will condemn? It is Christ [Jesus] who died, rather, was raised, who also is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.

What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?

To this day we struggle to claim this freedom for ourselves and our children. How do we raise the next generation with the convictions and discipline that God's freedom demands? It's especially difficult in a culture which believes discipline, commitments, and convictions are the opposite of freedom. Their freedom is unlimited power and unchallenged authority to do as one pleases, with accountability to no one. 

Our freedom comes as we accept God's mercy and acknowledge our sins transparently and vulnerably, with neither shame nor remorse. With this freedom we can also welcome those fellow sinners whom the world despises. 

Our freedom requires intense, lifelong dedication. If we are frightened and uncertain at times, we cannot turn back. As Saint Peter said, "Where could we go? You have the words of eternal life!"