Fourth Sunday

Fourth Sunday Ordinary
January 30, 2005

"But I will leave as a remnant in your midst a people humble and lowly (Zephaniah 3:12-13). ... God chose the lowly and despised of the world,those who count for nothing... (1 Corinthians 1:26-31). Blessed are the poor in spirit... they who mourn... the meek... the peacemakers... (Mt 5:1-12)

It is hard to miss the point this Sunday. In a conversation recently with a close friend, I was reminded that the beatitudes were probably intended by Jesus to be a consolation rather than a prescription for reform. Most of us, at some point in our lives inevitably mourn our losses, long for justice, experience emotional and spiritual emptiness (poverty of spirit), feel as if we must count for absolutely nothing and lack the strength or courage to go on. Jesus' words promise that, especially at these times, we are "blessed", close to and favored by the Most High. This seems to be a spiritual principle: the more we need, the closer God is, even if the immediate need for relief is not satisfied.

I find this extremely comforting in my own situation of dependence upon others for every aspect of my physical survival. I am the personification of "high maintenance". However, along with this dependence have come to wonderful blessing of gratitude for the wealth of family and friends and of God's closeness. Nevertheless, I have to remind myself that I am in a privileged, wealthy minority compared with most people on earth.

Jesus says that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a wealthy person to enter the kingdom of heaven. For most of history we have built many of our ecclesiastical, economic, social and political structures on power, wealth, physical beauty, talent and intelligence. By those standards most of us are outsiders, deserving the promised blessing. We are both wealthy and impoverished; impoverished in our wealth, wealthy in our poverty. When we are or, identify ourselves with, the "lowly and despised" we become blessed, intimate friends of God.

We show flashes of understanding this, in the outpouring of empathy and wealth for the victims of natural disasters and war, concern for the millions dying of AIDS and hunger, victims of terror and aggression everywhere, the poor and the outcast. At other times, when we forget them and become focused only on our little lives, resistant to sharing our wealth with others, we risk losing contact with the kingdom of God present among us. It is unwise, and shortsighted, for citizens of any country, or adherents of any religion, to assume that God and right are always and everywhere on their side, or that their wealth was given to them to protect and defend. The only reliable "side" to be on is the great mass of suffering humanity wherever it is found.

Third Sunday Ordinary

Third Sunday Ordinary
January 23, 2004

"I urge you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree in what you say, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and in the same purpose." (1 Cor 1: 10-17) ' Come after me'... .At once they left their nets and followed him. (Mt 4:12-23)

St. Paul corrects the community he founded at Corinth, who were squabbling over competing doctrines and personalities. He reminds them of their life "in Christ" and the unity of mind and heart it requires. Jesus calls his first disciples and they respond immediately.

Jesus' followers undoubtedly had little idea about how much their lives would change as a result of leaving their comfortable, uneventful existence. They would be thrust upon a stage in which they would be actors in a great cosmic and historical drama for which they had little if any preparation. At the same time they would be have to answer great theological and religious questions while avoiding breaking up into petty factionalism.

Maybe there never has been a golden age except in our minds (even "my" 1950s!). I am reminded of how much things have changed in the church in my own lifetime. I was born into a Catholic subculture in which all the major questions were answered and there was little room for disagreement from established orthodoxy. It was clear how we were supposed to live, what all the sins were as well as the cures and consequences, and who the saints and sinners were. The liturgy was the same everywhere, a solid foundation of spiritual comfort and predictability. Then, in my mid-20s, with my whole life and ecclesiastical career mapped out the church went through a profound change, as it has many times before. The certainties and predictability were gone. We are still trying to sort out what happened and where we go from here.

It is not so hard to understand why we have tended since then to resemble St. Paul's Church at Corinth. We are in a period of re-forming in the best sense of that word: revisiting and reworking many of our cherished beliefs and practices in the light of our apostolic origins. Just as in our personal lives, we go through cycles of calm and stability alternating with times of upheaval and change. If history is any guide, whatever we settle on will reveal new treasures, in exchange for what we lost. The church is for all of us, not just those with whom we agree.

These are times for extraordinary trust, patience, and restraint on our need for certainty and stability, and actually listening to the other side. Attempting to impose a new synthesis before the Holy Spirit has done its work leads us farther from our goal of the coming of the God's kingdom.

Second Sunday Ordinary

Second Sunday Ordinary
January 16, 2005

"I have waited, waited for the LORD, and he stooped toward me and heard my cry. And he put a new song into my mouth, a hymn to our God... Sacrifice or sin offerings you did not desire... then said I, "Behold I come... your law is within my heart." (Psalm 40)

Tradition says that the psalms were written by King David. All of them together represent Israel's historical experience and intimate relationship with God. Our ancestors in the faith, Jewish and Christian, knew them "by heart". David here first waits for inspiration and then is blessed with another song from Israel's heart.
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How often we have experienced "waiting for the Lord". I often think about the state of violence and chaos in our world, the hundreds of thousands devastated by natural disasters, the millions past and present, victims of human aggression and ignorance, people I know who suffer from painful illnesses, addictions, untimely losses, anxiety and depression. I wonder, where is God and how long will we have to wait to be delivered from all this. Aren't we, individually and collectively supposed to be rescued and healed if we just believe and worship more and better, or "pray harder"?

Then I read this beautiful passage from Psalm 40, and am reminded that God has already heard our cries for relief even though it may come from another quarter than we expected,: in the form of a joyful heart. We want deliverance from pain and death, the Most High offers us something more enduring, divine life within us, our lives in God. We are given this regardless of how "hard" or distracted we pray, regardless of how "pure" or imperfect our worship and faith. We discover, as David did, that the divine law is written within our hearts, the law of love and generosity. What we have been waiting for his already here.

I was personally reminded of this just the other day while enjoying the afternoon watching football and golf with a very close friend. He, like many others these days, greet me with an affectionate kiss on my head. I also thought about weekly visits from my son, and reports from him about new inspirations in his songwriting career. I recalled frequent conversations with my younger daughter about her new ideas for dramatic improvisations. I realized how often these people close to me inspire me, and how it puts on a "new song into my heart". I think of all the gentle touches, physical, emotional and spiritual, up close and from a distance, from those I love and who love me. These connections are certainly the Most High responding to our deepest longings to be valued and loved exactly as we are. I wondered again what I had been "waiting for".

Baptism of Jesus

Baptism of Jesus
January 9, 2005

"In truth, I see that God shows no partiality. Rather, in every nation whoever fears him and acts uprightly is acceptable to him". (Acts 10:34-38) John tried to prevent him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?" Jesus said... "Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness." (Matthew 3:13-17)

Peter speaks of what is to be required of followers of Jesus, and while addressing a question specific to his time (the necessity for observance of Jewish ritual laws), seems also to establish a principle of inclusion often overlooked by Christians. How different the history of Christianity, Judaism and Islam might have been had we embraced this "Peter principle". As so often happens, the early pearls of wisdom from our founders get lost in the scramble to organize and exclude everyone but "true believers".

We see how "God shows no partiality" in people around us every day. They give of themselves generously, willingly and enthusiastically, regardless of formal religious beliefs. Indeed it is commonly noted that some of the most loving and generous people are not associated with any religion. God apparently is showing no partiality as far as who is being endowed with these gifts of the Spirit.
Not a bad model for us to emulate.

Jesus is baptized by John in spite of John's objections that it is supposed to be the other way around. If Jesus was indeed the blameless Messiah and Son of Man foretold by the Prophets, why would he need to be baptized as a sign of his repentance? Jesus' remark in this Gospel of Matthew suggests that this is also a fulfillment of the ancient prophecies. Could it also indicate that the divine Messiah was as fully human as any of us, "like us in all things but sin"? The mystery of the Incarnation, God, totally involved in all aspects of creation, seems to require that Emanuel be at once completely other and completely with us, completely divine, completely human. By insisting on his baptism, Jesus was including himself in the human family and bringing us into the family of God.

Jesus was apparently also indicating his willingness to be baptized in the fire of suffering common to all human existence. At the very beginning of his public life, Jesus prepares himself, and us, for the unavoidable consequences of being included among the people of God and the human community. To love and live in the kingdom of God, to be disciples of the Most High, to be happy in the biblical sense, will bring with it loss, pain and abandonment of some kind. We do not have to go looking for it, it will find us. Trying to avoid it often leads to something worse. We might do well this week to reflect on what our "baptism" has been, is or might be and how it can bind us together in the family of God.