It Doesn't Take a Village to Raise a Child...It Takes a Family

 

The many beautiful Christmas cards we received portraying serene scenes of a tranquil birth and a simple bucolic life are still fresh in my mind. However, while the Gospels speak little of Jesus’ life or The Holy Family, before Jesus’ public ministry, historical accounts point out that Jesus was born into 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 the many hardships and challenges, I’m struck by how diligent Mary and Joseph were in discharging their parental duties, as they faithfully adhered to the tenets and practices of their religion.

And so, here we have in Luke’s account of Jesus’ presentation, the ceremonial “brit milah” performed on the eight day following his birth. Along with Jesus’ parents, there are two other attendants, Simeon and Anna, who upon seeing Jesus, praise 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 practices 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 religious development. Like the child Jesus, our religious lineage began with the faithful hopes and practices of our parents and others who may have been responsible for our care.

As with most of us, my mother and father were responsible for my attending weekly church services and as with most, I often resisted the call; after all, it was Sunday and I could sleep late or go out and play with those friends, who somehow were “excused” from Sunday services. As for the Church, except for worship, there was little in the way of social activities to keep me coming or hold me. We just went to Church and we returned home. Yes, there were choir practices and altar boy calls and during Lent we attended seasonal services, but it was my parents who established the practices, and saw to it that I followed their lead. I had no choice. So, we went, we listened, we learned and eventually patterns were established as requisite attendance became ingrained.

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.

I will make you fishers of men

When I entered basic training, I was warned never to volunteer for anything or respond to a request for volunteers. It was common for a drill sergeant to “ask” unwitting recruits for “volunteers” for duties that appeared to be easier than what was originally planned. Invariably, these jobs never turned out to easy. In time we learned to avoid eye contact with the inviting sergeant and stand way in the back of the formation to hide and avoid being “volunteered.” Matthew’s (Matthew 4:12-32 )account of how Peter, Andrew, James and John immediately responded to Jesus invitation reminded me of my time in basic training. I’m always amazed as to how quickly the disciples dropped everything and just followed Jesus. I wonder how I would respond to a request from a stranger who asked me to stop what I was doing and follow him. I think I would have tried to avoid eye contact, and if asked to volunteer, make some excuse or at least ask for some time to think about it. After all, how could I possibly stop what I’m doing right now? It's too important. Maybe later.

Could we drop everything, leave our families and communities, and follow someone we didn’t even know? Both Matthew and Mark emphasize the word “immediately" to describe the new recruits’ snap decision. Snap decisions are not always good, but sometimes they are. I think we all have made snap decision that turned out really well. Don’t we sometimes wonder what prompted those decisions?

And so what does Matthew’s Gospel mean to us? Does it mean leaving behind the promise of a steady income in a successful family business? Or, maybe its letting go of things that hold us bound - as symbolized by the fisherman’s nets in our story. It can be any manner of things and will vary from one person to another. While Jesus does not ask everyone to leave everything behind, no one can be a disciple and follow His call to repent without leaving something behind, or without letting go of the nets that keep us ensnared.

Jesus is calling us to a new way of life and asking us to “repent,” or turn the focus of our lives to being God centered. At its most basic level, discipleship means saying “yes” to Jesus and following him wherever he leads. There are times we try to run away and go back to where we were before but like the young recruit trying to be invisible, we can’t hide in the back out of sight. Jesus is relentless, and as often as we try to run and hide, he will find us.

With regard to “snap decisions” or responding to what we are inspired to do, John Powell writes "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)

What are you looking for

 

John takes charge of our readings today (John 1: 29-34) and loudly announces Jesus’ arrival: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, after me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” He then proceeds to validate his preaching as he distinguishes Jesus’ preeminent role: "I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him…this is the Son of God." John is going out of his way to shift the focus from himself to Jesus as if to say this isn’t about me. It’s about this guy. Yeah. There he goes. He’s the one. Him. Lamb of God. John’s work for the time being is was done; now, it’s up to Jesus… and us.

And so Jesus' ministry begins not with a command to silence a demon, as in Mark; nor with a sermon to the crowds who have gathered on a mountain, as in Matthew, and not with a quotation from Isaiah to proclaim his anointing for the year of God's favor, as in Luke. No, it begins with a question: "What are you looking for?" Needless to say this is a question with which we have and continue to wrestle--as individuals, as congregations, as communities. Our answers will have a great deal to do with what we find as well as with the journey we take to get there. What are we seeking? What motivates us? What is it that we really need, not just on the surface, but down deep into the core of our being? As we close out the Christmas season with this blessed feast,  this question is an important one for us to ponder. In a way, we have an advantage over the disciples; we know what’s coming and we know how it all will end. Yet, we continue to ask, what am I looking for?

As if this mind-bending, soul-searching question was not enough, immediately following their “introductions,” the disciples ask another question: "where are you staying?" We know that John is not one to mince words. From our brief encounter with his readings so far, we’ve learned that he, selects his words for what they mean and not necessarily what they say on the surface. So, asking Jesus where he was “staying” has little to do with making inquiry about his local lodging or accommodations. Instead it requires that we probe for what the phrase might say to us. What word might you select as a synonym for “stay?” Continue, dwell, lodge, sojourn, rest, settle, last, endure, persevere, be steadfast, abide, be in close and settled union and indwell? The list is endless and any of the preceding words might work at any given time.

Marcus Borg writes in the Heart of Christianity, “that the Christian life is not about believing or a set of beliefs, but it’s about a deepening relationship with the one in whom we live and move and have our being. Paying attention to this relationship transforms us.” So, if we choose to interpret John’s question to mean our asking about an intimate, enduring relationship with God, the word “abide” has particular meaning that fits. We surrender our ego to God as the Word becomes flesh and abides in us, and sows the seed of transformation, and we are born into a new life.

Putting on the Mind of Christ

I wonder how many of us celebrate 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 Matthew 3: 13-17 and 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 acknowledged with just a Gospel reading. Yet, along with the Epiphany, it is a celebration intrinsic to the incarnation of God. Maybe we should wait before we put away our Christmas manger scenes. 

I suspect that for many Christians there is a puzzle about baptism. If you ask people why they want their children baptized many would be hard pressed to explain. Do we do it for the grandparents?  Is it a cultural act?  Is it a “ticket to admission” for a particular church or pre-qualification for communion? How many of us were raised believing that it was intended to “wash away” the stain of original sin?

For many of us, the sacrament instills a sense of God with us and in us that is essential to our very nature and being. While baptism reminds us of our being united as part of the Christian community, we were invested in God’s Kingdom long before any sprinkling of water or liturgical incantation took place. 

When in this Gospel John protests at the notion of baptizing Jesus, Jesus responds with “for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." In so doing Jesus makes it clear that it is our birth rite and that he aligns himself with all people and not just the followers of Moses as “the chosen ones.”

So, while we are marked as a member of God’s Kingdom, baptism enrolls us in this most “inclusive” of all clubs. “In a very profound way we are in fact all 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 of God of which we are all temples, make 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) 

Baptism is not about the forgiveness of sins although it is about repentance which in the true sense of the word, inspires us to redirect our lives by “putting on the mind of Christ” in all that we do. As such, our identity by the power of the Holy Spirit, is created through worship and practice, so that we might know and feel the sense of God in one another. This deep experience forms our identity as those who will be known by our love for one another and not defined by any denomination. This is being in “the mind of Christ.”

One Solitary Life…

 
He was born in an obscure village
The child of a peasant woman
He grew up in another obscure village
Where he worked in a carpenter shop
Until he was thirty when public opinion turned against him
He never wrote a book
He never held an office
He never went to college
He never visited a big city
He never travelled more than two hundred miles
From the place where he was born
He did none of the things
Usually associated with greatness
He had no credentials but himself

 
He was only thirty three
His friends ran away
One of them denied him
He was turned over to his enemies
And went through the mockery of a trial
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves
While dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing
The only property he had on earth
 
When he was dead
He was laid in a borrowed grave
Through the pity of a friend
 
[Twenty] centuries have come and gone
And today Jesus is the central figure of the human race
And the leader of mankind’s progress
All the armies that have ever marched
All the navies that have ever sailed
All the parliaments that have ever sat
All the kings that ever reigned put together
Have not affected the life of mankind on earth
As powerfully as that one solitary life

(Dr James Allan Francis © 1926.)

Don't Ask...It's a Mystery

We celebrate those events in the life of Christ in the Gospel as stories that are meant to be lived as we are inspired to live them. I’ve come to the realization that it’s not a mystery when I really understand a concept and feel that I can explain it. Yet, there is an undeniable urge to let our egos run rampant and do our best to try to explain that which defies explanation

Somehow, the mistrust of all that has been handed down to us has led to the failure of the imagination, evidenced by language that is thoroughly comfortable and unchallenging. How many times do we quickly turn the page because something we read in scripture challenges our ability to fully comprehend its meaning… instead of just letting it rest long enough in our hearts for it to speak to us without words?

So here we are in the third week of Advent as we focus on the Annunciation according to Matthew (Matthew 1:18-24), 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 would be confined to man’s limited intellect and his feeble language to communicate His message? Do we not see how metaphor and poetry reveal meaning, not explanation on a deep personal level, unique to each of us who are willing to open our hearts and just listen?

I remember visiting the Church of my youth at Christmas and found myself being drawn to the Crèche. I stared at the statue of the Baby Jesus and was moved by the scene. Of course I knew that this charming bucolic setting was not really the way it was, yet the Divine Incarnation could not be contained as it spoke the beautiful reason for the Blessed season.

When we allow God’s love to break though into our consciousness and 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?

For many of us mystery became an adversary; unknowing became a weakness. The contemplative spiritual life is an ongoing reversal of this adjustment. It is a slow and sometimes painful process of becoming ‘little children’ again in which we first make friends with mystery and finally fall in love again with it. And in that love we find an ever increasing freedom to be who we really are in an identity that is continually emerging and never defined. We are freed to join the dance of life in fullness without having a clue about what the steps are…Confusion happens when mystery is an enemy and we feel we must solve it to master our destinies. And ignorance is not knowing that we do not know. In the liberation of the night, we are freed from having to figure things out and we find delight in knowing that we do not know. (Mystery & Freedom, May, Dark Night p.133)

Who Do You Say That I Am

This week’s account of John in Matthew 11:2-11 is quite a contrast to last week’s Gospel. What happened to the outspoken firebrand, the radical Messianic prophet? He attracted large crowds as he fearlessly rebuked religious leaders with his preaching. While his arrogant, self-assured confidence made us a little uncomfortable, we were eager to hear what he had to say about the Advent of the One. But this week, we see a different John, pacing his small prison cell, wondering if his ministry was all in vain and having his doubts about whether Jesus truly was the long awaited Messiah. By all accounts, Jesus was not measuring up to his expectations. Desperate for some validation, he manages to send a messenger to put the question directly to Jesus: “Are you the one?”

Rather than answer John’s question directly, Jesus cites all that he has done and dispatches the messenger:

Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.

Matthew gives us reason to suggest that John was aware of Jesus ministry and his works. But was he looking for something more spectacular? Were Jesus’ works a little too mundane for a Messiah? What was it that he wanted to hear from Jesus? Maybe John’s sights were set on a different kind of Messiah, one based on his concept of what a Messiah is, because he hadn’t prepared himself to see God at work His presence in the quiet things.

As a child I sang in a boys’ choir every Sunday and on Holy Days. I remember singing the beautiful Magnificat, the Canticle of Mary, in May and at Christmas time. We sang the hymn in Latin. However, I was confused by our choir director, Sister Henrietta’s translation: the haunting melody and cadence and its sweet sounding words, albeit meaningless to us, seemed to betray the theme of a humble virgin’s song of praise. It sounded more like a revolutionary battle cry:

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.

Was this the powerful Messiah John was expecting? Perhaps Jesus’ answer to John says it best: What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? And yet, John was right, the Messiah was all about dethroning the mighty but Jesus was all about exalting the lowly, or filling the hungry. Jesus was interested in deeds and not words, Go and tell John what you hear and see. Jesus was all about repentance, a metanoia…turning the mind around. His revolution was about social change…the fruits worthy of repentance.

And so I wonder, are we any different from John? What limits have we placed on our imagination, on our expectations? Sure the beautiful Church services, with its inspirational sermons, hymns and fellowship at Christmas all serve to create a sense of God, but do we continue to carry that sense of God with us when we leave the Church and tend to our day-to-day activities in the other 167 hours of the week? Have we prepared ourselves to look for God in the ordinary people, places and things of our lives, in the ordinary nickels and dimes of our lives?

We do not come to know God by contemplating Him in secure spiritual isolation or by discussing the scripture every Wednesday night. No, God comes to us when we provide shelter for the homeless or offer a cup of water to the thirsty, in either a Waterford glass or Dixie cup.