It Doesn't Take a Village

While the many beautiful Christmas images portray serene scenes of a tranquil birth and a simple bucolic life, historical accounts reveal that Jesus was born in a turbulent, dangerous world of political and social upheaval.  Serenity and peace were at a premium. 

This week our liturgical calendar celebrates The Presentation of Jesus in the temple Luke 2:22-40 . Despite their many hardships and challenges, I’m struck by how diligent Mary and Joseph were in discharging their parental spiritual duties, as they faithfully adhered to the tenets and practices of their religion. 

And so in Luke we celebrate Jesus’ circumcision on the eighth day following his birth. And his presentation in the temple along with Mary 's ceremonial “brit milah,”  23 days later.  Two temple attendants, Simeon and Anna, witness the ceremonies and give thanks to God for granting them the opportunity to witness the arrival of the child whom they “recognize” as the fulfillment of the prophecy and the One for whom they waited. 

This story of Jesus’ first religious ritual prompts memories of our own parents’ involvement in the initiation of our faith, and although our early memory is clouded over by infancy, many of us still cherish the pictures and artifacts that call these rituals to mind, if only second-hand. These memories pay tribute to the personal commitments our parents and caregivers made with regard to our spiritual development. Like the child Jesus, our religious heritage began with the faithful hopes and practices of our parents and others who may have been responsible for our care.  

As with most, my mother and father were responsible for my attending weekly church services and while, I often resisted the call; (after all, it was Sunday, a day I could sleep late and play with friends, who somehow were “excused” from Sunday services.)

Regarding the Church, except for worship, there was little in the way of social activities to keep us coming or hold us. We just went to Church on Sunday and we returned home. Yes, there were choir practices and altar boy calls and during Lent we attended seasonal services, but it was our parents who established the practices, and saw to it that we followed their lead. We had no choice. So, we went, we listened, we learned and eventually patterns were established and requisite attendance became ingrained. In retrospect, I believe we were blessed.

The decline of the family unit has been linked to a myriad of economic and social problems in our country. It is a fact that our children suffer most from this decline and while we look for help from outside agencies, I often wonder if we are too quick to relegate the care of these precious lives to external resources. There’s a fine line between delegation and abdication. It seems that as the problems grow more severe, additional resources are proposed to expand support for childhood development, and to entrust the educational, social and even religious development of our children to institutions. While help is invaluable and with regard to education, essential, I do not believe that it takes a village to raise a child. Luke’s Gospel reminds me that Jesus didn’t just leap from the manger and begin performing miracles and preaching God’s love. Yes, the focus is on Jesus, but it reminds us of the role Mary and Joseph played in Jesus formative years. Sure, times have changed but parental duties in the rearing of children, despite challenges and obstacles, still fall to the loving family unit.

Is that Mary and Joseph's son?

 

And so the day finally arrives as the local boy who has been making quite a name for himself, finally comes home. He goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath and reads from the prophet Isaiah, after which he begins to speak. At first the crowd whispers its approval: "Mary and Joseph certainly raised a good son." But suddenly the crowd begins to get uneasy as he continues. (Luke 1-:1-21.) 

They’re aware of the many miracles he’s performed before returning home. And for this reason, many had gathered. They wanted to see him “perform” for them: Why not a little razzle-dazzle for the home town folks? If only Jesus would just do some healings or other miracles, they would know that God's power was among them. But would they? 

Jesus performs no miracles in Nazareth; in fact, he goes out of his way to defy expected convention by reaching out to sinners, toll collectors and outcasts. So, what started initially as a positive response, the crowd begins to get angry especially since Jesus now reaches out and begins to include the Gentiles in his ministry. The essence of Jesus’ ministry is love for all people.

This abrupt shift from awe to rage seems to go deeper than jealousy or disappointment. The assembled has become hostile and threatening. I suppose it’s hard enough for Jesus in all his humanity to live up to anticipated expectations. It’s even harder still to deal with out and out rejection. Why? 

Just Do What He Says

The gospel celebrating The Wedding at Cana is unique to John and is the first of the miracles which he referred to seven signs.  John referred to these signs throughout Jesus’ ministry as events pointing to the Lord’s divinity. 

While the scene conjures up a beautiful image of Jesus as a young man accompanying his mother to a wedding feast, it reminds us that the mystery of God’s incarnation in Jesus, has as much to do with Jesus’ humanity than his divinity. That God could do miraculous things is easily understood. After all he is God. But that he could live like us with all our fears and joy, fully human is still amazing. He is one of us… and that’s the whole point.

The exchange between Jesus and his mother is endearingly familiar and personally humorous. Mary, to whom John never calls by name, senses the embarrassment of the wedding hosts and points out to Jesus that they have run out of wine. Despite any response from Jesus and without any further consultation, Mother Mary tells the servants to follow his instructions and do whatever he says. 

I have this image of my mother encouraging me on the high diving board in Steeplechase: “Come on, you can do it! I know you can!” “But, Ma,  it’s too high and I’m scared.” “Don’t be afraid, I’m here, you can do it, I know your can do it.” And I  did.

Or a time much later in my life when in the throes of an ongoing job interview process,  my mother comes home with the telephone number of a “big shot executive” son of a friend” who is expecting my call Saturday morning. 

“Ma, this is embarrassing and not how it’s done I protested. You don’t get a job in this company just because your mother works with someone’s mother.” Oblivious to my response, she replies “Never mind, just call him at 10:00 AM tomorrow; he’s expecting you.” 

I wonder what my mother or Mary saw in their sons at that moment. What was that my mother knew that I could dive off the high board and I could get the job of my dreams?  Mary had faith in her son and believed that such a miracle was possible? How did she know that this was his time? How did my mother know that I was ready and just needed a little push?  

And what about the unspoken “dialogue” between Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King. In many ways the exchange between Mary and Jesus is somewhat reminiscent of that unspoken “dialogue,” characterized by Rosa’s refusing to yield her seat. Could this well-publicized event have provoked King, whose time he thought had not yet come, to transform history. His moment was at hand.

It is more than coincidence that Jesus’ mother surrounds his earthly ministry. She is there at the very beginning of his ministry and is there at his very painful end. She is the nurturing force, and the earthly mother of the Word of God made flesh as she shares parenthood with God. 

Perhaps this sign in John 2:1-11 serves to remind us that whenever Jesus reveals his divinity, he is simultaneously revealing something about his humanity. Could this also serve to remind us of transformative changes in our faith as God’s incarnation in Jesus is about his incarnation in us. Are we ready; do we need a little push? 

 

You are My Beloved Son

I wonder how many of us celebrate the date of our Baptism as we might our birthday or anniversary. I’m not sure I can even locate my baptismal certificate much less know the month or day it took place. This Sunday we will celebrate the baptism of Jesus according to Luke 3: 15-16, 21-23. Despite the fact that this event in our church calendar was once considered an even more important feast than Christmas, the Baptism of Jesus is usually acknowledged with a Gospel reading and a sermon. Yet, along with the Epiphany, it is a celebration of the true nature of the incarnation of God. Perhaps we should wait a little while before we put away our manger scenes. 

I suspect that for many Christians the sacrament of Baptism is somewhat of a mystery. If you ask some why they want their children baptized they would be hard pressed to explain. Do we do it to please grandparents? Is it a cultural act? Is it some sort of “ticket to admission” to a particular church or is it a pre-qualification for communion? How many of us were raised believing that Baptism was intended to “wash away” our sins? 

Instead, the sacrament informs us that the presence of God is with us and in us and is essential to our very being. Baptism reminds us that in addition to being part of the Christian community, we were invested in God’s Kingdom long before any sprinkling of water or liturgical incantation took place. 

In this Gospel Luke seems to “be apologizing” for having to baptize Jesus, when he tells us that he is not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals. Then he goes on to say that while I am baptizing you with water, the one mightier than I is coming and will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. How many times have we said “Oh Lord I am not worthy” when we really are worthy? We are worthy because of our birth rite but like Mary we are humbled. 

Back to our Gospel…when all the people and Jesus had been baptized, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased. This powerful affirmation of the Father made it clear to all just who Jesus was.

“In a very profound way we are in fact brothers and sisters to one another. Each of us has already received the first great gift of our spiritual inheritance: the gift of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of God resides in each of us as the source of the divine life and the source of all life…The life of God in us means that we are closely bonded to one another. We are more closely united by the living presence of the Spirit in us than we would be by family blood lines. The shared life in God, makes us family in a profoundly personal way. This is the faith vision of the reality which we call Church.” (John Powell, S.J. The Christian Vision, p131)