More

Commentary on Titus 1:1-9

As we come to the end of the liturgical year on this third-last week, we dip into four short letters (unless there is a feast day requiring different readings): the Letter to Titus (Mon-Wed), the Letter to Philemon (Thursday), the Second Letter of John (Friday), and the Third Letter of John (Saturday). The Letters to Titus and Philemon come last in the body of the Pauline Letters, because they are the two shortest. Philemon consists of only one chapter and is more in the nature of a personal note or memo to a friend.

The Letter to Titus is the third of the ‘Pastoral Letters’, so-called because they consist largely of pastoral advice to Paul’s colleagues, Timothy and Titus. They are the only Pauline letters addressed to individuals rather than a church. There is a good deal of dispute as to whether they really were written by Paul because they clearly deal with a period following Paul’s imprisonment in Rome, with which the Acts of the Apostles ends.

Some hold that Paul was released from that imprisonment and went on another pastoral mission which included Crete, where Titus was left in charge. Others would hold that such a mission is pure speculation made to fit the awkward fact that, not Paul, but another anonymous writer authored the three Pastoral Letters, which share a common style quite unlike that of letters definitely known to have been written by Paul. This theory would date the letters around the year 100, long after Paul’s death. If Paul did write them, they would belong to a period about 65 AD.

Whatever the truth, Titus was certainly one of Paul’s most important collaborators. Strangely, he is never mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, but his name occurs 13 times in other books of the New Testament. He played a very important role in restoring peace to the Church at Corinth, where it seems Paul had made himself very unpopular (see the reading from 1 Corinthians 4:6-15 of Saturday in the 22nd Week of Cycle II, where Paul’s problems can be read between the lines).

The letter purports to be from Paul to Titus and this commentary reflects as if that is actually the case, while keeping in mind that the letter may be from another hand at a much later date (after Paul had already been dead for many years). Whatever the Letter’s real origins, we need to remember that it is now in the canon of Scripture recognised by all Christians, and is to be read primarily as the Word of God.

Today’s reading consists of the opening address of the letter, and then sets the qualifications for the appointment of elders (presbyteroi) and overseers (episkopoi) to lead the communities. The writer begins by calling himself the “servant of God”. In other letters Paul always refers to himself as the “servant of Christ”. James, in his letter, uses both terms of himself.

Paul writes that he is an “apostle”, one of those specially and personally commissioned by Christ himself, even if he is not one of the Twelve, and that:

…in due time he revealed his word through the proclamation with which I have been entrusted by the command of God our Savior…

He describes his mission as being to lead those chosen by God (through Baptism) to faith and a knowledge of the truth that brings one “in the faith we share”—i.e. into a true relationship with God that is coupled with the hope of eventually enjoying the life without end that God promises to his people.

He speaks of “God our Saviour”, and this is one of three times in the Letter when the Father is called “Saviour”. Jesus will also be referred to as “Saviour” three times.

Unlike the Cretans, known for their immorality (Titus is in Crete), God does not lie. In Christ, he has revealed his plans, and it is Paul’s mandate to make them widely known.

He then greets the addressee of the letter, Titus, wishing him the traditional:

Grace and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Savior.

Titus is called “my true child”, for it was through Paul’s ministry that Titus was converted to Christianity “in the faith we share”. In the Letter to Philemon (to be read on Thursday), Onesimus is also called a son by Paul.

As the body of the letter begins, Titus is given his instructions. By saying that he had left Titus behind in Crete, Paul seems to imply that they had both been there together, although the Acts of the Apostles does not record any such visit by Paul, except as a stop off point on his way to Rome as a prisoner. It is an open question whether Paul did go there after being released in Rome, or whether it is simply an invention of the writer. In leaving Titus in Crete, Paul was simply following his usual custom by leaving someone in charge of a church he had evangelised. He saw himself as a ‘sower’ of the seed, leaving it to others to look after the growing crop and bring in the ‘harvest’.

Titus’ main mission was to appoint elders in every town where there was a Christian community. There are two Greek words used for “elders” at this stage in the Church’s development: presbyteros, which means an ‘elder” and episcopos, which means an ‘overseer’. Later, these words gave us ‘priest’ and ‘bishop’, respectively in the English language. However, at this stage the words could be applied to the same person, and referred simply to those who were given the role of leadership in the local church. There could also be several elders in one community. We are not yet into the distinction between ‘clergy’ and ‘laity’, and the term ‘priest’ would take on meanings it certainly did not have at this time.*

The connotation of ‘elder’ is that of an older, mature person who wins the respect of the community, while ‘overseer’ looks more to the authority and responsibility that the person has over the community. It is quite certain that Christian presbyteroi or episkopoi were not merely concerned with the practical side of organising things; they also had to teach and govern. They were appointed by the Apostles or their representatives by the imposition of hands; their powers derived from God, and were charismatic.

Elsewhere we will see reference to ‘deacons’. The Greek word for ‘deacon’ (diakonos), which points to a person in a serving capacity, was at first applied to those who gave practical assistance to the elder.

Paul then gives a list of qualifications expected of an elder, or church leader. He tells Titus he should appoint:

Finally, to better understand the above qualifications, here are four comments:

• Clearly the elder is seen as a man and not a woman as this “someone” in the reading is always referred to as “he”. This was probably the only possibility in the culture of the time. Whether it is an argument against women presbyteroi in our Church today continues to be a disputed issue.
• The phrase “married only once” means a ‘husband of one wife’, i.e. it excludes any form of polygamy or anything except a purely monogamous relationship. However, it does not necessarily exclude a bachelor, or a widower, nor remarriage by an elder whose first wife had died (although Paul told the Corinthians that it is more desirable not to marry again). Since elders, by definition, were chosen from among the older men of the congregation, Paul assumed they would already be married and have children. The most likely meaning is simply that a faithful monogamous married life must be maintained.
• The requirement that the children (and presumably the wife) be also Christian was most made likely so that the whole family would give witness to the Gospel. What kind of a Christian leader could not lead his own family members to Christ?
• The term “self-controlled” means possessing the inner strength to control one’s desires and actions. Given that the people of Crete had a notorious reputation for all that was gross and immoral, the elder had to give an outstanding example of a person free from such behaviour. Paul refers to this five times in two chapters.
• The emphasis on sound doctrine (“trustworthy word”) is a central theme of all the Pastoral Letters and reflects concerns about various erratic teachings, especially forms of Gnosticism, which were current in the post-Pauline period. The word “sound” occurs eight times in these letters, but is never used in any of the other Pauline letters.

___________________________________________
*In Greek and Latin, the words for ‘priest’ were hiereus and sacerdos, respectively. These words explicitly indicate a ritualistic, sacrificial priesthood as found in the Jewish priesthood of the Old Testament, and in the priests found in the pagan temples and places of religious worship in Greece and Rome. In the early New Testament, this word was applied only to Jesus, our Great High Priest and our only Priest, all other priesthoods having been abolished. This is put most clearly in the Letter to the Hebrews. How presbyter became hiereus is a question we cannot go into here. With the word hiereus comes, of course, both the concept and the reality of ‘hier-archy’, rule by priests. Paul and his Christian contemporaries might find all this very strange and even disturbing.

More

Commentary on Philemon 7-20

Today we begin reading from the three shortest books of the New Testament—a reading from Paul’s Letter to Philemon. The whole ‘book’ consists of just one chapter and is, in the strict sense, a letter from one friend to another. Paul even claims to have written it in his own hand; most of his longer letters were dictated to secretaries, or even partly written by them following Paul’s instructions. The letter was written about the same time as the Letters to the Colossians and Ephesians. Paul is in prison, but where is not quite certain. It is thought that Rome was too far away for him to have been visited by the slave, Onesimus. One possibility is Ephesus, where Paul seems to have been imprisoned for a while, and which was not too far from Colosse, where Philemon lived.

The situation is that a slave, Onesimus, seems to have run away from his master, Philemon, and found shelter with Paul. There is a suggestion that Onesimus may have run away because he had stolen from his master. In which case, Philemon—understandably—may not have been very well disposed to his slave. However, during his time with Paul, Onesimus became a Christian. Philemon was also a convert of Paul’s, so Paul felt a special affinity for these two men and was anxious for reconciliation between them as brothers in Christ. The letter is written in very tactful language (by one not particularly known for his gift of diplomacy), as if Paul is not at all sure of the outcome.

Today’s passage begins with outright praise for Philemon himself. Paul is delighted to hear of Philemon’s love:

…because the hearts of the saints [i.e. the Christians of his church] have been refreshed through you…

It seems as if Philemon is a church leader and that, of course, means that higher standards are expected of him, e.g. in dealing with a runaway slave.

Paul continues by appealing to Philemon’s love rather than his duty (which might be to punish the errant slave). He further appeals as an “old man” languishing in prison for his Christian faith. He calls Onesimus:

…my child…whose father I have become during my imprisonment.

This appears to be a way of indicating that the slave had been converted to Christianity. Paul was now his ‘father in Christ’. In Paul’s eyes, this changed the status of Onesimus with respect to his master, also a Christian and also a “child” of Paul’s.

He suggests that Onesimus—no doubt as a result of the formation that Paul has given him—has changed:

Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to you and to me.

This is a play on the Onesimus’ name which means ‘useful’.

Paul says that he would like to have kept Onesimus with him:

I wanted to keep him with me so that he might minister to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel…

Despite this, he wants to send Onesimus back to Philemon:

I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced.

Clearly, he is not altogether sure of Philemon’s reaction, and that is why he is writing this letter first. He does not want to force Philemon’s hand; he would prefer that Philemon himself take the initiative in inviting back his slave, now that he knows where he is.

And Paul is sending back Onesimus now not just as a slave, but as someone who is a brother in Christ both to Paul and Philemon. The implication is not just that Onesimus is now a baptised Christian, but that he has changed as a person. So Paul begs Philemon to take Onesimus back and, if there is any talk of restitution for stolen property, Paul will take care of it himself. The guarantee is the letter written in his own handwriting. And because the gift of faith had come to Philemon through Paul, Philemon is, in a sense, indebted to Paul. He can pay part of that debt by taking Onesimus back.

We do not know, of course, what happened as a result of this letter. But it is a good example of Christian forgiveness and reconciliation. And in a world where slavery and its resultant inequality was never questioned, it shows how Christian love must eventually lead to people being treated on exactly the same level where human dignity and worth are concerned. It was already pointing the way to the abolition of slavery, a condition that would still continue for many centuries to come.

And that is why this informal letter of one friend to another finds its place in our Bible, as the Word of God. It gives an example for all of us to follow.

It is often difficult for us to trust a person who has wronged us in some way. It is often difficult to accept that people can change radically. We see this in our attitudes to people who have been in prison. There was great disquiet some time ago in the US, when a woman on death row, who had clearly become a totally rehabilitated person and a sincere convert to religious faith, was nevertheless sent to the electric chair for the crimes she committed earlier in a ‘different’ life. Our society tends to want to exact its ‘pound of flesh’, i.e. to want to punish rather than to reform or rehabilitate.

Jesus was not like that. He was the one who consistently ate and drank with sinners and social outcasts. As a Church, we should hope that accusation will be thrown at us frequently.

More

Commentary on Luke 18:35-43

Here we have Luke’s version of the story of the blind man, called by Mark, Bar-Timaeus—the son of Timaeus.

In Mark, the story is strategically placed at the end of a long teaching section where Jesus’ disciples are slowly deepening their understanding of Jesus and his mission. The story, full of symbols, sums up all that has gone before. It is like a mini-gospel (see the commentary for Thursday of Week 8 in Ordinary Time).

In Luke, the story has also a very significant positioning. It falls between two other stories, both about rich people. One was a highly religious man who was not able to accept Jesus’ condition that he share his wealth with the poor before becoming a disciple. The other is about a man who supposedly was anything but religious and yet, after meeting Jesus, gives away a large proportion of his wealth to the poor. Which of these was really blind?

In addition, the first story of a rich man is followed by the third prediction of Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection, after which, says Luke, the disciples did not understand what Jesus was talking about:

But they understood nothing about all these things; in fact, what he said was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said. (Luke 18:34)

His Apostles—they too are blind.

As the story opens, we are told that Jesus was approaching Jericho. Jericho was already a very ancient city, located about 8 km west of the River Jordan and about 25 km north-east of Jerusalem. In Jesus’ time, the Jericho of the Old Testament was largely abandoned, but a new city, south of the old one, had been built by Herod the Great. It was the last main stop for Jesus before arriving in Jerusalem.

In Mark’s version, Jesus is leaving Jericho, but here Luke has Jesus approaching the city. Mark has Jesus leaving Jericho on the way to Jerusalem and his passion, and the blind man becomes his follower. Luke has Jesus going into and through Jericho on the way to Jerusalem because he wants to bring in Zacchaeus (a rich man whose eyes are opened by Jesus), a story not mentioned by either Mark or Matthew.

Luke’s story begins with a blind man sitting beside the road begging (in Matthew’s account, there are actually two blind men; see Matt 20:29-34). As we have mentioned before, the ‘road’ is the Way to Jerusalem on which all of Jesus’ disciples must walk together with him. When the beggar hears that Jesus is passing by he begins to call out in a loud voice:

Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!

By addressing Jesus as ‘Son of David’, he implies Jesus’ role as Messiah-King.

The people tell him to keep quiet. A useless beggar like him has no right disturbing the Master. But the man ignores them and keeps crying out (in this he reminds us of the persistent widow we read about the other day). Then, Jesus stops. If the man had not kept calling out, Jesus might not have heard him and might have passed forever out of his life. How often does that happen to us?

Jesus orders the man to be brought to him. Again, it is always through other people that we come to know Jesus—and sometimes it will be through me, and only through me, that others will come to know him. I may be the only link that a person has with Jesus—something to think about. On the other hand, I may be the one person who blocks someone approaching Jesus and his Way. We saw earlier what happens to those who are a ‘scandal’, a stumbling block to Jesus.

Jesus asks:

What do you want me to do for you?

It is a question that he keeps asking me. How do I answer? Have my answers changed over the years? Today let me reflect on what I really want from him. And ask him for it.

Now listen to this man’s response to Jesus’ question:

Lord, let me see again.

Of course, one might think, it was a natural response from a person who was blind. But in a wider sense, so is each one of us. We all need to see. It is our poor sight that prevents us from knowing Jesus and seeing where he wants us to go. We could hardly make a better request.

Jesus immediately responds:

Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.

If only we too had the faith that would help us to see clearly!

And what did the man do when he could see? He became a follower of Jesus and gave glory to God. No longer blind, no longer a beggar, no longer by the road, but on the road with Jesus. On the road—and Jesus is the Road, the Way—to Jerusalem and all that it means. That is the natural response for those who can really see.

Just before this (not part of our readings), the rich man who wanted “eternal life” was not able to “see” and so could not accept Jesus’ invitation. In contrast, tomorrow we will meet someone who did have his eyes opened and responded generously.

The story also applies to Jesus’ disciples who gradually will have their eyes opened too, and then they will understand why Jesus had to suffer and die on his way to glory. They will understand that it was the uttermost proof of God’s love for each one of us.

More

Commentary on Genesis 49:29-33; 50:15-26

We conclude our reading from the book of Genesis today. We hear Jacob giving his final instructions before his death. He wants to be buried close to his ancestors, Abraham and Isaac with their wives.

Bury me with my ancestors in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite, in the cave in the field at Machpelah, near Mamre, in the land of Canaan, in the field that Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite as a burial site.

We read about this purchase on Friday of Week 13. There Abraham and his wife, Isaac and his wife and Jacob’s wife, Leah, were all buried.

Then Jacob, having given his final instructions to his sons,

…he drew up his feet into the bed, breathed his last, and was gathered to his people.

That is, he joined all of his ancestors in Sheol.

With the death of Jacob, the sons were full of trepidation that Joseph would now want to settle his accounts with his brothers for all they had done to him. They pre-empted any vengeful action by sending Joseph a message. They quoted their father as telling them to go to Joseph and beg forgiveness for all the wrong they had done to him:

We beg you, forgive the crime of the servants of your father’s God.

Once again, Joseph weeps on the receiving their message.

They prostrated themselves before him and expressed their readiness to be his slaves. They need not have worried. Their prostration is another example of the prophetic dream which Joseph had shared with his brothers many years previously. And, ironically, in times to come, the Israelites will be reduced to virtual slavery in Egypt and this will trigger the Exodus.

They did not reckon with their brother; Joseph was a much bigger man than they:

Do not be afraid! Am I in the place of God?

He then tells them that all the evil they planned against him has, in God’s plan, been turned to good and has resulted in the liberation of many people. Joseph then promises to provide for them and all their dependents. It was now the brothers’ turn to be deeply touched by the magnanimity of someone who could, with some justification, have made things very nasty for them. We see here a clear pre-figuring of the teaching and example of Jesus later on. His teaching on the love of enemies, turning the other cheek and forgiving seventy times seven.

This may well be said to be the central lesson of the whole Joseph story. This is a lesson which we can apply to unpleasant experiences in our own lives. As Paul says:

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God… (Rom 8:28)

And probably it is only when we love God that we can understand the place of the evil and the tragic in our lives.

From now on, Joseph stays with his own family and lives to be 110 years old, long enough to see many of his grandchildren. It is now his time to leave the world. He tells his brothers he is confident that God will look kindly on them and, in time, bring them back from Egypt to the land he had promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in perpetuity.

And finally he asks his brothers to swear an oath that his bones be taken back to be buried with his fathers. This will not in fact happen until centuries later when Moses, mindful of Joseph’s last wish, will take Joseph’s bones with him as the Israelites begin their long trek to the Promised Land (see Exod 13:19). Joseph’s bones were eventually:

…buried at Shechem, in the portion of ground that Jacob had bought from the children of Hamor, the father of Shechem… (Jos 24:32; also see Gen 33:19)

The last verse of Genesis, which is not in our reading, says:

And Joseph died, being one hundred ten years old; he was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.

For the Egyptians the number 110 was seen as the perfect life span and would signify divine blessings on Joseph. Note too that the very last word of the book is “Egypt” and it is the setting for the opening of the next book, Exodus, and the next stage in the history of God’s People. In the coming weeks we will be reading passages from that great saga.

More

Commentary on 1 Maccabees 2:15-29

Today, we go back to reading from the First Book of Maccabees and continue the story of the persecution of the Jews.

The New Jerusalem Bible comments:

“Persecution produces a revival of religious awareness. Jewish opposition to Hellenism takes the form of physical violence, passive resistance, and ultimately a war of religion under the leadership of Mattathias, but particularly under Judas Maccabeus. Judas had realised that religious and political independence were interconnected: for this reason the struggle continued even after religious freedom had been won. But the shift from the religious to a political ground led to the compromises and party squabbles occupying the last part of the book. These in the end were to oust religious zeal and discredit the Maccabees’ successors, the Hasmonaeans, in the estimation of their devout contemporaries.”

As the reading opens we are told that officials of King Antiochus had arrived in Modein, the town where Mattathias, son of a priest and originally from Jerusalem, had settled. The officials’ task was to force people to abandon their traditional religion and join in the sacrifices of the now official religion imposed by the king. While many of the Israelites complied with the government order and joined in the sacrifices, Mattathias and his sons stood apart.

The officials approached Mattathias and tried to persuade him to change his mind. They used words of flattery and spoke of Mattathias as a great man in the town and a respected leader. Because of his position, they urged him to step forward and give an example which others would then surely follow. Then came the enticements. If Mattathias and sons would step forward for the sacrifice, they would be reckoned as:

Friends of the king, and…[his] sons will be honored with silver and gold and many gifts.

“Friend of the King” was a title of honour and a holdover from the court of Persia. There were several grades. A “Friend” also had free access to the king, who would, from time to time, assign him various responsibilities. In yesterday’s reading, we saw that the youngest of the seven Maccabee sons was also bribed with this honour.

Mattathias responded to the king by saying that even if every nation in the king’s dominions were to conform to his commands, he, his brothers and his sons would remain faithful to the Law and its observances. So they would not obey the king’s command or deviate in any way from their religious beliefs.

Just as he finished speaking, a Jew came forward in the sight of all to offer sacrifice as the king’s edict had laid down, and:

When Mattathias saw it, he burned with zeal, and his heart was stirred. He gave vent to righteous anger; he ran and slaughtered him on the altar.

In these circumstances, the anger against such a flagrant violation of the Law is seen as justified. The killing is another matter.

But things did not stop there. Mattathias went on to cut down the royal commissioner responsible for enforcing the offering of sacrifice and also tore down the altar. In so doing, we are told that he imitated the example of Phinehas against Zimri, son of Salu.

The story of Phinehas is told in the Book of Numbers. Phinehas belonged to the priestly caste and was a grandson of Aaron, while Zimri was a prince of the ancestral house of the Simeonites. When Phinehas saw Zimri bring a Midianite woman (an unclean Gentile from a hostile people) into the camp, presumably with sexual intentions, Phinehas immediately, fired with the same kind of anger, went and stabbed both Zimri and the woman in the alcove where they were ensconced. For this act of zeal for the Law he was commended by Yahweh (see Num 25:6-15).

Mattathias then went through the town calling on all those who, like him, had zeal for the Law and based their lives on the covenant, to follow him and leave Modein. He then fled with his sons into the hills, leaving all his possessions behind. Many people “who were seeking righteousness and justice” did not actually take to the hills, but went out into the desert and remained there. The rebellion had begun.

We certainly admire Mattathias for his zeal, his courage and his total dedication to God’s Law as he understood it. We could hardly—in the light of the Gospel—admire his violence in killing two people.

There is also the danger, in a situation like his, of fanaticism taking over, as has been seen in religion-associated movements of our own time: Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland; Catholics, Orthodox and Muslims in the former country of Yugoslavia; Hindus and Muslims in India; and of course, the great sadness of the Jews and Palestinians in the Middle East. There is no wonder religion is so poorly thought of by some!

A true religion requires fidelity unto death, but it also rejects violence of any kind and respects other religious beliefs held in sincerity and good faith. We might profitably examine our own behaviour for any sign of bigotry, intolerance, prejudice or judgementalism—even against fellow-Catholics.

More

Commentary on Matthew 6:7-15

Into yesterday’s passage on how we are to worship God through prayer, alms and fasting, Matthew places a related piece of teaching on how we ought to pray. This clearly seems to be an insertion, and today we deal with it separately.

Jesus tells his disciples not to pray like many of the Gentiles. They go in for long prayers, hoping that eventually God will hear them. That is quite unnecessary, Jesus says, because our Father already knows our needs before we ask. If that is the case, why then should we bother praying at all? We do not pray to tell God what he already knows—we pray so that we will realise more deeply our own needs and our total dependence on him.

Jesus then goes on and tells his disciples how they should pray. He teaches them, in effect, what we now call the Lord’s Prayer, or the ‘Our Father’. We have become accustomed to reciting this prayer very often—at every Mass, as well as whenever we say the Rosary and at many other times.

The prayer in this form (Luke has a shorter version) contains seven petitions. Seven is a favourite number for Matthew. In listing the genealogy of Jesus he divides it into three lists of seven (chapter 1 of his Gospel); there were probably seven Beatitudes in the original text (chap 5); there are seven parables of the Kingdom (chap 13); forgiveness is to be offered not seven times, but 77 times (chap 18); and there are seven ‘Woes’ when denouncing the Pharisees (chap 23). Finally, the Gospel itself is divided into seven main sections (Infancy, five discourses, Passion).

The text of the Lord’s Prayer should not be seen as just a formula for vocal recitation. It is, rather, a series of statements and petitions in which we affirm our relationship with God, with the people around us and with the world in general. It is a statement of faith and it is, as we shall see, a highly challenging and, therefore, even rather dangerous prayer.

Let us take a brief look at the petitions one by one.

Our Father
The challenge and the danger begin right in the first two words. We address God as Father, the source of life and of everything that we have; we have nothing purely of our own. But God is not just ‘Father’; he is ‘our‘ Father. And that ‘our’ includes every single person who lives or has ever lived on this earth; not a single person can be excluded.

In addressing God as ‘our Father’ we are acknowledging that every human person (every one of us) is a child of God, and therefore, that we all belong to one huge family where we are all, in a very real way, brothers and sisters to each other. There is no room here for rejection, or hatred, or prejudice or contempt of any kind based on race, nationality, colour of skin, gender, sexual orientation, social class, religion or anything else. If I am not prepared to accept every single person as a brother or sister, I will have problems even beginning to say this prayer.

May your name be revered as holy
Other forms are ‘Hallowed be thy name’ or ‘Holy be your name’. Of course, God’s name is holy no matter what we say or think. We make this prayer more for our sake rather than for his. Here we are praying that God’s name be held in the deepest respect by people everywhere. That is sadly not the case. Some people despise his name and others do not even know it. We pray that the whole world will know God’s name, which is to say, to know and recognise God as their God and Lord, their Creator and Conserver and the final end of their lives on this earth. It is, in fact, another form of the next petition.

Your Kingdom come
We have already spoken about the nature of the Kingdom. It might be more accurate to say, ‘Your kingship come’. In other words, we pray that every person in our world may put themselves consciously and willingly under the kingship and lordship and the love of God. We do this, above all, by our working together to make this world the kind of place that God wants it to be—a place of truth and love, of justice and peace, of sharing and caring. In one sense, of course, God is Lord irrespective of our relationship to him. But it is clearly his will that people, on their part, should accept that loving lordship as the centre of their lives. And that is the work of the Church and of every single Christian, indeed of every person anywhere—to help people recognise the kingship and lordship of God and to accept it as the key to their present and future happiness.

Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven
This, in a way, is simply another way of saying what we have already asked for in the previous two petitions—it is the will of God that people everywhere recognise the holiness of his name and submit themselves gladly to his kingship and lordship in our world. We do that most effectively by identifying totally with the mission and work of Jesus to bring life, healing and wholeness to our world. To do the will of God is not simply to throw aside what we want and accept God’s will even when it is totally contrary to our own. We are only fully doing God’s will when we can see clearly that what he wants is always what is the very best for us. And we are only fully doing his will when we fully want what he wants, when our will and his will are in perfect harmony. Then we do what he wants and we do what we want. We are praying here to reach that level of oneness.

Give us today our daily bread
While it does not look like it, this also is a highly dangerous prayer for us to make. First of all, we are only asking for what we need now. Later in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus will tell us not to be anxious about the future. We are asking for what we need today; tomorrow is another day. We take care of one day at a time.

But there is one little word here that is highly dangerous. It is the word ‘us’. Who is that ‘us’? Just me and my immediate family? Or my parish? Or my neighbourhood or my town or my country? Surely it is the same as that ‘our’ in the first petition—it includes every single person. I am praying, therefore, that every single person have bread to eat today. We know, of course, that there are millions of people (some of them in wealthy countries) who do not have enough to eat, or who suffer from malnutrition and poorly balanced diets. In praying that all of ‘us’ have our daily bread, are we expecting God to drop manna from the skies or are we not reminding ourselves that the feeding of brothers and sisters is our responsibility? If people are hungry or badly fed, it is not God’s doing. Human beings are directly responsible for this in most cases (outside of natural disasters).

This petition prayer can also include the Bread of the Eucharist. But in sharing that Bread together we are saying sacramentally that we are a sharing people and we will share our goods and blessings with others, especially those in need. Otherwise our Eucharist becomes a kind of sacrilege.

And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors
Again, is this not another dangerous prayer to make? We are asking that God’s forgiveness to us be conditional on our readiness to forgive those we perceive to have hurt us in some way. That is a daring thing to do. And forgiveness does not simply mean uttering a few words. Forgiveness in the Scripture always includes an attempt at reconciliation between offender and offended. But even if reconciliation is not achieved, we can still forgive.

We can go even further and say that the fully Christian person is never offended—or even more, cannot be offended. The true Christian has a rock solid sense of their own security and their own inner worth which no other person can take away. When such a person is the recipient of some attack, be it verbal or physical, their first response is to reach out to the attacker with concern and sympathy. It is the attacker who has the problem, not the one attacked. Most of us have a long way to go to reach that level of inner peace. If what you say about me is true, I accept it; if it is false, then it is false. Why should I take offence?

And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one (or from evil)
In the end, we acknowledge our weaknesses and our total dependence on God’s help. We pray that we will not find ourselves in a situation where we fall seriously. We ask to be protected from the powers of evil with which we are surrounded.

Some texts conclude with:

For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen

This prayer is used by many Christian denominations and has now been included in the Catholic Eucharist after the Lord’s Prayer, but separated by a prayer for peace. It is believed that this conclusion, not found in most Bible manuscripts, was introduced for liturgical reasons.

Finally, in addition to simply reciting this prayer in the rapid way we normally do, we could sometimes take it very slowly, one petition at a time and let its meaning sink in. Or we could just take one petition which is particularly meaningful to us at any time and just stay with it until it really becomes part of us.

More

Commentary on Matthew 9:9-13

The cure of the paralytic is immediately followed by the call of Matthew, named Levi by Mark and Luke in their versions of the story. Matthew/Levi was an unlikely disciple; he was a tax collector. Tax collectors were among the most despised group of people in Jewish society of the time. Tax collectors never can be particularly popular, given their distasteful job, but in Jesus’ time they were collecting taxes for the hated and pagan colonial ruler. As such they were seen as collaborators and traitors to their own people and to their religion. The Romans had the custom of farming out the collecting of taxes to volunteer agents. These individuals paid up-front the amount that the Romans demanded, and then had to get the money back from the people. In doing so they often collected more than they had paid the Romans. This was their ‘commission’, but there was often an element of extortion and corruption in the whole practice.

Now Jesus invites one of these despised people to be his follower. It is an example of Jesus’ looking beyond the exterior and the stereotype to the potential of the real person inside. Immediately after this, Jesus is seen sitting “in the house” having dinner with his disciples when they are joined by a number of tax collectors and other public sinners. It is not clear whether the ‘the’ refers to the house where Jesus was staying or Matthew’s house. In either event, it was bound to attract the notice of Jesus’ critics.

And indeed some Pharisees, seeing this, are shocked. They ask the disciples (not Jesus):

Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?

For the Pharisees, if Jesus is a man of God and a teacher, how can he be seen in the company of people who are religiously unclean? To be in their company is to become contaminated and unclean also.

Overhearing them, Jesus replies:

Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.

Jesus turns the tables on the Pharisees by looking at the situation from a completely different perspective.

The problem is not of Jesus’ becoming contaminated by the sinful and the unclean, but rather their becoming healed by his presence and influence. The legally-minded (the ritualists) are only interested in themselves; those governed by love (the merciful) think primarily of the needs of their brothers and sisters. There is no need for Jesus to spend time with the virtuous, i.e. with the already converted; it is those in spiritual and moral deprivation with whom he needs to spend his time.

The lesson of today’s reading is extremely relevant for our own day. When looking for potential followers of Christ, where do we tend to look? How many times have we heard people wonder why God picked them as Christian leaders—as priests, religious or lay people? When we look at the Twelve Apostles, they were indeed a strange bunch: full of faults, fragile in their faith, but in the end they started something extraordinary.

Is it not true that a great deal of our pastoral energies in our churches are directed at those already converted? Is it also not true that those most in need of experiencing Christ’s love and healing may be found in places where we are hesitant to go? Perhaps we should have courage and look for people in such places; Christ will be with us when we go there.

More

Commentary on Matthew 13:1-9

Today we come to the third of the five discourses of Jesus found in Matthew’s Gospel. It consists entirely of the Parables of the Kingdom of Heaven, as Matthew calls it. It might be helpful to go back to Monday of the 10th Week (Ordinary Time) and look again at what is said there about the meaning of the ‘Kingdom of heaven’. Briefly to repeat, we are talking about, not a place and still less a place in the future life, but a network of people and communities who are committed to all that God is and stands for, as revealed to us through the life and teaching of Jesus. The people are those who work to see that God’s will be done on earth, which is the establishment of the Kingdom.

These parables, then, are images that Jesus gives to help us understand how we are to enter into and become part of that Kingdom—of that kingship of God to which we adhere with all our heart and soul.

Our passage begins:

That same day Jesus went out of the house…

What day? And what house? It seems that Matthew is linking the parables of the Kingdom with the scene at the end of chapter 12 (vv 46-50) about those who are on the ‘inside’ and those on the ‘outside’. The house—whose ownership is never referred to, and we know that Jesus had no house of his own—seems to refer to any place where people are gathered together with Jesus.

For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them. (Matt 18:20)

And wherever people are closely related with Jesus, not just physically, but intentionally, that is what it means to be on the ‘inside’, and it is also to be part of the Kingdom.

We are told that the crowds wanting to listen to Jesus were so great that he had to use a boat moored near the shore to speak to them. In the Gospel, the boat often represents the Church or the Christian community from which Jesus continues to speak his message to the world. We are also told that he spoke to them in parables. Once again, Matthew uses his favourite number by having seven of them. Just to remind ourselves: there are 2×7 generations in Jesus’ genealogy; 7 Beatitudes; forgiveness not 7 but 77 times; 7 ‘alas’ in the condemnation of the Pharisees; and his Gospel is divided into seven main sections—infancy, five discourses, passion.

For three days, that is, for the rest of this week, we are going to be considering the first and the longest of the parables, the parable of the sower. First, today, we have the parable itself, then tomorrow some explanation of the role of parables in Jesus’ teaching and, finally on Saturday, an interpretation of the parable.

The parable itself is very straightforward. It speaks about a farmer sowing seed in his field, a typical Palestinian field of the time. It is obviously a very mixed patch of ground. There are paths going across it where people have long established a right of way. There are bits of rock sticking up above the ground with small hollows where water can gather after rain. At that time, ploughing was done after the seed was sown, so there are weeds and brambles growing wild all over the place. And then there are parts of the field which have good, fertile soil.

This image largely describes too the field in which Jesus, the preacher and teacher, is working. It provides very mixed soil, and much of the seed does not go very far in producing fruit. All this has been described in what we have already seen of Jesus’ mission among the people, the religious leaders, his own family—and his disciples. It is these latter who are the fertile soil, these are the ones who will enter, who are already entering the Kingdom.

A parable in the Gospel usually makes just one point. In this case the message is that God’s plan will succeed, even though there seem to be setbacks. It was as important a message for the early Christians to hear as it is for us today. It is a word of encouragement when Christians see how little success they seem to have at times in their evangelising work. The message is not to worry—God’s Word will prevail, and there will always be fertile soil in which to grow and multiply. Indeed, in the past, some communities did fail, but overall the Christian communities grew and the message spread to every corner of the world.

And then there is the final exhortation:

If you have ears, hear!

‘Listening’ and ‘hearing’ are sometimes used interchangeably. In this context, to ‘hear’ is not just to be physically capable of picking up sound. To ‘hear’ presumes attention and awareness; it implies understanding and acceptance and, ultimately, implementation of what is heard.

Am I ready to enter the Kingdom? What kind of soil do I present for the Lord’s Word? Am I really listening to him in the fullest sense?

More

Commentary on Luke 13:1-9

Catastrophes or accidents which take people’s lives constantly force people to ask, Why? or Why them? Why did that young mother die giving birth to her child? Why did that young father die of cancer and leave behind a family struggling to survive? Why did my father die at the age of 66 while my mother lived to be 92?

Today, Jesus mentions two apparently recent incidents in which lives were lost. In one case, Pilate, the Roman governor, had some Galileans executed in the Temple precincts. It is not clear as to why; perhaps the Galileans had violated some Roman regulation about public order. In the other, eighteen people were killed when a tower in Siloam, inside the south-east section of Jerusalem’s wall, fell on top of them. There is no other record in history of either of these two events. However, the first is regarded as typical of Pilate’s administration.

The New American Bible carries the following note:

The slaughter of the Galileans by Pilate is unknown outside Luke; but from what is known about Pilate from the Jewish historian Josephus, such a slaughter would be in keeping with the character of Pilate. Josephus reports that Pilate had disrupted a religious gathering of the Samaritans on Mt. Gerizim with a slaughter of the participants and that on another occasion Pilate had killed many Jews who had opposed him, when he appropriated money from the temple treasury to build an aqueduct in Jerusalem. (edited)

It seems that some people at the time were saying that this was a punishment of God on these people for moral wrongs they had done. Jesus disagrees:

Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?

Jesus asserts:

No, I tell you, unless you repent you will all perish as they did.

The sins of the victims were not the cause of their death, but they are certainly warnings to the rest of us to see if we are ready for such a certain eventuality. And Jesus goes on to illustrate his meaning with a parable:

A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the man working the vineyard, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good, but if not, you can cut it down.’

The story can be linked to what Jesus has just said. In a sense, the people he has been talking to are like fig trees that have not borne fruit. The three years mentioned in the story may refer to the length of Jesus’ own ministry. However, they still have a chance to turn their lives around, a chance which was not given to those who had died in those two incidents.

We, too, are being given a chance—for a day? A month? Several years? The fact is that we have no idea. What is clear is that there is no time to waste; we have to start today. For God, the past is not what counts or the future, but only the present. As long as I am with him now, I have nothing to worry about.

More

Commentary on Mark 8:14-21

Yesterday we saw the blindness of the Pharisees in asking Jesus to give some sign of his authority from God.  Today we see the blindness of Jesus’ own disciples.  This, of course, is pointing to our own blindness in not recognising the clear presence of God in our own lives.

The disciples are travelling across the lake in the boat.  They had forgotten to bring food with them and there was only one loaf between them all.  As they cross the lake, Jesus is talking to them saying:

Watch out—beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod.

For the Jews, yeast was a corrupting agent because it caused fermentation.  That was why at the Pasch they ate unleavened, incorrupt bread.  And Paul tells the Corinthians:

Clean out the old yeast so that you may be a new batch of dough, as you really are unleavened. (1 Cor 5:7)

Jesus is telling his disciples to avoid two opposing kinds of corruption: that of the Pharisees, which is based on narrow-minded and intolerant legalism, and that of Herod, which is based on amoral and hedonistic pleasure-seeking.

However, the disciples are not really listening to their Master.  They latch on to the word “yeast” and link it with their present obsession—not enough bread.  Their lunch is the only thing on their minds.  Jesus, of course, knows what is going on in their minds.

He scolds them:

Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and fail to see? Do you have ears and fail to hear? And do you not remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?

They answer, “Twelve”, and Jesus says:

And the seven for the four thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?

And they responded, “Seven”.

Then Jesus said to them:

Do you not yet understand?

Five loaves for 5,000 with 12 baskets over, seven loaves for 4,000 with seven baskets over, and they, a mere dozen people, are worried about being short of food when Jesus is with them?

Mark tends to be very hard on the disciples.  They cannot see, they cannot hear, and they fail to understand what is happening before their very eyes.  But they are learning gradually, as we shall see. 

Of course, Mark is firing his shots not just at the disciples, but at you and me.  How much faith do we have in God’s care for us?  Can we hear? Can we see?  Are we also without understanding?