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Commentary on 1 Timothy 6:2-12

We come now to the last chapter of this letter. Having told Timothy what he should concentrate on in his teaching, Paul warns him against those who do not follow the “sound” teachings of Jesus, which are in accordance with true religion. Paul says that such people are “conceited, understanding nothing”. They have a weakness for questioning everything and love to argue about words. They have an obsession with polemics and controversy for its own sake.

We still meet such people in our Church today. They do absolutely nothing to help the cause of Christ and the building of the Kingdom. As Paul says, they simply create:

…envy, dissension, slander, base suspicions, and wrangling among those who are depraved in mind and bereft of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain.

They claim to be the sole possessors of the truth and can even find fault with the Pope’s orthodoxy, as well as certainly believing that the Second Vatican Council and its developments are anathema.

The only result of this kind of behaviour is jealousy, incessant arguing, verbal abuse and a deep sense of mistrust. It ends up in unending disputes by people with depraved minds and deprived of the truth, who even see religion as a means of personal gain. They did receive the true message, but have wandered far from it. They also regard Paul’s teaching with contempt because he does not ask for money. There are still quite a number of people around who see religion as a good way to make money. What kind of religion it is – well, that’s another question.

Paul says that religion does bring large profits but, paradoxically, only to those who are satisfied with what they have:

Of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment…

In other words the profits in question touch the growth of the interior person and not their material advancement. The really rich are those whose needs are the least in the areas of possessions, power and status.

This leads Paul to recommend living our lives with just what we basically need. As he says:

…for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it, but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.

As they say, you can’t take it with you. And, even the having of it in this life can be a source of endless anxiety.

Those who hanker after material wealth are a prey to all kinds of problems; they get trapped into all sorts of foolish and harmful ambitions, which plunge people into ruin and destruction. Paul then quotes a contemporary proverb:

For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil…

Who are the really rich? One thinks of St Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) or Paul himself and many other saints and holy men and women of all religions. And, of course, of Jesus himself, who just had the clothes on his back and nowhere to lay his head. None of these people were poor in the sense of being deprived. They had everything they needed and much more.

There is no doubt that a great deal of the world’s problems and its miseries arise out of material greed, or out of the determination to hold on to wealth, power and prestige. Most of the world’s international tensions arise from this, causing endless misery to millions. Some call “national security”, but it really concerns the security of the “haves”, not to mention the “have lots”.

Even some Christians, Paul says, have abandoned the Way of the Gospel because of their desires for wealth, power and status as:

…in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.

But, as someone called by God to special service, Timothy is urged to keep away from all this. Instead he is to aim to:

…pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness.

Paul also tells him to:

Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.

When did Timothy make this “good confession” of faith? Perhaps at his baptism or when hands were laid on him for his ministry.

What Paul urges for Timothy are the really precious things, and they are the things which really enrich our lives and the lives of others as well. They are other-centred, while greed and acquisitiveness are aimed only at oneself. Even some kinds of religions can be seen as primarily for the self. Paul is urging Timothy to keep the long view, the “eternal life” to which he was called and to which he committed himself.

It is for us today to look at our own lives. Does our following of Christ lead us to the qualities mentioned above or does it make us belligerent and divisive? Or are we trying to combine the best of both worlds, trying to be Christians and people of the world at the same time? A coating of religion on a life that is really no different from what most of the world is living? What does our lifestyle say about us? What message does it convey to others?

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Commentary on Luke 7:36-50

Today’s passage is one of the most striking scenes in the whole of the Gospel. It is a story only found in Luke and, in a way it is strange that it is not otherwise recorded. It is not the same as the anointing of Jesus at Bethany, described by Matthew (26:6-13). Perhaps to some, especially Jewish readers, it was a little too daring and close to the edge because it is a highly intimate story in which Jesus is deeply involved.

We are told that a Pharisee—his name is Simon—was keen to have Jesus eat at his house. The word ‘Pharisee’ means ‘separated one’ and they numbered about 6,000 throughout Palestine. They taught in synagogues and, as their name implies, they saw themselves on a higher level of religious observance than their fellow Jews. They believed that interpretations and rules handed down by tradition had virtually the same authority as Scripture (see Mark 7:8-13). As a result, they were constantly bothered by Jesus’ behaviour.

Jesus accepted the invitation and he joined Simon and others at the table. We should notice that Jesus accepted invitations from both Pharisees and tax collectors. Both were equally deserving of his love and service. The diners would be reclining on couches, rather than sitting, as was the fashion of the day. This helps to explain what is going to happen.

It is not clear whether what happened next was totally spontaneous or whether it was part of a conspiracy to put Jesus in a compromising position where he could be denounced (not unlike his being presented with an adulterous woman in John 8:1-11). In one sense, it was strange that a woman such as this could burst into a Pharisee’s house unchallenged (there must have been servants); on the other hand, houses were not bolted and barred as they are in our more civilised (?) times.

What is clear is that the woman’s own intentions were sincere. We are told she was “a sinner”. ‘Sinner’ here can only refer to some public immorality, and very likely she was a ‘woman of the street’, perhaps a prostitute, or at least a woman known for her promiscuous behaviour.

She was eager to meet with Jesus and heard that he was dining at Simon’s house. So she burst in, bringing an alabaster box of ointment (probably quite expensive) and came up to Jesus from behind. She immediately began crying and her abundant tears bathed Jesus’ feet. She then began to dry his feet with her long hair. The fact that she wore her hair down or let it down in public itself indicates that she was a ‘loose woman’. She kissed the feet of Jesus and poured the ointment over them.

Simon, whether he had planned the intrusion or not, was deeply shocked at the extraordinary scene that was playing out before his eyes and in his house. If Jesus was really a prophet, he thought to himself, he would know what kind of a woman this was who was touching him. She was a sinner, and no good person (least of all a rabbi!) should allow anything remotely like that to take place.

Jesus, fully aware of what was going on in Simon’s mind, tells him a story about two debtors. One owed a large amount and other a smaller amount. However, the creditor wrote off both debts. Which of the two, Jesus asked, would be more grateful and appreciative? Obviously the one who had been remitted the larger debt, said Simon.

“You have judged rightly”, replied Jesus and then went on to apply the parable to the present situation. In the process he indicates something that Simon had probably not thought of—that he, too, was a sinner, even though to a lesser degree. This was true because Simon had been guilty of not extending even the ordinary courtesies of hospitality to his guest. He said to Simon:

I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.

And now comes the point of the story. Jesus says:

Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven loves little.

And turning to the woman at his feet, Jesus says:

Your sins are forgiven.

The guests at table begin to ask each other:

Who is this who even forgives sins?

But Jesus says to the woman:

Your faith has saved you; go in peace.

This is a really extraordinary story. To appreciate this, one has to enter into it visually and be really present with all one’s senses active. What comes across is the amazing composure and inner security and freedom of Jesus during the whole episode. He shows absolutely no signs of being uncomfortable or embarrassed. He does not pull away or tell the woman to stop what she is doing.

Here is this woman, known to be a public sinner, who comes in and weeps over him, wipes his feet with her hair and keeps kissing them passionately. The guests are highly disturbed, shocked and probably embarrassed, but Jesus remains perfectly at ease. He knows what the woman is doing and why; he is not worried about what others might think she is doing.

Let us admire his ability to focus totally on the woman and not be self-conscious about the other people around. Imagine what a tabloid publication might have made of this scene! What if something like that were to happen today with a bishop or priest, or some other prominent person? How would most clergy—or other public people react in such a situation?

Jesus knows that the woman is expressing both sincere repentance and a great affection for Jesus. She is expressing her repentance in the only way that she knows. She is a highly tactile person; it is part of her way of life. To the sexually immature, what she is doing—and Jesus’ acceptance of it—seems at the very least, unbecoming, and at the worst bordering on the obscene.

But Jesus says her sins are now forgiven. It was really the passionate love she was showing which indicated that she had won forgiveness. Love and sin are incompatible; they cannot co-exist in the same person. She was loving Jesus so much at that moment that she could not be a sinner. Simon could not see this. His concept of sin was purely legalistic, but for Jesus it is relational.

At this point her immoral past was totally irrelevant. In our society, wrongdoers can be stuck with labels often for the rest of their lives irrespective of how they have changed. God does not work that way. He deals with persons as they are in the here and now. What I did yesterday does not matter. All that matters is what I am doing now, how I am relating to God and those around me right now.

We remember the man who died beside Jesus on the cross. He had led a terrible life and was now being executed for his crimes. Yet he appeals to Jesus and is promised that he will go to God hand in hand with Jesus. Unfair? Fortunately God’s ideas of fairness are not ours—otherwise we might be in trouble because of our past.

Once again we see how God, in Jesus, always tries to rehabilitate and not to punish. Punishment destroys—God’s desire is that we all be made whole and experience inner peace and harmony.

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Commentary on 1 Timothy 4:12-16 Read Thursday of week 24 of Ordinary Time – First Reading »

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Robert Bellarmine was born on 4 October, 1542, at Montepulciano in Tuscany, Italy, to a noble, but impoverished family and was a nephew of Pope Marcellus II. As a boy he knew Virgil by heart and became adept at writing Latin verse. One of his hymns, on Mary Magdalene, is in the Breviary. He could play the violin and was good at debating. In 1560, at the age of 18, he entered the Jesuits and made his studies in Rome, Padua and Louvain. During his time of formation, he also taught Latin and Greek in Florence and Piedmont for a number of years. He was ordained priest at Ghent in 1570.

He then went to Louvain and began a long career in the teaching of theology. He lectured on the Summa Theologica of St Thomas Aquinas, while attacking the opinions of Baius on grace and free will. He also authored a book on Hebrew grammar. After seven years there his health deteriorated under the pressure of his studies and his ascetical life. He returned to his native Italy to restore it. He was kept in Rome by Pope Gregory XIII to lecture on polemical theology, dealing with the controversial issues of the day, in the newly opened and Jesuit-run Roman College. These lectures would become the basis of his Disputationes de controversiis christianae fidei (Disputation on the Controversies of Christian Faith). This was a comprehensive presentation of Catholic teaching. It showed such erudition in Scripture, on the Fathers and Protestant theology that it was believed to be the work of several scholars. It met with immediate acclaim, but was banned in England by the government.

Robert was also involved in a revision of the Vulgate (the Latin translation of the Bible) and the production of a famous catechism which would still be in use 300 years later. Following the death of Henry III of France, Pope Sixtus V sent a legate to Paris to negotiate with the League, and chose Bellarmine as his theologian. Bellarmine was in the city during its siege by Henry of Navarre who would become king.

In the latter part of his life, one appointment followed another. In 1592, he was made Rector of the Jesuits’ Roman College. Two years later he became the Provincial of the Jesuit Province of Naples.

In 1597, Pope Clement VIII made him his theological adviser, and two years after that named him to the College of Cardinals (as a Cardinal-Priest). These honours did nothing to change his austere lifestyle. He lived on a diet of bread and garlic and was known to have used the curtains of his apartment to clothe the poor.

In 1602, he was made Archbishop of Capua and immediately was deeply involved in pastoral and welfare work. But he resigned his see after only three years when he was called back to Rome in 1605 by Pope Paul V to become Prefect of the Vatican Library, as well as being active in several Vatican Congregations.

His reservations about the temporal power of the Papacy are said to have put him out of favour with Pope Sixtus V and even to have delayed his canonisation. He was, however, vindicated by later theologians. In the famous controversy on the relationship of the sun to the earth, Bellarmine showed himself sympathetic to Galileo’s case, but had urged the scientist to proceed more cautiously and to distinguish hypothesis from truth.

In his old age he was allowed to return to his old home, Montepulciano, as its bishop for four years, after which he retired to the Jesuit college of St Andrew in Rome. He received some votes in the conclaves which elected Popes Leo XI, Paul V, and Gregory XV, but only in the second case had he any prospect of election. During his retirement, he wrote several short books intended to help ordinary people in their spiritual life: The Mind’s Ascent to God (1614), The Art of Dying Well (1619), and The Seven Words on the Cross.

He died in Rome on 17 September, 1621, at the age of 79. Though physically a small man, he was a giant in intellectual ability and personal warmth. He prayed every day for the Protestant theologians with whom he disagreed, and never (as was often the case on both sides) made abusive attacks on them.

He was canonised in 1930 and named a Doctor of the Church in 1931. Considered the outstanding theologian of his age, he is remembered for his dedication to the truth, charity in disputation, and austerity of life. As one person commented:

“The man wore only one Cardinal’s outfit. Despite his friends’ best efforts to get him some new clothes, his patches had patches.”

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Commentary on Luke 7:31-35

Today’s passage follows immediately after the scene (not in our Mass readings) where Jesus answers the query from John the Baptist, now languishing in prison, about whether Jesus is truly the Messiah. Jesus uses the occasion to speak words of high praise for John:

I tell you, among those born of women no one is greater than John, yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he. (Luke 7:28)

Jesus now criticises the cynicism and self-contradictory attitudes of those who reject both him and John. They have simply closed their ears and want to hear nothing and learn nothing. He compares them to children in a city square calling to their playmates:

We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not weep.

This comparison Jesus applies to John the Baptist and himself. John led an austere life in the desert eating, as we are told elsewhere, only locusts and wild honey. They said he was mad and rejected him. Jesus came leading a highly convivial life, mixing with all kinds of people. They called him a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and other sinful people. He even invited a tax collector to be one of his twelve Apostles!

It was a no-win situation. When people are like that there is really nothing that can be done. Jesus concludes with the enigmatic statement:

…wisdom is vindicated by all her children.

Both John and Jesus could be described as children of Wisdom, whose origin is God himself. Those who can see the hand of God in the lives of John and Jesus are also children of Wisdom. Those who adamantly refuse to see God are not.

It is important for us not to fall into such a trap. God speaks to us in so many ways and through so many people and situations. It is very easy to find ourselves excluding, a priori, the people or situations by which God is trying to reach us.

We cannot expect God to speak to us only in ways which we find congenial. He may speak to us through a saint or a sinner, through a conservative or a liberal, through a straight or gay person, or through a man or a woman or a young child. Perhaps he speaks through an old person or a young person, or through an educated or an illiterate person, or through someone we know or someone we don’t. We have at all times to be ready to listen with an unprejudiced mind and heart.

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Commentary on 1 Timothy 3:14-16

The first part of today’s reading is an immediate follow-up on yesterday’s about the qualities required of “bishops” (episkopoi) and “deacons” (diakonoi).

Paul is writing to Timothy from Rome in the hope of being able to pay him a personal visit in the near future. But, in case his visit is “delayed” (because he may actually be in prison), he is sending the present letter in order to instruct him on his responsibility of setting high standards of conduct in the Church of Ephesus and its nearby towns:

I am writing these instructions to you so that, if I am delayed, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and support of the truth.

The care he must exercise over this community is required by the profound nature of Christianity as:

…the mystery of godliness is great.

A full understanding of our Christian faith and of the Church requires a great deal of prayer and reflection. And, unless there is a deep understanding of what it is about, one cannot expect Christians to behave in a desirable manner.

Then, using what seems to be part of a liturgical hymn from the Ephesian church, Paul expresses that “mystery” at the heart of Christian belief. It consists of six brief statements grouped in pairs:

He was revealed in flesh,
vindicated in spirit,
seen by angels,
proclaimed among gentiles,
believed in throughout the world,
taken up in glory.

It centres on Christ, pre-existent (from all eternity the Word was with God) but, through the Incarnation, appearing in human flesh. He was justified in the Spirit, which came down on him during his baptism in the Jordan:

And a voice from the heavens said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” (Matt 3:17)

Thus the mission of Jesus is fully endorsed, as will happen again at the Transfiguration.

The holiness and divinity of Christ were also proved by his rising in glory. The Holy Spirit enables Jesus to drive out demons (see Matt 12:28) and perform wonderful signs. Most importantly, the Spirit raised Jesus from the dead and thereby vindicated him, proving that he was indeed the Son of God. The mystery of his Person was revealed to the angels (at his resurrection and ascension), and proclaimed to the Gentiles (by people like the apostles and Paul and Timothy).

The response of the Gentiles results in Jesus being believed in throughout the world. As Paul wrote, ‘world’ refers to the Mediterranean region, the world in which he lived but, of course, it has since become a reality far beyond his wildest imagining. Finally, through his resurrection-ascension Christ has been taken up in glory, sitting at the right hand of the Father.

It is important for us to realise how deep is the mystery of our Christian faith centred on the Trinity and the Incarnation. It is inevitable that people, including bishops and priests, have different understandings of that faith, even after much study. Such differences should lead to a readiness to listen to others rather than lock ourselves into our own understanding. And let us remember what Jesus said was the only true sign of our belonging to him:

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

Because, wherever there is love, God is also there. That, of course, does not excuse us (depending on our abilities) from trying to have the best understanding possible of the meaning of our faith.

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Nothing certain is known of Cornelius’ early life. After Rome had been without a bishop for about a year because of the persecution of the Emperor Decius, Cornelius, a member of the Cornelia family, was elected Bishop of Rome in 251 by the clergy and people. The principal difficulty he had to face was not persecution, but divisions in the Christian community arising out of the reconciling of those who had lapsed by, for instance, denying their faith. A priest, Novatian, was against the bishop’s policy of forgiveness. He claimed that the Church had no power to pardon those who had lapsed during time of persecution. The same applied to cases of murder, adultery and even in the cases of those who had entered a second marriage (also seen as a form of adultery). Novatian then set himself up as a rival pope.

However, Cornelius, with the strong support of Cyprian, whose feast we also celebrate today, insisted that the Church did have the power to forgive apostates and other sinners. And that they could be readmitted to the Eucharistic table after having performed an appropriate period of penance. Some letters of Cornelius to Cyprian, together with Cyprian’s replies, have survived.

A synod of Western bishops in Rome in October of 251 upheld Cornelius, condemned the teachings of Novatian, and excommunicated him and his followers. When persecutions of the Christians started up again in 253 under Emperor Gallus, Cornelius was exiled to Centum Cellae (Civitavecchia, a coastal town, northwest of Rome), where he died a martyr probably of hardships he was forced to endure. But Cyprian called him a martyr and later accounts said that Cornelius had been beheaded. He was buried at Rome in the crypt of Lucina, where his tomb can still be seen with the inscription Cornelius Martyr. A painting of Cyprian was added to the wall of the crypt in the 8th century.

Cyprian (Thasius Cecilianus Cyprianus) was born about the year 200 at Carthage in North Africa. He was of a wealthy and distinguished pagan background. He was either of Punic stock or, as is sometimes claimed, a Berber. In fact, the site of his eventual martyrdom was his own villa.

He became an orator, a teacher of rhetoric, and an advocate in the courts before being converted to Christianity about 245. After his baptism, he gave away a portion of his wealth to the poor of Carthage, as befitted a man of his rank. He gave up all pagan writing and devoted himself exclusively to Scripture and Christian commentaries. He particularly liked Tertullian, whom he regarded as his master. In the early days of his conversion he wrote an Epistola ad Donatum de gratia Dei (Letter to Donatus concerning God’s grace), and three books of Testimoniorum adversus Judaeos that adhere closely to the models of Tertullian, who influenced his style and thinking, and are largely interesting as documents about the history of antisemitism.

A few years after his conversion he was ordained priest, and in 248 was proclaimed Bishop of Carthage by the clergy, the people and with the agreement of neighbouring bishops. However, a small number of people refused to recognise the appointment. And very soon he was facing the persecution of the Emperor Decius. He took refuge in a safer place, but kept in contact with his flock by letter. During the persecution, a number of Christians renounced their faith by sacrificing to idols or bought certificates which falsely claimed they had made the sacrifices.

After a suitable period of penance, Cyprian reconciled these apostates. One of his priests, Novatus, accepted them back without imposing any penance. However, as we saw with Cornelius, Novatian the anti-pope, denied that the Church had the right to absolve them. Cyprian, for his part, insisted on quiet compassion, on the unity of the Church and the need for obedience and loyalty on the part of all. In 251, his policy towards the lapsed was approved by the Council of Carthage.

Another controversial issue was the validity of baptism performed by people not in union with the pope, by heretics and apostates. Against the opinion of Pope Stephen II, Cyprian was against the validity of these baptisms and in this was supported by other North African bishops. The issue was resolved only after the death of Stephen and Cyprian by the Church accepting the Roman tradition in favour of the validity of such baptisms.

At the end of 256, a new persecution of the Christians under the emperor Valerian broke out, and both Pope Stephen and his successor, Sixtus II, were martyred in Rome. In Africa, Cyprian courageously prepared his people for the expected edict of persecution by his De exhortatione martyrii. He himself was brought before the Roman proconsul Aspasius Paternus on 30 August, 257. He refused to sacrifice to the pagan deities and firmly professed Christ. The consul banished him to remote Churubis. From here he comforted as best he could his flock and exiled clergy. In a vision he saw his approaching fate. After a year he was recalled, but kept a prisoner in his own villa. A new and more stringent imperial edict demanded the execution of all Christian clerics.

On 13 September, 258, Cyprian was imprisoned by orders of a new proconsul, Galerius Maximus. On the following day he was examined for the last time and sentenced to die by the sword. His only answer was “Thanks be to God!” The execution was carried out at once in an open place near the city. A large crowd followed Cyprian on his last journey. He took off his garments without assistance, knelt down, and prayed. After he blindfolded himself, he was beheaded.

The body was interred by Christians near the place of execution, and over both his tomb and place of execution, churches were erected. They were later destroyed by the Vandals. Charlemagne is said to have had the bones transferred to France and Lyons, Arles, Venice, Compiègne, and Roenay in Flanders all boast possession of the martyr’s relics.

Contemporary writings indicate a devoted and pastoral bishop who was deeply respected. His thoughts are best revealed in his writings. Among the most important are his De Catholicae Ecclesiae Unitate (On the Unity of the Universal Church), De Lapsis (On the Apostates), De Habitu Virginum (On the Dress of Virgins) as well as sermons and letters.

Cornelius and Cyprian are linked together in the Catholic liturgy and are mentioned in the First Eucharistic Prayer.

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Commentary on Luke 7:11-17

This story is only found in Luke’s Gospel. It is one of only three stories in the Gospel where Jesus is described as bringing a dead person to life. The most dramatic is the story of Lazarus told in John’s Gospel. There is the also the story of the synagogue leader’s daughter (Luke 6:40-56; Mark 5:21-43; Matt 9:18-26), although it is not categorically certain that she had actually died. She might have been in a coma or catatonic state.

In the thinking of the time, the scene is particularly sad. A woman, who has already lost her husband, has now lost her only son—her only means of support. She is on the way to bury him.

The lot of the widow, in those days—often a relatively young woman—was particularly difficult in a society where the married woman was no longer the responsibility of her own family and who, after the death of husband and children, was no longer the responsibility of her husband’s family either. She was largely left to her own devices in a society where social welfare of any kind was unknown.

Jesus himself is deeply moved at her plight. At this point, for the first time, Luke refers to Jesus as “Lord”, a title reserved for God himself. He approaches the litter (not a coffin as we know it) carrying the dead man and touches it, causing the bearers to stop. He then says:

Young man, I say to you, rise!

As in other similar stories, the word used for “rise” is the same as that used when describing the resurrection of Jesus for he:

…came that they may have life and have it abundantly.
(John 10:10)

The reaction of the people around is one of awe and admiration:

Fear seized all of them, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has visited his people!”

They had no doubts about the origin of what they had seen taking place; it was the work of God. Not surprisingly, the story spread like wildfire all through Judea and beyond. The episode prepares the way for Jesus’ response to the disciples of John the Baptist a little later (not included in our Mass readings during this time).

This story should help us to look at our own situation and see, first of all, how alive we really are. Let us look around and see how many people need to be lifted up and helped to find new life. Maybe we can do something for them.

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Commentary on 1 Timothy 3:1-13

When Paul wrote this Letter to Timothy, the early Church was still developing the leadership and pastoral structures with which we are now familiar. Paul today has advice for “bishops” and “deacons” and lays down the criteria on which they are to be chosen. The actual structure of ‘bishop’, ‘priest’ and ‘deacon’ as we know it now had not yet taken form.

The Jerusalem Bible has a useful overview of the situation:

“The word episkopos (‘overseer’, ‘supervisor’ or ‘president’) had not yet acquired the same meaning as ‘bishop’ and seems sometimes to overlap with the presbuteros (‘elder’). In the earliest days each Christian community was governed by a body of elders (‘presbyters’, from which comes the English word ‘priests’), who were prominent and respected people in the community. This was the case both in Jerusalem and in the Diaspora (the communities scattered through East Asia and to the west) and it merely continued both the ancient practice of the Old Testament and the more recent practice of the Jews.”

These episkopoi who are not yet ‘bishops’ in our modern sense and who are mentioned in connection with the diakonoi (servants, attendants, assistants, deputies, ministers, ‘deacons’) seem, in some passages, to be identical with the elders. The Greek word episkopos (taken over from the pagan world probably as an equivalent for a semitic title) indicated the duty of an administrative officer, while presbuteros indicated the status or dignity of the same officer. The episkopoi in the college of presbyters may have taken turns to carry out their official duties of administration and leadership.

It is quite certain that Christian presbuteroi or episkopoi were not merely concerned with the practical side of organising things: they had to both teach and govern. They were appointed by the apostles or their representatives by the imposition of hands; their powers derived from God and were charismatic. The word episkopos eventually replaced analogous titles like proistamenos (official), poimen (pastor or shepherd), hegoumenos (guide or leader).

These heads of the local community who developed into our priests (presbuteroi) and bishops (episkopoi) were helped by diakonoi (deacons). The transformation of a local assembly ruled by a body of bishops or presbyters, into an assembly ruled by a single bishop set over a number of priests (a stage reached by the time of Ignatius of Antioch, died, about 107 AD) must have involved the intermediate stage when a single episkopos in each community was given the same powers over that local community which had previously been exercised over several communities by the apostles or their representatives like Timothy or Titus.

The overseers/elders were carefully chosen by the communities and hands were laid on them to indicate their appointments were blessed by the Holy Spirit. This is the beginning of the sacrament of Holy Orders. Paul himself was not a bishop; he was an apostle and evangeliser. And it is not certain that Timothy was a bishop; his work seems to have been more similar to that of Paul, an animator and visitor of communities scattered over the whole of the eastern Mediterranean.

In this Letter and in the whole New Testament there is as yet no mention of ‘priests’ as we know them now. As we saw, the word ‘priest’ is a corruption of the Greek word presbuteros or ‘elder’. We see these elders mentioned as leaders of their communities and even presiding at the celebration of the Eucharist. It would not be quite accurate to call them ‘laymen’ as distinct from ‘clergy’, because in the Church at this time neither term would have been used. The distinction between ‘clergy’ and ‘laity’ simply did not exist.

However, there was another type of priest represented by the Greek word hiereus, from which comes our word ‘hier-archy’ (meaning, rule by priests). This was a word applied to temple priests, whether of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem or the many thousands of temples scattered throughout the Greek and Roman world. In the beginning, the Church did not have this type of priest, nor did it want to. And, the reason was clear.

For the early Christians, there was only one Priest in this sense and that was Jesus Christ himself. He was both the Priest (hiereus and not presbuteros) and the Victim of the sacrifice made on the cross, a sacrifice which in its infinite value replaced all other sacrifices before and after, a sacrifice that need never again be repeated. This is all beautifully laid out in the Letter to the Hebrews (see Heb 5:1-10).

Our Eucharistic celebration is a representation of that unique sacrifice on the cross, which was sacramentally anticipated at the Last Supper. The one who presides is now called a ‘priest’, of which the Latin translation is sacerdos, the equivalent of hiereus. But it is the bishop who is now regarded as having the fullness of priesthood. These developments took place in the Church over the course of centuries.

In today’s reading, Paul gives Timothy a detailed character-sketch of what the presiding bishop and the deacon should be. Many, but not all, of the requirements are just as valid today.

Regarding the ‘bishop’ or presiding elder, Paul says that to desire to fill this role is a noble thing and that is why he (it was always a man) had to be of impeccable character. He then lists the desired qualifications, of which, first and foremost was:

…a bishop must be above reproach, married only once…

This was to preclude any violation of God’s marriage law, whether through polygamy or marital unfaithfulness. As the bishops were, by definition, chosen from the older men of the community, Paul assumed they already would be married and have children. But an otherwise qualified unmarried man was not necessarily barred. It is also improbable that the standard forbade an bishop to remarry if his wife died. The most likely meaning is simply that a faithful monogamous married life must have been maintained.

The chosen man must also be:

…temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, an apt teacher, not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, and not a lover of money.

He must also:

…manage his own household well, keeping his children submissive and respectful in every way, for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church?

Furthermore, the prospective bishop:

…must not be a recent convert, or he may be puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil.

And finally:

…he must be well thought of by outsiders, so that he may not fall into disgrace and the snare of the devil.

It is quite a demanding list of qualities, even by today’s standards, and one that many bishops and priests might find it hard to meet.

Next comes the list of qualifications for a ‘deacon’ (diakonos). The word ‘deacon’ refers to someone who serves the community and in general is seen on a lower level than the presbuteros (priest, elder) or episkopoi (bishop). Authority and ministry in the community is always seen in terms of service rather than control. Jesus himself had said he came to serve and not to be served (Mark 10:45). ‘Minister/ministry’, from the Latin minister/ministerium means one who serves and is the equivalent of the Greek diakonos/diakonia.

The men chosen in Acts 6:1-6 were probably not only the first deacons mentioned in the New Testament, but also the first to be appointed in the church. Generally, their service was meant to free the leaders to give full attention to prayer and the ministry of the word (see Acts 6:2,4).

As a person with responsibility in the community, the deacon (diakonos), too, has to meet certain standards. Paul says they:

…must be serious, not double-tongued, not indulging in much wine, not greedy for money; they must hold fast to the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. And let them first be tested; then, if they prove themselves blameless, let them serve as deacons.

Women too are mentioned at this point, but it is not clear whether Paul is referring to women deacons, as some would hold, or only speaking about the deacon’s wife. Paul in his Letter to the Romans writes:

I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church at Cenchreae… (Rom 16:1)

However, it is also disputed as to what exactly her status was.

In any case, these women, deaconesses or deacons’ wives, are to be:

…serious, not slanderers, but temperate, faithful in all things.

Returning then to the deacon, Paul says he, like the ‘bishop’, must:

…be married only once, and let them manage their children and their households well…

Finally, says Paul,

…those who serve well as deacons gain a good standing for themselves and great boldness in the faith that is in Christ Jesus.

In more recent times, and especially since the Second Vatican Council, the concept of ministry has been broadened in our Church. It had become largely confined to the bishop and the priest. Now the order of deacon has been enhanced and certainly also includes married deacons. And there does not seem to be any intrinsic objection why women could not also be deacons, but some sadly see this as the thin end of the wedge leading to women priests.

In addition, other ministries have been introduced on a non-clerical level, such as Scripture readers (lectors and ministers of the Eucharist). Paul speaks of a wide range of ministries by which people could actively contribute to the life and work of the community and this vision is being restored.

It is for every Christian and every parishioner to ask themselves how they can actively and constructively contribute to the service of their community or parish. This is what gives life to a parish and draws people into it. And we need to pray and work for enlightened and practical solutions to the critical shortage of pastoral leadership in so many parts of the Church today.

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Commentary on Hebrews 5:7-9; Psalm 30; Luke 2:33-35 or John 19:25-27

There are two choices for the Gospel reading. The first is from Luke’s account of the Presentation in the Temple. While they were in the Temple, Mary and Joseph met the holy man Simeon, who had been promised that he would not die before laying eyes on the Messiah. When he meets Mary and Joseph, he recognises the Messiah in the baby she is holding. He then proceeds to make some prophecies about Jesus and, addressing Mary herself, tells her:

…a sword will pierce your own soul.

He does not specify what that “sword” might be but now we can see that it particularly alludes to the suffering and death of Jesus which she witnessed. However, the “sword” can also be applied to the other painful experiences we remember in the Seven Sorrows of Mary.

The alternative Gospel reading is from John’s account of the Crucifixion where he mentions that “his mother” was standing by the foot of the Cross as her Son died. With her were “…his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Also standing next to his mother was “the disciple whom he loved”.

Seeing them there, Jesus entrusts the Beloved Disciple to the care of his Mother, while telling the Beloved Disciple that Jesus’ Mother is his also. Some would see in this scene the Mother of Jesus as symbolising the Christian community. There is to be a relationship of mutual support between the community and its dedicated members. The community exists for the well-being of the individual members and each member is committed in turn to the well-being of the community.

The First Reading is from the Letter to the Hebrews and speaks of Jesus’ passionate prayer to his Father that he not have to go through the terrible death of the Cross. And his prayer was heard because of his total submission to his Father. It was precisely through the acceptance of his suffering that he learnt to be totally at one with the will of his Father. And, being made perfect through his obedience, he became a source of salvation for all others who unite themselves to him.

And who was more united to Jesus than his Mother? It is because of her acceptance of and identification with the sufferings of her Son that we celebrate her memory today.