JUUNE 25, 2006: TWELFTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings
Job 38:1, 8-11
II Corinthians 5:14-17
Mark 4:35-41

As a child I learned the difference between creating something and making something. If I'm making a bird house, for instance, I'll need some wood and tools to complete the job. If, on the other hand, I'm creating a bird house, I need nothing. I simply snap my fingers and the house appears.

The main problem with our make/create distinction is that it's non-biblical. Our sacred authors define creation not as bringing something out of nothing, but as bringing order out of chaos. Chaos is a given in life. Beginnings are always chaotic. Order comes from God. Today's first and third readings give us classic examples of the biblical creation process.

Notice first how God describes the creation process to Job. "Yahweh addressed Job out of the storm, 'Who shut within doors the sea, when it burst forth from the womb . . . when I set limits for it and fastened the bar of its door and said . . . here shall your proud waves be stilled?'"

Trying to demonstrate Jesus' divinity, Mark has him do something parallel to Yahweh's creative actions in Job. "He rebuked the wind and said to the sea, 'Quiet! Be still!' The wind ceased and there was great calm . . . . They were filled with great awe and said to one another, 'Who is this whom even wind and sea obey?'" Mark's readers know the answer: If he brings order out of chaos, Jesus must be Yahweh! Only Yahweh can put order into nature on such a large scale.

Paul operates from the same definition of creation as Mark and Job, but he takes it to a new level. "Whoever is in Christ," he writes, "is a new creation." For the Christian, creation isn't something which happens only at the beginning of time or during a storm on the Sea of Galilee. It takes place whenever someone imitates Jesus and steps into the chaos of giving oneself for another.

Like us, the Apostle believes nothing is more chaotic than death - the great unknown all of us will experience. It's the chaos which Jesus endured for us. "He indeed died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised."

Perhaps the key line is Paul's statement to the Corinthians, "From now on we regard no one according to the flesh; even if we once knew Christ according to the flesh, yet now we regard him so no longer . . . the old things have passed away; behold new things have come."

Those who make the entire, expanding universe their theological field - quantum theologians - often remind us that nothing significant comes forth in the universe without being preceded by great upheaval and chaos. Because it's a "law of nature," these theologians conclude that we only live peaceful lives if we bring about nothing new or good in those lives.

Christians believe the risen, creating Jesus is constantly coming to life among us. The life-giving order he engenders in our lives continually forces us to relate to others, no matter the chaos such relationships cause.

Very early in our lives, we learned to avoid chaos. The late Woody Hayes, for instance, rarely permitted his Ohio State quarterbacks to throw passes. "Three things can happen when you pass," the coach reasoned, "and two of them are bad!"

Some of us feel the same way about giving ourselves to others. Lots of bad things can happen when we do so. Yet the great thing about the new way of looking at reality which Jesus offers is that even when things don't go as we wish, when we practice such generosity, a new creation always comes out of the chaos. Hayes' philosophy might have served him well on the football field, but when we employ it in our life of faith, it simply guarantees we'll never be the creation God wants us to be.

JUNE 18, 2006: THE BODY AND BLOOD OF CHRIST

Readings
Exodus 24:3-8
Hebrews 9:11-15
Mark 14:12-16, 22-26

Marcan scholars point out a small, but significant action in today's gospel passage. Many people overlook it when they hear his version of Jesus' "words of institution." "Jesus took a cup, gave thanks and gave it to them and they all drank from it."

Given the context of a Passover meal, everyone sitting around the table with Jesus that night had his or her own cup in front of them. According to the Seder ritual, they took several ritual drinks from it. But at this point in the meal, Jesus departs from the official rubrics and tells them not to use their cups for the next drink. They're to drink from his personal cup, the cup over which he said the words, "This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many."

Of course, when Jesus employs the term "blood of the covenant," he can only be referring to the scene depicted in today's Exodus reading. "Taking the book of the covenant, Moses read it aloud to the people, who answered, 'All that Yahweh has said, we will heed and do.' Then he took the blood and sprinkled it on the people saying, 'This is the blood of the covenant that Yahweh has made with you in accordance with these words of his.'"

Those who simply regard the historical Jesus as the founder of a new religion often forget the obvious: at the Last Supper Jesus is a Jew. As such, he uses Jewish symbolism to convey the meaning of what he's about to do. The cup which passes from disciple to disciple contains more than just his blood. Those who drink from it are agreeing to carry out the same covenant which Jesus has made with Yahweh. Just as the blood splashed on their ancestors at Sinai was an outward sign that they had made the covenant with Yahweh, so drinking from Jesus' cup becomes the outward sign that his followers are committing themselves to carry on Jesus' ministry. I presume if anyone around the table in the Jerusalem upper room that night refused to drink from Jesus' cup, he would have suggested that he or she might more profitably spend the evening eating and drinking somewhere else. He expected anyone who drank from his cup to imitate his value system.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews treats a different aspect of Jesus' blood. For him it's not the outward sign of a covenant, it symbolizes something with which we're more familiar: it's the blood which guarantees the salvation which the covenant promises, a new covenant which Jesus makes part of our lives. Though this insight into Jesus' blood fits the both/and pattern of Semitic thought and theology, we shouldn't let it distract us from the point Mark is trying to put across.

Because most of us were baptized as infants, we frequently long to make an adult commitment to Jesus and his faith, something only those baptized later in life can do. The late Bishop Fulton Sheen once tried to turn the sacrament of confirmation into such a commitment. As bishop of Rochester, NY, he refused to confirm anyone not old enough to have graduated from high school. He reasoned if people were confirmed at a younger age, many would do so just because they were part of a "confirmation class," not because of a personal commitment to the faith of Jesus.

Sheen really didn't have to resort to such a drastic action. Following early Christian theology, we already have an adult commitment sacrament. Every time we take from the cup we're proclaiming to ourselves and everyone around us that we're giving ourselves over to Jesus. According to today's gospel, consuming Jesus' blood of the covenant isn't something we do for "extra credit." It's an essential Christian ritual. Refusing the eucharistic cup means either we don't know what the ritual means, or we're not about to commit ourselves to carry on Jesus' work.

JUNE 11, 2006: TRINITY SUNDAY

Readings
Deuteronomy 4:32-34, 39-40
Romans 8:14-17
Matthew 28:16-20

Our Semitic-oriented sacred authors would have a huge problem with our modern Greek-thinking habit of learning definitions of things before we've experienced them. Even worse, they'd cringe to discover that sometimes we actually limit and shape our experiences to fit snuggly into the definitions we've memorized.

This often is the case with today's celebration of the Trinity. The dogmatic definition of the Trinity - three persons in one God - didn't take shape as such until the Council of Nicea in 325 CE. That means none of our biblical writers could have used or even known the definition of the Trinity which we, as children, memorized and recited in our earliest catechism classes. Those who gave us our Christian Scriptures were more concerned with how people of faith related to and experienced God in their lives than theory were concerned with providing their readers with definitions and dogmatic statements.

Notice how Moses presents Yahweh in today's Deuteronomy passage. He does almost no defining. We simply hear a classic reminder of what Yahweh has done to build a relationship with the Israelites. "Did a people ever hear the voice of God speaking from the midst of a fire, as you did . . . ? Or did any god venture to go and take a nation for himself from the midst of another nation . . . which Yahweh your God did for you in Egypt before your very eyes?" God is how God relates.

Whenever relationships are formed, behavior changes. That's why Moses immediately reminds his people of the responsibilities they have that they didn't have before Yahweh stepped into their lives. " . . . You must now know and fix in your heart that Yahweh is God in the heavens above and on earth below, and that there is no other. You must keep Yahweh's statutes and commandments that I enjoin on you today . . . ."

As we hear in our Romans pericope, Paul believes something similar happens when followers of Jesus experience the Spirit of God working in their lives. According to the Apostle, such an encounter creates a whole new relationship with God. "Those who are led by the Spirit of God," Paul writes "are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, 'Abba, Father!'"

Just as freedom and a new relationship with Yahweh resulted from God breaking into the lives of a group of Hebrew slaves, so freedom and a new relationship with God results when Jesus' followers imitate his dying and rising. It's the same freedom and relating with God which Jesus experienced.

Writing with almost 20 years of additional experience of the risen Jesus working in the Christian community than Paul had, Matthew perceives that the force which entered his community's life when they began to die and rise with Jesus went beyond just Jesus. Though it seems Paul and his contemporaries baptized only "in the name of Jesus," Matthew recognizes that the Christian experience goes beyond just one person. Not only do we find a new "Trinitarian" formula for baptism - Father, Son and Spirit, but the church now aims far beyond the historical Jesus' original mission. The risen Jesus commands his followers, "Make disciples of all nations!" Though he writes for a Jewish-Christian community, Matthew's experience of Jesus has forced him to acknowledge that all people - not just Jews -should be invited to share in that experience.

Certainly nothing's wrong with learning definitions, as long as our definitions don't replace an experience which daily expands our understanding of God and God's people.

JUNE 4, 2006: PENTECOST SUNDAY

Readings
Acts 2:1-11
I Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13
John 15:26-27; 16:12-15

To understand the impact of today's three readings describing the power and force of the Holy Spirit, we must hear them as they were originally written: independent of one another. Each author reflects on the effect of Jesus' Spirit in his own community. He's not telling us what we should expect the Spirit to do; he's narrating what has already happened.

After Jesus' death and resurrection, his followers made a life-changing discovery: the risen Jesus in their midst was guiding them along paths they had never imagined themselves taking. They quickly began to understand it's one thing to fall in and follow behind someone as he takes step after step, eventually arriving at his destination. It's a totally different thing to be out on the point alone; no longer securely looking at someone's back, simply following in his footprints. Which turn do they make? How far do they go in one direction? When are they to stop?

Though it's clear from our Christian Scriptures that some disciples took no steps beyond the place where the historical Jesus had left them, the majority began to explore areas which he hadn't explored during his earthly ministry. When they ventured forth, two topics especially created problems: Gentiles and Jesus' delayed Parousia. Only the Spirit could provide answers.

The latter question had a big influence on the former. As long as Christians expected Jesus to return quickly and take them triumphantly into heaven with him, they didn't have to worry about Gentiles. But the longer his return was delayed, the more they had to deal with the possible conversion of these non-Jews. Can they become Christians as Gentiles, or must they first convert to Judaism?

Having to deal with such questions seems to be why John includes Jesus' well-known statement about the Spirit in today's Last Supper pericope. "I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth . . . and will declare to you the things that are coming." The Spirit is the force which pushes us through doors we rarely notice exist.

It's precisely because some in those early Christian communities refused to acknowledge those doors that Luke deliberately describes the Spirit's Pentecost arrival as being accompanied by three disturbing phenomena: wind, fire and noise. "Suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were. Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them." The Spirit never comes peacefully.

We old-timers remember the answer Pope John XXIII always gave when people asked why he was calling an ecumenical council. He'd simply walk over to the nearest window, open it, and say, "To let in a little fresh air." Some contemporary church observers thoughtfully remarked, "If that window's been shut for hundreds of years, a five mile an hour breeze must seem like a hurricane!"

Though our first Christian authors experienced a "ruffling" whenever the Spirit appeared, they also experienced a unifying force in the community which only the Spirit could bring. Luke mentions the gift of tongues which unified the diverse Jerusalem crowd on Pentecost Sunday. And Paul reminds his Corinthians of the "different kinds of spiritual gifts" each Christian posses. Yet no matter how unique and disturbing the gift, " . . . To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit." In the long run, following the Spirit always unites the community.

Perhaps, like our sacred authors, we modern Christians should spend more time reflecting on the signs of the Spirit's presence then trying to ignore or avoid the Spirit-engendered wind, fire and noise existing all around us.