…And Jesus Wept

As I read the Gospel for this upcoming Sunday, I thought about a friend who died a few years ago. We were out of the country and with limited internet or phone access. I awoke on Christmas Eve morning before dawn and as luck would have it, managed to get into my emails. My eyes went immediately to a forwarded message announcing the death of my friend. I sat motionless for a while in disbelief; then tears eventually became sobs as I felt the pain of loss. Then I thought about his young widow and children and felt their pain as I wondered how they were going to manage. I thought of my friends and considered their pain and felt completely helpless because I was so far away and I needed to be near them, not that my presence would have changed anything, but just being together and sharing our loss would at the very least, find comfort.

I suppose something about the account of Lazarus that I read (John 11: 1-45) prompted me to relive this friend’s passing this morning. Is there any story as well-known as that of Lazarus? His very name has become a well-known metaphor for revival and resurrection beyond the realm of religion.

So why did I make the connection to the Lazarus story and the death of my friend? When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Sir, come and see.” And Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him.”  

This Gospel speaks to us about many things but perhaps to me at least, at this time, I relate to the deep compassion Jesus had for Mary and Martha. The context of the word “compassion” as Jesus intended, I believe goes far beyond just “empathy.” It is virtually feeling the pain as if it was yours. Is there anything more human than the desire to want to help a loved one who is suffering? And while we wish we could take the pain from them and make it “all go away,” we cannot. Jesus in all his humanity wept. But Jesus in all his divinity was able to “make it better” and raise Lazarus from the dead. 

So, what about why we feel as deeply as we do for another’s joy and pain. Father Ronald Haney writes in the God Within You that “the God of mystical unity and pervasive harmony, dwelling within each of you will intensify your love for each other, will raise your love to a level above mere human affection; it will make your love sacred, creative and curative. The love between you is God and this is the atmosphere of your relating to one another.” He goes on to say that if the love between you and others is God may sound too profound, it’s the essence of what Jesus meant when he said Love one another as I have loved you.” Jesus was not just mincing words here.  

Haney suggests that the mystery of the Divine Indwelling may be best expressed by the Pauline insight rooted in Jesus’ prayer, “just as you Father, live in me and I live in you, I am asking that they may live in us, that they may be one as we are one.” God Within You p 164

He was Lost and has been Found

The Prodigal Son, is among the most recognized parables in the New Testament, (Luke 15:11-32). While there are several important themes for us to consider in the reading, perhaps the most prevalent focuses on the father and the so-called “faithful son.” Paradoxically, the prodigal son is a secondary character in the story with regard to Jesus’ purpose in its telling.

The father characterized in the story represents an individual whose unconditional love seems to exceed the “normal” bounds of human understanding. It’s hard to imagine a typical father or human being for that matter, who is capable of acting with such selfless compassion and understanding.

On the other hand, the reaction and behavior of the elder brother, who remains behind and steadfastly adheres to his father’s will in performing his day to day chores, seems all too human in his reaction to the father’s behavior on the return of the wayward son. He finds that he cannot or is unwilling to rejoice in the return of his delinquent brother.

 In this story Jesus reveals that the love of God surpasses all understanding and exists in a dimension beyond anything known to man. That love is evidenced in the scene in which the father rushes out to greet the Prodigal without inquiry into his derelict behavior or his intention to repentant. The father merely rejoices in his return and orders or a celebration in honor of his homecoming.

But the elder son, who professes to be more worthy of the father’s love is angry and resentful. After all wasn’t he more the faithful and dutiful son who quietly without fanfare went about his father’s business?

So, to whom do we relate…the father; the elder son, or the Prodigal? What about the reaction of the community to the father’s behavior?

“Almost all religion and cultures that I know of have believed that sin and evil are to be punished and that retribution is to be demanded of the sinner in this world—and usually the next world, too. Such retributive justice is a dualistic system of reward and punishment, good guys and bad guys, and makes perfect sense to the ego…Mere counting and ledger-keeping is not the way of the Gospel. Our best self wants to restore relationships, and not just blame or punish. The trouble is that we have defined God as ‘punisher in chief’ instead of Healer, Forgiver, and Reconciler and so the retribution model was legitimized down through the ages…

On the other hand, the aim of restorative justice is to return the person to a useful position in the community. Thus, there can be healing on both sides. Such justice is a mystery that only makes sense to the soul…and yet the term restorative justice only entered our vocabulary in the last few decades. How can we deny that there is an evolution of consciousness, even consciousness of where the Gospel is leading us?” (Richard Rohr, Restorative Justice, Center for Action and Contemplation. 6/12/18)

 

 

The Prodigal Son, is among the most recognized parables in the New Testament, (Luke 15:13,11-32). While there are several important themes for us to consider in the reading, perhaps the most prevalent focuses on the father and the so-called “faithful son.” Paradoxically, the prodigal son is a secondary character in the story with regard to Jesus’ purpose in its telling.

The father characterized in the story represents an individual whose unconditional love seems to exceed the “normal” bounds of human understanding. It’s hard to imagine a typical father or human being for that matter, who is capable of acting with such selfless compassion and understanding.

On the other hand, the reaction and behavior of the elder brother, who remains behind and steadfastly adheres to his father’s will in performing his day to day chores, seems all too human in his reaction to the father’s behavior on the return of the wayward son. He finds that he cannot or is unwilling to rejoice in the return of his delinquent brother.

In this story Jesus reveals that the love of God surpasses all understanding and exists in a dimension beyond anything known to man. That love is evidenced in the scene in which the father rushes out to greet the Prodigal without inquiry into his derelict behavior or his intention to repentant. The father merely rejoices in his return and orders or a celebration in honor of his homecoming.

But the elder son, who professes to be more worthy of the father’s love is angry and resentful. After all wasn’t he more the faithful and dutiful son who quietly without fanfare went about his father’s business?

So, to whom do we relate…the father; the elder son, or the Prodigal? What about the reaction of the community to the father’s behavior?

“Almost all religion and cultures that I know of have believed that sin and evil are to be punished and that retribution is to be demanded of the sinner in this world—and usually the next world, too. Such retributive justice is a dualistic system of reward and punishment, good guys and bad guys, and makes perfect sense to the ego…Mere counting and ledger-keeping is not the way of the Gospel. Our best self wants to restore relationships, and not just blame or punish. The trouble is that we have defined God as ‘punisher in chief’ instead of Healer, Forgiver, and Reconciler and so the retribution model was legitimized down through the ages…

On the other hand, the aim of restorative justice is to return the person to a useful position in the community. Thus, there can be healing on both sides. Such justice is a mystery that only makes sense to the soul…and yet the term restorative justice only entered our vocabulary in the last few decades. How can we deny that there is an evolution of consciousness, even consciousness of where the Gospel is leading us?” (Richard Rohr, Restorative Justice, Center for Action and Contemplation. 6/12/18)

Come and See

 

 

The character to whom we are introduced in this week's text is a Samaritan woman (John 4: 5-42), a religious and political outsider, despised by the Judeans in Jesus’ time. The split between Samaritan Israelites and Judean-led Israelites still exists to this day. Samaritans had descended from tribes primarily residing in what today is Iraq and were not considered Jews in the pure sense by Judeans of Israel.

The Samaritan woman meets Jesus at the well at noon. As if their encounter was not strange enough, the Samaritan moves outside of her religious experiences and engages Jesus in an in-depth dialogue and has no trouble reminding him of what separates them -- he a Jew and she a Samaritan -- and of what connects them -- their ancestor, Jacob, at whose well they are meeting. 

Somewhat out of character, Jesus tells the woman at the well who he is as he reveals to her his “name,” I am he… How is it that this woman who meets Jesus briefly, dares to “wonder out loud” if he is the Messiah, while the apostles, still not quite convinced, continue to safely address him as teacher, “rabbi?”

This story underscores Jesus’ love for what society characterizes outsiders. The Samaritan woman at the well immediately recognizes the societal barriers and boundaries that keep her in her place but yet she is willing to challenge Jesus' authority over their ancestors of the faith. She is not certain that Jesus is the Christ but she does not let that stop her from leaving behind her water jar, going into the city, and inviting the people to their meet Jesus: "Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?" They left the city and were on their way to him.”

The woman at the well shows us that faith is about an ongoing dialogue; about growth and change. It is not about having all the answers. If we think we have all the answers, if we are content with our faith just the way it is and are comfortable with our tried and true convictions, we may miss the opportunity to grow and be transformed and will lack the confidence to be able to ask others to "come and see."

Another issue, perhaps for another discussion and another time, has to do with organized religions’ pronouncements on women and sexuality. At no time does Jesus condemn or judge her as society and organized religions have. Where did these rules come from? Shouldn’t we finally rise above phony moralism and misplaced misogyny that has characterized so much of Judeo-Christian theology? This is really a story about the transforming power of love and not about a story about a woman who like us, is no less human. After all, Jesus received the Cup from this “scandalous” woman, and she shares it with us in her joy at being loved.

...Listen to Him

Do you remember when you first felt an undeniable prompt breaking through conscious thought that called you to pursue a goal or an activity? Something out of the blue. I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to God's voice. While talk of "a calling" is common among clergy, we don’t necessarily consider that we’re called to a career or vocation or volunteering. But, why not? I raise this question because I think that this is part of the Transfiguration story (Luke 9:28B-36) that gets overlooked.  Let’s face it, we understandably focus on Jesus’ transformation, what with the blazing face, and dazzling white clothes and all. But I think that Peter gets transfigured as well, or at least the event may signal the beginning of Peter's transformation.

The scene moves very quickly. Here’s Peter falling all over himself looking for something to do when a voice from heaven literally interrupts him, and in essence says, "Would you please shut up already, and just listen to him!" In fairness to Peter, the whole wxperience is kind of terrifying as he falls to the ground, likely covering his ears and shielding his eyes. And then it's over -- the voice, the light, the heroes of the past -- nothing is left except Jesus, who reaches out to him, James and John, and calms their fears, and asks them to get up.


In that moment everything for Peter, I suspect, was still...and clear...and made sense. But we know it didn't last very long. On the way down the mountain Jesus once again had to remind Peter of his impending death and destiny and while Peter struggles to listen, to follow, and to be faithful, he will fail. My guess is that each time Peter “fell down,” he would look back on this day and recall those words, "Just listen to him!"


Perhaps Peter's transfiguration begins when he repeatedly fails, falls, and is lifted up again and realizes that above and beyond everything else, he is called to listen to Jesus. Isn’t this the pattern that shapes the lives of every Christian? We too try our best and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. We, too, have moments of insight and moments of denial. We, too, fall down in fear and are raised up again to go forth in confidence. We are called to listen, to discern God's will and in this way be transformed. Don’t we identify with Peter? Don’t we see ourselves in this story? This story is as much about Peter and Jesus as it is about us. We, too, have been called both to "listen to him" and to "be lifted up"?  We too, are called, but I wonder if we sometimes even recognize his voice.


Our transformation is what I think we've been working on these past few weeks: we are being called to be salt to the earth, light to the world, disciples of Jesus and to be the people of God.

“There have been quite a few times when I have felt the winds of God’s grace in the sails of my small boat. Sometimes these graces have moved me in pleasant and sunlit directions. At other times the requested acts of love were born in the darkness of struggle and suffering. There have been spring times and there have been long cold winters of struggle for survival. God has come to me at times with the purest kindness, at times with the most affirming encouragement, and at other times with bold frightening challenges. I think that all of us have to watch and pray, to be ready to say “yes” when God’s language is concrete and his request is specific-“yes” in the sunlit spring times and “yes’ in the darkness of winter nights.” (John Powell, S.J., The Christian Vision, The Truth That Sets Us Free, p147)

Our Time in the Desert

There are questions we answer with our lips, and those we answer with our lives. Lent is an important part of our journey. Each step we take has been walked at one time in the gospels. We know that this our spiritual journey begins in the desert and leads us to the cross and to a tomb and “ends” with Easter, where our journey to God begins again. In our readings for this upcoming Sunday, Luke 4:1-13, the first Sunday in Lent, we are told that “Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.”  What do these temptations or tests mean to us in our lives today?

I have been fortunate to have travelled fairly extensively in my life, both for business and pleasure. Admittedly travelling is one of my passions, although in recent years I am more selective about my destination with regard to the risk to benefit associated with where and why I am travelling. Is the payoff worth the sacrifice?

Over the years I have observed that there are two types of journeymen. I would categorize these as being either tourists or travelers. The tourist travels through his journey in comfort, ensuring that his experiences are familiar and safe. He makes sure that he takes “his stuff” from back home with him. There are many vendors along the way who, for a price, would be willing to accommodate the tourist’s expectations and satisfy his needs, most of which are likely superficial and soon forgotten when he returns home armed with photos, souvenirs, and pleasant memories.

On the other hand, a traveler is one whose goal is to enjoy the journey as part of a total experience in which the destination is just a part of a continuum. He travels to open his mind and spirit up to new experiences and perhaps into the unknown in the hope that something new will learned and be revealed.

A few years ago, we decided to take a trip to Alaska; however our goal was to experience it as up close and personal as we could, requiring that we leave our “comfort zone” and all the attachments of our lives back home. In addition to there being no cell phones, internet or TV, our accommodations were less than Spartan. While this was a far cry from the way we tend to travel, this was one of the most enjoyable trips I’ve ever taken. We were living as being absorbed by the journey… in the journey, completely focused on the experience and unencumbered by distractions.

Jesus’ time in the desert somehow relate to our journey as a traveler leaving our comfort zone and sharing the food we have, instead of waiting for stones to be turned into bread. If our quest is to meet God where he is, we may have to find Him in strange places, among strange people. As an act of faith, like Jesus, we place ourselves in God’s hands and surrender to his will by the power of the Holy Spirit.