What comes out is what defiles

 

In Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 Jesus teaches that the people of God are not set apart by particular religious traditions or ethnicity, but by what comes from the heart, characterized by love for others. We do not need more religion, but more reflection on what proceeds from our heart. Yes, traditions can be good, and can help point us and others closer to God. However, they can also send subtle or explicit messages that say "you don't belong."

Jesus challenged the purity “laws” and turned them upside down. In their place he substituted a radically alternate social vision. The new community that Jesus announced would be characterized by compassion for everyone, not based on external compliance to a purity code and egalitarian inclusivity.

"No outcasts," writes Garry Wills in What Jesus Meant, "were NOT cast out far enough in Jesus' world to make him shun them — not Roman collaborators, not lepers, not prostitutes, not the crazed, not the possessed. 

“Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile…from within come evil thoughts and they defile.”

Who do we judge when we sanctimoniously spurn those who are not like us or not part of our group? (Bible Study Blog, Bob Reina, August, 28, 2012)

To Whom Can We Go?"

Are you Leaving or are you staying?

In John 6:60-69, the followers of Jesus have heard words they do not understand. They are repelled! It simply is impossible to believe that Jesus is inviting them to eat his flesh and drink his blood…so, many of those who had followed Jesus up to this point, now walk away. They have reached an obstacle in their belief which they cannot overcome.  

It is not difficult to imagine Jesus' sadness as he watched them leave… Fearing that he was going to be completely abandoned, he turns to the twelve apostles and asks them what they are going to do...Peter speaks for them and us when he responds “Master to whom can we go?”

We do all that we can in life to avoid being placed in position of vulnerability, yet in this gospel we have the twelve willing to be vulnerable by surrendering control and choosing complete dependency on Jesus. That dependency reveals an ultimate statement of faith: Lord, we have no options. We have no choice but to keep following you. 

Faith is deepened in situations where self-reliance is no longer possible, a place in which it is difficult to rely on intellect, reason or abilities. Faith is the willingness to let go of "conventional wisdom" and listen to a voice within. 

The ability to listen to what Jesus is saying to each of us and then asking whether we are going to continue following him is part of our spiritual journey. For most of us, it can happen many times in our lifetime when we are challenged to acknowledge that we must leave the "training wheels" of religion and grow into a personal deep-rooted knowing, and ask, if not to you than to whom do I turn? In end our response has to be personal…walk away…or stay and delve deeper into the mystery. ( adapted from Tuesday, August 21, 2012 Bible Study Blog by Bob Reina)

Lost and Found

 

The Prodigal Son, is among the most recognized parables in the New Testament, (Luke 15:1-32). While there are several important themes for us to consider in the reading, the most prevalent focuses on the father and the so-called “faithful son.” Paradoxically, the prodigal son is a secondary character in the story as it relates to Jesus’ purpose in telling it.

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 any human being for that matter, who is capable of acting with such selfless compassion and understanding.

In contrast to the father’s behavior, the reaction 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 with regard to the homage paid to his wayward brother. 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 our 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 repent. The father makes no inquiry into his past and  merely rejoices in his return and orders 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 the more faithful and dutiful son who without fanfare, quietly 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?

 Richard Rohr writes that “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 characterized by good guys and bad guys, 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 has only awakened our social consciousness 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)

 

 

 

Who is My Neighbor

 

 

The Parable of The Good Samaritan is one of the most beloved gospel stories in the Bible. The story (Luke 10:25-37) tells of a man who is savagely beaten and robbed in going from Jerusalem to Jericho and given up for dead in a ditch. A priest and a Levite pass by without helping him. But a Samaritan stops and cares for him, taking him to an inn where the Samaritan pays for his care. The parable’s overarching theme teaches that enemies can have compassion for enemies; compassion has no boundaries, and that judging people on the basis of their religion or ethnicity can leave us dying in a ditch. 

So who were the Samaritans, really? We are told that they were not just outcasts. They were the despised enemies of the Jews. So in this parable in which Jesus’ audience would have expected a Jew to be the hero of the story, they were likely shocked to hear that it was a Samaritan instead. Only by understanding this pivotal paradox does the powerful message of the parable come through for them then and us today.

Scripture scholar James Martin defines a parable as a “metaphor or a simile drawn from nature or common life arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application in order to tease it into active thought.” He goes on to explain that parables are poetic explanations of spiritual concepts impossible to comprehend fully. For example the reign of God is far too rich to be encompassed by any one definition, no matter how theologically accurate. In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a man from a hated ethnic group was ultimately revealed to Jewish listeners as the good guy who cares for the stranger. As with this parable, many run counter to the expectations of the audience and therefore are subversive to “conventional wisdom.” (Martin, p 200)

The lesson in this parable springs from an answer to a question posed to Jesus by a lawyer, likely an expert in the Mosaic Law and not a court lawyer of today. The lawyer’s question was, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus takes this opportunity to define what His disciples’ relationship should be to their neighbors and in typical fashion, Jesus answers the question with a question.  “He asks ‘What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?’" By referring to the Law, Jesus refers the man to an authority they both would accept as truth, the Old Testament. In essence, He is asking the lawyer, what does Scripture say about this and how does he interpret it? In so doing Jesus avoids an argument or being “trapped” and puts Himself in the position of evaluating the lawyer’s answer instead of the lawyer evaluating His answer.  

The lawyer answers correctly and Jesus acknowledges that he has given an orthodox answer, but doesn’t stop there. He tells him that this kind of love requires more than an emotional feeling; he would need to “practice what he preached.” As an educated man the lawyer realized that he could not possibly keep this law, nor would he have necessarily wanted to. There would always be people in his life that he could not love. Thus, in an effort to limit the law’s command by limiting its parameters, he asks the question “who is my neighbor?” The word “neighbor” in the Greek means “someone who is near,” and in the Hebrew it means “someone that you have an association with.” This allows for a limited interpretation of neighbor as fellow Jew and would have excluded Samaritans, Romans, and other foreigners.  

Jesus uses the parable of the Good Samaritan to correct the lawyer’s limited definition of “neighbor” and corresponding duty to his neighbor. By ending the encounter in this manner, Jesus wants us to follow the Samaritan’s example in our own lives in that we are to show compassion and love for those we encounter in our everyday activities. We are to love others regardless of their race or religion. As for reaching out to help, the criterion is need. If they need and we have the supply, then we are to give generously and freely, without expectation of return. This is a seemingly impossible obligation for the lawyer, and often for us. We cannot always keep the law because of our human condition; our heart and desires are mostly of self and selfishness. Our ego strives to keep us in our comfort zone and not get involved. 

Thus, the lessons of the Parable of the Good Samaritan are three-fold: (1) we are to set aside our prejudice and show love and compassion for others. (2) Our neighbor is anyone we encounter; we are all creatures of the creator and we are to love all of mankind as Jesus has taught. (3) Keeping the law in its entirety with the intent to save ourselves is an impossible task; we need help, and Jesus is all too eager to be there for us. (based on Matt Slick, Grace Bible College)

I Am The Bread of Life

I often wonder how priests and theologians were able to continue to plumb the depths of John’s gospel and help us understand its relevance to our lives. I would try to put myself in the audience of John’s day and try to understand why these stories of Jesus the Bread of Life, are so vital to our faith. We need to hear them again and again until Jesus becomes our bread of life in the depths of our very being.
Do we we fully comprehend the theological and existential significance of approaching and “gathering” around the altar, the table of the Lord, to receive Communion? And if we don’t or are still confused is it really any wonder? Let’s face it, debate about the meaning of the Eucharist continues even now in this relatively tranquil ecumenical period between and within different denominations. The sacrament holds a pivotal place in the Church, in that it is central to our life of faith and yet can also be so very confusing. 

John writes (John 6:24-35), “How can this man give us his flesh to eat...Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” In their literal interpretation these phrases had quite an impact on John’s audience then as they do now. He is speaking to us in the present time as directly as he did in his time. 

St. Augustine attempts to clarify the connection between sacraments and our daily lives with his use of the phrase “visible words.” I find this phrase attractive because it helps me appreciate the Eucharist as the visible, physical reference to the presence of Christ in our lives. The Eucharist is the embodiment of the proclaimed and heard gospel and through imagery and our ability to relate to their physical forms, they enable us to bridge the metaphorical words of John with our humanity, and God’s incarnation in Jesus…through him and with him. As we fully absorb his presence in water, bread, and wine, we become incorporated into the “trinity.” When the word of God in scripture and the sacramental rites have worked their way through our senses and penetrate to the intuitive level of our being, the immense energies of the Spirit are released and our consciousness is gradually transformed into the mind of Christ. (Thomas Keating, The Mystery of Christ, p2)

The liturgy does not offer us a mere seat in the bleachers, or even a ringside seat. We are invited to participate in the event itself, to absorb its meaning and to relate to Christ on every level of his being as well as our own. The main thrust of the liturgy is to develop a relationship with Christ and engage all our faculties: the will, intellect, memory, imagination, senses and body. The transmission of the personal relationships through him…with the Father. It empowers us as we celebrate the mysteries of Christ, to not only perceive them as historical events but as manifestations of Christ here and now. (Thomas Keating, The Mystery of Christ, p8)

Now You Feed them

 

Is there any Gospel reading more familiar to us than Jesus feeding the multitudes John 6:1-15)? Let’s put aside the inclination to call Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand a miracle. Why? Primarily because it misses the point and distracts us from the true miracles that take place in the story. For the one who existed before existence, made the universe out of nothing and created light from darkness, simply multiplying some pieces of fish and bread was no major feat. 

John reminds us that the wonders Jesus performed throughout his ministry were always indications of the character of the God of love whose divine presence Jesus bears. Make no mistake, what Jesus did is anything but pedestrian but the point isn’t what Jesus did, but what he did and why he did it. Jesus reveals the presence of God in him by his deep compassion, the hallmark of Jesus ministry. This single word summarizes God’s unconditional love for us and is at the core of his incarnation in Christ. 

Ok, let’s get back to our miracle… that was no minor endeavor. What we now call “food scarcity” was rampant in the ancient world. And so the disciples’ suggestion that the hordes of people go away and buy food isn’t just unrealistic it’s ridiculous. First, they were in a deserted place in the middle of nowhere, and second, they would likely not have any money to buy food anyway. And so Jesus tells his disciples to get over their self-concern and off-loading their selfish desire to be left alone, after all what could they really do about it. So he tells them go ahead and feed the people… you do it!  Which brings us to the real miracle of the story: Jesus uses the disciples, even when they would rather look after themselves, to tend to the needs of these thousands of men, women, and children. They go from “we have nothing here but five loaves and fishes” to one of abundance to “thank you, God, for these five loaves and fishes.” Whatever their initial skepticism, or doubt, or self-indulgence, the disciples are caught up in Jesus’ words of abundance and “they all ate and were filled” as God worked through these reluctant disciples in all their humanity, to care for the poor and hungry that he loves so much. 

And that miracle continues every day today when a parent puts his/her own dreams aside to care for the needs of their children or aging parent. God is working that same miracle when a community of faith makes a promise that any one that comes to its doors will not be turned away hungry, or when a Muslim family hides a Christian refugee from the wrath of murderous radicals, or a father takes a bullet to shield his wife and daughter from an assassin. God is still at work performing miracles through us, his disciples eager, yet reluctant, and everything in between.

The real wonder of this story is that it continues today. God cares deeply and passionately for those who are most vulnerable:  the poor, the homeless, the hungry. And God continues to use us to care for them.  Just maybe if we are serving our “needy,” however poor or rich, we are reminded of the similarity that exists between the scenes in Matthew. Let those of us who have been fed by God’s heavenly food go and do likewise by sharing God’s love with all we meet and especially with those in deepest need. There are two miracles in this story. They have little to do with simply multiplying loaves and fishes. By remembering them, we are hopefully prepared to continue to follow Jesus and care for those in need. And that is no small thing at a time like this. Thank you God.

Summertime

For some reason this summer appears to be hotter than most, at least to me anyway. June 2024 is among the hottest on record and now July, here at the halfway point, is doing its best to compete. I’m sure some may attribute this unusually hot summer to global warming, although measuring any climatic global change requires decades and not months. That said, who knows, and does it really matter. All we know is that it’s really hot and it’s a signal to all of us to slow down, take it easy and rest. 

Ahh rest, such a beautiful word Just its very mention conditions us to want to stop and take a break from all the usual hustle and bustle, that too often is more like “Brownian movement,” a senseless discharge of energy in place that goes nowhere and achieves nothing. In Mark 6:30-34, Jesus is scheduling a retreat for his apostles and is asking them to slow down, reflect, let go of distractions and shut off the events of the past weeks and just rest… if only for a little while. Rest and use this time to just be.  

Jesus' simple invitation to "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile" is not just an invitation to take an afternoon off or go on vacation although those may be important at this time. His is an invitation to loosen our shackles and climb out of the cages we've constructed from a culturally-fed belief that more is the ticket to happiness and that work is the ticket to more.  

Isn't this is one of the key elements of our Wednesday Scripture discussion and introspection?  It provides a chance to step back from all the daily things that usually consume us so that we might experience God's presence and a sense of peace and gratitude.

 Jesus wants us to rest. He wants us to recognize the pervasive obsessions of our human condition and the rat race we call modern living. He wants us to reflect on how much time we really spend together and actually enjoy what  we’ve worked so hard to attain.  

God wants us to live fully human and have an abundant life. Abundant life doesn't consist of merely more and more. "Abundant" isn't necessarily a quantitative term but a qualitative one. I believe living abundantly requires a zest for life and a passion for elements of our lives we enjoy and bring us pleasure. That said these passions like anything taken to extreme, can be toxic. The events of the past few days and the vitriolic rhetoric leading up to Saturday bears witness to this. I wonder how many people are saying "I never thought it would lead to this." Truthfully, those of us who've lived through some of the dark hours of our Nation's history are not surprised. Hate set in motion has very few outlets.

 So, how do we begin to "dial it down," "lower the heat," to use the already hackneyed media buzz-words on the lips of every politician and media hack? Maybe we might consider shutting down our TV's and computers for a day or turning off our cell phones for a morning or evening, or, saying no to one self-imposed obligation or "routine" appointment...and give thanks for our lives and the beauty in our world. After all, it’s summertime and the living is easy. Fish are jumping and the cotton is high…so hush little children, please hush.+