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Commentary on Mark 8:22-26

We are approaching a high point in Mark’s Gospel.  And it is preceded by today’s strategically placed story.  At first glance it looks like a simple healing story of a blind man but, as in most of Mark’s miracles, there is a deeply symbolic meaning inside.

People bring a blind man to Jesus so that Jesus could apply his healing touch (how much of our touching is healing—or are we afraid of physical touch?).  Jesus takes the man aside away from the crowds.  He puts spittle on the man’s eyes and asks:

Can you see anything?

The man, who is beginning now to see, says he can see people:

…but they look like trees, walking.

Jesus lays his hands on the man’s eyes again and now:

…his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.

Jesus tells him to go directly home, not through the village. He wants no misplaced sensationalism about who he is.  The truth of that is going to be revealed very soon.

The story is clearly linked with other events that have just been taking place. We have seen the blindness of the Pharisees unable to recognise the power of God in the words and works of Jesus.  We can see the blindness of his own disciples when he asked them in the boat:

Do you still not perceive or understand? Do you have eyes and fail to see? Do you have ears and fail to hear? (Mark 8:17-18)

This story, coming where it is, is a parable about the gradual opening of the disciples’ eyes as it begins to dawn on them just who Jesus is. We will see in tomorrow’s Gospel a giant step in their seeing and understanding, while at the same time being aware that they still have a long way to go.

Our understanding of Jesus is also a gradual process and it never ends. Many seem to settle into a complacent level of understanding beyond which they never go.  As a result, their spiritual growth is blocked, and also their ability to have a growing faith enrich their lives.

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Commentary on Mark 8:11-13

The Pharisees, disturbed by what Jesus is saying and doing, demand a “sign from heaven” to indicate that his authority comes from God.  He refuses to acquiesce to their request; they will not get a sign on their terms. 

The irony, of course, is that Jesus’ whole life is a sign—a sign of God’s loving presence among us.  In Mark, the ordinary people can see this clearly.  Only the leaders and (in Mark) Jesus’ own disciples are slow to learn.

In the immediately foregoing passage, Jesus has just fed 4,000 people with seven loaves of bread and a few fish.  The signs are there in abundance, but the Pharisees cannot see because they do not want to see.  Their blindness is a central theme to this part of Mark, as we shall see. We too need to be aware of our own blindness and our failure to see the signs of God’s love operating in our everyday lives.

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Commentary on Genesis 4:1-15,25

The story of original sin continues with a number of accounts all pointing to the source of people’s pain and suffering—their alienation from the ways of God. Today it is about the all-too prevalent violence and killing which brings death, anger, fear and division into people’s lives.

The New Jerusalem Bible introduces the story in this way:

“This narrative presupposes a developed civilisation, an established form of worship, the existence of other people who might kill Cain, and the existence of a clan that would rally to him. It may be that the narrative originally referred not to the children of the first Man, but to the eponymous ancestor of the Cainites (see Num 24:21). The Yahwistic tradition has moved the story back to the period of the beginning, thus giving it a universal significance: after the revolt against God we now have fratricidal strife; against these two evils is directed the double command that sums up the whole Law—the love of God and of neighbour (see Matt 22:40).”

Now expelled from the Garden, the Man has sexual relations with his wife, Eve, and they have a son who is called Cain:

I have produced a man with the help of the Lord.

The Hebrew name qayin (“Cain”) and the term qaniti (“I have produced” or “I have acquired”, i.e. ‘acquisition’) present a play on words. There are many examples where biblical naming of children or places involves puns on key events. The statement also expresses the delight of the first Woman who, though under the ‘rule’ of her husband, produces what the Man wants, but cannot produce on his own—a son. God is more behind the procreation of the son than her husband.

Cain, then, is seen as a gift from God. There is an element of creation in every act of pro-creation. Cain is soon followed by a brother, Abel. Abel ( meaning “emptiness or futility” in Hebrew folk etymology), is the perfect counterpart of “Acquisition”. In the Scriptures, brother pairs are often seen opposed in temperament, way of life and destiny (e.g. Jacob and Esau).

Abel was a shepherd while Cain was a farmer tilling the ground. The historical opposition of shepherds and farmers is indicated here. God favours the shepherd, but the choice comes to grief in any case. This is the first instance, too, of a common biblical theme—the younger being preferred to the elder (among others, Isaac to Ishmael, Jacob to Esau, Rachel to Leah). Such preferences indicate the freedom of God’s choice, his bypassing earthly standards of greatness, and his regard for the lowly (see Jesus’ teaching to his disciples about who is really great in the Kingdom: Matthew 18:1-5; Luke 9:46-48; Mark 10:35-45).

In the course of time, Cain brought along the fruits of his farming and offered them to the Lord. Abel also brought the first lambs of his flock and offered their fat portions to the Lord. God was pleased with the offerings of Abel, but disregarded those of Cain. This made Cain very angry and resentful. We might be inclined to sympathise, or ask the reason for the discrimination.

Perhaps Cain is being told that what really pleases God is righteousness and good behaviour. This will emerge more clearly in the time of the prophets, where religious rituals are seen only as having value when they are accompanied by a life of concern for the brother and sister, especially those in need.

God asks Cain why he is angry and despondent. If he had done well, would he not have been accepted by God? If he is badly disposed to God’s treatment of him, is not “sin…lurking at the door”? This is something he must overcome, but something he failed to do. He invited his brother to go out to his farm and there Cain killed Abel. The crime is aggravated by the deceit (“Let us go out to the field.”), and being against a blood brother and a good man who had done nothing to provoke such violence.

God then asks Cain where his brother has gone. As in the case of the Man and the Woman after their sin, God knows very well what has happened, but he wants to give Cain an opportunity to confess his crime. However, Cain backs off. He says he does not know, and then asks the famous question:

…am I my brother’s keeper?

This is, of course, a rhetorical question in the Scriptures.

God now comes out straight:

What have you done? Listen, your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground!

So Cain is cursed from the ground, the very ground which received Abel’s blood from Cain’s hand. From now on, the earth he tills will not be productive, while Cain himself will be a fugitive and a wanderer over the earth. He will enjoy no citizens’ rights, at least in his initial homeland.

Cain’s punishment is to till the ground with great difficulty, and to be condemned to the life of an ever-wandering nomad. This was, in fact, the life of many people in pre-agricultural days, and there are still people living in this way, including the Bedouins of the desert.

Cain feels his punishment is more than he can bear: he has been driven from the soil which provided him with a living and, worse, he must remain hidden from the face of God, while being a fugitive and wanderer for the rest of his life. Anyone who sees him will feel justified in killing him. Faced with his crime, Cain does not express any form of repentance, but is simply filled with self-pity. Ironically, then, he begs God that he not meet the same fate as his own brother, that of being killed.

He has no need to fear, God tells him, because anyone who kills Cain will be punished seven-times more severely. The message is clear: killing, even in revenge is ruled out (see also Jesus’ words on this in Matt 5:21-26). God then put a mark on Cain to prevent anyone from striking him down. This is not a brand of shame, but a protecting sign; it shows that Cain (with Abel) belongs to a clan which will exact blood for blood.

The use of tattooing for tribal marks has always been common among the nomads of the Near Eastern deserts. Also in ancient times, certain criminals were offered limited asylum when uncontrolled reprisals posed a greater social danger than the criminals themselves.

Cain was left in a living hell—neither living nor dying. But what he did was only the beginning of a huge trail of murder and bloodshed in the world’s history. For the authors of Genesis, this was the first recorded murder, but such violence continues now as a reality of life, part of man’s sinfulness from the very beginning. In a verse which is part of this story, but not contained in our reading, Lamech, a descendant of Adam, boasts to his wives, saying:

Adah and Zillah, hear my voice;
you wives of Lamech, listen to what I say:
I have killed a man for wounding me,
a young man for striking me.
If Cain is avenged sevenfold,
truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold. (Gen 4:23-34)

One wonders if Jesus’ answer to Peter about the number of times he should forgive is an echo of Lamech’s boast? (See Matt 18:22).

At the end of the reading, we are told that later Adam again had intercourse with his wife and they bore a son called Seth:

God has appointed for me another child instead of Abel, because Cain killed him.

The Hebrew word for ‘appointed’ (shat) sounds very like ‘Seth’. Abel was dead, and Cain was rejected, so another son was needed for the family line (indeed the human line) to continue. We know very little about Seth except that—in biblical terms—he lived a very long life and had many descendants (Gen 5:6-7).

We live today in a world full of violence and killing. Let us not be instigators of violence in any way—in action, in word or even in thought.

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Commentary on Isaiah 66:10-14; John 2:1-11

The Gospel is the story of the marriage feast at Cana from John. The passage comes at the end of a week introducing the person of Jesus and his first disciples—a week which recalls the week of creation in the book of Genesis.  On this last day there is a new creation, the creation of the New Covenant between God and his people, who from now on will include people from all over the world.

A wedding is a traditional Old Testament image for people’s relationship with God. Some of the prophets have described God as the spouse of his people, a people who again and again are scolded for their unfaithfulness to their Spouse.

Here at this wedding, we are told that the wine began to run short, a dreadful thing to happen for the hosts, who would have been the bride’s family. The mother of Jesus draws Jesus’ attention to the crisis. And Jesus at first tries to brush it off as none of his business. But his mother ignores his response and goes and tells the servant to go and do what Jesus tells them. He then instructs the servants to fill six large jars, each capable of holding 20-30 gallons, with water and then to bring them to the steward. When the steward was invited to taste, what had now just been water was discovered to be a wine of the very first quality. The steward is amazed. It was the custom to serve the good wine first and then, when people’s palates had been dulled, to serve a lower quality of wine.

The meaning is clear. Those six jars of water are the heart of the story. They represent a traditional Jewish custom, according to the Law, of purifying oneself on entering the house and, by implication, the whole of the Mosaic Law, whose observance was the core of serving God. 

For John, numbers are important. The perfect number is seven—for instance, there are seven ‘signs’ which Jesus gives in this Gospel; there are seven ‘I AM…’ statements. But here there are only six jars, short of perfection. They are now replaced by the high class wine of the New Covenant, of which Jesus is the sign. In fact, the passage ends with:

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee and revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

In a way all this happened because Mary told Jesus what he should do. So here, as we honour Our Lady of Lourdes, we see Mary now telling Bernadette what she should do. And that is just how Bernadette responded, so that today literally millions of people go on pilgrimage to Lourdes in search of peace and healing.

The First Reading, which is from the prophet Isaiah, speaks of Jerusalem as the source of peace for the Jewish people of the time. Here it is applied to what Lourdes means for so many people.

I will extend prosperity to her like a river…As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you…

In the passage, they are the words of God, but here it is through the Mother of Jesus that the promise is made. And many have discovered that it is really true.

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Commentary on Romans 5:1-5; Mark 16:15-20

The Gospel comes from the very end of Mark, a section that some scripture scholars hold does not really belong to the original text, but was added later and, in fact, it echoes passages from the other Gospels, especially Matthew (the original Mark Gospel predates that of Matthew).

Nevertheless, one can see why it was chosen as the Gospel for today’s feast.  The first part of today’s reading is said to contain words spoken by Jesus while eating with his disciples in the Upper Room after the Resurrection.  The Apostles receive their mandate from Jesus to go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News to “the whole creation”.  It is reminiscent of similar words found in Matthew where they are spoken just before the Ascension.

Jesus then promises that belief in him and his message will bring signs:

…by using my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.

In the second part, we are told that the Lord Jesus then ascended to his Father and, as his followers carried out his commands, the things he promised did indeed take place as a confirmation of the truth of their message.

The relevance to Blaise is clear.  Many miracles and wonders were attributed to him—the healing of the sick and being able to live safely in the company of wild animals. The Lord continues to work wonders today although they are not often literally miraculous events, but experiences which may even be more influential in the lives of people.  Perhaps we have had or seen such experiences ourselves.

The First Reading is a lovely passage from Paul’s Letter to the Romans.  He reminds his hearers of all the wonderful graces that have come through living their lives in faith and hope:

…our hope of sharing the glory of God.

He even tells them to rejoice in their sufferings, not because they are pleasurable, but because suffering properly accepted teaches endurance and inner strength.  Endurance shows that we have risen to the test, the test of our faith in the Lord Jesus.  And our ability to do this is the basis for our hope, a hope that will one day be vindicated.

And it is not an empty hope:

…because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

This is a passage which was lived by Blaise, who faced every kind of torment and, in the end, did not hesitate to give his life, following the example of his Lord.

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Commentary on Zechariah 9:9-10; Romans 8:9,11-13; Matthew 11:25-30

There are two apparently contradictory sides to the Gospel.  On the one hand, there are very radical demands made on us in the following of Jesus. An example of these ‘hard sayings’ was the Gospel of last Sunday:

Whoever loves father or mother…son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. (Matt 10:37-38)

Luke’s Gospel in particular emphasises the absolute and unconditional demands made of the Christian disciple. Before making the decision of becoming a disciple of Christ, sit down and count the cost because:

…none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions. (Luke 14:33)

Following Christ is all or nothing, you cannot at the same time serve God and long for material possessions and all the things that money can buy.

Yet that passage from Luke’s Gospel is followed immediately in chapter 15 by the three stories of God’s longing to bring back the sinner: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost (prodigal) son.  In other words, another side of the Gospel speaks with equal emphasis of God’s warmth, compassion and his desire for reconciliation with the weak and the sinful.

Finding the balance
So if you found last week’s readings rather demanding, they need to be balanced against the passages into today’s Mass.  It would be wrong to come down too much on either side.  The Gospel still calls for total giving of self, not as the denial of that self, but as the only way to find one’s true self.  At the same time, our God is a God of infinite patience and compassion as we stumble along in our efforts to unite ourselves fully with him.

The theme of today’s readings is very much one of peace and consolation.  The First Reading from the prophet Zechariah speaks of a king entering Jerusalem riding on a young donkey. The scene is one of humility, but also of peace.  He rides on a placid donkey rather than on a prancing war horse.  This is confirmed later in the words:

He will cut off the [war] chariot from Ephraim
and the war horse from Jerusalem;
and the battle bow [of war] shall be cut off…

Our king is a king of peace:

…he shall command peace to the nations…

He is a king of peace, not just in the sense of an external absence of violence, but of a deep, inner peace, i.e. shalom.  Jesus, who is identified with the king in Zechariah’s passage, also brings peace.  He is the Prince of Peace (Jesus also brings the ‘sword’, but this is not contradictory, as we will see below). In today’s Gospel, he says:

Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Through the tough times
Whatever demands Jesus may make on our following of him, he wants to be at all times truly a source of comfort, of consolation and of forgiveness and reconciliation.  Whatever demands life may be making on us, he is there to be called on. When we are in difficulties and pain, we can ask him to take them away. He may not always do so, but we can expect him to restore our peace. And we need to remember that Jesus is not to be seen as an escape from our problems.  Sometimes he will give us peace, not from our pain, but within our pain. There can be the danger that we expect Jesus or his Mother or some other saint or the Church to be there to wave a magic wand that wipes away all our problems, all difficulties, all obstacles—and that is not the case.

Jesus’ own life is an excellent example.  In the garden of Gethsemane, faced with imminent arrest, torture and execution, he did not want to have to go through it.  This is a perfectly normal human reaction to the threat of death.  Anything else would be very strange. Yet one sometimes hears people speak as if Jesus actually wanted to go through all those terrible experiences. No, Jesus begged his Father to spare him going through this appalling ordeal. He prayed:

My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me…

But then he prayed:

…yet not what I want but what you want. (Matt 26:39)

The Father was silent, and his will was clear. Jesus should face what is coming.  And when sometime later, Jesus rises from his prayer, he is a very different person.  From that moment on and for the rest of his passion experience he reveals nothing but quiet dignity and strength in the face of all kinds of abuse and humiliation.

He is full of an inner peace, which had come once he had said that total ‘Yes’ to his Father.  His prayer in the garden had been answered, although not in the way he originally requested.

Here we might say we have the two sides of the Gospel coming together.  On the one hand, Jesus makes that absolute and total surrender of himself into God’s hands, but at the same time, experiences the ‘rest’ that comes to:

…all who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens…

Paul’s experience
There is a similar example from the life of Paul.  He had some kind of (physical?) ailment which was a source of great distress to him.  He felt that it was a serious hindrance to his work of proclaiming the Gospel. He says:

Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me… (2 Cor 12:8)

And, he says, God answered his prayer, but again not in the way he had asked.  He was told:

My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Cor 12:9)

His ailment, far from being an obstruction to preaching the Gospel, in fact made the power of Christ more visible.  From then on, Paul, far from wanting his problem to be removed, says:

…I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. (2 Cor 12:9)

Paul begins to realise that:

…whenever I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor 12:10)

And Paul found peace. To paraphrase Ecclesiastes (7:13), he had learnt, as we need to do, that ‘God writes straight with crooked lines.’

How different from the way we sometimes approach God, or Jesus, or Mary! We say, “God, give me this…God, I must have this or I can’t go on…Not your will, O Lord, but mine be done!  My will be done in heaven as I am trying to get it done on earth!”  Everything is upside down.  It is not surprising, then, that such prayers seem to go unanswered.

There are some things which can be changed in life, and it is up to us to do the changing, mainly by changing ourselves.  There are other things which cannot be changed and need to be accepted and lived with.  Peace comes from saying a sincere Yes to what is clearly God’s will in our life. This will of God is most often made known by the realities by which we are surrounded.  Peace comes when I want, really want, what God wants—when God’s will and mine coincide.  This is not passive fatalism; it is an active and joyful response.

Sharing the yoke
So Jesus says today:

Take my yoke upon you…and you will find rest for your souls….For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

A yoke we think of as a heavy (and very burdensome, even painful) piece of wood laid on the shoulders of an ox.  But because of the yoke, the ox can pull the weight of the cart behind it far more easily.  It is a burden which is also a help. The words of Jesus often seem, at first sight, to be very burdensome. John’s Gospel tells us that: 

When many of his disciples heard [his words], they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”…Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. (John 6:60,66)

Yet, in fact, once understood, we know that there can be no other way of living in true freedom and peace.

There is still another way of understanding the image of the yoke. Think of it as a double yoke, where two oxen can work together better. We now have a lovely image of Jesus and ourselves yoked together, pulling together.  “Take my yoke upon you” then becomes “Share my yoke with me”.  Where I go, he goes along with me, pulling together with me and making it all the easier.

There is really no conflict between the two sides of the Gospel. There is only one Jesus, only one Gospel. We are called to be with Jesus all the way, accepting his life vision, his standards, his values—unconditionally. This calls for the simplicity and openness of children rather than intellectual sophistication.  Accepting Jesus all the way is not intended as a burden, but as a source of comfort, peace, liberation and joy.

Happy are those who carry the ‘burden’, the yoke of the Gospel. Jesus has the secret of living well. Is it not time that we Christians discovered this wonderful secret and began to share it with others?

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Commentary on 1 Kings 19:9, 11-13; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

Today in the Gospel, we have a continuation of last week’s story about the feeding of thousands of people by Jesus in the desert. Immediately after the event, we are told that Jesus:

…made the disciples get into a boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.

Was there reluctance on their part to go? Certainly there is the implication that the disciples were not too willing to leave the scene. They were enjoying the reflected glory of being part of Jesus’ ‘miracle’ and the enthusiasm of the crowds for Jesus, ‘their’ Jesus. They were basking in the reputation of being partners with Jesus. Yet, it won’t be very long before they will be hiding, even denying under oath, ever having had connection with him.

Jesus himself, after having dismissed the crowds:

…went up the mountain by himself to pray.

In John’s version of this story he tells us that the people, after being fed by Jesus, actually wanted to make him their king. They, like the disciples, have totally missed the meaning of what has happened.

Here indeed was a real source of temptation. Jesus could easily have convinced himself that here was a golden opportunity to get control of the crowds and ‘save’ them. They were so ready to follow him—it seemed. The world was at his feet. There is an echo here of one of the temptations in the desert after his baptism:

…the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” (Matt 4:8-9)

Instead, Jesus flees to the shelter of the mountains, not to have a panorama of the world’s kingdoms, but to pray to his Father and renew his purity of heart and his commitment to the Father’s way. His power will be exerted through love and service and not through domination, control and popular appeal. Jesus’ work is not to be seen in terms of crowd-pleasing miracles or supernatural powers. It is primarily for him—as it is for us—in the quality of his relationships—with God, with people and with himself. Jesus’ mission—and ours—gets its significance in a life of service, sharing and community building, in the ‘Kingdom-ising’ of our environment. It does not consist in having power over others, in becoming an idol of the crowds.

Having a hard time
The story now switches back to the disciples. They are far out on the lake by now, battling with a heavy sea and fighting a strong headwind. It is quite clear that here we are seeing a parable of the Church itself, represented by the disciples in their fragile boat surrounded by hostile winds and waves. It was the common experience of the Church during its first centuries and, in many parts of the world today, continues to be the case. It was a situation to create, then as now, much fear and anxiety.

Then, all of a sudden, they see Jesus approaching them walking on the lake. Far from feeling reassured, they become even more terrified, thinking him a ghost. It is a measure of their superstitious natures and, as such, a measure of the long way they have to go in exorcising such superstitions and replacing them with a genuine faith in God. One still meets a great deal of such irrational fears in people, including Christians, today. For instance, how many of us here would be comfortable walking alone through a large empty cemetery on a dark, moonless night? Even though it would probably be a lot safer than walking down one of our city streets at such a time!

No need to fear
Then out of wind and wave and terror comes a comforting voice:

Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.

The disciples need courage whose source is their confidence and trust in the protection of their Lord. Through the words “It is I” (literally, ‘I AM’, in Greek, ego eimi), Jesus identifies himself with the saving power of God himself. They are the words spoken to Moses from the burning bush. As such, there is no need for fear or anxiety in spite of the apparently threatening dangers around them.

Characteristically, Peter is the first to respond. He is the impulsive one, but he is also the group’s leader:

Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.

“Come”, says Jesus, inviting him to leave the shelter of his boat and go to where the wind and waves are. Peter starts to make his way to the Lord, who is in the wind and the waves, but his fear is too much and he begins to sink. Peter cries:

Lord, save me!

This cry has been echoed by Christians all down the ages who have felt that the world was ready to crush them.

There is something for us to reflect on here: Jesus is not in the boat; he is in that hostile environment into which we often fear to enter and instead huddle in the security of our church. I think it is significant that Jesus is found outside the boat in the middle of the stormy sea, i.e. the world. And we have to go out there to meet him in spite of the dangers and possible setbacks. Too often we Christians spend much, if not all, of our time in the shelter of the boat, taking care of ourselves and neglecting those in the stormy sea who need to hear the words of life:

You of little faith, why did you doubt?

How often has Jesus had to say those words to each one of us?

Peace
Jesus and Peter now step into the boat and the wind drops. There is peace and calm. In Mark’s version of this story, the disciples are simply amazed at the sudden change, but do not draw the obvious conclusion. In Matthew’s version, however, they understand and believe. They even anticipate Peter’s later confession (in chap 16), saying:

Truly, you are the Son of God.

The conclusion, then, is that Jesus can also be found in the boat, but only when we also are ready to leave the shelter of the boat to find him in the ‘world’, that place which is at least indifferent and at its worst very hostile to the Christian vision.

Our own situation
All in all, today’s Gospel reflects problems in the early Church, problems which are not unknown to us today. From the inside there were always problems of unity, conflicting opinions, theologies and spiritualities. From the outside, there were persecutions and misunderstandings from both the Jews and the secular powers.

Paul, in the Second Reading, reflects what must have been something very painful to many Jews who had become followers of Christ, namely, the division and hostility of their fellow-Jews who had not converted. Even today, this relationship still causes pain.

Matthew also here features the special role of Peter, something he constantly stresses. Peter is the leader and so he is the one who steps out of the boat to go and meet Jesus in the midst of the storm. This surely is an image of the Church’s apostolic mission to reach out to find and make Christ present in the world, however hostile it may be. It is not the role of the Church to stay cowering in the shelter of their boat. One remembers the disciples after the death of Jesus hiding behind the locked doors. Pentecost soon changed all that and literally blew them out on a mission that would bring them and their successors to the remotest parts of the earth.

Of course, there are dangers in the world. And the Church, like Peter, is weak and vulnerable. But the Lord is there wherever we go and he will not allow his Church to sink beneath the waves. It has looked very often as if it might happen, but each time the Christian community has risen from the ashes stronger than before.

Jesus our peace
One important lesson of today’s readings is that, in our turbulent world (and much of the turbulence is in our own hearts), Jesus is the source of peace. Jesus told his disciples at the Last Supper:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you…Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. (John 14:27)

These words were spoken just before Jesus was to be arrested, tried and executed by his enemies. The ‘world’ cannot provide peace in such a situation, but Jesus can and does. It is for us to learn how to find the Jesus who gives peace in the ups and downs, in the storms of our own lives.

It is put beautifully in today’s First Reading where Elijah is told:

Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord.

And the Lord himself does pass by. But he was not in the wind “splitting mountains and breaking rocks”. He was not in the earthquake. He was not in the fire. However, he was in the “sound of sheer silence”, i.e. a gentle breeze, and Elijah knew that he was in the presence of the Lord. Jesus touches our cheeks with his gentle breezes every day, but we are too concerned about the buffeting winds, the earthquakes and the fires in our lives that attract both our attention and our fears.

Today’s readings, then, are saying two things to us:

• There is never any need for fear and anxiety, for Jesus is always close to us and, no matter what may be happening in and around us, his peace is there for us to share. A Buddhist saying captures it: “Why worry? If I worry, I die. If I don’t worry, I die. Why worry?”
• We have to reject the ambitions and dreams of the world and separate ourselves from them (as when Jesus went into the mountains to pray) but, at the same time, that world which both attracts and threatens is the arena where we are to live out our mission to build the Kingdom of God. We are called to be “not of the world”, a counter-witness to its ways, but to be “in the world”, as taste-giving salt and growth-giving leaven. We are to lead people to that moment when they can fall to the ground before Jesus present and active in their lives and say with full recognition:

  Truly, you are the Son of God.

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Commentary on Isaiah 55:10-11; Romans 8:18-23; Matthew 13:1-23

There are three distinct parts in today’s Gospel: parable, interlude, and explanation of the parable. A way of looking at this division is to regard the parable as being close to the actual words of Jesus. This is followed by a theological ‘interlude’ on ‘hearing’ and finally there is an interpretation of the parable possibly emanating from the early Church and, in effect, producing a related but distinct lesson or message.

In the parable itself, the emphasis is on God (the sower) who works and produces results. The interpretation of the parable puts the emphasis more on us (the soil) and the ways in which we can respond. The interlude or comment in between gives the key to our response and subsequent fertility of the seed.

God’s munificence
The parable has strong links with the First Reading from Isaiah. In both we are told that God shares his abundance with us and his plans will not be frustrated. God’s creative and nurturing work is compared with rain and snow falling on the earth and not returning until it has given moisture,

…making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater…

In the parable, it is true that the seed falls many times on inhospitable soil, but some will undoubtedly fall on rich soil and produce an abundant harvest. Says the Lord in Isaiah:

…so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

This is clearly a message of hope for communities which may at times be discouraged by the meagre results of their evangelisation efforts. We are reading here from Matthew 13. The whole chapter consists of “parables of the Kingdom”. They all say in different ways that the Kingdom of God, in spite of its tiny and weak beginnings, will be established for it is “like a treasure hidden in a field” or “a pearl of great value”. Once discovered, all else is given up in order to be part of it.

In the whole of Scripture, God’s word is not just a spoken word. It is a ‘doing word’—a creating, life-giving word. It is like a life-bearing seed. Where do we encounter that word? If we are sufficiently sensitive, we encounter it unceasingly in every experience of our lives, whether that experience is joyful or sad, a success or a failure, pleasant or painful.

For us, there is one place in particular where God’s word is more clearly experienced, and that is in Jesus Christ—for Jesus is the Word of God. Everything that Jesus said, everything that Jesus did, was God communicating to us through him. Not just his teaching, but his whole life, from the hidden years of Nazareth through his public life to his death and resurrection—in all of this Jesus was, and is for us today the Word of God.

Barren soil
And yet, as in the parable of today’s Gospel, much of that Word fell on barren soil. Many refused to hear or to see (hence so many cases of deafness and blindness in the Gospels). Even Jesus’ closest disciples did not provide, at first, very promising soil. Jesus’ life and mission seemed to end in tragic and dismal failure. There was not a single disciple in sight. His enemies laughed and mocked him. And yet, it was precisely at the moment when the seed “falls into the earth and dies” (see John 12:24), that the Word of God began to take root in people’s hearts. At that moment, like the tiny mustard seed, like the small amount of yeast in a large batch of dough, the seed—the Word of God—began to grow and flourish against all odds. As Isaiah says in the first reading:

…so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

As with Jesus himself, so too is it with us today—we need to be reminded that God’s plans will not be frustrated, that the Kingdom will be established.

Let anyone with ears listen!! (Matt 11:15)

Why speak in parables?
The middle part of the Gospel reading contains some apparently alarming words. Is Jesus saying that he spoke in parables so that only his inner circle would understand and that the rest be left in darkness? That hardly makes sense. It does provide a bridge to the interpretation of the parable to follow. There seems, especially in the quotation from Isaiah, a heavy sarcasm. Those who see, but never understand; those who hear, but never get the message. Why? Not because they are stupid, but because they basically do not want to. If they saw, if they really heard, they might be converted—they might have to change their ways radically—and that is the last thing they want to do. In the context of Matthew’s Gospel, these words seem particularly directed at those of his people who rejected Jesus, but it applies to all who close their ears in prejudice and fear.

But to his disciples and followers Jesus says:

But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear.

Many before Jesus’ time longed to see and hear, but never had the privilege of Jesus’ followers. The key word today is ‘hear’. It is a very scriptural word and contains essentially four elements:

• to listen with a totally open and unconditional mind;

Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.

• to understand what one hears;
• to accept and appropriate fully what one understands;
• to have this acceptance flow out into our behaviour.

One can listen, but not understand, one can understand without accepting, and one can accept without implementing. All four are necessary for conversion and healing; all four are necessary for full hearing.

Different responses
All of this leads naturally into the third part: an interpretation of the parable on the level of different kinds of hearing. Some seed falls on the path. There is no soil here. There is no prospect of the seed taking root. Ears and eyes are closed and unreceptive to the Word of God.

The seed falls on rocky ground in the field where there is a thin layer of soil. The seed takes root and begins to grow, but soon gets burnt up by lack of water and the heat of the sun. It is like those Christians who, after baptism or after a retreat or some spiritual experience, have a great rush of enthusiasm for God, but under the slightest pressure, soon run out of steam and fall away. Probably there was no real hearing, no real understanding and hence no real commitment. This group, in the text of the Gospel, may be referring to people who became baptised Christians in the early Church, and were full of enthusiasm until faced with persecution for their faith. They caved in and gave up.

Some seed also falls on soil where there are many weeds and thorns. As it grows, it gets smothered by the competing plants. This we might call the ‘having your cake and eating it’ response. I do want to be a good Christian, but I also want to have all the things that the world around me thinks important, even if they are in conflict with the gospel vision. This won’t work. We cannot at the same time totally serve God and be a part of the materialistic, consumerist, hedonistic, success’-hungry world. Probably a very large number of us, in varying degrees, belong in this category. As a result, the Church’s work in building the Kingdom is severely hampered.

Finally, some of the seed falls in rich, nutritious soil. This soil is like the:

…one who hears the word and understands it [i.e. the Word of God]

He is the one “who indeed bears fruit” in varying degrees of abundance.

What is my response?
In the long run, as we said at the beginning, the work of God cannot be frustrated either by threats from society or from within the Christian community. But what matters for me as I hear this Scripture is to be aware that I, as this individual, can refuse to provide the fertile patch of soil for God’s Word to take deep root. God’s plan as a whole will succeed, but it is up to me to be part of that plan. I personally can say ‘no’ or ‘not yet’ or ‘yes’, but I can also, like many of the people that Jesus knew, resist the radical change of view that conversion entails. In the process I will also miss out, of course, on the deep healing that the Word of God can bring into my life and, with the healing, a sense of liberation, happiness and peace.

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Commentary on 1 Kings 3:5,7-12; Romans 8:28-30; Matthew 13:44-52

We have today the third and final set of readings centred on the parables of the Kingdom from Matthew chapter 13. If you have not read last Sunday’s reflection you might like to go back and refresh your memory on what is understood here by the “kingdom of heaven” (i.e. of kingdom of God).

We are again presented today with three parables, two of which are closely linked in meaning, but with slight differences. The people of Jesus’ time would have understood them all very easily, as they were drawn from scenes of everyday life with which they were perfectly familiar.

The first and second parables are in effect saying that to know God and to live according to the gospel are the most precious things in life. Through Jesus and the gospel we come to know and understand what is the real meaning of life, what are the most important things in life.

Discovering a treasure
In the first parable Jesus compares entering the Kingdom to a man who finds treasure in a field. We need to remember that in those days, ordinary people did not have banks. Only the rich had access to places where their possessions were secure. If ordinary people did have valuable things, the simplest and safest thing was to hide them under the ground. Of course, because of war or some other unforeseen calamity, they might have to leave a place suddenly and not be able to take their belongings with them. They might not be able to return or they might die before they could do so. Someone else, then, might stumble on their treasure and, according to Jewish law, the finder could regard it as his own.

In this parable, the man comes across the treasure, but the field where it is hidden does not belong to him. He sells everything he has in order to buy the field and hence of its buried treasure. The obvious idea is that when one really discovers Jesus and his vision of life, everything else becomes secondary. In the service of the Kingdom there are no half measures, and in that service there is a special kind of liberating joy. This was Paul’s experience:

…I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ… (Philippians 3:8)

And again:

For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. (Philippians 1:21)

To have a personal relationship with Christ and to have made his view of life one’s own is the most beautiful, the most precious thing in the world. It is not enough, of course, just to say this; one must personally experience it as a fact—as many have done, and unfortunately, as many others have never really tried to do.

In search of treasure
The second parable is similar. A businessman is looking for fine pearls. When he finds the one he wants, he sells everything else he has in order to acquire it.

A slight, if significant, difference has been pointed out between the two stories. In the first, the man was not actually looking for the treasure. Perhaps he found it while digging the ground or ploughing the field, that is, in the course of his ordinary working day. Jesus—and the real meaning of Jesus—may come to me unexpectedly through some daily experience. Many people have described their conversion to Christ as happening in such an unexpected way. There is a need, as the Gospels constantly urge, for us to be ready whenever and however Jesus comes into our lives.

In the second parable, however, the man is on the lookout for the “pearl of great value”. He knows it must exist and he uses all his energies to find it. Although we are baptised Christians, we still need to constantly pursue the true and full meaning of the gospel which can escape us for many years. We always need to understand more, to love more and to serve more.

Example of Solomon
It is in this context that we can take a look at the First Reading from the First Book of Kings. The young King Solomon is told by God:

Ask what I should give you.

It is a question that Jesus sometimes asks in the Gospels and he is asking it of me in today’s Mass. How am I going to answer? What do I most want to have or to be right now? We can make a good guess at what a lot of people, including ourselves, would be likely to ask. For many it would be likely to have some connection with money or material security. But Solomon asked:

Give your servant, therefore, an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil, for who can govern this great people of yours?

In other words, he asked for wisdom and discernment. Wisdom is much more than knowing a lot of things or having prestigious university degrees. Being endowed with wisdom is much more than being just a morally very good person. Wisdom gives an insight into what is truly important in life, an awareness of the meaning and purpose of living, of what really matters. It is an understanding of where our real well-being and happiness lies.  That is indeed a “pearl of great value”—priceless in every sense of the word.

Wisdom as seeing
Solomon did not ask for wealth, or power, although these things came to him. He did not ask just to have things, or to have obstacles in his life removed. He asked to be able to see. A constant theme running through the Gospels is the healing of blind people and of the incurable blindness of those who thought they could see. The true disciple is the one who begs Jesus:

Lord, let me see… (Luke 18:41)

The one who sees is the one who has wisdom. The one who has wisdom knows how to cope with the situations of life, whether they bring ease or difficulty, pain or joy.

This is what Solomon asked for and this is what God gave him:

Because you have asked this and have not asked for yourself long life or riches or for the life of your enemies but have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right, I now do according to your word. Indeed, I give you a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you, and no one like you shall arise after you.

And, of course, the ‘wisdom of Solomon’ is a by-word down to our day.

This is the “treasure hidden in a field” for which a man sells everything to have; this is the fine “pearl of great value” for which a merchant sells everything he owns in order to get it. The ability to see is what opens the door to the Kingdom of God, that world of interlocking relationships between God, human beings and our world which brings to all security, happiness and peace. For here there is truth, here there is love and caring, here there is freedom and peace.

For much of the time, we are chasing false treasures, mainly money, status and pleasure. For much of the time we are locked into the past—full of nostalgia or regrets, or focused on the future—not yet achieved longings and desires, or depressing fears and anxieties. Meanwhile the enriching present passes us by and the treasure is never discovered and the really valuable pearl is never found.

A mixed bag
This brings us to the third parable today. While the first and second parables speak of the total commitment and dedication which are the ideal of every follower of Christ, this third parable helps to put our two feet firmly back on the ground. While the ideals are valid and still beckon us, they must not lead us into any form of elitism. This parable reminds us that the Church and even the Kingdom in the process of its evolution is full of all kinds of people. Our Church is a Church of both saints and sinners. And we might say it is primarily for sinners:

…Those who are well have no need of a physician but those who are sick; I have not come to call the righteous but sinners. (Mark 2:17)

The role of the Church is to accept into its bosom and to lead to the “treasure” and “the pearl of great value”:

…the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame. (Luke 14:21)

The lesson of this parable is similar to that of the weeds growing up with the wheat (see Matt 13:24-43), namely, that the kingdom is a mixed body of saints and sinners (good and rotten fish). There will be always be a temptation on the part of some who feel they are more ‘faithful’ to separate themselves from the ‘bad eggs’ or from the ‘weeds’, but Jesus is here telling us that is the work of God in his own good time. In the meantime, it is for us to learn to be tolerant, compassionate and understanding of those who seem to fall far below the requirements of the gospel and the Kingdom. And, as we said in discussing the parable of the weeds, there are very few of us who are not, in the one person, a mixture of the good and the rotten. If there are some who clearly do fall by the wayside, we can sincerely say, along with Saint Augustine:

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

Judgment is for later; right now, it is for us to use the time given to us to go in search of the “treasure” and the “pearl of great value”—of the gift to be able to identify, with Jesus, the really true, the good and the beautiful, and to help others too in the same search.

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Commentary on Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 4:6-9; Matthew 21:33-43

Today’s parable is linked to last Sunday’s about the two sons sent to work in their father’s vineyard. One promised to go and work there, but he did not actually go. The other at first refused but later relented and went. The message of Jesus is clear (especially in the context of Matthew’s Gospel).

God’s people had disappointed their God. It was the formerly sinful Gentiles who took on the task of building the Kingdom. This should not be understood as anti-Jewish. On the contrary, this was being written by Christian Jews for Christian Jews and it must have been a painful thing for them to see and accept.

Poor tenants
Today we have a parable saying more or less the same thing. Strictly speaking, it is not a parable, but an allegory. A parable normally presents one lesson and the details are not relevant; while, in an allegory, each detail of the story has a symbolic meaning.

The message clearly is that God’s people have been poor tenants in the Lord’s vineyard. However, we read this not to sit in judgement on certain people in the past. We must be careful to be aware of the relevance of this parable for our own situation. We are not reading it for historical reasons but for reflection on our own lives and behaviour.

The Lord’s vineyard
Both the First Reading and the Gospel focus on the Lord’s vineyard, that is, the place where God’s people are to be found. At first, Jesus chose the Israelites to be his own people. He was with them on their wanderings in the desert on the way to “a land flowing with milk and honey”. The Lord asks in the First Reading:

What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it?

But the response of the people/tenants in the vineyard was far from the expectations of the master of the vineyard:

When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield rotten grapes?

In Jesus’ story, the owner sends his servants to collect the harvest. Instead, the tenants seized, beat, stoned and even killed the owner’s messengers. This happened again and again. The message is clearly understood by Jesus’ hearers. The Lord had sent his prophets to remind his people of their duty to serve, to be a fruitful people. Yet, one by one, God’s messengers were rejected.

No respect even for the son
Finally, the owner’s own son was sent. The owner said:

They will respect my son.

But no. He also was seized, thrown out of the vineyard and killed. They could now take over the vineyard for themselves. It reminds one of the arrogance of our first parents who thought the knowledge of good and evil would give them power over God; of those who tried to build a tower that would reach right to the heavens. And the killing of the son “outside the city” is a clear reference to Jesus dying on the cross outside the walls of Jerusalem.

Called to the Lord’s vineyard
Today, we are God’s people. We are the tenants in the vineyard. Now he expects us to produce fruit, fruit that will endure. The obvious question for us to ask ourselves today is: How are we doing? Are we any better than the chief priests, the elders, the Scribes and the Pharisees? We are specially privileged, by baptism, to be called to work in the Lord’s vineyard. Each week we are invited to gather together to hear the Gospel message and to make it part of our lives. We are all called to be members, active members of the Body of Christ, the Christian community, the Church.

Many martyrs
How do we see this call? Do we find it a privilege, a blessing, or a troublesome burden? How well have we received the message of the Lord?

Over the centuries, how many prophets in our Christian communities have been rejected, abused and even killed? We think of Joan of Arc, Thomas More, Oliver Plunkett and, in our own recent times, Bishop Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King, the countless victims of violence all over our world.

All these martyrs have one thing in common. They were killed not by pagans, but by fellow-Christians, tenants in the Lord’s vineyard. We can hardly feel superior to the people Jesus is criticising in today’s Gospel. Isaiah’s words in the First Reading are so true. The Lord:

…expected justice but saw bloodshed; righteousness but heard a cry!

In so many parts of the world, we do not have to go far to see the relevance of those words.

What kind of grapes?
Even so, we may feel we have not personally been part of any of this. Yet, what kind of grapes do we as a parish community produce? Are they sweet and luscious, or are they pinched and sour? Is our parish a real sign of Jesus’ presence and love in this part of our city? What kind of impact do we have?

Are we living out the words that Paul proposes to the Christians of Philippi in today’s Second Reading:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

And he goes on:

As for the things that you have learned and received and heard and noticed in me, do them…

These last words are quite a challenge for all of us. But if we can live them out, then, says St Paul:

…the God of peace will be with you.

Parish vineyard
Our parish community is our vineyard. It must not produce sour grapes that no one can eat. It must be open to the various ways the Lord speaks to it, whether those people are Church leaders or prophetic voices which may sometimes say things which are painful to hear.

There is always a temptation for a parish to become a security blanket for those who do not want to face up to the challenges facing every society. When that happens, it tends to cling to old, fixed ways of doing things and to resist change. People who propose changes that are necessary in serving a constantly changing society may be resisted and resisted very strongly. Each parish can find itself producing its core of “chief priests and elders” (who, by the way, may not be the clergy) who will make sure that prophetic voices (who may or may not be the clergy) and people with real vision will be effectively blocked.

It is just as easy for us in these times to fail to recognise the voice of God in the messengers he sends us, just as the Jewish authorities of Jesus’ time failed to recognise the Word of God in him. More than 100 years ago, Cardinal Newman said:

To live is to change; and to be perfect is to have changed often.

If we are not really making sure that our vineyard produces rich grapes, not only for us but for others, too, to enjoy, then we are falling short as “tenants”. It may well happen that the Lord would ask others to come and take our place.

If our church was closed down, sold off and turned into a dance hall, what real difference would it make to our district? Of course, we who come here regularly would miss it, but what of others who never step inside? Are we really concerned about that impact or do we think more of our own personal religious obligations and needs? Do we measure the quality of our parish by what goes on in our church building or by what happens when we leave it? Obviously, both are important but there cannot be one without the other.