Tuesday, August 31, 2004

23rd Sunday

23rd Sunday Ordinary
September 5, 2004

"And scarce do we guess the things on earth, and what is within our grasp we find with difficulty... Or who ever knew your counsel, except you had given wisdom and sent your holy spirit from on high?" (Wisdom 9: 13-18) "If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14: 25-33)
Wisdom is reflecting on the limits of our ability to understand the meaning of life except as it may be revealed to those who live in the spirit of the Most High. Jesus is addressing the crowd, instructing them on the cost of discipleship, using analogies to make his point that it is not simple or easy and that we all have to calculate the price of discipleship.
I am struck, by the apparent contradiction between Jesus' saying about "hating" parents, children and spouse as a condition of being a disciple -- a very uncompromising attitude, followed directly by another saying which suggests a great deal of compromise. A prudent army general, faced with overwhelming odds against victory, would be wise to sue for peace rather than lose the battle. This is a good example of the futility of a literal interpretation of the Bible. What would family values and the commandment to honor one's parents look like if we took this one statement literally, isolated from its context? Adults learn to accept ambiguity as part of their religious and spiritual search. No single rule, belief or perspective (except maybe the "law" of love) is sufficient for the complexities of real life. There is a time and place for radical separation from all we know and love, and a time for practical compromise and strategic retreat.
For a while after learning five years ago that we (my family and friends and I) had ALS, we spent considerable time wondering about the meaning of this, and "why" it happened to us in particular. We had many people offer their own answers to our questions. Usually some version of: "God has something in store for you." In fact, there is no real answer to this question. Life has presented us with the opportunity of accepting a radically new way of living. The only "answer" is the practical one: how do we adapt to these new rules of life. Like the army commander in today's gospel, I have had to abandon old rules of life, especially the one about trying hard, being first and always winning as the solution to every problem. Instead, we survey the scene, calculate the odds, concede the inevitable, and move on to better things. A radical departure from former ways of life, and a compromise with reality.
Recovering addicts remind each other frequently about the need to distinguish between things they can change and things they need to accept. All that ultimately matters is living in the Holy Spirit's love and gratitude. This may also turn out to be the most practical and radical mode of living. Jesus' apparently contradictory statements are both true.
Loris Buccola

Friday, August 27, 2004

22nd Sunday

22nd Sunday Ordinary
July 29, 2004

"No, you have approached Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering, and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and God the judge of all, and the spirits of the just made perfect" (Hebrews 12:18-24) "Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." (Luke 14: 1, 7-14)
The reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, with its symbolism of the "heavenly Jerusalem" and "angels in festal gathering) reminds us of the many metaphors for heaven found in the Bible and sacred writings of other religions. We may sometimes take these more literally than they were intended, perhaps because our human minds simply are incapable of conceptualizing the reality which awaits us, or because we cling to comforting or threatening childhood images of heaven. In these images heaven was a perfected extension of this life. These images express an aspect of the truth, but not all of it.
The familiar gospel story in which Jesus instructs guests invited to a banquet about the realities of the kingdom of heaven addresses this issue. He says here, and repeatedly in other places, that the kingdom of heaven is both right here in front of us as well as a distant promise. The banquet is the kingdom of heaven where human concepts of the proper order of things are completely reversed. In this kingdom, all that we customarily value (wealth, power, security, respect) is worthless and all that we deem worthless (poverty, powerlessness, insecurity, obscurity) is of the highest value. When we strive to conform our lives to Jesus' unlikely view of the kingdom of heaven, we do not have to "wait" for the kingdom. We are already there, there is no waiting. And it probably is not streets paved with gold (the gold acquired by human misery and destruction of the earth), or cute little angels flying about singing hymns. At least this is not the kingdom of heaven described by Jesus, who so often "demystifies" the issue.
This may also be true of the fear we have of the "last judgment", as if it will turn out to be some kind of surprise ending. We are being judged every day based on our willingness and ability to allow the kingdom to be reborn in our lives (the "firstborn" in the letter to the Hebrews). I imagine my own "last judgment" to be a completion and perfection of myself, devoid of the inevitable self-delusions of my present life.
The city of God is a project under construction. We can be associated with vandals undoing the work at night, or workers building during the day. Most of us have spent some time doing both. The table for the banquet of the kingdom is laid out for us right now. We are both guests and hosts. Who will we choose to sit with; who will we invite?
Loris Buccola

Thursday, August 19, 2004

21st Sunday

21st Sunday Ordinary
August 21, 2004

"... I come to gather nations of every language; they shall come and see my glory.... They shall bring all your brothers and sisters from all the nations as an offering to the LORD.". (Isaiah 66:18-21) "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.... And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God." (Luke 13:22-30)
The prophet announces that the God of Israel is the Lord of all nations and peoples, and that God's desire is for unity around acknowledgment and worship of the one God. Jesus answers the question of his disciples about how many people will enter the kingdom of heaven. Paradoxically, those who are sure they will be among them, such as his closest followers, may well be excluded because of their pride and exclusiveness.
This is Jesus' paradox: The kingdom of heaven is difficult to attain, open and available to all. Like the disciples, most of us want to be assured that we are among the elect. The narrow way into the kingdom is gained by an expansive and open attitude of mind and heart which is difficult to acquire, i.e. only for the "strong". Except for the outsiders who do not have the energy or opportunity to exclude others. It is very difficult for us insiders in the faith to imagine that the outsiders may have a greater claim to the kingdom than we do.
I have always regarded myself as an "insider". I have always required of myself that I be the most in-the-know, the smartest, the strongest. When I was able-bodied I had to be the cyclist at the head of the pack, the fittest guy in the gym. Although I do not believe that God did this to me to teach me a lesson, (surely he could figure out an easier way to get my attention) there is a certain symmetry in the contrast between my former state and my present condition. The insider has become the outsider. The unforeseen circumstances of life offer us opportunities to reassess our theories about ourselves, the rightness of our causes and to confront our fears about loss, death and how we appear to others.
The disciples' question about how many people will be included in the kingdom of heaven may imply an anticipated answer: "Just us and the people who act, think and believe like us." Perhaps this anticipation is motivated by a fear of exclusion? Jesus' answer is not very satisfying to them. God may, or may not, manipulate the circumstances which provide the opportunity to reassess our theories about ourselves. But the Holy Spirit is always there when we are ready to do so. The way is narrow and difficult for faithful disciples. As Jesus says, we don't have forever to figure it out.
Loris Buccola

21st Sunday

21st Sunday Ordinary
August 21, 2004

"... I come to gather nations of every language; they shall come and see my glory.... They shall bring all your brothers and sisters from all the nations as an offering to the LORD.". (Isaiah 66:18-21) "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.... And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God." (Luke 13:22-30)
The prophet announces that the God of Israel is the Lord of all nations and peoples, and that God's desire is for unity around acknowledgment and worship of the one God. Jesus answers the question of his disciples about how many people will enter the kingdom of heaven. Paradoxically, those who are sure they will be among them, such as his closest followers, may well be excluded because of their pride and exclusiveness.
This is Jesus' paradox: The kingdom of heaven is difficult to attain, open and available to all. Like the disciples, most of us want to be assured that we are among the elect. The narrow way into the kingdom is gained by an expansive and open attitude of mind and heart which is difficult to acquire, i.e. only for the "strong". Except for the outsiders who do not have the energy or opportunity to exclude others. It is very difficult for us insiders in the faith to imagine that the outsiders may have a greater claim to the kingdom than we do.
I have always regarded myself as an "insider". I have always required of myself that I be the most in-the-know, the smartest, the strongest. When I was able-bodied I had to be the cyclist at the head of the pack, the fittest guy in the gym. Although I do not believe that God did this to me to teach me a lesson, (surely he could figure out an easier way to get my attention) there is a certain symmetry in the contrast between my former state and my present condition. The insider has become the outsider. The unforeseen circumstances of life offer us opportunities to reassess our theories about ourselves, the rightness of our causes and to confront our fears about loss, death and how we appear to others.
The disciples' question about how many people will be included in the kingdom of heaven may imply an anticipated answer: "Just us and the people who act, think and believe like us." Perhaps this anticipation is motivated by a fear of exclusion? Jesus' answer is not very satisfying to them. God may, or may not, manipulate the circumstances which provide the opportunity to reassess our theories about ourselves. But the Holy Spirit is always there when we are ready to do so. The way is narrow and difficult for faithful disciples. As Jesus says, we don't have forever to figure it out.
Loris Buccola

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Assumption of Mary

Assumption of Mary
August 15, 2004

"A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. (Rev 11) "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord... for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant... He has scattered the proud in their conceit. .He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty." (Luke 1:39-56)
St. John's vision of the great struggles of the Apocalypse includes Mary triumphant in heaven victorious over the forces of evil. It is the source of many artistic renderings of Mary over the centuries.
St. Luke's portrayal is much different. This is the story of Mary meeting Elizabeth and Elizabeth's greeting recognizing her cousin's central role in the history of salvation which we pray daily as the "Hail Mary". The "Magnificat" is her hymn of acceptance sung in the daily prayer of the church at Vespers. Here Mary is a humble person of obscure origins directing our attention away from herself and toward the Most High, emphasizing once again the great reversal of fortunes in the kingdom of heaven. The rich, proud and powerful will be brought low, the poor, humble and powerless will be raised to the highest rank and filled with everything good.
The image of Mary triumphant in her humility exerts a powerful spiritual attraction. We would like to be able to go straight for the triumph part of the experience and bypass the humility part. What does it mean to embrace humility? It is simply a recognition and acceptance of the truth about ourselves. We possess the means for our undoing as well as the means for our spiritual perfection. Most of us tend to be led in one of two directions, over emphasizing either our power or our insignificance. Humility takes us in both directions at once.
I was reminded recently about this, during a visit from my four-year-old granddaughter (with her beautiful mother). She and I have developed a most wonderful and intimate relationship, almost entirely initiated by her on her own terms. As we converse and play our nursery rhyme word games I am drawn into the extraordinary richness and power of her small world, and the powerlessness of my own. Most of us parents recall the spiritual impact of our infant children upon us. How can someone so apparently small and powerless exert such power in our lives? These surely are experiences here and now of much more to come in the kingdom of heaven.
This celebration of Mary reminds us that her destiny is waiting for every one of us, especially the most powerless, needy and insignificant. We are all in our own ways chosen to be bearers of God when we follow her example and embrace our poverty and emptiness as well as our richness and power.

Monday, August 02, 2004

19th Sunday

19th Sunday Ordinary
August 8, 2004

" Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen... Abraham sojourned in the promised land as in a foreign country, and dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob... for he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and maker is God." (Hebrews 11) ...Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be." (Luke 12:32-48)
I remember learning in the third grade the answer to the question in the Baltimore Catechism, "What are the three theological virtues?...The three theological virtues are faith, hope and charity". The letter to the Hebrews describes perfectly the nature of faith. "Faith" in the biblical sense is an inner confidence that God's promise, and our hopes based on it, will come true. Belief in creeds and doctrines only makes sense in this context. Without faith, hope and love, "beliefs" have no heart, soul or purpose.
When we live in this faith, we already live in the "city with foundations", in eternity. "Heaven" becomes something much more tangible and real, especially when we add the ingredient of love for each other. Living in faith, hope and love is to already be in the "promised land" of heaven. In this sense our patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob waited for something greater and more permanent even in the promised land. Outside of a life lived within the "three theological virtues", there are no sacred places. Within it, every place and every relationship is sacred.
How much conflict and human misery over the centuries, up until the present moment, over who gets access to the "sacred places" could have been avoided if we had paid better attention to this truth. Our intense controversies about the correctness of our doctrines, which places are sacred, the rightness of our causes, etc. take us farther away from the "city with foundations". They are seductive because they lead us to think that we are being religious and spiritual, "defending the faith". Faith does not have to be "defended". It speaks for itself because it simply is.
The gospel of Luke continues to recount Jesus' teachings about the relationship between earthly and spiritual wealth. We know our treasure by what we want most. As we noted last week, Jesus does not suggest here that there is an opposition between the two. We create the opposition in our own minds, then label it as "reality". As I basked in the loving care of so many family members and friends these past several weeks I was made aware in a very concrete and tangible way that eternity is the reality, this life of time and space is the illusion. I am already in heaven. Divine reality shifts our attention to the only thing which endures and connects us already with the life of heaven -- the quality and integrity of our relationships with each other and God. We only have what we share. This week we have an opportunity to meditate on what kind of city we are building, and where our treasure is being stored.
Loris Buccola