Sunday of week 1 of Christmas – Cycle C
Commentary on Isaiah 52:7-10; Hebrews 1:1-15; John 1:1-18 Read Sunday of week 1 of Christmas – Cycle C »
Boo
Commentary on Isaiah 52:7-10; Hebrews 1:1-15; John 1:1-18 Read Sunday of week 1 of Christmas – Cycle C »
BooCommentary on 1 Samuel 26:2,7-9,12-13,22-23; 1 Corinthians 15:45-49; Luke 6:27-38
Many desire to have power:
In general, power is seen as the ability to force people to do what I want. However, the Gospel today speaks of another kind of power—the power of love and justice. In this power, both the giver and receiver benefit.
Hopelessly idealistic
At first sight, the Gospel seems downright silly or hopelessly idealistic. Jesus tells his disciples:
Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you pray for those who mistreat you.
But there is ‘worse’ to come:
If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also,
from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt [i.e. the rest of your clothes].
Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again.
Surely this is not to be taken seriously. Are we to invite people to trample on our basic rights? Yet, far from being wimpish, the implementation of this teaching requires tremendous inner strength and a strong sense of security. It calls for an overwhelming awareness of the inalienable dignity, value and rights of every other person irrespective of how they behave.
Hitting back
For many, it seems perfectly natural and justifiable to hit back when struck—justly or unjustly—to give as good as you get when someone uses abusive language against you. In our ‘macho’ world, you are only tough when, as in the movies, you are ready and able to hit back hard when abused, insulted or physically attacked. When the hero does it, it is even called ‘justice’. (But not when the ‘bad guy’ does it.)
In fact, it requires a great deal more strength and courage not to hit back—not because of fear, but because by doing so one lowers oneself to the same level of one’s opponent. By hitting back, where was originally one act of violence, now there are two. Where does it end?
Let’s look at some examples of today’s Gospel in practice:
In today’s First Reading, King Saul with 3,000 men went out to kill David, but at night David and Abishai got into Saul’s camp. Saul was asleep with his spear beside him. Abishai said to David:
God has given your enemy into your hand today; now, therefore, let me pin him to the ground with one stroke of the spear…
But David refused to kill the king chosen and anointed by God. However, he does quietly remove the spear and a pitcher of water. When Saul woke he realised how close he had been to being killed by the man he wanted to kill. David had made his point. He respected the dignity of Saul, wicked though Saul was. In doing so, David also revealed his own strength and greatness, and this is recognised by Saul, who says:
Blessed be you, my son David! You will do many things and will succeed in them. (1 Sam 26:25)
Hate in Saul turns to blessing. This is one of the desired effects of non-violence.
In another instance, when Jesus was brought before the Sanhedrin, (the ruling council of the Jews), he was struck on the face by a soldier and accused of insolence. Jesus did not retaliate, but simply asked:
If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong. But if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me? (John 18:23)
He speaks calmly and with dignity, respecting the soldier’s dignity. It is a perfect example of active non-violence. Significantly, Jesus was not struck again. His restraint was seen for what it was: courage, not weakness.
In the whole of his Passion, Jesus reveals his strength. He prayed for those battering him to death:
Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. (Luke 23:34)
The prophet Ezekiel writes:
Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, says the Lord God, and not rather that they should turn from their ways and live? (Ez 18:23)
Revenge wants to destroy. Love wants to restore life, truth, justice and right relationships between people.
Not so idealistic, not so difficult
What Jesus is saying in the Gospel is far from impossible or idealistic. It is really the only truly human, and not just the Christian, way to go. And, much of the time, it is not as difficult as it seems.
It is really a question of an attitude, a conviction. It is easy for the Christian to love enemies because the real Christian does not have any, in the sense of people against whom he or she feels deep-seated hatred or resentments.
Jesus’ words presume that, for the Christian, there are no outsiders. It is easy to love those who love us, to love ‘our own kind’ or ‘our own people’. But, as Jesus himself pointed out, even those who are evil may take care of their own. But we are called to be like God, of whom Jesus is the living, human image and in whose image we also are made. Jesus says:
…love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return…for he himself [God] is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
Of course, there may be people who are hostile to the Christian. Being a fully-fledged Christian calls on one to love all, but there is no guarantee of being loved by all in return. People wanted to kill Jesus, and they did.
It is also important to know that “love” here does not mean being “in love” or even feeling affection or a liking for those who want to destroy us. Loving those out to get us is obviously not the same love I have for my closest friends. Love here means genuinely wanting the good and the well-being of the other person. I hate the evil; I denounce murder, bodily violence, sexual abuse, exploitation and manipulation, but I am deeply concerned for the conversion and the healing of the perpetrator.
We have no real right to sit in judgment on others. (And yet, how often do we do that every day with a cup of coffee in our hand?) Jesus says:
Forgive, and you will be forgiven…
Can I forgive the murderer, the rapist, the abuser? But forgiveness in the Gospel is not just saying, “Forget it; let it pass; it’s no big deal.”
Forgiveness in the Gospel always implies reconciliation as well. It involves bringing people together again and the healing of wounds, but not the destruction of the wrongdoer. That is something very different. It can take time and a lot of effort, and a lot of real concern for people.
Loving one’s enemies is not being soppy about them. It is not about peace at any price, not a question of projecting a gentle, loving image, but a passion to restore justice, dignity and right relationships between people. How many wars, how many millions of deaths could have been avoided if we had followed this path? Like Jesus, there has to be a readiness to suffer and perhaps to lose much materially and socially.
Active non-violence involves campaigning, sticking one’s neck out and speaking out against injustice. At the same time, it always entails “speaking the truth in love” and seeking to heal, to save, to make whole, but never to hurt or destroy.
Jesus is not offering us an option today, but the only way that makes sense, the only way that is truly human. Jesus himself is our model. As he hangs naked, stripped of all dignity, the victim of unspeakable violence, this moment, contrary to all appearance, is the moment of his triumph—the triumph of love over hate, violence and murder. It is a message our violence-ridden cultures desperately need to hear and to learn.
BooCommentary on Sirach 27:5-8; 1 Corinthians 15:54-58; Luke 6:39-45
Today we have the continuation of Luke’s Sermon on the Plain (not the Mount). Last Sunday’s Gospel told us not to judge or we would be judged ourselves. Does this mean that we are never to criticise other people? ‘Criticise’ comes from Greek, krino, meaning “to make a rational judgment”. So we speak of a film or drama ‘critic’ who may indeed tear a production to pieces or, on the other hand, may praise it to the skies, give it five stars and ‘two thumbs up’.
What is being forbidden by Jesus is not judgment as such, but negative, destructive judgment. There are times when we are expected to give constructive, helpful criticism.
We are often free with the first and slow with the second (e.g. by giving the excuse that we are not qualified). We cannot pass judgment unless we have some vision and understanding. Jesus asks us:
Can a blind person guide a blind person?
How can the blind, those without understanding, presume to give leadership to others who are blind? The result is inevitable:
Will not both fall into a pit?
In life, it is not at all unusual to hear people talk with great authority on things of which they know very little, e.g. complex policies and problems. People who never open a Bible, seldom go to church, are not involved in its activities or not even Christians, frequently have no hesitation in saying what is wrong with the Church. This does not mean that the Church has no faults. Nor does it mean that the Church’s weaknesses should not be highlighted. It does mean that one should speak from genuine knowledge and accurate data and to the people who can do something about it. The same applies to everything else we like to pass judgment on.
Following Jesus’ example
Jesus says:
A disciple is not above the teacher…
This is to say that our judgements should be like those of Jesus. But he also says:
…every disciple who is fully qualified will be like the teacher.
He “will be like the teacher” in judging to save and help, not to knock down and destroy. If we are to avoid blindness we need to walk in the footsteps of people who can see. We need to acknowledge our own blindness, our blind spots, our myopia, our astigmatism of prejudice and lack of objectivity.
It is not much use prefacing some solemn judgement on the Church, for instance, with “When I was in grade school, I was always taught by Sister Imelda that…” What we learnt in grade school or high school is likely not enough so many years later when the Church itself has changed in so many ways and we ourselves have changed. But most of us tend to be both perspicacious and blind—we can see the slightest fault in others while being totally oblivious to much greater faults in ourselves.
Some of us spend large parts of our lunch breaks and recreation times gossiping. This consists mainly of saying what is wrong with other people (present company excepted—until present company goes away). Do we ever feel slightly nervous leaving a party or a group that has been involved in extensive gossiping about peers or colleagues? As soon as we walk out the door they may start saying the same things about me that I was saying about other absent people. On the other hand, if a subject of criticism walks into the room, he or she is likely to be greeted like a long-lost friend, as if they were the most wonderful people in the world.
Why do we do so much of this kind of thing? Do we really enjoy it? Do we feel good about it afterwards? Do we believe that if only other people changed—the boss, some colleagues, parents, children—life would be wonderful?
Pre-emptive strikes
In fact, I think much of our criticism is a form of self-defence, a kind of pre-emptive strike. We feel inadequate and insecure and try to even things out by pulling down people we feel are better than us. No wonder Jesus calls us ‘hypocrites’. This word, from the Greek hypocrites, was used to refer to a stage actor. When I go on like this I am playing a role in which I am the tragic, misunderstood hero or heroine, and the rest are out to get me. It is usually quite a false and misleading picture of the reality.
The Greek actor wore a mask to indicate the role he was playing (in ancient Greece, all the actors were male). We spend a lot of time wearing masks to hide from others the real self of whom we are secretly ashamed. By supposedly ‘exposing’ the weaknesses and wickedness of others, we give our fragile egos a boost.
But Jesus says that everything depends on the inner person and not on the outward appearance. Hypocrisy will not long go undetected. No really good tree can produce bad fruit; and no really bad tree can consistently produce genuinely good fruit.
“The kiln tests the potter’s vessels”, says today’s First Reading. Once we open our mouth we reveal ourselves. We are told:
Do not praise anyone before he speaks,
for this is the way people are tested.
When we gossip, we often tell people a lot more about ourselves than those we are condemning.
Place for criticism
It is important to emphasise that the Gospel is in no way saying we should not have opinions or that we should not express them. But it is saying the following:
Let me change
The real solution is for me to change—to behave proactively rather than just have a knee-jerk reaction every time something touches a sensitive nerve in me. Let me be in charge of my own life and stop trying to change others. As Fr Tony de Mello used to say, “When I change, my whole world changes”. And not only that, when I change, other people are likely to change, but even if they do not, my attitude towards them will not be the same. We have to make our own bed; we don’t wait for others to do so. To again quote Fr de Mello, “Attitude is everything”—my attitude, that is.
I can learn to be totally accepting of reality, and of the way people are. I can refuse to be intimidated or irritated or resentful. I can take off my actor’s mask and be fully myself. In the process I can let other people too be themselves. I am no longer worried about planks in my own eyes or in others’—what you see is what there is.
I judge myself by the standards of Jesus: a good tree bears good fruit. And the words describing the fruits of a good tree are full of warmth, affirmation, encouragement and compassion with now and again some positive, constructive confrontation and challenging. This is because:
…it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.
This sounds like a much better recipe than a life spent in never-ending griping and sniping.
BooCommentary on Hosea 2:16-17,21-22; 2 Corinthians 3:1-6; Mark 2:18-22 Read Sunday of Week 8 of Ordinary Time (Year B) »
BooCommentary on Sirach 15:16-21; 1 Corinthians 2:6-10; Matthew 5:17-37
The first Christians were all Jews. In the beginning, they continued to observe many of their traditional customs, e.g. about circumcision, about clean and unclean food. As well, they went to the Temple in Jerusalem to pray. But very soon, non-Jews (Gentiles) also became Christians, and these did not have to observe some of the traditions of the Jews. But the Jewish Christians felt uncomfortable about this. When they became Christians, did they have to abandon traditions, which were so much part of both their religious and social life? It became a very serious issue in the Apostolic Church.
Matthew’s Gospel, from which today’s passage comes, was written primarily for Jewish Christians and today’s reading—and indeed the whole of this Gospel—can be seen as words of encouragement for them. Throughout his Gospel, Matthew constantly uses the Old Testament to show that the life of Jesus is not a breakaway from past Jewish traditions, but that it is a continuation of all that was foretold by the prophecies of the Hebrew Testament. The life and teaching of Jesus is not to be seen as a new religion; Jesus’ life is the natural development of the story of salvation. And Jesus is the climax of that story, because Jesus is the Messiah king and saviour for whom the Jews had been waiting for such a long time (in that sense, our Bible—Old and New Testaments—is really only one book).
The Law and Jesus
So in today’s Gospel Matthew emphasises the relationship between Jewish Law and the teaching of Jesus. Matthew reassures his readers that Jesus has not come to abolish the Law and the prophets, but to bring them to completion. So, in a sense, the Law still has force.
…until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.
On the other hand, there is much in Jesus’ teaching that is completely new. He did not abolish the Law, but he introduced a completely new way of thinking. He did not abolish or change the Law, but went far beyond its literal requirements. For Jesus, just to keep the Law externally is not enough. To be a disciple of Christ, the foundation of our lives must go deeper—to a mutual love. To keep the Law without love is like having a body without a soul. Literally, to keep the Law of God and of the Church is not the same as being a good disciple of Jesus. Jesus says today:
…unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees [who were perfect observers of the letter of the Law], you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
The Scribes and the Pharisees kept the Law and the Commandments very carefully. But Jesus would say that, though they observed the external requirements of the Law, they did not have the spirit which is the foundation of the Law: to love God and to love the neighbour as oneself. Clearly, this teaching would have made much more impact on a Jewish audience but, even in our Christian lives, it is possible for people to have a very mechanical notion of what is good behaviour. This is revealed often in the way we “go to confession”.
Six examples
To help us understand his meaning Jesus gives six striking examples, and in today’s Gospel, we have four of them. In these four examples, Jesus helps us to understand that, to be one of his disciples, it is not enough simply to keep what the Law tells us to do. We do not keep the Law through our behaviour, but through our basic attitudes, our basic values.
When the Pharisees kept the Law, they wanted to obey God, but very often they neglected the needs of others. It was their own ‘perfection’ they were mainly concerned about (just as we can be exclusively concerned about being in a ‘state of grace’). Even now, some people in confession are sorry because their sins offend God or are instances of personal failure, but often they show little awareness of how their sins hurt other people.
For Jesus, we cannot separate our relationship with God and our relationship with people. If we cannot find God in our brothers and sisters, we cannot say that we really love God. Or in the words of the First Letter of John:
We know that we have passed from death to life because we love the brothers and sisters…All who hate a brother or sister are murderers, and you know that murderers do not have eternal life abiding in them. (1 John 3:14-15)
Do not kill
The first example from the Law that Jesus gives is, “You shall not murder”. But Jesus says we must not even get angry or use insulting words with others. What Jesus is saying is that we must deeply respect the dignity and rights of every person, a person who is unconditionally loved by God and for whom Jesus will sacrifice his life. And if we do not respect our brothers and sisters deep within our heart, we cannot say we respect God. So if I am going to the Temple to pray (a religious act of worship) and I remember I have offended someone, I should go and reconcile with my brother first, and only then make my offering in the Temple. Otherwise, my prayers and offering are of no real value.
Life and worship cannot be separated—each influences the other. Yet, how often do we piously go to Mass when we have deeply hurt another person and need to reconcile with him or her? We cannot say we love Jesus if we are hurting others.
That is the meaning of the sign of peace which we share with others before sharing in the Eucharist at Communion. And, where possible, it would be great to make a point of giving the sign of peace sincerely to a person with whom we have a problem, a person we may criticise or dislike, or someone who is a foreigner or a complete stranger. If we cannot do this, we should question the genuineness and integrity of our communion.
Do not commit adultery
Adultery occurs when there are sexual relations between two people, of whom at least one is already married. In Jewish Law there were very serious penalties for this. We remember the woman who was brought to Jesus to be stoned to death, because that was what the Law demanded. Jesus, however, says you can even commit adultery in your thoughts (and nobody knows about it—except you).
Again Jesus is saying that, apart from our external actions, our basic attitude is paramount. We cannot just use another person as an object to give us pleasure. We cannot use another person like a toy. When that happens both are degraded. Real love is completely different. Real respect is completely different. And adultery is wrong not so much because it is a sexual act outside marriage, but because it is an act of serious injustice to the innocent married partner and seriously injures the marriage relationship. It is a serious breach of trust and fidelity.
No divorce
The Gospel tells us that the Law also says:
It was also said, ‘Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.’
In Jesus’ time, it was relatively easy to divorce. If a husband became sexually attracted to another woman, he could just make an official declaration that he was divorcing his wife. It could be for very trivial reasons. She could do nothing—she had no say in the matter.
It was legal, but according to Jesus, it was against the dignity and the rights of the wife. It was legal, but it was both selfish and unjust. It was legal, but also immoral. For Jesus, it is not enough for something to be legal. It must also be good. It must also be an expression of love and justice. That is something we need to remember. Immoral acts are not less immoral simply because they do not happen to be against the law, or because I am no longer a practising Catholic.
It would seem that Jesus is dealing here with divorce for selfish reasons. In our time, divorce is often the result of a marriage having irretrievably broken down. In Jesus’ time, love or happiness had very little to do with marriage. It was governed by the laws and by tradition, and was seen primarily as the bringing together of two families with the purpose of producing heirs.
The matter is more complex in our own time and we have also to distinguish between obtaining a civil divorce (which Catholics can do) and having a second sacramental marriage (which, under the present legislation, Catholics may not do). And there are other issues involved in the question of divorce, but they can be dealt with more fully when we deal with the question later (Sunday of Week 27 in Year B).
No false swearing
Jesus also says:
Do not swear at all… Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’.
It was common in Jesus’ time for people to guarantee the truth of what they said by making a solemn oath before God. Jesus’ point is that a good Christian does not have to swear at all, because a true Christian is a reliable and totally honest person. He or she is a person of integrity. Such people can be trusted when they speak. They don’t have to give external guarantees. Their ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ means exactly what is said and there are no mental reservations. It is a pleasure to meet people like that, who are totally transparent and have nothing to hide.
Catholics and the law
There are not a few Catholics who feel that if they just keep the Commandments they are good Catholics. They often like to ask, “Is this a sin?”, meaning, is it against the law? Is it a mortal sin or is it a venial sin? If it is ‘only’ a venial sin, then I can do it.
But true Christians do not ask whether something is legal or illegal. They love God, they love Jesus, they love their brothers and sisters. Their only concern is how they can serve and love them more and more. They want to work with Jesus and with his brothers and sisters to build the Kingdom of God. No matter how much they do, they know they can still love more and do more and be more.
It is not then a question of law; it is not a question of what I have to do. It is a question of how much more I can do, how much more I want to do. The requirements of the law are way behind.
BooCommentary on Isaiah 58:7-10; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5; Matthew 5:13-16
Today’s Gospel immediately follows the Beatitudes. And the readings are saying that the Beatitudes must not only be lived, but seen to be lived. The Gospel reminds us that it is essential for the Christian disciple both to be seen and heard. Christianity is not a private religion. I am not just a Christian for me only. Christianity is a vision which is meant to change the world, and there is no doubt that, to a great extent, it has.
Several images
Jesus uses a string of images to express this: He wants his disciples to be the salt of the earth. Salt is a basic and essential item in our diet, but it had a particular value in ancient culture. It is a purifier, a seasoning and a preservative. This was especially the case in the days before refrigeration. Today we tend to take in too much salt and are warned about doing so. But in older times, it was a precious and often expensive commodity, and because of its value, it was often a favourite item of taxation.
What Jesus emphasises is its distinctive taste. We often judge food by saying it has too little or too much salt. Christians then, by their gospel-centred lives, are to give a distinctive ‘taste’ to society. Those who really have the spirit of the Beatitudes (including non-Christians) will permeate the world, renew it, and slow down its social and moral decay.
But salt only produces its effect when it is totally merged with the food. It is indistinguishable from the rest of the food, but its presence or absence is very obvious. The Christian, too, can only be truly effective when he or she is fully a member of society, and at the same time, gives an unmistakable taste to that society.
There have been times when Christians felt that they should keep away from the ‘world’. Monks and nuns, who were among the most committed Christians, built large walls around their property to keep the ‘world’ out—although they clearly did have a visibility of their own, especially in an all-Christian society. Their very separation from the rest of society and the lives they led were meant to be a challenge. It is possible that in a secular and pluralist society, such witness may give a very different message and be less effective.
In our Western society, we often put salt on the side of the plate. This is like the Christian who does have taste, but who lives on the fringes of society and makes no impact on it. This can happen very easily when, for instance, we have a parish which is only concerned with its own spiritual well-being and makes no effort to reach out. There are many parts of our society, especially the commercial, industrial and entertainment areas where the Church is often totally absent. The other extreme is when a Christian is totally immersed in secular society, but has nothing to give. This is like the tasteless salt which is good for nothing.
“You are the light of the world”
Jesus said of himself:
I am the light of the world. (John 8:12)
In today’s Gospel, we are then called to be and to do what Jesus did for the world. The Gospel message is to shine out through our words and actions. Some people will not like that light, preferring darkness, and may try to put it out. But Jesus dealt with that in the last Beatitude where he speaks of persecution for the sake of the gospel.
Jesus uses two more images to emphasise the essential visibility of the Christian. He speaks of a city built on top of a hill. It sticks out like a sore thumb; there is no way to hide it. And he speaks of a lamp on a lamp stand. What is the point in lighting a lamp, then covering it up? What is the point in getting baptised, joining the Christian community and then becoming completely invisible to others, especially to those who are not Christians? For instance, how many of my neighbours know that I am a believing and practising Christian? How many of my colleagues at work know? How many of my socialising friends?
What should be seen?
And what does Jesus want people to see? Packed congregations? Magnificent churches which are architectural masterpieces? Thousands on their knees praying? People doing severe penitential exercises? Planeloads of pilgrims going to places of devotion, like Rome, the Holy Land, Lourdes, Fatima and Medjugorje? What does he want people to see?
All these things are undoubtedly good, but nothing like this is mentioned in today’s readings. What kind of religious observation does God want to see? To answer that question let us listen to the First Reading from Isaiah:
…to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke…
This is Christianity? This is religion? But it is so political! And Isaiah is not finished yet, and he asks another clearly rhetorical question:
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
It is then, and only then, that we will truly be the salt of the earth:
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly…
Then you will find God.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, “Here I am”…
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
Show off your good works!
Let the light that is in us, then, shine brightly. And why is this? Is it so that people will see our good works and say how wonderful Catholics we are? No! There is only one reason for us to be salt and light for others—so people may be drawn to God as their Lord. Our only aim in living out the gospel with maximum visibility is to point people in the direction of the God who loves them and in whom is their ultimate happiness. Our aim is to urge people to work together for the kind of world that God wants us to have.
To do all this we do not need elaborate training, or a postgraduate degree. It is within reach of the most simple, even illiterate, person. It is not a question of passing on knowledge, but of sharing our experience of a loving God.
So Paul says today in the Second Reading:
When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come…with superior speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified….I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. My speech and my proclamation were made not with persuasive words of wisdom but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.
Paul tells us elsewhere that he begged God to remove from him a serious disability which he felt prevented him from preaching the gospel effectively. Three times he begged God to take this thing away. And, he says, God answered his prayer, not by taking it away, but by helping Paul to realise that it was precisely in his weakness and through his weakness that God’s power became most obvious in him (see 1 Cor 12:7-10).
So our lack of talent or influence or education can never be excuses for not sharing our experience of Christ and of working with others to establish the Kingdom among us. We saw that in a person like St Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa), who exerted such a powerful influence by the utter simplicity of her life. Wearing her simple white sari and her old leather sandals, she could visit the destitute and dying in the slum of an inner city and the next day be socialising with the rich and powerful wearing exactly the same clothes. That is what being the salt of the earth means.
BooCommentary on Zephaniah 2:3, 3:12-13; 1 Corinthians 1:26-31; Matthew 5:1-12
Today we begin the Sermon on the Mount. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is presented as the new Moses. He presents five long discourses by Jesus, which can be seen to match the Pentateuch (the five first books of the Bible), traditionally attributed to Moses as their author and which embody the Jewish Law. Just as the Pentateuch embodies the Jewish way of life, so these discourses embody Jesus’ vision of the life he proposes for us.
The Sermon on Mount is the first of these five discourses. It is not a tape recording or a verbatim record of an actual sermon or address. Rather, it is a collection of sayings and teachings focusing on the personal qualities expected of a disciple of Jesus.
It is given on a mountain. Mountains are traditionally seen as holy places where God is specially present, and there are several instances in both the Hebrew and Christian Testaments where mountains feature in a significant way. Apart from today’s example, we have, to give just two examples, Mount Sinai where God gave the Law to Moses, and the mountain of the Transfiguration where something of Jesus’ inner reality was revealed to three chosen disciples.
Jesus sat down, a position of authority, e.g. when the Pope speaks officially, he does so ex cathedra, sitting on his chair or throne. Jesus’ audience consists of the Twelve, his other disciples and all those who wish to hear what he says.
The core of Christian living
Just as the Ten Commandments are the core of the Jewish way of life and a law to follow, so the Beatitudes are the core of the Christian way of life. Yet, they are often not understood as such. In many ways, they are largely ignored as guides to Christian living, and many Christians still regard the Ten Commandments as their life guide. As a priest, I have yet to hear anyone refer to the Beatitudes in making their ‘confession’!
However, there are major differences between the Commandments and the Beatitudes. In a literal sense at least, the Commandments are fairly easy to keep. And what is very significant as far as the Gospel is concerned, they can be observed without love. They can be kept in a very selfish, self-centred way. This was perhaps the problem of the rich man who said he kept the Commandments since he was young, but could not bring himself to share his wealth with the poor. This was surely a failure in love for the neighbour—and so he could not become a disciple of Jesus.
In the society where Jesus grew up, a good person was understood as one who kept the Law perfectly. In fact, many of the Commandments can be kept by not doing anything at all, e.g. not stealing, not being violent, not doing unlawful sexual acts and not talking about other people. A highly introverted, narrow-minded Puritan might very well be observing the Commandments to the letter. And this was where the conflict arose between Jesus and the scribes and Pharisees.
Strictly speaking, the Beatitudes are not commandments. They are not so much things to be done, or rules to be kept, as deep-down attitudes of the mind. And, in fact, their observance is only possible with a deep love of God and of other people. They can never be kept fully—they are goals that are always calling us further. They never leave any room for complacency. One can never say about the Beatitudes what the rich man said to Jesus, namely, that he had kept all the commandments since he was young.
Sources of true happiness
Each Beatitude begins with the word “Blessed”. ‘Blessed’ is a translation of the Greek makarios, and the Latin, felix. The meaning of these words is a combination of happiness and good fortune. So we could translate either with “Happy are those…” or “Fortunate are those…” As well, ‘Blessed’ used in this same sense is also a good rendering.
The Beatitudes must be understood in the context of the Kingdom. The Kingdom, as discussed previously, is not a place. It is that complex of relationships that exists between God and those who have totally accepted him as the Lord and guide of their lives, and who share God’s vision of what life is about.
So, in the Kingdom it is not the rich, the successful and the powerful who are really happy and fortunate, but the meek and lowly. Clearly that is not the conventional way of thinking for many in our world. And that is why to enter the Kingdom requires metanoia, a radical change in the way we see life and its values.
This point is made forcefully by Paul in today’s Second Reading:
God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.
It is also made in the First Reading:
Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land, who do his commands; seek righteousness, seek humility… For I will leave in the midst of you a people humble and lowly… They shall do no wrong and utter no lies, nor shall a deceitful tongue be found in their mouths.
Eight paths to happiness
Right at the beginning of Jesus’ teaching he throws down a challenge to conventional thinking. Let us now take a brief look at each one of these ways of being blessedly happy.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.
The poor in the Bible are not just the materially destitute, but all those who in their need turn to God. Poor in spirit are those who clearly acknowledge that they depend totally on God. With such an attitude, one has already entered the Reign of God. One acknowledges clearly that one is not self-sufficient, that one’s life always hangs by a thread and can be snuffed out at any moment. In our daily lives we are dependent on a huge number of people who provide for our needs. It is the loving power of God, accepted and experienced, that helps us to see just how dependent, how powerless in every respect we really are.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Here we think not just of those grieving a death, but those also who feel a deep sorrow for the evils and injustices of this world. They mourn not just for their own pain, but are in solidarity with all those who are the victims of “man’s inhumanity to man”. They face this pain with others and do not run away from it in hedonistic, escapist enjoyment. They realise that often the only way to cope with pain is not to go round it, but to go through it. Such people will, in turn, experience comfort and a certain inner peace. They can discern the loving presence of God even in situations that seem so negative and painful.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
The Greek word here for “meek” is praus, a word only found in Matthew, and then just three times. It is normally translated as ‘gentle and kindly’. It is the very opposite of arrogance, bullying and violent manipulation. It embodies deep respect and tenderness towards all. It learns to find and radiate goodness everywhere. It is not to be identified with wimpishness, weakness or cowardice. The truly gentle person, the one who can remain gentle and respectful of the other’s dignity in the face of provocative violence, is a very strong person. It is not an attitude we normally see in the heroes of action movies, who are more likely to deal with hostility by visiting violence on their foes. There is a fullness of life for the gentle that the arrogant and violent and manipulative can never know. And the world is theirs in a way that is never possible for the merely rich.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
For those who live in an area of abundant water and food, hunger and thirst are rarely experienced as the poor inhabitants of the desert lands often experienced in Jesus’ time. The intense hunger that Jesus speaks about here is that people everywhere may receive what is due to them for a life of dignity and fulfilment. There are people in our society who only hunger and thirst to have the goods of this world for themselves, whatever impact this may have on others. But there are in our society others who have a hunger and thirst to dedicate their lives and energies to work for the restoration of true justice and peace in our societies. Such people belong to the Reign of God, for it is God’s will that that the hunger for justice be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
This is not just pity or sympathy, but a deep down compassion and empathy, a real entering into the pain that others are experiencing. Such people can be absolutely assured of God’s compassion for them. In another context, Jesus told his followers to imitate the mercy and compassion of God. This means we have to put aside all forms of judgmentalism and prejudice, not to mention hate and contempt for others. This is part of the command to love our enemies, those who hate and curse us. Our instinct is to pay such people in kind, but then we are no different from them. On the contrary, we need to pray that their bitter hearts may be softened, that they may be enabled to reach out in love to all without exception.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
This is not about sexual purity. It refers to the person who sees things with a totally unprejudiced eye, with no distortion whatever. They have 20-20 vision of everything and every person around them. They are able to see things and persons as they are. This is a very rare quality. They are the complete opposite of the self-centred bigot, the racist or the narrow-minded legalist. It is not surprising that such persons can see God, not in the sense of having visions, but in being able to discern God’s loving presence all around them. Such persons are truly blessed.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
These are those individuals who are active agents of unity and reconciliation wherever they are. The peace here is not simply an absence of hostilities—an uneasy truce—but a genuine healing and bringing together. We can be peacemakers in our families and homes, in our schools and workplaces, between churches, and in all the areas of our society where there is conflict. Peace is inextricably linked with justice; there cannot be peace where there is prejudice, discrimination or exploitation. It would be difficult to find a nicer thing to say of anyone than that he or she was a peacemaker. No wonder such people are called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
How can people suffering persecution be called blessed? Because of the reason why they suffer—they do it for the gospel, for the sake of justice and goodness. To suffer for bringing truth and justice into the world has a consolation and joy all its own.
Historically, think of civil rights marchers in the 1960s, singing in the paddy wagons on their way to prison. Remember the many Christians who have lost their lives striving for justice in many countries. Our more recent times have allegedly produced more martyrs for faith and justice than any previous century. It is something for which we should be both proud and ashamed. But we pray that there will always be people who would be deeply unhappy if they did not remain true to a calling to justice and peace. We know the unease we feel when we compromise on truth or justice. There are some things which are bigger than us, and we will be more ready to give up everything for their sake and experience a special joy in doing so. As a young mother said to me once soon after having her first baby: “Now I know why a mother will gladly die for her child.”
A special relationship
The Beatitudes have a quality and depth which goes far beyond the moral requirements of the Ten Commandments. They call for a very special relationship with God and with the people around us. They involve not merely a personal observance of ethical rules, but a deep concern to be involved in the building up of the world we live in, helping to make it a place of truth, love, compassion, justice, freedom and peace. This is what the ‘Kingdom’ is all about. It is a completely different ball game. Am I ready for it?
Commentary on Isaiah 8:23 – 9:3; 1 Corinthians 1:10-13,17; Matthew 4:12-23
There are three distinct parts in today’s Gospel reading:
After the arrest of John the Baptist, Jesus moves up north to Galilee. It is his home province. It is where he will begin his public life.
John’s arrest
A note about John’s arrest—the verb in the original Greek is paradidomi, which literally means to “hand over”. This is a theme word, a refrain, which goes right through the Gospel:
And this ‘handing over’ has been happening to disciples ever since, down to our own day. Paradoxically, persecution can always be the expected result of living the gospel of truth and love.
At the consecration during every Eucharist, the celebrant says:
Take this all of you and eat it: this is my body which will be given up for you.
“Given up” is perhaps a less than ideal translation of the Latin tradetur which means “will be handed over” and is the Latin equivalent of the Greek verb paradidomi. So, in the Eucharist, the Body of Christ is also ‘handed over’ to us. And we, in turn, collectively as the Body of Christ in the Christian community, are expected to continue that handing over of ourselves in the service of the gospel and the promotion of the Kingdom.
Galilee
Matthew says that Jesus left his home town of Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum, a town in Galilee, which, he tells us, is on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, “in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali”. This reminds the evangelist of a prophecy from Isaiah, which Matthew now sees being fulfilled.
At this time, Galilee did not seem an obvious choice for the Messiah’s mission. It was regarded as a ‘remote’ province (“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”, Nathanael asked with some surprise and cynicism in John 1:46). It was a rebellious region where even Jews were not noted for their observance of the Law.
Yet the prophecy suggests that the Light of the World is to be found in Galilee. Galilee, of all places, is to be the light of the nations? Not for nothing do we speak of a ‘God of surprises’!
But it is precisely in this Galilean town of Capernaum that Jesus, the Messiah, begins his mission. His ‘preaching’ is summed up in one deceptively simple sentence:
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.
‘Preaching’ would be better translated ‘proclaiming’, making an announcement of Good News.
Good News
What is this ‘good news’? The Greek, eu-angelion, from which comes the Latin evangelium, is translated into modern English as “gospel”. This is a variant of the earlier ‘God-Spel’ or ‘good news’.
And what is this good news? The Good News is that the “kingdom of Heaven” is near. ‘Kingdom of Heaven’ can be a very misleading term. To many, it may be identified with ‘heaven’, the ‘place up there’ where we hope to go to after death…if we have behaved ourselves.
In fact, it is important to be aware that the term in this context has far less to do with a future life than with our life here in this world. The other Gospels speak more directly of the “kingdom of God” which, in fact, is what Matthew also means. However, Matthew’s Gospel was written for a Christian community consisting primarily of converted Jews. In their tradition, they were very reluctant ever to use the name of God directly, and so Matthew throughout his Gospel speaks of God in indirect ways. One way is to use the term “heaven”, or to use the passive voice of a verb. For example, Matthew writes:
…whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.
(Matt 16:19)
He does not say by whom they will be bound or loosed, but it is clearly understood to be by God.
Again, ‘kingdom’ for us suggests the territory ruled over by a king. The Greek word the evangelists use is basileia from the word basileus, which means a ‘king’. But basileia is better translated as ‘rule’, ‘reign’ or ‘kingship’. It indicates the power of being a king rather than the place over which one is king. To be ‘in the Kingdom’, then, is not to be in a particular place, either in this life or the next. Rather it is to be living one’s life—wherever we are—under the loving power of God. It is to be in a relationship of loving submission to one’s God and Lord and to be in an environment where values like truth, love, compassion, justice, freedom, commmunity, and peace all prevail.
Repent!
The way to enter that relationship is, in Jesus’ words, to “repent”. This is the response to Jesus’ call. ‘Repent’ usually means to be sorry for, to regret some wrong actions we have done in the past. Jesus, however, is asking for much more than that. It is a call, not to wipe out the past, which is really not possible, but for us to change direction from now on and into the future. The Greek word which is rendered by many translations as ‘repent’ is metanoia. This word implies a radical change in one’s thinking; it means looking at life in a completely new way, making what is now sometimes called a ‘paradigm shift’. This new way of seeing life is spelt out through the whole of the Christian Testament.
It is only when we begin to make this radical change that we begin to become part of that Kingdom, that we begin effectively to come under the influence of God’s power in our lives. We begin to see things the way God sees them, and our behaviour changes accordingly.
The call is not just to be sorry for past sins, and not to do them any more. There has to be a complete change of direction, a deep involvement in doing God’s work. That work involves working with others for an end to poverty and destitution, to hunger and joblessness, to communal and religious hatred, to rampant greed, ambition and shameless consumerism, and to create a world of love and care—the special attributes of God. The Kingdom has not yet arrived. There is still much to be done—right here where we live.
This is a message not just for Catholics or Christians, but for people everywhere. The Kingdom goes far beyond the boundaries of the Church, and the Kingdom is being realised in many ways in places where Christianity has yet to penetrate. A majority of the world’s population does not know the gospel of Jesus, but that does not mean that the values of the Kingdom are absent. We must learn not to see Christianity or Catholicism in sectarian terms—‘them’ and ‘us’. The message of Jesus is a vision of life for all humanity and should be communicated as such.
First partners
After his preaching, Jesus finds the first partners for his work. They are not Pharisees or scribes, not scholars or influential members of the community, but fishermen, who may have been quite illiterate in the sense that they could not read or write. However, they may well have been steeped in the oral tradition of their Jewish faith, knowing their Hebrew Testament much better than most of us know our New Testament!
It is significant that the call takes place right in their working place. The initiative for the call comes from Jesus. As John writes in his Gospel:
You did not choose me, but I chose you. (John 15:16)
For them it means a metanoia, a complete break in their lifestyle. There is a complete letting go.
And after this call:
Immediately they left their nets and followed him.
They put their total trust in Jesus, leaving behind their only means of livelihood, not knowing where it would all lead. Jesus himself had already taken this step in leaving Nazareth, his family and his livelihood as a carpenter. From now on their life would consist, not in worrying what they could get and keep, but in service to their brothers and sisters, especially those in greatest need.
At the same time, there is no evidence that they lived in destitution or want. Leaving the tools of the only way of life they had known was to choose to lead a simple lifestyle, i.e. only having those things necessary for their sustenance and their work, the new work Jesus was calling them to do.
Their security now came from the new lifestyle they were inaugurating, life in a mutually supporting community, where the needs of each one were taken care of. This, in effect, brought a life of greater material, emotional and social security than is found in our individualistic, competitive, rat-race style of survival.
One great family
They separated from their families, not because they did not love them, but because, as disciples of Jesus, they realised they belonged to a much larger family. They were learning not only to love their own, but to love especially all who were in need of love, care and compassion.
In the beginning, their first concern may be family members (early on, Jesus heals Peter’s mother-in-law), but later on they will give priority to those in greater need, non-family members, foreigners, total strangers, even enemies. To follow Jesus is to belong to a much bigger family.
In the Second Reading, too, Paul warns against divisions in the Christian family. It seems that the Christians in Corinth were dividing into factions and identifying themselves with various community leaders. Paul writes:
What I mean is that each of you says, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Apollos,” or “I belong to Cephas”…
It is clear that such divisions are harmful. All disciples can only be for one person, the One who suffered, died and rose for them, the One in whose name all of them were baptised—Jesus their Lord.
We have, unfortunately, many such divisions among Christians today—“I am a Catholic”, “I am an Anglican… a Lutheran… a Methodist… a Presbyterian…” The list, alas, is endless. This is not the kind of family that Jesus intended. Such a dysfunctional family is not in a good position to give effective witness to the Good News of truth and love and fellowship which Jesus prayed for at the Last Supper (John 17).
Today’s call is asking us not just to fit Jesus into our chosen way of living, but to fit ourselves into his vision of life. In doing so, we are not making a sacrifice. Rather, we are on to a sure winner where we can only gain.
BooCommentary on Isaiah 49:3,5-6; 1 Corinthians 1:1-3; John 1:29-34
Today we begin again the Sundays in the Ordinary Season, now of the Year A liturgy. On most Sundays in Year A, we will be following the Gospel of Matthew. However, today’s Gospel reading is from John.
Our readings speak about two things: the identity of Jesus, and the mission of Jesus. We need to know who Jesus is, if we want to be his disciples. We also need to know what his mission is, if we want to be good disciples. Because a good disciple is also an apostle. By definition, a disciple is a follower, whereas an apostle is the bearer of a message from a superior. The Christian disciple not only follows the gospel of Jesus, but also helps others to hear and accept it.
Who is Jesus?
Who is Jesus? We see him today, simultaneously in the role of Lord and Servant. Today’s Gospel speaks about Jesus being baptised by John the Baptist. As Jesus approaches, John announces to some of his own disciples:
Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!
Why is Jesus called by this strange title, the Lamb of God? It refers back to the origins of the great Jewish feast of the Passover. According to the tradition, God had been urging the Pharaoh to let God’s people leave Egypt. There had been a series of plagues, but each time Pharaoh reneged on his promise to let the people go. The final and most terrible plague involved the slaying of every firstborn child in Egypt.
In order that the Israelites might not be punished, they were told to smear the doorposts of their houses with the blood of a lamb. When God’s angel struck, he passed over the blood-painted houses of the Israelites, and their children were spared. They had, in effect, been saved by the blood of the lamb.
Pharaoh acknowledged defeat and finally said he would let the Israelites go (he would go back on his word once more, and with disastrous results). On the night before the Israelites left, under the leadership of Moses, they had a final meal which included the eating of a roast lamb (the same lamb whose blood had been painted on the doorposts of the house). The lamb then becomes the sign and symbol of the liberation of God’s people from slavery and oppression.
This great event of the Exodus, the ‘going out’, was and is commemorated in the Passover meal which Jesus celebrated with his disciples at the Last Supper, and that which is still celebrated by Jews worldwide. The Passover meal is now also being observed unofficially by many groups of Catholics and other Christians during Holy Week.
Jesus the eternal Lamb
But for us—and this is John the Baptist’s meaning—Jesus is the new Lamb which brings freedom and liberation from the oppression of evil and sin. He sacrifices himself to take away our sins.
Through his death he liberates us. It is no coincidence that Jesus’ sacrificial death took place at the Passover. He is the new Pasch—he is the Lamb who both sacrifices himself, and is sacrificed to liberate us. It is his blood poured out that is the sign of our salvation.
Jesus can do this because he is at the same time our Lord and our Servant. Because he is our Lord, he can take away our sins. Because he is a servant, he sacrifices his life for us. And he is not only our servant, he is our friend. As he told his disciples at the Last Supper:
No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:13)
And he insists that his disciples are his friends, not servants. Even more, Jesus is our Brother.
Jesus and John
John the Baptist also speaks of Jesus in the same way. He says:
After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.
We know that John and Jesus are related. And we know, from Luke’s Gospel, that John is older than Jesus by about six months, yet he says that Jesus ranks above him and existed before him.
John appears first, proclaiming the Kingdom of God. But Jesus precedes John in dignity and status. Because, before John was even conceived in his mother’s womb, Jesus, the Word of God, already existed.
So John says:
I myself did not know him…
How come he does not know his own cousin, although he makes clear statements about him? Why does he not know his cousin? Of course, he knows Jesus while at the same time he does not know him. For at first, he did not know the real identity of Jesus. Jesus is not only his younger relative. Jesus is his Lord and his God.
Son of God
When did John know? When, he says, he:
…saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him.
John goes on:
I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’
And then he makes his declaration of faith:
And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Chosen One.
Jesus is Lord and God. In this first chapter of his Gospel, John gives all of Jesus’ titles: Word, Son of the Father, Lamb of God, Son of God, Messiah [the Christ], Jesus of Nazareth, Son of Joseph, King of Israel, Son of Man.
And yet, this Jesus Lord is standing in the river water, together with many sinners. He is God, but he has come to serve us, to love us, to liberate us, to mingle with us, to be one of us. And he asks us to work with him in the same way—to be in the world and to serve the world, to serve all as brothers and sisters.
Jesus as servant
The First Reading also speaks of Jesus as servant:
You are my servant,
Israel, in whom I will be glorified.
The prophet says the Lord:
…formed me in the womb to be his servant…
And what is the work of this servant? His work is:
…to bring Jacob back to him,
and that Israel might be gathered to him…
In the Reading, it is Isaiah who is being spoken to by “the Lord”, but the words clearly are now applied to Jesus—and by implication also to us.
But it is not enough to bring just the Jews back to God:
It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel…
Much more, as Isaiah continues:
I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.
Jesus is the Light of the whole world. He wants every single person to experience his salvation. He wants every single person to enter the Kingdom of God. He wants every person to experience the truth, the love and the freedom of the gospel. The mission of Jesus is to bring all the people of the world back to God, their Creator, their Beginning and their End.
Our common mission
The mission of Jesus is also our mission. We cannot be good disciples of Jesus if we are not also good apostles. To be a good Christian necessarily entails being a good evangeliser. Our duty is not only to save our own souls and ‘go to heaven’. Our duty is also to share our faith with others, help them to know Jesus and his gospel, and to experience directly the love of God.
Where can we do this? In our homes and families, in our working places, in the area covered by our parish.
Let us pray that God will help us to work together with Jesus to establish his Kingdom in the whole world, and especially in that part of it where we live out our lives.
BooCommentary on 2 Samuel 5:1-3, Colossians 1:12-20 and Luke 23:35-43
Today, the last Sunday of the Church year, we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King. It is one of the most beautiful and meaningful feasts of the year.
The concept of king and kingdom is at the very heart of Jesus’ message to us. He came to inaugurate among us the Kingdom of God. By this we understand that complex of people and communities which have totally accepted and assimilated the vision of life under God which Jesus proclaimed. It is a vision, not only for a minority sect among the peoples of the world, but a call that is valid for all, a message which contains the deepest hopes and longings of peoples everywhere.
To take on board this message is to enter a life of fullness, of deep happiness and satisfaction. It is not necessarily a life without pain or suffering. In fact, pain and suffering may be integral to the very development of the Kingdom vision in our lives. It is a life which essentially involves other people, who on the one hand are agents of my personal growth, and who on the other, depend on me to be the agents of their growth.
Behind all this is the figure of Jesus Christ, our King. In himself, he embodies the whole vision of the Kingdom by the way he lived, spoke, worked, taught, healed, liberated, and finally sacrificed his life in love for us.
In today’s Scripture readings, we are given two extraordinarily contrasting images of our King. They are complementary and we cannot have one without the other.
In the reading from the Letter to the Colossians we have a description of the Son as emanating from the Father with all the power and dignity of God. The letter tells us that we have been:
…transferred…into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
We gain our freedom through his “forgiveness of our sins.”
To enter the Kingdom is to experience being brought from darkness into light and we gain our freedom through the forgiveness of our sins. To be free and to be in sin are mutually exclusive.
Who is this Son? Paul says:
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him.
And Paul says:
He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
In other words, before anything was created, the Son existed.
This is the special gift that the Son is for us. Through his taking on himself our human nature, we have been given access to the very being of God himself. We have access to the way God thinks, the way God loves. Being made in his image, we are called also to reflect in our lives the way God thinks and loves. And so the Son is called Pontifex (Latin, ‘bridge-builder’) and ‘Mediator’—for in his humanity as Jesus, he is the visible link between God and ourselves.
In the man Jesus, we have an intimate access to God, and yet God remains transcendent and, in many respects, unknowable and unattainable. In Jesus we see God as—to use Paul’s phrase:
…only a reflection, as in a mirror… (1 Cor 13:12)
When Jesus speaks and acts, it is both a man and God who speaks and acts, but the fullness of God cannot be accessed through the human body of Jesus. So it is that all the prayers of the Church go through Jesus to the Father. Jesus is the Way; the Father is the End, the Ultimate Goal.
But the letter goes further, for it says that:
He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything.
The body of the risen and glorified Jesus is not now a human body, but the whole Christian community taken together. It is now our calling and responsibility to be the mediating agent between God and the world. It is for us to proclaim the Kingdom both in word and in the way we live together, because:
By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:35)
Together with Jesus as the Head of our Body, we have a special mission to be pontifex and mediator between God and the world.
In the Gospel, we are transported to an altogether different scene, a scene that can scarcely be reconciled with the image of the Second Reading. Jesus, our King, is hanging nailed to a cross between two other executed criminals. On the sign above his head are the words:
This is the King of the Jews.
On each side are his two ‘courtiers’, a pair of murderous gangsters. Apart from the terrible physical pain he experiences, Jesus has been stripped of all dignity as he hangs there naked before a mocking world. This is the final ‘emptying’ (Greek, kenosis) described in the Letter to the Philippians (2:7). Is this truly, as described in the Second Reading:
…the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation…
Is this the same One through whom “thrones or dominions or rulers or powers” were brought into being? No wonder that Paul says the Cross of Jesus is a scandal:
…a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to gentiles… (1:Cor 1:23)
For our part, can we see and understand that this moment of utter degradation is in truth the most glorious moment in the life of Jesus? The moment when he gave the:
…uttermost proof of his love…
(John 13:1, Knox Bible translation)
Below the cross, the religious leaders, who engineered his execution, now mock the Teacher and Wonderworker who drew huge crowds, saying:
He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!
The soldiers, too, only knowing by hearsay that he claims to be a ‘king’, join in the jeering, as does one of the criminals beside him, who says:
Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!
But it is the other criminal who shows deeper insight. He fully acknowledges his own guilt, but sees that Jesus is totally innocent of any wrongdoing. And he turns to Jesus, addressing him with a strange intimacy:
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.
It is an acknowledgement of Jesus’ Kingship. Once again, Jesus sees not the stereotype nor even the vicious past of this man, but only the repentant individual before him here and now. That is enough, and he says:
Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.
What an extraordinary thing to say! There is no delay, no testing of the genuineness of the man’s repentance. Today with Jesus, he enters into eternal glory, into the very fullness of the Kingdom—even before any of Jesus’ other disciples, before his own Mother!
Here is the wonder of our King and what it means to be part of his Kingdom. It is beautifully described in the Preface to the Eucharistic Prayer in today’s Mass:
As King he claims dominion over all creation,
that he may present to you, his almighty Father,
an eternal and universal kingdom;
a kingdom of truth and life,
a kingdom of holiness and grace,
a kingdom of justice, love and peace.
Our King has been chosen for us by God, but it is for each one of us to profess our allegiance to him. We do this, not just by saying it in so many words, but by taking on board the fullness of his life and teaching which we find in the Gospels and in the rest of the New Testament. And as members of his Body, we too—in some strange way—share in that Kingship. Today we are called to work together to expand the reality of his Kingdom in our families, in our society and in the world generally.
Lord Jesus, your Kingdom come!
Boo