JUNE 24, 2007: THE BIRTH OF JOHN THE BAPTIZER

Readings:
Isaiah 49:1-6
Acts 13:22-26
Luke 1:57-66, 80

John the Baptizer was both a blessing and a problem for gospel Christians.

Accustomed to seeing him as Jesus' precursor, we can't image why anyone had mixed feelings about this heroic prophet. He came to prepare Jesus' way, to make his ministry easier to accomplish. He decreases so Jesus can increase.

By the time the first gospel is created around 70 CE, second generation Christians seem comfortable putting John in this position. Yet when we listen critically to the gospels and mix in some later history, we begin to understand this probably wasn't how the historical John looked at himself.

Several things have to be factored in before we can appreciate what was actually going on with this desert preacher. First, there were still disciples of John several centuries into the Christian era who regard him, not Jesus, as the Messiah. Did these individuals descend from some of John's original followers who were absent on those occasions when he dramatically pointed to Jesus and declared him to be the one whom Israel anticipated would take away its sins?

Second, scholars presume Jesus himself had been a disciple of John. He was both turned on by his approach to Judaism and eventually baptized by him. Originally content to follow him, Jesus agreed with the reform this austere prophet proclaimed. But everything changed when Herod either arrested or killed John. At one of those two points, Jesus stepped in and began his own public ministry.

Third, tensions arose when the disciple became more important for some people than the master. We see this in how the four evangelists chronologically treat John's baptism of Jesus. That action becomes problematic when one day a devotee of John points out to one of Jesus' disciples that normally a superior baptizes an inferior. Gospel to gospel to gospel, Jesus' baptism is emphasized less and eventually disappears. Mark describes it in detail. Matthew precedes it with an argument between John and Jesus about who should baptize whom. Luke refers to the event in just a small participial phrase. John omits it completely. Students of Scripture blame those pesky disciples of John for the de-emphasis.

On one hand, because Jesus had been one of John's disciples, Christians were forced to find a place for him in their faith traditions. On the other hand, they couldn't give him too prominent a place, else they'd jeopardize the place they'd given Jesus.

Yet in spite of this later Christian assessment of John, parts of his actual personality still break through the gospel hype. It's easy to see why Luke first gives him a distinctive annunciation-accompanied birth in his gospel, but then has Paul limit his importance in Acts with the quote, "Behold one is coming after me; I am not worthy to unfasten the sandals of his feet."

Only by concentrating on our Deutero-Isaiah passage do we glimpse what the historical John must have experienced. Not knowing the place his disciple's followers would eventually assign him, John most probably faced death with the words of his prophetic predecessor running through his head: "I thought I had toiled in vain, and for nothing, uselessly spent my strength." He was about to be killed for pushing a reform he feared would die with him.

Though we Christians believe John died peacefully, knowing he'd accomplished his task of preparing Jesus' way, his actual last moments would have strengthened only in the conviction that ". . . my reward is with Yahweh, my recompense is with my God."

Before any of us looks at his or her life as a failure, we should remember that someone eventually will judge our life from a perspective we never noticed while we were living that life.

JUNE 17, 2007: ELEVENTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
II Samuel 12:7-10, 13
Galatians 2:16, 19-21
Luke 7:36-8:3

Those who identify with our sacred authors' faith are convinced God not only can, but often does work through individuals who aren't exactly "good folk," Nowhere is this insight clearer than in today's first reading.

Though David's gone down in history as the greatest Jewish king, rarely are we encouraged to imitate his personal life. Not only is he the Bible's worst parent, he's also an adulterer and murderer. In the passage immediately preceding our liturgical selection, he engages in sex with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, one of his mercenaries. Determined to cover up the pregnancy resulting from this illicit encounter, David eventually arranges for the hapless husband to be "accidentally" killed by the enemy.

Only Nathan the prophet has courage to confront the king, warning, ". . . The sword shall never depart from your house . . . ." To David's credit, he admits, "I have sinned against Yahweh," forcing the prophet to take away some of God's punishment. Yet Yahweh's forgiveness neither takes away the sinful dimensions of David's personality, nor limits God's ability to accomplish good through him.

Jesus of Nazareth shared that aspect of biblical faith. Though some liberal Scripture scholars question how much we actually can know about the historical Jesus, not even they deny he related to sinners in a way that created problems for pious people.

No matter the "sins" of the woman in today's gospel pericope, Jesus demands that Simon, her critic, also acknowledge the good in her act of anointing. "Her many sins have been forgiven because she has shown great love . . . . The one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."

Paul shows that Jesus' earliest followers imitated their mentor's knack of cutting through the externals and surfacing a person's real psyche. Writing against those who taught it essential for Christians to follow Moses' 613 laws, the Apostle states, "We . . . know that a person is not justified by works of the law, but through faith in Christ Jesus . . . ."

Though Paul talks about sharing faith in Jesus, we're certain the Lord's most immediate followers would have imitated the faith of Jesus. Both expressions describe the same reality. We demonstrate our faith in Jesus when we mirror the faith of Jesus.

Jesus' faith in God's ability to work through all people enables him to associate with sinners.

No one should skip over the last three verses of today's gospel. Both Mark and Matthew mention the women who Good Friday afternoon looked on at a distance while Jesus was crucified, women who "had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering to him." But only Luke mentions the presence of these women in Jesus' life and ministry long before Good Friday.

Luke's Jesus is just one chapter away from beginning his momentous eleven chapter journey to Jerusalem when the evangelist tells readers about Jesus' traveling companions. "Accompanying him were the Twelve and some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities. . . who provided for them out of their resources." From that point in Luke's gospel, whenever he refers to Jesus' disciples we're to presume they're both male and female, a fact many through the centuries have conveniently overlooked.

No one should be surprised at Jesus' openness to women. He experienced God present, working in all people. Perhaps that why Paul, one chapter after today's Galatians pericope, reminds his readers that they're to imitate the risen Jesus' distinctive trait of breaking through racial, social and gender limits. Those who can't pull that off are not only guilty of professing a non-biblical faith, they're also guilty of putting limits on God.

JUNE 10, 2007: BODY AND BLOOD OF CHRIST

Readings:
Genesis 14:18-20
I Corinthians 11:23-26
Luke 9:11b-17

We hear some gospel narratives so often we stop paying attention to what a particular passage actually says. This is especially true of Jesus' bread miracles. It's the only miracle included in all four gospels: twice each in Mark and Matthew, once in Luke and John. Though scholars agree all six narratives describe the same event and have something to do with the Eucharist, each evangelist uses the miracle to emphasize different dimensions of the early Christian celebration of the Lord's Supper.

Today's Lucan account of the event treats a eucharistic dimension we rarely address. It's also the one Mark deals with in chapter 6, the first mention of this bread incident.

Most of us, in describing the miracle, speak about Jesus multiplying the loaves of bread and pieces of fish for the huge crowd. But in the earliest narratives, Jesus' disciples do the actual feeding.

Listen carefully to today's pericope. "The Twelve approached him and said, 'Dismiss the crowd so they can . . . find lodging and provisions, for we are in a deserted place here.'" In other words, we're facing a situation beyond our control.

Jesus' response to their suggestion seems ridiculous: "Give them some food yourselves!" They come back with one of Scripture's most sarcastic lines: "Five loaves and two fish are all we have, unless we ourselves go and buy food for all these people." Faced with the same command, young people today would simply laugh and yell, "No way!"

But the Twelve's sarcasm doesn't stop Jesus from having his followers feed the crowd. "Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing over them, broke them and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd."

To the disciples' amazement, "They all ate and were satisfied." Unbelievably, the leftovers "filled twelve wicker baskets." Notice Jesus' role. He only instigates and blesses. His followers do the actual feeding.

Accustomed to participating at Eucharist in a relative passive role, it's difficult to return to the early Christian expectation that each person helps feed the community, no matter how little he or she thinks they have to offer. In I Corinthians 14, Paul reminds his readers, "When you assemble, one has a psalm, another an instruction, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation. Everything should be done for building up." Quite different from what most of us experience or are expected to do during our eucharistic moments.

That's why Paul, in our second reading, takes us back to our earliest tradition about Jesus' Last Supper words and actions, reminding us that those who "eat this bread and drink the cup . . . proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes."

Though we're more comfortable and secure just sitting back and letting ourselves be fed as Abraham's men are fed by Melchizedek in our Genesis passage, Jesus expects his followers to help do the feeding. Such assistance entails a death, giving ourselves to others even beyond our capabilities, giving though we believe someone else has much more to give. Paul believes such giving is one of the central ways we proclaim Jesus' death during the Eucharist. Instead of sitting back, watching someone else do all the work, Jesus expects his followers to join in the feeding.

During those rare occasions in our parish when no one adds any insights during dialogue homilies, I mention that someone might be leaving the celebration hungry today, someone who needs more than I, the presider, have to offer. No matter how little we think of ourselves, we're blessed by Jesus. If we just work up enough courage to share ourselves, we'll discover the "leftovers" are more than we started with.

JUNE 3, 2007: HOLY TRINITY

Readings:
Proverbs 8:22-31
Romans 5:1-5
John 16:12-15

Biblical archaeologist painfully discovered that crucial mistakes can be made when they anticipate what they're going to find before they turn over their first trowel of dirt.

A classic example, the excavations at Jericho (Tell es-Sultan) during the 1930s. Digging to unearth the famous walls Yahweh helped Joshua knock down, John Garstang eventually informed the biblical world he found the fallen fortifications.

Twenty years later, Kathleen Kenyon dug into the same Tell. But to the satisfaction of her scholarly contemporaries, the British archaeologist showed that Garstang's walls had actually been destroyed hundreds of years before Joshua led his army through the Jericho area. This well-documented mistake in identification is one of the reasons today's archaeologists dig without any presupposition about what they're going to find.

Something similar happens when we dig into Scripture on the feast of the Trinity. Without knowing the historical background of today's liturgical texts, some might be tempted to use them to prove the Council of Nicea's famous statement that there are "three persons in one God." Had such a detailed doctrine been in Scripture, the Emperor Constantine would never have been forced to assemble Christianity's bishops to hash out the issue in 325.

The authors of both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures know whenever they attempt to convey concepts of God, they're working with a terrific handicap. As Rudolph Bultmann succinctly put it: "They're on this side, dealing with the other side."

We hear one attempt to cross sides in today's Proverbs pericope. The author expands his readers' idea of Yahweh by personifying their quest to experience Yahweh. Those who seek such wisdom know from the beginning that part of Yahweh's divinity has already been embedded in their search. "When Yahweh established the heavens I (wisdom) was there, when he marked out the vault over the face of the deep . . . made firm the skies above . . . fixed fast the foundations of the earth . . . set for the sea its limit . . . I was beside him as his craftsman . . . ." Our effort to find God is itself part of God.

Christians added another level to the ancient Jewish pursuit to define God in their lives. As we hear in our Romans passage, Paul, who first experienced the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus, began to understand how Jesus' relationship with God eventually become the same relationship with God that his followers experience. "Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith to this grace in which we stand . . . ."

But as the Apostle reminds his readers, this expanded idea of God doesn't stop there. He states, ". . . The love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us." Like all Jesus' original followers, Paul is convinced there's a new dimension of God, a spirit which pervades the communities who profess the faith Jesus professed.

John's Jesus promises this Spirit will be a permanent force in his disciples' lives, helping them treat situations and people as Jesus wants them to. ". . . When he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth . . . will take from what is mine and declare it to you."

Perhaps we, like Professor Garstang, are so driven to find proof for our beliefs that we overlook what Scripture actually tells us. Just as Kenyon was able to demonstrate what really happened when Joshua and the Israelites entered the Promised Land in the 12th century, BCE, so those who stop using Scripture as a proof text for later dogmas will discover the amazing faith journey of those who first tried to understand God, a journey we share with them.