JANUARY 28, 2007: FOURTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Jeremiah 1:4-5, 17-19
I Corinthians 12:31-13:13
Luke 4:21-30

One of the reasons organized religion traditionally persecutes real prophets and rewards fake prophets revolves around the authentic prophets' disturbing habit of taking us back to the beginnings of our faith. All organizations eventually develop shortcuts, loopholes and practices which either cause or enable them to veer from their founder's original charism.

We've all heard about civics class experiments in which a student read several items of our Constitution's Bill of Rights to people waiting at a bus stop and asked their opinion about them. Many thought they comprised the radical agenda of some subversive, revolutionary, anti-American movement. Only a few recognized them as part of the core document of our democracy.

Prophets find themselves in a similar situation. Though they're the most conservative force in society, they're so radically conservative that almost everyone classifies them as flaming liberals. We're simply not comfortable with those who want to conserve what is at the core of our faith

Today's gospel pericope presents us with a classic example of what happens when a prophet tries to take people back to the beginnings of their faith.

In this case, Jesus confronts the false idea that Yahweh only works through specially designated individuals. In the estimate of those who knew him as a kid in Nazareth, he didn't fit into the prophetic category. He responds to their limiting of God's actions by reminding them of how Yahweh, centuries before, had worked not only through, but also on behalf of non-Jews.

The crowd's reaction is prophetically predictable. "Filled with fury, they rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill . . . to hurl him down headlong." Though Jesus escapes, the lesson is clear. "We don't want to be taken back that far into our faith. We're comfortable just where we are."

Jeremiah understood this situation all too well. When, toward the end of his life, he composed the famous "call narrative" which begins the collection of his oracles, he was certain of two things. First, Yahweh had called him to his prophetic ministry; second, no matter what he had to suffer in carrying it out, Yahweh would be with him, guaranteeing he was speaking the truth. No matter the opposition, Jeremiah had no choice but to deliver Yahweh's word, bringing people back to the beginnings of Judaism.

Given today's first and third readings, it's significant that Paul's classic I Corinthians chapter 13 comprises our second reading. No passage in the Christian Scriptures roots us better in the fundamentals of Christian faith than this pericope on love.

We must remember that Paul never intended this chapter to be read, studied or memorized independent of the preceding and following chapters. All three deal with the Spirit's gifts and how they're employed in the community. Should anyone use his or her gift outside the context of love, it's worthless. I'm certain had Paul known of Vice-President John Nance Garner's famous appraisal of his office - "It ain't even worth a warm bucket of spit!" - he would have found a place for it in this chapter. Unless all our actions are motivated and accompanied by love, they fall into Garner's category.

But because love always involves a death, it's easy to forget its place at the heart of our faith. Comfortable substituting other things for it in the practice of that faith, we think only "radical" Christians are actually motivated by love. Yet as our Christian prophets tell us, love is the only force that can change how we relate to others.

For instance, once we love those around us, all competition with them ends. Perhaps if we stop persecuting the prophets God has put in our midst and begin listening to them, we might one day put the Fellowship of Christian Athletes into the same category as the Fellowship of Christian Slave Owners.

JANUARY 21, 2007: THIRD SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Nehemiah 8:2-4a, 5-6, 9-10
I Corinthians 12:12-30
Luke 1:1-4; 4:14-21

What do you do when you discover you haven't been doing what God wants you to do, though for years you thought you were? Nehemiah and Ezra provide us with one course to take. "Do not be sad, and do not weep . . . . Go eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks, and allot portions to those who had nothing prepared; for today is holy to Yahweh. Do not be saddened this day, for rejoicing in Yahweh must be your strength!"

That's not the answer some of us would have expected. Accustomed to depicting God as a vindictive judge, we'd have anticipated a few recriminations from the Levites' lips. After all, according to the covenant the Israelites originally entered into with Yahweh on Mt. Sinai, this situation should never have happened.

A central element in all ancient treaties and covenants was a stipulation that everyone involved should take part in regularly scheduled readings of the agreement, precisely to prevent the situation described in our Nehemiah passage. No one could ever employ the "But I didn't know that!" defense. (Deuteronomy 27 describes such an event.) Since the 50 year Babylonian Exile put a halt to these readings, many in this particular Jerusalem crowd are hearing things and discovering obligations they knew nothing about.

During my lifetime Catholics experienced something similar. We also emerged from a century’s long quasi-Babylonian Exile during which some of our scriptural obligations were either commonly unknown or rarely emphasized.

We all remember from our childhood catechism classes the point at which a venial sin for arriving late for Sunday Mass morphed into a mortal sin. If the chalice was "uncovered" when you came through the door, you just committed the big "M." If it was still covered, it was only venial. The priest back then took the veil off the chalice at the start of the preparation of gifts (the old "Offertory,") immediately after the Liturgy of the Word. Such liturgical morality implied that even if we missed the proclamation of God's biblical word and its homiletical application for an entire lifetime it would not be seriously sinful!

That means we were under only a "light" obligation to learn about our responsibility to form ourselves into the Body of Christ, Paul's pivotal insight into the risen Jesus among us. Though at an early age I was taught in great detail about the hierarchical structure of our church and its implications in my daily life, I only heard rumors about a recently published "Mystical" Body of Christ papal encyclical. Before the Second Vatican Council mandated reforms of 1970, we Catholics never even heard today's second reading proclaimed during a weekend Eucharist.

It was the same for Jesus' synagogue words in our gospel pericope. Yet Luke thought they were essential to understand how Jesus conceived of his earthly ministry. That's why he places them at the beginning of his narrative. Jesus comes not to establish a formal church institution, but to "proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free . . . ." The historical Jesus primarily works to make our life on earth a more pleasant experience than it would be without his presence.

Knowing Jesus and his intentions, it's no wonder Paul developed his Body of Christ theology. Without having a Spirit-inspired unity among us, everyday life isn't much fun.

Perhaps we could take a page from the Dead Sea Scrolls community. Their Qumran settlement had a room in which Scripture was read out loud 24/7. With many parishes today practicing perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, I can only guess what waves of the Spirit might flow from a parish which would dare practice perpetual Scripture reading.

JANUARY 14, 2007: SECOND SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Isaiah 62:1-4
I Corinthians 12: 4-11
John 2:1-12

Ever wonder where in the Bible we find those seven gifts of the Holy Spirit we memorized for Confirmation? Unbelievably, they’re not in the Christian Scriptures! Six of the seven are listed in Isaiah 11. (Piety was added to make a “perfect Semitic seven.”) They’re the specific gifts the prophet expects Yahweh to give the ideal Jewish king. They have almost nothing to do with the unique Christian concept of the Holy Spirit and the gifts Paul believes the Spirit showers on those who imitate Jesus’ dying and rising.

Notice the gifts Paul clicks off in today’s I Corinthians periscope: wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, mighty deeds, prophecy, discernment of Spirits, tongues, and interpretation of tongues. Paul’s nine are far more “concrete” than Isaiah’s six. Maybe that’s why our catechisms traditionally go back to the Hebrew Scriptures to teach us about the Spirit’s effect in our lives instead of turning to Paul and other Christian biblical authors. Gifts like wisdom and fear of the Lord create no problems in a community. On the other hand, how do we distinguish real prophets from fake prophets, when and where can we pray in tongues, or how do we heal without risking a lawsuit?

Paul’s convinced everyone in the community has at least one of these gifts, and that we possess them for the common good. Yet he also realizes the problems which arise when imperfect people dare use those gifts. That’s why he spends three chapters trying to smooth out the Spirit’s rough edges.

Those who accept and use the Spirit’s gifts are committing themselves to live in tension, the strain that comes from living in a world of imperfection with a piece of God’s perfection within us. We can never be content with the status quo once we know God has instilled something better in us and the world around us.

Both Third-Isaiah and John the evangelist presume and appreciate such stress. When, for instance, the prophet calls Jerusalem “a glorious crown in the hand of Yahweh,” and describes the city as God’s spouse, we often forget he’s looking at a heap of ruins. Jerusalem and its temple have yet to be rebuilt after Nebuchadnezzar’s destruction almost 90 years before. If the prophet only reminds his people of how bad the devastation is, there’d be no tension. But once he shares his vision of what could be, he creates a tremendous strain. No longer can those who’ve recently returned from exile just sit back and accept the status quo. They’re now challenged to take a step beyond their comfort zone and help concretize the prophet’s vision.

A similar thing happens in our gospel periscope. Scholars warn us not to read our later “Mariology” into John’s text. Jesus’ mother has not yet become the person she’ll eventually become after centuries of Christian reflection.

She appears only twice in the fourth gospel: here and at Golgatha. Those who critically study John point out the contrast between the two passages. At Cana she asks her son to do a favor for some friends; a request Jesus initially brushes aside with, “My hour has not yet come.” At Golgatha, after Jesus commits his mother and his beloved disciple to one another, the evangelist mentions, “From that hour the disciples took her . . . .”

In John, Jesus’ hour always has something to do with his dying and rising. In the 17 chapters between Cana and Golgatha, the gospel writer implies Mary experienced a conversion. She changed from looking at her son as just a local miracle worker to appreciating what it means for him (and her) to experience a life-giving death. One can only imagine her tension-filled 17 chapters.

Life certainly would be easier without such stress. So it’s no wonder we don’t appreciate or even reflect on the real role of the Spirit in our communities. Yet our sacred authors presume such Spirit-inspired tension is an essential part of our faith environment, at the heart of our imitating Jesus’ dying and rising.

JANUARY 7, 2007: EPIPHANY

Readings:
Isaiah 60:1-6
Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6
Matthew 2:1-12

Not everyone who celebrates today's feast will appreciate or even want to hear the message Matthew conveys in today's gospel pericope.

I always remind my students of Fr. Dennis McCarthy's definition of "canonicity." "We have these specific books in the Bible," the late Jesuit scholar taught, "because they've helped the most people over the longest period of time to understand their faith." Matthew's story of the magi forces us to zero in on the last words of McCarthy's definition - "to understand their faith."

Counter to popular belief, our scriptural writings were never intended to give people their faith. Only after they believed did they turn to our sacred writings to understand the implications of their faith. Among other things, this means only those who have a biblical faith before they pick up Scripture will benefit from hearing those inspired words. This is certainly verified in today's Matthew passage.

Writing for a Jewish/Christian community, Matthew is attempting to show how non-Jews can reach faith in Jesus without going through the faith-process his own readers had experienced.

The magi are astrologers, not kings. Obviously Gentiles, they follow a path to Jesus forbidden to Jews. We who hear this narrative today simply don't share the same religious environment its original listeners shared. If we did, the 1940 Academy Award winning song would be on every church's Index of Forbidden Music. No one would be permitted even to hear, much less sing When You Wish Upon a Star. Jews were prohibited by their Sinai-ratified Mosaic Law to use heavenly bodies for anything except light and instruments to determine times and seasons. Those who dared "follow" stars were to be put to death. All Jews knew Yahweh never employed stars as means of divine communication.

Yet, that precise course correction happens here. And not only here, but also in the parallel situations presented in our other two readings.

Paul presumes some in Ephesus are just as locked into the same limited view of God's actions as some in Matthew's community. That's why he refers to Gentile participation in Christianity as a revelation ". . . not made known to people in other generations." No one could have foreseen the day when these non-Jews would become "coheirs, members of the same body, and co-partners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel."

God not only works outside the restricting lines we create, God completely and haughtily erases those lines.

Third-Isaiah attempts to prepare his audience for such "unreligious" actions by talking about the day when Jerusalem will benefit from the generosity of Gentiles. "Caravans of camels shall fill you, dromedaries from Midian and Ephah; all from Sheba shall come bearing gold and frankincense, and proclaiming the praises of Yahweh." Giving these words even more significance is that when the prophet proclaims them, Jerusalem is in ruins. If the city is to be rebuilt, Gentiles will have to help - something most Jews would have found unacceptable.

Some of us also find the message of these three authors unacceptable. As Gentiles, we're not uptight about the role Gentiles are given in the passages. But formed by catechism and dogmatic methods of instruction, it's difficult to step outside the boundaries in which we're so comfortable. Our sacred authors would have regarded such a limited mentality as "unbiblical faith."

I suggest you look around after today's gospel proclamation. If someone spontaneously throws his or her fist into the air and yells, "Yeah!!" you've just discovered someone for whom Scripture was originally intended.