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Readings & Homilies for Lent, Year C
First Reading: Book of Deuteronomy 26:4-10
Resp. Psalm: Ps 91:1-2, 10-15
Second Reading: Romans 10:8-13
Gospel: Luke 4:1-13
Deut 26:4-10. Through the offerning to God of the firsts fruits of harvest, the
people recognise God's favours to them, especially in their Exodus
from slavery.
Rom 10:8-13. The core of the Christian credo is that Jesus is our Saviour and
Lord. If anyone Jew or Gentile, can say that and live by it, he
or she will be saved.
Lk 4:1-13. Jesus was tempted like we are but he did not sin. Through his grace
we too can esist temptation and overcome sin.
Theme:
Fasting, prayer and almsgiving are three traditional forms of expressing
our conversion. Lent is the penitential season, prompted by the
gospel account of Christ's forty days in the desert.
For the Homily
Outflow of His
Power
Giving Up for Lent
Times of Testing
Temptation
How was he Tempted?
When the priest takes the basket from
your hand and sets it down before the altar of the Lord your God,
you shall make this response before the Lord your God: "A wandering
Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there
as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation,
mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted
us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the Lord, the God
of our ancestors; the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction,
our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt with
a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display
of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this
place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.
So now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you, O
Lord, have given me." You shall set it down before the Lord
your God and bow down before the Lord your God.
You
who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who
abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will
say to the Lord, "My refuge and my fortress;
my
God, in whom I trust."
Because
you have made the Lord your refuge,
the
Most High your dwelling place,
no
evil shall befall you,
no
scourge come near your tent.
For
he will command his angels concerning you
to
guard you in all your ways.
On
their hands they will bear you up,
so
that you will not dash your foot against a stone.
You
will tread on the lion and the adder,
the
young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.
Those
who love me, I will deliver;
I
will protect those who know my name.
When
they call to me, I will answer them;
I
will be with them in trouble,
I
will rescue them and honor them.
But what does it say? "The word
is near you, on your lips and in your heart" (that is, the
word of faith that we proclaim); because if you confess with your
lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised
him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with he heart
and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is
saved.
The scripture says, "No one who
believes in him will be put to shame." For there is no distinction
between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous
to all who call on him. For, "Everyone who calls on the name
of the Lord shall be saved."
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned
from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where
for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all
during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The
devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command this
stone to become a loaf of bread." Jesus answered him, "It
is written, 'One does not live by bread alone.'"
Then the devil led him up and showed
him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said
to him, "To you I will give their glory and all this authority;
for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please.
If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours." Jesus
answered him, "It is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and
serve only him.'"
Then the devil took him to Jerusalem,
and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If
you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is
written, 'He will command his angels concerning you, to protect
you,' and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will
not dash your foot against a stone.'" Jesus answered him, "It
is said, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" When
the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an
opportune time.
Lent, 2nd Sunday, Year C
First Reading: Book of Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18
Resp. Psalm: Ps
27:1, 7-9, 13-14
Second Reading:
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Gospel: Luke 9:28-36
Gen 15:5-12. The solemn covenant God made with Abraham was the foundation of
Israel's religion of trust and grace. Through Christ we are heirs
to this covenant.
Phil 3:17-4:1 Even in the early Church
not all lived up to the demands of the Christian life. Paul, however,
urges them to remain faithful.
Lk 9:28-36. On Mt Tabor, Peter, James and John glimpsed the glory hidden in
Jesus, and were delighted by it. Through faith we too glimpse the
glory of the risen Jesus who still lives today.
Theme:
Today we celebrate Christ's transfiguration on the mountain. Through
prayerful worship we too encounter the transfigured Christ and our
lives also can be transfigured.
For the Homily
So What's New?
Transfiguration
Privileged to be
there
Lord, That We May
See.
An Experience of
God
He brought him outside and said, "Look
toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them."
Then he said to him, "So shall your descendants be." And
he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
Then he said to him, "I am the Lord who brought you from Ur
of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess." But he
said, "O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?"
He said to him, "Bring me a heifer three years old, a female
goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a
young pigeon." He brought him all these and cut them in two,
laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the
birds in two. And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses,
Abram drove them away. As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell
upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
When the sun had gone down and it was
dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these
pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying,
"To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt
to the great river, the river Euphrates,
The
Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom
shall I fear?
The
Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of
whom shall I be afraid?
Hear,
O Lord, when I cry aloud,
be
gracious to me and answer me!
"Come,"
my heart says, "seek his face!"
Your
face, Lord, do I seek.
Do
not hide your face from me.
Do
not turn your servant away in anger,
you
who have been my help.
I
believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
in
the land of the living.
Wait
for the Lord;
be
strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait
for the Lord!
Brothers and sisters, join in imitating
me, and observe those who live according to the example you have
in us. For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often
told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end
is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their
shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship
is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior,
the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation
that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power
that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. Therefore,
my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown,
stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
Now about eight days after these sayings
Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the
mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his
face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they
saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in
glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to
accomplish at Jerusalem.
Now Peter and his companions were weighed
down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory
and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him,
Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here;
let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one
for Elijah"-not knowing what he said. While he was saying this,
a cloud came an overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they
entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This
is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" When the voice had spoken,
Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told
no one any of the things they had seen.
Lent, 3rd Sunday, Year C
First Reading:
Exodus 3:1-8, 13-15
Resp. Psalm: Ps
103:1-4, 6-8, 11
Second Reading:
1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
Gospel: Luke 13:1-9
Exod 3:1-8,13-15. God sees the miserable state of his people in Egypt. He takes pity
on them and will set them free, through the leadership of Moses.
1 Cor 10:1-6,10-12. Though the whole
people of Israel escaped from Egypt and had God's protection in
the desert, yet many of them fell away. We must persevere, in order
to be saved.
Lk 13:1-9. Misfortunes which befall people are no indication that they are
sinners. Yet Jesus stresses the need for repentance and for using
the time that is given to us.
Theme:
Like the barren fig tree, a lax Christian may be cut down. The Lord
of the vineyard offers us yet another chance to bear fruit.
For the Homily
Made New
Wasting Space
Into the Middle
of Things
But for the Grace
of God
Seize the Opportunity
Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law
Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness,
and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord
appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and
the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said,
"I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why
the bush is not burned up." When the Lord saw that he had turned
aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, "Moses, Moses!"
And he said, "Here I am."
Then he said, "Come no closer!
Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are
standing is holy ground." He said further, "I am the God
of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God
of Jacob."
And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid
to look at God. Then the Lord said, "I have observed the misery
of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account
of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings and I have
come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them
up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with
milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites,
the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites.
But Moses said to God, "If I come
to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your ancestors has
sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall
I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM."
He said further, "Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'I
AM has sent me to you.'" God also said to Moses, "Thus
you shall say to the Israelites, 'The Lord, the God of your ancestors,
the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has
sent me to you': This is my name forever, and this my title for
all generations.
Bless
the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me,
bless
his holy name.
Bless
the Lord, O my soul,
and
do not forget all his benefits.
He
forgives all your iniquity,
and
heals all your diseases,
and
redeems your life from the Pit,
and
crowns you with steadfast love and mercy.
The
Lord works vindication
and
justice for all who are oppressed.
He
made known his ways to Moses,
his
acts to the people of Israel.
The
Lord is merciful and gracious,
slow
to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
For
as the heavens are high above the earth,
so
great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him.
I want you to know, brethren, that our
fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea,
and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, and
all ate the same supernatural food and all drank the same supernatural
drink. For they drank from the supernatural Rock which followed
them, and the Rock was Christ. Nevertheless with most of them God
was not pleased; for they were overthrown in the wilderness. nor
grumble, as some of them did and were destroyed by the Destroyer.
Now these things happened to them as a warning, but they were written
down for our instruction, upon whom the end of the ages has come.
Therefore let any one who thinks that he stands take heed lest he
fall.
At that very time there were some present
who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled
with their sacrifices. He asked them, "Do you think that because
these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than
all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you
will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when
the tower of Siloam fell on them-do you think that they were worse
offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you;
but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."
Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in
his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.
So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come
looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it
down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let
it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure
on it. If it bears fruit next ear, well and good; but if not, you
can cut it down.'"
Lent, 4th Sunday, Year C
First Reading:
Book of Joshua 5:9-12
Resp. Psalm: Ps
34:1-6
Second Reading:
2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Gospel: Luke 15:1-2,
11-32
Jos 5:9-12 2. The Isralites, free at last from slavery and humiliation in Egypt,
enter the land of promise. Possession of the land becomes a reality
when they eat the fruits of the new land..
Cor 5:17-21. Christ's whole aim and mission was to bring about a reconciliation
between God and humanity. It is a task of the Church to bring the
benefits of grace to all people.
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32. In the immortal parable of the Prodigal Son, we learn the Father's
infinitely patient love.
Theme:
We celebrate in this Mass the joy of forgiveness and the mercy of
the Lord who welcomes sinners. We too have sinned against heaven
and against our God, and reach out for his forgiveness.
For the Homily
Prodigal Son
Until you are Reconciled
The Prodigal
Forgiving Father
Two Sons
The Lord said to Joshua, "Today
I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt." And so
that place is called Gilgal to this day. While the Israelites were
camped in Gilgal they kept the passover in the evening on the fourteenth
day of the month in the plains of Jericho. On the day after the
passover, on that very day, they ate the produce of the land, unleavened
cakes and parched grain. The manna ceased on the day they ate the
produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they
ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year.
I
will bless the Lord at all times;
his
praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My
soul makes its boast in the Lord;
let
the humble hear and be glad.
O
magnify the Lord with me,
and
let us exalt his name together.
I
sought the Lord, and he answered me,
and
delivered me from all my fears.
Look
to him, and be radiant;
so
your faces shall never be ashamed.
This
poor soul cried,
and
was heard by the Lord,
and
was saved from every trouble.
So if anyone is in Christ, there is
a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything
has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself
through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation;
that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not
counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message
of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since
God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of
Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin
who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness
of God.
Now all the tax collectors and sinners
were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes
were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and
eats with them." So he told them this parable:
"There was a man who had two sons.
The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share
of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property
between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had
and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property
in dissolute living.
When he had spent everything, a severe
famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in
need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of
that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would
gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating;
and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said,
'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare,
but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father,
and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven
and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat
me like one of your hired hands."' So he set off and went to
his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and
was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and
kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against
heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'
But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe-the
best one-and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals
on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat
and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again;
he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.
"Now his elder son was in the field;
and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing.
He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied,
'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf,
because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry
and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with
him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I
have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed
your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that
I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came
back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed
the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you
are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to
celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and
has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"
Lent, 5th Sunday, Year C
IFirst Reading:
Book of Isaiah 43:16-21
Resp. Psalm: Ps
126:1-6
Second Reading:
Philippians 3:8-14
Gospel: John 8:1-11
s 43:16-21. The prophet assures his fellow-exiles in Babylon that there will
be a new Exodus. It is message to inspire us also, at a time when
the Church needs new hope.
Phil 3:8-14. We tend to see holiness as something that we can achieve by our
own efforts. Paul sees it above all as a gift, given through faith
in Christ and in the power of his resurrection.
Jn 8:1-11. When asked to judge the woman caught in adultery, Jesus told her
accusers that they should look to their own sins before condemning
her.
Theme:
The gospel records Christ's attitude towards the adulterous woman
and his warning to her accusers. We need to take care how we indulge
in gossip and innuendoes about our neighbour.
For the Homily
Pharisaic Motivation
Throwing Stones
Where Jesus stands
Justice Giving
Way to Mercy
Thus says the Lord, who makes a way
in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, who brings out chariot
and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they
are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
Do not remember the former things, or
consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it
springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the
wilderness and rivers in the desert.
The wild animals will honor me, the
jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers
in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people, the people whom
I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise.
When
the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
we
were like those who dream.
Then
our mouth was filled with laughter,
and
our tongue with shouts of joy.
Then
it was said among the nations,
"The
Lord has done great things for them."
The
Lord has done great things for us,
and
we rejoiced.
Restore
our fortunes, O Lord,
like
the watercourses in the Negeb.
May
those who sow in tears
reap
with shouts of joy.
Those
who go out weeping,
bearing
the seed for sowing,
shall
come home with shouts of joy,
carrying
their sheaves.
I regard everything as loss because
of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his
sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as
rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not
having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one
that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based
on faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection
and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death,
if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
Not that I have already obtained this
or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own,
because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider
that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting
what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press
on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in
Christ Jesus.
Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early
in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came
to him and he sat down and began to teach them.
The scribes and the Pharisees brought
a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before
all of them, they said to him, "Teacher, this woman was caught
in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded
us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" They said this
to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against
him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When
they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them,
"Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw
a stone at her." And once again he bent down and wrote on the
ground.
When they heard it, they went away,
one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone
with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said
to her, "Woman, where are hey? Has no one condemned you?"
She said, "No one, sir." And Jesus said, "Neither
do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."
Homilies for Lent, 1st Sunday, Year C
(Deut 26:4-10 - Rom 10:8-13 - Lk 4:1-13)
Outflow of His
Power
Giving Up for Lent
Times of Testing
Temptation
How was he Tempted?
If you were to visit the only remaining
part of the Temple in Jerusalem, the Wailing Wall, you would find
rows of Jews praying there every day, their heads nodding up and
down, and most of them with their prayer shawls draped over their
shoulders. These shawls have their origin in the larger robes with
fringes ending in tassels which all devout Jews wore in ancient
times. We know that Jesus himself wore one of these, because when
the woman, who for twelve years had suffered from a haemorrhage,
came seeking a cure, we are told that she touched the tassel of
his robe. She was overjoyed to find herself cured, but grew alarmed
when Christ wanted to know who had touched him. His disciples were
down to earth in their response, "Look at the crowds crushing
you on every side. What's the point of saying, "Who touched
me?"" But then came the rather puzzling remark of Jesus,
"Someone has touched me, for I know that power has gone out
of me." This self-awareness of Jesus lies behind today's gospel
account of his Temtation in the wilderness, an event which, following
on God's approval of him at his baptism in the Jordan by John, marked
his preparation for his public mission throughout the next three
years.
The Temptation narrative is the most
sacred of stories, for, as he was alone throughout his forty days
in the wilderness, no one other than Jesus himself could have revealed
it to his disciples; and it tells us clearly that Christ, even before
he had began preaching, was conscious of having this quite exceptional
power. The whole point of the Temptation story is that in telling
it he was revealing to those close to him how he struggled within
himself to find the most effective way of using this marvellous
power. We ordinary humans are never tempted to try turning stones
into bread, for the simple reason that such a thing is quite impossible
for us. It could only be a temptation for a man with the unique
power of being able to do it. We see then how Jesus, in the first
temptation, toyed with the possibility of winning followers by providing
a miraculous and limitless supply of free bread for people, but
then saw this as akin to the offering of bribes which would inevitably
fail since spiritual commitment des not necessarily follow from
material gain. On the contrary, material wealth can easily lead
to an erosion of religious values, as he was to say later.
Next, being taken up to the top of a
mountain and shown all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of
time - meaning that this was a vision - the temptation for Christ
was to become a secular messiah, one who would use political means
to make people turn to God. Again Jesus dismisses this, being convinced
that people will enter into a spiritual union with God, if, and
only if, they are drawn by God's Holy Spirit. The third and final
temptation was to become a messiah of the spectacular, the sensational,
the kind that so many people wanted - those who throughout his public
life kept asking for signs. What if he were to throw himself from
off the pinnacle of the Temple and emerge unscathed. But Jesus saw
quite clearly that by such performances he could well end up being
a nine days" wonder, and quickly forgotten once he had passed
on. "You must not put the Lord your God to the test,"
he said, perhaps as a warning to himself not to be rash, not to
experiment with the power God had given him.
The conviction formed in his mind that
the hard way of service to mankind, the only one which would endure,
would take the form of suffering and the Cross, and only after the
Cross would come the crown. Without the crucifixion Christ would
long since be forgotten. In every event of Christ's earthly life,
God is saying something to us too. The story of the Temptations
is surely a warning to us not to allow purely selfish considerations
to govern our lives. We must try and be guided by the Holy Spirit,
who continues to speak to us in our conscience throughout our stay
on this earth. Imitate Christ by taking up the Cross every, day,
not with an air of gloomy resignation, but with a cheerful acceptance
of what the daily round may bring. Try and make Jesus a dominating
influence in our lives, reflect upon his words and actions with
reverence and affection, so as to bring about an inner purification
of our minds and wills.
Our prayer during this Lenten season
might well be summed up in the words of the Psalmist (51:8): "A
new heart create for me, Oh God, and put a steadfast spirit within
me. Do not cast me away from your presence, nor deprive me of your
Holy Spirit."
I read or heard somewhere, though I
find it incredible, that "somewhere on this planet earth, every
twenty-four hours, a new McDonalds opens." At last count, there
were 9, 400 of them scattered throughout 46 countries. Even in Paris,
the temple of haute cuisine, they are spreading almost like a rash.
In the battle for the bellies of the next generation, the hamburger
and chips seem certain winners. The Big Mac sign, like the blue
jeans of an earlier period, is fast becoming the symbol of our limes.
One thing is certain, Big Mac is not proliferating in the Third
World and certainly not in famine-stricken countries, such as Sudan
and Ethiopia.
The extraordinary thing about our world
and what is now referred to as the "North-South divide', is
that while two-thirds of the population are dying from hunger and
malnutrition, the other third is dying from over-consumption and
related ailments. And the two problems are inextricably linked.
An American expert at a conference on world population pointed out
that the popular understanding of the problem of over-population
is exactly the opposite of the reality. The world's resources are
strained to the limit, not because of overpopulation in the Third
World, but because of increasing consumption in the West and particularly
in the United States. The reason being that Americans consume by
far the largest percentage of the world's resources and each extra
American mouth to feed condemns dozens of their less fortunate brothers
to starvation. The imbalance has also historical origins. The wealth
of many European countries, such as France, Spain and England, derives
to a greater or lesser extent from the fact that for centuries they
plundered the natural resources of Africa, India and South America.
And the United States owes some of its economic growth to the cheap
labour provided by the African slave trade.
Fasting, like prayer, is one of the
core notions in Christianity, as indeed in all great religions.
It requires no justification. It is a traditional religious way,
since the dawn of civilisation, of acknowledging one's God. The
historical and economic argu ments only serve to reinforce its validity.
They would have been largely superfluous in other times. But modems
seem to want Christianity without the cross, the carnival but not
Lent. And in this we are out of step not only with the gospel but
with two thousand years of tradition. In the Irish language, three
of the seven days of the week were named by reference to fasting.
Wednesday was called Céadaoin, the first fast, Friday, Aoine, fast
day, and Thursday, Diardaoin, a corruption of idir dha aoine, between
two fasts~ And in those days the normal fare would now be considered
subsistence rations. The virtual disappearance of fasting among
Catholics is of recent origin. I can remember vividly my seminary
days, where the normal diet was frugal to say the least, observing
the strict Lenten fast of one meal and two collations a day. The
latter consisted of a half slice of bread with a suggestion of butter
and a cup of tea. It must be admitted, we didn't always do it cheerfully.
But at least we had the comfort of knowing that we were making some
little effort at imitating Christ. We could say with some sincerity
the opening prayer in today's Mass:
Father, through our observance of Lent,
help us to understand the meaning of your Son's death and resurrection,
and teach us to reflect it in our lives.
We pray:
- that we may practise some form of
penance, such as fasting, this Lent to express our conversion in
relation to ourselves, to God and to others.
- that by our voluntary self-denial
we will show solidarity with the deprived of the Third World.
- that we may alter our life-styles
to conform better with the gospel.
This is the story of the temptation
of Jesus in the desert, a story included in the gospels for the
first Sunday of Lent every year. Jesus has just been baptised. He
has joined with public sinners in a public place. He has taken upon
himself the whole burden of human sin, evil, disobedience, and pride.
Immediately he is tested by Satan, who will never, and who never
does miss an opportunity to stop or destroy the good. Jesus was
led by the Spirit into the desert, so the temptations, as it were,
were part of his baptism. He had been baptised with water, and he
would now be baptised with fire.
We are all familiar with times of testing.
When we buy a new car, we insist on test-driving it. Soldiers and
marines go through severe tests before being sent to the battle
zone. The whole process of training in any field of learning, be
that medicine, science, religion, etc. contains an endless battery
of tests that tell as much about the personality of the student,
as it does about his knowledge of the subject. Every marriage has
its testing times; those times when the level of commitment is put
to the test, and where the strength of the bond of love is fully
revealed, whether it is strong or weak. It is a fact of life that
good will always be tested by evil. If an undertaking, which is
purported to be good, doesn't come under attack of some kind from
somewhere, then, its value should be reassessed. There is not a
saint in heaven, or a truly great person on earth who has not, or
does not attract some vicious slander, or find their paths strewn
with obstacles. Jesus joins that group in today's gospel.
Right from the beginning of his ministry,
Jesus is immersed in his humanity. We are all familiar with being
tempted. Temptations are tailor-made to our natural weaknesses.
A temptation for one person would not be a temptation for another.
From a early age children show traits of character and personality
flaws that are unique to each. With one lad, you could leave money
lying around the place, and he would never think of touching it.
With another, you couldn't leave a thing out of your hand, for fear
he might lift it. A bottle of whiskey would be too much for one
person, while not holding the slightest interest for someone else.
We are all uniquely different, and a temptation is like dangling
something attractive outside the windows of our souls, when such
an item or thought appeals directly to some weakness within.
How does all of this apply to Jesus
in today's gospel? As far as Satan was concerned, the whole purpose
of the exercise was to discover if Jesus were God, or merely just
an ordinary selfish, weak, human being. Straightaway I must stress
that yes, Jesus was a human being just like the rest of us. The
big difference is that he had the Spirit within, after his baptism
in the Jordan River. This inner strength would be stronger than
any human weakness. (This Spirit is now available to all of us,
of course, but, back then, Jesus could not give that Spirit to others,
because he himself had not yet overcome the evil one, and achieved
the victory). St John says "little children, there is a spirit
within you that is greater than any evil spirit you will meet on
the road of life." In today's gospel, Satan selected the three
great human weaknesses of appetite, power, and pride. Jesus responded
to each temptation in a way that would show the whole direction
of his mission. He checked Scripture, and quoted what God had said.
He himself had come to do the Father's will, and he was not prepared
to do anything unless the Father told him. That is why he quoted
the word of the Lord on each occasion, as a direct rebut to each
of the temptations.
Jesus was like us in all things but
sin. He was tempted as we are, says Paul. He was accused of being
a glutton, a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners, and
someone with whom no religious Jew should have any contact. He never
denied any of their accusations, but he challenged them "Who
can accuse me of sin?" He certainly experienced all of our
human weaknesses. I honestly believe that if there is one single
weakness within me that Jesus did not personally encounter, experience,
and overcome, then I am outside the scope of salvation. Jesus came
on earth to take care of the weeds among the good wheat, which God
had sown, the weeds of sin, sickness, and death. He did battle with
all three evils, and overcame them, one after another. Today's gospel
marks the beginning of that battle.
Jesus is our Moses, who leads us through
the desert of life, through the Red Sea, into the Promised Land.
Scripture tells us that Jesus came to do and to teach. He washed
the feet of his disciples before he asked them to wash one another's
feet. Scott Peck begins his book The Road Less Travelled,
with the sentence "Life is difficult." He goes on to say
that if we accept that fact, then, life won't be too bad, because
we will not be surprised or taken unawares when it does get difficult.
There are many tensions in life. I can experience the tension between
what I want to do, and what I ought to do; between what I want and
what I need; between how I am and how I think I should be. Learning
to live with the tensions is the essence of life. If you ever waken
up some morning, and discover that your life is exactly the way
it should be, then, please don't move. just wait for the undertaker.
Human appetites are good, and like everything
else, they can be abused. There is a whole question of relationship
here. Some people find it impossible to relate properly to alcohol,
to food, to sex, to power, to wealth, etc. It is as if some power
has taken over inside that propels them towards destruction, through
addictions and compulsions. They experience powerlessness, even
if they refuse to admit it. In today's gospel, Jesus, literally,
had the world at his feet. He wasn't depending on Satan for any
of the power and the glory. He had come with a mission, and his
mission was to set up the Kingdom on this earth. This Kingdom would
be diametrically opposed to the kingdom of Satan, which is based
on power, pleasure, and pride. Jesus taught us to pray to the Father
"The kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours..." In
himself, and in his message, he was, indeed, a sign of contradiction,
as Simeon had foretold about him.
If I look at the life of Jesus as my
model for living, what can I learn from today's gospel? I certainly
have my own share of temptations. When faced with a temptation,
Jesus responded with a word from Scripture, with a directive from
God, as to what he should do. I have something called a conscience,
and it is part of who and what I am. I could write the Ten Commandments
myself, without ever learning them at school. I know it is wrong
to steal, to kill, to tell lies, to be jealous, or to be ungrateful.
When I was a child, I had a dog that looked guilty whenever he did
something wrong. Any parent can look at a three-year-old, and know
that he has been up to something he shouldn't. The call of the gospel
is a call to be honest, with myself, with others, and with God.
Only the truth will set us free. A temptation, by definition, is
a lie. Adam and Eve fell for the lie in the Garden, and, as it were,
came under new management. They hid, and we're hiding since. A bully
is a coward when faced up to. So is it with temptations. If I take
to myself the power of the Spirit, which is mine through Baptism,
then, I, like Jesus, will exercise that full authority he speaks
about. I have given you full authority over all the power of the
evil one. Nothing shall harm you...
Â
Some years back, in the heat of the
Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky affair the head of a women's support
group spoke on CNN. This is what she said, in essence: "Monica
Lewinsky has done nothing wrong. In the world of corporate establishments
and in the White House bureaucracy, women who want to advance must
use everything at their disposal: power, connections and sex. If
that is what she has done, we see absolutely nothing wrong with
that." The name of the game is: use what you have to get what
you want. I am sure you have heard that before. Many people indeed
take it as their philosophy of life. In our Gospel reading today,
however, Jesus shows us that the principle of using whatever you
have to get whatever you want is not always right. In fact, when
that principle is applied without putting God first, it becomes
a philosophy of the world, the devil's own philosophy, a philosophy
that should be rejected even as Jesus did.
Our Gospel today is on the Temptation
of Jesus in the wilderness. Three temptations are recounted: to
change stone into bread, to fall down and worship the devil, and
to jump down from the pinnacle of the Temple. In each of these three
temptations what the devil is saying to Jesus is, "Come on,
use what you have to get what you want." And in each case Jesus
overcomes the temptation by replying, "No, we can only use
godly means to satisfy our God-given needs or to pursue our goals
in life."
In the first temptation, Jesus had fasted
for forty days in the wilderness and at the end of it he was hungry.
The devil puts an idea into his head: "If you are the Son of
God, command this stone to become bread" (Luke 4:3). Notice
that the first thing the devil does is sow a doubt in his mind:
"if you are the Son of God." "Are you really sure
God is with you?" The same thing happened in the garden of
Eden. The first thing the Tempter said to Eve was, "Did God
really say you should not eat of any fruit of the garden" (Genesis
3:1). Temptation always begins with a doubting thought. Did God
really say this or is it one of those Sunday school fairy tales?
Jesus overcame the temptations by refusing to entertain such doubts
and by standing on the word of God.
Note, secondly, that people are tempted
only with what they need or want. After his fasting Jesus needed
to eat. So the devil tempted him with food. It is not a sin for
Jesus to eat after fasting. The sin may lie in how the food is obtained.
Should he follow the normal way of obtaining bread or should he
take the shortcut suggested by the devil to obtain instant bread?
Jesus refuses to take the devil's shortcut. The means we employ
to satisfy our needs must be in accordance with the word of God.
Feeding on God's word is ultimately more important than feeding
on bread. "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone'"
(v. 4).
In the second temptation the devil shows
Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and promises to give him authority
over them if only Jesus would worship him. Remember that Jesus was
about to begin his public life and was looking for a way to get
the whole world to know him and accept his message. Again the devil
tempts him to use what he has (his heart, his soul) to get what
he wants (the loyalty of the whole world). Again Jesus says no.
The end does not justify the means. "It is written, 'Worship
the Lord your God, and serve only him'" (v. 8).
In the third temptation the devil asks
Jesus to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple as a
way to prove that he was the Son of God. Remember that the people
were asking Jesus for a sign to prove that he was the Messiah. Jesus
wanted to convince them that he was the one. But how do you do it.
The devil suggested this sensational sky jump without a parachute.
Again, use what you have to get what you want. Use your supernatural
power to get the people to recognize you and believe in you as the
Son of God, the Messiah. And again Jesus says no. The God of Jesus
Christ is not a God of the sensational but a God who works through
the ordinary, everyday things of life. "Do not put the Lord
your God to the test" (v. 12).
So you see, unlike those friends of
Monica who believe you can trade off everything you have to obtain
what you want, Jesus shows us that we should never trade off our
faith in God or our moral principles to obtain anything in this
world, because faithfulness to God is more precious than anything
in this world.
Patently this story is a theological
discussion - which does not mean that Jesus, a like us in all things
save sin, was immune to temptations. Especially the temptations
to power, pleasure, and fame which are described in today's story.
It is in the nature of human nature, threatened as it is by the
inevitability of death, to try to fight off death with power and
pleasure and fame. It never works of course but the allure of these
temporary escapes is attractive. They at least defer the thought
of death or at least give the illusion of deferring it. During Lent
we are supposed to remind ourselves that we come from dust and we
will eventually return, despite whatever power we may pole up, whatever
pleasures we may enjoy, whatever fame we may acquire. Indeed we
are destined for glory but only once we conquer our fears of death
and overcome the phony escapes that so tempt us.
Once upon a time, back in the late 1920s,
a well-to-do businessman was approached by some friends and offered
the opportunity to be part of a plan they promised would make him
a millionaire in no time at all. These men had "connections"
with the political leaders in the city and they were assured of
kickbacks on all of their projects. Now, our businessman had "pulled
himself up by his bootstraps" and was well off, but not a millionaire.
Though his friends promised that this was a no lose situation and
no one would ever be able to figure out what was going on, our businessman
considered taking kickbacks to be immoral as well as illegal and
he declined to get involved. He didnt preach to his friends but
simply said he felt it was wrong and wouldnt do it. As he was often
found of saying in later years, the "crash" of 29 took
him cleaner than "Grant took Richmond." It did the same
to his friends.
So What's New?
Transfiguration
Privileged to be
there
Lord, That We May
See.
An Experience of
God
"Our young people today love luxury.
They have bad manners, contempt for authority, disrespect for the
elderly. Children nowadays are domineering. They contradict their
parents, gobble their food, and tyrannise their teachers."
How many of us, older people, would see this as a true assessment
of modern behaviour, as compared to that of our own young days?
But - and here is the catch - these words were written by the famous
Greek philosopher, Socrates, one of the wisest men who ever lived,
and ironically condemned to death in 399 B.C., for supposedly corrupting
the morals of young people and preaching religious heresy. Perhaps
it is a question of human nature not changing, being the same yesterday
and today.
What we can say with certainty, however,
about the present age is that it is, in some ways, a time of extraordinary
change. We seem to be thrilled by change; and yet the older we grow,
the more we protest against change, even change for the better (John
Steinbech). But we cannot get away from the fact that we are unable
to experience the unchanging fullness of life here and now. Only
God is capable of this. "Change and decay in all around I see.
Oh thou who changest not, abide with me," the well-known hymn
"Abide with me" says. Once, and once only, for 33 years,
God lowered himself to become like us a being subject to change,
when in the person of his only begotten Son, he was born of the
Virgin Mary into this material world. And God in doing this had
a special purpose in mind. It was that in the person of Jesus Christ
he might show human beings the way forward they should pursue, in
a changing universe.
Of course God did not neglect previous
generations. For example, in the person of Abraham, our father in
faith, we see somebody who was called to follow such a way, called
to leave his home, his own people, to give up the gods he had so
far worshipped, to change from the settled ways of city-dweller
(in Ur) to the uncertain existence of nomadic tribesman in the mountainous
regions of central Palestine - and all this surely in order to safeguard
the new relationship between him and God, a relationship so personal
that Abraham was later to be remembered as "the friend of God"
(Is 41:8, "El Khalil" among Arabs). In return for Abraham's
venture of faith, God made a covenant with him.
This was a form of treaty entered into
by individuals or groups of people in ancient times. According to
the terms of this, God promised that Abraham would be the father
of a great people - something most unlikely at the time, since he
and Sara were as yet childless. Yet the faith of each of us here,
and that of the countless people who have professed it through the
ages, bears witness to the fulfilment of that promise.
Because of Abraham's acceptance of God's
word, nothing would ever be the same again. And what the second
reading and the gospel are saying is that death, which will usher
in a new existence for each of us, will not be simply a continuation
of the pleasant things of this life. Rather will it herald the most
profound change of all - the beginning of a completely new existence
of which the three Apostles on Mt Tabor had a premonition, a fleeting
glance, in the person of Christ transfigured before them. Christ
was about to enter this new state as the first fruits of God's plan
of redemption. And in so doing he would make it possible for all
true believers to enter after him. For, as St Paul assures us, our
true home is in heaven, and if we manifest a willingness to be changed
under the influence of God's grace, he will transform these poor
lowly bodies of ours, also, into copies of Christ's glorious, risen
body. In the meantime, "life passes, riches fly away, popularity
comes and goes, the senses decay, the world changes, friends die.
One alone is constant; one alone is true to us, one alone can be
all things to us" (Newman), and this is God.
If one's abiding trust is in him, then
after the fever of life is over, after the set-backs and illnesses,
the strivings and failures, the changes and uncertainties of this
troubled earthly existence, there will come the ultimate change,
that which will usher all those, who have persevered in Jesus Christ,
through the darkness of death, into the enduring brilliance of the
beatific vision of God. Then in the presence of the Father of all
light, St James tells us, there will be no more change, nor shadow
of alteration. God grant that this may be our destiny as well.
My formative years were all spent in
the good-old bad-old days before Vatican II. I've always felt privileged
and grateful that my religious life straddled two worlds, before
and after the Second Vatican Council. It allows me now to rummage
about in the storehouse of my mind and pull out ideas sometimes
old and sometimes new but all in their own way treasures. I can
remember well how important private prayer was in that pre-Conciliar
world. People were devotional then. In the little town where I grew
up, many of the teenagers, boys and girls, went to the church every
evening for a visit. Of course, all that happened before television
came and changed all our lives. Perhaps, we weren't any more virtuous
than teenagers today. It may be that we had nothing else to do in
the evenings and like all teenagers we wanted to get out of the-house
and meet our friends. Many a great romantic relationship began outside
the church door. Many adults also went to the church every evening.
There was always a steady trickle of people winding its way up and
down Chapel St, from early evening until the church closed at 9.30.
One of these was my mother who made a "holy hour" there
every evening. It was on occasions like these I first had my own
peculiar experience of the "power of prayer." The only
other social outlet for young people was the local cinema. But that
cost money and money was scarce then. I wasn't above using religion
for ulterior purposes. I would slip into the seat where my mother
was deep in prayer, and ask her in a whisper for "the money
for the pictures." She invariably answered: "If it's in
my purse, you can take it, love." I suspect now that on evenings
such as those, St Anthony or one of the other saints who filled
the niches in our church, went without their usual offering.
All that world of private prayer disappeared
dramatically after the Council, though I suspect television and
a host of other modern developments had much to do with it also.
Because the local cinema disappeared too and Vatican fl cannot be
blamed for that. Change always demands some price or other and the
great liturgical changes introduced then seem to have edged out
private prayer. There are faint signs now that it is making a comeback.
It is inevitable that it should. Inside every one of us there is
a little hermit trying to break out. We have all felt that need
to get away from it all, to be by ourselves for a while and try
to make sense of our lives. What else is that but an urge to pray.
Today's gospel gives us a remarkable
insight into the nature of prayer. "Jesus took with him Peter
and John and James and went up the mountain to pray." We too
have to climb a mountain to pray. We must find the high ground,
remote enough to give us an overall view of our petty world with
all its preoccupations. A mountain would give us that perspective,
as indeed a lake or a desert, places where Jesus also liked to pray.
Each of us has to find his own equivalent. We have to create a hermitage
somewhere in our lives where we can go and pray regularly. Only
by prayer can we transfigure our world. By reflecting deep down
inside ourselves we will transfigure our many and often complicated
relationships. Prayer will transfigure our marriages, our homes,
our work and our communities. We will experience what Peter felt
when he saw Jesus transfigured and exclaimed:
"Master, it is wonderful for us
to be here." And we will hear the voice he heard, telling us:
"This is my Son, the Chosen One.
Listen to him."
The famous American writer, Thurber,
at the end of one of his fables, penned these two lines:
All men should learn before they die,
Where they are going to, from where
and why.
Only in prayer will we find the answer
to these questions.
We pray:
- that we may find a time and a place
for prayer in our stress filled world.
- that our lives may be transfigured
by prayer.
- that through prayer we will encounter
the transfigured Lord.
On this Second Sunday of Lent each Year the gospel is always about the Transfiguration of Jesus, of which
we have several accounts in the gospels. Today's account is from
St Luke. Once again, we read of Jesus bringing Peter, James, and
John to one side. We are told that Jesus was praying, which seemed
to be quite a familiar scene to the apostles who accompanied him.
This time, however, something happened. The veil was lifted, and
they got a glimpse of the divinity of Jesus. Moses and Elijah appeared
to him, and they seemed to be talking together. Peter, as usual,
was right in there with a suggestion: This scene is so beautiful,
that he wanted to build some sort of accommodation so that they
could continue to live there. Moses and Elijah disappeared, however,
and, in the midst of some sort of dark cloud, they heard the Father's
voice announcing "This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him."
Everything then returned to normal, and the apostles kept the event
a secret for a long time after it happened.
After Mass each morning, Padre Pio used
go up to the gallery in the church, where he spent a long time in
silent prayer. There was something about the way he prayed, and
his whole demeanour during prayer, that people flocked just to watch
him. He was totally unaware of this, but, on the occasions when
he became aware, he was annoyed, and he pointed to the tabernacle
as the place to which their attention should be directed. We have
all come across these occasions when someone seemed to be in such
deep meditation, that we felt guilty if we had to intervene and
distract them. We feel we are in the presence of someone who is
in the Presence of someone, and that someone is God. Moses was told
to remove his shoes, because the ground on which he walked was holy
ground. There are people who can go into a church and just sit there,
without saying a word. They experience a quiet tranquillity, and
a sense of God there, and, like Peter in today's gospel; they just
want to stay there.
Coming aside is one way of thinking
of prayer. It is those pockets of silence we find in our busy schedules,
and it can occur in the midst of throngs. It is good though, to
come aside on a regular basis, to be alone. It is not easy to be
alone, because I am never less alone than when alone. It can be
so much easier to become aware of God's presence when I take time
out to be alone. I think it is reasonable to say that Jesus was
a busy man. The amount of work and travel he packed into his three
years of public ministry is phenomenal. Yet, again and again in
the gospels, we are told that we went aside for long periods of
time, and, on other occasions, he brought a few, or all, of his
apostles to a place of quiet where they could be alone.
Jesus had come with a mission. Part
of that mission was to fulfil the promises of the prophets, and
to complete the work of God's leaders from a previous era. It makes
sense that he should be seen in the same cameo as Moses and Elijah,
because there was a direct connection. Moses was the lawgiver, and
Elijah was the prophet, and Jesus had come to complete the work
of both. The entrance of the Father's voice into the scene is as
if the Father was so pleased that he could not hold back his pleasure
and approval for what he witnessed. By comparison with the view
the Father had, the vision of the apostles was dim and dull indeed.
However, it is hard to imagine that one could spend much time in
the presence of Jesus without getting a glimpse of something unique,
and of coming to experience a deep sense of awe and reverence in
his presence.
The first thirty years of Jesus' life
is what we call his hidden life. We know little or nothing about
those years. From a human point of view it was so ordinary that
those who knew him then were amazed when he began to display a power
that was out of the ordinary. On the other hand, because he had
come to do the Father's will in everything, and because he never
said anything unless the Father told him, it is reasonable to presume
that he spent a great deal of that time listening to the Father,
which is the essence of prayer. Prayer is much more about listening
than speaking. Speak, Lord, your servant is listening, and not Listen,
Lord, your servant is speaking. The apostles saw Jesus perform some
impressive signs and miracles, from calming the storm, to healing
the blind, to raising the dead. Yet, in the final analysis, when
they were alone with him, they simply asked "Lord, teach us
to pray..." To be with him when he prayed, and to see the priority
he gave to prayer, must have stood out as being high in the impression
he made on them, and in the influence he exerted on them.
It can be difficult to find time for
prayer. That is true, but it can be so much more difficult if I
don't understand what prayer is, and what I'm supposed to be doing
at such times. Let us look at what we do know. Prayer is a relationship,
and continuing in prayer is to deepen and strengthen that relationship.
Life itself it all about relationships, and there is not a problem
in life that is not a relationship one. I am not getting on too
well with God, with others, or with myself. Building a relationship
requires time and effort. It requires a lot of listening, and a
lot of honest sharing. It is built on mutual trust and respect,
and it is dynamic, in so far as, if it's not going forward, then,
you can be sure, it's going backwards.
I believe that each one of us feels
called to come aside from time to time, to reflect on our lives,
to get in touch with our inner selves, and to listen to our inner
voice. In the rat race of today, it might be difficult to hear that
call, to admit to hearing that call, and, especially to making the
time to answer that call. Such goings-aside were much part of the
training of the apostles. It was at such times they saw him transfigured,
as in today's gospel, or they saw him in agony in Gethsemane. It
was at such times that he explained the parables to them, and he
taught them to pray. It is difficult in today's world to get a few
moments of quiet, on one's own. Every kitchen has a radio playing,
there's a TV on in the living room, and, as people walk around,
many of them carry walkmans, and have earphones on their heads.
(Could these things be called brain by-passes?)
God's real work in our hearts is done
in the ordinary events of life. Peter wanted to build a structure
so they could stay on the mountain. He enjoyed the rapture and the
glimpse of glory. The building of the kingdom of God, however, has
two characteristics. It is made up of small acts, which are largely
hidden, like the grain of mustard seed Jesus spoke about. Jean Vanier,
one of the well-known Christians in today's world, said that the
quiet prayers and actions of totally unknown people bring about
the greatest movements for good in the history of the world. We
all have a part to play in this, and every one of us can, and must
make a contribution to this work. III really want peace in the world,
then, I must begin with my own heart. It is from there that Jesus
can begin to bring peace to those around me .
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In 2 Kings 6 we read how the Syrian
army moved in by night and surrounded a city in which Elisha the
prophet of God was staying. Their aim was to capture Elisha because
he was using his prophetic powers to render intelligence services
to the king of Israel. Elisha's servant Gehazi woke up in the morning
to discover that they had been caged in by enemy forces and was
naturally overtaken by fear and doubt. How will the man of God pull
through this? When Elisha saw how Gehazi was panicking he tried
to calm him down by saying to him "Fear not, for those who
are with us are more than those who are with them" (v. 16).
But who would believe that? So Elisha prayed, "O Lord, I pray
thee, open his eyes that he may see" (v. 17). And God opened
the eyes of Gehazi and he saw that all the surrounding mountainside
was full of horses and chariots of fire forming a protective wall
around Elisha. His fears were allayed. That day Elisha had an easy
victory over his enemies.
Our Gospel today comes after the passage
where Jesus had told his disciples that "The Son of man must
suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests
and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised"
(Luke 9:22). This was no good news to the disciples who expected
Jesus, as the Messiah, to confront and topple the Roman army of
occupation and restore the kingdom to Israel (Acts 1:6). Many of
them would have begun to have second thoughts: Is Jesus really the
expected Messiah? Is he really the Anointed of God who is to come?
Should we go along with him to the showdown in Jerusalem or should
we back off before it is too late? At this point Jesus must have
felt much like Elisha in front of his perplexed servant Gehazi.
So Jesus decides to do pretty much what Elisha did.
So one fine morning, a few days after,
Jesus invites the three leaders of the group of apostles, Peter,
James and John, to go with him for a prayer session on the mountains.
The mountain is a place of encounter with God. Moses encountered
God on the mountain, and so did Elijah. On the mountain Jesus goes
into prayer. And the eyes of the apostles, their spiritual eyes,
were opened and they caught a glimpse of the true reality of Jesus
that their physical eyes never saw. Then they saw that the whole
heavenly court was on the side of Jesus. And they heard the voice
of the invisible God, "This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to
him" (Luke 9:35). This was all the confirmation they needed.
Jesus was indeed the expected one. Heaven itself has borne witness.
Now they would listen to him and follow him all the way to the shameful
suffering and death in Jerusalem. But no matter what happens they
are now sure of one thing: God is on the side of Jesus; final victory
will therefore be his.
How often do we experience the absurdities
of life such that our minds are filled with doubt and we question:
Where is God? Think of people who have experienced the scandalous
lives, the deep-rooted individualism and insensitivity of church
people, and they ask, "How can God be in this place."
Many of these end up giving up the faith. Think of people who are
traumatized by their experience of social injustice and discrimination.
They apply for a job and people who are less qualified than they
get the job because they have the right connections or the right
accent. They see people advancing in society through unfair means
and they ask: Where is God? Or you may know someone undergoing personal
and family crisis such as terminal illness, breakdown of relationship
between husband and wife, between parent and child, between friends.
Don't we sometimes feel like the whole
world is collapsing on our heads? At times like these we need to
go up the mountain of prayer and ask God to open our eyes that we
may see. When God grants us a glimpse of eternity then we shall
realize that all our troubles in this life are short-lived. Then
shall we have the courage to accept the meaningless suffering of
this life, knowing that through it all God is on our side. All it
takes is a little glimpse of heaven to empower us to take up our
daily crosses and follow Jesus, knowing that the cross of Lent is
followed by the victory of Easter.
Like Last Sunday's Gospel, this is a
story with a strong theological overlay. However, Jesus surely had
an experience of his Father in heaven at some point in his public
life in which he perceived that it was necessary for him to go to
Jerusalem and like the prophets die for the good news he had come
to preach. The disciples did not understand this experience then.
Nor is it clear that we understand it now. Jesus saw that, like
all humans, he had to die. He also perceived that is death, like
all deaths, would be horrible, though more horrible than most. Nonetheless
because he was confident of His Father's love for him, we went to
Jerusalem bravely because he knew that ultimately God would vindicate
the good news with his powerful love. So we must understand that
God too will vindicate us eventually and that Jesus will accompany
us down into the valley of death. Lent, in a way, is more about
our own deaths and resurrections than it is about Jesus's.
Once there was a scientist who believed
in nothing at all. He enjoyed especially putting down those who
had near death experiences (NDE) in which they were revived after
they clinically died. It was all brain chemistry, he insisted, an
evolutionary adjustment for a species that was conscious of its
own mortality. There was no tunnel, no figure in white at the end
of it, no choice about whether to stay or come back. It was all
an illusion caused by the brain chemicals that were released at
the moment of death. Then he had a heart attack and was clinically
dead when they got him to the hospital. However, the doctors revived
him and he reported that he had indeed gone through an NDE. It was
an illusion, he insisted, caused by brain chemicals. I still do
not believe in anything at all except science. When we are dead,
we are dead and that's that. However, he seemed less afraid of death
than most of his atheist colleagues. One of them asked him if he
was not afraid that he might be wrong. Promise you won't quote me?
Yes. Well, I figure that if the NDE was all an illusion then I have
nothing to lose by saying it was an illusion. On the other hand,
if the person in white that the brain chemicals made me imagine
is real, well there's so much love there, I have nothing to lose
either because I will be forgiven. So it's a good gamble. Oh, said
his colleague.
Made New
Wasting Space
Into the Middle
of Things
But for the Grace
of God
Seize the Opportunity
Writing on present-day spirituality,
David Knight said some thought-provoking things about religious
practice in America. "As a priest, I seldom encounter real
conversion in confession. Most people who come to confession are
not repenting; they are just showing concern about their faults.
And sometimes they are not even concerned about their faults, but
rather about the consequences of those faults." (D. Knight,
His Way, p. 94.)
For example a normally good-living man
believes from the outset that it is an evil thing to take intoxicating
drink to excess, but despite this he gets drunk repeatedly. He feels
sorry afterwards, but quite often it is really being sorry for himself
- perhaps because people have begun to gossip about his failing-because
he is losing his self-respect - or because he is spending too much.
Yet by no means do these reactions denote conversion or repentance,
because there is no real change of heart. Conversion is not even
a matter of changing behaviour but rather a complete inner spiritual
revolution, which renews one's mind, and gives it an entirely new
outlook. Sacred Scripture says, "Your hearts and minds must
be made completely new, and you must put on the new self, which
is created in God's likeness and reveals itself in the true life
that is upright and holy" (Eph 4:23).
The parable of the fig tree brings home
to us that, if things in the natural world are of no value whatsoever,
they are destined for extinction. The most searching question God
can put to us humans, when we come face to face with him hereafter
will be, "What purpose was served by your existence in the
world?" Just as the fig tree was given a reprieve, a second
chance, it can be said that, time after time, all of us without
exception are given the opportunity to redeem ourselves, to change.
But it is obvious that a time will come when the chance offered
us will be final, and by our own choice we will cut ourselves off
from God, or become united for ever with Christ our Redeemer.
For all of us conversion is our response
to the call of God deep down within us - a response made possible
only by the grace of God. Behind the story of Moses and the "burning
bush" there is a conversion. In the loneliness of the mountain
slopes of Horeb, or Sinai, Moses reflecting on the plight of his
people, began to see the events of the past in a new light. Life
for the Israelites, he realised, had become that of slavery and
bondage. And Moses felt that God, in making all this clear to him,
was also calling on him to make a decision, to accept a role of
responsibility in the deliverance of his people - a personal responsibility
so demanding on all his energy and powers, that later on, in the
desert, he was to beseech God to kill him rather than that he should
be shouldered with this burden any longer (Num 11:15). The call
to conversion, then, is more than a call to amend our lives, or
fulfil our moral duties.
To be converted is to reject all those
enslaving influences which keep the soul chained in the grip of
evil; it is to rise above the twin obsessions of people since life
began - namely the hunger for life, and the fear of death; and it
is the entrusting of oneself, from now on, to God, a willingness
to travel along that unexpected, unchartered way into the future
which God has chosen for each of us. Some conversions have been
clearly marked by dramatic happenings, such as those of Mary Magdalene,
Paul, Augustine, Ignatius Loyola, Matt Talbot, but more often the
pilgrimage of a soul to God is gradual and hidden. Conversion, in
other words, is not a once-off occurrence, but rather an on-going
experience. We must be constantly renewing our commitment to the
following of Christ, grasping the opportunity presented now, and
not being complacent in the fond hope that salvation is always available.
For we know not the day nor the hour when we will stand before God's
judgment seat.
This is the gospel message today, the
lesson of the fig tree that no longer yielded fruit; and it sounds
a warning to every one of us. The one who thinks he is safe must
take heed lest he fall. And we must not wait until to-morrow to
do something about it. Deathbed conversions are rare. As God said
to the Israelites through Joshua, when they entered the Promised
Land, "Choose today whom you wish to serve" (Josh 24:15),
even so he is now likewise saying clearly to us. "Behold, now
is the acceptable time; now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor
6:2).
The great German statesman, Otto von
Bismarck, is reputed to have said about the Irish vis-Ã -vis the
Dutch: "If Ireland had been inhabited by the Dutch, it would
be the bread-basket of Europe, while if Holland had been occupied
by the Irish, it would long ago have been overrun by the sea."
It might be argued - though it probably would not have impressed
Bismarck - that the Irish possess other gifts which enhance the
quality of life, like sociability and humour, notably lacking among
the industrious Dutch, and indeed, among Bismarck's own rather dour
compatriots. But when it comes to industriousness, even the most
fervent Irishman is forced to admit that Ireland leaves a lot to
be desired. When I first travelled in Europe, I was instantly struck
by the extensive cultivation of the land. There did not seem to
be an inch of ground left fallow between Le Havre and Paris. Nothing
but huge expanses of land growing maize, wheat, corn and other crops
I could not even identify. I later saw the same in Germany in places
like the Ruhr valley, where factory smoke-towers stood out in large
fields of corn, like ships in the ocean. Returning home, I encountered
again what we euphemistically call the wild Irish countryside, large
tracts of which seem to have been untouched by human hand. It seems
ironic that a people who fought so long and so passionately for
the land, should have neglected it so much.
All of which brings me to the parable
of the barren fig tree. It is a parable of our own lives. All of
us have been given a patch of ground in the Lord's vineyard, where
we are expected to produce fruit. And for that it has to be cultivated.
Each one's patch is different, often yielding different fruit. Many
chose to rear families. Some also run businesses or contribute to
the running of them or work at different levels in institutions.
Nowadays a large percentage is engaged in what are called the "caring"
industry, working in education, medicine, the social services, religion,
as teachers, doctors, nurses, social workers, priests and in similar
fields. And if we are to bear fruit in our lives, the crop has to
come largely from those fields.
It is a salutary thing to take stock
of our little holdings and see what our returns are like. A farmer
likes to take a stroll on a summer's evening, after the day's work
is done, through his land. And there, leaning up against a farmyard
gate and pulling on his pipe, he casts his eye over the growing
crops and the grazing animals, thinking about what he has done and
what remains to be done to ensure a good harvest. So it should be
with us. We could take stock of the quality of our family life,
of our involvement or lack of it in our community, of our commitment
to our jobs and our colleagues, over and above the statutory requirement.
We all find a niche for our selves in this world where we become
entrenched. We feel we've earned our place. But we have to go on
earning our place.
Otherwise, like the barren fig-tree,
we are only "taking up the ground." There are few of us,
if we are humble enough, who would not admit that maybe someone
else could do a better job than us. None of us is indispensable.
Not even Bismarck, with his enormous contribution to the creation
of Germany. Modern Germany would have come into being without him
and possibly without such horrendous consequences to the Germans
and the rest of the world.
Like the barren fig tree, we are all
given many chances to bear fruit. Let today's gospel be one of them.
We pray:
- that we may earnestly cultivate that
corner of the Lord's vineyard assigned to us.
- that we may keep our lives in perspective
by realising that we are all dispensable.
- that our Christian lives may bear
fruit.
In today's gospel, Jesus tries to draw
his hearers into the middle of things. Rather than looking on, and
debating why this is happening, or why that happened, he asks them
to look at themselves, at their own situation, and become more concerned
with what's happening or not happening there. He uses an illustration
to show them how many chances they are getting, how patient and
tolerant God is with them. He goes on to say that this will not
go on indefinitely, and that, sooner or later, they will be responsible,
and will be held responsible for what they have done, and for what
they have failed to do.
My own mother could always be drawn
on an incident that happened to her, as she tended the garden. She
liked gardening, and, within reason, she could be said to have had
green fingers. She had her own favourite plants and flowers, and
these were always in a place that was in full view of all passers-by.
One year she had a real problem with a row of sweet pea she had
sown. They appeared above ground, but never showed any hope that
they were going to come to anything. She gave them her attention
every single day, buying nutrients for them, watering them regularly,
and adjusting the rods that help keep them in an upward position.
Despite her best efforts, they continued to remain sickly, forlorn,
and, indeed, a serious blotch on her otherwise well-kept garden.
One day, in total frustration, she just pulled them all up, and
threw them over the hedge into an adjoining field. She replaced
them with some other species of flower. And here's where the analogy
with today's gospel ends. Imagine her amazement, then, when some
weeks later, she was in the adjoining field, and her attention was
drawn to a beautiful selection of pretty and healthy sweet-peas,
growing close to the hedge, just beside her front garden. To the
day she died she wondered just how that could have happened. I myself
don't have the answer. All I know is that something happened, something
changed, and the result was totally different.
Salvation is a word that is often used
in connection with the work and mission of Jesus. It is not exactly
the same as Redemption, which means to buy back something or someone
who is enslaved, owned, or in bondage to another. Salvation is not
something I get when I die. It is the grace I get to start again
any time I so choose. This is a vital concept for us, because, as
humans, we will always continue to fail and to fall. If there was
no such thing as salvation, then when we fall, we would stay down,
and there would be no comeback. St Augustine says that our glory
consists not in never falling, but in getting up every time we fall.
To get up and start again is heaven; to stay down is hell.
Jesus compares himself to a vine, and
we are the branches. The branches draw their life from the vine,
and it is the branches that produce the fruit. He said that we didn't
choose him, but he chose us, and he appointed us to bear fruit,
fruit that would remain. Today's gospel speaks about a fig tree
that did not produce fruit. Producing fruit was the whole reason
and purpose of it being planted in the first place. God gives me
nothing for myself. He doesn't give me my gift of speech to go around
talking to myself. As a Christian, I am called into the service
of others. It is in giving that I myself receive.
There are three groups in every society.
There is a small group that cause things to happen. There is a larger
group that watch things happening. And then there's the largest
group who haven't a clue what's happening. Christianity is more
about walking the walk than talking the talk. It is about action,
and not just ideas.
It is never too late for God. The only
"yes" in my life that God is interested in is my "yes"
of now. He is totally a God of now. "I am who am." In
today's gospel, the fig tree is given every opportunity, and more
and more time, in the hope that it might produce fruit, and give
some return for the work put into its cultivation. The gardener
asks for one more year, for one more chance. Earlier we are told
that the owner of the farm had come again and again to see if there
was any fruit on it, but each time he was disappointed. Remember
this is a parable, and not a true story. The reference to time is
stressing a lengthy time; something like a lifetime. If the Father
is the owner, and Jesus is the gardener, and we are the fig tree,
then we can view the situation from three different viewpoints.
While the Father is looking for some response, Jesus is pleading
for one more chance, and we, on the other hand, may be happy to
go along with the idea that, yes, we must do something, but not
yet . Why do today what I can put off till to-morrow? All diets
begin on Monday. Jesus tells other parables, like the one about
the servants or the foolish virgins who were caught unawares when
their master returned.
The gospel is an invitation, with RSVP
written all over it. Not to respond is, in itself, a response. Jesus
says "I will not have to judge them. The word I have spoken
to them will be their judge. If I had not come and spoken to them,
they would have an excuse for their sins." By coming to church
here this morning, there is some evidence of response on our part.
Mere presence, of course, as you know, would not be enough, but
at least we have made a start.
Christianity is about walking the walk,
and not just about talking the talk. Faith is not some sort of mental
concept up in my head, like, for example, knowing that Jesus is
God. Satan knows that too. Faith has more to do with my feet than
with my head, when the message has come through the heart, down
to the feet, that inspires some sort of stepping out, leading to
Christianity in action. Remember, I am responsible for what I do,
and for what I have failed to do.
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There was an old man who maintained
his subscription to the daily newspaper even though he had virtually
stopped reading. His neighbour asked him why he maintained a subscription
to a newspaper he never read. This was his reply. "Every morning,
before any other thing, I look up the obituary section of the newspaper
to see if my name is there. If I don't find my name there, I kneel
down and thank God for the gift of another day. That is why I subscribe
to the daily newspaper."
Imagine today's gospel as giving us
a rare glimpse into the obituary section of a Jerusalem daily newspaper
one day in the lifetime of Jesus. That particular day, the story
of the dead took up not only the obituary section but the front
page headlines as well: "Blood Bath in the Temple, Pilate Slaughters
Suspected Galilean Terrorists," "Tower of Siloam Collapses,
18 People Feared Dead."
What was the common reaction of the
religious people of Jerusalem to such news of human disaster and
misfortune? About the Galileans they probably said, "Serves
them right. Death to the terrorists." About those crushed to
death they would say, "Well, that is an act of God. God knows
why those eighteen deserve to die at this time, in this manner."
And they would flip the page for more interesting news, such as
the survivor in the previous day's gladiator show in the amphitheatre.
The people who broke the news to Jesus
conveyed it with the same "serves-them-right" attitude.
Jesus could not contain himself in the face of such ignorance and
self-justification.
Do you think that because these Galileans
suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?
No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they
did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam
fell on them - do you think that they were worse offenders than
all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you
repent, you will all perish just as they did (Luke 13:2-5).
In the face of a natural disaster or
personal misfortune befalling other people, it is wrong to suppose
that they must have done something to deserve it which those who
are free from the disaster did not do. The right disposition is
to realise that it could happen to anybody, and that if it does
not happen to us at this time, it is because of God's mercy and
love and not because we have deserved it. The Reverend John Bradford
(1510-1555) was asked what he though of the criminals who were being
led to public execution, and his reply was: "But for the grace
of God, there goes John Bradford." We can see the same attitude
in our old man who reads the obituary column everyday. He knows
that but for the grace of God his name would be there on that page.
The attitude of "but for the grace
of God, there go I" helps us make the best of the opportunity
God gives us in prolonging our lives from day to day, from week
to week, from year to year. We realise that, like the barren fig
tree, the extra time has been given to us for a purpose, as a chance
to bear fruit. The misfortunes of the less fortunate are not an
occasion to stand in judgment over them but an invitation to humble
repentance, knowing that "unless you repent, you will all perish
just as they" (v. 5). Next time we hear about earthquakes and
plane crashes in the news, let us realise that it could happen to
anybody, and that if we have been spared such disasters it is so
that we might repent and bear fruit worthy of repentance.
Today, let us thank God for the "gardeners"
who mediate and intercede for us before God. We know that Jesus
is the Great Gardener who intercedes and mediates for us. In practice,
however, Jesus fulfills this role through women and men who function
as members of Christ's body. The gardeners in our lives who have
helped us to move from barrenness to fruitfulness include our parents,
teachers, pastors, friends, and even our enemies who have motivated
us by their bitter criticism which more often than not turns out
to be true. We thank God for them, we thank God for giving us another
opportunity this Lent, and we promise to make the best use of this
season of grace to repent more and to bear more fruit in our lives.
The parable of the fig tree as told
today is one of Jesus's familiar parables of urgency. Don't waste
your time. It is later than you think. Those whom Pilate killed
thought they had more time. So did those people on whom the tower
fell. So did those who died in the Oklahoma City bombing. So did
those who were killed in that plane crash, flood, hurricane, earthquake.
Seize the opportunity of the present while its there. Don't put
it off. Live fully, that is faithfully, while you can. It's a familiar
enough message and it makes a lot of sense, but still we try not
to believe it, to pretend that it really isn't later than we think.
This Lent would be a good time to change our minds.
Once there was a couple who won a great
prize, a two week trip to Ireland (or the destination of your choice).
They had a whole year to make the trip. Well, said the wife, let's
not do it this summer, because we don't want to interfere with our
summer at the lake. And we can't go in September because that's
when the kids go back to school. Then it came to be late October,
before anyone knew it, and the husband said, well we can't go over
the holidays. That's right, his wife agreed. Let's wait till after
the first of the year. However, someone told them that the days
were terrible short in Ireland in January and February and besides
the weather wasn't good (as thought it is predictably good any time.).
So they said, well, let's wait till spring when we know there'll
be good weather and we don't have to worry about the snow closing
airports in this country. So finally they made reservations for
the first week in May. The weather was supposed to be good in Ireland
and the days were long and it was the best time in the year to go
(and if you believe there is any best time, you'll believe that
chickens have lips.). They admitted that they were cutting it close
because their prize ran out on June 1, but they were sure nothing
would go wrong. Then the husband had a gallbladder attack and required
surgery. The doctors said he would be able to travel, oh, by the
middle of June.
Prodigal Son
Until you are Reconciled
The Prodigal
Forgiving Father
Two Sons
They say that's the best short story
that was ever written. Charles Dickens thought so anyway. Some of
its phrases are so powerful that they have become proverbial. Prodigal
Son. . , fatted calf. . . lost and found. A story that has enriched
the vocabulary of the world. And not just the world's vocabulary
- the world's mentality as well. Its way of looking at things. No
story tells us more about God or makes us feel better about ourselves.
It's a short story with enormous scope, with the widest possible
diameter, in that it embraces our sinfulness at one end and God's
forgiveness at the other. The best part of it, of course, is that
it brings both extremities to the centre.
What provoked it? What led Our Lord
to tell it? The fact that the Pharisees objected to the company
he kept, to his eating "with sinners. So he tells the story
to give an insight into his own mind and the mind of God.
The story itself falls into three parts.
The first part is about the younger son. A lad who "wanted
his inheritance now. Couldn't wait for the father to die. Greedy
fingers, itchy feet, a sensual nature. Live it up, to hell with
the commandments. A life based on seLf-indulgence, doing what you
feel like doing - not an unfamiliar story in any generation, including
our own. "Sure you might as well, life is short, as long as
you're enjoying yourself, as long as you're happy." But the
happiness ran out, and "he came to his senses" (Lk 15:17).
And that's the big point about him. "He came to his senses."
He was really repentant. You know yourself that repentance is to
be sorry to be in one place, to want to be in another, and to have
the will and determination to get there. To be sorry for our sins,
to want a different kind of life, and to have the motivation and
determination to change. Well, he had that. He was graced with that.
"I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer
deserve to be called your son; treat me as one of your hired men"
(Lk 17:19). As I say, the big thing about him is that he acknowledged
his sins and wanted to be rid of them. He was really repentant.
The second part of the story is about
the father. And when you think about it, it's truly extraordinary.
The Gospel says: "While he was still a long way off, his father
saw him" (Lk 15-20). Still a long way off, a dot on the horizon.
Doesn't that mean he was on the look.out for him, from the day he
left, watching and waiting and praying, like many a father or mother?
Doesn't it illustrate how God the Father feels about each one of
us, how much every one of us matters to him, how anxious he is that
we'd come back? And he didn't just wait for the son; he ran out
to meet him - met him half-way. Some people feel we should call
this story "the Prodigal Father." To be prodigal is to
be wasteful or lavish in your use of things. Well, the father threw
his forgiveness around. Not in any grudging or reproving way, but
in an explosion of sheer generosity and joy: Kill the calf, we're
having a feast, the son is alive again. The two big points about
the father were the prodigality of his forgiveness and the intensity
of his joy: "There will be more rejoicing in Heaven over one
sinner repenting than over ninety-nine upright people who have no
need of repentance" (Lk 15:7). Remember that?
The third part of the story concerns
the older son. Boy was he angry. He couldn't enter into the mood
of the party at all. He wouldn't even go in. His attitude is understandable
and he's treated with sympathy, but his attitude helps to illustrate,
yet again, how much more forgiving God is than we are, and how inclusive,
all-embracing, God's love is. It includes the two of them - the
rock and the rover. "My son you are with me always and all
I have is yours. But it was only right that we should celebrate
and rejoice, because your brother here was dead and has come to
life; he was lost and is found" (Lk 15:31, 32).
The story of the Prodigal Son needs
no elaboration. That is its greatest strength as a piece of narrative.
It's a form of presumption really to be commenting on it at all.
The only respectful response to it is personal reflection Just think
about it. Savour it. Let it sink in. We'll all take away different
pieces of it, because that's the way it is with everything we hear.
I doubt if any of us will leave behind the central message, however;
that there is no limit to God's forgiveness and that our repentance
is not just a condition of his forgiveness but a source of unconfined,
indeed infinite, joy. You think God doesn't want us to turn away
from sin? You think God doesn't love you? You haven't been listening.
"If you are bringing your offering
to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something
against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and
be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present
your offering" (Mt 5:24). This is the warning given by Jesus
himself in his Sermon on the Mount, and it is one that every Christian
should ponder over, especially before celebrating the Blessed Eucharist.
Before we can hope, in any meaningful way, to experience the presence
of God, we must first endeavour, not only to be at peace with God,
but also be reconciled with members of the community of which we
are part. This theme of reconciliation, and of the joy that arises
from it, is something which is highlighted in all the readings today.
There is the joy of the Israelites eating
the first Passover meal in the Promised Land, after the often bitter
quarrels which marked their sojourn in the desert; there is the
joy of the Christians realising that they, however unworthy, are
ambassadors for Christ; and above all there is the tremendous joy
of the father in the gospel story that describes the return of his
prodigal son, despite everything that son had done. We might say
that in all this we are being urged to reflect on the necessity
of repentance in our lives, and especially on our attitude towards
the sacrament of reconciliation, the sacrament of penance. We keep
on referring to this sacrament as confession; but the greatest and
most essential part of the sacrament is not confessing all our sins,
or even being sorry for them, however necessary these may be. No,
the greatest and most wonderful thing is that God forgives our sin,
and the sacrament is meant to be a celebration of our restoration
to friendship with God.
This is depicted for us in a most wonderful
way by St Luke, in what we refer to as the parable of the Prodigal
Son, but which should more rightly be called the parable of the
Loving Father, a father who lavishes love and forgiveness on his
erring son, and rejoices and celebrates at his son's return. This
was a son who had sunk to desperate depths. Having squandered in
sinful living the share of the family inheritance due to him, he
was reduced to looking after swine - animals abhorred in Jewish
tradition as being unclean - and he even joined with them in eating
the same food. "When he came to himself, Jesus says, he decides
to return to his father's house, meaning that a person is not truly
himself/ herself while trying to keep God at a distance. In his
joy at his son's return, the father almost forgets the dignified
bearing of a Jewish parent, the filial respect commanded by a father
in those times. We need only think of the young man, elsewhere in
the gospel, whom Jesus invited to be his disciple, and who wanted
to delay making his decision. "Let me first go and bury my
father," he said. Jesus' reply, "Let the dead bury their
dead," sounds harsh to us, rather like a refusal to allow him
attend his own father's funeral, but what the young man really asked
was that he be allowed stay in the family home until after his father's
death whenever in the future that should take place, a custom in
the Middle-East still followed even in the beginning of the last
century. The father in the parable, however, does not stand on his
parental dignity. He runs out to meet his son, he doesn't allow
him finish what he had intended to ask, namely, to be treated as
a hired servant. He puts a robe on him as a sign that he is being
reinstated as a member of the family, a ring on his finger to indicate
that he will have authority within the home once more, and sandals
on his feet to show that he is no longer a slave. A feast is made
that all may rejoice at his return, for this son was dead and has
come back to life, was lost and is found.
What Jesus is telling us in all this
is that God the Father likewise rejoices when a sinner seeks reconciliation
with him once more. In the actions of the elder brother we see typified
the outlook of the Pharisees, who had lost the vision of themselves
as being children of God. Indeed the elder brother, by choice, was
more of a hired servant that a son. "All these years I have
slaved for you," he said to his father, "and never once
disobeyed you." There was little love in his life, but rather
a soul-destroying bitterness towards his father for welcoming home
his brother. Do we bear a grudge towards such a loving God, who
in Christ loved us even unto death on a Cross, when instead our
attitude should surely be, "What can I render to God, for all
that he has done for me?'
No matter how often I read this parable
of the Prodigal Son I am always left with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction.
Rather than coming away with the overpowering sense of the mercy
of God as shown to the Prodigal, I'm somewhat irked by his partiality,
which is suggested by his exchange with the elder son.
Fathers do have favourite sons. I've
seen them listening to complaints about the apple of their eyes
and shaking their heads in disbelief. "You don't know him.
He's not like that at all. He couldn't do a thing like that. It's
just not in him." And you the teacher, the priest, the guard,
the neighbour, are a nosey busybody, a crank. He might even feel
sorry for you. And it is not so with all his sons. "I don't
know what to do with him, Father. He has my heart broken. I can't
understand him. He's driving me crazy." Could it be that the
Prodigal was the favourite?
Or is it that we know too many elder
sons too well? Lads who have stayed at home to care for ageing parents.
And by the time they have buried their parents, they have buried
with them the best years of their lives. Theirs was a hard life
and if they had grudges it was hard to blame them. There is a photo
on the mantlepiece in many a country home, which shows him standing
outside the old place, surrounded by his brother and his family
back on a trip from the States. It's a telling picture. There he
is in his peaked cap and collarless shirt, lean, lined, weather-beaten
face, looking more like the father than the brother of the returned
Yank.
Besides most of us probably identify
with the elder son. The monotony of our lives make us resentful
of the Prodigal's swinging escapade. We grudge the sinner his good
times. It is probably why we accept the doctrine of retribution
so unquestioningly. What makes our lives a little more tolerable
is the thought that our good times are all before us and part of
them, which we can savour now, is that the playboys of this world
will pay in full for their pleasures. So in this story the elder
son is carrying the standard of all the solid citizens, all the
responsible members of the community, "the salt of the earth',
while behind the banner of the Prodigal huddle all that tattered
mob of misfits, drop-outs, lame-ducks and the rest of the world's
rejects.
The really puzzling thing about this
parable is, why did Christ bother with this epilogue on the elder
son at all? Surely if the message of the parable is the boundless
mercy of God towards the sinner, then by the time the festivities
for the returned Prodigal are in full swing, we've got the message.
The remainder adds nothing except to divert some of our sympathy
towards the resentful elder son. Of one thing we can be sure, knowing
the storyteller, it must have a point. He was a master of his craft.
Look again at it, but this time if you can, through the eyes of
one of the world's rejects, a dropout, a misfit, or one of the many
physically, mentally or socially handicapped. Perhaps this is Christ's
answer to their agonised cry: "Why me? Why was I singled out
for a life of frustration? Why should I have been a faulty creation?"
What the grudging elder son failed to see was that the world's prodigals
are victims more often than not and have more claims on God's love
and forgiveness.
We pray:
- that we may show our Father's forgiveness
for the world's prodigals.
- for bitterly divided families that
they may be reconciled.
- for ourselves that no matter how far
we stray from God's grace we will always have the courage to return
to our Father for forgiveness.
Today's gospel contains a core message
of the teaching of Jesus, which we call the story of the Prodigal
Son. It could also be called the story of the Forgiving Father.
In itself it is a summary of the whole gospel. Please notice how
today's gospel begins. All the outcasts of his day flocked around
Jesus, and he welcomed them, and he sat down to eat with them. It
was when the religious leaders complained about this that Jesus
responded with this story. It was a strong, a brave, and a clear
response, that left them in no doubt about where he stood regarding
such people. What really drew the wrath of the religious leaders
was the implication that this was how God felt towards them also.
It was this definite attitude of Jesus that brought about his death,
because, in the eyes of the religious people of his day, this was
reckless disregard for law.
Imagine the following scene in a courtroom.
There is a young man in the dock, charged with murder. In front
of him sits a judge who will decide the appropriate punishment,
if he is found guilty. To his right sits the jury, who will decide
on his guilt or innocence. Around him are the legal eagles that
will argue the law, with all of its sections and sub-sections, one
trying to prove his guilt, and the other his innocence. In the main
body of the court are journalists who are looking for a story with
a catchy headline for the papers on the following day. Present also
are the curious, drawn here to look at him, to listen to all the
gory details, and to have some sort of Peeping-Tom role in the goings-on.
In the back of the room sit his parents.
They see everything everybody sees, and they hear everything everybody
else hears. Try to imagine, if you can, the difference between what
is going on in their hearts, and what is happening in the hearts
of those around them. Their real pain lies, not in believing that
he is innocent, but in knowing that, of all the people in the room,
they are the only ones who would love to give him another chance.
They experience powerlessness, because they have no role to play,
their feelings are not part of the proceedings. They desperately
cling to the slimmest hope that, maybe, just maybe, their son may
get another chance. Imagine their joy if the case was dismissed,
and their son turns around to face them
If Jesus were on this earth for three
minutes, instead of thirty-three years, he could have summarised
his message through the use of this story. The Prodigal Son got
it wrong, wrong. To this day the Jews consider pigs as unclean.
For this young man to end up feeding pigs was bad enough, but to
end up sharing their food with them was Skid Row to the highest
degree. This boy had really hit bottom, and, in human terms, there
was no hope or future for him. There was one thing that saved him.
He remembered. He remembered what it used to be like. This set in
motion a whole line of thought that brought him to his senses. In
other words, he opened his eyes and saw, he opened his ears and
heard, he reached out his hand and touched his surroundings, and
he smelt the stench of the situation in which he was. In other words
he came to his senses.
He headed for home, for the only place
where he had ever experienced love. The love was still there, and
his father rushed out to meet him. No condemnation, no lectures,
no scolding just a warm hug. The son had prepared a speech, but
he had only begun when his words were swallowed in his father's
embrace. A festive meal was prepared, he was dressed in the finest
clothes, and, significantly, his father ordered that he be given
new sandals. The significance of this was that sandals were worn
only when one headed off on a journey. This was the father's way
of saying that the welcome was so unconditional that, if his son
so chose, he could head off again on his travels.
And then there was the second son. A
lot of people would feel sorry for this guy. After all, he had remained
at home, had worked hard, had earned his crust, doing his best to
be everything a son was supposed to be. One can understand his anger
and his resentment. However, the father, who is love personified,
while accepting that the son returning from the fields has been
a good son, is quite definite that the son in most need is the one
who should get the most attention. Because he is coming from the
angle of real love, there is absolutely no question or discussion
about which son deserves or does not deserve a celebration. Love
is unconditional, it cannot be earned. Because the father in the
story is intended to represent God the Father, there is a powerful
message here for all of us. The lesson is so clear that it is one
gospel that requires little explanation. It does, however, require
a definite response .
One final thought: In the normal course
of a lifetime, I may well find that, at various times, I have been
the prodigal son at one stage, and the self-righteous son at another.
The prodigal could well be lurking within me, awaiting my forgiveness.
The love of the father is directed towards getting one to embrace
the other. Make friends with your shadow.
This poor man lucked out with neither
of his sons. He loved them both and they both were goofs. The first
was too wild, the second was too rigid and nasty. Neither one appreciated
their father's love. Both tried to exploit him. What's more he knew
they were exploiting him. This is not a story of a prodigal son,
but of an indulgent father, indeed of a hyper-indulgent father.
Note that he runs to meet the first son and cuts off his phony speech.
Note too that he is incredibly patient with the mean-spirited and
ungrateful second son. This story is not supposed to provide a model
for family life. Rather it tells us that God loves us like the indulgent
father, so much that by human standards, he's quite over the top.
Once there were two teenagers whose
parents went away for the weekend. As some teenagers do, they decided
they would have a party. You know the rest. A couple hundred people
showed up. They drank all the family liquor, trashed the house,
tore up the garden, wrecked the family cars, burned down the garage,
smashed the windows in the neighbouring homes, rioted when the police
came, and even threw beer cans on the rectory lawn (Really.). When
the parents came home to find the national guard patrolling their
streets, they said to their children, "You shouldn't have done
that." "Why not?" asked the kids. "You went
away; it's your fault, not ours. You should have never trusted us."
But the parents love their children so much that they weren't angry
at them. That's the way God loves us.
Pharisaic Motivation
Throwing Stones
Where Jesus stands
Justice Giving
Way to Mercy
If you read the Bible carefully and
reflect on the events described in it, you can gain extraordinary
insights into the character and outlook of some of the people whose
memory is enshrined for ever in its pages. Recently we celebrated
the feast of St Joseph, and the gospel tells of his reaction to
the discovery that Mary was with child before their marriage was
consummated. Joseph being a just man, wanting to spare Mary from
public disgrace and shame, decided to separate from her secretly,
as the Law permitted. But being warned in a dream, he refrained
from doing this.
What a stark contrast there is between
the reaction of Joseph and that of the Pharisees in today's gospel
story. These latter brought the woman taken in adultery into the
Temple precincts, a place much frequented by all kinds of people,
and made her stand before everyone in as public a manner as possible.
In such cases they insisted that the penalty to be exacted should
be strictly in accord with the full rigour of the Mosaic Law, namely
death by stoning. But the Pharisees here were not so much motivated
by zeal for the Law, as in using the woman merely as a pawn, in
a scheme of theirs to discredit Jesus. If, for example, in response
to their query, "What have you to say?" Jesus were to
reply, "Let the woman go free," then they would feel justified
in accusing him of breaking the Mosaic Law as well as condoning
adultery. If, however, he were to say, "Let her be stoned to
death," then not only could it be claimed that he was lacking
in mercy, but also he could be accused of going against the legal
restrictions of the Roman authorities, who at this time reserved
for themselves alone the right to impose the death penalty. But
Jesus saw through their plotting and made them withdraw in confusion.
The intriguing question is what did
Jesus write with his finger on the ground. The account of St John
gives us a possible clue. He does not use the normal Greek word
for "write" (graphein), but rather one (katagraphein)
which means to draw up a list against someone. From this some have
suggested that Christ listed on the ground the sins of each of the
woman's accusers, and so his challenge that the one without sin
should cast the first stone met with no response. Although Jesus
did not condemn the woman, neither did he condone what she had done.
"Don't sin any more," was his invitation and warning to
her.)
In the case of the Pharisees, as we
see, and indeed in the case of most of us, there is the subtle danger
of creating God in our own image and likeness, imagining him to
be a stern and demanding God, who takes revenge, who loves to punish,
who can be persuaded to forgive only after we have made a great
show of repentance. Such of course is a mere caricature of God.
At best this kind of religion can be cold and loveless. At worst,
as St Paul says in the Second Reading, trying to form a right relationship
with God by mere adherence to the Law and all its ways can be as
worthless as the rubbish one throws away. It is only when we allow
the love of God, as seen in Christ, to encompass our lives, to change
our inner being, that we begin to understand Christianity.
Contrary to the thinking of the Pharisees,
we must get rid of the tendency to regard ourselves as better than
others, no matter what commandments we keep; nor must we judge and
condemn others. Rather should we be generous, forgiving and loving
towards others. From the gospel story we see that the worst of the
seven deadly sins is not lust as so many think. Indeed, Christ's
harshest condemnation was reserved for those who, like the Pharisees,
in their pride and self-righteousness shut themselves off from God,
who felt no need to ask God for help and grace. We cannot be true
followers of Christ unless we acknowledge our frailty, our sinfulness,
our need for his help which alone can save us. When we do fall we
gain a deeper understanding of the extraordinary mercy God is prepared
to extend to the sinner. For our sins make no difference to God's
enduring love for us.
St Paul says that all things work together
for the good of those who love God (Rom 8:28), and St Augustine
adds, "Yes, even sin." And St Augustine, from bitter personal
experience, knew all about the false allure of sin, how difficult
it is often to break away from it, and how God's love alone can
help us conquer it.
Years ago, when the fiery Ayatollah
Khomeini of Iran called for the execution of the British writer
Salman Rushdie, whose novel The Satanic Verses he denounced
as blasphemous, it sent shock-waves round the world. There was an
immediate outcry everywhere at the barbaric fulmination of a religious
fanatic. Even though some people thought that Rushdie's book was
in bad taste, that it deliberately offended many Muslims, that it
derided one of the great world religions and violated the Koran,
they were horrified at the Ayatollah's decree. There were vehement
protests and much righteous indignation expressed. Now, the Ayatollah
is long since dead, but Salman Rushdie is still in hiding, with
twenty-four hour police protection.
It struck me at the time that much of
the indignation was self-righteous, or at least, that many of the
loudest protesters were hardly in a position to throw stones. A
few months earlier, a short distance away from where I was then
living in Paris, an attempt was made by some self-professed Christians
to burn down a cinema which was showing Scorsese's film The Last
Temptation of Christ. Fortunately, no lives were lost on that occasion.
A few of my friends were present. Incidents like that cannot be
simply dismissed as the work of a few fanatics. As in Iran, fanaticism
needs a certain climate to thrive in. Rome had previously condemned
Scorsese's film as blasphemous. More recently still, abortion clinics
in the United States were attacked with bombs and doctors who worked
in them shot dead. The perpetrators claimed to be acting in the
name of religion. There are periods of the church's history we would
dearly like to forget, such as the Roman Inquisition and the burning
of heretics at the stake. But their memory lives on, if only as
a stick to beat Rome with. As late as a hundred years ago, an imposing
statue was erected in Campo de Fiori in Rome, a mere stone's throw
from the Vatican, to Bruno, an Italian friar who suffered such a
fate. Quite recently, I noticed that somebody had laid a fresh bouquet
of flowers at its base. Prominent in the fresco depicting the scene
of Bruno's burning, were two fat friars, smirking contentedly.
The world today can be divided in two,
between those who believe in God - whether it be the Christian God
or the Muslim God or a myriad of Hindu Gods and Goddesses - and
those who don't. And when incidents like those occur, we all get
tarred with the same brush. They hurt all believers, and even those
non-believers who are well-disposed to us are confirmed in their
view that the world would be a better place without religion. The
Rushdie's or the Scorsese's are not the real blasphemers.
The incident recorded in today's gospel
shows how Christ reacted to such situations. The scribes and Pharisees
were the religious gurus of their time. They were the officially
accredited experts in the interpretation and application of God's
word.
They thought they would embarrass Jesus
by confronting him with this adulterous woman. The reverse happened.
They, rather than she, received the severer judgement. Closer scrutiny
of the text reveals some surprising detail. The woman was "caught
committing adultery." The sexual act, either licit or illicit,
is never committed in public, either now or then. And people who
commit adultery, then as now, were extremely discreet about it.
That her accusers should have caught her in the act speaks volumes
about them rather than her. It takes two to commit adultery, yet
only the woman is subject to the terrible penalty of stoning proscribed
by their law. People have always been intrigued by what Christ may
have written on the ground with his finger. Commentators have speculated
about what he may have written in clay in letters big enough for
each to read. Perhaps the sins of each of her accusers. We shall
never know. He may simply have doodled in the sand simply to give
them enough time to reflect on the magnitude of the crime they were
about to commit. "If there is one of you who has not sinned,
let him be the first to throw a stone at her." And again the
doodling. Then they began to shuffle off, "beginning with the
eldest', presumably because he had the longest record and knew it.
And soon there was nobody left but the woman herself, probably surrounded
by little abandoned heaps of stones. "Neither do I condemn
you," said Jesus. We, his followers, would do well to be as
sparing in our condemnations as our Master.
We pray:
- that we may be sparing in our condemnations
of others.
- that we may never be guilty of rash
judgement, calumny or detraction of others.
- that we may always seek to interpret
the behaviour of others in a favourable light.
Like last Sunday's gospel, today's gospel
makes a clear statement of where Jesus stands relative to sin and
to sinners. It is the story of the woman taken in adultery. Jesus
does not condemn her, but he adds "Go and sin no more."
In other words, while not approving of the sin, he definitely refuses
to condemn the sinner. Once again, we come up against the conflict
between the love of God, and the demands of the law. According to
the law, this woman should be stoned to death. From God's point
of view, however, it's just not as simple as that. If the law was
fair and consistent, then there should have been a man condemned
to death as well, because she wasn't committing adultery on her
Own. One of the more precious nuggets in today's gospel is the challenge
to the others about whether any of them was in a position to condemn
her, or anyone else. There is a powerful message in today's gospel.
It is some years ago now when I actually
witnessed the following scene. I saw a mother with a son about six
years of age, and a daughter of about four. The young girl was crying
because her brother was after hitting her on the head with his school
bag. The mother lifted the young lad off the ground, gave him a
sharp smack across the face, with the words "I'll teach you
not to hit anyone smaller than yourself.'
We are all familiar with the concern
of parents and teachers about the young people in their care taking
drugs. This is correct and acceptable, but only up to a point. Many
of the same adults can spend quite a lot of time and money buying
and using alcohol, cigarettes, stimulants, and other addictive products.
If they themselves fail to see the contradiction inherent in their
behaviour, they should not expect the younger generation to be as
blind as they are.
Law, in itself, is good and necessary,
but its only purpose is to protect from harm. For example, it is
wrong to drive down the main street of a town at ninety miles an
hour, except one is driving a vehicle involved in some emergency
service. Law is there to protect, not to control. The religious
leaders of Jesus' day used the law almost exclusively as a method
of control. In the past, the church has been guilty of the same
misuse of law, but, thankfully, that is changing today. However,
we still have a long way to go until love takes precedence over
law within the structures of the church.
The gospel tells us that Jesus was writing
with his finger in the dust. We don't know what he was writing,
but it is reasonable to assume that he was signifying the need to
update the law, and write something new. The writing in the dust
wouldn't last long, because the first gust of wind would totally
obliterate it. The woman standing beside him was more important
than any written words, and the law of God that is written within
the hearts of all God's creatures is something that will never be
blown away. I sometimes think that, perhaps, writing in the dust
was Jesus' way of letting them know that he wasn't about to take
them too seriously. They had come to him, in the first place, because
they were anxious to get him to do or say something that would trip
him up, and give them an excuse to condemn him. He wasn't going
to play their game, but, as they insisted, he turned on them and
treated them as they rightly deserved. The kind and compassionate
Jesus could easily be stirred into resounding condemnation by the
trickery and hypocrisy of those whose only love was power and authority.
Guilt is not from God. In the last book
of the Bible, called the Book of Revelations, or the Apocalypse,
we are told that Satan is the accuser of our people. He accuses
them night and day before our God. In today's gospel Jesus says
neither do I condemn you, and in another place he says that he had
not come to condemn the world, but to save it. Guilt is a dangerous
emotion. A leading psychiatrist said some years ago that he could
discharge two-thirds of his patients that day if he could get them
deal with their guilt. Most of the guilt has its origins in religion,
because of the inability of weak human nature to strictly adhere
to thousands of regulations, rules, and commandments. We sin because
we are weak, not because we are evil. It is ironic that, in today's
gospel, and in many other passages of the gospel, Jesus accuses
the religious leaders of their legalism, hypocrisy, and sham while
telling a prostitute or a public sinner "I do not condemn you."
Our church has not been good in this area, and man of us grew up
in a church where sinners were condemned off the altar, were threatened
with hell fire, and were even excluded from church altogether. If
some unfortunate person, because of a brainstorm, or a total inability
to cope, committed suicide, such a person was excluded from a church
funeral. It is amazing just how far we wandered from the simple
message, like the one in today's gospel.
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There is a little known sidelight to
the story of the woman taken in adultery. After the Pharisees brought
her before Jesus for judgment and he said, "Let anyone among
you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her,"
a stone was hurled from the crowd. Jesus looked up, frowned slightly,
and said, "Do you mind, mother? I am trying to make a point
here." In one way this is a good joke because it shows the
natural tendency of good people, like the Pharisees, to throw stones
at those they consider sinners. In other ways it is a bad joke because
it tries to paint Mary in the colour of sinful humanity. The last
person who would want to throw a stone at the sinful woman would
be Mary, God's most favoured one. According to the joke, Jesus says
he is trying to make a point here. What is the point that Jesus
is trying to make? Why would the church give us this story for our
spiritual nourishment on the last Sunday before Holy Week when we
commemorate the suffering and death of Jesus on our behalf?
The story of the woman caught in adultery
has a curious history in the early church. Most ancient bibles do
not have it, some have it as part of a different chapter in the
Gospel of John, and still others have it as part of the Gospel of
Luke. Some scholars think that, originally, this story could have
been part of Luke's Gospel. This is because it reflects themes that
are dear to Luke, such as, concern for sinners, interest in women,
and the compassion of Jesus. The fact that it is missing in some
early bibles and found in different locations in others suggests
that some early Christian communities had removed this story from
their bible. When later Christians tried to put it back into the
Bible, they were no longer sure of its original location.
Why would anyone want to remove this
story from the Bible? There are people who cannot understand why
Jesus would sympathise with a convicted adulterer. After all, it
is decreed in the Bible that such offenders should be put to death
(Leviticus 20:10). Does this not seem like an obstruction of justice?
Remember the case of Karla Faye Tucker, the self-confessed, repentant
murderer who was executed in Texas in face of a storm of protest
from elsewhere. Many Christian organisations, including the Vatican,
had pleaded for her pardon. Yet the execution was carried out. Supporters
of the death penalty argued that no one should interfere with the
course of justice. Well, Jesus just did. There are people who think
that compassion and leniency are a sign of weakness. These are probably
the kind of Christians who tried to suppress the story by removing
it from the church's Bible.
How could Christians read these marvellous
stories of Jesus' compassion and still take a hard line stand with
regard to the correctional services? The answer lies in how one
reads. Some people identify themselves with the Pharisees when they
read the story. Their interest is how to deal with other people
when they deviate from the law. Their answer is usually that justice
should be allowed to run its due course. Now you can begin to understand
why the medieval church did not see anything wrong with burning
"convicted" witches like Joan of Arc on the stake. Didn't
the Bible say that no one who practices sorcery should be allowed
to live (Leviticus 20:27)? That is the law, that is justice. Their
only duty is to implement it.
But when we read the story, identifying
ourselves not with the Pharisees but with the woman herself, then
we begin to see the story for the good news that it really is. Like
the woman, we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.
Like her we all deserve death, for the wages of sin is death. But
when Jesus comes into the picture, he overturns our death sentence.
He sets us free with his words of absolution: "Neither do I
condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again"
(John 8:11). The story shows how Jesus stands up for sinners before
the law. In so doing he draws upon himself the hostility of the
hardline officials who will eventually arrest him and give him a
taste of their justice. The church, I believe, puts this story before
us today so that we can see ourselves in this sinner woman whom
Jesus saves from sure death at the risk of attracting death to himself.
This story then becomes a fitting preparation
for Holy Week when we see Jesus making the ultimate sacrifice to
grant us clemency, we who are already sentenced to death by our
sins. As we prepare for Holy Week, let us thank Jesus for his mercy
and love. And let us promise him that we shall commit ourselves
to doing exactly as he tells us: to go our way into freedom, and
to sin no more.
(Is 50:4-7 - Phil 2:6-11 - Lk 22:14ff)
Scorned and Rejected
Luke's Passion account
Looking back on what happened on the
first Good Friday, it strikes us that there is nothing so terrible,
so soul-destroying for the truly sincere person, who wishes to help
those in need of conversion, than to be met with rejection and injury.
Today we recall how such was the fate of Jesus Christ, God's own
beloved Son. During his earthly life Christ had worked, preached,
striven without sparing himself, in order to deliver people from
the burden of their sins and from the fear of death, only to be
met, for the most part, with a cynical indifference, and finally
to be condemned out of hand to a most cruel death. Long before this,
Nicodemus - the one who came to Jesus by night - had foreseen this
impending tragedy.
He had tried to reason with the chief
priests and Pharisees, "Surely the Law does not allow us to
pass judgment on a man without giving him a hearing, and discovering
what he is about" (Jn 7:50). But the answer he got was the
harsh one of prejudice and bigotry. "Are you a Galilean too?"
they mocked at him. "Examine and see for yourself that prophets
do not come from Galilee." In other words they were fixed in
their mistaken belief that God would never show his saving power
except within the limits of their own little closed group. The thought
of these hardened hearts, of the many who would turn away from his
gospel message of self-commitment to the Father, of the existence
of treachery, even in the ranks of his specially chosen Twelve,
these were some of the things that kept crowding in on Christ's
troubled mind in the darkness of Gethsemane, a darkness that reflected
the dark night of his soul. His human nature rebelled at the seeming
futility of his endeavours, at the inevitability of his being delivered
by the Temple authorities into the hands of the Romans, and at the
thought of the terrible penalty that would be exacted should this
be so.
In the struggle to overcome his natural
fears and revulsion, we are told how the perspiration poured down
his face and became as large drops of blood falling to the ground.
But the greater his suffering, the more intense became his prayer,
and in his prayer of utter abandonment to God he summoned up courage
to face whatever lay before him. "Father, if it is your will,
take this cup away from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."
He had gone into Gethsemane in an agony; he came out with a victory
won, and with peace in his soul, because he had talked with God.
Throughout the several mock trials that ensued, that calm never
left him. Not once, before the high priest and his council, did
he offer a single word in defence of himself, even when they deliberately
employed false witnesses to try and make their trumped-up accusations
stick. But the witnesses contradicted each other; the case against
Jesus was in disarray. At last the high priest asked of Jesus the
kind of question which was strictly forbidden by the Law, a leading
question, whereby the accused would be condemned by his own evidence.
He asked it upon oath, so that an answer had to be given. "I
put you on oath, by the living God, that you tell us whether you
are the Promised one, the Son of God." When Jesus answered
"yes" the charge became blasphemy, and the cross an inescapable
certainty.
But since blasphemy cut no ice with
Pilate, further mention of it was dropped, and the charge against
Jesus before the Roman court was turned into a political one, that
of claiming to be king and telling people not to pay taxes. Fearing
civil disorder, Pilate, although certain the charge was a false
one, yielded to the mob baying for Jesus' blood, in preference even
to that of the renegade Barabbas. Having failed to win their sympathy
by having Jesus scourged, crowned with thorns, mocked as a king,
Pilate handed him over to be crucified. Triumphant now the crowd
followed their victim on his dolorous way to Calvary, mouthing blasphemies,
insults, mockery and derision, until death gave him merciful release.
"Come down from the cross," they taunted Christ, "and
we will believe in you." But it is precisely because he did
not come down, that today we continue to believe in him. For, whereas
the Jews turned their backs on God because he did not reveal himself
as a figure of power, Jesus has shown, for all time, that God is
sacrificial love. From the Father he begged forgiveness for his
executioners. "A man can have no greater love than to lay down
his life for his friends," he had said at the Last Supper,
but the one who would do so for his enemies had to be of divine
origin. Never should we forget the sacrificial offering of himself
for us by God's own divine Son.
This is Luke's account of the passion
and death of Jesus. What makes it different from the accounts in
the other three gospels is that, for one thing, there is much more
space given to the role-played by Peter in the whole scenario. Luke
never actually met Jesus, and it is generally accepted that his
gospel is strongly influenced by his association with Peter. Peter
got it wrong many times, and Luke's gospel recounts most of them.
Standing out, also, is the role of Judas, although, unlike Peter,
who repented and wept bitterly, this gospel spares us the details
of how Judas ended. I suppose it is fair to say that each in his
own way had aspirations of grandeur. They were determined to look
after number one, no matter what happened. I'm not sure that either
of them understood what Jesus meant when he spoke of those who are
the greatest in his kingdom. This account is filled with many and
diverse personalities~ from Herod to Pilate, to the two men being
crucified with Jesus, and, of course, there was Barabbas. It would
prove worthwhile if I took time out to reflect on the role of each,
and to see each one against the role of Jesus, who is at the centre
of the story.
In the midst of all the many scenarios
being acted out around him, stands Jesus, the innocent one. Each
of the others has a personal agenda. It is important that we see
Jesus as standing out from all that surrounds him. He said that
he had come to fulfill a mission, and he could not be at peace until
that mission was completed. His is the centre and key role, and
all the other persons revolve around that. His mind is fixed and
firm. His mission is one of love, and there is no road so lonely
as the one of unreciprocated love. In a most extraordinary way,
his mother, while not understanding, would have been the only one
to be unselfish and humble enough to be there; to share the pain,
and to cling to the hope that all of what is happening is part of
a plan that is beyond her comprehension. Those with a hidden agenda
could not possibly see beyond their own immediate interests.
Jesus had told the story several times
of the farmer, the king, or the landowner who sent servants to collect
that which was owed. On each occasion, the servants were rejected
and maltreated. One man sent his son, and he was killed. This is
where that story is being fulfilled. It is a case of not liking
the message, so you shoot the messenger. If you listen to the message
you will have to change many things in your life. If you are a self-righteous
Pharisee who is perfect in your own eyes, then, of course, you have
no need to change. Yes, indeed, Jesus hadn't a hope in such surroundings.
And yet it is important to remember that he lived with hope, with
love, and with total faith and trust in the Father. It is interesting
to note that today's gospel ends with the words "When the captain
of the Roman soldiers handling the execution saw what was happening,
he praised God, and said "Surely this man was innocent."
And when the crowd that came to see the crucifixion saw what happened,
they went home in deep sorrow." Innocence will out...
Peter is not the only moral coward in
this story. It is interesting to see the bind in which Pilate found
himself. Herod found nothing wrong, but, because he was a selfish
bully, and Jesus refused to perform for his entertainment, he set
out to make a complete mockery of him.
Pilate, on the other hand, clearly saw
that Jesus was innocent, and was of a mind to let him go. Because
he was such a moral coward, and because of his own self-interest,
he bowed to the demands of others, and made a decision which was
not according to his own conscience. In the words of today's gospel
"the crowd shouted louder and louder for Jesus' death, and
their voices prevailed." Once again, moral courage and integrity
lost out, the bully prevails, and the innocent suffer. This is a
scenario we see repeated again and again in the days in which we
live.
We can condemn the men and women of
violence, but we must admit that they are committed to whatever
they believe in. It is significant that today's gospel tells us
that "Then a mighty roar rose from the crowd, and with one
voice they shouted "Kill him." We are all familiar with
gangsters, drug barons, and dictators meeting a violent death. They
who live by the sword shall die by the sword. These people had a
goal, whether it is power, control, wealth, or whatever, and they
followed that right up to the moment of their death. Why should
Satan have all the best music? Despite the mob violence involved
in today's gospel, there are people whose hearts were touched, and
who were changed for the better in the midst of it all. Peter wept
bitterly, as he repented of his cowardice, and he would eventually
die for Jesus. One of those being crucified with Jesus asked for
help, and was offered heaven right there. The captain of the Roman
soldiers saw what had happened, and he turned to God in prayer;
while those who witnessed the execution went home visibly upset,
and, one can surmise, were profoundly effected for the rest of their
lives.
Above all days in the year, this is
one week when I should take a few moments out to read the gospel
narrative on my own, and to reflect on it. I am suggesting to you
that you should do that, and I leave it to you how and when to do
it. One practical obstacle to be overcome might be to get your hands
on a copy of that gospel. This may not be easy, because the leaflets
here in church may be needed for the next Mass. However, your efforts
to ensure that you get a copy for your personal reading will, in
itself, be a test of your commitment.
One week from today is Easter Sunday.
We celebrate the triumph of Jesus over the final enemy, death. It
is only correct and just that, if I wish to join in the victory,
that I should contribute something to the battle or the struggle.
There is no sharing in Easter without some role in the events of
Good Friday. This is not to say that I have to, or can earn salvation.
Far from it. It does mean, however, that I must be called into a
decision-making situation relative to Jesus. Paul says that it is
Jesus' blood and our faith that combine to produce our salvation.
There is nothing automatic about God. When we speak about Jesus
in the Mass, for example, we use the past tense. Dying you destroyed
our death, rising you restored our life. By your cross and resurrection
you have set us free... In other words, Jesus has completed his
part of the formula of salvation, and the rest is up to me. We are
entering into Holy Week. It is a sacred time, a time of decision,
a time for involvement. Just as at Christmas, this too requires
my yes, my personal decision to be part of the events I commemorate,
celebrate, and reflect on. Please make sure that your participation
throughout this week is active; that it is something that draws
you into the mainstream of salvation. This could range from the
quiet prayer to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, from reflection
on the events to the decision or decisions required to avail fully
of the benefits and blessings resulting from those events.
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