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Commentary on John 6:22-29

Following on the feeding of the 5,000 and the walking on the water, we begin the long discourse of Jesus as the Bread of Life. This ‘Bread’ is presented as a replacement of the manna with which God fed his people during their long trek through the desert in the Old Testament. What we read today is really an introduction. The proper discourse will begin tomorrow. The last part of the discourse is about the mixed reaction of Jesus’ disciples and about Peter’s profession.

The day following the feeding, the people go in search of Jesus. First, they realise he did not cross the lake with his disciples, but when they go to the site of the feeding, they find he is not there either. Eventually they find Jesus and his disciples in the vicinity of Capernaum, Jesus’ principal base in Galilee.

They ask him:

Rabbi, when did you come here?

In typically Johannine fashion, the question is loaded with deeper meanings, of which those asking it are quite unaware. Jesus’ origin (where he comes from) is a constant source of misunderstanding both on the part of the crowds and of the Jewish leadership.

Jesus begins by telling the crowds that they are coming in search of him not because of the ‘signs’ that he is doing, but because of the bread that they had been given to eat. They have missed the point of what Jesus was doing. They have seen the things that Jesus has been doing, but have missed the ‘sign’, the deeper meaning behind them. The food they are looking for is not the food that counts. The real food brings a life that never ends, and that is the food that Jesus is offering. It parallels the “spring of water gushing up to eternal life” which Jesus promised the Samaritan woman (John 4:14).

The source of this ‘bread’ is the Son on whom the Father has set his seal. This ‘seal’ was given at his baptism. It is the Spirit of the Father, who is the power of God working in and through Jesus. The people ask him:

What must we do to perform the works of God?”

Jesus tells them:

This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.

For ‘work’ in the Jewish sense, external fulfilment of the Law’s requirements, Jesus substitutes faith in himself as the delegate of the Father. And Jesus asks us not just to ‘believe’, but to ‘believe in’. It is not just a question of accepting certain statements about Jesus and who he really is. ‘Believing in’ involves a total and unconditional commitment of the whole self to Jesus, to the gospel and the vision of life that he proposes, and making it part of one’s own self. This is where the real bread is to be found.

And we may add that Jesus is not just speaking of the Eucharistic bread, but the deep-down nourishment of which the Eucharist is the sign and sacrament—nourishment which also comes from the Word of God in Scripture and the whole Christian community experience. It is important in reading this whole chapter that we do not limit the truth of Jesus as the Bread or Food of our life simply to the Eucharist, which is the sacramental sign of something much larger—all that we receive through Christ and the whole Christian way of life.

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Commentary on Acts 6:8-15

Today we begin the story of Stephen, who will be the first person to give his life for Christ. He is the first martyr, the first true witness to the gospel. Because of this, his feast is celebrated on the day after Christmas. Today’s reading follows the passage on the appointment of the ‘deacons’, of whom Stephen was one, and also following the conversion of some of the Temple’s priests.

We are told at the beginning that:

Stephen, full of grace and power, did great wonders and signs among the people.

Until now, we only heard of the Apostles, especially Peter and John, working miracles. Now, after the laying on of hands, Stephen is given the same gifts and the same power. Soon, we will see the deacon Philip doing the same.

However, Stephen’s words and actions aroused the displeasure of other Greek-speaking Jews. We are told that there were people from the Synagogue of Freedmen, who were probably descendants of Jews who had been carried off to Rome by Pompey when he attacked Jerusalem in 63 BC. They would have been sold into slavery, but later released—hence their name. The Cyrenians came from Cyrene, which was the chief city in Libya and North Africa, half way between Alexandria and Carthage. It had a Jewish community (we remember too that it was a Simon from Cyrene who was forced to help Jesus carry his cross; see Matt 27:32). Alexandrians came from the city of Alexandria (named after the famous Macedonian emperor). It was the capital of Egypt and the second city of the Roman Empire. It also had a Jewish community.

Cilicia was a Roman province in the southeast corner of Asia Minor, close to Syria. Tarsus, the birthplace of Paul, was one of its principal towns. Asia, at that time, referred to just a single Roman province in what is now western Turkey. Its capital was Ephesus, which would feature prominently in Paul’s ministry.

These ‘Freedmen’ began debating with Stephen. It is an interesting theory that, since Paul was from Tarsus in Cilicia, he might have attended this synagogue and have been among those who were arguing with Stephen. He certainly was prominent in the stoning of Stephen.

The parallels between Stephen’s experience and that of his Lord are striking. Like Jesus, and because of Jesus, he is “full of grace and power” and he “did great wonders and signs among the people”. He arouses the displeasure especially of his fellow Hellenist Jews who cannot deal with the Spirit-inspired power of his words.

As they could not better Stephen in debate, they began circulating distorted versions of what he was saying. They accused him of saying that the worship of God was no longer to be restricted to the Temple. The charges, that Stephen depreciated the importance of the Temple and the Mosaic Law and elevated Jesus to a stature above Moses, were in fact true. And, as far as the Sanhedrin was concerned, no defence against them was possible. But the false witnesses that some Hellenists were bringing forward were actually distorting what Stephen was saying.

So they begin to throw false accusations against him, leading to his incurring the hostility both of the people and the Jewish religious leaders. In the presence of the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Jews, they distort his words by asserting that Stephen claimed Jesus was going to destroy the Temple and change the traditions of Moses.

As already mentioned, in a sense, it was true. The coming of Jesus made the Temple irrelevant, and the teaching of Jesus would not abolish, but rather would transcend and go far beyond the traditions of Moses.

All of this is very similar to the experience that Jesus went through. All through these encounters, Stephen’s enemies glared at him with hostility, while his own face seemed “like the face of an angel”. The face of an angel produces a feeling of awe. There are echoes here of the face of Moses as he came down from the mountain after being face to face with God, and of the appearance of Jesus at the Transfiguration. The Sanhedrin members are also witnessing a transfiguration, as Stephen has a vision of Jesus in glory (this will occur in tomorrow’s reading). And, whatever their feelings towards him, Stephen had no hostile feelings towards them. This is the spirit of Jesus: “Love your enemies.”

With Stephen, who thus perceived the fuller implications of the teachings of Jesus, the difference between Judaism and Christianity began to appear. Luke’s account of Stephen’s martyrdom and its aftermath shows how the major impetus behind the Christian movement passed from Jerusalem, where the Temple and law prevailed, to Antioch in Syria, where these influences were less pressing.

As Christians, we too can expect, and should not be surprised to experience, hostility and misunderstandings even from our fellow-Christians at times. We too are called to return love for hatred and peace for anger. This attitude is a real stumbling block to some and utter nonsense to others.

The rest of Stephen’s story, his martyrdom, is told in the subsequent verses of Acts.

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Commentary on Philippians 2:1-4

In today’s reading, Paul makes an eloquent appeal for unity among the Christians of Philippi. As he writes from prison, the encouragement and comfort he wishes most from them is that they:

…be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.

As will become clear in later readings, the Philippians, like many of the churches to which Paul wrote, had their own internal problems which were a source of sometimes deep division.

He proposes four motivating forces which might help them to resolve their differences:

1. Their life in Christ: the over-riding element in all Christian living is our warm, intimate, personal relationship with Christ. If this is really the guiding factor in our living together, there will not be much room for serious divisions.
2. Love (agape): for Christians, love is, of course, the very central force in all our behaviour with each other. It is, first of all, the love that God has shown us in Christ, especially by his suffering and dying for us on the cross. Secondly, it is the law which embraces all other laws. It is the criterion by which we judge all words and actions. And where there is genuine love between brothers and sisters in the community, there cannot be any serious divisions.
3. The Spirit we have in common: that Spirit is God communicating to us the Gospel message we have received from Christ, and uniting us together in a true fellowship. If we are all filled with that same Spirit, then we are going to speak and act in real harmony with each other, driven as we are by a common vision.
4. Tenderness and sympathy: this expresses the deep care and concern that we have for each other. It is this encouragement, comfort, fellowship, tenderness and compassion which will dissipate any disunity and discord in the community.

If their community life can be guided by these qualities, then, says Paul, they can:

… be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.

This is not so much a plea for total uniformity, but rather the ability to work together towards a common goal in a spirit of tolerance and acceptance of each other.

Paul in general is very pleased with the church at Philippi, but if it could realise the unity he is urging on them, that would make him completely happy. The implication is that complete unity has not yet been achieved; that there are some divisions among them.

As a step towards that unity he gives some advice. They should be free of a competitive spirit, where different groups claim to have the truth, and self-centred conceit (‘all out of step except me’). Such ambition or self-centredness is destructive of real unity in the community. And alas, such competitiveness and conceit is not at all unknown in our own churches today.

On the contrary, the Philippians are to:

Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit…

That is, they are to be free from arrogance and self-centredness and focused more on the needs of their brothers and sisters.

They are to:

…in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others.

That does not mean denying one’s gifts and talents, but it does mean that the love that each one has for others leads them to giving preference to the needs of others. They are to have the attitude that my gifts are not to be focused on myself, but rather are to be used for the benefit of others—just as others will use their gifts for my benefit. In this way, we all gain by reaching out to each other.

All of what Paul says can be applied to our Church living today. We, too, need to be more united, more tolerant and more accepting. We, too, need to be filled with those four elements which will make any real disunity and division—as opposed to acceptable diversity and pluralism—impossible among us.

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Commentary on Luke 14:12-14

After giving the scribes and Pharisees advice on how (not) to choose a place at a banquet, Jesus goes on to teach his host what to do when he holds a dinner. He should not invite family members, relatives, friends and the influential rich from whom he can expect to get similar invitations in return.

Rather he should go out of his way to:

…invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind…you will be blessed because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.

This will be a proof of the genuineness of his generosity. Sharing meals with friends is a lovely thing, but Jesus is making the point that our mutual entertainment should not be at the expense of those who do not have enough to eat. It will be a real act of love, and not be a form of self-seeking and self-aggrandisement or mutual back scratching in a never-ending entertainment circus.

It reminds us of what Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount about loving those who love us:

Do not even the gentiles do the same? (Matt 5:47)

There is no real virtue in this. In fact, it can be a way of using people to our own advantage. It also reminds us of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. In such circumstances, uncaring self-indulgence can in no way be justified.

We might remark here, of course, that there is no such thing as pure altruism, that is, an action that is done purely for others with absolutely nothing for self. Everything we do, we do ultimately for ourselves. We have no choice but to seek our own good—to act otherwise would be quite silly and even wrong. It all depends on how and why we do it.

A person can seek self by using, manipulating, and exploiting others for one’s own gain. But a person can use all their energies for the good of others, and in doing so, there is a feeling of satisfaction in doing the right thing. Even one’s life can be sacrificed as the only way of satisfying self. For instance, a mother may not hesitate to sacrifice her life to save a child in danger. Not to do so would lead to a situation she might find difficult to live with for the rest of her life.

We do have to seek our own interests. We can do that at the expense of others, or we can realise that it is by sharing what we have with others in need that we become enriched in a very special way.

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Commentary on Philippians 2:12-18

Today’s reading follows immediately on yesterday’s hymn about the “mind of Christ”, depicted in his ‘self-emptying’ as his way to glory. Paul now exhorts the Philippians to follow the teaching he has given them, which is none other than the teaching of Jesus and the Gospel. They did follow his teaching when he was with them (during visits on his second and third missionary journeys) and he hopes that they will continue to do so now that they are separated from each other.

He tells them to:

…work on your own salvation with fear and trembling…

Working on their salvation means leaving themselves continually open to the loving influence of God in their lives. Salvation is not something that one achieves by one’s own efforts; it comes from accepting the love of God into one’s life and behaving accordingly. As Paul says today:

…it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

Every good thing we say and do, we say and do in him and through him—and for him.

The phrase “in fear and trembling” is a biblical cliche‚ used several times by Paul and is not intended in a frightening sense. Rather it calls for that sense of awe and reverence which comes when we begin to grasp the transcendence and unknowability of our God.

Paul now indicates some of the areas where we ensure that we experience the saving power of God and have the mind of Christ. All that has to be done should be carried out without complaining or arguing. One senses that, in fact, there was a certain amount of complaining and arguing going on among the Philippians. Such complaining could indicate discontent with their lot, resulting in grumbling against God. The arguing could be over issues in the church, which resulted in division and disunity.

Paul wants the Philippians to be:

…blameless and innocent, children of God in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation.

He wants them to give a convincing witness of the Gospel vision in the unbelieving and immoral world which surrounds them.

In the surrounding darkness of sin and immorality, they will then shine out like stars. This reflects the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount when he told his disciples to be:

…the light of the world. A city built on a hill…[letting] your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works… (Matt 5:13-16)

An invisible Christian is a contradiction in terms; and an immoral Christian is a wound on the Gospel.

But if the Philippians are able to act as Paul urges, it will give him great pride on the day of judgment, for it would mean that all his efforts among them had not been in vain:

…so that I can boast on the day of Christ that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.

And he goes so far as to say that even if his present imprisonment ends in shedding his blood through a martyr’s death, it would still be an occasion for great joy and thanksgiving both for him and for them:

But even if I am being poured out as a libation over the sacrifice and the service of your faith, I rejoice, and I rejoice together with all of you…

This is another example of the mood of joy which pervades the Letter.

Libations, or the pouring out of blood, were common in both Greek and Jewish sacrifices. Paul uses this image to express his share in the overall offering that the Philippians have made and are making through the living out of their Christian faith. He may be referring to his whole ministry as one large thanksgiving sacrifice, or it is more likely he is speaking of his present imprisonment, which might well bring him a martyr’s death. His life would then be poured out as a drink offering accompanying the sacrificial service of the Philippians.

Again we see Paul’s total and unconditional giving of himself to Jesus and the work of proclaiming the Gospel. In this, his own life is secondary. The only thing that matters in life or death is being close to Jesus, his beloved Lord. And if Paul loses his life, it will not only be a source of joy for Paul himself, but something over which the Philippians too should rejoice, because it is another victory of the Gospel over sin and evil.

Let us reflect today on the quality of our witness to the Gospel, both individually and collectively. What image do we have individually and collectively in our society? It is not a question of being loved and admired. When we are being most Christian may be a time when we will be most violently attacked. But never let it be said that we are clearly unfaithful to the vision of the Gospel we claim to follow.

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Commentary on Luke 14:25-33

Luke’s Gospel is noteworthy for its extremes. On the one hand, it shows the radical and uncompromising demands that Jesus makes on those who would be his followers and, at the same time, emphasises as none of the other Gospels do, the gentleness and compassion of Jesus for the sinful and the weak. Both pictures have always to be kept simultaneously in view and they are in no way contradictory. Today and tomorrow we will see both of these images of Jesus back to back.

In today’s passage we see Jesus, as was often the case, surrounded by a huge crowd of people. They are full of enthusiasm and expectation, but Jesus very quickly pulls them up short. He says:

Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.

This is a very shocking demand, especially for a society where people’s whole lives were centred on their families.  Luke is alone in asking that even the wife, too, be abandoned, but this is just an example of the totality of our commitment to following Jesus.

However, we have to make two qualifications.  First, the word ‘hate’ is a Semitic expression not to be taken literally.  It could not be so taken, as the whole of Jesus’ teaching is based on love, not only of blood relatives, but of strangers and even enemies.  It is rather a dramatic way of saying that anyone who puts any person, even those closest to them, before total commitment to Christ and his mission is not ready to be a disciple. There can be no compromise here—it is all or nothing.

Second, we also have to say that Jesus is not recommending a literal abandonment of one’s family. That would be highly irresponsible and a violation of that commandment of universal love. But it is clear that, for those who want to be part of Jesus’ work, they have to give themselves completely and unconditionally.  And where there is a choice between the clear call of the gospel and personal attachments, they have to let go of the latter.

It is important for the crowd to hear this. Following Christ is not just like football fans stalking their favourite player or ‘groupies’ following a pop star from city to city.  There is a price to be paid, and they need to know that there is one, and what it is. That price is the cross, a level of sacrifice and suffering—perhaps even of one’s life—that each one must be prepared to undergo for the sake of the gospel and the building of the Kingdom.

So, to illustrate this Jesus gives two examples. The first is of a man who had a plan to build a tower. Before he started, he made sure that he had all the necessary resources. Otherwise he might find that, after laying the foundations, he could not finish the work and he would become the laughing stock of others. “Ha! Ha! He began to build what he could not finish.”

In the second example Jesus speaks of a king with 10,000 soldiers who finds he is going to war with another king who has 20,000. If he thinks there is no way he can win, he will send an emissary to negotiate the best peace terms he can get. Similarly, says Jesus, no one can be a disciple of his who is not ready to let go of everything he has.

Following him has to be absolute and unconditional. How many of the crowd listening were ready for that?  How many of us are ready for that?  Am I ready?  What are the things I am clinging to?  What are the things I cannot let go of?  And why is that?

To be a disciple of Jesus means being absolutely free.  It reminds one of Francis of Assisi leaving his family and taking off all his rich and fancy clothes to replace them with a beggar’s rags, and being filled with a tremendous sense of joy and liberation.  Do I want to be a disciple of Jesus?  To what extent?  Am I ready to pay the price he asks?

The paradox, of course, is that once I pay the price, I will get so much in return. Just ask St Francis or St Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) about this.

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Commentary on Philippians 3:3-8

Paul has already mentioned divisions and arguing among the Philippian community. Today he indicates one source of the problem, namely, the agitation of the Judaisers (those who believed that Levitical Law should be binding on Christians). We already saw this problem when reading the Letter to the Galatians. Clearly it was a fairly widespread phenomenon. Perhaps it was less expected in Philippi, where there were not many Jews and apparently, not even a synagogue (see Acts 16:13).

The first Christians were all Jews and in the beginning they naturally followed many of their traditional customs. But once non-Jews began to be accepted as full members of the Christian community, many of these traditions and the place of the Mosaic Law were seen in a different light. It gradually became clear that the teaching of Jesus transcended this Law. It was not that the Law was abolished, but rather that the demands of the Gospel included and went far beyond the Law. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is quoted as saying:

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.
(Matt 5:17)

One of the most basic marks of identity for the Jews was circumcision. The Jews were not the only people to practise it (Muslims did also), but for them it had a very special religious significance as God’s people. Soon after non-Jews, ‘pagans’, began to be admitted to baptism, it became clear that the custom of circumcision should not be extended to them. (It would have been a very painful operation for adults, who formed the bulk of converts, to undergo.)

However, in many places, especially in more outlying areas of the Jewish diaspora*, there were Jewish converts who felt that traditional Jewish customs should be preserved, in particular, the custom of male circumcision. As we saw, Paul has much to say about this in his letter to the Galatians.

But in Philippi, too, he was faced with this problem. After attacking his critics and referring to them contemptuously as “dogs” and “evil workers”, he claims that the Christians, both Jews and Gentiles, were the real people of the circumcision. ‘Dogs’ was a highly insulting term, often applied to Gentiles, because of their ritual uncleanness. As scavengers that would eat anything, dogs were regarded as very unclean. Even Jesus used the term about Gentiles, indicating their ‘uncleanness’ (Matt 15:26). Paul is suggesting that the Judaisers are also, in a sense, unclean.

He sees circumcision in a spiritual sense. The truly ‘circumcised’ are those who are inwardly united with God through his Spirit, not those who have had a physical operation on a part of their body. The cutting of the body by itself is no guarantee of true allegiance to God. (We might say the same of the purely external observance of a sacramental ritual, e.g. pouring water and saying some words in Baptism.)

In some translations of the Bible, Paul contemptuously calls his critics ‘cutters’. Paul is using a term (Greek, katatome, literally ‘cutting down’) as a contemptuous pun on ‘circumcision’ (peritome, literally ‘cutting around’). By doing so, he is implying a comparison between physical circumcision and the self-inflicted gashes in pagan cults, as described in the famous ‘competition’ between Elijah and the priests of Baal, who slashed themselves in their frenzy (see 1 Kings 18:28).

Instead, it is the Christians who “are the circumcision”. They are the ones who worship through the Spirit of God and whose boast is in Christ Jesus, and who do not put their confidence in the flesh—that is, merely outward observances of the Old Law, or weak human nature.

And Paul does not speak as a gentile ‘outsider’. On the contrary, Paul claims he is more qualified than most other Jews, especially those in the Greek-speaking diaspora. He then proceeds to present his Jewish credentials, credentials that probably none of his Judaising opponents could match:

• Even though born in Tarsus, Paul is a true Hebrew, belonging to the tribe of Benjamin. His Jewish roots are deep and unambiguous. Jerusalem, the Holy City, lay on the border of the tribal territory of Benjamin.
• Both his parents were Hebrew (unlike some of the diaspora Jews or those converted to Judaism) and Pharisees too, as he says elsewhere. We know also that, unlike Hellenist Jews who would have spoken Greek, Paul knew Aramaic (Acts 21:40).
• He was physically circumcised at eight days after his birth, as laid down by the Law (Gen 17:12).

When it came to observing the Mosaic Law, Paul was a Pharisee. Nothing more needed to be said about his orthodoxy. As we know from the Gospels, the Pharisees made a point of observing the Law in its tiniest details. As for working for his religion, Paul was one of the most zealous in persecuting the infant Church. If observing the Law could make a person perfect, then Paul was absolutely without fault.

But that all changed when Christ came into his life. All those things he formerly believed brought him closer to God, he saw now as barriers. The former advantages were seen now as grave disadvantages; the former profits seen now as losses. For him now, everything is outweighed by the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord. And this is not knowledge about Christ, but a personal, intimate, and mutual knowing which colours every facet of his life.

It is not that the Law is wrong; it is just not needed—it has been superseded. Union with God is now seen not as the external and perfect observation of laws, regulations and traditions, but the establishment of a close, personal relationship with God through Jesus. This relationship allows God to work in a person and bring about a complete transformation in one’s thinking and behaviour.

Unfortunately, there are still Christians today who measure the quality of Christian life by strictness in keeping rules and regulations, and these tend also to be very critical of those they see as less observant than themselves. Obviously, for the sake of good order, the Church, like any other society, needs a certain number of laws and regulations.

But we must never forget that, ultimately, we will be measured not by our keeping of these regulations, but by the depth of our relationship with God in Christ, and our living out of the Gospel in relationship with others. It is the level of our loving that will be the criterion:

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:35)

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*It is not unusual for ethnic or religious groups living overseas and surrounded by “outsiders” to be more conservative and more concerned with preserving traditional marks of identity than those who are at the centre.

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Commentary on Luke 15:1-10

The previous Gospel passage seemed to show Jesus at his most radical:

Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.

Today we see Jesus’ compassionate and understanding side. These two views are not contradictory.

The Gospel says that tax collectors and sinners were gathering round to listen to Jesus. To some of the Pharisees and scribes this was quite scandalous. They say: “This fellow [Greek, houtos; and one can hear the contempt in the phrase] welcomes sinners and eats with them.” As far as they were concerned, any God-fearing person, not to mention a rabbi (teacher), would have absolutely nothing to do with such people.

It was bad enough socialising with them, but to share their food was unthinkable. They were unclean, and one became unclean by sitting at the same table with them. To eat with people was a sign of recognition and acceptance. As far as the Pharisees were concerned, these were contemptible, unclean sinners. It only confirmed the opinion of the Pharisees and scribes that Jesus was a person to be removed.

In reply, Luke gives us three separate parables, each touching on the same theme. We have two of them today. The third and most famous—the Prodigal Son—appears elsewhere in the liturgical readings (24th Sunday in Year C). Each one is a picture of God’s attitude towards the sinner, and it is very different from that of the Pharisee.

The first is of a shepherd who has lost one of 100 sheep entrusted to his care. The theme of the sheep and the shepherd is common in the Old Testament. We think of the famous Psalm 23 (“The Lord is my shepherd…”) and a beautiful passage in Ezekiel (34:11-16). Without hesitation, the good shepherd leaves the 99 ‘good’ sheep and goes off looking for the stray. When he finds it, he puts it on his shoulders and comes back in jubilation, inviting all his friends and neighbours to celebrate:

Rejoice with me, for I have found my lost sheep.

Similarly, concludes Jesus, there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who sincerely repents and comes back to God than over many (self-) ‘righteous’ people who have no need to repent, or who think they have no need to repent. There seems to be an ironic and sarcastic tone here. Who does not need to repent of something at some time? Jesus presents a totally different attitude to the repentant sinner, and he gives it as God’s own attitude.

The second parable is similar. A housewife who has “10 silver coins” (drachmas)—probably the sum total of her wealth—has lost one of them. Will she not turn the whole house upside down looking for it? A house like this would typically have no windows and rough earthen floors (and, of course, no electricity!), making a search quite difficult. But when she does eventually find it, she will call in all her friends and neighbours to share her joy:

Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.

Jesus concludes:

…there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.

“In the presence of angels”, of course, means ‘with God’.

We need to remember that these stories were told as Jesus’ response to the criticism of some scribes and Pharisees. He had absolutely no reason to apologise for his mixing with tax collectors, sinners and other social and religious outcasts. He was like the shepherd or the housewife in the parables. He was looking for people who were lost so that he could bring them back.

He spent time in their company, not because he did not mind what they did; on the contrary, his whole purpose was to change them. But he could not do that at a distance.

The mind of the Pharisee was different. These people with whom Jesus was associating were sinful and unclean, and the ‘good’ person had to have no contact with them of any kind or they too would become unclean.

Notice the different motivation. The Pharisee was only thinking of his own spiritual and ritual purity. Jesus was thinking of the person who was lost and needed to be brought back to a world of truth and love. And so he reached out. He went to where the sinner was. A Pharisee thought he was spiritually and morally strong, yet his avoiding the sinner showed he was afraid of contamination. Jesus was not afraid of such contamination—he was the really strong one. He could be with the sinners without becoming one of them.

Much of this is highly relevant for our Christian life today. There is probably a lot more of the Pharisee in our Christian hearts than we are prepared to admit. ‘Good’ Catholics tend to keep away from ‘immoral’ situations and the people who are there. ‘Good’ Catholics do not like to be seen in certain places which do not have a ‘good’ reputation. They even call them “occasions of sin”.

We tend to live in enclosed enclaves (we may hardly be able to call them ‘communities’), taking care of our own spiritual welfare. But that is not the Church that Christ founded. We are called to proclaim the Gospel. We are called to reach out to the sinner. To do so, we have to welcome them and eat with them. Instead of living in sanitised suburbs, we should be down in the poor sections of our cities, in our pubs and clubs, in our ‘red light’ districts reaching out and listening and, where possible, bringing back a sheep that is lost and does not know where it is going.

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Commentary on Luke 16:1-8

After the three wonderful parables about God’s mercy and longing for the reconciliation of the sinner, Luke swings back again in chapter 16 with two parables and related teaching about our use of material possessions, and he puts some of the responsibility for our salvation back on ourselves.

The first is a story about a rather dishonest steward or manager. His responsibilities were to handle all the business affairs of his employer. However, he had been mishandling his employer’s funds and was about to be fired. In this context, one may also think of the prodigal son who utterly wasted the inheritance his loving father had given him.

Immediately the steward begins to think of his future. He does not have the strength to do manual labour, and to go begging would be a terrible loss of face. So he thinks of a strategy by which he calls in all his employer’s debtors and reduces the amounts they owe.

The debts incurred were considerable. One hundred measures of olive oil was equivalent to about 800 gallons or the yield of 450 olive trees. One hundred measures of wheat was equal to about 1,000 bushels or the yield of 100 acres. Very few farmers would have had anything like that kind of land in Jesus’ time.

By doing this favour, the steward hopes to be able to find alternative employment with one of them. Surprisingly, his employer, far from being angry, praises the farsightedness of his corrupt steward.

Some commentators question whether the steward was actually acting dishonestly. Was he actually denying his employer money which he was really owed, or was he rather writing off the ‘commission’ which he was usuriously charging, thus inflating the proper amount owed? The Mosaic law forbade taking interest on loans from fellow Jews, so one way of getting round this was to overcharge debtors. By reducing the debts to the proper level, the steward was correcting an injustice and, at the same time, making these debtors favourably disposed towards him. Whatever the interpretation, the point Jesus is making is the same: the steward acted with shrewdness and intelligence to guarantee his future.

Jesus concludes by pointing out that the worldly (“the children of this age”) are far more astute in providing for their future than are those who are regarded as spiritual (”the children of light)”. Jesus is in no way condoning the steward’s dishonest and corrupt behaviour. What he does praise is his clear-sighted preparation for his future.

The lesson for us should also be clear. If a man can do that for his earthly career, what about our future in the life to come? If we want to guarantee our future life with God then we, too, need to take the necessary steps. Those steps are clearly laid out in the Gospel. In general, they involve a life which is built on truth and integrity, and on love, compassion and justice with regard to the people around us. Our task is to work with God in making his will our own and in building up the Kingdom. If we do this on a daily basis, then we have nothing to worry about and our future is assured.

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