1 Kings 17:10-16

Hebrews 9:24-28

Mark 12:38-44

No one said it would be easy.  Jesus didn’t when he invited those first ones to come and follow him.  He didn’t when the crowds and the disciples gathered around him and he taught them what being a disciple would mean.  And if the Good News is being proclaimed with sincerity and truth, you won’t come away from the preaching saying there is no big deal here.  Much less will you think that anybody can do this, be a disciple, and go on living life as it was lived before you met Jesus.

By now in this Church’s Year, having journeyed this far with the Gospel of Mark, you realize that the Year is coming to a conclusion with the celebration of the Feast of Christ the King in just a couple of weeks.  The questions you have to ask yourself are: How have I been changed?  How am I different from what I was when the Year began? How you respond to the Liturgy of the Word for this Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time will tell you a lot.  If you have sat under the Word each Sunday of this year and been open to it, you will notice a change – provided, of course, that you remember where you were inside when you began the trek.  And regardless of where you are at this point, remember that conversion is a life-long process.  God’s grace and the Holy Spirit will not be finished with you until you breathe your last in this world and hasten to the Kingdom that is dawning.

How much do you trust in God?  What place does God occupy in your life?  That’s not easy to say, unless you have been through a period of trial.  The widow of Zarephath, in the first reading, has been living through a season of famine and draught when Elijah happens upon her as she is gathering sticks for a fire to be laid in her hearth.  Widows, remember, are among the most vulnerable and dependent people in the Hebrew Scriptures.  Often their very survival rests on the kindness and generosity of neighbors.  This widow expects to use the fire for the preparation of one last meal for herself and her son and then await death.  That meal will be a hearth-cake made from the last bit of oil and flour in her possession.  Did we say she was desperate?

Elijah, the prophet of God, asks her to first make a cake for him and bring him some water to go with it, then she can tend to her son’s and her own needs.  When she hesitates, Elijah tells her to be confident: The Lord, the God of Israel, says, The jar of flour shall not go empty; nor the jug of oil run dry until the day when the Lord sends rain upon the earth. Her decision turns about her trust in the Prophet’s word and in his God.  Remember, Zarephath is the god Baal’s territory.  The Widow might not even know the God of Israel.  But she trusts, does as she is asked, serves Elijah, and neither the flour nor the oil runs out before the drought ends.

This reading will resonate with you only if you have known difficult times and have had nowhere to turn.  Have you known what it is like to have your faith tested to the breaking point?  Then you understand the widow’s desperation and the magnificence of her response.  This reading challenges all of us to trust and believe in the God of the Israelites, and to believe that this God has sent Jesus who is the Bread of our Lives.  This reading challenges us to remember that what will strengthen us along the way is the Bread that is given to us each time we celebrate Eucharist.  That will never fail.  Of course you do realize that if we take and eat the Body what will be expected of us in return is that we will allow ourselves to be broken and distributed until all have been fed.

The widow is the link between the first reading and the gospel where we experience the witness of another widow.  But before that we are confronted by Jesus and have to ask what kind of witness are we giving as Church.  As often is the case in the gospel, the scribes are held up before us as examples of how we are not to live if we are disciples.  Clearly these people were stuck on themselves, as we would say today, and gloried in their image of bounty and success.  They loved to be praised and never felt that praise to be an exaggeration.  They exploited those they should have served – the widows and probably the orphans too.  They are not bent on serving but on building up their own fortunes and living the good life.

Please God, that does not resonate with your own experience of Church.  The condemnation with which Jesus threatens the scribes reflects that that awaits those who exploit positions in the Church.  Ambition has no place among the baptized who are all called to live their priesthood, to live a life of service and ministry to those who are in need.  We must never forget that we are a servant Church.  Our greatest ambition in the Church is to be feet-washers, the lesson we learned on Holy Thursday.  Any other ambition is fraught with danger.  Can you hear that?  It’s okay if you cannot.  But sit with the idea.  Let it wash over you and wear down your resistance.  That’s how grace works.

So we come to another widow, this time in the area of the Temple treasury.  Apparently it was the custom for the people to make their offerings there the way we make ours when the basket is passed during the time of the preparation of the gifts at Sunday Mass.  As is true today, so was it in our Lord’s time.  Some of the wealthy love to be conspicuous in their offering.  The wealthy would dump their coins with loud clamber to the amazement of those standing around.  Jesus notes that they gave from their surplus.  In other words, they had plenty more where that came from.  Do you know that if all the families in a parish tithed, that parish would have plenty to take care of the administration of the parish and support missions of outreach as well?  There are parishes where such giving is the norm and they can attest to what I am saying here.  Do you give from surplus or from substance?  Just a question to ponder and about which to pray.  Then, when you are ready, ask, what is the Lord expecting of his disciples?

And this is where the widow comes in.  No one in the Treasury area is paying any attention to her.  She has no celebrity in the community.  No one clamors after her asking for her autograph.  She has no significance to those who should be giving her primacy of place among them.  In the midst of the hubbub, she makes her way to the offering box and drops in two small coins, all she had, her whole livelihood. And Jesus says: This poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. She gave of her substance.  Do you think she was a believer in God and trusted in God’s promises?

Nearing the end of the Church’s Year as we are, The Liturgy of the Word confronts us and dares us to consider where we are on our faith walk.  Have we grown in our desire to imitate Jesus, to live our baptismal priesthood?  Whose giving does ours imitate – the wealthy scribes or the poor widow’s?  Have we grown as a servant people?  Are all welcome when we assemble?  Is the love in the assembly’s welcome tangible?

We gather to celebrate Eucharist.  Jesus gives his very substance to be food for our journey.  There is promise in that.  Each Eucharist makes the whole Church present and all are fed.  This meal foreshadows the banquet that Christ is preparing for us at the Lord’s Table in heaven.  Now if you are wondering who can do what Jesus expects?  Who can live this kind of life of charity and service?  The answer probably is, very few, maybe none, on their own.  But, remember what Paul said when he pondered that question in his own life: I can do all things in him who strengthens me.  All we have to do is let go of our fears and trust that Jesus meant it when he said he would be with us until the world ends.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14

1 John 3:1-3

Matthew 5:1-12a

It is said that the experience of the extended family is not all that common today.  Many children are being raised in single-parent households.  Those growing up with both parents often have little or no experience of their relatives who live in other parts of the country or the world.  In the consciousness of most youngsters the day will dawn when they become aware of a desire to know their story.  From where did they come?  Who were their ancestors?  What were their stories?  Something about the human condition demands context.  There is an innate sense that no man is an island. No woman is, either.

That may be why we celebrate the Solemnity of All Saints, so that we can know the stories of our ancestors in the faith, and knowing the stories, be stronger in our desire to be their imitators.  After all, every saint became one in exactly the same way.  Each one imitated Christ.  Isn’t it odd that no two saints have matching stories?  Each one is unique.

Schoolchildren often times as part of this celebration of All Saints will be encouraged to come to Mass in costume, dressed like the saints whose names they bear or like saints they greatly admire.  It is a particular blessing if, as part of the preparation for the children’s celebration, they research or are told the story of the saints whose costumes they will be wearing.

What is the danger in this celebration?  The danger is that too ethereal a picture will be painted resulting in the saints seeming distant, remote, and only accidentally human.  Who can be like that? Who would want to be like that?  The fact of the matter is the saints are our brothers and sisters in the faith.  They are flesh and blood as we are.  They knew what it meant to struggle with faith, to experience temptation and even sin, and to doubt.  The struggle is an important part of their stories, just as our struggles will one day be important parts of our stories.  Of course they are saints because they continued on The Way to the very end.  One day, please God, so will we be if we do the same.

Don’t miss the leads in the first reading from the Book of Revelation.  The writer recounts a vision into glory.  144, 000 from every tribe of Israel stand around the throne of God.  Don’t make the mistake that some fundamentalists have of thinking that that number exhausts the count of those who will make it to heaven.  That is not the point.  In the writer’s mind the number is huge, limitless really, representing those from the New Israel caught up in glory.  Then later in the reading, notice those in white robes, those who have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb. These are the baptized that entered the Waters to die to sin and to everything that is not of Christ, to rise from those waters reborn to live Christ’s own life.  And they were faithful to the end and have received the reward for their labors in Christ.

If there is a verse of Scripture that should be committed to memory and repeated like a mantra it is the verse from the second reading from the First Letter of John.  Beloved we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. If that is too long, stick to the first part and say it over and over again, especially in times of difficulty and trial.  Beloved we are God’s children now. Or if the situation becomes desperate for you, it’s okay to put it in the singular.  It remains true.  I am God’s child now.

I had the privilege of visiting Uganda and while there of visiting the place where the Ugandan Martyrs died.  I read the stories of the 23 young men, some newly baptized, some still catechumens, and of the gruesome, torturous, slow and agonizing deaths that one by one, in isolation, they died.  Read their stories for yourself if you are curious about the details.  My point in mentioning them here is that to a person, each one sang the praises of Jesus and the Father, convinced of where they were going, as each one slowly breathed his last.  How can anyone do that?  Only by being convinced that they had washed their robes white in the Blood of the Lamb and are God’s children now.  And there was not a doubt in their minds about what they would become.

Not every person is called to a martyr’s death.  That is not the only path to sainthood.  On the other hand, you never know.  I always remember St. Thomas More’s words to console his wife while he was in confinement in the Tower of London: This is not the stuff of which martyrs are made. This is the same man who, as he knelt at the block and as he lifted his beard over it asked the man about to behead him to be mindful of the beard since it had no part in the treason.  Who can do that?  Only one who is convinced that s/he is God’s child now.  Only one who is convinced that God’s love is unconditional and forever.

No Feast or Solemnity is celebrated just so that we can look back and be nostalgic about the past.  We gather to celebrate Eucharist, the word means to give thanks, and to remember, which in this context means to make present.  We enter into Mystery to be caught up and transformed in the ongoing process of conversion, of dying with Jesus and rising to live in his resurrection.  And we celebrate that we might be sent with thankful hearts to continue the tradition.

It has been said that the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel is the Magna Carta of the New Testament.  Or, if you prefer, the Constitution of the New Way.  Jesus preached The Sermon on the Mount, seated as one with authority and as the new Moses, the new Law Giver.

Twice-told tales have a way of becoming familiar and, therefore, lessening their impact.  You are not likely to gasp as the words of the Beatitudes wash over you.  In the midst of the Assembly standing to hear the proclamation there probably won’t be many who will be in jaw-dropping amazement wondering if s/he heard what s/he thought s/he heard.  There may even be many who know the Beatitudes by heart.  I hate to sound like a naysayer, but if that dulls the impact, it is not for the good.  The fact is that all those conditions we think of as deplorable are lauded in the Beatitudes.  Blessed are the poor.  Blessed are those mourning.  Blessed are the meek.  Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness. These conditions are blessed because they create in the sufferer a longing that only God can satisfy, an emptiness that only Christ can fill.  They are conditions that look to heaven for deliverance and forge a desire for the coming of God’s reign of justice and peace.  These blessed statements apply to those who are powerless in their circumstances. The remaining speak to those with power.

Blessed are the merciful.  Blessed are the clean of heart.  Blessed are the peacemakers.  Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness. In the midst of these positions of power are those with clean hearts.  What’s that all about?  Much more than chastity, which may be included here, the clean of heart are those who are single minded in their purpose, untainted by those values common in the world; they are those who do not lust after position, power, or prestige, those who do not give free rein to their tempers even if their tempers are short, those who are willing to imitate Christ in the pouring out of self to lift up the broken hearted, to give of their plenty that the poor might have something to eat and a place of shelter at day’s end, to work for justice and peace, to reverence the dignity of every living person and so condemn the unjust taking of any human being’s life, to create the bonds of love that bring about the realization of the human family.

Just when you are beginning to relax and foster images of all those who can do something about the evils in our times and others’ sufferings and admitting to their being blessed, Jesus turns from talking about them and addresses you. Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.

The challenge before us is to take the Gospel seriously and to live as members of the Body of Christ.  Just as quickly as the proverbial blink of an eye, each one of us has been mandated to be merciful, clean of heart, a peacemaker. We’re urged to identify with the poor, those who mourn, the meek, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.  We’re blessed only to the extent that we imitate Jesus so that our lives make uncomfortable those who exploit and demean others, those who deny the dignity of even the most abject, those who practice sexism, racism, or any of the other isms that debase and dehumanize.  Those kinds of witnesses down through our Church’s history often died martyrs’ deaths.  And so might we if we are faithful to the calling.  We address those who have gone before us as saints and celebrate them today. One day, if we are faithful to the end and witness as they did, we will be in their number and the Solemnity of All Saints will be ours as well.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Jeremiah 31:7-9

Hebrews 5:1-6

Mark 10:46-52

The end of October brings with it the astounding realization that we are nearing the end of another Church Year.  The current Year began with the First Sunday of Advent on November 30, 2008.  On that Sunday the first words we heard from the Gospel of Mark were: Be watchful!  Be alert!  You do not know when the time will come. So began this journey we have been on Sunday after Sunday, intensified each time we gathered for the Liturgy of the Word and heard the Good News according to Mark proclaimed and had it broken open for us in the homily.  Each Sunday we had the opportunity to stand naked and vulnerable before the Word and let it penetrate our hearts to draw us deeper in relationship with Jesus with whom we journeyed as he transformed us and drew us to new life.  Our faith was challenged as, too was our hope, and we were challenged to live in love the way Jesus does.  There is something about faith that assures us that promises given will be fulfilled.  Along the way this year, were you watchful?  Were you alert?  What realizations crystallized?  How did you have to change?  How different are you today from the person you were last December?

Imagine yourself in that assembly before Jeremiah in today’s first reading.  There needs to be a context, of course, for his words to have their impact.  Judah, i.e., Israel, has been in exile and subjected to many trials during the captivity.  Many of their number wandered away from the Law and followed the ways of the pagan gods of Babylon.  Some were faithful, many, in fact.  Years later they were released and allowed to return to Jerusalem to reclaim and reconstruct their holy city.  Huge is the task before them.  And Jeremiah does his part to encourage them by that it is the Lord who has done this just as the Lord promised.  They departed in tears, but I will console them and guide them; I will lead them to brooks of water, on a level road, so that none shall stumble.  I am a father to Israel; Ephraim (a tribe of Israel) is my first-born. With God no situation is hopeless.  God, whose love is constant and unconditional, will not disappoint.  Do you believe that? It takes time to come to that conclusion.  Don’t despair if you are not there yet.  That is what this journey of formation with Jesus is about for us.

In the gospel we meet Bartimaeus, a blind man.  Mark tells us Bartimaeus is the son of Timaeus.  That kind of specificity usually means that the one cited is a believer.  Bartimaeus is the son of a disciple, not yet a believer himself.  He is in desperate straits, begging by the roadside when he hears the ruckus as Jesus and his disciples and a sizable crowd pass by on their way out of Jericho.  Notice that it is Jesus with disciples, i.e., those who have made a faith-decision about Jesus, and a sizable crowd, i.e., those who have not yet made up their minds about him.  Bartimaeus makes an embarrassing scene as he tries in desperation to get Jesus’ attention.  Jesus, son of David, have pity on me. Some try to quiet Bartimaeus, but Jesus, hearing the plaintive cries, says to hose near him: Call him.

This is a very important detail not to be missed.  Bartimaeus does not come to Jesus alone but is brought to Jesus by those who can see who urge him not to be afraid. After all, it is Jesus who calls.  (What does that say about our faith communities?  See the implications for the RCIA process?)  Another important detail might be missed if we do not listen attentively.  (Bartimaeus) threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. He is willing to give up everything to come to Jesus.  It is much more than a garment that Bartimaeus gave up.  The cloak provides shade from the intense sun and shelter from the rain.  It is his tent under which he sleeps through the night.  More than likely, the cloak is all he has.

Have you ever wondered how you would deal with it were you to find that magic jug, rub it, and have the emerging Genie tell you, you have three wishes that the Genie will grant you?  What would you ask for?  Last week Jesus asked James and John what they wanted.  They asked for the most prominent positions in Jesus’ kingdom and withered when Jesus revealed the implications of their request, that they would have to drink of the cup from which he will drink and be baptized in his baptism.  In other words, following Jesus will not be about power and position, comfort and wealth, it will be about the pouring out of self in service and imitating Jesus in his dying.  Following Jesus will entail a cross.

This week Jesus asks Bartimaeus: What do you want me to do for you? And Bartimaeus’ answer is simple and straightforward with a second title for Jesus.  Master, I want to see. It would be easy to conclude that Bartimaeus is simply asking for the restoration of his sight.  But that would not necessarily result in his being able to see. Something deeper is happening here.  And it is all summed up in the terse conclusion to this pericope.  Immediately (Bartimaeus) received his sight and followed him on the way. Bartimaeus is changed to the core.  Whatever had kept him from sharing the faith of his father, whatever hurdle he could not get over, whatever it was that blindness falls away and he sees Jesus as Lord. He follows Jesus on the way that means he is willing to go where the way leads.  He will drink from the cup from which Jesus will drink.  He will be baptized in Jesus’ baptism.  Jesus will be his all-in-all.  You notice that nothing is said about Bartimaeus’ going back to pick up his cloak again.

It is important to ask yourself where you are in this gospel.  With which character do you most closely identify?  Jesus?  A member of the crowd?  A disciple?  Bartimaeus?  If the truth be known and we are honest with ourselves, we will have to admit that we can identify with each character.  There is something of each one in each of us.  The hardest to admit is our identity with Jesus.  Our pride gets in the way.  Not humility, but pride.  We’ll talk about that later.

We have to remember that as long as we are on the way we are in the process of conversion.  That’s why I asked at the start, where were you in your faith life last November when we began this journey with Mark’s Gospel.  That is why some days we wonder if we believe yet, if by our lives we can say Jesus is Lord of my life.  On other days something wells within us, we call it grace and the life of the Spirit, and we know we believe, that we are disciples willing to follow and try to imitate Jesus.  But what about Bartimaeus?  For that we have to journey back to the day we first knew we believed.  For many of us, that involved a struggle.  There were things we had to work through, life-decisions we had to make, emptiness we had to admit, cloaks we had to toss aside.  The day we recognized that we could not do this alone, that we needed others to support us and encourage us along the way because there was something preventing us from being able to see and, therefore, to believe, that was the day we were Bartimaeus.  So were we the day we had to let go of everything and let Jesus be Lord of our lives.

A couple of final points in conclusion.  The Church very wisely sees our faith journey as communal.  That is what distinguishes the Catholic (communal) Way from the Protestant (individual) Way.  We believe that the Church is the people of God.  We are united in the process of ongoing conversion along the way.  We assemble around the tables of the Word and of the Eucharist to be nourished and transformed, just as the bread and wine are, into the Body of Christ.  The assembly is the Body of Christ just as is the Eucharist.  And we are sent, as the Body of Christ, to continue Christ’s work until he comes again.

The RCIA process is a glorious expression of these convictions.  The one seeking faith comes to the community and in the midst of the community experiences what it means to worship and know the love of God.  It is through the experience of the community that they come to know what it means to be a servant church.  Through the community they experience forgiveness and reconciliation, a new faith and the renewal of hope.  The community supports the seekers through prayer and example.  The seekers come to know that the Church is always there for them even as they come to know that all are welcome here.  It is important that the seeker make the full journey, i.e., journey along the way through an entire Church Year.

Then, in that most holy of nights, when all the old has been consumed in the fire and from that fire came the light of the Easter Candle that proclaims Christ risen and glorious, surrounded by the faithful, Bartimaeus enters the waters to die there and to rise from there identified with Christ to live as Christ until he enters Christ’s glory forever.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Isaiah 53:10-11

Hebrews 4:14-16

Mark 10:35-45

Have you noticed that for the last several weeks the Liturgy of the Word has been becoming increasingly difficult to hear without our wanting to make accommodations so that they will be more palatable?  The readings are hard to take and increasingly demanding.  Wouldn’t you think that neophytes and those struggling with faith should hear gentler readings?  And what about those who are thinking about being Baptized, those catechumens on the way to the Font?  Shouldn’t they be spared?  Their journey is difficult enough without their having to see the full implications of what being Jesus’ disciples will mean for them.

It’s clear that Jesus is not interested in selling a product.  Were he, he would paint a brighter picture replete with rewards and benefits for those who would sign up.  Watch the way products are pitched today.  Pay attention and you will wonder how you have lived life this far without whatever is being touted.  And look how often the sellers are celebrities.  Doesn’t their having the product make it all the more attractive?  But that is not what Jesus does.

Bette Davis, in All About Eve, invited those present for that evening to fasten their seatbelts because it was going to be a bumpy ride.  Annie Dillard opined that seatbelts and safety equipment ought to be distributed to everyone at the doors of the church as they came together to celebrate Liturgy.  What if it (the Liturgy) worked this time?  The readings for this Sunday are among the most demanding we will hear, outside those of Holy Week, and should leave us most vulnerable to their transforming power as we move into the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

The Lord was pleased to crush him in his infirmity. The reading is taken from the fourth of the Suffering Servant songs in the Book of Isaiah.  We will hear these words again on Passion Sunday and Good Friday.  How does the Servant’s suffering and that of God’s son Jesus please the Lord?  God is pleased because of their link to the scapegoat in the Book of Leviticus.  As did the goat sent out into the wilderness laden with the people’s sins, so do the Servant and Jesus bear the sins of the many.  It is not pleasure in suffering that the Lord takes, but in their willingness to sacrifice themselves and be atonement for others’ sins.  Remember the words: By their stripes you were healed?

When you are discouraged in your faith-walk, go back to today’s brief second reading.  So often popular religiosity of the evangelical type paints a picture of Jesus as a distant and transcendent Lord, seated in glory upon a resplendent throne.  Make no mistake about it.  Jesus is Lord.  Jesus is enthroned at God’s right hand.  But listen to what Hebrews proclaims.  Yes, Jesus is the Son of God who has risen to the high heavens to reign in majesty.  Yet he is the high priest who remains sympathetic to us in our weakness because of the intensity of his testing, that is his passion.  He understands our suffering and wants to support us in ours.  So let us confidently approach the throne of grace knowing that we will receive mercy and grace in our difficulties.  That is the Gospel in succinct form and ought to be the constant proclamation of the Church.  Sinners ought to be constantly reminded that with the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption.  They and we ought to hear that message far more often than we hear threats of judgment and condemnation.  Heaven has much more allure than does hell as motivator of repentance.

Can you identify with James and John in this Sunday’s gospel?  Haven’t you ever wondered what’s in it for me? That’s basically the point the two apostles are pushing.  They have listened to Jesus.  They have seen his mighty deeds.  Remember that when Jesus does something particularly significant he always makes certain that Peter, James and John are with him.  Having seen those powerful deeds and been awed by the raising of Jairus’ daughter, they have concluded that through Jesus will come the Messiah’s reign, the Kingdom.  They want to be next in command after Jesus when that reign begins.  Sure they seem ambitious.  Perhaps they are naïve.  Most of all they are human and normal in their desires for position and power.  The more you can identify with them the more powerful will be the impact of what follows after Jesus asks them if they can pay the price for what they want.  Can you drink of the cup that I will drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?

James and John’s boast that they could drink from the cup and submit to a baptism, at this point in their journey, is not filtered through their experience of Jesus’ Passion and Death.  That hasn’t happened yet.  There is the youthful confidence that they can fight battles at Jesus’ side.  These two, remember, are known for their temper and are called Sons of Thunder.  Jesus affirms their declaration, assuring them that they will, indeed, drink from the cup and share the baptism, but the desired results may not follow since God is the determiner of position in heaven.

The other ten apostles are indignant following the exchange between Jesus and James and John.  Perhaps their indignation sprang from their own desires to have that that James and John sought.  Had they asked, they would have received the same response.  What is important is that this moment segues into the proclamation of a fundamental attitude that must be common to all who are disciples.  This should have served as a clear warning that their own attitudes had to adjust just as did their expectations for the type of Messiah Jesus would prove to be.

Jesus begins something entirely new, a new kind of kingdom unlike that experienced by the Gentiles.  Lording it over others can have no place in Jesus’ realm.  In Jesus’ kingdom, those who wish to be great among you will be your servants; those who wish to be first among you will be the slaves of all. In other words, among those who are Jesus’ disciples there can be no lusting after power.  All will have to imitate the One they follow.  That is how Jesus ministered, even to the shedding of his blood.  That is how the disciples must minister – even those who are in charge of the community.  Remember the pope’s revered title: Servus servorum Dei.  The servant of the servants of God. And that is what the Church should be all about, a servant people in imitation of Christ’s service.

A word about the cup and a word about Baptism follow.  You will drink of the cup that I will drink. Each time we come together to celebrate Eucharist and to share the meal we are invited to drink from the cup.  Jesus said: Take and drink, this is the cup of my blood… When we do that we enter more deeply into union with Jesus and those in Communion with him.  Our shared action is our pledge to be a people who see the full implications of the cup and are willing to live out those implications, even to shed our blood as Jesus did his.  And Baptism?  When we enter the Font, remember, it is to die there.  We enter into Christ’s dying.  We rise there to live in union with Christ’s resurrected life.  We put on Christ.  We are identified with Christ and called by name just as Jesus was in his Baptism.  That identification with Christ is so complete it is said that God loves the baptized with the same love God has for Jesus.  Think about that.  Personalize it.  And stand in awe even as you ask: Do I believe this?

Look back over the history of the Church.  We have to admit that there are dark periods in our history.  The Holy Wars, called the Crusades, were waged in the Holy Land to rescue the holy places from the hands of the infidels and resulted in the shedding of much blood and the taking of many lives.  The reign of the Inquisition resulted in many being burned at the stake.  The Church was wealthy during those periods when terror reigned.  Even so, in those terrible times Christ raised up those whose lives of poverty and service confronted the splendor of the Church and brought about reform.  Think of Francis of Assisi.  He started out to be part of the Crusades and came home to wed Lady Poverty and live a life in service of the poor.  Many followed him.  There are other sterling examples, too numerous to be mentioned here.  And isn’t it curious that the Church always thrives when the Church is being persecuted?  Watching those drink from the cup from which Jesus drank and being baptized with the baptism with which Jesus was baptized inspires others to want to come and do the same.  It never fails.

Perhaps that is why this Sunday’s readings are proclaimed even to those struggling with faith and to those on their way to baptism.  It is better to know the full implications of the call right from the start and then to remember that the one they will follow was similarly tested in every way and now invites all to approach even in their weakness and consciousness of sin, knowing their will be mercy and grace for timely help.

And those of us who have been on The Way for some time must remember, too, and remembering, pray for the grace to be faithful to the very end where life begins.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Wisdom 7:7-11

Hebrews 4:12-13

Mark 10:17-30

Warning: At your own peril follow the path this week’s readings open before you.  Take them to heart and you will never see things the same way nor make decisions as you did before.  And worst of all, what you used to take as a sign of blessing and God’s favor may not appear that way ever again.

The I of the Book of Wisdom is taken to be Solomon even though the Book of Wisdom was written centuries after his death.  Solomon has always been seen as the epitome of what it means to be wise.  Here Solomon tells us that he prayed and prudence and wisdom were given to him.  In other words, neither is a natural talent; both are gifts from God.  The end result is that Solomon sees things the way that God does and nothing is as Solomon saw it before prudence and wisdom became reality’s filters for him.

Go down the list of items in the reading and you will find just about everything that society values today.  Wealth and its trappings.  Youth and beauty.  Power.  Even health.  None of them seen through Wisdom’s eyes is as important as Wisdom herself.   The reading ends with these words: Yet all good things together came to me in (Wisdom’s) company, and countless riches at her hands. Follow that line of thinking and you can see how it was that the rich were thought to be those blessed by God and would, therefore, be first in the kingdom of heaven.  We’ll see what Jesus has to say about this.  And you will appreciate the shock registered by those who heard what he said.  Maybe you’ll be shocked, too, even angered.  That’s all right.  That’s where prayer will come in, prayer to see things the way Jesus does – if you dare.

We sometimes fail to remember that the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword. But remembering that, we will not be surprised, at least in retrospect, that from time to time, while sitting under the word, that is the Scriptures, we were unsettled and wondered, How can this be? What we have forgotten is that conversion is a life-long process beginning when we first come to believe and concluding only when our lives have run their course.  And every step along the way, if we allow it, begins with grace and is supported by grace as we are called into deeper union with Christ.  Put another way, it is God’s love that draws us.

So, we come to the gospel reading for this week.  A man, probably a stand-in for you or me, runs up to Jesus and pays him homage.  Can’t you identify with his question, at least when you are praying?  Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? What do I have to do to get to heaven?  In a nutshell, Jesus tells the man to keep the Commandments.  Do what God asks.  Notice the man’s answer: Teacher, all of (the commandments) I have observed from my youth. That is a jaw-dropping avowal.  All of them.  From my youth.  Not many people can make that claim.  And it is clear that this is not idle prattle.  How do we know?  We know because of Jesus’ reaction.  Jesus looked at the man with love.  Jesus knows the heart and knows that the man has from his youth been single-minded in his desire to do God’s will.

The man asked Jesus how to get to heaven.  Jesus answered.  But now comes the offer of vocation, the invitation to move to a deeper realm and follow the new way.  You are lacking in one thing.  Go sell what you have and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me. Jesus challenges the man to have Solomon’s experience and dares him to see things differently.  Can the man stop seeing his wealth as the confirmation of God’s love for him?  Can he wrest himself from these things in which he finds his security and that may well blind him to the needs of others, or at least, cause him to see the poor in ill light?  Remember, in Jesus’ time and perhaps in our own, poverty was seen to be a punishment for sin, either this man’s or his parents. It is that perception that Jesus wants to change.  It is clear that the poor have primacy of place in his concerns and they must occupy that place in the concerns of those who follow Jesus.

Clearly the man had come to Jesus awed by what he had seen Jesus do and heard him say.  Or, perhaps the witness of others drew him.  Something made him conclude that Jesus had the words of everlasting life.  The crowds and the disciples following Jesus attested to that.  But hearing Jesus say that he had to go and sell what he had and give to the poor and then come and follow Jesus, the man’s face fell and he went away sad.  Don’t take from this that the man would no longer inherit eternal life.  Jesus had assured him of that already.  That doesn’t change.  What is lost is the opportunity to rid himself of everything that is in the way of making Jesus the center of his life, of experiencing the emptiness that only Jesus and the love of God that Jesus brings can fill.  What Jesus had wanted the man to become was Jesus’ other self, to do what he does and to speak as he speaks, to enter the reign of God and so help others, especially the poor, the sick, and the disenfranchised, to know God’s love.

Now we come to another of Jesus’ declarations that turns perceived reality upside down.  Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!  It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God. Now we can discuss what the term needle means.  Was Jesus speaking literally of a needle for sewing?  Or, as is often thought, was Jesus speaking of the narrow-gated entry into Jerusalem that was so low and so narrow that a camel could only go through it were its entire load removed before hand.  In the end, it doesn’t matter.  What we need to hear is that it is no simple endeavor to enter God’s kingdom.  It is not a matter of doing what comes naturally, as an old song had it.  If that were the case, where would come the need for grace?  Where would be the difficulty?

As nakedly as Jesus has put the demands for entry into God’s kingdom elicits consternation from the disciples.  Then who can be saved? In other words, they are asking who can meet Jesus’ demands.  And the answer is simple and straightforward.  No one can do this on his or her own.  But all can with God’s grace empowering them.

This brings us back to a sidebar, if you will, and the question of vocation.  The word vocation, as you know, means calling.  To consider vocation is to ask what God is calling you to do or to be.  Most obviously, your state in life is your vocation.  If you are married, your marriage is your vocation and you serve the community in that vocation.  If you have chosen to be single, as a single person you serve the community in fidelity to that vocation.  If you are a priest, a deacon, or a vowed religious, through that vocation you serve the body that is the Church.  What we might miss is that in each of the vocations, in order to follow Jesus, it is self that must be emptied if one is to serve in imitation of Christ.  And, of course, in each of those vocations and recognizing the totality that is Jesus’ call, each one can be overwhelmed by the demands and do what the rich man did.  Go away sad because it seems too much is being asked.  Who can do this?

It is presumptuous of me, I know, but I would challenge you at this point to take a moment to stop and pray, perhaps for the prudence and wisdom that Solomon prayed for.  That will result in your being able to view your situation, your gifts and blessings, as God does.  In that moment of prayer, ask Jesus what he would have you do.  What is Jesus calling you to do and to be in the community we call Church?  The first thing you will notice is that if there is a vocation, it will be attractive.  You will be able to imagine yourself doing it.  Is Jesus inviting you to be a lector?  An Extraordinary Minister of the Eucharist?  A greeter or an usher?  Is Jesus inviting you to be a minister to the homebound?  Is there the possibility that you are being asked to go on mission to a developing country?  Could you minister to someone dying with AIDS or to those in advanced years?  Could you minister to someone in dementia?  That’s not an exhaustive list.  Those are just some suggestions that might prompt you to wonder and wondering, to dare to say yes if God will support that decision with grace.  Remember there are primary vocations and avocations.  Marriage is a primary vocation.  Being an Extraordinary Minister of Eucharist is an avocation or secondary vocation.  The balance between the two needs to be kept.

One more question to ask while you are praying about vocation.  What will you have to give up in order to respond to the Lord’s invitation?  It is not without significance that we approach the Table to receive Eucharist empty handed.  What gets in the way of your taking up the ministry?  It is interesting to wonder how the story would have worked out, who the man would have become, had he gone and done as the Lord invited and then followed Jesus.  And you can wonder the same thing.  When you serve, what will be the impact on your faith community, the broader community, the world?  How will others experience Christ through you?

A final note that you ought not miss.  When it comes to the question of reward for having given up everything to follow Jesus, don’t miss that Jesus promises the restoration of everything given up and persecutions. There may well be a share in the cross that you can’t anticipate.  You may be rejected or even denounced by those who do not accept your ministry or misunderstand it and find it threatening.  When you think about it, that shouldn’t be a surprise.  You are imitating Jesus.  It’s possible you will wind up the way he did.  But then comes resurrection and God’s eternal embrace.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Genesis 2:18-24

Hebrews 2:9-11

Mark 10:2-16

There is much to ponder in the readings as we prepare for Liturgy this Sunday.  It will be a challenge for the homilist to break open the word for us so that we are nourished and led to a deeper understanding of the nature of human relationship as God intended, its permanence in marriage, and, I believe, its permanence in the Church.  Remember, we speak of the Church as the Bride of Christ.  There are implications in terms of our relationship with each other and with Christ.  Lots to think about here and ample reason for us to pray for the grace of enlightenment and the courage to live by what the Spirit reveals.

Let’s begin with the reading from Genesis.  There are some important details that the reader should not miss.  We are at the beginning of the story of creation and man’s place in it.  This is not a scientific treatise.  This is a theological interpretation of the world as God called it into being and of the hierarchy of beings that inhabit it – all God’s creatures.  Hear God’s first words in the text: It is not good for the man to be alone.  I will make a suitable partner for him. This would seem to indicate, at least from God’s point of view, that it is essential to the human experience to live in relationship.  There is ample evidence regarding the effects of solitary confinement to substantiate that.  Isolation can destroy the human spirit.

God begins to form all the wild animals and the birds of the air and puts them before the man.  Perhaps this is to see if one of the creatures will put an end to the man’s being alone.  That doesn’t seem to be the case as one by one they prove to be inadequate.  Rather it is to have the man name the creatures.  What’s in a name? Shakespeare asked.  More than he thought, at least in this text.  One by one the man names them.  This says two things.  First, the man is intelligent and knows the essence of each creature.  So, he can assign the name.  Second, naming the creature gives the man dominance over it.  The man is at the apex of the creatures with a God-given dominance.  And it is clear that this is not enough for the man.  He is still alone.  None of the creatures is a suitable partner.

The man is put into a deep sleep and God removes a rib that God builds up into a woman.  Something different is happening here.  For the first time the being is not formed out of the ground but from the rib, or life substance of the man.  The woman shares the essence of the man.  Still, there is an implied dominance here because it is the man who names her as he had the other creatures, calling her woman for out of her man this one was taken.  The man’s exultation is clear.  He is now a complete human being as is she in their union, as the two become one flesh.  The conjugal union is an expression of God’s will.  In their being one flesh, they are the image of God.  It will be ages before the equality of the sexes will be accepted.  In fact, there are some who do not accept that yet.  But that is another issue.

So, we come to the gospel and another confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees.  These are always attempts to trap Jesus should he say something that will deny the Law or do something that will be a major infraction of the Law.  Jesus cured on the Sabbath remember.  Then the Pharisees can denounce him.  Is it lawful for a husband to divorce his wife? Jesus turns the tables on them and asks if they know what Moses commanded them in the Law.  Moses permitted a husband to write a bill of divorce and dismiss her. The husband could do this.  Not the wife.  And the grounds for doing so could be trivial.  The wife had no rights.  She could be discarded at will.

Now Jesus becomes the confronter.  Moses may have allowed this because of the hardness of your hearts. The Pharisees may accept such actions as being in keeping with the Law.  Make no mistake about this, Jesus says, this was not in accord with God’s will.  To substantiate this, Jesus quotes the concluding lines from our Genesis reading.  His proclamation is absolute and must have been shocking to the Pharisees who were comfortable with the status quo.  If a husband writes a bill of divorce, dismissing his wife, and marries another, that union is adulterous.  Don’t miss the subtle elevation of the woman’s dignity in the citing of the other side of the coin.  If she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery. The wife ought to have the same dignity and power as the husband, the same standing before the Law.

What can be inferred?  There is no question that Jesus condemned divorce.  Put positively, Jesus avowed the indissolubility of marriage.  This is the living out of the great declaration of the two being one flesh.  What God has joined together, no human being must separate. Lived ideally, marriage is a safe and secure relationship between husband and wife that lasts until the death of one or the other of them.  The union is sacramental.  That lived reality reveals the communion of persons that is God.  And, like all the sacraments has significance for the whole Church.  That is why marriages are celebrated in church where the assembly gathers to celebrate Eucharist.  The man and the woman perform the sacrament that is witnessed by the priest and the assembly.  In marrying each other, the couple pledges to love each other and the community in which they live just as Christ does in his union with the Church.  Remember, the Church is the Bride of Christ.  Lives of service in imitation of Christ’s are implied.  Just as Christ cannot be separated from the Church, neither can the husband and wife be separated from each other.  That’s the idea.

There is evidence that it was not that long into the Christian era before exceptions to the law began to emerge.  The first grounds admitted for divorce was adultery.  A little later, someone not baptized could leave a marriage with another non-baptized, and so become Christian and marry another Christian.  Paul allowed for that.  Such action is called the Pauline Privilege.  We won’t go any farther with this.  Our purpose is to recognize the ideal that Christ puts before us and to recognize that on occasion the ideal does not work out.  There is the reality of divorce.  There is, in the Church, the reality of annulment.  It is sad when either happens.

Not everyone in the Church marries for whatever the reason.  Celibacy is imposed on those who would be priests or religious.  Some choose the single state.  Still, the adage remains: It is not good for the man or woman to be alone. It is not good to live in isolation.  Those who are baptized are baptized into union with Christ and with the Church.  That union is celebrated and proclaimed each time we gather to celebrate Eucharist.  Remember in each Eucharist the whole Church is present.  We share a meal and call it Holy Communion.  It might be easy to spring to the conclusion that we are talking about the resulting union between the one receiving Communion and Christ.  But that would be only half the story.  Holy Communion results in a union with Christ, to be sure, but also with each other and the whole Church.  That’s why we call the action Holy Common Union. Remember the hymn that often accompanies the Communion Procession?  One Bread, one Body, one Lord of all/ One cup of blessing which we share/ and we though many throughout the earth/ We are one Body in this one Lord.

The hymn is a profound summation of the reality that all have a right to live by virtue of their Baptism.  The faith community ought to strive to make that right a reality for all – not just the elite, not just those of one race or gender, not just the acceptable, the hale and the hearty.  All are welcome here.  All can come with plenty or in want and ought to find acceptance and, those in need, support.  The assembly baptizes.  The assembly catechizes and calls to full stature in the Church.  The assembly witnesses marriages.  The assembly mourns those who die.  The assembly proclaims in word and deed that no one ought to feel alone and abandoned.  After all, we are all part of the one Body that is Christ.

Of course this places huge demands on the assembly.  Tithing is the acceptance of that responsibility.  It is amazing the results when the majority of the parishioners commit themselves to tithing.  All of a sudden there is plenty to meet the needs of the many and to reach out to embrace all who are brought low.  And no one is alone.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Numbers 11:25-29

James 5:1-6

Mark 9:38-43, 47-48

I had been lulled to the point of stupor by the droning of the preacher.  Insightless and inane are descriptive words that come to mind.  I was jarred to consciousness when the pastor announced that he had concluded his sermon and now was making an important announcement for the good of the parish.  Beginning with this Sunday, Communion from the Cup would no longer be offered to the Assembly.  It seems the number of Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist that it took to facilitate Communion from the Cup overwhelmed the pastor.  His fear was that with all those ministers about, the people would lose sight of the priest.  Alas, I am not making this up, you know.

It is strange what happens when people in authority become jealous of that authority, frightened lest it wane and become ineffective.  You’ve heard of the Napoleon Complex, I’m sure.  Men of short stature are prone to it and give evidence of their neurosis the more they become the bully.  Little kings want their thrones elevated as if the trappings will mask their inadequacies.

The first reading and the gospel raise the issue for us this week, although in these readings the problem does not reside in the ones in authority, Moses and Jesus, but in those next in command, so to speak.  Moses has put the problem before the Lord and said that the job is too much for one person to carry out.  God’s solution is to take some of the spirit that is on Moses and share it with 70 others.  So, an assembly of the designated elders is called at the Meeting Tent and the spirit is diffused.  Immediately the elders began to prophesy.  It was truly an awesome moment.

Unbeknownst to the assembly, two men who had not come to the Meeting Tent but had remained in the camp experienced the same outpouring of the spirit and began to prophesy, too.  How dare they take upon themselves this role that had been reserved to Moses without his endorsement?  A young man is scandalized and runs to Joshua who, in turn, runs to Moses urging him to silence Eldad and Medad.  Joshua probably saw in these spontaneous prophets a diminishing of Moses’ authority.  After all, Moses hadn’t directed the spirit upon them.

Moses puts the whole situation in proper perspective.  He knew that others’ preaching did not slight him.  His insight was a longing for a prophetic people.  Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets!  Would that the Lord would bestow his spirit on them all! Moses wasn’t in the least afraid of being lost in a plethora of prophets.  He was secure in his vocation and mission.

In the gospel, it is John who is scandalized by someone outside the official company of Jesus’ followers.  John had seen the stranger driving out demons in Jesus’ name.  How dare he?  By what authority?  Stop him!  Once again, it is the leader, Jesus, who puts the matter in perspective.  Someone outside the company doing mighty deeds in Jesus’ name does not threaten Jesus who, if the deeds are done in his name, remains the source of the deeds.  And, Jesus says, no matter how great the service or how small, if it is done in Jesus name, the doer will not lose the reward for his action.

Do we believe that the same reward will come to those heroes outside the fold as will come to those within?  Sometimes, on the other hand, the scandal ought to be that the more powerful witness comes from outside rather than from within.  Those outside the fold who work for justice and peace ought not outstrip Catholics in the pursuit of justice and peace.  Rather the fervor of Catholics ought to be stirred.  They ought to see in those outside the company potential comrades in arms.  Mightier in number, through that vast army the will of Christ for the little ones, the disempowered, the poor, will come to pass.

A brilliant turn in the narrative follows.  Jesus turns the tables on John.  You’re scandalized because someone is driving out demons in my name?  Take scandal from the truly scandalous, from the giving of scandal to little ones who believe in Jesus, from those whose words or actions that lead others into sin.  It would be better for them if great millstones were put around their necks and they were thrown into the sea!

Now, let’s go deeper.  What about you, John, gives scandal?  What measure are you willing to take to be rid of that source of scandal?  I remember a sad story from many years ago.  A University of Washington student was found on campus having cut off his right hand and gouged out his right eye.  He had wanted to follow the gospel directive literally.  I don’t think that Jesus is advocating self-mutilation in this dialog with John (and us).  But he is challenging us to go to whatever lengths necessary to divest ourselves of that which is scandalous.  Drug or alcohol or food addiction, sexual addiction, promiscuity, lust, envy or greed, none of these addictions is easily overcome.  Neither are lying or obscene speech.  But each person who claims to be a disciple must commit him or herself to doing what ever it takes to put the addiction into remission in order to walk in the freedom of the children of God and let the love of Christ shine forth.  And that decision can be as gut wrenching as the amputation of one’s own limbs.  The prospect of being thrown into Gehenna where the worm does not die and the fire is not quenched. Put in that perspective, it seems clear that Jesus doesn’t accept many excuses for indecisiveness.

Where do we find the strength?  It seems clear that the strength is found in union with Jesus and in union with the community, the church.  Prayer fosters our union with Jesus, allows him to have dominion in our lives.  Coming together in Eucharist forges the bonds of love that unite the believers with each other and with Christ.  Embracing the weak strengthens all.  The more members of the assembly committed to ministry the stronger the assembly’s witness to Christ and the more apparent it is that Christ is acting through them.

We oughtn’t be angered or feel diminished by another’s effectiveness in prophesying.  Rather, their effectiveness ought to strengthen our own in whatever ministry to which we feel the Spirit’s call.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Wisdom 2:12, 17-20

James 3:16-43

Mark 9:30-37

Sometimes we forget how counter-cultural the call to discipleship is.  This Sunday’s readings will confront us and give us an opportunity to examine our consciences, as it were, to see just how authentic our response to that call is.  The readings will also give those on their journey toward Baptism and their commitment to discipleship the chance to ask themselves if what Jesus holds up as the model of discipleship is a life that they want to embrace.

What is so counter-cultural about being Jesus’ disciple?  Think for a moment about what we put before children as an incentive to pursue excellence in their studies.  Aren’t they challenged to strive to be the best in their class so that they will be able to go to the best schools and upon graduation secure the best jobs in firms so that they can climb the corporate ladder and, arriving at the top, be Number One again?  Of course there will also be ample financial remunerations that will allow them to live in splendid mansions, to drive the finest cars, to have servants to tend to their every need, and on and on, to have the best that this world has to offer.  Why, they could even be president of the United States if they want it bad enough.  Don’t we call all that realizing the American Dream?

Bring those goals to Jesus.  Dare to ask what he would say about them.  You might be startled at what you find – especially if position, power, and pelf are motivating factors in your life.  Are those the carrots dangling before you as incentives in life?  It’s quite clear in this weeks readings that those are not what Jesus promises those who would be his disciples.  None of them was a goal he ever pursued.  Only the will of the Father urged him on.

The first reading from the Book of Wisdom is used in conjunction with the Passion Narrative during Holy Week.  It is easy for us to hear the reading and know that the Just One rejected by the wicked is Jesus.  He is rejected precisely because his values and what he preaches are a reproach to the evildoers.  Translate that as a confrontation of those who are in power.  They have heard that the Just One relies on God who is his vindicator.  They want to take him at his word and see whether or not that vindication will come about.  Will God take care of him even if they impose a terrible death on him?

It is reference to that terrible death that opens the gospel.  The Son of Man is to be handed over to people and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise. This is Jesus’ second prediction of his destruction.  Last week, Peter protested the Master’s impending doom.  And you remember Jesus’ response to Peter.  This week, the disciples hear the dire news and are shocked into silence.  They were afraid to question him about what they did not understand.  Bear in mind that there have been some rather extraordinary events to which the disciples have been witness.  It wasn’t that long ago that they marveled that even the wind and the waves obey him.  Remember the feeding of the five thousand?  That was impressive, too, and seemed to indicate that the long awaited Messiah was here.  They had a clear and vivid picture of what the Messiah would be like and what he would accomplish and, more importantly, where they would figure in his reign.

Have you ever noticed that when you don’t want to know something you avoid accessing the unwanted information?  We joke about putting our heads in the sand, imitating the ostrich.  I don’t know if the ostrich does that or not.  But we do when we flee from the truth.  The disciples were afraid to question Jesus not because he would be harsh in answering their question but because they did not want to know the veracity of what they suspected in their minds.  They did not want their dreams dashed on the shoals like the waves in a storm.

But what follows is curious.  It seems that while the disciples did not dare question Jesus about his being killed they were not reluctant to discuss his successor.  When Jesus is killed who will be the next to be in command?  That is the argument that occupies them on their way back home.  Good teacher that he is, when they arrive at the house in Capernaum, Jesus confronts the issue.  What were you arguing about on the way? This time they are not so much afraid but ashamed to answer.  Even they seem to be aware of how far such an argument takes them from the Master’s teaching.

Are you prepared to hear what Jesus says to the Twelve and through them to us?  Those who wish to be first shall be the last of all and the servant of all. Theoretically that is why the pope is called the servant of the servants of God. In other words, the higher one climbs in the hierarchy of the church the more obligations of service that one incurs.  And nothing is said about rewards.

Again, good teacher that he is, Jesus uses an example to flesh out his imagery.  We can get all dewy-eyed at the thought of the child placed in the midst of the Apostles.  We cherish children and see the hope for our future in them.  That was not so in Jesus’ time.  Children had no rights.  They had no legal status and could do little on their own.  They were the epitome of vulnerable.  Make no mistake about it.  If you are called to discipleship you are called to service, not position, not power, not wealth.  In fact each of the three will thwart effective discipleship.

Who has primacy in terms of importance in the community?  The child.  After all, if you receive one child such as this in my name, you receive me; and if you receive me, you receive not me but the One who sent me.   Be careful who dazzles you.  Be careful over whom you fawn.  That may be the biggest indicator of how far you are from being the disciple Jesus has in mind – or how close.  The same can be said for what you aspire to and why.

All of this says a lot about what our parishes should be like and what people, especially the least significant people, should experience as they enter there.  First of all, the parishioners’ experience ought to be one of having their priesthood as the baptized empowered.  Each of the baptized, from the youngest to the eldest, from the strongest to the most infirm, from the wealthiest to the poorest has a capacity for ministry.  That doesn’t mean all have the same ministry.  It means each has a ministry in keeping with the God-given gifts and talents that one has for ministering.  Not all should be lectors.  Not all should be singers.  Not all should be greeters or ushers or extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist.  But in every parish there are enough with those various talents to fill those various ministries so that all who come among them can be ministered to.

In the midst of the assembly there ought to be seating to accommodate the specific needs of the disabled so that they can be seated in the midst of the assembly, in the midst of their families.  None ought to be made to feel embarrassed by his/her disability.  Even someone with Tourette’s syndrome or any other embarrassing disorder ought to feel loved and welcomed in the assembly.  And there ought to be a ministry for him or her to carry out.  Praying for the needs of the assembly is a ministry.

Years ago, Jean Vanier commented in effect that until our parishes evidenced all these types of people, the able and the disabled, the young and the old and the multi ethnic groups that make up society, until then the parish would not be reflective of the Body of Christ.  Our parishes out to welcome that diversity and recognize it as the blessing that it is.

That is a lot to digest, isn’t it?  If you ask who can do this, who can aspire to be nothing more than a foot-washer, the servant of all, I hope you realize that on one’s own, no one can.  But remember that this is a graced calling, something that begins with God and is empowered by the Spirit.  As you make your way in the Communion Procession toward the altar, keep reminding yourself that you can do all things in Christ who strengthens you.  And eating his Body and drinking his Blood will be all the food you need to strengthen you for the rest of the journey.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Isaiah 50:4c-9a

James 2:14-18

Mark 8:27-35

I don’t often listen, but when I do I am amazed by the televangelists’ message regarding letting Jesus be the Lord of your life and what will follow from that.  Your life, which to this point may not have been going that well, will have a dramatic upswing and you will be living in clover from here on out.  Search as I might, I have never been able to find the basis for that kind of promise in the Gospel.  Those who preach that message successfully are often found in mega-churches.  The crowds seem to love hearing the message and feel good about it.  God bless them, but I wonder.

The readings for this weekend ought to give such preachers pause.  Even Isaiah’s Suffering Servant stands in opposition to such lavish promises following from responding to God’s call.  The prophet suffers as a resulting of his prophesying.  Notice that in the midst of his suffering the Servant remains confident of God’s fidelity.  Still, there is pain when they beat your back and pluck your beard.  Where is the joy in bearing your face to buffets and spitting?  But notice also that the prophet’s faith is not broken by his defeat.  He remains confident that God will be his vindicator.

Once I was invited to a Four Square Gospel Businessmen’s lunch.  A lovely meal was served.  Testimony was part of the session.  I listened as one after another stepped to the podium and witnessed to how the cash registers really started ringing once the businessman turned his life and business over to Christ.  Before Christ the business struggled.  After Christ, everything came up roses.  As each one finished his presentation I knew my turn was coming closer.  There was no way that I would be able to speak of those kinds of triumphs.  Maybe I should just pass.  But that wouldn’t do, so there I was standing on the dais, gazing out at the other attendees, conscious of the microphone before me.  All eyes were on me.  Expectant smiles wreathed most of the faces.

“I want to thank all of you for the testimonies you have shared today.  Your joy is obvious.  My own experience has been quite different from yours, however.  I certainly do not want to put a damper of the enthusiasm spilling over in this luncheon.  Maybe my faith-walk has also been different from yours.  But I remember that when I first knew that I believed and wanted to follow Jesus that his words kept ringing in my ears and lodging in my heart: If you would follow me, take up your cross everyday and follow me. That’s what I heard him say and that’s what I have tried to do everyday.  Some days the cross is heavier than on others.  But it is always there.  And my hope is in the Resurrection when my dying is over.”  The applause was polite though far from deafening.

In this week’s gospel, Jesus asks his disciples what people are saying about him, what conclusions are they drawing.  We saw last week that the crowds were in absolute amazement about Jesus and concluded that he did all things well.  It seems that Jesus wants a digest of what the people are saying.  The disciples relate that people are very impressed with his preaching.  Some liken him to the recently beheaded John the Baptist, even wondering if he is the Baptist back from the grave.  Others, knowing that Elijah must return from heaven before the Messiah comes, wonder if Jesus is Elijah.  Certainly he is one of the great prophets.  Not bad reviews over all.

Then Jesus zeros in on those who have made the decision to be his followers.  It’s fine to know what others think but who do you say that I am? Who is it you are following?  Peter steps forward and speaks for the rest: You are the Christ! Don’t miss the fact that Jesus neither affirms nor denies Peter’s statement.  What he does do, however, is forbid them to tell anyone about their conclusion.  That’s odd, isn’t it?  Odd until you remember that at other major moments of revelation along the way he has silenced them in the same way.  And he will do it again on the way down the mountain following the Transfiguration.  They are silenced because they do not understand yet what they have witnessed.

When Peter said, You are the Christ, which translated means, you are the Messiah, he had a specific idea of messiah in mind and what the messiah would accomplish.  Actually, his hopes for the messianic age were not far from those realized by the Gospel Businessmen.  Peter thought the Messiah would usher in a new age of prosperity lifting up the poor.  The Messiah would drive foreign rule, the Romans, from Israel.  The Messiah would set up his reign and people to manage it.  Surely those closest to him would have favored places in that cabinet.

Nothing could be farther from Jesus’ messiahship.  The disciples have seen the powerful Jesus.  He walked on water.  Even the wind and the waves obey him! Then how can it follow that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes and be killed, and rise after three days? Partly out of affection for Jesus and partly because Peter did not want to let go of his dream, he took Jesus aside and rebuked him. That’s a pretty strong word and usually implies a rather thorough dressing down.

In the vernacular, Jesus loses his cool and shouts back at Peter with the same vitriol.  Get behind me Satan! It isn’t that Jesus is saying that Peter is the epitome of evil.  But Peter is acting as a tempter.  And if Jesus senses the temptation that means there is something attractive about it.  Things that repulse us do not tempt us.  But Jesus is faithful to the Father’s will and casts off the temptation and commands Peter to walk in his footsteps, watch over his shoulder, and acquire a new understanding of Messiah as he witnesses Jesus the servant.  And more, accept what following the Messiah will mean for the disciples who must imitate him.

Bounty?  Power?  Position?  Imagine how stunned the crowd and the disciples were at the message Jesus had for them.  He spoke clearly.  Those who wish to come after me must deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow me.  Those who wish to save their lives will lose them, but those who lose their lives for my sake and that of the gospel will save them. It seems crystal clear that discipleship will always involve suffering, the plucking of beards and buffeting of which Isaiah spoke.  Jesus follows in that tradition of the Suffering Servant even to death on a cross and so, too, must his disciples.

At this point in the Church’s Year, we are confronted with the same question Jesus asked Peter.  Each of us must answer it in the silence of our hearts.  Who do you say that I am? And the answer will depend on what kind of Messiah we think Jesus is.  There is a profound reason why our faith-lives center about Sunday Eucharist.  We come together worn by the week’s labor to be refreshed and renewed.  We are nourished by the word and strengthened by it.  We enter into the Eucharist that is always giving thanks to God in the dying and rising of Jesus.  We enter into the dying and die there, too.  We enter into the rising and rise there to new life.  Refreshed, strengthened and renewed, we are sent to continue on The Way with Jesus for another week, to continue taking up the cross everyday, to continue believing that if we lose our lives in this service of the gospel we will save it.  That’s what Jesus promised.  And that’s what we believe.

A final point.  Why do you think the early church paid such homage to martyrs?  Why was it that in the days of the catacombs, Eucharist was celebrated on the graves of the martyrs?  To this day, bones of martyrs are entombed in the altars at which the Eucharist is celebrated.  These are the ones who heard Jesus’ challenge to take up their cross every day.  These are the ones who gave their backs to be beaten and their beards to be plucked and their faces to be buffeted.  These are the ones who were ground in the lions’ jaws like wheat in the mill.  These are the ones who died for the sake of the gospel.  And these are the first to experience the fulfillment of the promise that if the lost their lives for Jesus’ sake they would save them.  These are the Church’s first victors.  And to the victors belong the spoils.

Sincerely,

Didymus

Isaiah 35:4-7a

James 2:1-5

Mark 7:31-37

If you have never experienced any of the negatives in Isaiah’s prophecy in the first reading, you won’t rejoice with the relief he urges the hearer to hope for.  The prophet speaks to those whose hearts are frightened. If you are not frightened, if you feel safe and secure, if you are hale and hearty and have all your needs met, the prophecy is not for you.  When there is plenty of water the thought of streams bursting forth in the desert will elicit a far different response in you from that evoked in the heart of one who knows what it means to thirst and wonder if rain will ever fall again.  Imagine how you would hear that then the lame (will) leap like a stag if you were confined to the use of a wheelchair or had no real use of your limbs.

The poetry is lush and the bounty promised, lavish.  God is a god whose love knows no limits, a god who is present even in the direst circumstances.  Have no fear, God will rescue and deliver.  The world will be restored to the idyllic state that it had at the beginning of creation before sin entered.  That’s what Jesus brings.  At least that is what the gospel reading says Jesus brings.  It is the perceived lack of that transformation implied in the Messianic Age that prevents many from being able to believe.  For the wealthy and secure there is no issue.  They might think they have already what the Age promises.

Do you remember the scene in last week’s gospel, the confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees?  It’s clear that Mark wants us to see that the Pharisees who had the ability to see, hear, and speak refused to do all three regarding the significance of Jesus’ words and deeds and instead chose to strain over the minutiae of the law.  This week Jesus has moved away from Tyre and gone by way of Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, into the district of the Decapolis. In other words, Jesus has left the Jewish community and is now among the Gentiles, those very ones the law declared to be unclean.

It is obvious that the people of the area have heard about Jesus.  The word has gotten out about his preaching, teaching, and marvelous actions.  As soon as Jesus enters the district, crowds come out to meet him.  You can like it to the turnout at the airport when a championship team returns home with the trophy of victory, or, when a celebrity visits the city.  The adulation knows no bounds.  So it is with Jesus as the people immediately bring to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment. Again obviously, the man hasn’t heard about Jesus for himself.  And he isn’t able to speak for himself in terms of his needs and desires.  The people do those things for him as they present the disabled man to Jesus and beg him to lay his hands on him. There are no witnesses to what happens next since Jesus takes the man away by himself and leaves the crowds behind.

Jesus does more than lay his hands on the man.  He puts his fingers into the man’s ears.  He spits into his hand and touches the man’s tongue.  (I’ve never seen anyone wince at the proclamation of that detail.  Strange.)  Those two actions do not bring about the healing.  In stead, Jesus groans.  Whenever that word appears as a reaction from Jesus it means that something very draining, even exhausting, is happening.  A tremendous energy is going out of him.  Ephphatha! I think said doesn’t quite describe the sound that came from Jesus lips.  It certainly wasn’t a whisper.  I’d bet it was more of a shout.  The command uttered brings about deliverance and immediately the man’s ears were opened, his speech impediment was removed, and he spoke plainly. In other words, there was transformation as Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled in Jesus.  The ears of the deaf will be cleared.  The tongue of the mute will sing.

The crowd is ecstatic.  The response Jesus had hoped for from the Pharisees comes from the Gentile crowd.  Strange, then, isn’t it that Jesus ordered them not to tell anyone about what had happened.  Why do you suppose that is?  Because as thrilled as they are, they still do not understand what they have experienced.  Nor will they until after the Resurrection, until the story is complete.

What are the challenges for us who hear these readings proclaimed?  They are many and primarily dictate the kind of community our parishes should be.  Let’s hope we do not have to spend much time on the admonitions that James puts before us in the second reading.  How much fawning over the wealthy and powerful is evidenced when we gather?  Are we so overawed with those splendidly clad in the latest fashions and with Rolex watches on their wrists, those who can be the source of our greatest financial support, that we do not notice the poor and provide a place for them?  Those attitudes would not describe Jesus’ practices of table fellowship.  The current practice of turning individuals away from Holy Communion because their political views are suspect and they are deemed to be sinners would never bring about against a parish the allegation leveled against Jesus: This man welcomes sinners and eats with them. James asks: have you not made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil designs?

The crowds brought the disabled man to Jesus.  The crowds had a role in the man’s healing.  They prepared the way for it, tilled the soil, so to speak, so that the seed could be planted and the harvest follow.  That is the role the parish should play in assisting people to faith.  The assembly should be the type of community that can only be explained by faith.  That is the attitude they bring to the Liturgy of the Word.  It is the attitude they bring to the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  The seeker comes to understand what faith means by experiencing the faith of a believing community.  And in turn the community brings the seeker to Jesus for him to lay his hands on the seeker.  In the rite of Baptism we hear, Ephphatha!  Be opened! Ears are touched.  Lips are, too.  The words come from the one baptizing and so do the actions.  The newly baptized is invited to hear the word and to proclaim it in Christ Jesus, our Lord.  The Spirit empowers.  The miracle happens again.

Another consideration.  Do our parishes welcome the physically and mentally disabled?  Can the physically disabled make their way safely to the altar and the ambo and to all of the devotional spaces to which the rest have the parishioners have access?  I remember being chastised by a woman who had to use crutches.  “I’d love to be a lector.  There is nothing wrong with my voice.  But I could never negotiate the stairs to the ambo.”  The proper response would not be to bring a microphone down to her level.  She has a right to access and alterations to the worship space ought to be made in accord with that.

I remember being thrilled to be in the midst of an assembly and to notice the wide diversity of people ministering.  A blind man served as a greeter.  A woman with severe physical disabilities was an extraordinary minister of the Eucharist.  A person with Downs Syndrome served as an usher.  And no one seemed to think that there was anything unusual about any of this.  There was evidence of all of the other diversities that happen among members of the human race – the ages, races, genders, and orientations.  All were welcome there regardless.  And so was I.  It was good to be there.

So, it just might be that those wonders promised by Isaiah do come about not yet on the grand scale that is the worldwide restoration of Eden revisited.  But it happens in parishes where all are welcome to gather, to listen, to pray, to share the bread and the cup and be transformed by the Eucharist they celebrate.  Then recognizing that they are the Body of Christ, the Church, they are sent to go forth and proclaim the Good News to all they meet.

A final memory to be shared.  I remember being in a splendid church in Kenya – splendid in size, not in adornment.  Thousands of people gathered for the celebration.  Near the front was a group of youngsters severely deformed and disabled by polio.  The first thing I noticed was that they were not in the least self-conscious of their deformities.  Nor were they embarrassed when they needed assistance from someone else to make a move or turn a page.  Nor was there any reluctance on the part of their peers to render that assistance.  The splendid moment came when, following Holy Communion, those youngsters worshiped in a liturgical dance.  Arms waved.  Bodies turned.  Hands clapped.  And the music played.  Alleluia was the song.  I heard.  I was moved.  And I believed.

Sincerely,

Didymus