Monday, March 30, 2015

A Tale of Two Gospels


On Palm Sunday the Church places before us the tale of two gospels.

The first gospel, proclaimed at the beginning of Mass, tells of Jesus’ royal entry into Jerusalem – as kingly an entry as anyone could want.  Here Jesus is welcomed with open arms, with palm branches waving in the air, and the chant of the peoples ringing out in the streets, “Hosanna, blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.  Jesus is welcomed as a victor and challenger of Roman authority – the palms being an ancient sign of military victory.  But there was a disturbing indication that he would not be a military power – for he was seated on a lowly donkey.  

The second gospel details Jesus’ passion.  We have just recounted it.  It tells the devastating tale of his betrayal, abandonment and death.  This is no glossy, sugar-coated story.  Here the very Son of God is stripped, beaten, and mocked.  He bleeds.  He dies.  Rather than a flight from the suffering and violence of the world, instead the Savior immerses himself in it.  He becomes the suffering servant who ‘does not turn away his face’ from insult and spitting, whose beard is torn loose from his flesh. 

Blessed Guerric of Igny explores further the paradox of these two events recounted in today’s gospels:

If today’s procession and passion are considered together, in the one Jesus appears as sublime and glorious, in the other as lowly and suffering.  The procession makes us think of the honor reserved for a king, whereas the passion shows us the punishment due a thief. 

In the procession the people meet Jesus with palm branches, in the passion they slap him in the face and strike his head with a rod. 

In the one they extol him with praises, in the other they heap insults upon him. 

In the one they compete to lay their clothes in his path, in the other he is stripped of his own clothes.

In the one he is mounted on an ass and accorded every mark of honor; in the other he hangs on the wood of the cross, torn by whips, pierced with wounds, and abandoned by his own. 

Today is a Sunday of juxtaposition.  In this way we begin the week that the Church refers to as ‘holy’.  We begin the countdown to the solemn events that closed the life of our savior.  At this Mass we commemorate the glorious welcome of Jesus in our midst and our devastating betrayal of him into the hands of sinners.  It is not the Jews who are to be held responsible for this but rather all of us who share in this betrayal, because we all walk the path of sin and disobedience.  It is for our sake that the king proclaimed in the royal procession is tortured and put to death.  It is for our sake that the king proclaimed by the marvelous procession into Jerusalem is made to suffer humiliation and sadistic cruelty.  Today’s liturgy reveals to us the scandal of God’s striking abandonment of his royal and divine prerogative.  Here is on display a divinity that does not hesitate to turn upside down every expectation.  To us, the fickle people, Jesus reveals himself as the king, lauded as the Messiah on Sunday and put to death as a criminal on Friday.  Yet Jesus comes forth nonetheless, knowing the miscarriage of justice that will snuff out his life.  He enters triumphant into the city of Jerusalem, treading underfoot the palms laid in his path by those praising his coming…soon to be trod underfoot himself by our own voices, yelling, ‘Crucify him! Crucify him!’  This Sunday lays bare the opposing extremes present in every human heart.  We welcome the Savior, yet we cannot bear his coming.  We open our hearts, yet we betray in the next breath.  The words of Saint Paul resonate here: “O wretched man that I am, who will save me from this body doomed to death?  I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.”  If anything this phrase encapsulates our attitude this Sunday.

What is left for us to do on this Palm Sunday?  Pope Benedict relates a closing thought in this regard:

Before Christ – the Fathers said – we must spread out our lives, ourselves, in an attitude of gratitude and adoration.  As we conclude, let us listen once again to the words of one of these early Fathers, Saint Andrew, Bishop of Crete: “So it is ourselves that we must spread under Christ’s feet, not coats or lifeless branches or shoots of trees, matter which wastes away and delights the eye only for a few brief hours.  ... so let us spread ourselves like coats under his feet ... let us offer not palm branches but the prizes of victory to the conqueror of death.  Today let us too give voice with the children to that sacred chant, as we wave the spiritual branches of our soul: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel’” (PG 97, 994).  Amen!

Friday, March 27, 2015

Misunderstood and Maligned? No problem.


In a world dominated by linear thinking and an eye to efficiency Jesus presents a bracing counter-intuitive witness.  Think about today's gospel for a moment.  If Jesus' sole purpose in preaching was to gain adherents it would seem that he has failed.  For his efforts, by the end of his discourse the crowd is ready to stone him to death.  He says those provocative words - “Before Abraham was, I AM.”  This statement, to the average Jewish ear, crossed the line into blasphemy.  It is a phrase that will be used against him in the trial that condemns him to the cross.  But the underlying question for me is – why would Jesus preach this way knowing, as he must certainly have known, that people would be slow to understand?  Why preach this way when some misunderstand him while, at the same time, others, fully understanding his words, reject him outright?  Why not use his divine powers to say just the right words in just the right way?  Yet he doesn't do this.  Instead, he seems to be content to preach and then let the seed fall where it may…on good soil, on bad soil, on soil seemingly unprepared for his words. 

As we continue our journey toward the Easter sacraments let us ask ourselves: am I prepared to share the things of God even when I don't have the perfect words?  Am I willing to risk the rejection and misunderstanding that marked Jesus' own life?

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Beyond Words


In earlier times you had to do something quite memorable for your words to be preserved by history.  The words of great rulers, great philosophers, words of kings and prime ministers, words of reformers and of spiritual leaders…words which led to momentous accomplishments or fractious violence - these words are recorded by history.  How different from the world today when our blogs, tweets and Facebook accounts – in short, our words - can be preserved indefinitely once posted to the Web.  No longer is history contained by overarching events and significant personalities.  The nature of history has changed and with it the place of words.

Enter Joseph, the foster father of Jesus, the Son of God.  Surely, Joseph was given a great charge: raising and protecting and providing for Jesus and his mother Mary.  As such he is a great figure by virtue of the task entrusted to him.  Yet not a single phrase of Scripture brings us his voice – his words. 

In this Joseph stands in marked contrast to those heroes recorded in the Old Testament.  Think of the warriors, priests and prophets whose words are preserved for us.  Some were unlikely, like Moses, who was chosen by God as messenger yet who had a speech impediment.  But Moses words are preserved for us throughout several of the books of the Bible.  It is believed that he himself penned several of these books.  Think of David, the youngest of the sons – a mere shepherd who became king and whose prodigious words are preserved in the sprawling book of the Psalms.  Think of the prophet Elijah who called down fire from heaven and who was taken up to heaven in a fiery chariot.  His words are with us too, in the book of Kings.  Or of Queen Esther, who confronts the king in order to save her people, risking death to speak words, words that are preserved for us in the book that bears her name.  We also have the witness of Daniel, who braved the pit of lions to stay faithful to the promises he made with words to God.  Also there are the seven sons who sacrificed their very lives, one after another, rather than violate one of God’s commands, which were preserved by the words of Moses. 

Back to Saint Joseph.  The Bible does tell us of his involvement in naming the child Jesus - of his courage in taking Mary as his wife – as well as the flight to Egypt.  The Bible also tells us of Joseph’s three-day search alongside Mary for their son, Jesus.  And then the Scriptures fall silent.  And Joseph makes no other appearance.  However, we need not infer from this that Joseph was a mute - and appreciating his life does not mean endorsing a morose quietism.  No doubt he and Jesus had discussion and debate in the workshop of Nazareth.  No doubt there was laughter.  Although in one sense Joseph’s footprint in history is negligent, his impact on the man who would change the course of history was not. 

In our technologically advanced society where words foster immediate connection what can Joseph contribute?  In Joseph’s life, as in our own, it is not words alone that are of enduring value.  What we choose determines our commitment to Christ.  Joseph chose Mary, despite knowing that the child in her womb was not his own.  He stepped forward knowing that he would suffer rejection from others who were aware of the details of Mary’s pregnancy.  He chose to risk his own life to keep Mary and her son safe from Herod’s grasp.  He chose faith and a road filled with troubles over expediency and a life free from turmoil. 

The Church today acknowledges his footprint in salvation history.  We ask his prayers as we continue our journey through Lent and toward the coming feast of Easter.  Joseph, Patron of the Church and of Canada, terror of demons and defender of the Holy Family, intercede for us who have recourse to you.  And in a world filled with words, help us to choose the path of life. 

March 19, Feast of Saint Joseph

Monday, March 16, 2015

Trading Up


One of the dangers in living in this technological and materialistic culture is that we become what Pope Francis refers to as a ‘throw away’ society.  We become focused on things rather than people... accomplishments and applause above all else.  People become dispensable and people who cannot care for themselves: disposable.

We might also be familiar with the term ‘trading up’ – the acquiring of something new, ultra-modern and savvy while getting rid of the 'obsolete' and 'outdated'.  There is pressure in today’s society to ‘trade-up’ – to move from one income bracket to the next – accompanied by new friends from that higher income bracket – even at the expense of what is seen as ‘the old’. 

Jesus gives us an opposing witness when he encounters the wise scribe in today’s gospel.  It would have been the ideal opportunity to ‘trade up’ – to give the boot to one of the other apostles (pick any one of them…practically all of them were mere labourers – none of them had the qualifications or theological or oratorical pedigree to match this scribe.  And yet Jesus does not do it.  He does not add the most talented person in the room to his ‘team’.  He doesn’t 'trade up'.  And he doesn’t sell out.  He compliments the scribe but that’s as far as he goes.  And he leaves town with his original twelve, the fishermen, the tax collector and the zealot – all utterly inferior as far as training and natural talent go for the task of preaching the gospel and teaching the faith.

What about the people with whom we share our lives?  Are we merely tolerating them until someone more talented, more charming, more charismatic, more intelligent, more spiritual comes along?  If so, we might consider what Jesus’ witness today means for us…it might leave us as surprised as the ‘wise scribe’ must have been in Jesus’ presence.  

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Die Hard: 4th Sunday of Lent


One thing I’ve begun to realize this Lent is that old habits die hard…and old bad habits die harder. 

This might be a good place to pick up with our first reading.  The people of Israel were in a terrible slump, having made decisions time and time again to betray their God and to forsake his ordinances, his way.  And there were serious repercussions.  Their land fell into the hands of their enemies and they were shuffled off into exile…their precious valuables were liquidated and their palaces burned with fire.  And yet God did not abandon them forever.  We see how, in King Cyrus, the Lord raised up a new beginning for Israel, starting with the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem.  What was God doing?  He was building them from the ground up…starting fresh.  And he wants to do the same thing with us.  This Sunday is called Laetare Sunday, it means ‘to rejoice’.  It is this ‘rejoicing’ that gives us new impetus to follow the Lord despite our failures and setbacks, despite those bad habits that die hard.  The cry underlying our joy this Sunday is the willingness to begin anew, from the ground up – not letting past failures dissuade us from meaningful change. 

Think of the great example we have in Jesus Christ, he who came as the light yet the people preferred the darkness.  Yet rather than abandoning them to the darkness he stepped forward knowing that this would mean an encounter with the Cross, with suffering and with death.  Saint Paul points out to us that this death occurred ‘while we were yet sinners’.  Saint John Chrsysostom, a priest of Antioch of the fourth century, reflects that when Saint John wanted to show God’s love he did so not by referring to signs, wonders, or miracles.  He pointed to the cross, saying ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that all who believe in him might not perish but have eternal life.’  Chrysostom highlights Christ’s eagerness to encounter the Cross.  He recalls how Peter tried to dissuade Jesus from facing suffering and death, “Lord, let this never happen to you” – and that Jesus responded, “Get behind me Satan.”  Yet this openness to suffer is, at its root, not about suffering at all – it’s about love.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church points out that: 

God’s love for Israel is compared to a father’s love for his son.  His love for his people is stronger than a mother’s for her children.  God loves his people more than a bridegroom his beloved; his love will be victorious over even the worst infidelities and will extend to his most precious gift: ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.’

In the Gospel today we overhear a conversation between Nicodemus and Jesus.  Nicodemus, a learned scholar, a man of the law and of rigorous religious training is nonetheless afraid to visit Jesus in public and instead arranges to see Jesus under the cover of night.  Perhaps Nicodemus, a leading Jew of the city, feared some backlash if he were to be seen associating with the controversial preacher from backwoods Nazareth.  Jesus challenges him to look beyond the immediate things of this world and to consider the larger context of things.   Jesus tells Nicodemus that the Son of God will be rejected by the people – foreshadowing the coming crucifixion.  How these words must have rung true for him on the day Jesus died on the Cross.  On that day, Nicodemus makes a stunningly public appearance, appearing before Pilate, the Roman governor, asking permission to take the body of Jesus off of the cross and to tend to its burial.  It seems to me that Nicodemus may have come to the same conclusion as the Roman guard standing beneath the cross: “Truly this was the Son of God.” 

In the cross we have the witness of the most scandalous and most extravagant proof of the Father’s love for us.  Christ makes present His Body and His Blood here on the altar.  We sign ourselves with his cross when we enter the Church and after we receive the final blessing.  May it not be an empty sign but a sign of our willingness to allow the Lord room in our hearts.  Room to rebuild from the ground up the mustard seed of faith that the devil so longs to snatch away from us.  May we see the value of our lives in the shadow of the Cross.  May we see in the extreme price Jesus paid to set us free an eloquent indication of the value of our repentance.

Bad habits die hard…but they still need to die.  With God’s help and with the assurance of His love let us seek to grow in our trust of God as we face our own crosses in life.  Let us take advantage of the remaining days of Lent to carry our cross with Christ, encompassed not with a sense of suffering –but of love – a love that conquers suffering and death.