Be it Done Unto Me According to Your Will

 

The Gospel celebrate those events in the life of Christ that serve as models for us to follow and live. Over time many of our original interpretations that we were taught to believe were eventually dismissed, leaving a void for which literal meanings no longer exist. Over time our faith flourished as knowing filled that void and intuitive knowing took root, and new insights emerged that were clearer, simpler, and more beautiful. I’ve come to realize that if I understand something and feel that I can explain it clearly, it’s not a mystery. Yet, I have this undeniable egotistical urge to do my best to try to explain things that defy explanation. 

Somehow, the mistrust of all that has been handed down to us, has led to a failure of the imagination, evidenced by language that’s childishly comfortable and unchallenging. Our prayers become a self- indulgent praise of ourselves as we purported to “confess” our weaknesses. These prayers are anything but the lifting of our hearts and minds to God. There’s no attempt to listen and stop talking.

Gerald May writes in The Dark Night of the Soul that “It is the same for all important things in life; there is a mystery within them that our definitions and understandings cannot grasp. Definitions and teaching are images and concepts created by our brains to symbolize what is real. Our thoughts about something are never the thing itself. Further, when we think logically about something, our thoughts come sequentially – one after another. Reality is not confined to such linearity; it keeps happening all at once in each instant. The best our thoughts can do is try to keep a little running commentary in rapid, breathless sequence.”

 And so now in this last week of Advent, on Christmas Eve, we focus on the Annunciation (Luke 1:26-38), a mystery of epic proportions that defies rational explanation. It stuns us to hear some attempt to reduce the virgin birth to a mere story of an unwed pregnant teenager. Have we come to a time when anything that did not stand up to reason or that we couldn’t explain, should be characterized as primitive and infantile? Why do we think that an almighty spiritual being is confined to man’s intellect and his feeble language to communicate? Do we not see how metaphor and poetry reveal meaning, not explanation, on a deep personal level?  

A few years ago we had an opportunity to travel through Eastern Europe, making our way from the Black Sea to Amsterdam. I was taken aback by the devastation in human lives caused by the failure of the “great social experiment,” that created societies whose wealth was shared but only among those at the top. So great buildings were erected for the personal aggrandizement of the elite while sacrificing the welfare of the people who were desperate for food and who desired a modicum of personal enrichment. On the other hand, I was impressed with the number of churches and cathedrals that were reopened after decades of being forced to close. These were flourishing, but more in support of tourism than worship. Yet, as their spires are raised to the heavens so are our spirits for whatever their intended origins, they pay homage to Almighty  God.

Looking at the beautiful classical paintings and art in these churches made me wonder what it was that inspired the artists to create poetic images and visual metaphors depicting the “mysteries” of Christianity. It occurred to me that their art was conveyed in a language all its own and derived its source from inspiration and not the intellect, and while the cynic might deride the image of the Angel Gabriel appearing to Mary, the artist understood it completely.

Art and music are languages of the soul that bypass our literal sense of sight and understanding and speak to us at a level we cannot explain or know but do we really need explanation for something we feel down deep? 
When we allow God’s love to break through our consciousness as we contemplate the Mysteries of the Annunciation and Virgin birth, do we run from it? Do we ask it to explain what it cannot? Or are we “virgin” enough to surrender to our deepest self and allow it to fill our being? We cannot ask it to explain what it cannot.

Christ The King

 

Although Jesus' time on earth was short, he created quite a stir during his even briefer earthly ministry (Luke 23:33-43). As a revolutionary he upset Jewish law, tradition and the Roman hierarchy. He consorted with the disenfranchised, despised members of society and violated conventional tradition. He upset the “purity code” by proclaiming that it wasn’t what went into your mouth that mattered but what came out. He performed many miracles that included healing the sick and bringing the dead back to life. Yet he was "unable" to save himself and was executed with 2 petty criminals. And to compound the indignity, the soldiers knelt at his feet, not to worship, but to gamble for his clothes, while deriding his reign as “king of the Jews.” It amused them because they were Romans and they knew what a "real king" looked like, and this definitely was not it. A real king was arrogant not submissive and had power. So they mocked him.  

Yet, we wonder why one of the two thieves also being executed alongside Jesus, reprimands the other for scorning Jesus  and and takes pity on Him and  asks Jesus to "remember me when you come into His kingdom.”   What prompted this dying man to know that Jesus was the Messiah and  somehow,  knew that Jesus' death went beyond mortal understanding. 

We celebrate Christ the King, not because of Jesus' regal bearing, but because of his humanity; not because of his power, but because of his compassion, and because of his triumph over death. 

And what about the kingdom of God?  Richard Rohr writes that “if we go to the depths of anything, we will begin to knock upon something substantial, ‘real’ and with a timeless quality to it. We will move from the 'starter kit of belief to an actual inner knowing.' This is most especially true if we have ever loved deeply; accompanied someone through the mystery of dying, or stood in genuine life changing awe before mystery time or beauty. This ‘something real’ is what all the worlds’ religions were pointing to when they spoke of heaven or the kingdom of God. They were not wrong at all; their only mistake was that they pushed it off into the next world. If God’s Kingdom is later, it is because it is first of all now…In other words, heaven/ union/ love now emerge from within us much more than from a mere belief system and  as Jesus promises the Samaritan woman, 'the spring within her will well up into eternal life. (John 4:14)'"

 

"Come Share Your Master's Joy"

How many of us grew up thinking of God as one whose “performance standards” were rigid and unbending? Weren’t many of us taught to believe that this God requires us to work at and earn our salvation, and that it was up to us as to whether we enter the Kingdom? Yet, we are told that we are loved and there is nothing we can do to lose God’s love. And we don’t earn salvation; the Kingdom is ours just because we are children of God. 

Which is it? While it’s not my place to say that we have no “skin in the game,” and can’t do anything to earn it, I do believe we are “required” to live a God centered life as Jesus did…even if the Kingdom is our “entitlement.” And yet the word entitlement rubs me the wrong way. I’m not sure why. I wonder what this says about my faith?  It just seems to me that somehow, in someway we play a role in our own eternal destiny as we are invited to  "Come Share Your Master's Joy"

It gets confusing doesn’t it? On the one hand Jesus tells us to"Come Share Your Master's Joy"and the Kingdom of God is at hand, yet at the same time there are certain standards expected of us.  Last week’s parables of the “foolish virgins” (Matthew 25:1-13) had more to say about being prepared than reward and punishment. It called for us to lead a God-centered life embodied in the Two Great Commandments and the Spirit of the Beatitudes. As such we are required to take personal responsibility in living our Christian faith.  

Life, love and faith, like investments require taking risks in order to increase. And risks require relationships and true relationships require that we have the courage to be open, to be vulnerable, to let go of pretense and give our egos a rest. We must take risks and be willing to invest our lives in one another. Life in Jesus is all about relationships. 

When we put our talents to work in the service of God, we take risks (Matthew 25:14-30). When we are willing to be imperfect and reveal our humanity we are capable of being open to one another and we see ourselves in the other. Many who have participated in the Twelve Step program will tell you that its success depends on one’s ability to mirror one another: “The pain in me recognizes the pain in you; the love in me recognizes the love in you; the God in me loves the God in you.” This is risky business and taking risks is not easy; its consequences can cause anxiety. When we invest ourselves in one another, the outcome cannot be guaranteed. But, so what…we have a “safety net.” Matthew says those who were given much went to others for help in increasing it. That can do spirit grows everything it touches.

 

About That Day or Hour No One Knows

 

Keep Awake for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. These words have been repeated for over 2,000 years, yet somehow we still fear the end of our life on earth. Sure, we are comforted by the many parallels in nature that reveal death to be a precursor to new life, but the fear of death lingers in the shadows. We have - or likely have - lived longer than our parents and grandparents. We are better fed; we lose few babies, and modern medicine protects us from contagion and diseases that can shorten our lives... and yet, we are still afraid. Why?

Shortly after 9/11 the words “Fear Not” rang hollow and seemed a little out of place. Surely we had every reason to be afraid. After the three devastating attacks, the country held its breath wondering if there were there more to come. During the first few weeks following the attacks, the country was suspended in a state of watchful waiting. We were led to believe that it wasn’t a question of “if” but “when.” We carefully listened to those in authority speak of preparedness, but the summary statement always was, “we just don’t know.” It took a while but in time we began to live our lives with the knowledge that life must go on… but we were implored to remain vigilant and the words “If you see something, say something” became a national mantra.

It doesn’t take much to see the connection between our gospel Matthew 25:1-13 and the story of the so called "Foolish Virgins" with that fateful Tuesday, 9/11/01 that I remember began with skies so blue and air so clean. I'm sure the excited ladies in waiting anticipating the arrival of the groom and the week-long celebration were in a "party state o mind." What could possibly have gone wrong on such a beautiful day? How could they or we have been prepared for what happened? 

Had we ever sustained an enemy attack within our Continental borders during war time, much less peace? How do we begin to replace fear with living fully and, please God, joyfully?

We are taught that Christ's death and resurrection are the answer to our mortal fears. He relinquished his humanity as the divine Incarnation was finally complete so that we could share in his resurrection and in so doing, removed our reasons to fear death forever. Knowing that God loves us and that there is nothing we can do to ever lose His love is a matter of faith, not intellect. So, we live out our lives enriched by Christ’s example when we resist the impulse to live for ourselves instead of for others. It means being prepared to die again and again to ourselves, and to every one of our self-serving opinions and agendas. But about that day or hour no one knows. And death will have no dominion over us.

LIving he Beatitudes

 

 

We’re told that Martin Luther originally had a hard time trying to live up to the demands of the Old Testament—even literally beating himself at times. Finally, he discovered that salvation was realized by grace and faith alone.  Through the lens of that discovery, he began to view the New Testament as “gospel” and the demands of the Hebrew Bible as “law.”  For Luther, it was crucial that Jesus had come to set us free from the “law.”  And he “wrote” this perspective into his translation of the Bible by placing books he didn’t care for at the end.  But Luther wasn’t the first or the last to try to “edit” the Bible.  I think the real problem for us is that what Luther did on paper, we do in fact.  Don’t we simply edit those portions of the Bible from actual use?  I think this especially applies to “laws” with their unrealistic demands.  

Jesus opens the “Sermon on the Mount” with the beatitudes, which while not really instructions for living, are a declaration of the grace that God is pouring out on all people through Jesus Christ. (Matthew5:1-12a) They are a declaration at the heart of Jesus’ message that the kingdom of God is at hand.  If you wonder what the kingdom of God is about, look at the beatitudes.  It means blessing, peace and comfort for those who have been trampled on in our world.  Right from the start of this “sermon,” Jesus makes an elaborate statement about the grace that God gives to all people who will open their hearts to it.  

While the Jewish religious leaders had sought to fulfill God’s demands by specifying the precise actions one could or could not do, Jesus called his disciples to obey God’s “commands” from the heart.  That would mean that while killing is an egregious offense, Understanding the root of and avoiding the anger and hatred that leads us to devalue the life of another, is the mark of a spiritual being. This mindful approach requires us to examine and know behavioral triggers that lead to uncontrolled anger and intercept them before they are acted out. This spiritual transformation leads to a proactive way of living the beatitudes.   

In reality, Jesus didn’t make it easier to obey God’s rules, he made it harder.  He went back to the original intention of the commands--to produce a people who would practice God’s justice, compassion, and mercy toward one another.  And they would do so not for fear of punishment or in order to gain some reward.  They would practice this kind of life because God’s grace had changed their hearts, and they could do no less. In other words, for Jesus, obeying God is not just a matter of what we do, it’s something that comes from the heart. And when we have that kind of relationship that comes from the heart, we can do no less than make every effort to practice the way of life defined in Scripture as “walking in God’s ways.” 

Adapted in part fromThe Waking Dreamer, Alan Brehm, “Light for the World,” February 12, 2014

What do You Think?

 

Jesus uses his parables to engage his audience by relating explicit scenarios that are relevant to its world. They are implicit invitations for them to see something “beneath the literal narrative.” Jesus would sometimes insert a clever device such as a visual element or use a provocative form of speech, which would prompt the imagination to know his meaning beyond any literal interpretation. And so it is in this week’s Gospel (Matthew 22:15-21). Jesus uses the Roman coin to illustrate and memorialize in the mind’s eye of the listener (and for us forever), the answer to his question, “what do you think?”

Over the centuries, this famous passage has framed societal attitudes toward the relationship between religion and government. There are those who believe that Jesus is establishing two separate realms, Caesar's and God's. This interpretation may strike many Americans as obviously correct, given our separation of church and state. Looking at this more closely, Jesus was less concerned with taxation or political authority. These existed in his world but were not of his world.

Let’s face it, we’re told that in the first century Jews paid many taxes:  customs taxes, and taxes on land and of course, tithes to the Temple. Yet, in this parable the question posed to Jesus was not about how many taxes they paid but rather whether it was lawful to pay taxes After all, taxes were paid to Caesar, who as the emperor of Rome and the son of Augustus, was deemed to be the “son of God.” As such, the Jews believed that even possessing the coin with the image of Caesar, was idolatry and in violation of the commandments. 

So back to the question put to Jesus in our Gospel. What do you think?  A “yes or no” answer either way would have gotten Jesus in trouble. "Yes" would have discredited him with those who found the imperial domination system unacceptable. "No" would have made him subject to arrest for sedition.  By avoiding the trap Jesus asks us to recognize that while we may owe the rulers of this world earthly things like taxes, we commit our spiritual beings to God completely. For me, this Gospel and specifically the Roman coin, are the most effective of all Matthew’s devices to illustrate the Kingdom of God. The coin serves to remind us that it, as a single entity, reveals our existence in two dimensions, mortal and spiritual. Not unlike our mind, body and soul, they are separate realms of our human existence that co-eexist in one being  . What do you think? 

I am coming to you now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them. I have given them your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. For they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them...while they are still in the world (John 17.)

We are merely stewards

 

In this parable (Matthew 21:33-46) the Pharisees were indignant at the thought that they might not be considered to be as good as they thought they were. After all, “they were entitled” by birth and dismissed anything that might challenge their place in Jewish society. Don’t do we sometimes think that we are entitled…just because we were born into a certain social strata? Let’s face it, as citizens of this great country it’s easy to take our blessings for granted. We live sometimes as though we have somehow earned these blessings. 

As today’s Gospel reminds us, we are mere temporary resident tenants who have been entrusted as stewards of the Master’s property and are expected to return it better than the way we found it. Like the tenants who leased the land, we are often too busy tending to our own agendas and take our minds off the prize. We forget that the landowner is going to hold us accountable for what we have done with his land. It is not our private club.   

The kingdom of God does not work like a marketplace. That is man’s construct not God’s. What we do in His kingdom does not exist to serve our own agendas but rather it exists to serve something much greater than ourselves. His vineyard has nothing to do with returns on investment or quid pro quo.  We have no idea what that yield is or will be. God’s love like a fertile verdant garden, takes what we have and returns it more beautiful than before.  

In Matthew, Jesus describes the violent way the tenant farmers treated the servants and the landowner’s own son.  He then asks them how they think the landowner will treat the tenant farmer.  Thoroughly entrenched in their world’s ideology of violence and retribution, the Pharisees say that the landowner will bring those retches to a miserable end.  Jesus knows that this is not quite the whole story and tells them, “The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone.”  In other words, God is not about to give up.  No matter what violent acts are perpetuated against Jesus, the Father will see that the rejected stone continues to be the cornerstone. 

The kingdom is not ours.  The kingdom belongs to God.  We who live in the kingdom must reside on God’s terms and not ours.  We are just stewards.  This good news is worth sharing!

 

What's Past is Past

 

In Matthew’s deceptively simple parable (Matthew 21 28-32), Jesus invites his adversaries to look at the future, as one not dominated by the arguments of the past, but one that is open to God’s presence in our lives to restore, and make all things new. 

The chief priests and elders do not accept this invitation. The idea of the "presence of God in the lives of man" is not only foreign, it is blasphemous. Besides, they have too much invested in the past and their beliefs which are defined by their own man-made rules that they have they have assumed the “authority” to enforce. 

They have become dependent on their self-created identities and  refuse to give it up for an unknown future. But those who are “down and out,” and represent the marginalized , e.g., the poor, the tax collectors and prostitutes have no past to define or follow them into the future. They eagerly embrace Jesus’ promise of a new life in God's kingdom. 

Throughout our readings of Matthew these past weeks, Jesus makes this same promise to us. We are forgiven solely because there is a forgiver. We are loved unconditionally; we cannot earn or lose God’s love. No matter what we have done, no matter what may have been done to us, the future is still open. Whatever hurt we may have experienced or done in the past is, ultimately…in the past. We do not have to allow the past to define our future or our identity. We do not have to drag our past around with us and take it out whenever we feel the need to linger in its memory. We are more than the sum total of all that has happened to us. 

The future is open. It may seem almost impossible to let go of the past and walk into the future. After all, the past is a known entity; it’s familiar, whereas the future is open… and can be scary. But if we meditate on and invoke the words of Thomas Merton, we know that we are not alone: l will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me alone. No, you will never leave me alone. (excerpts in part from Partner in Preaching, David Lose, 9/22/14)

 

 

The last will be first, and the first will be last."

 The story from (Matthew 20:1-16) is one that asks us to put on the mind of the poet and think in metaphor. On the surface it defies logic and the world of “fairness” in which we live. But man’s sense of fairness and God’s “justice” are not the same. Can we blame some of the gardeners for feeling that they were duped: “what’s going on here; we worked from dusk to dawn, and these guys arrive just before closing time and they get the same pay?  That’s not fair!” Who could argue with their logic? Think of it—if you tried to run a business on the basis of paying everyone the same rate, regardless of how well and long they worked, your business wouldn’t last very long and you’d have some very disgruntled employees.

Just as God’s forgiveness requires that we turn logic on its head and suspend our belief system of “quid pro quo,” likewise God’s realm of justice and peace defies our sense of fairness. God’s love has nothing to do with logic or fairness. These are all part of a human convention and a world based on rules, laws and logic.  There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love or his kingdom. In this kingdom, everyone receives the generosity of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love and God’s unfailing mercy.

David Steindel-Rast writes that “salvation” is homecoming. When love not power reigns supreme, alienation from ourselves, from all others, and from God is healed. The moment we realize we can never fall out of God’s love, we come to “ourselves” like the wayward son in the parable—to our true self at home in the God Household as a uniquely loved member of the family. And now we become catalysts for salvation of the whole world, its transformation from power and domination to service and love. Salvation—and this needs to be stressed—is not a private matter. (Deeper Than Words, Living the Apostle’s Creed, p56.)

In a very real sense, we are all “eleventh hour workers.”

Be Prepared

 

The kind of waiting Matthew is encouraging (Mathew 25:1-13) is difficult. Waiting for something way overdue or waiting for something you’re not sure will even come is challenging. How about waiting for someone who is the center of your life and not sure when he or she will arrive? It’s irritating and thoughtless if we are left in the dark, although in fairness he or she may not know themselves. In any case, it's unnerving. This special arrival involves preparation but being so distracted, it's hard to concentrate on the tasks at hand. And what about waiting for a return call from a doctor or lab? There is no way to prepare; what’s done is done. We just wait. The anxiety and stress of the “in-between time of waiting" can be difficult. 

This parable reminds us that we are not alone in our waiting. Upon closer look Jesus is speaking of his own “in-between time;” his own time of waiting. The scene is set between Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his trial and crucifixion. And one thing on which Matthew and the other Gospel writers agree is that Jesus knew what was coming. Yet here he is, still teaching the crowds; debating his opponents, and instructing his disciples…even as he waits for the coming cross. When he gets to the garden we know how difficult waiting was for Jesus, and how all his followers were so “hard to find,” even after he asked them to wait with him.  

Waiting for Jesus’ imminent return is difficult for most of us to conceptualize; yet, Jesus’ presence is with us always. Each time we work for justice, we testify to the presence of Jesus. Each time we help one another, we testify to Jesus’ presence. Each time we stand up for the poor, or reach out to the friendless, we testify to the presence of the Risen Christ.  

We are the Church. We are those who wait for each other. We are those who support each other in times of pain, loss or bereavement. We are those who help each other wait, and prepare, and keep the faith. In all these ways, we encourage each other with the promises of Christ. That’s what it means to be Christ’s followers, then and now. 

Lost and Found

 

 We all know what it’s like to lose something or someone. Perhaps we can remember a time when we felt lost. We all know those associated feelings that border on fear, if not terror. Reading Luke 15:1-32 helps us to remember how we felt when we experienced loss and the joy we felt when we were “reunited” or “found.” 

One of my most memorable experiences with loss goes back to my very early childhood and is indelibly ingrained in my memory. I was not more than five years old and my mother sister and I were on a crowded beach in Coney Island. I suppose I got a little bored sitting on the blanket alone with my mother and sleeping baby sister I remember pestering my mother to let me get some water from the ocean for my pail to bring back to the blanket so I could make some mud pies. Mom resisted my going to the shore alone and did not want to leave my sister sleeping  unattended. I finally convinced her that I could not possibly get lost and would be always aware of where she was. She yielded and so I made my way with my metal pail and shovel in tow, carefully drawing a “tether” line in the sand with my foot. I played at the surfside for a bit, filled my pail and turned to make my way back to the blanket. Of course, the line was obliterated and I immediately panicked because I couldn’t find the line in the sand leading back, and above all, could not see my mother. I remember being overcome with fear and on the verge of tears. A woman standing nearby came to my aid, and assured me that we would find my mother. Mom appeared in seconds. Although seconds must have seemed like an eternity to me. I can still remember what I felt when my mother gathered me up in her arms and held me close, assuring me that I was not lost and that I was always in her sight. I suppose the reason I can still remember this event so vividly is because of the “palpable” effect it had and continues to have even as I write today.   

I relate this childhood experience with the stories Jesus uses in our gospel to describe what it means to lose and to find and to be lost and be found. I wonder what is the more memorable of the two emotions, the fear of being lost or the joy of being found. In both instances Luke depicts the joy in finding what was lost and being found. There was no recrimination just joy.

 

Please...not again

 

It all began with Adam, didn’t it? When he fell he introduced and asserted his free will and with it, independence. However, Adam also introduced chaos, dying, misery and death as our legacy. “No! No! No!” Writes Kruger in the character of God , “Not on our watch! We did not create you to perish, to die, to live in such appalling pain and blindness and brokenness. We created you to share in our life, to taste and feel and know and experience what we have known for all eternity.” (The Shack Revisited)

So Jesus’ frustration with Peter in denying his destiny for our sake is palpable. You could almost hear him say, Please... not again. This is why I’ve made this trip Peter. You don’t know the mind of God and you can’t put words in my mouth. Adam got it wrong in the beginning and now you are repeating his original mistake. Please don’t be an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings.  

And so Jesus came as The One through whom the very life of the triune God would enter human existence. This in turn would allow us to be raised up and share in the very life of God. We have to get it right this time.

So part of what strikes me in (Matthew 16:21-27) is how it reveals something deeply true about our human nature, and is personified in the behavior of Peter. We don’t want to hear bad news. We certainly don’t want to know that our best friend and our Savior will have to suffer and die so that we free. And can we bear to know that we too will follow him on our journey through this vale of tears as part of Adam’s legacy? We have to get it right this time.

 

...Even the dogs eat the scraps

 

Can we imagine what it feels like to have a pressing need or a significant request ignored and met with silence? Just think about it for a moment. For me, the question and my own personal memories are brought home by the plight of the Canaanite woman. (Matthew 15:21-28). This Gospel has always made me uncomfortable. In years passed whenever it rolled around as our assigned reading, I wrote around the story, not wanting to address it; not fully understanding it as it was so contrary to Jesus’ nature and earlier events in Matthew’s Gospels. Even Mark in his corresponding account of the story (Mark 7:24-35), chickened out and did not include Jesus’ somewhat callous response in Matthew: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” (I still am chickening out as I had to change the blog's title from the last sentence.)

Admittedly, even today, women’s words are too often met with silence or are interrupted or disrespected, by men and sometimes by other women. Those times in my life when I asked for information or help and received nothing but silence, were hurtful. No one immediately responds to the Canaanite woman or gives the impression that they will respond. The disciples urge Jesus to send her away because, it appears, they are annoyed by her continued shouting and her refusal to take silence for an answer. Too often we either cannot or refuse to empathize with people whose experience is different from ours. If we are not at the receiving end of oppression or injustice we find it easy to dismiss it as unwelcomed noise. If our common humanity and our relatedness does not move us, what will? The Canaanite woman’s blood ran through Jesus’ veins and for that matter, ours…but it didn’t seem to move Jesus!

So many  disenfranchised people in history like the Canaanite woman have persisted as lone minority voices among a majority of authoritative and powerful men. She persisted! She didn’t go away; she would not be dismissed. Her plea for help was met with the language of societal indifference: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

In the end, Matthew’s Jesus responds by commending the woman for her faith. (In Mark’s version, Jesus commends the woman with no mention of faith.} Matthew calls what this woman does an act of faith. Yet, Jesus does not perform an exorcism; he simply says, “Let it be done for you as you wish.” He does not say let it be done as you believed but as you will. The woman’s strong will manifested by her persistence, identified as faith, led to her daughter’s healing.

While Jesus doesn’t tell us, we are told that the woman’s daughter was healed instantly. Perhaps faith engenders persistence or maybe persistence feeds faith. Either way, persistence and faith make a powerful pair. While we can never  underestimate the power of a persistent woman and the God in whom she believes, we still wonder why Jesus hesitated and initially responded as he did? For me, the answer lies in the fact that Jesus was as fully human as he was divine. I wonder if this was a teachable moment for him and that this woman at this precise moment in time, was the vessel for this powerful education? While I feel a little better, I still have difficulty with this Gospel. You see, it’s so easy to relate to the loving, compassionate, Jesus who is “above it all,” but when I encounter Jesus who in this case, behaves as I might have, it makes me uncomfortable. Maybe that’s the lesson for us; we’re are trying; we’re still learning. We are only human.

Remember man, presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind in man. Alexander Pope

 

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water

 

Have you ever noticed that it’s often in our most challenging times that we recognize God’s presence most clearly? I’m not saying it should be this way or that God is only present when we most need him. Rather, I think there is just something about significant challenges and trials that clarify our priorities and cut through the many distractions of everyday life that prevent us from feeling God's presence more clearly. What strikes me is how (Matthew 14:22-33)  reveals something deeply about our humanity, and the behavior of his disciples. While I know that I often overlook God’s presence when all is well, I have no problem calling out to him when things take a more difficult turn and are not going so well. Yes, I know it’s all a part of our transformative journey in which we desire to grow in our quest to be more closely united with God. But let’s face it, it’s so much easier when times are peaceful and pleasant.  

Looking back over these past months of  "confinement," compounded by some discomfort and apprehension, I realize how our faith is a little like a yo-yo or see-saw...up one day, down the other. Our initial fear of the early unknown had us hungrily praying  for God’s intervention.  When tragedy strikes in the form of personal loss, illness, the fracture of a relationship, or some mistake we’ve made, our ongoing need for God becomes painfully clear.  

Isaiah (55:1-33) reminds  us that from the beginning of our creation God desired that we flourish and thrive and while we know the journey back to Him is not easy and requires  effort on our part, do we sometimes just sit back and wait for life to happen? Or, or do we step out of our “boat” like Peter, and make it happen? Either way, we often forget how much we depend on God and when we think we have done it on our own, our egos dismiss His intervention: “it’s OK Lord, I got this one.” 

All too often we take comfort in our modest success and assume that we no longer need Him now. We forget how much God is intimately wrapped up in every aspect of our lives… and wants to be. As a reminder of God’s perennial presence Carl Jung had the following reminder carved over the entrance to his home in Zurich.  

You are My Beloved…Listen to Him

 

Do you remember when you first felt an undeniable prompt that called you to pursue a goal or an activity?  I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to God's voice. While talk of "a calling" is commonly ascribed to clergy, we don’t necessarily consider that we’re called to a career, vocation or volunteering. But, why not? I raise this question because I think that “our calling” in life is in many ways related to the Transfiguration (Matthew 171-9).  The visual impact of the dazzling, blinding light and brightness enveloping Jesus is unforgettable. And yet the event forces us to focus on Peter in that it signals the beginning of Peter's transformation as well.

The scene moves very quickly. We can feel Peter’s fear and confusion as a voice from heaven literally interrupts his chatter, and virtually says, "Would you please be quiet for a minute, and just listen to him!" We can relate to Peter, as he falls to the ground in fright,  covering his ears and shielding his eyes. And in an instant,  it's over...the voice, the light, the prophets of the past...no one remains except Jesus, who reaches out to Peter, 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 really listen to Jesus. (Are you listening; really listening?) Isn’t this the pattern that shapes the lives of every Christian? We  try our best and sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. We, have moments of insight and moments of denial. We fall down in fear and are raised up again to go forth in confidence. 

We are called to listen, to discern God's will if we are to 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.

“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)

Wheat and Weeds

 Jesus moves on, according to Matthew (Matthew 13:23-43), from stories of God-the-Mad-Farmer who sows seed everywhere and refuses to weed the crops, to stories of choices that must be made, stories in which it is not God, but we who must choose between small seeds that can grow God-crops in His world, and the myriad of things the world in all its disarray and turbulence, wants us to choose instead.

The grain of mustard seed – the smallest of all the seeds, breaks through a weedy patch to become the largest of all the bushes and offer shelter to many birds. The tiniest amount of yeast can grow flour into bread enough to feed a town. The smallest pearl in its natural purity, stands out among fake gaudy baubles, and has far greater value than everything we own. A unexpected treasure, found in the field of our lives will require everything we have to mine, hone and protect.

Each of these parables require that we go all out to pursue. The price for the treasures of God is everything we have. Who are we to be purchasing pearls? To be selling the farm for some little thing you found in a field? To be wasting all our yeast to raise barrels of flour to make bread for strangers? Who would plant a mustard seed that results in an invasive plant of little value instead of fig trees or olive groves?

And none of these would get us any attention or plaudits for our decision; no, rather most would get us some rolled eyes, catcalls, and derisive remarks uttered. It takes courage to know and follow God’s will for us; breaking from the crowd whose numbers may provide safety and shelter, is risky. To be willing to say and do the right thing when the crowd exhorts us to follow…what we know in our heart just doesn’t feel right. Isn’t that the Spirit speaking to us…it just doesn’t feel right? It’s a quiet thing in the midst of the chaos and noise.                                                                

Jesus reminds us that what’s precious is likely to be judged as junk by most folks, and likely to require a lot from you and me. All the stories say – Make yourself available to God

 

It’s the cutting edge of making choices,
splitting what you choose from what you don’t choose.
And making your choices will set you apart
from others, even friends and family.

 This is the work of becoming your own self.
When your choices upset those around you
it may be because you’re being foolish.
But it may be because you’re making your choices
instead of letting them. It will be like this.
Abandon that owned self, and find your own self.

Listen deeply to God.
Let God alone lead you.
Make yourself available to God
as an instrument of righteousness,
and know that even as you let go of your life
you receive life.
-Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Do we really know what we want?

 

It’s easy to relate to Jesus’ reaction to the crowd in Matthew 11:25-30 as he compares his followers to of children who cannot make up their minds:  John came neither eating nor drinking, and they said, `He has a demon'; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they said, `Look, at Jesus, a glutton, a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!  In today’s vernacular, Jesus might have asked “do you really know what you want? What else will it take for me to help you understand how much God loves you?” His beautifully human feelings to which we identify helps us know that the one whose Word we follow and live by can experience these emotions that are so much a part of our lives. 

We all view the world through our own prism or lenses that are largely influenced by our experiences and the world around us. Two people can hear an identical message yet, the same two people may have a completely different interpretation. We attribute this to our human nature. Sometimes we consciously create our own reality that serve our desired expectations and “wishes” based on what we want to hear. In most cases, our perception is unconscious and consistent with our view of reality. This might be called “unintentional bias.” 

It’s when we allow the ego to “re-write” or “re-create” our own “script” for what we know to be reality, that we work at cross-purposes with God’s will. These become fanciful dreams, not based in reality. On the other hand, “hope” is based on realistic expectations that come into play as new creative possibilities. Scientific studies are rooted in premises that have reasonable potential for a desired outcome. When all parties are blinded any possible unintentional bias is removed. Studies are only possible when empiric evidence suggests a positive outcome. in other words we don't set out to design a study to prove a negative outcome. Consider our current political climate: when we don't like the outcome, we subvert the facts and create our own. Jesus loved the Centurion as much as the leper. He had no qualifiers.  

“What do you want? Jesus seems to ask the crowd. Except he knows they won’t answer. They can’t because what they want is to grow, to evolve, to improve and more. And yet, they want to be left alone, untouched and unchanged, safely ensconced in their comfort zones. Transformative change is risky as it almost always requires that we let go of those attachments that paralyze us; in many ways change may feel a little like dying. How many of us have considered our experiences during Covid19 as transformative? Do we recognize ongoing changes that are desirable and maybe not so desirable? How many of us have been challenged by the need to change, a this time during which holding on to the old way is not even an option?  

Paradoxically, we as people who follow Jesus – want to grow but do we really want to change. Why can’t it just happen without our involvement is the fanciful wish? Let it happen in the bliss of ignorance. Change, you see, brings the unknown. Change is not certain. Change implies risk and even potential loss. 

In Matthew we see the love of God manifest in Jesus’ ability to embrace our human diversity with his divinely inspired nature. Reaction to the different ministries of John and Jesus provide a model to help us understand that whatever we do can never meet the needs of everyone. We will not be able to reach those whose lenses are distorted by ego and they will forever remain deaf to us. Instead, surrendering our voice to God who through the Holy Spirit will provide the voice that will reach the different ears and different needs, we vainly believe that what we say should be sufficient for all.  

Thomas Keating tells us “that there are all kinds of ways in which God speaks to us—through our thoughts and/or anyone of our faculties. But keep in mind that God’s first language is silence. We must listen. We must be willing to listen. The Spirit speaks to our conscience through scripture and through the events of daily life. Reflection on those two sources of personal encounter and the dismantling of the emotional programming of the past prepare the psyche to listen at a more refined level of attention.”  

As John and Jesus show us, there is more than one means to the great end… God.

The World Was Younger Than Today

In the years before Covid19, we had the good fortune to celebrate Father’s Day with my son and his family.  The day was always made more special because it coincided with 2 June birthdays. Now, post Covid, we were able to celebrate in person again, although the children are no longer children; all,except on is in his/her 20’s. And their issues are far more complex now.  Although it was only four years ago, it seemed so long ago and far way and the world was much younger than today. 

As the proverbial “fly on the wall,” I  enjoyed listening to their repartee and marveled as to how well this all turned out. I realized that I became a better parent when I became a grandfather. As a grandparent I am more a spectator than an active participant and have the luxury of being able to sit back and observe how these scenes of life  all play out. Sure, I know some of the challenges my son and daughter-in-law face in rearing children are the same as the ones we and our parents faced, but the world and our culture are more complex today and the pressures on parents to manage these challenges are greater than the ones we faced. Our parents never faced Covid19 and the challenges that this dreaded virus has heaped on young families. The book has yet to be written but somehow it seems that it is all working out and that whatever changes that had to be made were made with insight and intuition and by the seat of our pants. 

As a “spectator” I am in awe as to how our son and daughter-in-law work through the endless issues that pop up on a daily, if not hourly basis, and I ask myself, “when did they learn to do all that; where did they pick up all the skills to handle this? I don’t think I would have done it as well.” I have learned so much about parenting in watching them and while it makes me feel good to think that there may be some imprinting going on, they are far ahead of where I was then.  

Life, wrote Kierkegaard, can only be understood backwards.  But it  can only be lived going forward.  

We see ourselves in our children almost as if we were watching an old home movie or looking in a mirror. Wouldn't it be great if we could see our lives and ways of relating to others play out in the life of Jesus? Every day we strive to be Jesus’ surrogates in all that we do. We don’t always succeed although being aware of when we slip is part of the journey.

Our task (Matthew 10: 37-42) is to consciously attend to the Christ in everyone. Christ in the stranger. Christ in the enemy. Christ in the friend. Christ in the spouse. Christ in our siblings. Christ in the politician who makes our blood boil. Christ in the disenfranchised. Christ in the “others.”

 

You Are What You Eat

 

Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you…John 6:51-58  

Whoa!!! Imagine hearing these words for the first time without any previous knowledge of the Eucharist.  We know that some of those gathered in the crowd were startled by what Jesus was saying, to the point that they stopped following him. Jesus doesn’t tone down his rhetoric or even hint that he might be speaking metaphorically. No, he said what he did in the way he did so that his words would not be easily forgotten. He wanted to challenge his followers to process his words so that they would resonate in a place beyond the intellect. I wonder if after years of listening to so many Gospel readings and sermons on the Eucharist, have we become jaded to the true essence of their meaning?  

Imagine you are attending church for the first time as this passage is read!

Imagine hearing Jesus say these words. How would you react???  

Once again John relies on mystical words to speak to each of us in that place in which the personal images of reality and life itself reside. John invites us to close our eyes and picture what being in a relationship with God really means. Note, I use the word “picture,” not “understand,” in an effort to prompt our imagination and senses to feel the words as a palpable, sensory experience, and know what being in a relationship with God actually feels like, tastes like, and smells like. This is at the essence of our being and what we mean when we say “and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” God fully shared our humanity through Jesus as we through Jesus, fully share in God’s divinity. Anything less than that relationship with God would be reduced to mere acquaintance.  

St. Augustine used the phrase “visible words” to help explain the connection between the sacraments and our daily lives. Baptism and Communion are visible, physical manifestations of our faith. In other words, the sacraments are the embodiment of the gospel in the material form of water, bread, and wine. They serve as the physical presence of what we have heard and believe because we are physical creatures. And so the gospel is proclaimed so that we may hear it, and this very same gospel comes alive to us in the Eucharist as we taste, touch and feel it with our hands, our mouths and our bodies.

My Prayer to the Holy Trinity

 

Dear God, 

I'm not making excuses but your residing within my very being is all very new to me and frankly has never been discussed as part of my religious education. I hate to sound critical but this doctrine of the Indwelling may have been passed over; I don't remember hearing from the nuns in grade school or the brothers in high school. I wonder if they even knew?

Yet Lord, all the while, deep down I wanted your love and the assurance of your love and I always tried to earn it. So you can see why your Indwelling Presence strikes me as strange and foreign.  Now I’m being told that while my prayers are beautiful and comforting, whenever I want to speak with you, it’s not always necessary to say the prayers I was taught and had memorized . No, rather I should converse naturally, in a familiar and relaxed way as if you’re “one of the family” because you Eternal Three, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, have made your home in me.

My religious training emphasized that you were the one who would punish me if I even talked in Church... and as a youngster I remember confessing it. It was a sin. I was trained to be meticulously respectful when I came into your presence, as if your presence was only in Church. (I remember feeling guilty for a long time when Sister Janice discovered Ralph and me playing the theme from “Dragnet” on the organ in the choir loft, one Saturday afternoon. Who knew she was preparing the sacristy for Sunday Mass! I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to face her wrath on Monday or roast in hell forever?) Now, I’m being told that your presence is within me! And I’m supposed to be comfortable with you. I feel as though I should hold my breath.

Dear God, now I’m learning not to think of grace as the absence of sin but as a gift of your presence, Father, Son and Spirit within me.  And that you are closer to me than I am to myself and that you want to be for no other reason except that you love me. That is so beautiful that I really want to hold on to this feeling forever.

I’m trying to understand that the more aware, conscious, alert, and attentive I am to your triune presence within me, the more I will find you in all things. Dear God, I really do want this.

Frankly, I must admit that in the past I hadn’t given much thought to your presence, your intimacy, you activity within me. What a love you must have for me! A genuine, boundless, omnipotent, all-present, eternal, home love within me! I certainly need a mature faith for this. I no longer can go just gliding along the surface of my old religious practices anymore, can I?

Thank you Lord.

In the Name of the Father, from whom we came and to whom we are going, and to the Son, in whom we find our true self, and to the Holy Spirit, the divine aliveness in our innermost life. Amen                                                                                            (John 3 :16-13)

(adapted from  Ronald T. Haney SJ, God Within You, Mysticism for the 21^st Century, pp. 150-151)