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Commentary on Matthew 20:1-16

Today we have another parable of the Kingdom. And it is not unrelated to the previous story of the rich man. At a first reading we might be strongly inclined to side with the grumblers in the parable. After all, it did not seem at all fair that those who only worked for one hour should get exactly the same as those who had worked from early in the morning and through the heat of the day.

Even though all had agreed to work for a stipulated amount, still in all fairness and decency, one feels that the early comers should have been given more, or the latecomers less. However, if we find ourselves agreeing with this, then it shows that our thoughts are human thoughts and not God’s. A little further reflection will make us feel grateful that God works like the employer in the vineyard.

The story seems, as often happens in the Gospel, to reflect the situation of the early Church. The first Christians were all Jews. Before their conversion they had been trying to live according to the requirements of their Jewish faith. They belonged to a people who had thousands of years of religious history; they were God’s own people. Then, Gentiles began to be admitted into the community. Some of these people probably came from totally pagan environments. They may have lived very immoral lives and yet, once accepted and baptised, they enjoyed all the privileges of the community. Somehow, it did not seem right.

But this is the justice of God which we need to learn. He gives his love—all of his love—to every person without exception who opens himself to it. It does not matter whether that happens early or late. One reason for that is because his love can never be earned, only accepted. And, as the previous story indicated, the genuine needs of all should be met. The fact that the latecomers were only employed at the last hour does not make their needs any less than those who came earlier. God’s justice is measured by our needs, not by mathematical divisions.

What each of the workers received was a symbol of the love of God, who is the vineyard owner. All—early arrivals and latecomers—got exactly the same, the love of their Master and Lord. There are not various degrees of that love. It is always 100 percent. God is Love; he cannot not love and he cannot not love totally. He cannot and will not give more of that love to one than another.

This is indeed something we should be grateful for. Because it can happen—perhaps it has already happened—that I move away from God and his love; I may move very far. But I know that at whatever time I turn back to him, even if it be the 11th hour, he is waiting with open arms. Thank heavens for the justice of God!

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Commentary on Judges 9:6-15

Today we have a rather unusual reading. Gideon is now gone and, true to form, the people have relapsed once more into idolatry. Our reading is taken from a section of Judges dealing with the reign of Abimelech as king.

The story of Abimelech does not really belong in this book. The only reason for his appearance is that he was the son of Gideon-Jerubbaal but he was not one of the judges, nor even a king of Israel. He is presented as a highly disreputable character. He was the son of a Shechemite woman and was made king by the Canaanites of Shechem as the result of intrigue and a show of force on his part. His only exploits were the massacre of his brothers, his struggles with the rebels of Shechem and his assault on the Israelite town of Thebez, which ended ignominiously in his death.

The narrative is undoubtedly historical and throws light on conditions of the period, the 14th century BC. Abimelech’s failure served the author-editor’s belief that there could be no other king in Israel but one chosen by Yahweh. That would not happen until the appointment of Saul. As with Rome at a later period, there was a strong anti-king feeling among the Israelites and it is reflected in today’s reading.

As the reading opens we are told that all the leading men of Shechem and all Beth-Millo met and proclaimed Abimelech king at the oak of the cultic stone at Shechem. Shechem, as we saw before, is in the very middle of Palestine, and at that time in the territory of Manasse. Beth-millo is probably the same as the Migdal-Shechem mentioned later in the story (but not in our reading). ‘Millo’ is derived from a Hebrew verb meaning ‘to fill’ and probably refers to the earthen fill used to erect a platform on which walls and other large structures were built. Beth Millo then may mean ‘stronghold’ (see Judg 9:46).

News of the proclamation was brought to Jotham, Abimelech’s youngest brother. He went and stood on the top of Mount Gerizim and shouted at the top of his voice. He was totally opposed to his brother becoming king and, after making his speech, he will take flight to be beyond Abimelech’s reach. Mount Gerizim will later be the mountain which, for the people of Samaria, will become the rival to the Temple in Jerusalem. It features in the dialogue which Jesus has with the Samaritan woman when she asks him which place is the right one in which to worship God (see John 4:19).

What follows is known as Jotham’s fable. It is the earliest example in the Bible of a fable using plants or animals to illustrate a human moral. Later examples include the fable that Nathan told to David to make him aware of his terrible combined sin of adultery and murder in connection with Bathsheba (2 Sam 12:1-4) or the fable of King Jehoash about a thistle proposing marriage to a Lebanon cedar (2 Kings 14:9). Ezekiel, too, uses a fable to speak of how Nebuchadnezzar deported King Jehoiachin and put Zedekiah on the throne instead.

As a literary form, it was found everywhere including Mesopotamia, Egypt and Greece. In Greece, one thinks of the fables of Aesop, part of the literary lore of children up to our own day. The one that is told here may have existed independently and was adapted by Jotham to express his evaluation of Abimelech.

Jotham’s fable betrays a mistrust of the monarchy such as we find in the period just before the choice of Saul as Israel’s first king (1 Sam 8). So here, olive, fig, and vine trees of value for man, refuse kingship as serving no useful purpose. They represent Gideon, who refused to be king or found a dynasty. The thornbush, fruitless and noxious, accepts it and represents Abimelech, a person entirely unsuited for the role.

The fable then follows:

The trees once went out to anoint a king over themselves.

As we mentioned, fables of this type, in which inanimate objects speak and act, were popular among Eastern peoples of that time – and indeed in our own, though now they may be more likely to take the form of a Disney cartoon.

The fable continues:

So they said to the olive tree, ‘Reign over us.’

But the olive tree declined and answered them:

Shall I stop producing my rich oil by which gods and mortals are honored and go to sway over the trees?

Oil was used in the worship both of the true God and of false gods; it was prescribed in the worship of Yahweh. It was also used to consecrate prophets, priests and kings. In speaking of Jesus as the ‘Christ’, we are speaking of an anointing with oil. Christos means ‘anointed’ and hence that he is a King. The Hebrew equivalent is Messiah. But in fact, Jesus was not anointed with oil but baptised with water by John the Baptist.

Back to the fable:

Then the trees said to the fig tree, ‘You come and reign over us.’

The fig tree replied:

Shall I stop producing my sweetness and my delicious fruit and go to sway over the trees?

Then the trees said to the vine,

You come and reign over us.

The vine also declined:

Shall I stop producing my wine that cheers gods and mortals and go to sway over the trees?

Wine was used in the libations both of the Temple of Jerusalem and of pagan temples. But it was also commonly believed that the gods participated in such human experiences as drinking wine (remember Bacchus as the god of wine).

All in all, the olive tree, the fig tree and the vine were all plants which produced fruit of great importance to the people of the Near East. All are mentioned frequently in the Scriptures, including Gospels.

Lastly, the trees approached the thorn bush:

So all the trees said to the bramble, ‘You come and reign over us.’

The bramble replied to the trees:

If in good faith you are anointing me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shade, but if not, let fire come out of the bramble and devour the cedars of Lebanon.

The cedars of Lebanon, the most valuable of all Near Eastern trees, is here symbolic of the leading men of Shechem who are being warned if they do not show their loyalty to Abimelech, whom they have made king.

The ‘bramble’ is probably the well-known buckthorn, a scraggly bush common in the hills of Palestine and a constant menace to farming there. It produced nothing of value and was an apt figure to represent Abimelech. In offering shade to the trees, the thornbush symbolised the traditional role of kings as protectors of their subjects, but there is an element of sarcasm in such a plant offering shade to other trees all much taller than itself. There seems to be an implication that the protection of kings, especially Abimelech, is no better than the thornbush.

Overall, the story reflects Israel’s distaste for monarchy at this time. It implies that the most valuable and productive people are not interested in being kings. Instead the role is taken by the utterly useless brambles (symbolic of Abimelech).

We too can sometimes avoid taking on responsibilities because we are reluctant to give up something we like doing. As a result, the task may have to be done by people who are incapable or unsuitable. On the other hand we may have ambition for some role for which we are not suited and which frustrates the use of the real gifts we have. Discernment is often needed to discover whether we are really in the place that God wants us to be or whether we are making good use of the talents he has given us.

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Commentary on Revelation 11:19,12:1-6,10; 1 Corinthians 15:20-26; Luke 1:39-56

Today’s feast celebrates the special place that Mary has in the life of the Church. This place is first of all defined by her being chosen to be the mother of Jesus, his only human parent. This alone gives her a uniqueness which is shared by no other person who has ever lived.

As with the case of Jesus’ resurrection, we need to look at the meaning of what the feast is about rather than being too literal in our understanding of how it is described. It is probably not helpful to try to imagine that, as soon as Mary’s dead body was laid in the grave, it immediately, as it were, escaped from its earthly darkness and floated up ‘body and soul’ into ‘heaven’.

By using the image “assumed body and soul into heaven”, what is really being said is that Mary, because of the dignity of her motherhood and her own personal submission to God’s will at every stage of her life, takes precedence over everyone else in the sharing of God’s glory—which is the destiny of all of us who die united with Christ her Son.

She remains, of course, fully a human being and thus lower in dignity than her Son and much closer to us. With us, but leading us, she stands in adoration of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. She cannot, even in glory, be given in any way the worship that is proper to the Persons of the Trinity. What she can do is to intercede for us in our needs, offering her human prayers on our behalf. This is something our non-Catholic Christian brothers and sisters do not always understand, and perhaps we Catholics have by our words and actions given a distorted idea of the place of Mary in our Christian living.

Mary’s role is well described in the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

“By her complete adherence to the Father’s will, to his Son’s redemptive work, and to every prompting of the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary is the Church’s model of faith and charity. Thus she is a ‘pre-eminent and…wholly unique member of the Church’; indeed, she is the ‘exemplary realisation’ (Latin:typus) of the Church.” (Section 967)

Today’s Gospel is the story of Mary’s visitation to her cousin, Elizabeth, when both were expecting their first child. The story contains most of the elements which contribute to the status we give to Mary in our Church.

First, we see Mary setting out with haste from Nazareth to a small town in the hills of Judea, not far from Jerusalem (where Zechariah served as a priest in the Temple). She went to visit her older cousin, Elizabeth, who was pregnant with the child we know as John the Baptist. Mary herself, of course, is carrying her own child, Jesus. It is highly significant that it is Mary and Jesus who go to visit Elizabeth and John. Already in the womb, Jesus is showing that urge to serve rather than be served. Mary, too, shares that urge. And, at the presence of Jesus and his mother, the child in Elizabeth’s womb jumps for joy.

Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, excitedly bursts out into praise. She recognises the special position of Mary and her Son:

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

Mary is indeed unique and blessed in being chosen to be the mother of our saving King and Lord. Elizabeth is deeply moved that it is Jesus and his Mother that come to her and John:

And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me?

And yet that is what is happening to each of us all the time, and especially in every celebration of the Eucharist, when the Lord comes to us in the sharing of his Word and in the breaking of the bread and our sharing in the cup.

And there is a special word of praise for Mary also:

Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

This brings us to the second characteristic of Mary—her faith and total trust in God. That was expressed in her fiat (“Let it be done to me…”), when, even though not fully understanding what was being asked of her, she unconditionally accepted to submit to God’s plan.

It is now Mary’s turn to sing God’s praises in the lovely song we call the Magnificat, which the Church sings at its evening prayer every day. It is full of reflections on what makes Mary great in the eyes of God:

He has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.

Mary was a simple unmarried girl living in obscurity in a small town in an out of the way Roman province. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Nathanael asked rather cynically when told where Jesus came from (John 1:46). But in the New Covenant, reflecting God’s own bias, it is the lowly and obscure who are specially favoured. Mary’s greatness does not come from her social status; that has no relevance whatever in God’s eyes, except in so far as those at the bottom of the social ladder tend to be denied a fair share of this world’s goods.

From now on all generations will call me blessed.

This is not a statement made in arrogance, but in humble thanksgiving and, of course, has been true since the day it was uttered. It was indeed an extraordinary grace to be chosen to be the mother of the world’s Saviour. Why Mary? we might ask; and Mary herself would be the first to agree. But she rejoices and is deeply grateful for being chosen for this privilege.

Her being chosen is simply another sign of God’s desire that the poor, the weak, the marginalized, the exploited and discriminated against in this world should be the special recipients of God’s love and care. Mary expresses this in the last part of her song:

He has shown strength with his arm;
He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.

The rich and powerful of Mary’s day: where are they now? Who were they? For the most part they have disappeared from history and memory, while the little girl of Nazareth is still celebrated round the world.

But Mary’s greatness does not stop at the graces and privileges which were showered on her. These, after all, were purely passive in the sense they were gifts given to her. In a telling scene in the Gospel, a woman who had been listening to Jesus suddenly cried out in a loud voice:

Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you! (Luke 11:27)

In our own language today we might say: “May God bless the mother who produced such a wonderful son as you!” And there is a deep truth here, namely, the influence that Mary (and Joseph, too) actually had in the formation of her Son. But Jesus immediately picked up the woman’s words and said:

No, blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it. (Luke 11:28)

In other words, it is not the graces that God gives us which make us great but the manner in which we receive and respond to them.

Mary’s greatness was not just in being chosen to be Jesus’ mother, but in her total acceptance of that responsibility in faith and trust—accepting blindly all that it might entail. And, indeed, she had no idea the price she would have to pay to be the mother of Jesus. But again, like her Son, she had emptied herself into total service to his Father and today we celebrate her reward, her being raised to the highest place among the human race.

This is indirectly expressed in the Second Reading from the First Letter to the Corinthians where Paul is speaking of the resurrection of Christ as crucial to the validity of our Christian faith. And Christ, the Son of God made flesh who died on the cross, is indeed the very first among the risen, seated at the right hand of his Father. He is, in Paul’s words, “the first fruits of those who have died” (1 Cor 15:20).

But further on Paul says:

…for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. But each in their own order. (1 Cor 15:22)

Jesus is first of all, but next in order surely comes his Mother.

The First Reading from the Book of Revelation has clearly been chosen as a symbolic description of Mary in glory. There is first a brief vision of God’s Temple in the New Jerusalem opening and revealing the Ark of the Covenant within. The original Ark, a chest made of acacia wood, contained the tablets of the Law and was kept in the Holy of Holies as the pledge of God’s promise—his covenant—to be with his people. But this is the Ark of the New Covenant, the permanent home of God among his people, the Risen Jesus in his Body, the Church. On today’s feast, the image is applied to Mary, who bore the maker of the New Covenant within herself. And so she is called in the Litany of Our Lady, “Ark of the Covenant”.

Next, there is a much longer description of the vision of a woman appearing from heaven. The woman is Israel, from whom was born the Messiah, and the community which believed in him. The description of the woman is often applied to Mary in statues and images:

Clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet…on her head a crown of twelve stars. (Rev 12:1)

The woman is described as being pregnant, crying out in birth pangs and in the agony of giving birth. This recalls the words of God to our first parents after the fall, of the pain that would accompany childbirth. But the child being born is the Messiah, seen both as an individual and leader of the new Israel. The mother who bears him is suffering from persecution and oppression.

There follows an apocalyptic description of a dragon threatening to devour the child as soon as it is born. The dragon (along with the serpent) was seen in Jewish tradition as representing the power of evil, the enemy both of God and his people. Its tail sweeping a third of the stars from the sky is an allusion to the fall of those angels who sided with Lucifer. Nevertheless, the child is born. He is a son, who will rule all the nations with a rod of iron. He is the promised Messiah. However, he is described as being immediately snatched away and taken up to God. This refers to the ascension and triumph of the Messiah which follows the dragon’s fall.

Meanwhile, the woman, the mother, flees into the wilderness, the traditional refuge for the persecuted. God has prepared a place there for her where she can be nourished for 1,260 days, which corresponds to the time of the persecution.

It must be first of all emphasised that the writer is not directly thinking of Mary here and clearly, not all of this passage can be directly applied to her. But Mary is the mother of Jesus, who in his Body is the continuation of God’s presence among us. Mary now stands, glorious and bejewelled, in the presence of her Son and his Father with the Spirit.

Today we join in her happiness. We look forward to the day when we too can share it with her. In the meantime, we ask her to remember us as we continue our journey on earth and to intercede for us with her Son, that we may remain faithful to our call as faithful disciples. May we know God’s will for us at all times and, like Mary, say our unconditional Yes to what he wants for us.

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Commentary on Matthew 19:23-30

After hearing the sad story of the rich young man who could not accept his invitation to be a disciple, Jesus gives some comments on the effects of wealth. Jesus says:

Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.

It could be that Jesus was referring to a narrow entrance in the city wall of Jerusalem called the ‘eye of the needle’. In either case, Jesus is indicating something which is extremely difficult, in fact, next to impossible.

Some of us may likely feel discomfort about this. Even if we are not rich ourselves, we might like to see our children get rich some day, or we admire people who have, by their hard work, become wealthy. What is wrong with having a lot of money which one has earned by the one’s own sweat and labour?

What does the Gospel mean by being rich? To be rich here means to have a large surplus of money and possessions while around one are people who do not have what they need to live a life of dignity. How can I continue to hold on to ‘my’ possessions when such a situation prevails? How can I claim to belong to the Kingdom, the reign of God, which is a kingdom of love and justice? Jesus said that “you” did not give me to eat or drink, you did not visit me or show any compassion when I was:

…hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison… (Matt 25:44)

Instead, you piled up all that money in the bank or on the stock exchange or you splurged it on fancy cars, restaurants and expensive clothes.

In the Gospel, to be rich means refusing to share what you have with those who have not. As long as you behave like that, you cannot be eligible for the Kingdom. It really is like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. There is a radical incompatibility.

The disciples were quite amazed at Jesus’ words. They were thinking along lines traditional to their culture and their religion. Wealth was a sign of God’s blessings—poverty and sickness a sign of his punishment. But Jesus is turning their traditions on their head.

It was something the young man could not understand either. He was under the impression that his wealth was a grace, a sign of God’s favour. The idea of giving alms was to be highly commended, but to share his wealth with the poor and create a more just playing field was something for which he felt no obligation and which made no sense.

Then Peter, the optimist, begins to see the bright side:

Look, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?

Jesus gives a twofold reply. As the leaders of the new community and people who have generously put their whole security in Jesus, his disciples will be especially rewarded. And indeed everyone who leaves family and goods for Jesus’ sake will be rewarded many times over with father, mother, brothers, sisters, goods. This is not just a pie-in-the-sky promise. It is one that can be realised and, in many parts of the world, is being realised. When everyone works for the good of the other, everyone benefits.

The wealth-is-good world believes that it is every man for himself. There is only a limited amount of the cake and it is up to each one to get as big a piece as he can—too bad about the losers.

In the world of Jesus, everyone gets because everyone gives; because everyone gives, everyone receives. It is not a ‘gimme’ world; it is a ‘reaching out to others’ world. And when everyone reaches out, everyone is benefiting. In such a world, I do not have to worry about a roof over my head, or about brothers and sisters, or property or security. It is where love and justice meet. For too many people in our world, there is neither love nor justice.

If the rich man had liberated himself from his wealth and shared it with the poor and become a follower of Jesus in the new community, he might never have been rich again but he would have had all his needs attended to.

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Commentary on Judges 6:11-24

We read today of the call of Gideon, one of the ‘major’ judges or leaders of the people. The story of Gideon is instructive of Israel’s condition at this time. The Hebrews had taken to agriculture and, like the other settled peoples, were threatened by nomads invading their territory to get food. To some extent they had adopted the worship of the Baalim, the local gods who guaranteed the annual yield of wheat and oil. Only a select few remained faithful to Yahweh.

The passage combines an account of the calling of Gideon and an account of the founding of a sanctuary, in the manner of those in Genesis, with a theophany (a divine appearance), a message of salvation and the inauguration of the cult.

At the beginning of this section, we are told that, because the Israelites had done evil in Yahweh’s eyes, they had been subjected to the power of the Midianites for seven years. The Midianites were a nomadic people living in north-western Sinai (remember that Moses’ wife came from this people). All efforts of the Israelites to support themselves by pasturing and farming were regularly pillaged by the Midianites. In their desperation, the Israelites cried out to God for help. And once again, God intervened on their behalf.

As our reading opens, we are told that the Angel of Yahweh (further on referred to simply as ‘Yahweh’) came and sat under the terebinth tree at Ophrah, which belonged to a man called Joash of Abiezer. The Abiezrites were from the tribe of Manasseh, one of the tribes descended from Joseph. The terebinth was a sacred tree and the location of the Ophrah mentioned here is not certain. The Angel of Yahweh evidently appeared in human shape, which led to Gideon’s exclamation at the end of the passage.

Joash’s son, Gideon, was threshing wheat inside a wine-press, in order to remain hidden from the Midianites who might otherwise attack and take away the crop. Normally, threshing would take place in the open so that the wind could blow away the chaff but Gideon felt more secure threshing in this better protected but very confined space.

The Angel then greets Gideon with the words:

The Lord is with you, you mighty warrior.

By addressing him this way it would seem that Gideon belonged to the upper class, perhaps a kind of aristocracy, in spite of his disclaimer a little later on. He was more than a simple farmer.

Gideon’s response to the Angel’s greeting is immediate and to the point:

But sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all his wonderful deeds that our ancestors recounted to us, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the Lord has cast us off and given us into the hand of Midian.

At this, Yahweh turns to him and, without challenging Gideon’s complaint, instead suggests Gideon himself do something about it. He gives Gideon a mission:

Go in this might of yours and deliver Israel from the hand of Midian; I hereby commission you.

Now, it is Yahweh who speaks and not just the ‘Angel of Yahweh’. We are dealing not just with a divine messenger but with an appearance of the Lord himself, a theophany. This is a commission to deliver Israel just as Moses had been sent.

Gideon does not feel up to the challenge

But sir, how can I deliver Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.

But as is the case so often, the Lord usually calls the lowly rather than the mighty to act for him (e.g. Jacob the younger chosen before Esau in Gen 25:23; Saul, the least in the tribe of Benjamin; David, the shepherd in the field; and, of course, Mary, the ‘nobody’ from Nazareth).

But Yahweh promises to be with Gideon:

But I will be with you, and you shall strike down the Midianites, every one of them.

Gideon then requests that, if he has found favour in Yahweh’s sight, he be given a sign to confirm that the words come from Yahweh himself. He asks Yahweh to stay where he is while Gideon goes off to bring back an offering. Gideon now realises that he is addressing someone very special. His request is similar to Moses asking for signs as assurance that Yahweh would be with him in his undertakings.

Yahweh then makes a promise:

I will stay until you return.

Gideon then goes off. He prepares a young goat and an ephah of flour to make unleavened cakes. He puts the meat in a basket and the soup in a pot and brings them to the terebinth tree. Yahweh then tells him to put the meat and the cakes on a rock and to pour the soup over them.

The offerings are carefully chosen – a kid, the most suitable sacrificial animal; a measure of flour; loaves unleavened, because otherwise ‘unclean’. All are placed on a rock, a primitive rite characteristic of peasants fresh from nomadic life.

Then (the Angel of) Yahweh touched the meat and the cakes with the staff he was carrying. Fire sprang from the rock and consumed the meat and cakes. The meal prepared by Gideon for the Angel of Yahweh – whether it has a sacrificial character or not – is turned into a burnt offering (holocaust) by the divine fire. There is a similar event, though more dramatically told, later on in Judges (13:15-20). The rock on which the offerings were placed becomes consecrated and Gideon builds an altar on it. The place becomes a sacred shrine.

Gideon then realises he has been speaking with the Angel of Yahweh and he exclaims:

Help me, Lord God! For I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.

But Yahweh assures him:

Peace be to you; do not fear; you shall not die.

The traditional belief was that no one could look on the face of God and live. The great exception was Moses.

Gideon then builds an altar to Yahweh in that place and calls it Yahweh-Peace. The author says that the altar still stands at Ophrah of Abiezer. But later, no one knew where it was.

As we read this story we may remind ourselves that God, too, is constantly calling us. Our lack of talent or education or ability will never be an excuse. We can trust, too, that he is always on our side and we do not need extraordinary signs of his presence, although things may happen which will surprise us. He is, after all, the “God of surprises”.

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Commentary on Matthew 19:16-22

We have here a story of a young man who did not have that simple trust of the child which Jesus spoke about in the immediately preceding passage (note that only Matthew describes him as ‘young’).

He was apparently a good man, an unusually good man. He asks Jesus what he needs to do in order to have eternal life. However, he seemed to be operating out of a legalistic mindset with the emphasis on external actions. For Jesus, what we are is more important than what we do. The man also asked about “eternal life”. In Matthew (and in Mark and Luke) ‘eternal life’ is really synonymous with ‘entering the Kingdom of Heaven [God]’ and ‘being saved’. It is to be totally taken up into God’s world and sharing God’s understanding of life.

Jesus asks him

Why do you ask me about what is good? There is one who is good.

This seems to be a way of telling the man that goodness is not something merely external. The real source of goodness is inside, although, of course, it will flow out to the exterior. Is it also a way of asking the man who he really thinks Jesus is?

In any case, Jesus tells the man:

If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.

As we have just said, to “enter into life” is equivalent to entering the Kingdom. And Jesus mentions just four of the commandments, all touching on relationships with other people. And he adds:

Also, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.

The man is not satisfied:

I have kept all these; what do I still lack?

Jesus tells him that if he wants to be perfect, he should sell off everything he has, give it to the poor and then become a disciple of Jesus.

Obviously, the man was not expecting this. He was very rich and, although he wanted to serve God, he was not prepared to separate himself from the security of his wealth. And he walked away from Jesus full of sadness. It is an example of Jesus’ words earlier on that we cannot at the same time serve God and wealth.

In this context, to be ‘rich’ is not just to have a lot of money. It is to have a lot more money than others and especially to have more money than one needs in a world where there are people who do not have enough for a life of dignity. And wealth is very relative: a person close to the poverty line in some western countries could be seen as very rich in a remote village elsewhere in the world.

So, as long as the man had to cling to his money, he could not—as he claimed—be loving his neighbour as his own self. Clearly he was not yet ready for an unconditional following of Jesus. He was not able to follow the example of Peter and Andrew and James and John, who left their boats, nets and family to go and put all their security with Jesus.

Before we think that this Gospel does not particularly concern us because we do not see ourselves as numbered among the rich, we should listen to what Jesus is really saying. He touched on the one thing that the man was not ready to give up – his money and all that it brought. But, if we are honest, we will admit that we all have some things we would be very slow to let go of. Things we would not like God to ask us to give up.

It might be a good exercise today for us to ask ourselves what would be the most difficult thing for us to give up if Jesus asked us to do so. It might be some thing we own like our house, or it might be a relationship, or our job, or our health. Whatever it is, could it be coming between us and our total following of Jesus? Do the things we own really own us? Why not ask for the strength to be ready, if called on, to give it up? Only then do we know that we are truly free and truly followers of Jesus.

One final point—this story has been used in the past as an example of someone’s getting a special ‘vocation’. According to this view, all are expected to keep the commandments, but only some are invited to follow a ‘counsel’, such as living a life of ‘poverty’, as members of religious institutes do. It would be quite wrong to see Jesus here suggesting two levels of living the Christian life. What is said here applies to every person who wants to follow Christ. All the baptised are called to the same level of service, although there are different ways of doing this.

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Commentary on Judges 2:11-19

Immediately after the book of Joshua comes the book of Judges, which we begin reading today. We will just have four readings from the book.

The story of the Judges proper is confined to the main body of the book (chaps 2-16). The term ‘judges’ (in Hebrew, shophetim) does not have our common meaning but indicates war leaders and deliverers of the people. They are very different in character and ability from each other, but what they do share is a divine calling to save their people.

Today’s reading sets the scene for the unfolding of the book. After the death of Joshua, the people – in spite of the solemn promises they made – gradually began to fall away from serving Yahweh and to follow the gods of the surrounding peoples. For their disloyalty they found themselves the victims of their enemies. Yahweh was no longer with them in their struggles.

This passage comes from some general reflections on the whole period of the ‘judges’. We are given the theme or paradigm which will be repeated in the case of each judge:

The cycle then begins all over again.

However, this theological understanding of history, based on the assumption that the judges succeeded one another in the chronological order given in the book, and that each acted for the whole nation (rather than their own tribe), hardly corresponds to historical fact. The book is a compilation of originally independent accounts of local heroes, to whom an arbitrary relationship in time has been given.

As the Book of Judges opens we are told that the generation that followed Joshua neither knew Yahweh nor the deeds that he had done for Israel. The Israelites were now doing what was evil in Yahweh’s eyes and serving the “Baals”. Baal means ‘lord’. Baal, the god worshipped by the Canaanites and Phoenicians, was variously known to them as the “son of Dagon” and the “son of El”. In Aram (Syria), he was called “Hadad” and in Babylonia, “Adad”. Believed to give fertility to the womb and life-giving rain to the soil, he is pictured as standing on a bull, a popular symbol of fertility and strength.

The storm cloud was Baal’s chariot, thunder his voice, and lightning his spear and arrows. The worship of Baal involved sacred prostitution and sometimes even child sacrifice. The stories of Elijah and Elisha, as well as many other Old Testament passages, directly or indirectly protest Baalism. Elijah bringing rain down and breaking a drought showed the superior power of Yahweh over Baal, who was supposed to be the god of rain.

The Israelites had deserted Yahweh, the God of their ancestors, who had brought them out of Egypt and followed other gods, those of the surrounding peoples. They bowed down before these gods; they provoked Yahweh; they deserted Yahweh to serve Baal and Astarte.

In the Bible the phrase ‘Baal and Astarte’ or, in the plural, ‘the Baals and Astartes’ is the common expression for the Canaanite divinities. Baal, ‘the Lord’, is the male god. Astarte was associated with the evening star and was the beautiful goddess of war and fertility. She was worshipped as Ishtar in Babylonia and as Athtart in Aram. To the Greeks she was Aphrodite, and to the Romans, Venus. Worship of the Astartes involved extremely lascivious practices.

Every time they indulged in this idolatrous behaviour, Yahweh’s anger would grow hot against Israel. He would hand them over to pillagers who would plunder them. They would be delivered into the hands of the enemies all around them and no longer able to resist them. Whenever they mounted an expedition, Yahweh’s hand would be there to foil them – as he had warned he would – and, as a result, they were in dire distress.

It was then that the Lord appointed ‘judges’ who would rescue them from the hands of their plunderers. There were 12 judges altogether: six major judges – Othniel, Ehud, Deborah, Gideon, Jephthah and Samson, and six minor ones – Shamgar, Tola, Jair, Ibzan, Elon and Abdon. Notice that one of the judges is a woman, Deborah.

But the Israelites would refuse to listen even to the judges. They preferred to prostitute themselves before other gods. They moved far from the path their ancestors had followed in obedience to Yahweh.

Idol worship was always seen as a form of prostitution. Since the Hebrew for ‘Baal’ (‘lord’) was also used by women to refer to their husbands, it is understandable that the metaphor of adultery was commonly used in connection with Israelite worship of Baal (see Hosea 2:2-3,16-17). Yahweh was the true spouse of Israel. The worship of Baal was a kind of adultery or prostitution.

When Yahweh appointed judges:

…the Lord was with the judge, and he delivered them from the hand of their enemies all the days of the judge, for the Lord would be moved to pity by their groaning because of those who persecuted and oppressed them.

The words ‘groan’ and ‘oppressor’ echoes the language of the bondage under the Pharaoh in Egypt.

But, once the judge was dead, the people fell back into even more corrupt ways than those who had gone before them. They gave themselves completely to other gods, served them, bowed down before them and totally abandoned the practices of their ancestors.

Although there were undoubtedly natural explanations for the people’s sufferings, the Scripture sees the hands of God in everything they experience. On their own or subject to false gods, they are lost and they experience great suffering. It is less a sign of God’s punishment, still less his vindictiveness, than the fact that to leave truth and goodness is to head for darkness and failure and pain.

Following the ways of God and Jesus is not just a question of obedience to a higher authority, it is to follow a way of life which is in total harmony with our deepest needs.

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Commentary on Wisdom 3:1-9 or 1 John 3:13-18; Psalm 115; John 15:12-16

Not surprisingly, the Gospel reading speaks of Jesus’ commandment to love. It comes from the long discourse that Jesus has with his disciples during the Last Supper, recorded for us by John.

This reading contains what we may regard as the core of Jesus’ teaching – the command that we love each other in the same way that Jesus loved us. This love is universal and unconditional and is a deep desire for the well being of every other person. It is to be at the heart of all our living.

And Jesus goes on to say that:

…no one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

Which, of course, is just what Jesus did for us. To love as he loves is to be ready to do exactly this. And who are our ‘friends’? They are those who have this love also.

Later in the passage Jesus says that we have been chosen by him to go out and bear fruit, fruit that will endure. Earlier, Jesus had said:

I AM the True Vine. (John 15:1)

His disciples are those who are branches taking life from the vine and bearing fruit, lasting fruit.

We can see how all of this applies so aptly to St Maximilian. Here is someone who was ready, unhesitatingly, to give his life for a brother, a stranger whom he did not really know. This is the love of which Jesus speaks. And, of course, it is an act that has not been forgotten. It bears fruit to this day and inspires us to imitate such great unselfishness and care for the brother and sister.

There is a choice of two First Readings. The first of these comes from the Book of Wisdom and speaks of good people who suffer. To the less wise, their deaths seem meaningless and pathetic.

In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died,
and their departure was thought to be a disaster
and their going from us to be their destruction,
but they are at peace.

What they suffered was small in comparison with what they achieved.

Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good, because God tested them and found them worthy of himself…

Again, these are words which well describe the sacrificial offering Maximilian gave of his life for the sake of Francis and his family.

In the alternative First Reading from the First Letter of John, we are told not to be surprised if we, because we are disciples of Jesus, are targets of hatred. In fact, because we love and care for our brothers and sisters, we are truly alive. It is those who are without this love who are dead. In fact, everyone who hates his brother or sister, is a murderer.

And how do we know what true love is? We look at Jesus and see how he laid down his life for every one of us. Similarly, then, says the writer, we must be prepared to surrender our lives in love for brothers and sisters.

All those in Auschwitz were, for one reason or another, objects of hatred by the Nazi regime which was determined to exterminate them. They included Maximilian and all those imprisoned with him. But he responded, not by returning that hatred, but by reaching out in love and in particular by his offering of his life for a fellow prisoner. It is actions like his which shine like stars in a world of utter barbarity.

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Commentary on Philippians 3:8-14; Psalm 15; Matthew 19:27-29

The Gospel reading comes from the end of the story about the rich man who approached Jesus and asked what he should do to gain eternal life. Jesus said he should keep the commandments. The man asked which ones he should keep. Jesus then listed a number of the Ten Commandments. Significantly, all those mentioned by Jesus refer to relations with other people; commandments relating to God are not mentioned.

The man said that he had been observing them all since he was young. He then asked if there was anything still lacking. Jesus then told him that, if he wanted to be perfect, he should sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor and then become a disciple of Jesus. On hearing this, the man became downcast “for he had many possessions”. The question one could ask is, did he have possessions or did the possessions have him?

The man had thought perfection consisted in observing certain legal requirements. But Jesus was pointing out that observance of law was not enough. There had to be love and compassion and sharing. His life needed more than keeping commandments; it had to be modelled on the life pattern of Jesus himself.

After this, Jesus then told his disciples how difficult it was for rich people to be part of God’s Kingdom, a Kingdom of truth, of love, of justice, of compassion, of sharing. Their very possessions in a world where there were so many in need was a negation of everything that Jesus, stood for. The disciples were quite shocked on hearing this because, in their book, wealth was something to be sought after and was indeed a sign of God’s blessing.

It is at this point that our reading begins. Peter, beginning to see the light, says to Jesus:

We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?

In other words, we have given away all hope of ever being materially rich. Is there anything else for us to look forward to?

Yes, said Jesus, there is:

Everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my Name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life.

This is not just an empty promise, because when everyone surrenders what they have to the community, everyone benefits. No one has more than they need; no one has too little. And this is the road to eternal life – exactly the thing the rich man was looking for.

Clare, filled with the spirit of Francis, took this text very seriously indeed and lived a life of radical simplicity in community. In doing so, she was enormously enriched as were all her Sisters and many others besides.

In these days of gross inequality, not to say irresponsibility, in our world today it is a message we need to listen to very carefully and take very seriously.

The First Reading, taken from the Letter to the Philippians, complements the teaching of the Gospel. Paul says that to have Christ and his Vision is to have everything:

I consider everything as loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.

And he continues:

For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them as so much garbage, that I may gain Christ

To have Christ, to be in Christ, to be with Christ, that is supreme wealth.

And at the conclusion of the passage Paul says:

I for my part do not consider myself to have taken possession. Just one thing: forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead, I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus.

Clare would certainly have totally identified with this prayer. For her, too, Jesus was everything. With him she had all that she needed. Can we, even in a small way, walk in her footsteps?

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Commentary on 2 Corinthians 9:6-10; Psalm 111; John 12:24-26

The Gospel reading for the feast is from John and presents an ideal image of Laurence. Just before today’s reading begins we are told by John that some ‘Greeks’ had come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. They were non-Jews who had probably converted to the Jewish faith. It is clear, too, that in Jerusalem they had heard people talking about Jesus and what he was saying and doing.

So they approached Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee. They may have approached him because ‘Philip’ (Filippos, literally ‘one who loves horses’) was a Greek name. They also probably knew that Philip was with Jesus, so they said to him, “We would like to see Jesus.” Philip then went to consult with his fellow disciple, Andrew (another Greek name, Andreas) and they both went to Jesus with the request.

It is at this point that our reading begins. Jesus answers their request in what seems a very strange and enigmatic manner. He says three things:

-Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies it bears much fruit.

-Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

-Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.

In fact, this is a very clear answer to the ‘Greeks’. They asked to ‘see’ Jesus, but just to lay one’s eyes on him was not to see him. To ‘see’ Jesus fully or properly requires that one have an insight and understanding of the inner mind of Christ. So Jesus cannot be ‘seen’ or understood unless one grasps the purpose and meaning of his death and resurrection. In order for it to be fruitful, a grain of wheat has to fall into the ground and effectively be disintegrated, so that it will be transformed into a new plant which in time will reproduce itself many times over.

This is exactly what Jesus will do. He will surrender his life through his suffering and death on the cross, only to rise again in new life. But not only that, he will bring new life to countless numbers of people who, inspired by him, will become other ‘Christs’. And that is what we celebrate in the Eucharist when we take the bread, the fruit of wheat grains, and say the words:

This [bread] is my Body which will be handed over for you.

And we then share this Bread as a sign of our total identification with the Vision and the Way of Jesus.

That is why Jesus says that not only must he die, but all who wish to follow his Way will also have to be ready to surrender their lives; they will have to be grains of wheat losing themselves to bring more life to others. All who serve Jesus must go his Way, because where Jesus is, his servant is there too.

All of this, of course, applies beautifully to Laurence, who gave his life so generously for the sake of the Gospel. His death was an inspiration to large numbers of people who were inspired by his example.

Laurence, like the grain of wheat, fell to the ground and died, but out of his death, life came for many. Far from being wiped out, the persecuted Church only flourished and continued to flourish – and it continues to thrive in easier, but still challenging conditions.

In the First Reading, which is from the Second Letter of Paul to the Corinthians, he is urging the Christians of Corinth to be “a cheerful giver” – generous in giving help to the impoverished Christian community in Jerusalem. As they excel in many Christian virtues, he wants them to excel, too, in their generosity to their brothers and sisters in need.

Paul says he is not ordering or compelling them, but rather making the suggestion as a test of their love and concern. And Paul has previously given the example of Jesus himself, who became poor and emptied himself so that we might be enriched—enriched in those things which really matter:

For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. (2 Cor 8:9)

Laurence was noted for his generosity in helping the poor and needy. And it is a message that we need to learn and to live, because the real source of riches is not in accumulating things for ourselves, but in giving to others from the gifts we have received.