Wednesday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 505

They will seize and persecute you,
they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons,
and they will have you led before kings and governors
because of my name.
It will lead to your giving testimony.

 A World War II Veteran readily told me of the long hours he lay wounded on the banks of the Rhine River, hoping and praying for rescue. Unable to move, he could only watch the battle roaring over his head and hope that the Germans would abandon their positions while the Americans advanced. The Rhine marked the boundary of Germany itself; they would not surrender easily. To the Allied forces, crossing the Rhine was another water to land invasion, and they had already brought massive armies ashore in North Africa, Sicily, Anzio, and France. 

The Veteran said his wife and sister would not listen to his "old war stories," and he appreciated my earnest curiosity. To me, it was a story of God's mercy as he survived, recuperated, and came home to marry, have children, and participate in the American Century. 

Everyone has stories -- innumerable stories -- to tell. But there are two kinds of people, those who tell stories and those who listen to them. The story tellers rarely hear any one else's story; and the story tellers rarely tell their own. And some stories, like war stories and stories of terror, horror, and survival are not easily told. It takes courage to speak of them, and a generous curiosity to hear them. 

Christians face an additional challenge when we speak of our ordeals, survival, and triumph for the concern the hand of God and the wonders he has wrought. They concern mercy, justice, and their mutual victory. 

But, laced into the narrative is an implicit understanding that the listeners' lives might be changed by the story, They are not irrelevant incidents from the past with no bearing on the present or future. They are not idle curios like those we find among the belongings of deceased loved ones. We know why this story is important; it speaks of God. 

Today's first reading celebrates the "the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb." It is sung by "those who had won the victory over the beast and its image and the number that signified its name." The song is an anthem like La Marseillaise, O Canada, Lift Every Voice and Sing, or The Star Spangled Banner. If the words do not describe one's particular story, they carry nonetheless its import; and they're sung with intense feeling for "this song means everything to me." 

I met a South African fellow who wondered why Americans get so emotional about the flag and our national anthem. It was a passing conversation and I had no time to inform him of the American Revolution, the Civil War, the Great Depression, and two World Wars. 

Catholic anthems include Holy God, We Praise Thy Name and Immaculate Mary. They are more than songs, they are who we are; and you don't know who we are unless you can sing them with us. They are communion with our heart. 

The heavenly song of Revelations 15 recalls the history of God's people from Moses and the Hebrews in the Sinai peninsula through the persecutions Christians suffered. It reminds us that the persecution of God's people did not begin with the Crucifixion and Christian history. The LORD had rescued his people from Egyptian slavery long before Christians faced Roman beheading, flogging, and savage lions. 

As we tell our own stories of suffering, survival, and deliverance through the sacrifice of Jesus, we know they fit into the vast mosaic of Salvation History. It's a very long story by human calculation, but it is very rich and beautiful. And, as we tell our stories, sing them, and hear them again, we believe the Father of Jesus finds them a worthy tribute to his Infinite Goodness.