…And Jesus Wept

As I read the Gospel for this upcoming Sunday, I thought about a dear friend who died a few years ago while we were out of the country. I awoke on Christmas Eve morning before dawn and despite limited phone or internet access, I managed to get into my email. My eyes went immediately to a forwarded message from John Marione announcing the death of Steve King. I sat motionless for a while in disbelief; then tears eventually became sobs as I felt the pain of loss. I thought about his young widow, Kathy and his two boys, Matthew and Andrew and felt their pain as I wondered how they were going to manage without Steve. Then I thought of the guys in the men’s group and our colleagues in Scripture study and considered their pain. It troubled me to be so far away and unable commiserate with them. I felt a need 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, bring comfort.

I suppose something about the account of Lazarus in our readings (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 synonymous with revival and new life even beyond the bounds of religion.

So why did I make the connection to the Lazarus story and the death of Steve? This Gospel speaks to us about many things however, this time, I was drawn to the compassion Jesus had for Mary and Martha and especially Mary as she wept inconsolably. The meaning of “compassion” as depicted by Jesus in this story, eclipses “pity” or “empathy” in that it implies the actual pain of the mourner, as if it was his. Is there anything more human than the desire to want to console 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.  

When Jesus saw 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 why do we feel as deeply as we do for another’s joy and pain? Father Ronald Haney writes in God WithinYou that “the God dwelling within each of you will raise your love to a level above mere human affection; it will make your love sacred, creative and curative. This love between each other is God...it’s the essence of what Jesus meant when he said Love one another as I have loved you.” 

Haney says that the mystery of the Divine Indwelling may be best expressed by 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

Seeing is Believing

Spring is only a few days away, but are we really convinced? Temperatures are still hovering in the winter range and although we’ve had a mild winter with a blessedly snowless January and February, March reminds that it’s still winter, true to form with its freezing temps and biting winds. Yet, there is more light as daylight lengthens, as the lawn shows some signs of green in response to the light. The all-knowing birds have once again begun to move about busily at the feeder, as their “calendar,” not ours, is precisely aligned with the universe. They know it’s spring. Yet here I sit, layered in warm clothing, watching as the woodpecker drills holes in the Atlas cedar, and mines the rising sap. He knows what the light reveals. And what about the crocus, making its presence felt in response to the light. What do these beacons of nature know that I don’t know?  I question and wonder, can it really be spring?

In our Gospel (John 9: 1-41), John reveals Jesus as the light in the darkness, calling forth life. And as witnessed by the world outside my window, all life springs from the light as it lengthens on its way to summer. In this ambivalent month: temperate one day, cold another, the light warms the soil and beckons dormant seeds to “life’s” renewal. March knows instinctively what we intellectually know but find hard to believe.

We can deny the season but we cannot deny the light’s return. Seeing is believing…right? In our Gospel, Jesus restores a blind man’s sight. Yet, the Pharisees are unwilling to accept what they see, and ask a barrage of challenging questions: can he really see; is this the same man who was just blind? They ask his parents if he was born blind; and how did Jesus open his eyes. What more can the man say; he was blind, Jesus gave him sight and now he can see. Still not wanting to believe what they have seen and heard, the Pharisees drive the man away…out of their sight.

Perhaps the unwillingness to believe in the obvious may seem an exaggeration by John to make a point, but is it? Sometimes, despite what we see and hear, we find difficult to embrace. The inability to let go and put our egos aside is part of our human condition. It can be argued that believing and understanding are the Provence of the intellect, while knowing is an intuitive part of our being. We know air, we don’t believe in it. So, what does it take for His light to penetrate our hearts and to just let go and accept without question? Isn’t it curious how all of nature knows the light and responds without question, and yet we can’t let go of our wintered-over hearts and just open our eyes to the light of new growth and life?

And the riverbank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart

And the riverbank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart

I am he, the one who is speaking with you.

 

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.

This is My Beloved Son…Listen to Him

Can you remember a time when you felt an undeniable prompt calling you to pursue a goal or an activity that was not in keeping with your routine or lifestyle?  I wonder how many of us know when we have heard and responded to an inner voice nudging us relentlessly. I can remember how I was "inspired" to volunteer on a regular basis in a nursing home; bring the Eucharist to hospitalized patients, create music for a meditative prayer service and moderate a weekly bible study. I had no intention to do any of these thing but out of the blue they became an integral part of my existence for years. And while, with the exception of bible study, I miss them all very much, that was then this is now.

While reference to "a calling" is commonly associated with clergy, we don’t often consider that we’re called to a career or a secular vocation or even volunteering too. But, why not? I pose this question because the story of the Transfiguration in Matthew 17:1-9 reminds us to listen to and look for God’s will in all we do. And just as the spectacular events of the transfiguration blinded Peter, James and John, we too can be distracted by the “noise” of our busy lives. We need to set aside those distractions and listen to that inner voice that seems to resonate above the noise and follow. 

In our gospel Peter in all his excitement, was eager to do something to memorialize this transformative event even before he had even processed what he had seen or  just transpired. We feel like saying to Peter "Would you please be still and just listen!"  While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” 

Like Peter we have moments of insight and moments of denial. We too, fall down in fear and get up again to move ahead in confidence. Isn’t this a pattern that shapes our lives? We identify with Peter. This story is as much about Peter and Jesus as it is about us as we are asked to listen and to hear his voice and know God’s will for us. 

 In these past weeks Matthew has called our attention to Jesus’ humanity in which we share a common bond. In this week’s gospel, Matthew reveals Jesus divinity. Just as we share in Jesus’ humanity, we also share in his divinity. We must listen as we are called if we are to be transformed and become disciples of Jesus and 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 Lenten Journey

 

 Lent is an important part of our journey each year. Every step we take has been walked at one time in the gospels. We know that this journey leads us to the cross; to the tomb, and blessedly “ends” with Easter, (just as our lives and journey begin again). In our readings for next Sunday, Matthew4 :1-11, 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 challenges, temptations or tests mean to us in our lives today? There are questions we answer with our lips, and those we answer with our lives.

I suppose we might, for the sake of discussion, characterize someone on a journey, as being either a tourist or a traveler. The tourist rides the crest of the journey, not bothering to delve into the experience; he makes his way with all the comforts of home, ensuring that his experiences are familiar and safe. After his trip, the tourist returns home with photos, souvenirs, and pleasant superficial memories. But how much did he absorb? How has the journey changed his life?

On the other hand, a traveler is one who is on a journey to someplace new, even if he’s been there before! His journey into the unknown is embarked upon in hope that something new will be revealed.  A traveler leaves his “comfort zone” and the attachments of his routine back home in search of something unfamiliar. Will he be in some way change or even transformed?

Perhaps our lesson  as to how Jesus’ temptations relate to our journey as a traveler is for us to leave our comfort zone and share that which we have learned during our time in the desert. The traveler on a quest to meet God, soon learns that he will find Him in unexpected places, among people who are foreign to him. As an act of faith, a traveler as with Jesus, places himself in the hands of God and surrenders to his will and the power of the Holy Spirit.

 

 

Love your enemies

 

The teachings of Jesus and the example set by Mahatma Gandhi were the models that inspired Martin Luther King Jr’s practice of non-violence as a means of effective protest.  Just as Jesus reinterpreted the biblical laws for the audience and culture of his day, King implemented modern practice for his contemporary audience. For King and others, Jesus' words were not meant to be taken literally as he understood their intent, and while not all Christians have followed his example, King replaced a natural inclination to retaliate with temperance and love...Enlightenment

Jesus’s intent in his own words were not to abandon God's Law handed down to Moses, but rather re-interpret them in light of contemporary realities. This did not lessen the challenge of ancient biblical texts for modern society as Jesus' own life was their incarnate fulfillment made relevant by his words and his behavior. ( Matthew 5:38-48)

It was common practice to retaliate for harm done whether intentional and unintentional. This was supported by Old Testament readings and by the ancient Babylonian Code of Hammurabi, an "eye for an eye").  But Jesus admonishes followers not to oppose the evil doer violently but resist and “turn the other cheek.” Jesus alternative strategy was intended to overcome evil with good which had a paradoxical effect in that what was perceived as weakness, humiliated and shamed those in power. Many of us old enough to remember the reaction to Dr. King’s behavior by those “in power” who violently opposed him, recall how the oppressor who embodied the love of power was overcome by the power of love.

Loving unconditionally and forgiving one's enemy are not just models for our behavior but on a broader scale, representative of the perfection of God and his divine love.  As such, Jesus provides an intriguing image to capture the meaning of this quality of God and one that God's followers should strive to emulate. As a tree provides shade for all who sit below, God provides for the just and the unjust, and so we must treat others without bias whether "good" or "evil.

Walking in God's Ways

 

In the words of the pastor and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “the point of God’s outpouring of grace in the first place is to shape us into the people we we’re meant to be from the beginning. When we ignore the demand for heartfelt obedience to God’s commands, we turn all that God has done for us into ‘cheap grace.” (Matthew 5: 13-37)
We’re told that Martin Luther originally had a hard time trying to live up to the demands of the Old Testament, to the point of literally beating himself at times. Finally, he discovered that salvation was by 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 they did on paper, we do in fact. We simply omit those portions of the Bible from actual use. I think this tends to apply especially to the “law” with its 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. They are a more detailed announcement of the heart of Jesus’ message: the kingdom of heaven is at hand. If you wonder what the kingdom of heaven is about, look at the beatitudes. It means blessing and 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 the commands from the heart. That would mean that it’s not just killing as an egregious offense, it also means avoiding the anger and hatred that leads us to devalue the life of another enough to justify killing. In reality, Jesus didn’t make it easier to obey God’s commands, 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 from The Waking Dreamer, Alan Brehm, “Light for the World,” February 12, 2014)