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Commentary on Revelation 7:2-4,9-14; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12

The Solemn Blessing prayed during the Mass for today’s Feast of All Saints is:

God’s holy Church rejoices that her children are one with the saints in lasting peace.

As we come to the end of the Church year we celebrate this great feast of All Saints. It is important to emphasise from the beginning what we mean here by ‘saints’. Normally we apply the word to people of extraordinary holiness who have been canonised or beatified by the Church. Among them, each one has their favourites: St Francis of Assisi, St Therese of Lisieux, St Anthony, St Joseph, St Jude and so on.

But today’s feast uses the word ‘saints’ in a much wider sense. It refers to all those baptised Christians who have died and are now with God in glory. It also certainly includes all non-Christians who lived a good life sincerely in accordance with the convictions of their conscience. While we do not know how many people we are talking about, we know it is a very large number. Putting it another way, there is no way we can decide which people have made an irrevocable choice of rejecting what is true and good and have chosen to be alienated from God forever. But hopefully, their number is much smaller.

There is a third group which we will remember tomorrow, and they are those who have died, but still need a process of purification before they can come face to face with the all-holy God.

The Gospel chosen for today’s feast is interesting. It gives us what we know as the Eight Beatitudes from the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount. It is, in fact, a charter for holiness. When many people think of holiness, they think of keeping the Ten Commandments and perhaps some other requirements of the Church like going to Mass on Sundays or fasting during Lent. What we often tend to forget is that the Ten Commandments really belong to the Old Testament and are part of the Jewish law. Of course, they are still valid and Jesus said clearly:

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.
(Matt 5:17)

We might say that the Beatitudes are an example of that fulfilling. The Beatitudes go far beyond the Ten Commandments in what they expect of a follower of Christ, and yet the sad thing is that one hears of relatively few Christians saying that they base their lives on the Beatitudes. When we go to confession it is the Ten Commandments we normally refer to and not the Beatitudes. And this is sad, because it is clear from their position in Matthew’s Gospel that the Beatitudes have a central place. They are a kind of mission statement saying what kind of person the good Christian will be.

Let us look at them briefly, but first we need to clarify a few of the terms used. The word ‘blessed’ is sometimes translated ‘happy’. It might be more accurate to translate it as ‘fortunate’. In other words, people who have these qualities are really in an envious position. All of these beatitudes are indications that we belong to the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’. This is to be understood not as a place, still less as referring to life after death. It rather describes the kind of society that exists when we live according to these values—a place of truth and love, of compassion and justice, of peace, freedom and sharing.

The general message is that those are really blessed when they know their dependence on God and on their sisters and brothers—when they commit themselves totally to the Way that Christ invites them to follow.

The Gospel says that particularly blessed are:

• Those who are poor in spirit: They are those who are aware of their basic poverty and fragility and of how much they need the help and support of God as opposed to those who foolishly claim independence and full control of their lives.
• Those who are meek: These are the people who reach out to others in care and compassion and tenderness, who constantly are aware of the needs of others.
• Those who mourn: Those who are in grief or sorrow for whatever reason will be assured of comfort from the loving community in Christ they have entered.
• Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness: Whatever the price, these people will work that everyone will be given what is their due to live a life of dignity and self-respect. The price they may have to pay could be high, very high, even life itself.
• Those who are merciful: They are the ones who extend compassion and forgiveness to all around them.
• Those who are pure in heart: This does not refer to sexual purity, but rather to a simplicity and total absence of duplicity, prejudice or bias. Not surprisingly, they are described as being able to see God. For such people, God’s presence is all too obvious in every person and experience.
• Those who are peacemakers: This is perhaps one of the most beautiful of the Beatitudes. These are people who help to break down the many barriers which divide people—whether it is class, occupation, race, religion, gender or anything that creates conflict between individuals or groups. Not surprisingly, these people are called “children of God”. God sent Jesus among us precisely to break down the barriers between God and his people and between people themselves.
• Those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness: Persecution of itself is not a pleasant experience, and may result in loss of life. But blessed indeed are those who have the strength and courage to put the values of truth and love and justice for all above their own survival. Among the saints we most honour today are the martyrs, those who gave their lives in the defence of truth, love and justice.

This is the kind of Christian we are all called to be. It is these qualities which made the saints and which will make saints of us too. They go far beyond what is required by the Ten Commandments. If taken literally, the Commandments can be kept and not with great difficulty. Many of them are expressed in the negative, “You shall not…” So we can observe them by doing nothing at all! “I have not killed anyone… I have not committed adultery… I have not stolen…” Does that make me a saint?

Being a Christian is a lot more than not doing things which are wrong. The Beatitudes are expressed in positive terms. They also express not just actions, but attitudes. In a way, they can never be fully observed. No matter how well I try to observe them, I can always go further. They leave no room for smugness, the kind of smugness the Pharisees had in keeping the Law. The Beatitudes are a true and reliable recipe for sainthood.

The Second Reading reminds us today:

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.

Saints are not self-made people. They are people who have responded generously to the love of God showered on them. And the completion of that love is to be invited to share life with God forever in the life to come.

The Second Reading also says:

…what we will be has not yet been revealed.

We do not know, and have no way of knowing, what that future existence will be like, and it does not help very much to speculate. In fact, some of the conventional images of heaven are not terribly exciting! Kneeling on clouds and playing harps for eternity—partly derived from a too literal reading of the book of Revelation—is not exactly a turn-on!

It is better to go along with St Paul who says that life face to face with God is something totally beyond our comprehension. Let us rather concentrate on the life we are leading now and let it be a good preparation for that future time.

Indeed, the First Reading from the book of Revelation presents an apocalyptic vision of those who have died in Christ. They are numbered at 144,000—a number taken literally by some Christian sects. However, the number is clearly symbolical. It consists of the sacred number 12, squared and multiplied by another complete number, 1,000. It simply represents the total of all those who have died faithful to Christ their Lord. They represent “every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages”, for access to Christ is open to all. They are dressed in white robes with palms in their hands. They are the robes of goodness and integrity. The palms of victory are a reference to the joyful Jewish feast of Tabernacles, for these are the ones invited to live in God’s tent or tabernacle.

Together with them are the angels, the 24 elders (perhaps representing the 12 patriarchs and the 12 Apostles) and the four living creatures (a very high rank of angels), all prostrate in adoration before the glory of God. The song they sing has been magnificently set to music by Handel in his “Messiah”. Praise, glory, wisdom, thanks, honour, power and strength are seven attributes of perfect praise.

And who are these people in white robes?

These are they who have come out of the great ordeal…

In other words, they are those who have been through persecution, particularly the persecution of Nero, which occurred about the time this book was written. And, paradoxically:

…they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

It is the blood of Jesus Christ which brings salvation, but only to those who have united with him in sharing its effects. Many of them, of course, are martyrs and they have mingled their own blood with that of Jesus.

It is a picture of total victory, and the end of all the pains and sorrows they endured in this life. It is not a newspaper reporter’s description of heaven!

Today’s feast is first of all an occasion for great thanksgiving. It is altogether reasonable to think that many of our family, relatives and friends who have gone before us are being celebrated today. We look forward to the day when we, too, can be with them experiencing the same total happiness when:

They will hunger no more and thirst no more;
the sun will not strike them,
nor any scorching heat,
for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
(Rev 7:16-17)

Today is a day also for us to pray to them—both the canonised and the uncanonised—and ask them to pray on our behalf that we may live our lives in faithfulness so that we, too, may experience the same reward.

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Commentary on Baruch 1:15-22

The Book of Baruch is one of the deutero-canonical (or ‘apochryphal’) books not found in the Hebrew or Protestant Bible. The Greek Bible puts it between Jeremiah and Lamentations, but the Vulgate has it immediately after Lamentations, where it is also found in our Catholic Bibles.

According to its introduction (see Bar 1:1-14), it was written in Babylon by Baruch after the deportation and sent to Jerusalem to be read at liturgical gatherings. The opening verses of this book ascribe it, or at least its first part, to Baruch, well-known as the secretary of the prophet Jeremiah. It contains five very different compositions, the first and the last in prose, the others in poetic form. The prose sections were certainly composed in Hebrew, though the earliest known form of the book is in Greek.

Today we have the first of two readings from the book. It is the beginning of what is called The Prayer of the Exiles, the exiles being those Jews who were deported to Babylon from Judah and Jerusalem by King Nebuchadnezzar in the 6th century BC. As the passage seems to belong to a much later date, it may rather reflect the feelings of a later community who saw in their own situation a similarity with those exiles.

The author had begun his book by saying:

These are the words of the book that Baruch son of Neriah son of Mahseiah son of Zedekiah son of Hasadiah son of Hilkiah wrote in Babylon, in the fifth year, on the seventh day of the month, at the time when the Chaldeans [Babylonians] took Jerusalem and burned it with fire.
(Bar 1:1-2)

The details he gives indicate the year 582 BC, probably in the fifth month—the anniversary of the fall of Jerusalem—which was doubtless commemorated among the exiles as it was in Palestine. Today’s passage is a general lament for the situation of the Israelites now living in exile, far from their homeland and from Jerusalem and its Temple, the home of Yahweh.

But there is no complaint against Yahweh for their condition. Their sufferings are due to one reason and one reason only—the people’s long history of not obeying the Lord and going their own way. This began from the days the Lord brought them out of Egypt right up to the present time:

We have disobeyed him and have not heeded the voice of the Lord our God, to walk in the statutes of the Lord that he set before us. From the time when the Lord brought our ancestors out of the land of Egypt until today, we have been disobedient to the Lord our God, and we have been negligent in not listening to his voice.

The writer compares the goodness and the integrity of God with that of his people. If they have suffered by being sent into exile, it is the result of their own sins and not the doing of the good God.

In our response to this reading we might reflect on how much of our own pain and misfortunes can be traced to our own behaviour, individually or corporately. It is so easy to blame God for our ills and use him as a scapegoat who will not strike back. But the first step in expressing our love of God must begin with a total acknowledgment of our own sinfulness.

Paradoxically, it is those who are most aware of their sinfulness who are closest to God—because an acknowledgment of sin is an awareness of a gap that needs to be closed. Those who deny their sin are the least likely to change and convert. But when we do suffer, the question to ask our God is not “Why me?”, but “What now?” How are we to turn this experience to a greater love of God and neighbour?

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Commentary on 2 Samuel 7:1-5,8-11,16; Romans 16:25-27; Luke 1:26-38 Read Sunday of Week 4 of Advent (Year B) »

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Commentary on Numbers 24:2-7,15-17

Today’s first reading is from the book of Numbers. It is from that part of the Bible (the five books of the Pentateuch) which deals with the Exodus from Egypt, the giving of the Law to Moses, the long trek through the desert for 40 years and the settling in to the Promised Land.

In today’s reading, the Israelites are close to reaching their destination, but understandably, their arrival is not welcomed by those already in possession of these lands. The reading features the strange character of Balaam. He was a prophet or diviner from Pethor, near the River Euphrates in Mesopotamia. He had been asked by Balak, king of the Moabites, to put a curse on the invading Israelites. Babylonia was renowned in those times for divination.

Although he was in Jewish terms a non-believer, not one of God’s people, Balaam does not seem to be able to carry out his mission, much to the surprise of Balak. Instead, he becomes an instrument of God’s plan. The author of Numbers puts four oracles in the mouth of Balaam and we have two of them, the third and fourth, in today’s reading. They are inserted rather artificially into the narrative with which they do not seem to have a direct connection.

Our reading opens by telling us that Balaam sees the Israelites, encamped according to their tribes. He then speaks, but the implication is that the words are not his own, and certainly not what he was expected to say. He describes himself as a “man whose eye is clear”, as “one who hears the word of God” and “who sees the vision of the Almighty” (from the Hebrew Shaddai), “with eyes uncovered”.

Earlier in the chapter (not in our reading), there had been the strange experience with his donkey. On his way to curse the Israelites, the donkey suddenly stopped and refused to go further because the way was blocked by an angel of the Lord. Even though he beat the animal severely, it refused to go forward. Eventually God spoke through the mouth of the donkey, and Balaam’s eyes were suddenly opened to the presence of God before him. The implication is that even Balaam’s donkey could see better than he could.

The words that flow from Balaam’s mouth speak in high praise of Israel and of its prosperous future:

How fair are your tents, O Jacob….
Like palm groves that stretch far away,
like gardens…like aloes…like
cedar trees beside the waters.

Here is an image of the “land flowing with milk and honey” which Yahweh had promised earlier. The lushness of their new home is reminiscent of the fertility and peace of Eden.

The oracle continues:

…his king shall be higher than Agag,
and his kingdom shall be exalted.

Agag, representing the Amalekite kings, will give way to a greater king from Israel, perhaps indicating Saul, Israel’s first king, whose victory over King Agag is described in the First Book of Samuel (chap 15). Or it may be a reference to Saul’s successor, David. In any case, it leads us on to the second part of today’s reading, which contains the fourth oracle of Balaam.

Much of this oracle is a repetition of the previous one. Balaam, being now able to see and now able to hear the word of God, is endowed with knowledge passed on to him by God. It is a statement which looks to the future, to a time when Israel will rule over the kingdoms on the east side of the Jordan—Moab and Edom—a prophecy realised under the reign of David. And what Balaam sees is leadership emanating from Israel. He says a “star shall come out of Jacob”, referring most directly to David.

But this oracle also points to the expected Messianic ruler who will bring the ultimate victory over the enemies of God’s people:

…a star shall come out of Jacob, and a
scepter shall rise out of Israel;
it shall crush the foreheads of Moab
and the heads of all the Shethites

And in that star, we clearly recognise Jesus, the One truly chosen by God as leader not only of Israel, but of the whole world. This is the star that the Magi followed until they came across the Child in the arms of his Mother.

The oracle shows how God wants to proclaim a wonderful future for his people before the whole world, coming from the mouth of a man who had been specially chosen to bring the curse of the gods on Israel. It is something we too need to consider. In the Gospel, the chief priests and elders found it difficult to hear the voice of God in the words and actions of Jesus. In our lives, too, Jesus can speak to us through very unexpected channels. We need to be constantly ready and make no exceptions.

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Commentary on Isaiah 63:16-17,64:1,3-8; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:33-37 Read Sunday of Week 1 of Advent (Year B) »

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Commentary on Isaiah 63:16-17, 64:1.3-8; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:33-37 Read Sunday of Week 1 of Advent (B)- Alternate Commentary »

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Commentary on Zechariah 2:14-17; Psalm: Luke 1:46-55; Matthew 12:46-50

The Gospel reading is from Matthew. It is a short, isolated passage between a number of separate incidents taking place between the discourse on the mission of the disciples (chap 10) and the discourse on the parables of the Kingdom (chap 13). Today’s passage concerns the family of Jesus.

There are slight differences between Mark’s account of this event and Matthew’s. As usually is the case, Matthew’s treatment is softer, more gentle, but Mark’s may be closer to the original.

Matthew says that, while Jesus was speaking to the crowds, he was told that his mother and his ‘brothers’ were outside, looking for him. ‘Brothers’ is normally understood here in a wider sense to include cousins (even today in some cultures it is quite common for people to talk about their ‘cousin brothers’ or ‘cousin sisters’). Jesus was told:

Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.

Jesus’ reply seems rather abrupt and unexpected, if not downright impolite, especially coming from him:

Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?

Then, stretching out his hand towards his disciples, he says:

Here are my mother and my brothers!

And he then defines what constitutes being a member of his family:

…whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.

Jesus, of course, is not being rude to his mother or the rest of his family. But he is making what he regards as a very important point, and it is put in other ways in other parts of the Gospel. To be a follower of Jesus is to belong to a new family, a family with stronger ties than flesh and blood. It is a family which is bound in love and obedience to God as Father, to Jesus as Brother, and committed to living according to the Way of Life they propose.

Part of that Way, of course, is unconditional love of every single person, including even enemies. Surely then, the members of one’s own family would be included. But if ever there was a conflict between what God wants and what a family member wants, then there is only one choice available.

In Mark’s account of this story (Mark 3:31-35), he tells us earlier in the chapter, that Jesus had gone “home” and implies that he was in a house. This unspecified house, mentioned a number of times, is a symbol of the place where Christ’s disciples gather together. It is significant that in today’s passage we are told that Jesus’ family members were ‘outside’, indicating they were outside in more ways than one. Jesus and his disciples are on the ‘inside’.

And where does Mary come into all of this? Was she an outsider? Hardly! The girl who made her unqualified commitment to God’s will at Nazareth, never once withdrew it. And she was one of the very few who was with her Son to his last dying breath. She was with him in every way.

I need to ask myself if I am truly a member of Jesus’ family.

The First Reading is a short passage from the prophet Zechariah. The passage is a song of praise for Israel, called here “daughter Zion”. But the words can very easily be applied to Mary, especially where the Lord says:

Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion! For I will come and dwell in your midst…

Then, the Lord says:

And you shall know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you.

Today’s feast, even if it may lack historical veracity, is full of meaning. It suggests that from her youngest days, Mary was being prepared for her unique role as the Mother of the Son of God, an extraordinary privilege shared by no other. At the same time, the real greatness of Mary is suggested in the Gospel where true greatness does not come from birth, but from the total giving of oneself to doing what God wants. In this Mary had no peer.

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Commentary on Matthew 18:21—19:1

The last part of Matthew‘s discourse on the church is about forgiveness. This is not unconnected with the previous section on excommunicating the unrepentant brother or sister. As soon as a brother or sister does repent, there must be forgiveness—not just once, but indefinitely—”seventy-seven times”.

The reason is given in the parable which Jesus speaks about the two servants in debt. The one who had a huge debt to the king was forgiven, but then refused to forgive a relatively trivial debt owed to him by a fellow servant. Understand that ten thousand talents then would be the equivalent of hundreds of millions in a major currency today, and the 300 denarii would have been the equivalent of about three months’ wages.

In the Gospel, the ones with the big debt to the king are clearly ourselves; the ones with the small debts to us are our brothers and sisters.

We do not expect God to forgive us once or twice or any limited number of times, but every time. It is nowhere written that we have, say, only ten chances of going to confession and, once our quota is used up, there is nothing left. But if that is true of our relationship with God, it also has to be true in our relationships with others. We can never refuse an offer of reconciliation. And, we might add, forgiveness is much easier to fully complete when reconciliation has taken place.

This is not at all the same as turning a blind eye to wrongdoing. Yesterday’s text made that very clear. We are talking about healing divisions between people; we must never put obstacles in the way of that.

We have now come to the end of this discourse indicated by the first sentence of chapter 19:

When Jesus had finished saying these things, he left Galilee and went to the region of Judea beyond the Jordan.

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Commentary on Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17; 1 Corinthians 15:20-26,28; Matthew 25:31-46

Today is the thirty-fourth and final Sunday of the liturgical year. Next Sunday we will start a new year with the First Sunday in Advent. As is the custom now, on this last Sunday of the year, we celebrate the feast of Jesus Christ our King. All during the past year we have been hearing the Gospel read to us and reflected on in Sunday (and weekday) homilies. Perhaps we have done some prayer reflection of our own. Today somehow sums up all that we have been hearing. The Jesus we have watched going around the towns of Galilee, Samaria and Judea, the Jesus we have watched teaching, healing, consoling, liberating is our Lord and King. He is the visible presence of God in our midst.

Contrasting images
There are two very contrasting images of Christ presented to us in today’s readings. In the Second Reading from the First Letter to the Corinthians Paul presents a powerful and awesome picture of Christ as Lord and King. As all have died because of the fall of Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. Christ is presented as the all-powerful ruler to whom every other power and authority must eventually give way:

For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

Christ represents life, life in all its fullness. And that life he wants to share with every single person.

The gentle shepherd
The other two readings, however, give a very different picture of God and Jesus, who is his visible incarnation. The First Reading presents God as a shepherd. We know that sheep, which are brought out onto hillsides to graze, can wander far in search of the best grass. This would be especially true in the arid hills of Palestine. Not only that, there will be sheep belonging to other shepherds out on the same hills and they can get mixed up with each other. The shepherd then spends considerable time looking after his own straying sheep and bringing them back.

God sees himself as such a shepherd:

I myself will search for my sheep and will sort them out.
As shepherds sort out their flocks
when they are among scattered sheep,
so I will sort out my sheep.
I will rescue them from all the places
to which they have been scattered
on a day of clouds and thick darkness.
I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strays,
and I will bind up the injured,
and I will strengthen the weak…

Jesus himself will pick up this image and will call himself the Good Shepherd. He will also compare God’s concern for the sinner with a shepherd who leaves behind ninety-nine good sheep to go in search of even one which has gone astray and got lost.

God’s bias
But there are others who will not be so well treated:

…the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them with justice.

God is biased. He is biased against those who exploit the weaker and poorer members in their society. Justice for God is not just based on moral rectitude. It is rather based on an equitable sharing and access to the resources available and necessary for a life of dignity and self-respect.

We remember the parable of the rich man clothed in purple and dining sumptuously every day. At the foot of his table sat a poor man, covered in sores, his wounds licked by dogs, a man who longed to have even the crumbs that fell from the table. Perhaps the rich man went to the temple regularly, perhaps he observed all the festivals and requirements of his religion. But he did nothing for the man at his feet. And that was his sin: he did nothing. And that in some ways is the greatest sin of all.

Standards of judgement
And that is precisely the point in the Gospel reading for today. The scene is the final judgement. Incidentally, this is not to be taken in too literal a sense. It is the meaning behind the scene which we are to focus on. It would be a worthless piece of speculation to imagine our encounter with God as taking place in any particular way analogous to life on earth. One wonders, too, if there is any real validity to the distinction sometimes made between the “particular” and the “general” judgements. The images of the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with hosts of angels are typical biblical images pointing to God’s awesome greatness and transcendence, and are not descriptions of some visual experience we might expect to have.

There will be two kinds of people coming for judgement, described respectively as ‘sheep’ and ‘goats’, the good guys and the bad guys. And how are the good and the bad guys to be distinguished from each other? It is quite obvious that both groups are very surprised at the criteria that Jesus presents.

Speaking first to the sheep, Jesus says:

Come, you who are blessed by my Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world,
for I was hungry and you gave me food,
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,
I was a stranger and you welcomed me,
I was naked and you gave me clothing,
I was sick and you took care of me,
I was in prison and you visited me.

Surprised reaction
The sheep are clearly very surprised. This is obviously not what they were expecting to hear. One gets the impression that they hardly remember doing these things, although definitely they had done at least some of them. And certainly they do not remember ever doing anything of the kind for Jesus:

Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food
or thirsty and gave you something to drink?
And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you
or naked and gave you clothing?
And when was it that we saw you sick
or in prison and visited you?

Were they even more surprised at the answer they got? And the King responds to them:

Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.

Then turning to the goats, whom he calls “accursed”, he condemns them for not doing any of the things he mentioned above and for not recognising Jesus in their brothers and sisters.

There are a number of things to notice here:

• none of the things Jesus mentions are religious in nature
• there is no mention whatever of any commandments being observed or violated
• people are condemned not for doing actions which were morally wrong, but for not doing anything at all
• the actions are done (or not done) to Jesus and not just for Jesus. In other words, Jesus is truly present in every person I meet. I am not just nice to this person (whom I may not care about very much) in order to do a “good act” which Jesus will reward and add to my bank account of “good works”. People cannot be used – even for spiritual purposes.

The really “good” Christian
To sum up, Jesus is saying that, if I wish to be counted among the sheep, then I must be an actively loving person, irrespective of the response I get to my love. This is the way God loves me. It is not enough just to fulfil obligations, religious or otherwise. It won’t do to say, “I am a good enough Catholic”. I am expected to keep going out of my way and reach out in love especially to those in need – the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the poor and naked, the sick and those in prison. It does not matter how they got sick (illness because of a sexually promiscuous lifestyle, overindulgence in alcohol or nicotine…) or why they are in prison (murder, rape, terrorism…). These people are especially to be loved because they are the most in need of having their lives turned round.

This is the King I am called to serve. And the way he wants to be served is for me to be filled with care and compassion for brothers and sisters everywhere, and especially for those who are furthest from him and those who are not experiencing the abundance with which he has filled this world. I serve by loving those who are materially, socially, psychologically, morally and spiritually poor.

The picture of the Judgement in the Gospel is not meant to fill us with fear and trembling. No, it is a challenge not about the future, but about today. The surest way to guarantee that I will be numbered among the sheep is for me to become right now a loving, caring, tolerant, accepting person:

Help me, Lord, to seek and find and respond to you
in every person and in every experience of this day.
Grant, Lord, that all my thoughts,
intentions, actions and responses may be directed solely
to your love and service this day.

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Commentary on Revelation 3:1-6,14-22

Today we read two more of the seven letters to the churches in the Roman province of Asia. These letters are addressed to the churches at Sardis and Laodicea.

Sardis
The first is to the Christian community in Sardis. Nowadays called Sart, Sardis was the capital of the ancient kingdom of Lydia, and at that time a city famous for its wealth. Its acropolis, which rose 500 metres above the valley below, was a natural fortress on the northern slopes of Mount Tmolus.

This letter is far more critical than the one we read yesterday to the Ephesians. Quite bluntly, the church in Sardis, which seems to be alive, is in fact spiritually dead. The people there are urged to rouse themselves before they die out completely (sadly, dying churches are by no means a new phenomenon—the problem goes back to the earliest days).

The letter comes from:

…him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars…

The seven “spirits” are the seven archangels which stand before God.

John can find nothing in their present way of living that could be commended, and reminds them of their enthusiasm at the time of their first conversion. They should go back to that and sincerely repent of the situation they have let themselves get into. Otherwise, the Lord will come on them like a thief, and that could mean some unpleasant experiences. This warning is not about the Final Coming as mentioned in the Gospels, but of something likely to happen sooner.

In spite of that, some have remained faithful. These:

…have not soiled their clothes; they will walk with me, dressed in white, for they are worthy [to go with the Lord].

Elsewhere in the book the faithful are also described as dressed in white. Their names will remain recorded in the “book of life”. In the Old Testament this referred to a register of all citizens in the kingdom community. To have one’s name removed from this book would indicate loss of citizenship in the kingdom.

Could we say that the letter to the Christians of Sardis in any way describes the church community to which we belong? Even though there are some external signs of church activity (e.g. going to church), how alive are we in reality? The answer will vary greatly from community to community.

The life the Letter speaks of is there for the asking—Jesus said:

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

But it is up to us both individually and collectively to take the steps needed to experience that life.

Laodicea
The second letter today is addressed to the church at Laodicea. It contains some of the most striking and lovely phrases from the whole book and is totally relevant to modern readers.

Now known as Pamukkale (in southwestern Turkey), Laodicea was, in Roman times, the wealthiest city in Phrygia. We are told it was especially known for its banking, its medical school, and its textile industry. Its major lack was that of an adequate water supply. These characteristics are all touched on in the passage that follows.

Again, the message comes through John from “the Amen”, meaning God, who is described as:

…the faithful and true witness, the origin of God’s creation…

Isaiah speaks of the “God of Amen”, usually translated “God of truth” or “God of fidelity”. God’s fidelity is clearly contrasted here with the behaviour of the Laodiceans. He is the “first” (arche) of all creation—either in the sense of being the ultimate source of God’s creation, or the first in rank above all creation.

John’s principal complaint against this church is its tepidity:

…you are lukewarm and neither cold nor hot…

“Hot” could be a reference to the hot spring in nearby Hierapolis. The church in Laodicea neither afforded the healing power of heat for the spiritually sick, nor the cool refreshment for the spiritually weary. And like a drink, which should be either piping hot or refreshingly cool, but is neither—God says:

…I am about to spit you out of my mouth.

The problem is that the Laodiceans are blinded by material wealth which conceals their spiritual poverty from them. They are both spiritually blind and naked. To remedy this situation they are urged:

…to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich…

These are the spiritual riches that have been thoroughly tested in time of trial. Then, they really will be rich.

In addition to that, they should fit themselves out with:

…white robes [of virtue] to clothe yourself and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen, and salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see.

Each of these three items in material form—their financial wealth (gold), their extensive textile industry (clothes) and a famous eye salve—were things of which the Laodiceans were particularly proud and renowned for.

Whatever sufferings come their way should not be a matter of concern for them. God tells them:

I reprove and discipline those whom I love.

This is a phrase taken from the Book of Proverbs:

My child, do not despise the Lord’s discipline
or be weary of his reproof,
for the Lord reproves the one he loves,
as a father the son in whom he delights. (Prov 3:11-12)

The Letter to the Hebrews also uses this text and enlarges on it (see Heb 12:5-11). As well, Paul tells the Corinthians:

But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.
(1 Cor 11:32)

It seems at first to be contradictory, and yet it is only when we are tested that our love can grow and mature. That is just as true of our relations with our parents as it is with God. The totally undisciplined child becomes ‘spoilt’ and sometimes flawed for life. And the trials we experience are often calls and reminders from God to redirect our lives more in his direction, in other words, to repent, to reform, to convert.

So the Lord tells the Laodiceans:

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and eat with you, and you with me.

This is one of the most beautiful images in the New Testament and it has been extended to encompass the desire that Jesus has to come into and be part of all our lives. But his coming in depends entirely on us.

One of the most famous representations of the scene is by the English artist, Holman Hunt. It shows Jesus, wearing the crown of a King and holding a lamp in his hand standing outside the door of a house waiting to be admitted. The picture is entitled, The Light of the World. What has often been pointed out is that the door has no handle on the outside. It can only be opened from the inside. Jesus will not force his way in; he will only enter at our invitation. He is there right now and will be there all during this day and every day. Are we going to invite him in or not?

The letter concludes with a promise that the victorious, that is, those who have successfully committed themselves to following Christ and living the Gospel, will sit with Jesus Christ just as Jesus himself sits with his Father. As we read in the Second Letter to Timothy:

If we have died with him, we will also live with him;
if we endure, we will also reign with him;
if we deny him, he will also deny us… (2 Tim 2:11-12)

Echoing the words of Jesus, the letter’s final words are:

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

Let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.

This letter is probably the most powerful of the seven, and the one which speaks most eloquently to our day. It warns us of the tepidity, the ‘I-am-a-good-enough-Catholic’ syndrome that can take hold of our lives and lead us to lead lives of spiritual complacency and even smugness. It reminds us of our basic poverty, even if—indeed especially if—we are doing extremely well on the material level. Furthermore, sufferings, failures and disappointments in our lives should not be seen as punishments from God. On the contrary, God is with us through these experiences and uses them to show his unwavering love for us. It needs a special insight to be able to see this.

Jesus our King is standing outside the door of our inner home and asking to be admitted. He wants to come in and share himself with us, but it is up to us to open that door.