Gospel Reflection 20070401
The Way of the Cross is about suffering and death - AND the new life that can occur through difficulties.
Jesus' love for us is so great that he chose to travel the Way of the Cross, a path that can support us through some of the most agonizing events toward a newer and fuller life. By reflecting on the Way of the Cross, we are reminded that life's journey is never too impossible to be traveled. The Way of the Cross asks us to 1) consider what Jesus did, 2) to reflect on our life today, and 3) to pray in faith.
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April 1, 2007
Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion
Gospel
Lk 22:14—23:56 or 23:1-49
When the hour came,
Jesus took his place at table with the apostles.
He said to them,
“I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer,
for, I tell you, I shall not eat it again
until there is fulfillment in the kingdom of God.”
Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and said,
“Take this and share it among yourselves;
for I tell you that from this time on
I shall not drink of the fruit of the vine
until the kingdom of God comes.”
Then he took the bread, said the blessing,
broke it, and gave it to them, saying,
“This is my body, which will be given for you;
do this in memory of me.”
And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying,
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood,
which will be shed for you.
“And yet behold, the hand of the one who is to betray me
is with me on the table;
for the Son of Man indeed goes as it has been determined;
but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed.”
And they began to debate among themselves
who among them would do such a deed.
Then an argument broke out among them
about which of them should be regarded as the greatest.
He said to them,
“The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them
and those in authority over them are addressed as ‘Benefactors’;
but among you it shall not be so.
Rather, let the greatest among you be as the youngest,
and the leader as the servant.
For who is greater:
the one seated at table or the one who serves?
Is it not the one seated at table?
I am among you as the one who serves.
It is you who have stood by me in my trials;
and I confer a kingdom on you,
just as my Father has conferred one on me,
that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom;
and you will sit on thrones
judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
“Simon, Simon, behold Satan has demanded
to sift all of you like wheat,
but I have prayed that your own faith may not fail;
and once you have turned back,
you must strengthen your brothers.”
He said to him,
“Lord, I am prepared to go to prison and to die with you.”
But he replied,
“I tell you, Peter, before the cock crows this day,
you will deny three times that you know me.”
He said to them,
“When I sent you forth without a money bag or a sack or sandals,
were you in need of anything?”
“No, nothing, “ they replied.
He said to them,
“But now one who has a money bag should take it,
and likewise a sack,
and one who does not have a sword
should sell his cloak and buy one.
For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in me,
namely, He was counted among the wicked;
and indeed what is written about me is coming to fulfillment.”
Then they said,
“Lord, look, there are two swords here.”
But he replied, “It is enough!”
Then going out, he went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives,
and the disciples followed him.
When he arrived at the place he said to them,
“Pray that you may not undergo the test.”
After withdrawing about a stone’s throw from them and kneeling,
he prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing,
take this cup away from me;
still, not my will but yours be done.”
And to strengthen him an angel from heaven appeared to him.
He was in such agony and he prayed so fervently
that his sweat became like drops of blood
falling on the ground.
When he rose from prayer and returned to his disciples,
he found them sleeping from grief.
He said to them, “Why are you sleeping?
Get up and pray that you may not undergo the test.”
While he was still speaking, a crowd approached
and in front was one of the Twelve, a man named Judas.
He went up to Jesus to kiss him.
Jesus said to him,
“Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”
His disciples realized what was about to happen, and they asked,
“Lord, shall we strike with a sword?”
And one of them struck the high priest’s servant
and cut off his right ear.
But Jesus said in reply,
“Stop, no more of this!”
Then he touched the servant’s ear and healed him.
And Jesus said to the chief priests and temple guards
and elders who had come for him,
“Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs?
Day after day I was with you in the temple area,
and you did not seize me;
but this is your hour, the time for the power of darkness.”
After arresting him they led him away
and took him into the house of the high priest;
Peter was following at a distance.
They lit a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat around it,
and Peter sat down with them.
When a maid saw him seated in the light,
she looked intently at him and said,
“This man too was with him.”
But he denied it saying,
“Woman, I do not know him.”
A short while later someone else saw him and said,
“You too are one of them”;
but Peter answered, “My friend, I am not.”
About an hour later, still another insisted,
“Assuredly, this man too was with him,
for he also is a Galilean.”
But Peter said,
“My friend, I do not know what you are talking about.”
Just as he was saying this, the cock crowed,
and the Lord turned and looked at Peter;
and Peter remembered the word of the Lord,
how he had said to him,
“Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.”
He went out and began to weep bitterly.
The men who held Jesus in custody were ridiculing and beating him.
They blindfolded him and questioned him, saying,
“Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?”
And they reviled him in saying many other things against him.
When day came the council of elders of the people met,
both chief priests and scribes,
and they brought him before their Sanhedrin.
They said, “If you are the Christ, tell us, “
but he replied to them, “If I tell you, you will not believe,
and if I question, you will not respond.
But from this time on the Son of Man will be seated
at the right hand of the power of God.”
They all asked, “Are you then the Son of God?”
He replied to them, “You say that I am.”
Then they said, “What further need have we for testimony?
We have heard it from his own mouth.”
Then the whole assembly of them arose and brought him before Pilate.
They brought charges against him, saying,
“We found this man misleading our people;
he opposes the payment of taxes to Caesar
and maintains that he is the Christ, a king.”
Pilate asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
He said to him in reply, “You say so.”
Pilate then addressed the chief priests and the crowds,
“I find this man not guilty.”
But they were adamant and said,
“He is inciting the people with his teaching throughout all Judea,
from Galilee where he began even to here.”
On hearing this Pilate asked if the man was a Galilean;
and upon learning that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction,
he sent him to Herod who was in Jerusalem at that time.
Herod was very glad to see Jesus;
he had been wanting to see him for a long time,
for he had heard about him
and had been hoping to see him perform some sign.
He questioned him at length,
but he gave him no answer.
The chief priests and scribes, meanwhile,
stood by accusing him harshly.
Herod and his soldiers treated him contemptuously and mocked him,
and after clothing him in resplendent garb,
he sent him back to Pilate.
Herod and Pilate became friends that very day,
even though they had been enemies formerly.
Pilate then summoned the chief priests, the rulers, and the people
and said to them, “You brought this man to me
and accused him of inciting the people to revolt.
I have conducted my investigation in your presence
and have not found this man guilty
of the charges you have brought against him,
nor did Herod, for he sent him back to us.
So no capital crime has been committed by him.
Therefore I shall have him flogged and then release him.”
But all together they shouted out,
“Away with this man!
Release Barabbas to us.”
— Now Barabbas had been imprisoned for a rebellion
that had taken place in the city and for murder. —
Again Pilate addressed them, still wishing to release Jesus,
but they continued their shouting,
“Crucify him! Crucify him!”
Pilate addressed them a third time,
“What evil has this man done?
I found him guilty of no capital crime.
Therefore I shall have him flogged and then release him.”
With loud shouts, however,
they persisted in calling for his crucifixion,
and their voices prevailed.
The verdict of Pilate was that their demand should be granted.
So he released the man who had been imprisoned
for rebellion and murder, for whom they asked,
and he handed Jesus over to them to deal with as they wished.
As they led him away
they took hold of a certain Simon, a Cyrenian,
who was coming in from the country;
and after laying the cross on him,
they made him carry it behind Jesus.
A large crowd of people followed Jesus,
including many women who mourned and lamented him.
Jesus turned to them and said,
“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me;
weep instead for yourselves and for your children
for indeed, the days are coming when people will say,
‘Blessed are the barren,
the wombs that never bore
and the breasts that never nursed.’
At that time people will say to the mountains,
‘Fall upon us!’
and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’
for if these things are done when the wood is green
what will happen when it is dry?”
Now two others, both criminals,
were led away with him to be executed.
When they came to the place called the Skull,
they crucified him and the criminals there,
one on his right, the other on his left.
Then Jesus said,
“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”
They divided his garments by casting lots.
The people stood by and watched;
the rulers, meanwhile, sneered at him and said,
“He saved others, let him save himself
if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God.”
Even the soldiers jeered at him.
As they approached to offer him wine they called out,
“If you are King of the Jews, save yourself.”
Above him there was an inscription that read,
“This is the King of the Jews.”
Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying,
“Are you not the Christ?
Save yourself and us.”
The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply,
“Have you no fear of God,
for you are subject to the same condemnation?
And indeed, we have been condemned justly,
for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes,
but this man has done nothing criminal.”
Then he said,
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
He replied to him,
“Amen, I say to you,
today you will be with me in Paradise.”
It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land
until three in the afternoon
because of an eclipse of the sun.
Then the veil of the temple was torn down the middle.
Jesus cried out in a loud voice,
“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”;
and when he had said this he breathed his last.
Here all kneel and pause for a short time.
The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified God and said,
“This man was innocent beyond doubt.”
When all the people who had gathered for this spectacle saw what had happened,
they returned home beating their breasts;
but all his acquaintances stood at a distance,
including the women who had followed him from Galilee
and saw these events.
Now there was a virtuous and righteous man named Joseph who,
though he was a member of the council,
had not consented to their plan of action.
He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea
and was awaiting the kingdom of God.
He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus.
After he had taken the body down,
he wrapped it in a linen cloth
and laid him in a rock-hewn tomb
in which no one had yet been buried.
It was the day of preparation,
and the sabbath was about to begin.
The women who had come from Galilee with him followed behind,
and when they had seen the tomb
and the way in which his body was laid in it,
they returned and prepared spices and perfumed oils.
Then they rested on the sabbath according to the commandment.
ONE
A picture is worth a thousand words. Mel Gibson's epic movie, "The Passion of the Christ” speaks more than a thousand words. The “Passion of the Christ.” brings alive the gospel of the passion of Jesus. It reveals the immeasurable love of our God for each one of us. A love in which God gives Jesus, His only begotten Son, to all humanity to suffer and die on the cross for our redemption. The movie is graphically violent and the suffering of Jesus horrendous. Jesus accepted this terrible suffering and death out of His love for each one of us in full payment for all of our sins. His horrendous suffering and death gives us a measure of the horrors of our sins accumulated against God and neighbor.
Jesus accomplished much in the last twelve hours of His life depicted in “The Passion of the Christ”. Flashbacks covered the Passion from the time of the Last Supper until Jesus on the cross said, “It is finished”. He gave us the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the Bread of Life, His own Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. He sealed the new covenant in His Blood to wash away our sins. He gave us the priesthood, to share in His priesthood and to act persona Christi in all the sacraments which are the ways and means to become holy. Jesus did not promise a life of ease by being His follower. Our lives are filled with troubles and trials such as sickness, long term depression from abortion, and the death of a loved one. These are some of our daily crosses which we offer to God to share in the passion of Jesus with the hope of sharing in His resurrection.
There is no greater love than one laying down his life for his friend. A soldier in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team sacrificed his life by smothering a grenade with his body during combat –a total denial of self to give life to his friends. He was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor posthumously for this great sacrifice of love for his friends. The sacrifice of his life was given for his friends. It was not for all humanity. Jesus carried the cross weighed down with all our sins to suffer and laid down His life on the cross for all humanity. The debt of our sins are infinite and could only be fully redeemed through the infinite love of God, Jesus, who is second Person of the Trinity. The gift of our redemption is a gift of God and not man.
“The Passion of the Christ” is the gospel of God’s love. Our eyes of faith in Jesus see God’s love for us in the graphic, excruciating violence of the scourging, carrying of the cross and crucifixion of Jesus. We should not miss the point of God’s love by just looking at the movie rating of R or the many distracting concerns that it could possibly elicit anger and hate. After seeing the movie, audiences have left the theater in total silence and in deep reflection. We should reflect on God’s love and mercy, reflect on our failure to love that contributed to the suffering and death of Jesus on the cross and the little we have done to live the gospel message of love and mercy. We should not feel depressed by the movie. The “Passion of the Christ” assures us of God’s continued love and mercy for us. Jesus is ever and always present with us, to help us with the crosses of life which befall everyone of us. The problems of life may not go away but we will endure them with His help and grace. We should receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation as often as possible for it is the sacrament of God’s mercy – Jesus’ first gift to us after His resurrection. We should pray and receive the Eucharist as often as possible. Communion gives us the graces to endure the crosses in our lives, to live more fully a life of love for God and neighbor and helps transform us more to the image and likeness of Jesus. We are bound in a communion of love and unity with God and neighbor. The movie “The Passion of the Christ” brings alive more than just the words of the gospel. It brings alive the love and mercy of God for us.
TWO
The recent release of Mel Gibson's film," The Passion of the Christ", has sparked more conversation about Jesus' Passion than any event in recent memory. As a result it may be well to review the readings in light of what is being said. First, Pontius Pilate was deeply hated by the Jewish people. Still, he was the only person who could execute Jesus.
The Jewish religious court had found Jesus guilty of (1) threatening to destroy the Temple, (2) claiming to be the son of God and (3), subverting the Jewish interpretation of the Scriptures. However, when Pilate asked what had been Jesus' crimes, the Jewish leaders replied, (1) treason against Rome, (2) refusing to pay taxes and (3) claiming to be a Messianic king, which was a challenge to Caesar. The last three charges were all false. As a matter of fact, Jesus at one time told the people to pay their taxes, "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's."
Pilate actually tried to save Jesus but the Jewish leaders insisted He be crucified and Pilate, who was fearful there might be a revolt which could cause him to be recalled to Rome, lacked the courage to defy the will of the people. We justly consider Pilate to be a man without true convictions. When the going got tough, he folded.
However, the publicity generated by the "Passion" movie may distract us from seeing the real meaning of this event. We may lose sight of the fact that the message of Jesus is directed to us.
Jesus stood before the rulers of His secular world and did not back down. He continued to proclaim the words of His Father, even though He would suffer severe consequences. We might say to ourselves, "Well, I'm glad I don't have to face the same decisions that Jesus faced." However, that's not true. We are asked to make equally difficult decisions each day as we decide whether or not we will follow the teachings of our Father or whether we will let the modern "Pilates" dictate what happens in our lives.
Some would say, "We shouldn't mix religion with politics." As Jesus faced Pilate with the knowledge that His answers could probably lead to His execution, he definitely mixed His religion with politics and defied the wishes of the Jewish leaders. Jesus didn't sell His vote for anyone.
He even made a clear cut, voluntary decision when Pilate said to Him, "I have the power to save you." What was Jesus' decision? He remained silent. He did not ask for a pardon. He had the courage to stand before the mightiest man in Jerusalem and He didn't back down, not for personal or political gain. Even when faced with death, His decision seemed to be simple, "I will not compromise myself and forget the teachings of My Father just to save my life or to gain some personal or political advantage." We should ask ourselves, "Did Jesus make the right decision?" If we answer "Yes", then the issues that face each of us in this modern world should have new meaning to us.
Suddenly, this is not a "story" told some 2000 years ago. Suddenly the words we hear today bring us into the "passion" story of Jesus Christ. Each of us must face the "Pilates" of our modern society and each of us must make a decision. It's true, for some in the political arena that decision may bring consequences. Jesus' decision brought dire consequences. Did He make the right decision? For all of us, our decisions may not be accepted by our friends or, possibly, even by our families. His mother was burdened with unbelievable grief. His disciples ran from Him and were so frightened they hid from the Jews. One later doubted Him. Yes, our actions can have consequences. We may lose favor with a constituency, we may have friends that don't agree with out expressions of faith but if we have to choose sides, we must have the courage to do as Jesus did. The price we pay will never be as high as the price Jesus paid for our salvation.
And while at the same time we consider the "big" moral issues that we face, we must also consider those actions in our daily lives that are the same actions Jesus asks each of us to consider. He fed the poor, He visited and healed the sick, He helped a wedding couple at Cana and He preached love for everyone while, also, teaching that actions against the commandments of His Father would result in punishment. He was honest, he was fair, He was God.
And so as we consider the choices this man Jesus had to make and if we see the movie about His final hours, we must put ourselves into the picture. We must ask ourselves if we can have His courage, His conviction and his willingness to undergo tremendous pain and suffering, if necessary, to live the life He asks us to live. He, literally, gave His life for us. Will we do the same for Him even though it may be inconvenient, it may not be what the "crowd" wants us to do and, yes, it may result in some discomfort to us? Next weekend, as we celebrate His triumphant Resurrection we, too, should be convinced that that if we do follow His example, we also can reap the same eternal reward. That's His promise to us.
THREE
“I dread Good Friday this year,” It was an honest and simple statement from the gentle woman sitting before me recounting her faith’s journey. Yet she spoke not only for herself. She bore some weight we all carry when faced with the prospect of the Passion. How like Jesus himself, I thought. He desired to eat the meal but dreaded the thought of drinking the cup. When the awful time came, he was as clear and straightforward as the reluctant woman who feared Good Friday: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done." He tasted the anguish. He bled with worry. But as Isaiah foretold, this God-with-us would not turn back. He remained unshielded before the siege of life and death. Face set like flint, he clung only to the one who sent him. God, having made us in godly image, made God in Jesus the likeness of humankind.
The incarnation and its inevitable result would be a great emptying out into us. It would be the second fall: the fall of God into our human estate, a sublime bankruptcy with no golden parachute.
It is our human circumstance, grand and grotesque, that is at issue in the Passion. Our predicament is the healing of the wounds without the cover of cosmetics. Our problem is the solving of sin without endless stratagems of denial. "Not guilty," we all say, having taken the ploys of the courtroom as our method of life. We plea-bargain our way through while the slaughter goes on. Lacerations we bear in quiet. Cruelties we have inflicted go unmentioned. Deprivations we share in common are unnoticed.
How could any human being ever live and escape the Passion? We would never rear children, never be born, never inhabit such a dear world fraught with peril, and we would probably never grow. Certainly we would never love. It is for us that Virgil mourned the "tears of things." Jesus said more: "Do not weep for me," he advised the women of Jerusalem, "weep for yourselves and for your children."
And so we do in our own passion. We weep for ourselves in abundance or deprivation. We weep for the children we never had and the children we have brought to birth. The tears are inescapable, no matter how hard we might try to pretend. No power or Pilate or pleasure of Herod can preserve us.
My friend who so dreaded Good Friday had it quite right. It is an inevitable, dreaded season of life. We die our thousand deaths. We pour out our hearts and tears for our young, mourn the lost beloved, the broken companion, the unraveling parent. We sweat the love and bleed the sorrow.
If only there were a way out.
But unexpectedly, wondrously, the one who need not have been like us, yet chose to be so, did not flee. He entered the garden of Gethsemane to rectify the garden of Eden. Not clinging to the robes of divinity, he took the towel to wash our feet. And we, with Peter, might murmur, "not just our feet, Lord, but our whole being, our pains and terrors, our aging and fading, our agonies and death." C. S. Lewis wrote in his Poems that love was as warm as tears: unsettling, uninvited, cleansing, and comforting. It was fierce as fire, flickering with life, smoldering with rage, constant as some eternal flame. Love, too, was as fresh as spring, new and alive, daring and bold. But he ended this song of Love with the most telling stanza of all: Love’s as hard as nails, love is nails… Blunt, thick, hammered through the medial nerves of One who, having made us, knew the thing He had done, seeing (with all that is) our cross and His.
Perhaps it is that cross we dread. We’d rather go some day, bright, shining and unstained before the broken servant to thank Him for His pains, not for us, but for all those others out there who needed it. We would manage our salvation be our efforts and achievements. “Thank you, but, all the same, I’d rather not need such terrible proof of love.”
But the dream of sinlessness sours to nightmare when we fail and fall. Having counted on flimsy virtue that cruelly betrays us, in our honor we conclude that we were not even worth the Passion and all is lost. The Pharisee who did not need salvation is joined by the failure who judges himself hopelessly beyond its power and grace. Good Friday’s wood, on which hung the Savior of the world, remains waiting for our kiss. it bore the one who says to us, now and eternally, from the cross” “Yes, you needed this. And yes, your were worth it.”
Gospel Reflection 20070325
Jesus had only God to "cover for him."
Stripped. Humiliated and ashamed. Divested of every protection from the crowd. Jesus had to rely on God.
Haven't there been times when actions you weren't proud of were exposed for all to see? Humiliation and shame darken our lives at such times. Jesus had God's love to which to turn. So do we!
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March 25, 2007
Fifth Sunday of Lent
Gospel
Jn 8:1-11
Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area,
and all the people started coming to him,
and he sat down and taught them.
Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman
who had been caught in adultery
and made her stand in the middle.
They said to him,
“Teacher, this woman was caught
in the very act of committing adultery.
Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.
So what do you say?”
They said this to test him,
so that they could have some charge to bring against him.
Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger.
But when they continued asking him,
he straightened up and said to them,
“Let the one among you who is without sin
be the first to throw a stone at her.”
Again he bent down and wrote on the ground.
And in response, they went away one by one,
beginning with the elders.
So he was left alone with the woman before him.
Then Jesus straightened up and said to her,
“Woman, where are they?
Has no one condemned you?”
She replied, “No one, sir.”
Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you.
Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”
ONE
Well, they did it again!
For being the smartest people of their time, you would think that the Scribes and Pharisees would catch on a little quicker; but the Gospels are full of stories in which they challenge Jesus’ teachings only to end up frustrated and embarrassed by his penetrating responses. Unfortunately, being smart and learned is no protection against being arrogant.
So, here they come again in today’s Gospel and you can almost hear the wheels turning in their eager minds. This time we’ll get him. We’ve even got Moses on our side. This hick preacher from Galilee can carry this love and forgiveness stuff only so far and still stay within the Law. He might be able to outsmart us but he’ll never outsmart Moses. Moses demanded punishment for adultery, not leniency. So, they drag this woman up to him and present their accusations against her. You can imagine their smugness as they played up to the crowd to show how righteous they were. It’s almost a scene from a soap opera. By contract, Jesus never loses his cool. He just bends over and starts writing in the dust with his finger.
Now, lots of people have speculated over the ages on what he wrote that had such an impact on those men. Some have suggested that he began listing their personal, hidden sins for all in the crowd to see. Others say that he wrote down the names of those among them who themselves had done some very indiscreet things with this very woman. Somehow or other, though, that doesn’t seem the kind of thing Jesus would have done. He simply was much too gentle even with those who liked to try to trick him. After all, he had come to convert people, not condemn them. He was aware that they were fully schooled not only in the words of the Law, which they were using to condemn this woman, but also in the words of the Prophets and the Psalmist. They knew, for example, that the Psalmist had declared that the Lord “is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in kindness.” They knew that God, speaking through the prophet Hosea, had said, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” so that, in God’s eyes, mercy superceded even the Law.
So, when Jesus bent down, he needed to write just a simple message in order to open their minds and give them pause in their hot pursuit of this law-breaking woman. It shouldn’t surprise us then, if all he wrote were a few words, something like “What would God do?” Just a short message like that, coupled with looking them straight in the eye and challenging them with: “Let the one who is without sin throw the first stone at her.” They were stopped in their tracks not only by his words but by the snickers from the onlookers who were all too familiar with the faults of their less than perfect leaders. Now, at that point, I think Jesus and the woman could have just walked away and no one would have stopped them; but Jesus was not concerned just with saving the woman. He wanted to save the Scribes and Pharisees as well. So, rather than prolong the argument Jesus once more bent down and touched his finger to the ground and here again I think he wrote just a few simple words. Three words would have been enough to sum up all he had tried to teach not only those men but the rest of the crowd and us, also. “Become like God.” Anyway, whatever he wrote, it was just too much for them. You can see them turn away defeated and unconverted by this gentle teacher. Even as they depart you can almost hear them muttering among themselves, “He hasn’t heard the last of us. Some day we’ll find a way to corner him and make him bleed.” And that’s just what they finally did because Jesus’ plea for them to have a change of heart fell on closed ears.
That scene is ended. Let’s fast forward to now. Jesus is calling us also, to become like God right here on this fifth Sunday of Lent in the year 2007. Is he finding more response from us than he did from the Scribes and Pharisees of long ago? Are we, for example, more like God than we were five weeks ago when Lent began? Has this been a season of reconciliation and conversion for us, a time of growth in holiness?
There was a very powerful teaching in a Sunday Gospel reading that we heard just before Lent began. It was no accident that the Church placed that reading right were it was so that we would have something to sink our teeth into, real meat for us to chew and ponder over during our Lenten retreat. Surely you remember it. In that reading we heard Jesus say to his disciples, and to us, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” Powerful words. Did they touch our hearts and help us set our goals for Lent or did we turn away like the Pharisees and Scribes of old. Let’s spend a moment examining our conscience.
Today, am I more like God because, during this Lenten season I found ways to be more patient and considerate with my spouse, less harsh with my children, less obstinate with my parents, more ready to overlook the aggravating ways of those with whom I live, work, study, even worship? Unlike the Scribes and Pharisees who were so ready to expose the sins of others, am I ready to confess my own sinfulness so that I can hear Jesus say to me the words that freed the woman in our story “I do not condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”
This Lent is almost over. If it has been a time of growth, well done; but if we have not used well these past five weeks to become more like God, we need not despair. It’s not too late. Take to heart the message that the cantor proclaimed for us a few minutes ago.
“Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart for I am gracious and merciful.”
Jesus is ready to bend down once more, not just to write a message on the ground but to enter our very hearts and fill us with his Eucharistic presence so that we can, in fact, become like God.
TWO
Did you ever play charades at a party? You get pieces of paper and write down names of television shows, movies, songs. You choose up sides, someone watches the clock and then you start.
The first actor stands up and starts to pantomime the name of a movie or a song and everyone on each team starts yelling. Is this what your action sounds like, is this the word, is it a small word, big word, first letter? Soon, someone gets one or two words and everyone continues yelling out titles which include those two words in the title. At every party where the game is being played there is one person who isn’t doing a lot of yelling. That person is watching and listening and is usually quiet. This person is watching the pantomime and is trying to figure out the answer. He or she is into the game but just isn’t as loud or as noisy. This person is listening to the wrong answers. Despite the distractions of the party, despite the pressure of the game or the ticking of the clock and despite what anyone else is saying, this person may finally yell out an answer.
If it’s wrong he will be quiet for a moment and then yell out another one. Most of the time this person comes up with the name. He isn’t doing a lot of yelling or shouting but, finally, this person often comes up with the right answer. This person could be Jesus. Jesus would be great at charades. You see, the person who has control has a certain amount of calm and a lot of patience. They have a certain amount of peace about themselves in the midst of all the chaos going on around them. Sound familiar? This is Jesus.
Picture the scene we read about in the gospel. Everybody is mumbling, everybody is talking about what is going on. The Pharisees throw this lady down in front of Jesus and they put a question to Him. “What’s the answer to this problem, Jesus?” They’ve got a clock on him. He’s under the gun to give a quick answer... within seconds. But, what does He do with the excitement, the pressure and all the distractions around Him?
He quietly bends down and slowly starts tracing in the dirt. Quietly displaying a certain amount of patience and peace. He is very calm. Then He stands up and, instead of giving them an answer, He just says, “Well, you know, anyone who doesn’t have any sins go ahead and cast the first stone.” Then He bends down and starts tracing again in the ground.
Now, many interpretations have been put forward as to what He traced on the ground. There have been many homilists who felt that he wrote in the sand the sins of all the people who were there and, out of embarrassment and shame they disappeared when He stood up the second time. I’m not sure what He wrote. The point is that as soon as He started tracing in the ground, He brought some calm to the situation and to the people. He took the pressure off everyone, especially the young lady. Maybe he gave the people gathered there time to think. Maybe He gave them some time to have some insight into what was really happening and maybe the Pharisees realized they were there just to trap Jesus and to test Him. The point is that in a tense situation, Jesus remained calm and His demeanor spread to everyone around Him. He brought peace. His patience gave everyone else a chance to be patient. Out of that calm, peace and patience there came some insight.
I don’t think they all walked away because they were embarrassed. We all know human nature and in any group of people each person has many feelings within their hearts. I think Jesus brought calm and peace to those who were there.
Certainly, the lady found calm and peace.
When Jesus spoke to her it was without any pressure on her, without sending her on a guilt trip and without force, anger or outrage. He saved her life... He gave her some insight.
This is what we can expect from with Jesus. This is what we need to find in Jesus. Something, hopefully, that we have found already during this Lenten season and, if not, certainly something we can ask Jesus to give us in the final weeks before our Easter celebration. Jesus brings peace. Jesus brings a calming influence to our lives. He establishes and offers patience and, in this, He offers insight to our mind, heart and spirit.
Soon, things are going to get crazy because of all the family celebrations and the Easter celebration itself. When families get together there’s a lot to do in order to enjoy the occasion. Now is an especially good time to ask Jesus to bring to us with what he offered to that crowd. If we haven’t used this Lenten season to its best, there is time to use the last final weeks as best we can and ask Jesus for what we need to most… insight to figure things out and patience to deal with what’s going on in our lives. He can bring calm and a certain peace of spirit that we can use and offer to other people. Picture is as if you were playing charades. We have to figure out His messages. We have to study the clues He us during this Easter season. The message some from the Church and from the scriptures. Remember, also, God is talking to us directly in our own prayers. We have to discern the titles and the messages. The best way to do this is to remember the game of charades. There is usually one person who is just a little more quiet and a little more patient while everyone is going crazy all around him. You be the calm person. I think Jesus is that person. He’d be great at a party.
So, it is especially important to us to remember right now that we should ask Jesus to offer us what He offered that crowd. We must use it His example and share it with those people He brings into our lives. Offer it to them in service to Jesus and praise of our Father and with the sharing spirit He offers to us because He loves us.
Have a good Easter!!!!
THREE
If St. John, the author of today's Gospel, would have entered this episode in a national short story contest, he would certainly have won first prize. This story of the woman taken in adultery is packed with every element of that which makes a story powerful and memorable. There is drama, pathos and mercy.
Yes, there is drama in this story -- a classic confrontation between Jesus and his old enemies, the Scribes and the Pharisees. You can almost hear them saying, "Now we've got you." Several times they had tried to trap Jesus, without success. "Master, which is the greatest of the commandments?" "Is it lawful to pay tribute to Caesar?" "If a man marries seven times and dies, who is his wife in Heaven?" And He escaped every trap they laid for him. But today, they say, "You can't get away. We've got you." But He did get away, so deftly that they didn't even pause long enough to shout a curse against Him. They just walked away quietly. There was plenty of drama.
And there is mystery here, too. What was it that He was doing with the stick on the ground? Was He simply poking the ground a few times with His head bowed in shame and embarrassment at what the Scribes were trying to do. Or did He, as some think, actually begin to write on the ground the sins of those men for everyone to see? The gospel doesn't tell us. The mystery has never been solved.
And there is pathos, too. The poignant scene of a woman who has been stripped of all human dignity, degraded in her own eyes and in the eyes of her accusers. The two, Jesus and the woman, finally stand alone in the square, and mercy and misery look into each other's eyes.
This, too, is a beautiful story of God's mercy. What Jesus did not do is as important as what he did do. He did not rant and rave at the woman. Nor did He attack the Law of Moses, which provided for the stoning someone who was taken in adultery. Nor did He attack her would-be executioners. He bawled out no one.
These are the things that Jesus did NOT do. But what did He do? First of all, he overcame evil with good. He saw misery and he wiped out that misery with understanding and forgiveness.
Second, He made the would-be executioners do some thinking. They may have been vicious men but they were also intelligent and it would be a fair guess that never again in their lifetimes would they charge anyone publicly with crime without hearing that statement ringing in their ears, "The one among you who is innocent '' let him cast the first stone." Finally, and most importantly, Jesus restored to that woman her dignity. We can put up with losing many things in this life.
We can lose our income, our freedom, even our health and still hold on. But one thing no person can tolerate is losing his dignity, his sense of self worth, his self esteem. Take that away and there is nothing left to live for. Money is useful but not indispensable. Imprisonment can't enslave the human spirit. The mind can stay healthy and active in a diseased body. However, our personal dignity is so identified with our total being that to take it away causes an irreparable loss.
In both last Sunday's story of the prodigal son and today's story of the woman taken in adultery, God does the same thing for the sinner and He promises the same thing to you and to me. He does not defend evil; He defends evildoers against all those fakes and phonies who fail to sympathize with our human problems. And because He understands and forgives, it becomes possible for us to regain that which is most precious in our lives--our human dignity.
FOUR
“Let he who is without sin, throw the first stone.” The challenge of Jesus to the scribes and Pharisees is itself “lapidary”, like the direct hit of a stone. It penetrated deeply into their consciences that they might understand their own hypocrisy. Think what joy there would have been if, instead of retiring to lick their wounds, they had said to Jesus, “we have sinned, have mercy on us”! Hypocrisy is the unspoken elephant in everyone’s heart, except, of course, the Hearts of Jesus and of His Blessed Mother. In our secret selves, we can relish hypocrisy, because it gives us a sense of superiority and self-righteousness; it fires the zealot in us to show outrage against the sins of others and holy fanaticism for the love of God’s law. At the same time, we hate it because it can betray or blackmail us at any time. Hypocrisy convinces us we have the right and duty to be the conscience of others, as if we ourselves were both the inner and the outer voice of God and, so, in no need of a conscience of our own. Indeed, hypocrisy would put us above God and others, for we assume for ourselves the task of judging when God’s law applies (just in case He is not aware of it) and how and to whom it applies.
Those who brought the woman to Jesus were not wrong in their knowledge of what the law said or in their assertion about what she had done. No doubt many others had perished at their hands for the same thing. What they failed to understand was that Jesus knew the reality of sin to extend well beyond a certain number of prescribed, external acts, without excluding those acts. Sin is born in the heart and, while it might pass through the body in actions and words, it returns to the heart with triumphant, reinforced pride. Jesus also brought with Him a new and more radical way of destroying sin, yet sparing the sinner. It is the way of mercy and truth, revealed in His most comforting words: “Does no-one condemn you? Neither do I.” That is mercy. “Go and sin no more.” That is truth. Jesus aims for the heart to pierce it with the sword of His saving word. In the instance we are considering, it is as if He says: yes, you have sinned; yes, your sin must be condemned; but, yes, I condemn your sin by taking it on myself; yes, by my mercy, I restore you to freedom from sin; go, and stay free in the freedom of my mercy and truth. The accused, the condemned, is no longer the sinner, but Jesus, the sinless one. The sin He expels from us through mercy, He takes vicariously on Himself. By His sacrificial death, however, He expels that sin from Himself forever. With the death of Christ, sin has thus been expelled from creation; with His death, there is a new creation. Those who freely cling to sin are thus destined to remain in the old creation, a creation which is passing away and will ultimately be destroyed. Those who freely cling to Christ in His and in their own death will be “born again”, be re-created, be redeemed, be raised up from the dead. Such are the deep and eternal truths of salvation contained in seed form in the encounter between Jesus, the adulterous woman and the scribes and Pharisees.
It must be said again. Jesus would have given forgiveness to each of those who had a stone in his hand, had he just dropped it and reached out to Him. He did all He could do to cause an earthquake in their consciences and make them come to their senses, as did the prodigal son, but they would not, did not, come to Him; instead, they left Him, as did perhaps the prodigal son’s elder brother after disagreeing with his Father. Such is the drama of human freedom. Of course, one might argue that the woman did not come to Him either; is it fair that she was forgiven and they not? We can only surmise how Jesus knew she was open to Him, apart, of course, from stating that the only person to whom Jesus was ever unfair was Himself.
She did not confess her sin in the way we would do in the confessional. But, in her case, was there any need? Caught “in the act”, and with no sign of denying it in front of her accusers or Jesus, her confession would have been superfluous. More importantly, however, she hears the dialogue between Jesus and her accusers, and realizes with astonishment that Jesus sees far beyond external actions to the heart of all. She perceives His divine mercy; she perceives His saving intent; she perceives that He perceives the truth of all motivations; and, perhaps for the first time in her sorry life, she begins to know the joy, the hope of truly being loved for who she is, not for what she has to offer. Here before her was the only man who had the right to lift a stone and to condemn her; and He did not do it, because He came, not to condemn, but to seek out and save the lost.
Note that Jesus does not simply “err on the side of mercy”, in a kind of, “we’ll let it go this time” attitude. He is not turning a blind eye; He sees very clearly, and He speaks very clearly. He brings to light the sin of both the accusers and of the accused. The one party He cannot forgive because they will not confess their sins clearly even by the gesture of drawing close to Him; the other He can and does forgive, and forgive mightily, for the reasons already described. Mercy first brings to light what is dark; it then absorbs and destroys the evil and restores new life to the one who had been its victim. Mercy does not highlight the dark for the dark’s sake, but for the light’s sake. Mercy accuses so as to lead the accused to life, not to death, unless that is what the accused freely prefers. Except for the case of those who are physically or morally incapable of it, the Church, because Christ Himself, requires us to reveal, to confess, to bring to the light, our sins so that we can be forgiven them. If we feel humiliated by confessing, the humiliation is the result of our sins, not of the sacrament. You cannot blame the doctor for your sickness. Jesus is not to blame for the woman’s adultery. It is not for no reason that sin seeks to remain hidden, secret, sly and elusive. In this way, it can achieve its aim of doing more damage to the sinner, like a tumor infiltrating the soul. The more you resist confession because you are embarrassed or humiliated, the more effective sin is doing its sorry and destructive job. How easy it is to rationalize not confessing, sometimes even with motives we call spiritual. Whenever we confess our sin with sincerity and humility, the Jesus of our text returns in the person of the priest, and the hope and joy which the adulterous woman had, will be ours. The soul of the one who is not at rights with God will necessarily flag. But the humble penitent will be renewed with the strength and vitality of the eagle.
In life there are many things we would like to forget, and maybe even do forget, because the sharp pain they bring is too much to bear. Yet, the more we “forget” them, the more they can hurt, for they seek remembrance, expression and resolution. They seek to give back to our love at least part of the self we have forgotten. Some of those things are not our fault, some are partly our fault and some are completely our fault. But they all hurt. You will recall the story of Thomas doubting that Jesus was risen until he had touched the scars on His body for himself. We call these the glorious wounds of Jesus, and certainly none of them can be said to be His fault. Jesus still carries in His risen body those wounds he received for our sake. In some way, they are the jewels on His trophy. By those wounds, we are healed; in those jewels we are made rich. Perhaps this should be our model, our way of treating our own wounds. Our inner self still carries the scars, the wounds of our lives. They may not make living impossible, but they do make happiness very difficult. While we cannot spend our time “licking” those wounds, we might need to try to understand them and how they have made us who we are, or who we are not, today. The adulterous woman’s wounds became her doorway to hope, joy and, we might surmise, healing. None of this could have happened, however, without Him who is “the Door”, the holiest of all holy doors: is this the “Door” of the confessional? While it is true that sacramental absolution is necessary for the healing of the wounds that are our own fault, we should remember that Jesus does not limit the power of His merciful love only to those wounds. In the introduction to the formula of sacramental absolution, the priest says: “Through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace.” Peace! Peace with God, first of all, but a peace which, like a good nuclear explosion, mushrooms and fans outwards to the whole of our inner selves. Christ sees all the different types and intensities of wound which afflict our spirits. Evil of one kind or another is at the root of them all and, as we pray in the Mass, Jesus comes to “deliver us from every evil and protect us from all anxiety”.
I realize that understanding one’s own suffering and confusion is neither pleasant nor easy. Yet somehow we can never quite fully and truly be who we are unless we try to understand and accept it all. Acceptance is very hard without understanding, and understanding oneself is tough work. Jesus, by the power of His word, which understands all things, can and will lead us through the valleys and the shadows of death within us, to reach calm waters. He does not love just the part of us we present to Him. Nor is it fair to say to Him, “Lord I give you my whole self” and then turn from Him when He seeks to reveal to us who that whole self actually is. In contemplating us, His eyes, alight with delight, see the deep beauty within every soul, and His Heart desires each soul to work with Him to discover that beauty for itself. He does not just see the self we offer Him today; He sees in one merciful regard the whole fascinating mystery of the unfolding self that each of us has become, from the moment of conception, through all life’s yesterdays until the present moment. While we carry within us the memory of our whole lives, but cannot or do not want to see entire sections of that memory, Jesus does see them, He remembers everything. He is the one who can help us find and redeem our lost memory, the memory we either threw away in shame or disgust, or was somehow taken from us by others. If we let Him, He will insert our remembering into His remembering; He will enable us to remember who we truly are and are to become; He will heal all memories in the memory of Himself, of His unconditional love, of His unconditional availability and of His unconditional forgiveness. Ultimate healing of the human being is only possible in the ultimate human being, Jesus the loving Christ, the Prince of Peace.
Although we may have good reason to fear sufferings, past, present or future, there is, with Christ, ultimately, nothing to fear. Jesus will not stone us. The only stone He gives us is Peter, the Rock, standing on whom we need fear not even the gates of hell. Should the whole world itself condemn us for our flagrant sins and justly demand our condemnation, the Christ in whom our hearts have sincerely trusted and hoped will bid us joyful welcome through the gates of Paradise. There is an adulterous woman in us all; there is a scribe and Pharisee in us all; and, if we can but dare to hope it, there is a Christ in us all. Once we embrace this three-fold truth, there will be no more accusers or accused, no more adultery, no more stones. Instead, we will all be strong enough to drop them, to reach out for His rescuing hand, for one another’s hands and maybe, then, be able to join our own hands in prayer to the Merciful Jesus, a prayer which is, at last, free from all hypocrisy.
Gospel Reflection 20070318
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the land."
If you were raised on the Terminator and Prince of Persia being meek sounds wimpish. The Beatitutes challenge us to think differently.We are taught to win — football games, wars, arguments. But Jesus turns the world's values upside down.
When he said, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the land," Jesus was using the biblical meaning of "meek" as "unassuming and tolerant." Truly meek people don't throw their weight around. They are gentle, but with firm faith. They are peaceable without compromising. They can restrain their anger, be tolerant, and are not overbearing. Equally, they are not wimps, or spiritless, or overly submissive.
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The Peak of Divine Mercy
March 18, 2007
Fourth Sunday of Lent
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32
The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to him, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." So to them he addressed this parable. Then he said, "A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ´Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.´ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, ´How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."´ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ´Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.´ But his father ordered his servants, ´Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.´ Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ´Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.´ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ´Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.´ He said to him, ´My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.´"
The format is a little different this week. I was able to find four excellent Homilies (each focusing on different aspects and details of this “Prodigal Son” Gospel) concerning this famous Gospel Reading, and have included each Homily in its entirety:
ONE
With our Gospel reading for today we, once again, have the lovely story of the Prodigal Son brought to our attention. Arguably, it is one of the most favorite and meaningful of the stories of the Lord. The younger son, the Prodigal Son, has always been accepted as the star of the parable. But, many who reflect on the event look to the father as the central figure. He lavishes love and compassion upon both of his sons. He recognizes the independence of the younger who wishes to leave with his inheritance in hand. He is conscious of the anger of the elder who feels unloved and excluded when the so dumb wayward brother receives such a celebration and welcome when he returns home. Notice, the father is not mean or angry with either. He condemns no one. In each instance he goes to his sons --- watching the road for the homecoming of the prodigal, and leaving the house to go outside to talk with the angry and pouting elder son. It is the two sons, each in his own way, who diminish and tear themselves down. The younger, not recognizing the immense love of his father, feared that he would not be allowed back in the home; the elder with his selfishness, his envy and jealousy and with his resentment demonstrates vividly his imperfections. To the very end the father impresses on both of them the love he had for them --- he is their father and this is their home, “All I have is yours!”
Do we have herein lessons that should be valuable for parents of all ages? Could it be that parents can profit greatly from the wonderful story? Instead of rehashing the stupid carrying-ons of the younger son, and the ugly selfishness of the older son, what about the wonderful handling of the affair by the father? In each instance, to the wastefulness of the younger and the stinginess of the elder, he reacts with a compassion that embraces them completely. It has been said that “Here was a parent who comprehended what it meant to bring a child into existence and to stand by to nourish that life whatever circumstances may bring.”
I wonder how many parents would act as did the father when the younger son came to him requesting his inheritance, the share of the wealth that the father would leave to the sons later on. It seems that the father trusted the son completely, without argument. He does not give advice to the effect that the son is too young to make such a decision, He does not complain that the kid was irresponsible. He does not bargain with him --- suppose I give you half now, and the rest later on. The young man had decided that he wanted out on his own. He was ready to take on life by himself. He wants to be free and unconfined with the wealth and riches that the father had gained for him. And, amazingly, the father accedes to the wishes of the son. He gives him the full amount of that which was his inheritance, and, probably, with his blessing sends the young son out into the free world. Hard to believe! Is this any way for a father to act?
The story seems to say so. When the young son made such an ass of himself with his squandering his inheritance in not just frivolous, but absolutely immoral and obscene ways, he finally, when he realized that the pigs were faring better than he was, “coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here I am, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father . . .’”
In my mind, one of the lovely scenes of the story is the father frequently climbing the hill that would enable him to see the son returning; he expected him to return. If he, the father, had acted in a more stern and strict and angry way when the son left, perhaps he would never have returned. He did not throw the boy out of the house and family. He never closed the door. He prayed and hoped that the young man would come to his senses, and miracle of miracles, he did. Apparently this father filled his office as father in a wonderful way.
And so it was with the elder son and his foolishness. When the elder son refused to come into the house, the father goes out to plead with him. Without anger or rancor, but with compassion and love the father says simply: “My son, you are with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and now has been found.” I would like to believe that the elder son, as did the younger, “came to his senses” and became a real part the family’s celebration.
I am sure that it is most difficult at times for parents to retain a cool head and warm heart when the children can be such unbearable, stingy, selfish, irresponsible, dumb nincompoops. But I also am sure that the path taken by the father in the story will more often be the right and correct way to go. I know the old saying, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” But I also know the saying that “more flies are caught with a spoonful of honey than with a barrel of vinegar.” And especially the old adage, “Children are to be loved, not understood!” The Prodigal Father simply walks as does Our Father in heaven with His philosophy, love and compassion. It would behoove every parent to walk that same path.
TWO
During the recent years, I have heard many homilies and opinions about how the older son in the story of the Prodigal Son was more sinful than the younger son. After all, the younger son came home and asked his father for forgiveness while the older son was very resentful about the whole situation.
Well, the older son reminds me, in a good way, of many people whom we know-perhaps even ourselves. He is obedient, dependable and faithful to his family. He is there when you need him. He works hard, usually in the background, helping everyone. He is loyal and you do not have to tell him more than once about what to do. Basically, he is the kind of a son that parents dream about.
Many biblical scholars, much smarter than I, have said that the father in the story represents God because of his complete forgiveness towards the younger son. I am not so sure that I completely agree with that because, to me, the father has taken the older son for granted-and God does not do that. For example, when was the last time, if ever, that the father praised him in front of other people and told him that he was grateful for all his good work? Even more, when was the last time that the father told him that he loved him and thanked God every day for him? Who knows? Maybe never. Maybe the father doted only on the younger son.
So, maybe we can resonate with the older son too. He is like the mother who keeps the family together emotionally, spiritually and physically, but who is utterly taken for granted, like an unpaid servant. He is like the father who works 2 jobs, sacrificing his own wants and pleasures so his kids can go to catholic schools, but is taken for granted. He is the loyal worker who puts in extra hours without complaining, taking no phony sick leave, but is taken for granted. He is the mailman, the garbage collector, the one who mows your lawn, the nurse who works the midnight shift, but is taken for granted. In other words, he is us.
And then, let someone else who is uncaring and egotistical do something decent for the first time in their lives or have good luck and the whole world throws a party for them. The older sons and daughters look at this and just shake their heads. It is just not fair.
Now do you see why I do not think that the father in the story only represents God? To me, there is sin enough to go around for everyone-the sin of the younger son who insulted his father and then fled to another city to have a "good time"-the sin of the father who graciously forgave the younger son but forgot to hug his older son and tell him how important he was to the family. So, what was the sin of the decent older son? His sin is something that plagues many good and decent people. His sin was that of an ungenerous heart-the sin of a hardened heart.
This reminds me of a woman I know. We will call her Lily. One day she told me that she was very upset with herself. Her younger sister was moving back to St. Louis. Lily wanted to be happy, just as happy as her mother was. But, she was not happy and it did not make any sense to her. Since her father died, Lily had been taking care of her mother all by herself. She would call her mother twice a day. She would take her mother to the movies and had her over for dinner 2 or 3 times a week. Lily bought the groceries, took care of her finances, cleaned her apartment and brought her communion when her mother was too sick to go to Mass. And, now that her sister was coming home, she would not have to do everything by herself. She should by happy to have the help, but she wasn't. So, what was wrong with Lily?
Well, for one thing, Lily will no longer have her mother exclusively for herself. Lily, not her sister, has been there all the time, like the older son in the story, caring for her mother-day in, day out. And now, this younger sister is coming home and displacing her. Lily is afraid that people will forget all she did for her mother. And, worst of all, her mother will probably throw a huge party for her sister.
Lily has an ungenerous heart towards her sister. Her identity is threatened and she does not like it. She feels that she will not be appreciated for everything that she has done-that she will be diminished.
As we travel the spiritual path, we have to resist this ungenerous heart because, if we do not resist it, we, too, will become like the older brother. We, too, will not be able to rejoice at God's gift of his grace to other sinners who have repented.
We can go a long way toward our own peace and joy and a truly generous spirit if, especially during Lent, we remember that God is in charge, not us. We must remember that God sees everything that we do and that God is pleased with us-and that God will never ever take us for granted.
Let us remember the father's words to the older son, "My son, you are here with me always. Everything I have-everything is yours". Now, isn't that a great thing to remember when our hearts begin to become hardened and ungenerous? We are heirs of God-his children. Think about that!
THREE
Today's readings from Luke speak not only of our sinfulness, but also of our capacity to forgive. We have only to reflect on our own sins to realize how dependent we really are on the grace of Our Lord in order to get it right. Sin is certainly missing the target, as the Hebrew would tell us. It certainly is! To miss the mark in our life is really to cause injury to ourselves and to our neighbors. Our actions either have the capacity to create or to destroy, to be loving or selfish. It has to be one or the other.
Truthfully, many of us have been very critical of our past presidential administration and the environment that was created. True, most of us never took satisfaction in discovering what we would have called an atmosphere that at best can be described as amoral. Yet, who are we to judge - we who are sinners?
Luke would rather have us consider the role of the father in today's reading. Here we have the father roaming his property each day to glimpse from a distance the return of his son. He would study the landscape in expectation of the returning son . . . only to be disappointed each and every day. This disappointment in no way discouraged him from possessing an attitude of anticipating the moment when he could physically display his love for his son and restore the son to wholeness. Finally, the day arrived when the father's desire was fulfilled as he saw his son returning home.
We all know the story wherein the father does not allow his son to complete his contrition, but rather orders his servants to restore his son to his office in life: that of son-ship.
Perhaps we can profitably study this parable from another angle. It is that the father not only restored the son to his state in life, but that the father (if we use an earthly one), a sinner like us, was able to restore life. If we act on impulses the way the son did, we prevent ourselves from creating. In fact, we become deadened and isolated. Yet, on the other hand, it is for us to really become like the father and create life for others. The father's capacity to love engendered within him the power of restoring life to his son and, in so doing, elevated the father to his capacity to be God-like! The father was a true partner with God in restoring life to his son. He was a life giver.
Again considering the father as a good, earthly father, and therefore distinct from the Fatherhood of God - now, this figure, graced for sure by God, loves at a level that restores full life to a son. There is no time for recriminations, for anger or lectures. Rather, the father knows how broken the son is, both spiritually and physically. Restoration as a son instantly creates the possibility for the son to be son, and thus free to respond as a whole person filled with gratitude and an ardent desire to contribute to the welfare of the family.
Not so long ago in the western part of India, over 30,000 people lost their lives to an earthquake registered at 7.9 on the Richter scale. The world responded with so many interventions, including but not limited to teams of rescue workers, donations of money and goods, prayer, medical assistance, etc. Thousands and thousands of people responded generously to India in her need. The composition of this effort included men and women, sinners like you and me! Yet, in this selfless pursuit of conveying oneness with the citizens of India, those who assisted reaffirmed the state that Christ had called them to: discipleship. They rose to identify with the needs of their Indian brothers and sisters in a manner that speaks of the mystical body. They were, and continue to be, partners with God!
Where do we go from here? To begin with, we do not have the right to judge a person. This does not mean that we should not judge actions and intentions that are harmful or injurious to others and, if possible, take prudent steps to prevent them. Rather, our energies should be directed to preserving and supporting life in all its forms. To accomplish this, it is necessary that we reflect and pray, asking God how He wants to lead us. It is the movement of the heart that counts which can only take place if we are capable of discerning the pattern of the Spirit working within us. It is only through prayer and reflection that we can ever hope to comprehend and act upon the influence of the Spirit.
Surely during our own lives, we have experienced the shame of the son - for we have sinned. And during those times, we have become deadened - cut off from a proper relationship to God Our Father, to our brothers and sisters, and, sadly - yes, to ourselves.
On the other hand, we, too, have been invited to be life givers to others. As such, it is for us to draw the lessons from Luke's figure of the father who rose above his own son's recriminations to love well - well enough to restore life.
As such, the father became Christ-like. He created hope and joy, relief and kindness to a broken youth, and instantly transformed him into a person whose capacity to reciprocate was at hand. In short, he was a life giver!
FOUR
“From the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.” These words of Jesus apply above all to His own Heart. The parable of the prodigal son reveals the “stuff” of which the Heart of Jesus is made. It tells us above all that He knows the Heart of God the Father, and it tells us the story of man’s sinfulness from the viewpoint of the Father’s Heart.
Jesus identifies two types of son and sinner, one more obvious and flamboyant and the other more subtle and routine. Both essentially ignore their greatest treasure, which is to be sons of the Father, and, ungratefully, they focus greedily on the material things which the Father gives them simply because they are His sons and He loves them. However, the two sons neither understand nor appreciate the Heart of the Father; rather, they are obsessed with themselves, their own preferences, their own good pleasure. This is all too evident in the younger son, and barely masked in the older. Neither any longer sees the Father as Father, and so no longer understands what it means to be son or, therefore, brother. Their ingratitude has made them orphans, their greed has stolen their dignity and sense of solidarity. The root sin of the parable is not found in the leaving of the younger as opposed to the staying of the older; it is not that the younger womanized and the older wanted to socialize; it is not that younger wasted money as opposed to the older saving it; nor is it that the older refused to join the feast as opposed to the younger sailing right in; it is not that the older was angry as opposed to the younger being repentant; it is not the jealousy of the older as opposed to the trust of the younger. There are, surely, many faults involved in all of these, and we must see them and call them for what they are. But, the root sin is that the hearts of both of them were closed to the love of their Father. Indeed, one has the impression that they manipulate and use their Father in order to get out of Him their selfish wants. The Father is no longer Father, but an obstacle to their inheritance.
Being physically close or far from the Father is not what constitutes love or lack of love for Him. Certainly closeness ought to mean at least a desire to love Him, yet the older son’s attitude is fraught with anything but love. When Jesus once told the apostles that they must renounce everything for His sake, Peter asked the question, “What are we to get for following you?” This is, alas, the typical expression of human self-seeking. Likewise, both the younger and the older son were driven by the question, “what can I get out of Him?”. It is the poison of all relationships, it is the poison of original sin in which man reaches out and tries to “get the godhead” for himself. Consumerism is old as the hills and as dangerous as the serpent’s bite. Dressed up in seductive words and images and buoyed up by the secularist dogma that everything you want is good and no-one has a right to stop you, we literally choke ourselves, drown ourselves, exhaust ourselves in our own unbridled appetites. Though legitimate up to a point, the “what about me?” attitude can lead to murderous self-centeredness. It can be easily perceived, masked and unmasked, behind the decaying dimensions of contemporary society, at least in the West.
The words of Jesus come to mind: “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but ruins his very self?” It is easy to see how greed is idolatry, how in gorging the heart, it actually steals it from us just as it steals our ability to recognize or believe in the sincerity of the love of others. In our misery, no matter how happy we may think we are, the Heart of the Father suffers for us, pines for us to reclaim our hearts from the ruin of greed to the salvation of self-surrender unto Him. For His gifts are given out of love, that we might be drawn, each and all, to His Heart, and not that we might ruin our own.
In His words about what the Father says to the older son, “you are here with me always: everything I have is yours”, Jesus is telling us that, as far as the Father is concerned, simply being with Him is already to possess everything. We can have nothing greater than God Himself: to be with Him is everything. We cannot take our relationship with God for granted, nor banish it to some far-off realm we might consider irrelevant to our daily lives. The parable of the prodigal son is, among many other things, a call to remember the First Commandment: “I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods but me.” First things first. In taking God for granted, we begin to ignore Him, manipulate His gifts, create enmity with one another and fall into the whirlpool of self-destruction. To fail to keep the first commandment makes observance of the rest nigh impossible. To ignore God as God, and Him alone as God, no matter how much one claims to know Him or be near Him, is to lose the foundation of one’s own identity. If God is known in truth, then He will necessarily be loved in truth, and one’s own humanity will flourish and blossom like the lily. Personal and communal integrity are impossible without direct reference to and dependence upon God. The fact of the matter is that, if God alone is not the Father, the Almighty, then anyone and anything can become god. God is not a mere factor in the social equation –if, indeed He is even that- or in any other equation: He is the foundation of the possibility of all equations. God is not a useful theory to justify a conservative outlook over a liberal one or vice-versa; God cannot be invoked as justification to do what is hateful in His sight. God is not a mascot, a security blanket, a drug, a principle, a big bang or a fascinating concept. God is God. God is not a bottomless pit of the kind of mercy we invent for ourselves to legitimize persistence in sin. God will not be mocked, and whoever manipulates Him does so at his own peril. God’s mercy is surely infinite, but if you do not desire that mercy as He reveals it, it will not, for it cannot, rescue you.
In our parable, Jesus portrays the Father as exquisitely respectful of the freedom of His sons. Divine love does not arrogate to itself the right to impinge upon human freedom in order to stop us from doing what we want to do. However, when we freely turn to Him, albeit just to find bread to eat or a calf to slay, His response of love is unmeasured. We cannot reasonably be angry with God’s generosity because He does not do what we would do: after all, who created whom? Had God followed our approach to things, Jesus would never have made it possible for us to return to our Father’s arms and festive hospitality. Once that return is made possible, we cannot say we want to be free to do what we want yet, when things go wrong, blame God for not saving us from our freedom! Either we are free or we are not: we are! Either God is free or not: He is! It is true, His love for us is so great that He comes as near as possible to our inner sanctuary of freedom, hoping to attract us to Himself. But He will never violate our sanctuary. He sends us many signs of His love: the order of creation, the Truth of His Son, His active providence for each and all. But He will not overwhelm us unless we signal to Him to do so, as happened in the case of the younger son when the Father ran to embrace him while he was yet a long way off. Although still in the house with him, it is tragic that the older son was actually the one who, by his own volition, was, and remained, the most distant from His Father.
We are all aware, I think, that the drama of the two sons, not to mention the more painful drama of the Father, is still as relevant today as ever it has been. As a civilization, many of those in leadership, and those hoping for it, many of those responsible for forming public opinion and policy, have effectively and efficiently removed even the memory of God the Father from life itself. We are rapidly becoming a society of orphans, a fatherless society, a godless society. Recent trends of thought, such as atheism or agnosticism, are not, I believe, at root to blame for this. Worrying though they are, they are not as worrying as those who say they believe in God but actually exclude Him except in appearances and provided He does not get in the way of their plans for humanity. But if God is who we say He is, can we really separate Him from any dimension of human existence, individual or collective? The autonomy of the secular order is only legitimate when it does not presume itself to be exempt from the judgment of God. Human beings can make even God an object of consumerism: “we want You there, not here! We want you then, not now!” The issue is immensely complex and the nervousness about it, while understandable and not all unjustified, is considerable. However, these should not prevent us from defending and promoting a world-view which is compatible at least with the First Commandment and with the underlying wisdom of the parable of the prodigal son. Such a view is monotheistic without being theocratic, but it requires to be re-articulated with total fidelity to God and convincing reasonableness to modern civilization. For those Christians who, knowingly or unknowingly, have drifted completely away from Him –and we are all in danger of that- we must pray that they will remember their Father’s House and, as the text says, come to their senses. No-one will be convinced to return, however, if we ourselves fail to witness to the mercy of God in the way we deal, dialogue and discuss with others. It is telling that no mention is made in the parable of any greeting between the younger and the older brother. If we are among those who think they are still “at home”, anger is the last thing we should be showing to those we think are not.
Only Jesus can give us the wisdom and courage of mind and heart needed to be the pathway by which others can come back to God. His Heart, in oneness with the Father and the Holy Spirit, is abundant in meekness and gentleness. May ours be one with His, for He is the only life-giving source of what our mouths can speak in witnessing to the merciful supremacy of God the Father.
Gospel Reflection 20070311
Sin is not only a private affair, but one that concerns our relationships to the larger community—to society, both local and global.
In addition to stress on the inner attitude of an individual, the Church is increasingly aware of our social responsibilities. Vatican II's Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (#30) insists that the contemporary Christian cannot rest content "with a merely individualistic morality. It grows increasingly true that the obligations of justice and love are fulfilled only if each person, contributing to the common good,...also promotes and assists the public and private institutions dedicated to bettering the conditions of human life."
What the Church is telling us today is that it is not enough to examine ourselves merely in terms of personal piety, but also in terms of our contributions to the good or evil of society.
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Finding Fruit
March 11, 2007
Third Sunday of Lent
Luke 13:1-9
At that time some people who were present there told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices. He said to them in reply, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did! Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them -- do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!" And he told them this parable: "There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ´For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. So cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?´ He said to him in reply, ´Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.´"
It seems that, more and more, the Church must put the message of Christ in the warning terms which Christ Himself uses in today’s Gospel. Were we to apply the spirit of these texts to modern times we might well ask: Were the 3,000 people annihilated at Ground Zero more guilty than the rest of us? Are the millions of innocent children suffering from HIV/AIDS more guilty than the rest of us? Are not these horrific tragedies warnings also to us? Or do we live thinking that death will never come to us? Do the sweetness of freedom without responsibility, rights without truth and the unspoken dread of changing our lives to live righteously and piously before God lull us into moral and religious oblivion? Do we insist all the more on our freedoms because we smart all the more at admitting the truth? Do we want more freedom to compensate for the pressures, demands and unbearable tedium and stress of our daily existence? Are we angry at God for being God and at ourselves for being ourselves, that is, not God?
I ask many questions and offer few answers; I seem to focus on the shadows and forget the bright signs of hope around us and among us. I know. But not everything can be said in one go: I hope you understand that I take my cue from the Gospel of today in which Jesus, our Hope and our Light, demands of us to consider the bitter shadows in order to stir ourselves to sweet repentance, which is nothing other than the discipline of falling in love with Him. If I recall one doctrine above, I do so inseparably with another: it is the unfailing mercy of Christ given through His Church to those who seek to obey, but fail on the way. Mercy is not an excuse to justify disobedience, but a remedy to strengthen us to seek and find the freedom of obedience.
Jesus, in St. Luke's gospel, warns us against becoming complacent. He warns us, "Those who think they are secure should take care not to fall."
In today's gospel, Jesus uses the current news events of that day as an example to talk about the punishment of God for those who do not accept the gift of salvation. Apparently, there was outrage among the Jews over the mingling of blood from animals sacrificed to pagan idols and the blood of some Galilean insurrectionists. They wondered what sin these Galileans had committed to deserve such a disgracing death.
Jesus tells them that these tragic deaths had nothing to do with the personal sins of the individuals. However, He warns them that they will suffer a similar fate if they do not repent. This is really the central message of the Gospels. "Repent, the Kingdom of God is at hand I". We are chosen to be delivered from sin and death. We are given the Spirit to guide and direct our actions. We are strengthened by the Eucharist to stay on the road which leads to the Promised Land, but if we do not repent, continually reform our lives, and renew our commitment to living as God's Chosen people, we will be punished. The security we thought we had will be taken away.
Sisters and brothers, now is the time to purify ourselves, repent, and renew our commitment to live as People of God. We want to live as God's Chosen people. We do not want to follow the complacency of God's first Chosen People. We must not "take on the yoke of slavery a second time," turn to the false idols of our passing pleasures, or grumble against God when we think He has abandoned us. We must be committed to the journey, confident that Jesus, our New Moses, will lead us safely, guide us with His Spirit, sustain us with His own Body and Blood, and lead us to the new Promised Land of Heaven.
Bitter-sweet describes well the taste of hard, personal decisions. Decisions always seem to be dilemmas since a “yes” to one option inevitably means a “no” to others, and those others are often not easy to give up. Although I should always choose what is truly good, what I know to be truly bad can also appear incredibly good. It is easy to fall gradually in love with evil, not because it is evil, but because it appears to be so good. Conversely, it can be difficult to fall in love with what is truly good, not because it is truly good, but because it can appear hard, arduous and downright bad. I see the sweetness of evil in the deceptive beauty it displays, but once I bite it the honey turns to acid inside me. I see the bitterness of the good in the real toil and effort it demands of me, but once I taste it I savor the mature richness of life and love and the deep peace of knowing I have not struggled in vain.
As human beings, pilgrims in time and space, life spreads before us a banquet of choices. A right conscience commands us: “choose good and avoid evil!”, but not all consciences are always right, at least not in all things. Of themselves, human beings do not have a clear and definitive picture of what is good and what is evil. Of itself, conscience does not guarantee infallibly what is right, what is good or what is to be done. Human beings and moral conscience need the light of divine truth to know what is right and good. It is that truth which forms and informs right conscience; without it there is no universally valid right and wrong, but only what human beings want and want to justify on the convenient, but questionable, basis of the shifting sands of their personal or collective preferences. Every human being has a deep desire to be rid of a truth which impinges upon their freedom of choice, yet paradoxically he or she thirsts for that very truth. We want to be uninhibited, unrestricted and immune from responsibility to anyone but ourselves, yet deep down we also want to surrender to an unnameable Other, albeit our own immortalized self. When it comes to the crunch, however, freedom is sweet, truth bitter. Yet, it is the truth which makes us free, while freedom alone cannot make us true. Truth is a given, to be revealed or discovered; while freedom is also a given, it remains like a wild animal or a tornado without a path if its strength is not tamed, formed and directed towards choosing and loving the truth.
To learn the truth, to learn to love and to do the truth, is the meaning of discipline as it is the meaning of discipleship. Freedom without truth turns our soul into a fruitless fig-tree. A person who shouts “freedom! freedom!”, but does not root that freedom in the truth, becomes sterile. They waste not only their own freedom but also the truth, the ground in which they stand. Rights and freedoms are neither right nor free if they are not rooted in the truth. No amount of indignation or self-invented justification or clever, cosmetic argumentation, can make true what is only make-believe. Just as sterile fig-trees would render an orchard fruitless and “exhaust the soil”, so all who proclaim freedom without the truth can lay waste an entire community and, indeed, civilization itself. It will be too late if, having uselessly destroyed the soil, they then remonstrate with it for not feeding them. If the gardener waits too long before trying to save them, they will all have to be cut down, the soil will be wasted and the gardener himself dismissed.
For our salvation’s sake, it is of fundamental and urgent importance today that we keep continually and clearly in our minds the following doctrine of the Catholic faith: when our Holy Father the Pope, and the Bishops who are in communion with him (no matter how discredited some of them may be), teach us the bitter-sweet truth of what is right and wrong, good and bad, in matters of faith and morality relating to our salvation, it is Christ Himself who teaches us. All Catholics are therefore obviously obliged in conscience to receive such teaching with religious respect of both mind and will; even if they do not understand it from a purely intellectual or cultural perspective, it commands their obedience because Christ commands their obedience. The truth is often bitter, and freedom in matters we do not understand, or towards which we feel culturally hostile, is particularly sweet. But the gardener would be failing to fertilize the soil if he failed to teach the will of Christ above all in matters where the soul is in danger of sterility.
The Church’s magisterial authority does not teach unthinkingly as if intending to cut us off from the rich soil of Christ’s truth. She does not teach to condemn, but to call to repentance, something that sometimes requires strong and unapologetic statements. She does not teach in order to conserve some imaginary façade of feudalistic power over the faithful, but to serve their consciences with the tools to unmask the deceptive beauty of evil and to discern the true beauty of the good behind the appearances of difficulty or suffering. She does not teach in order to be counter-cultural or to make a name for Herself or to gain influence over political opinion nationally or internationally. No, She teaches at Christ the Lord’s own bidding to be “light to the earth”, to shine His light on the nations presently enveloped in the suffocating darkness of “respectable immorality”, terrorism, war, injustice, poverty, famine and disease. The Church is not the mistress of doom and gloom, but the Mother of light and hope to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. Those who do not want to listen to Christ’s truth will not listen to the Church; indeed, even among Her own children, She will be ridiculed and falsely accused of infidelity to Christ; and we should not be surprised if, or –perhaps better- when, in the persons of Her faithful members, She is persecuted both subtly and blatantly for defending the doctrine of the Lord Jesus. If the world hated Him, it will hate us no less. We must be vigilant, strong in faith and stronger still in loving and forgiving those who hate us.
This season of lent is a wake-up call for us, a time to be brutally honest with ourselves so that we come to know how deeply we depend on god’s mercy. The God we worship has proven to be loving, forgiving and saving throughout the history of our faith.
In today’s gospel, Jesus tells about a fig tree that never bears fruit. Like any sensible farmer, the owner thinks it’s probably time to get rid of it. But the guy who works in the field has a better idea. I’ll give it a big dose of loving care and then we’ll hope to see its branches bend under the weight of juicy figs.
And that is exactly what Jesus does for us. He feeds us, not with fertilizer, but with his own body. He invites us to stop boasting and let him gently point out what we are doing wrong.
Eight-year-old jimmy was acting up. He refused to do what he was told to do, and did about everything he was told not to do. In desperation his father finally sent him to bed before the dessert was served. Just then a neighbor dropped in. he always liked jimmy, and after a while he asked the parents if he could talk to the boy.
With a prayer in his heart he reminded the lad that his disobedience displeased his parents and made them sad. Especially it displeased god. The boy began to cry: “what can I do?” the visitor called his parents who listened with tears in their eyes as jimmy told them he was sorry.
What that visitor did for jimmy, Jesus does for every one of us. That is the meaning of the story our lord tells us in today’s gospel.
The man who planted the fig tree is god. The fig tree means the chosen people of god, you and me. The vinedresser or worker in the vineyard is Jesus. In justice god the father decides to cut down the fruitless trees. Christ intercedes. He pleads and prays that we will have more time, another chance. For the sake of his son, the heavenly father gives us another chance. That is the story of our life with Christ.
We have not borne fruit. We have not done what we were created to do. We have even done what god told us not to do. We have disobeyed his ten commandments. We have not produced.
You can’t blame god for being dissatisfied. He decides to remove us. But Christ intercedes, intervenes. Christ steps between us and god and asks for another chance.
Pleading for us is one of the principle tasks of Christ. He asks for mercy for us. He gets us another chance. Not only does he beg his father for forgiveness, Jesus begs for all the good things we need. That is one reason every official prayer of the church, especially in the holy sacrifice, winds up with the plea: through Jesus Christ our lord, or some variation of this thought.
There’s a rather famous painting that shows a young man playing chess with the devil.
They are playing for possession of the young man’s soul. The painting portrays the devil as having just made a brilliant move.
Chess players who study the arrangement of the chess pieces in the painting feel immediate sympathy for the young man. He has been put in a hopeless situation. He has been led down a blind alley with no exit.
Paul Murphy, a former world-class chess player, became intrigued by the painting. One day while studying the arrangement of the chess pieces, he saw something that no one else did.
Excitedly, he cried out to the young man in the painting, “Don’t give up! You still have an excellent move left. There’s still hope!”
That story fits in beautifully with the point Jesus makes in the parable of the fig tree today. Like the young man in the painting the fig tree seems lost. Then, suddenly, a ray of hope breaks through. Like the young man in the painting, the tree is not doomed after all. It gets a last-minute reprieve. It gets a last-minute “second chance.”
This is an important message for us. Because of Jesus we are never doomed, no matter how bad things seem. Because of Jesus there is still hope for us, no matter what situation we find ourselves in. because of Jesus there is always one more move left to make, no matter how late in the game it is.
This brings us to the most important point of all. How does all of this apply to our lives in a practical way?
All of us, to some extent, are like the young man in the painting and like the fig tree in Jesus’ parable. All of us, at one time or another have arrived at a point in life when it seemed that we were in a no-win situation. Perhaps some of us are at such a point right now in our lives.
Perhaps some situation threatens to engulf us and overwhelm us.
Perhaps some relationship threatens to destroy everything we believe in. Perhaps some problem has led us down a blind alley that seems to be a dead end.
It’s right here that today’s gospel has an important message for us. Because of Jesus Christ we are never doomed, no matter how bad things seem. Because of Jesus we always have one more move left. Because of Jesus there is still hope for us, no matter what the situation.
This is the lesson that’s contained in today’s scripture. This is the good news that we celebrate in today’s liturgy. And this is the message that god wants us to carry back into our world to share with others.
