JANUARY 27, 2008: THIRD SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Isaiah 8:23-9:3
I Corinthians 1:1-13, 17
Matthew 4:12-23

Before I began to study Scripture, I presumed today's gospel pericope narrated Jesus calling his first four priests. That's how most of my seminary spiritual directors interpreted the event and I often heard bishops homilize on this passage during ordination ceremonies.

Today I realize the "gospel Jesus" called no one to the priesthood (or the religious life). He simply called people to be Christians: other Christs. That's why those who originally heard this narrative listened carefully to every word. Matthew places it at the beginning of his gospel in order to help the members of his community reflect not only on the fact they've been called, but also on their response to that invitation.

Notice the circumstances of the call. "As (Jesus) was walking by the Sea of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon, called Rock, and his brother Andrew, casting nets into the sea; they were fishermen . . . . He walked along from there and saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets."

The four aren't on retreat, participating in a mission, or engaged in spiritual reading. They're at work, doing what they've probably done every day of their adult lives: fishing. Jesus encounters them where they are; not where they should be.

But no matter where we are, he always calls us to go somewhere else. In no biblical call - all the way back to Abraham's Genesis 12 call - is anyone ever commanded to stay put. People of faith are constantly called to move, sometimes physically, but always psychologically. In this situation, Jesus expects his first four disciples to change their value system. "Come after me," he commands, "and I will make you fishers of people." They'll no longer focus on fish; people will now be at the center of their lives.

Matthew dramatizes this psychological sea change by actually having the four men move physically. "At once they left their nets and followed him . . . . Immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him." They're now going to be "where" Jesus is, not just physically, but mentally.

The evangelist is convinced that not all who claim to be Christians are actually where Jesus is. Matthew's certainly not the only Christian author to encounter such a contradiction. Almost 25 years before, Paul faced the same difficulty in Corinth.

The Apostle's overriding fear revolves around divisions in the churches he evangelized. He's passionate that his communities "be united in the same mind and in the same purpose." Factions springing from who evangelized or who baptized specific individuals force Paul to cut through the nonsense of "I belong to Paul . . . Apollos . . . Cephas," and cry out, "I belong to Christ!" In other words, no one can bring us to true faith unless they bring us to the point where we begin to follow Jesus.

I presume Paul is so deeply concerned about unity because he wants his communities to live fulfilled, happy lives. Isaiah wished the same for his community. "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing . . . ." The prophet here is referring to a temporary withdrawal of Assyrian forces from the north of Israel, reflecting on the joy the enemy's retreat creates for everyone.

Paul, on the other hand, is speaking about a more permanent state of mind, the joy that comes from following Jesus. Such happiness and contentment doesn't depend on the actions of others. It's rooted in how we integrate the "cross of Christ" into our lives. Paul believes it depends on everyone in the community dying enough to themselves to actually become Christ's Body - in our case, to identify even with the community's priests.

JANUARY 20, 2008: SECOND SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Isaiah 49:3-6
I Corinthians 1:1-3
John 1:29-34

No way can verse 4 be left out of today's Deutero-Isaiah reading. It's the reason the prophet composed this Second Song of the Suffering Servant of Yahweh. In the first three songs (42:1-4, 49:1-6, 40:4-9), Deutero-Isaiah reflects on experiencing Yahweh in his life and ministry. In the fourth and last song (52:13-53:12), the prophet's disciples reflect on their experience of him in their lives and ministry.

This second song is triggered not by any physical pain or hurt, but by a suffering we all must endure: failure. Though Deutero-Isaiah never doubts his calling, he faces one gnawing problem. "I thought I had toiled in vain, and for nothing, uselessly, spent my strength." He's simply not able to accomplish the task Yahweh gave him, to bring Jacob back to him and gather Israel to him.

Ironically, our second reading also springs from failure. Pauline scholars believe the Apostle is no longer in control of the Corinthian community when he dictates this first letter to them. Our liturgical passage contains the letter's greeting, words that can only be appreciated after one reads the entire epistle.

Paul emphatically refers to his apostolic calling because his authority has been challenged. He mentions the community's call to holiness because many in Corinth are not living lives "other" from the non-Christians around them. Neither do they regard themselves as part of a larger faith community. That's why Paul reminds them that they are always joined "with all those everywhere who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." Many of the letter's readers seem to have rejected both Paul and his teaching.

In some sense, our gospel pericope also highlights what Jesus' contemporaries would have seen as a failure: his death. John calls him "Lamb of God," a title which can only refer to his death. Passover lambs were killed, not kept as pets. Jesus' death always was an obstacle his followers had to hurdle when they spoke to non-Christians about him.

If we're bothered by failure, it's possible we've forgotten that all of Scripture is reflection. As far as we can tell, nothing was written down as it happened. Only after people of faith had time to think about events did someone eventually put stylus to papyrus and actually create our sacred writings. Our biblical authors were granted the blessing of time to look back from a perspective which those about whom they wrote rarely experienced.

Only years after his original hearers rejected him did Deutero-Isaiah realize his failure to convert his fellow-Jews to Yahweh opened an unexpected door to evangelize non-Jews (the "nations"). And in the Suffering Servant's fourth song, the prophet's followers ultimately concluded his martyrdom actually healed them of their sinfulness.

Paul probably had low expectations when he sent I Corinthians to the church to whom he had given so much of himself. Yet this letter has become a rock of faith for all Jesus' followers. As a homilist I fall back on passages from this epistle more than from all of Paul's other writings combined. It's a gold mine for anyone building and sustaining a Christian community.

Hearing John call Jesus the Lamb of God, Christians rarely think failure. We can't separate this title from John's next words. Jesus is the lamb "who takes away the sin of the world." His dying and rising showed him to be our redeemer.

Many of us regard parts of our own lives as complete washouts, periods in which we failed where we expected to succeed. Yet we might literally be too close to the action to make a valid judgment. One day we might be surprised - as many biblical folk were - to discover that our times of failure might have been our "finest hour."

JANUARY 13, 2008: BAPTISM OF JESUS

Readings:
Isaiah 42: 1-4, 6-7
Acts 10:34-38
Matthew 3:13-17

One of the most rewarding aspects of critically studying the Christian Scriptures is to discover how one evangelist changes the words or the theology of a prior evangelist. This is especially easy to do when you're reading Matthew or Luke and also have a copy of Mark at hand. Each had Mark's manuscript unrolled on his desk when he composes his own gospel. For the most part, both faithfully copy the sections of Mark they include in their works. But in some passages, the changes they make, or the material they leave out is quite significant. Nowhere more so than in Matthew's account of Jesus’ baptism, especially in what the "voice from heaven" proclaimed as Jesus "came up from the water."

Matthew changes just two words. He switches Mark's "You are . . .” to "This is . . . ." The change alters the whole direction of the narrative.

In Mark, Jesus' baptism includes an annunciation informing him of his divine condition. Just as Matthew narrates an annunciation to Joseph and Luke posits an annunciation to Mary, the original gospel writer thinks it necessary that Jesus also receive a heavenly notice about "what's going on." The voice directs "You are my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased!" to Jesus.

By changing the _You are_ to _This is_, Matthew addresses these words of recognition and approval not to Jesus, but to anyone who happens to be in that specific area of the Jordan River.

Matthew's word change mirrors a theological change taking place n the early Christian community for whom he writes. More and more, Jesus' followers zeroed in on what Jesus meant for them instead of concentrating on what Jesus meant for Jesus. They've become more concerned with what's going on in their minds and hearts because of Jesus' ministry than what was going on in Jesus' mind and heart during his ministry.

We know John's baptism played a crucial role in Jesus' life. Early Christian proclamations of the good news, including the one in today's Acts pericope, almost always mention the Baptist's activity. "You know ... what has happened all over Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached . . . ." But as I mentioned above, Matthew makes the event an occasion for people to begin discerning who Jesus is. Mark makes it an occasion for Jesus to begin discerning who Jesus is.

In doing so, Mark's simply following the lead of the greatest prophet of the Hebrew Scriptures: Deutero-Isaiah. Like Mark's Jesus, he also has to discover his "calling," not just a generic calling to discipleship, but a specific calling, directed uniquely to himself.

Deutero-Isaiah isn't just called to be a prophet. Yahweh summons him to be a prophet unlike any of his high profile predecessors. This conscience of the Babylonian Exile is expected to develop a persona quite different from Amos or Jeremiah. He'll convey Yahweh's word, "not crying out, not shouting, not making his voice heard in the street, a bruised reed he shall not break, and a smoldering wick he shall not quench . . . ."

Not only his style, but also his audience will be unique.

Deutero-Isaiah's words will go beyond his fellow-Jews. Yahweh informs him that he's "to bring forth justice to the nations (Gentiles,)" assuring him "the coast lands (also Gentiles) will wait for his teaching." The prophet's oracles will touch not only Jews; they'll have an effect on every person on the face of the earth.

As followers of Jesus, it's essential we discover how his presence in our lives affects our lives. But it's also essential to surface how that presence informs us of our unique calling, a calling only we have received, a calling for which only we are responsible.

JANUARY 6, 2008: EPIPHANY

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

The renowned 20th century scholar of the Christian Scriptures, Rudolf Bultmann, always reminded his students that every Scripture passage originally had a "sitz im leben" in the community for which it was written. In our language, something was going on in that community which prompted the sacred author to compose this particular pericope. No biblical writer worked in a vacuum.

Just glance at today's second and third readings. The sitz im leben jumps from the page.

Jesus' earliest followers thought only Jews would want to become his disciples. The historic Jesus of Nazareth went town to town, synagogue to synagogue preaching a reform of Judaism. He was Jewish, his audience Jewish, his topic Jewish. Why would Gentiles - non-Jews - give him a second thought, unless they were writing a doctoral dissertation on first century C.E. Palestinian carpenters-turned- reformers?

Yet against all expectation, large numbers of Gentiles began to take an interest in Jesus' teaching and lifestyle. Though initially these Gentile converts were expected to become Jews before they became "Christians," eventually people, like Paul, began to realize the risen Jesus was calling them to faith as Gentiles. They could follow him without jumping through the Jewish "hoops" their predecessors in the faith had thought essential to discipleship.

Though contrary to popular Jewish belief, Paul and his coworkers ultimately started to appreciate that their "outreach" to non-Jews was part of Yahweh's overall plan for the salvation of all people. God somehow had shared this "mystery" with Paul. "The Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel." Christianity would never be the same again.

But Jesus' Jewish followers didn't just vanish after Gentiles started to convert. Twenty years after Paul's death, Matthew composes his gospel for a Jewish/Christian community, a church whose members presumed Saturday synagogue attendance and Mosaic law observance were part of their imitating Jesus. Yet the evangelist is forced to remind his readers that there are other ways to carry on Jesus' ministry beyond the Jewish structure within which he exercised his own ministry.

At the beginning of his gospel, Matthew demonstrates that even those who flaunt the Torah regulations forbidding "star gazing" can find their way to Jesus. Pagan magicians can know more about navigating the road to Bethlehem than Herod's Scripture scholars. In Matthew's infancy narrative, these non-Jewish strangers are the only people who do Jesus "homage." This magi passage certainly "blew the minds" of many faithful Jewish/Christian believers.

On the other hand, even main-stream Jews knew their own prophets had frequently spoken about Gentile involvement in their faith. Five hundred years before Jesus' birth, Third-Isaiah conceived of a rebuilt Jerusalem being a magnet for everyone, even non-Jews. "Nations (Gentiles) shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance . . . . Caravans of camels shall fill you, dromedaries from Midian and Ephah; all from Sheba shall come bearing gold, frankincense, and proclaiming the praises of Yahweh." No Jewish prophet ever left the impression that Jewish communities were "in here by themselves." They were always part of a larger world.

No doubt our modern belief that we're part of an almost infinite expanding universe forces us to have a different sitz im leben than our faith ancestors. But even if we don't know how to spell "quantum theology," God's plan for creation's eventual salvation still contains elements just as mysterious as those Paul discovered 2,000 years ago.