33rd Sunday: "It's not the end"

 

When you see these things happening, know that he is near

Mark 13: 24-32

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/111724.cfm

For the early Christians, the book of Daniel, our first reading this Sunday, was extremely important to help them understand the person of Jesus and how he was indeed the fulfilment of the Daniel prophecies in the coming of the kingdom of God. Daniel is part of apocalyptic literature – which means literally, a “revelation” or “pulling back of the veil” which reveals something unknown before. God has revealed himself to us in the person of Jesus and thereby took the veil off his face as he now comes in human flesh and blood.

We hear at this time of the Church year – assurance and hope about the future.  God is in control and will triumph in the end. In fact, in Jesus and the good news of the Gospel, that triumph is already underway. History indicates that the world has seen the rise and the fall of many earthly kingdoms, but the kingdom of God endures. That is certain if we take the Biblical prophecies as truth. Daniel tell us: But the wise shall shine brightly like the splendor of the firmament, and those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever. (Dn 12: 3)

Science has provided another certainty: what concerns the inevitable end of the universe.  It is something we rarely worry about, yet science tells us that approximately five billion years from now the sun will expand and take with it this earth and all the planets. What began with the “bang” of creation will become at the end the “big crunch.” Nothing of this world lasts forever, including us of course. Now at nearly the end of our liturgical year we hear, as in our Gospel, the words of Jesus: . . . the sun will be darkened, the moon will not give its light, the stars will fall from the sky (Mk 13: 24-25), so we can’t help but think in terms of what our scientists tell us is inevitable. Don’t worry much, though, none of us will be here to experience this end billions of years from now.

But in addition, Jesus words of gloom and doom was a response to the disciples amazement at the Temple’s outstanding architecture and beauty: adorned with gold, jewels, tapestry with signs of the planets, stars and the zodiac.  It was indeed a representation of the universe, the most sacred place where God himself dwells in the Holy of Holies among his people. It was the center of all that is Jewish, a place of worship, commerce and social life.  So, Jesus’ description of its destruction was unimaginable to the Jewish years.

Yet, just a few generations after Jesus, in 70 a.d., the Temple was obliterated by the Romans, Jews taken off in captivity, murdered, starved, crucified by the thousands, people desperately ran and scattered everywhere to spare their lives and other such abominations.  It seemed as if the world indeed was destroyed. All of this lies behind the words of Jesus which implies the destruction of an old way in order that a new order of things may take place.  

In the end this week’s readings assure us that in the ultimate end of all things Christ will be recognized as Lord of all history.  We live now in that in between time.  That is, between the two comings of Christ: once in Bethlehem as an infant and the other will be when he returns for the final judgement not as a helpless child but as the mighty King of the Universe in glory.

But today, the age of the Spirit and the age of the Church, the best part of this end time’s imagery is that Christ remains among us now.  It is now that new order brought about through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ for the salvation of all: the old has been destroyed and the new now lives in Christ Jesus. 

Thus, as a people of future hope and reassurance, we are also people of present-day optimism.  The truth revealed to us is that God has claimed creation as his own and in Christ, nature itself responds in a new order to ultimate redemption. In his Church, humanly weak and in need of reform but divinely perfect and in the constant mission of the Church and the Gospel proclaimed we reveal this truth for the world for every generation.

As we enter the mystery of the Eucharist, let’s take heart to know that who we receive, this food for our journey through life and the power of his Word to bring all to himself.  Our Lord will come when he is sent by the Father so may he not find us unprepared and ready to welcome him now and in the future. This is the mission entrusted to us, the responsibility to pass on the faith we have received, to live our lives as faithfully as possible to the Gospel we have seen and heard, and to be found busy about the mission Christ has given to us, until he comes again at the end.

 

32nd Sunday: "Put on the mask of Christ"

 

"She has contributed all she had"

Mk 12:41-44

The Word: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/111024.cfm

Almighty and merciful God,

graciously keep from us all adversity,

so that, unhindered in mind and body alike,

we may pursue in freedom of heart

the things that are yours.

(Collect of Mass)

Christian writer C.S. Lewis begins his essay entitled “Let’s pretend” with a short example about a man who wore a mask.

 He tells of an unattractive man who wore a more attractive mask for many years. He dressed up as another person in a sense.  After a long period of time, he one day took off the mask and noticed that his face had conformed to the shape of the more attractive mask, and he was changed into something he only could hope to become.  Would that it was all that easy!

The beautiful point Lewis makes is that we, as followers of Christ, are called to a new form; a new image and a significant change to be more like Christ himself, the Son of God and the perfect example of a human being made in the image of God.  The beast in us must be tamed and the ugliness of sin replaced by the more beautiful. While the change is not meant to be physical, it is meant to be one of character and holiness in our Christian life.  The best way to do this, Lewis writes, is to imitate Jesus; to pretend to be like him not in an arrogant way, but through humility, love and generosity. In a sense to put on his mask and allow it to become our identity.

We can learn from Christ and through constant imitation, even if it feels like pretending to be something we are not, over time we become what we imitate.  It is somewhat like learning to overcome a bad habit.  The more I replace bad behaviour with good, the more over time I will learn a new way and overcome what has been holding me back.

Sports athletes and musicians for example follow the same principle. They may imagine, or at first pretend to be what they hope to become, and over time and through practice, that goal may indeed be reached. Through God’s grace all things are possible. There is probably no better behavior than to imitate the love and generosity of God.  The ultimate example of this we hear in our second reading today from Hebrews.  Christ came to “take away sin once for all.”  The outpouring of Jesus’ life in his death and resurrection offers us the ultimate example of generosity.  Something we should daily keep before us, imitate and trust that God will change us so that in time we become the person we may only at first hope to become.

The further example of the two widows in the first reading from Kings and the Gospel of Mark, may offer us a real-life example.  The first widow is visited by the prophet Elijah who asks her for food after a long journey.  The problem is, she has nearly nothing and is found gathering bare existence for herself and her son.  Still, the prophet insists, which seems a little insensitive, but he assures her that God will provide if she acts in faith.  Indeed, she does, and she and her son have enough food for a year’s supply. She trusted in the prophet’s word, and she was rewarded for that trust. In a further sense both the prophet and the widow were blessed as both were relieved from hunger.

The second widow is the familiar story of the “widow’s mite.”  By contrast Jesus notes the very wealthy, who probably offered only what was required for the Temple treasury, leaves little to impress Jesus.  Their giving is hardly sacrificial but offered to continue the illusion of generosity and righteousness. They look good in the eyes of others and grasp for positions of honor.

So, the very poor widow with barely an existence pours in the little she has: “Her whole livelihood,” as Jesus states.  Her generosity was marked by a true sacrifice and trust for her faith assured her, like the widow in our first reading, that God would provide for those who trust in him.

So, there is a basic lesson here in generosity; in how and why we give.

On the other hand, rather than commenting on the widow’s sacrifice, was Jesus more cantered on the exploitation of the “gate keepers” of the Temple and their pressure to give, regardless of their state in life. Everyone, even poor widows, have an obligation to give, while the Scribes and others would help themselves to the Temple treasury. The Gospel does have the phrase, “they devour the houses of widows and as a pretext, recite lengthy prayers,” (Mk 12: 39). thereby covering up their larceny. Regardless, these were not honest men as Jesus makes the point.     

The “law of the gift” as stated by Pope St. John Paul II reminds us that this is simply the way God has designed us and, in some way, maybe even nature itself.  The more that is given away, the more returns.  For life to continue, for example, some of life must be given away and that produces more life. In this habit of generosity, even when we feel that we have nothing to give but give nonetheless, over time we become more and more like Christ.

In the case of the widows, and ourselves here, we recognize our call to imitate, to become more like Christ.  To give away ourselves is not foolish.  For in doing so, we receive back so much more.  Whether it’s sharing of time, our treasure, our knowledge, our energy, our support and love towards others we find that it all comes back to us hundredfold.  The two widows acted in faith despite having so little.

As priest and pastor, I have learned over the years that at the time I may not have any idea how my words or actions are affecting a parishioner.  But, when a few years later you run into that person and they share their appreciation, you know that God worked through you.  

Like C.S. Lewis’ example of the man who wore the mask, when we put on the beauty of Christ, the values of the Gospel, we over time become what we first pretend to be and later are.  To imitate the kindness of God by generously offering ourselves not for public recognition but as an act of faith in God’s care for us, we become more attractive to God himself.  God favors the humble and trusting ones.  Those on the margin, the humble and trusting who have no pretence are blessed indeed - the “poor in spirit.”

It’s so fundamental to how we must live as Christians that to not be this way, we might say, is to no longer truly be a credible disciple of the Lord. It’s like following a group.  Some are closer to the front while others lag. Where are you, where am I in that line?

Our celebration of the Eucharist is all about giving thanks and about allowing ourselves to be fed both in Word and Sacrament to become who we hear and feed upon. In our effort to give without counting the cost we can hope to become more and more like the one who came to show us the way.

Put on that mask of Christ.  Follow his word, act in trust, and God will form us to become more like who we imitate, each in the person God created us to be.

 

 

30th Sunday: "I want to see"

"Master I want to see"

 Mark 10: 46 – 52

The Word: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/102724.cfm

Almighty ever-living God,

increase our faith, hope and charity, 

and make us love what you command, so that we may merit what you promise.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,  who lives and reigns with you in the 

unity of the Holy Spirit,  God, for ever and ever. 

(Collect from Sunday Mass)

For those of us who have always been blessed with sight it may be hard to imagine what the experience of total blindness must be like.  Sight is certainly one of those senses, like hearing or smell that we simply take for granted.  But try to imagine never seeing color.  The words of color such as blue, red, green, and yellow mean nothing to a blind person.  You cannot describe what color is like; it would be a futile task. Even a “color blind” person can distinguish shades of differences but to a blind person it would be meaningless.

In the rare instance where surgery can restore sight to the blind, the ability to now see things is not so easy as we might imagine.  The brain has to “compute” vision, distance, depth perception, color, texture, sunlight and moonlight and movement.  It would all be quite disconcerting for a time to the one who can now see things never seen before, and in three dimensions as well. It would take quite a time and likely the person would need some careful assistance to adjust.  It may even seem chaotic and nonsensical for a period as the person is connection sound with vision.  Was Bartimaeus in the Gospel story today, immediately healed and able to see without any further assistance?  It certainly seems that way.

 But the writers of scripture, John in particular, use blindness, darkness and light to symbolize ignorance, lack of faith, knowledge and understanding.  And in the journey which Jesus had undertaken in the story today, our Lord’s reference is to the disciples, and their “blindness,” or lack of faith and understanding.

In this Sunday’s Gospel of Mark we hear of a blind man.  Unlike many of the miracle stories of Jesus, this man is named: Bartimaeus.  Perhaps he was known in the early Christian community as an active early member. In the story, his continued shouting at Jesus as “Son of David, have pity on me” as an indicator that he correctly identified Jesus as Messiah. Yet, the crowds tried to dismiss and silence him as simply an annoying beggar.

Yet, Bartimaeus gave a determined shout, hoping that Jesus would take notice of him as he addressed him with a messianic title.  He believed Jesus could and likely would have pity and bring him sight for the first time. He did have faith so he could already “see” who Jesus is.

However, there is a more personal desire the man had at this time.  He is brought to Jesus as our Lord acknowledges his pleading voice and he requests: “Master, I want to see.”  Notice, he threw off his cloak, a symbol of the rejection of his old ways and now ready to embrace something new. Physical sight of course is what he is asking for but Jesus offers him far more.

Jesus restores his sight, recognizing the man’s faith but then this man now follows Jesus “on the way.”  Was his newly found sight a moment for chaos, confusion, disorientation having never seen before? It seems Jesus took care of that or at least Mark wanted to make a more fundamental point: the man now took the position of a disciple; a student a follower of Jesus on “the way.” It is a compelling story of conversion and brings into question our own blindness; what we may not see on our walk with the Lord.

I think there is no doubt that one of the saddest things we notice these days is a severe lack of faith and indifference to the holy and sacred.  We saw it displayed at the Opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics; we hear of it in song, we see it in political adds, and certain candidates who place politics above religion, those who tout immorality as the right choice, etec. 

The first reading from Jeremiah speaks of a time of joy and deliverance as God will restore all brokenness and return from exile to wholeness.  It is a reference to the return of the Jews from exile in Babylon but also can be for us a reminder that God will not abandon us but in time will make all things right.  That making right includes our understanding of who Jesus is for humanity: the suffering servant who died and rose for salvation.

This Gospel of the blind Bartimaeus who tags Jesus with a messianic title yet does not know him fully can be seen as reflecting that of Peter who referred to Jesus in the same vein: “You are the Christ!” Or even the other apostles who didn’t quite get the point of Jesus suffering and death yet our Lord, as they continued their journey with him “along the way” patiently opened the eyes of their hearts to understand the fullness of his mission.

I think it’s significant that Jesus asks the same question of Bartimaeus that he asked of James and John in last Sunday’s Gospel: “What do you want me to do for you?”  The brothers were seeking their own advancement, but the blind man was only seeking to see, and Christ gave him far more than physical sight.

As we also encounter the risen Christ, we are like Bartimaeus who is a symbol of us all.  We come to the Lord and ask for understanding, vision, and faith in him.

Our lives can be so packed with activity and with other more immediate priorities that our spiritual life takes a back position.  We pursue so many things that falsely tell us of security, comfort, joy, meaning and purpose that we lose sight of Jesus as the center of our faith.  He seeks a relationship with us and so our Christian faith lends itself to relationship, to conversion, and faith.  But do we see that, and have we arranged our lives accordingly? Do I live by Gospel values always measuring my decisions by the light of faith or do I live in darkness leaping after things that are limited and ultimately unfulfilling?

As in all the stories of healing, whoever the person may be, the Gospel writers challenge us to see ourselves in them.  We are Bartimaeus and we are in need of clear sight to see the things of God and to follow Jesus on the way.

 

 

29th Sunday: Servant Leadership

 

("The charge to Peter" James Tissot)

"Whoever wishes to be great . .  will be your servant"

Mark 10: 35 - 45

The Word: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/102024.cfm

Here’s a little Catholic trivia that may come in handy, you never know when. The familiar gesture of the genuflection, traditional before the Blessed Sacrament in our Churches, has been recorded since at least the fourth century and began from a non-Christian source in the court of royalty.

Alexander the Great imposed this requirement of court etiquette on anyone who would enter before the emperor.  They would go down on one knee and usually remain there until told to stand.  It was not only a sign of respect before a higher authority but also a sign of submission on the part of the one engaged in that posture. You were not to look directly at the Emperor but were expected to look down or to indirectly face him.

Since the later Middle Ages this same act of respect and submission has become a part of our Catholic tradition.  We by custom show the same sign of respect as we enter Church before the presence of Christ in the tabernacle, normally as we enter our pew.  My Father, to his own embarrassment and that of the family, once genuflected as he entered the line of seats in a movie theater! Momentary distraction.

The similar gesture of a bow to Christ is essentially the same meaning if you find it easier to allow gravity to take over only to resist when trying to stand. By this silent gesture we are called to submit ourselves to Christ, the higher divine creator and Lord, not in fear but in humble service for others after his example and in his name.

The point of this gesture is a simple illustration of our Gospel this Sunday.  We hear of servant leadership as the mark of a true Christian after the example of Jesus himself.

While all this is a familiar theme for us tied directly to it is that of suffering.  That’s a link we would rather whisper than proclaim loudly.  Jesus speaks openly and certainly not for the first time, of his approaching passion and death.  The sacrifice of Christ on the cross was the link to the deeper meaning of Christian service.  Yet, it is clear that the disciples did not comprehend the connection completely for them personally but rather remain tied to a more earthly understanding of authority and power.  I would certainly rather be the Emperor than the servant.  I would much rather see someone bow before me than bow before them. The pursuit of honor and authority is always a temptation.

So, two brother disciples, James and John, come before Jesus, after he has spoken clearly of his impending physical suffering on the cross, with a bold request. One could certainly understand the reaction of the other ten who were outraged at their presumption: “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and one at your left.” So they ask for two positions of authority to rule with Jesus in his “kingdom.”  Brazen?  Bold? It would seem so.  Misguided and misunderstood?  Possibly.  Selfish and dismissive of others?  Could be. But their desire for two important places of honor is not that unusual considering the culture of the time. Honor was everything in this ancient culture. They seek to be quasi prime ministers in the court of King Jesus.

What does Jesus do with them?  He certainly does not react with anger or a put down as to their misunderstanding of his mission.  Rather, he uses this moment as an opportunity to teach them and the others the deeper meaning of his mission and how they too will share in that, in particular the meaning of sacrifice and suffering for a higher good.  But even more, what it truly means to follow his example of leadership and authority and live as Christian disciples.

 In light of James and John’s apparent ambition, our Lord explains: “Whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man (Messiah) did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” We can only imagine the changed expression on the face of the two misguided disciples and the reaction of the twelve.

In ancient culture, with its clear divisions between the powerful and the poor; influential and lowly; Jew and gentile; men and women; leaders and servants and slaves these words of Jesus must have had an initial dousing affect.  Like water thrown on the fires of ambition his words of submission and slavery could not have been more unexpected.

These twelve have made great sacrifices to follow him know he says they must put aside hopes of reward and submit, genuflect as it were, to the lowest. He illustrated this at the last supper as he washed their feet in the action of a slave and further expanded its meaning ultimately on the cross and in the sharing of the Eucharist. God went below the lowest to raise us up with him.

The first reading from Isaiah the prophet uses words like: “crush,” “afflicted,” “suffering” to describe this servant of God.  We hear this reading on Good Friday so the Christian community has seen in it a fore shadow of Jesus’ own suffering in this great prophet of Israel.  But it is not suffering without merit for it has a quality of expiation – of salvation and freedom given to it; a freedom for us and not for the personal benefit of the one who suffers. This act of pouring out can only be explained by one great word – Love. In the end God loves us not because of what we have done but because of who he is and who he has created us to be.

Today’s world of rampant individualism; of seeking what is best for me and my own advancement and position and this age of subjective morality which acknowledges no absolute truth for the common good of all and sees power and influence as a sign of authority needs to hear this lesson. This Christian alternative way of viewing life and its purpose is essential.  While there is nothing wrong with a desire to advance in one’s career and to seek respect from others to do so as a measure of earthly success is to miss the mark.

For a Christian to add the deeper counter cultural dimension of servant leadership by example is essential.  We have academic and professional degrees.  We’ve worked hard and achieved a certain level of responsibility but the danger of that is to think that all depends on us alone.  

You may not need to look very far:  your marriage and family, your place of work, your neighbors and friends; your parish community and wherever we may see an opportunity to serve and not be served in the name of Jesus. My life as priest and pastor must have no less examination. We all share in the same call to servant leadership. Our Catholic faith is not a private or personal devotion but a call to live as Christ Jesus and after his example for others. We then become like the food we consume at the Eucharist.