Advent 4 - The Promise of Love

Last Sunday the third candle, that of joy, was lit along with the previous candles of hope and peace. We light them again as we remember that Christ will come again and bring us everlasting peace and joy. The fourth candle of Advent is the candle of love. Its light is meant to remind us of the love which God has for us. Jesus shows us God's perfect love. He is God's love in human form. The Scripture says that God so loved the world in giving God's only Son, so that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life. Love is patient, love is kind and envies no one. Love is never boastful or conceited, rude or selfish. Love isn't quick to take offense, it keeps no record of wrongs, does not gloat over other people's troubles, but rejoices in the right, the good and the true. There is nothing which love cannot face; no limit to love's faith, its hope, its endurance. Love never ends. We light this candle today to remind us of how God's complete and unconditional love is found in Jesus.

Loving God, we thank you for the gift of love shown to us perfectly

in Jesus Christ the Lord. Help us prepare our hearts to receive him.

Bless our worship. Help us to hear and do your word.

We ask it in the name of the One born in Bethlehem. Amen.

Who Are Your Messengers?

En este segundo domingo de Adviento, / es bueno para nosotros escuchar con atención a la oración: / "Dios de misericordia, / que enviaste a tus mensajeros, los profetas, / a predicar el arrepentimiento y preparar el camino de nuestra salvación: / Danos gracia para atender sus advertencias / y abandonar nuestros pecados, / a fin de que recibamos gozosamente / la venida de Jesucristo nuestro Redentor..."

¿Quiénes son sus mensajeros, sus "profetas"? /  Tal vez un amigo suyo? / Sus padres, o sus hijos? / El sacerdote? / El profeta podía ser un santo favorito? / O tal vez alguien que admiras, como Nelson Mandela o César Chávez? / O tal vez una persona por lamentarse, como Andy Lopez? / ¿Qué es lo que dicen tus profetas acerca de arrepentimiento y de preparar el camino para Jesús, que es nuestra "salvación"? /

Hoy cada lectura de la Sagrada Escritura / nos da algunas pistas con el fin de responder a esta pregunta. / En la Biblia, Dios envía mensajeros o profetas que hablan en nombre de Dios. / A veces, traen un mensaje esperanzador. / En otras ocasiones, es un mensaje de instrucción o aviso. / En cada caso el mensajero o profeta revela los deseos y las expectativas de Dios. /

En la primera lectura Isaías habla del Mesías, / lo de que el pueblo de Dios espera. / Isaías indica que este "Ungido" es único mensajero y profeta de Dios. / Él dice que la principal tarea del Mesías / es la de traer justicia para los pobres / y la igualdad de oportunidades / para aquellos que están débiles o desfavorecidos. / El "Ungido" enseñá al pueblo de Dios para no herir o destruir mutuamente. / Van a aprender a vivir juntos en paz. /

En la Epístola de San Pablo desea lo mismo: / "a vivir en armonía unos con otros", / "acéptense los unos a los otros", / y lo realizar como servidores a demás, / al igual que Cristo fue un servidor “de la verdad de Dios", / a fin de que todas las personas "glorifiquen a Dios por su misericordia". / Esta es la fórmula de alegría, / de paz / y esperanza abundante del Espíritu Santo. /

Por ultimo, / el evangelio describe la predicación de San Juan Bautista, / el mensajero y profeta clasico del adviento. / El Bautista predica en el desierto, / en un lugar donde no hay cosas que puedan distraer la atención de las personanas. / El desierto es el lugar tradicional /  donde, desde los días del Exodo, Dios llamaba a su pueblo a la conversión. / 

San Mateo subraya la austeridad personal del Bautista, / que nos recuerda al profeta Elías, y que ataca la conversión superficial y de apariencias de los fariseos que acudían a bautizarse. / Dios desea de todos una conversión interior sincera, / y no solamente despreocupada. / La conversión debe verse concretamente en sus frutos / y en la manera en que nos comportamos con Dios y con los demás. / El que no se convierte sinceramente para recibir a Jesús como Salvador, / lo recibirá y encontrará como juez. /

No hay que olvidar que Jesús viene en Navidad también esperando frutos de nosotros. / Todos necesitamos conversión. / Nos convertimos a Dios y nos convertimos hacia los demás por una vida de caridad / y de sincero interés por ellos, / especialmente por los necesitados. / Los ritos externos, hasta el del bautismo, ayudan poco / si no van acompañados de un esfuerzo sincero para hacer la voluntad de Dios. /

Los fariseos se adaptaban a los ritos externos cuando les convenía, / pero no aceptaban los valores, / la mentalidad / y las exigencias del Reino que Jesús anunciaba. / El bautismo sin conversión es tan ilusorio / para la salvación como el pretender ser hijo de Abrahán por el solo hecho de ser de raza judía; / el hijo es el que se comporta como su padre, / y que de tal palo tal astilla. / El ser hijo o hija de Abrahán debía traducirse en imitar la fe heróica del santo patriarcha /que creyó contras toda esperanza. /

San Mateo señala que el bautismo de agua debe ir acompañado del bautismo con el Espíritu / (de veracidad, / amor / y compromiso por los pobres / y con el fuego / (de purificación radical del amor de Dios). / San Juan Bautista recurría a un lenguaje de urgencia, / apocalíptico, / duro y violento, / para despertar a sus oyentes y moverlos a aprovechar la oportunidad de salvación que Dios les ofrecía. / La salvación, / la vida con Dios y con Jesús, / está siempre al alcance de la mano / y nos urge el recibirla. /

Escucha con atención a los mensajeros y profetas en su vida. / Hoy Dios nos llama a "atender sus advertencias y abandonar nuestros pecados". / Dios nos llama a la conversión, / que tipo de pruebas concretamente nuestra fidelidad a Dios. / Una prueba de este tipo sólo se encuentra en nuestras relaciones con los demás. / ¿Estamos dispuestos a someterse a esta conversión en la fe / para "que podamos saludar con alegría la venida de Jesucristo nuestro Redentor"?

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On this second sunday of Advent, it is good for us to listen closely again to the prayer: "Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with jSoy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer...”

Who are your messengers, your "prophets"? Perhaps a friend of yours? Your parents, or your children? your priest? Could your prophet be a favorite saint? Or maybe someone whom you admire, like Cesar Chavez? or perhaps a person for whom you grieve, such as Andy Lopez? What do your prophets tell you about repentance and about preparing the way for Jesus who is our "salvation"?

Each reading today from Holy Scripture gives us some clues in order to answer that question. In the Bible God sends messengers or prophets to speak in the name of God. Sometimes they bring a hopeful message. At other times it is a message of admonition or warning. In each case the messenger or prophet reveals the wishes and expectations of God.

In the first reading Isaiah (11:1-10) talks about the Messiah, the One for whom the people of God awaited. Isaiah indicates that this “Anointed One” is God’s unique messenger and prophet. He says that the Messiah’s chief concern is to bring righteousness for the poor and equity for those who are weak or disadvantaged. The “Anointed One” will teach the people of God to not hurt or destroy each other any longer. They will learn to live together in peace.

In the Epistle (Romans 15:4-13) St. Paul wishes for the same thing: “to live in harmony with one another”, to “welcome one another”, and to accomplish this by becoming servants to one another, just as Christ was a servant “of the truth of God”, in order that all people “might glorify God for his mercy.” This is the formula for joy, peace, and abundant hope through the Holy Spirit.

Finally, the Gospel (Matthew 3:1-12) describes the preaching of John the Baptist, the classical advent messenger and prophet. The Baptist preaches in the desert, in a place where there are no things which can distract people’s attention.  The desert is the traditional place where, since the days of the Exodus, God calls his people to conversion.

St. Matthew stresses the austerity of the Baptist:  who reminds us of Elijah the prophet, and who attacks the superficial conversion and appearances of the Pharisees who came to be baptized; God requires of everyone a sincere interior conversion, not just a casual one. Conversion hinges specifically on the fruits and in the way that we behave with God and with others. Whoever isn’t sincerely converted to accept Jesus as Savior, will receive and find him as a judge.

We must not forget that Jesus comes at Christmas expecting fruits from us. We all need conversion. We are converted to God and toward others by a life of charity and of sincere interest in them, especially those in need. The external rites, even of baptism, help little if they aren’t accompanied by a sincere effort to do God’s will.

The Pharisees were adapted to external rites when it suited them, but they didn’t accept the values, the mentality and the demands of the Kingdom that Jesus announced. Baptism without conversion is as illusory for salvation as pretending to be a son of Abraham by the mere fact of being part of the Jewish race; A son is one who behaves just like his father: “like father, like son”. The son or daughter of Abraham should be able to reflect the heroic faith of the holy patriarch who believed against all hope.

St. Matthew says that baptism with water should be accompanied by baptism with the Spirit (of truth, love and commitment to the poor, and with fire (the radical purification by God’s love).  John the Baptizer resorted to a language of urgency, apocalyptic, harsh and violent, in order to awaken his listeners and move them to take advantage of the opportunity of salvation which God offered them. Salvation, life with God and with Jesus, is always within reach, and he urges us to grasp it.

Listen closely to the messengers and prophets in your life. Today God calls us to “heed their warnings and to forsake our sins.” God calls us to the type of conversion which concretely tests our fidelity to God. Such a test is found only in our relationships with  one another. Are we willing to undergo this conversion in faith in order “that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer”?

Advent: A Coming…of What?

In our increasingly irreligious American culture, the irrational preoccupation with "Christmas", from at least October on, and the blatantly crass mission of shoppers to spend and acquire ever more things fairly blinds us to the rich meaning of the Advent season. The “coming” which the word Advent signifies looks to the continual coming of Christ into our hearts daily, his coming, liturgically, in the celebration of the feast of the Nativity, his coming to us in the persons of those with whom we come in contact daily, not least the poor, the disadvantaged, those suffering, and, finally, his coming to take us to Godself in never-ending life.

Like any of the seasonal liturgical celebrations occurring year after year, without study and education we run the risk of becoming indifferent to the reasons behind the celebration and its meaning to us individually and corporately. There was a time when Christian families routinely used visual aids to reflect on and emphasize Advent's significance: the Advent wreath, a daily Advent calendar, the Jesse Tree, etc. A few families, of course, continue those traditions, but I doubt that it's in any sense a common practice today.

J. B. Phillips, in an article "The Christian Year", notes: "What we are in fact celebrating is the awe-inspiring humility of God, and no amount of familiarity with the trappings of Christmas should ever blind us to its quiet but explosive significance. For Christians believe that so great is God's love and concern for humanity that he himself became a man. Amid the sparkle and colour and music of the day's celebration we do well to remember that God's insertion of himself into human history was achieved with an almost frightening quietness and humility."

Look at the historic facts: when Jesus was born few people were really aware of what was happening, even his parents. After the fact, apparently, no one spoke openly about this unusual human being for some thirty years. As an adult, he was recognized by few people for who he really was. In fact, for the short two or three years in which he taught, preached and did remarkable healings, he was looked down upon, opposed, and written off by many folks as pretty much a nobody. He was betrayed by one of his inner circle of followers, deserted by many of the rest of them after his arrest, and murdered by Roman occupiers and Jewish leaders outside the capital city as a common criminal. By human measuring, this was just another young, poor, idealistic man who failed in the pursuit of his cause, and was murdered by professional politicians and religious fundamentalists in an outback province occupied by Rome.

But Phillips makes this observation, quite relevant in this age of outspoken professed atheists: "It is two thousand years ago that his apparently invincible [Roman] Empire utterly collapsed, and all that is left of it is ruins. Yet the baby, born in such pitiful humility and cut down as a young man in his prime, commands the allegiance of millions of people all over the world. Although they have never seen him, he has become friend and companion to innumerable people. This undeniable fact is, by any measurement, the most astonishing phenomenon in human history. It is a solid rock of evidence that no agnostic [or atheist] can ever explain away."  

Christ: Agent of Creation, Agent of Redemption

This last Sunday of the Church’s liturgical season of Pentecost and of the liturgical year is known as Christ the King Sunday. With the beginning of the Advent season, we enter upon a new Year of Grace: Year A in the liturgy’s cycle of Scripture readings.

For many years I’ve found myself resistive to associating the term “king” with “Christ”. He was, in fact, not royalty. He intentionally avoids it, as noted in John’s Gospel: “When Jesus realized that they [the crowds after the feeding of the 5000] were about to come and make him king, he withdrew...to the mountain...” (6:15) Contemporary theologian James Alison suggests that, since what we most talk about these days when it comes to social constructs is culture, not about kingdoms or even nations, it would make more sense to call this “Culture of Christ Sunday”.

Alison has long drawn on the insights of René Girard, a noted cultural anthropologist. Girard sees the Cross of Christ at the center of what reveals to us what our own culture is founded upon: violence and killing. In the cross of Christ we see both the revelation of how we base our culture and how God founds and offers to us the divine culture in Christ: a culture based on Christ's yielding to the violence and killing on which our culture is based, at the same time that he forgives us for it. God has, in fact, brought about a new culture, a new reign: the opposite of murder and vengeance, namely, by forgiving others, even in the face of violence and killing.

The one statement which fairly leaps out at us from Luke’s Gospel text (23:33-43) this morning is: “And the people stood by, watching…” It’s found only in Luke who, throughout his Gospel, shows how “the people” witness virtually every aspect of Jesus’ ministry. John the Baptizer’s father, Zechariah the priest, proclaimed early on (Luke 1:68-69) that God has “looked favorably upon his people and redeemed them”, even sending a messenger to “give knowledge of salvation to his people”. Jesus’ hearers listen to his teaching, praising God for his healing power. The people witness Jesus confronting and criticizing the religious authorities and flock to hear him in the temple, even as he prophesies its destruction. Luke says that “a great number of the people” follow as Jesus is led away to be crucified, and here they are, again, “the people” standing by the cross, watching.

What a contrast with the others at the scene. The people don’t mock or deride Jesus in his desperate situation, as others do. What could their presence here by the cross mean? Are they just curious onlookers, gawkers, craning their necks at the sight of the some gruesome horror or spectacle, captivated, but without any personal commitment or involvement? Or are they, perhaps, like friends and family gathered in vigil at the bedside of a dying loved one, simply offering support to their beloved Teacher in the only way they know how?

Luke’s silence about “the people’s” motives in the Gospel invites you and me to enter into the episode as we “watch” the story unfold. What do “the people” see? What do the hearers hear? or the readers understand? What do we hear and see and understand? 

As Jesus travelled around among the people, he clearly rejected any association between himself and the idea of kingship. Nevertheless, Luke uses some interesting allusions earlier in his Gospel. Zechariah refers to the One who will be  “a mighty savior...in the house of [God’s] servant David”. (1:60) The heavenly angel, appearing to the shepherds after Jesus’ birth, confirms that. (2:11) Other allusions include Jesus being referred to as “the Anointed One” [messiah], in the manner of a king, and his entry into Jerusalem, seated on the royal symbol of a donkey, receiving the acclaim of “the people”. (19:35-36)

Despite these allusions, Scripture also hints that this Savior/King isn’t the royalty most people were expecting. Jesus is born in a manger, “because there was no place for them in the inn”. (Luke 2:7) Jesus’ royal anointing is expressed, not in any military action engaging other powers, but in bringing “good news to the poor...and...proclaim[ing] the year of the Lord’s favor”. (Luke 4:18-19) Finally, Luke presents Jesus, hanging on a cross, outside the walls of Jerusalem, in between two criminals whom, even as he suffers and his life ebbs away, he engages in conversation. Hardly the typical place for a king! Yet, above Jesus’ head hangs the clear inscription: “This is the King of the Jews”.

“The leaders”, witnessing the crucifixion and recognizing the irony of a crucified man acclaimed as a “king”, repeatedly scoff at Jesus [lit., kept sneering]: “...let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!…” (23:35), even as the Pharisees had done earlier, when Jesus taught about the dangers of wealth.  “The soldiers” also mock him, continuing the demeaning actions of the “men who were holding Jesus” before his trial. (23:36-37) Even one of the criminals sharing Jesus‘ plight joins in the disdainful chorus, “deriding him”, Luke notes, “...saying ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (23:39)

Three times Jesus is ridiculed and taunted about his being called “The King”, “the Anointed One”, even though Jesus’ whole ministry to the people, not just to his fellow Jews, but to anyone and everyone who came to him, was defined by one thing alone: bringing God’s saving love and compassion to, and sharing it with, every person, regardless of status or condition. Yet, in the human culture of violence which brought about his death, which Jesus had predicted, there were obviously many questions, doubts, and much disbelief about his true identity and purpose.

Luke notes one exception: the other criminal crucified with Jesus. Unknown and unidentified, he’s depicted as a person who sees what’s happening and “gets it”. He rebukes his derisive companion, pointing out that they’re getting what they deserve for their deeds, whereas “this man has done nothing wrong”. He’d heard Jesus say earlier: “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” Somehow he recognized that the culture in which Jesus, “the Anointed One”, ministered and lived was one of forgiveness and reconciliation, even in the face of violence and murder. He confesses his own failings: “we...have been condemned justly...we are getting what we deserve for our deeds”, and in humility, he asks only that Jesus not forget him in the “kingdom” after they die. Jesus assures him that in his “reign”, in his “culture”, the “criminal” is already forgiven, that the man and Jesus already share the place where evil and violence give way to mercy, forgiveness and love. (23:40-43)  

Luke doesn’t tell us how “the people” who were watching reacted to any of this. We don’t know what they thought about others taunting Jesus about his saving power; or about Jesus’ conversation with the two criminals; or whether, in their minds and hearts, Jesus truly was who he had proclaimed himself to be. “The people” don’t ever appear again in Luke’s narrative.

What of us who also “watch” this story? We do so as the beneficiaries of centuries of thought and discussion about it. Perhaps there is no more eloquent commentary from Scripture to guide us and teach us about the One who ”reigns” with compassion, forgiveness and love, than the passage from Paul’s Letter to the Colossians. Paul helps us to understand that the Crucified Jesus is the Cosmic Christ: that, first of all, in and through our baptismal relationship with God in Christ by the power of the Spirit, you and I are set free from the violence and evil of all “powers” and secondary “rulers” in the universe; and, secondly, that in and through that baptismal relationship, you and I and, indeed, all that has been created, participates in the reign, the culture of Christ. “...all the strength”, Paul says, “...comes from his glorious power…” (1:11) 

In Christ, the Father has “enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light…” (1:12) Enabled, in Greek means to cause to be adequate, to make sufficient, to qualify. How many times have you and I felt “inadequate” about ourselves? “insufficient”? “unqualified”? Paul proclaims that God, because of Christ’s continual forgiveness and love, we’re always adequate, and sufficient, and qualified. In Baptism, you and I undergo a huge transition: God has swooped us up, “rescued us” from the power of darkness, and put us in a new place, “transferred us”, into the reign, the culture, the life, of forgiveness, redemption, love. We come into “the light”: the place where there is only honesty, clarity, truth and vision. And in this place we’re never alone. We share “in the inheritance of the saints”, the Communion of God’s holy ones who love us, support us, and are, indeed, our true BFF’s...Best Friends Forever!  

As the Agent of Creation, Jesus the Christ, God’s Son, is the icon,”the image”, of the God whom we can’t see here below. (1:15) In Jesus the Christ, however, we do see God. All of creation begins in Him. Paul says, “all things have been created through him and for him...in him all things hold together…” (1:16-17) Wherever we encounter things or human beings speaking to us of what Jesus the Christ is and does -- loving, forgiving, ministering to, accepting -- there we “see” not only Jesus the Christ, but the unseen Father and the life-giving Spirit, and we see the Church, the assembly of “the people” gathered to make Him, who is the Head of the body, present among us.

As the Agent of Redemption, Christ summarizes, encompasses, embodies, the fullness of Who God is. Christ is the beginning, the continuation, and the end of all life. Christ is the “first”, Number 1, in everything: first in origin, first in order, first in priority, first in importance, so that nothing in the entire universe exists outside of Christ’s/God’s domain.

In this “Culture of Christ”, what is God up to? What’s God’s agenda? What’s the bottom line? Two things, says Paul: first, in this beloved Son who is Jesus the Christ, who is above, beyond, and ahead of all that is created, God “was pleased to dwell”; and secondly, “through him God was pleased to reconcile to [God]self all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.” (1:19-20)

As members of God’s people, the Communion of Saints, we’d do well to think back over this past year, and ask ourselves: what have I understood, seen, heard? More importantly, how has what we’ve observed, dealt with, and heard moved us to respond to Jesus the Christ? “Who do you say that I am?”, Christ continually asks us, and “What have you done, what will you do, to bring into being my culture, the reign of peace, compassion, forgiveness and love?” 

        

Embracing & Holding Fast Our Hope: Jesus the Crist

In today’s Collect we pray: “Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ...” This is why the Church’s liturgy proclaims the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, the Bible, to you and me at every celebration of the Eucharist.

We’re to hear them, opening our minds and hearts with willing receptiveness. We’re to read them, either quietly in personal prayer or aloud in the liturgy, distinctly and coherently, so as to convey that we understand the words in context to others. We’re to mark them. Perhaps you’re a reader like me who keeps a pencil or pen handy to literally mark words and passages, but more important is the marking of the Word indelibly on our hearts and on our daily actions. Through the hearing, reading, and marking we’re meant to learn something, not simply to let the words pass through one ear and out the other.  And we’re to inwardly digest them, to chew on them, to ruminate on what’s read or spoken, exactly like a cow chewing its cud to promote good digestion of food. 

The Collect further notes two reasons for this very defined and thorough process: 1) that we may “embrace”, i.e., wrap the arms of our being around “the blessed hope of everlasting life,...our Savior Jesus Christ”, and 2) to “ever hold fast” to this blessed hope. In a way, that’s the very thing Bishop Beisner’s Bible Challenge to us this year is all about. Isn’t it ironic, though, that you and I would have to be “challenged” to do something which one would naturally expect of people who claim to follow Jesus the Christ in their lives? In any case, hearing, reading, marking, learning and inwardly digesting Holy Scripture, as you know, is by no means always easy.

Unfortunately, difficulty in reading and gaining understanding from Scripture is complicated by rampant misinformation perpetuated over at least the past 100 years. What I mean by that is summed up in an oft-seen bumper sticker: “The Bible says it; I believe it; that settles it.” Marcus Borg, who teaches at the University of Oregon, finds that many of his students these days have a very negative view of Christianity, which they commonly express in 5 adjectives: literalistic, anti-intellectual, self-righteous, judgmental, and bigoted. In large part, they’re reacting to many radio and TV televangelists, or to campus students devoted to “converting” others to conservative Christianity, or to people in the so-called “Christian” ranks of the political Right-wing. What all these groups seem to have in common is claiming that they alone possess God’s truth in one book: the Bible. What they and many well-meaning people forget is that the Bible is not one book: it’s a whole library of books, written over countless millenia, by a multitude of writers, human beings, most of whom were not “Christian”, and all with varying agendas and motivations. 

The fact is that the bumper sticker’s way of seeing the Bible, is really quite new and recent, and certainly not the “traditional” teaching of the Church. Biblical ideas of literalism and inerrancy appeared first around the 1600’s and were taken up by some Protestants only in the 19th and 20th centuries. Literal/factual biblical interpretation arose only in the late 17th-18th centuries, as a reaction to thinkers and writers of the Enlightenment era.

If we go back to the truly ancient, the truly “traditional” sources of Scripture, to the writers and thinkers of the first several generations after Jesus, what impresses us are two things: 

1. a way of seeing the Bible, and the Christian tradition which has been handed down to us, as historical, metaphorical and sacramental.

• historical: i.e., the library which we call the Bible emerged from two ancient communities: ancient Israel and the early Christian community just after Jesus’ death and resurrection. The Scriptures are the responses of these people to the God who was revealed to Moses, and about whom Jesus had taught his hearers. It’s their witness to how they continued to relate to God in Christ. As such, this response is culturally conditioned and very much influenced, as ours is, by their unique time and place in human history. 
• metaphorical: i.e, the Bible is, as Marcus Borg notes, “more-than-literal”, “more-than-factual”. Thomas Mann describes it as “a story about the way things never were, but always are.” Someone else puts it this way: “The Bible is true, and some of it happened”, very similar to the spirit of the ancient Native American account of the tribe’s story of creation: “Now I don’t know if it happened this way or not, but I know this story is true.” The Bible asks: “Regardless of whether it happened this way, what does the story say? What does it mean for our relationship to God, here and now?” 
• sacramental: i.e., the Bible encompasses the sacred. Just as the Prayer Book describes a sacrament as an “outward and visible sign[s] of inward spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means by which we receive that grace”, so God’s Word in the Bible, written or spoken, enables, mediates, the Holy Spirit’s presence in us, giving us sacred wisdom and life.

2) a way of seeing the Christian life as relational and transformational. 

• relational: i.e., the Bible enables us to live as Jesus did, enjoying a vibrant, personal relationship with God here and now, rather than expending our energy simply on beliefs and doctrines, or on qualifying for “rewards” after death. It helps us to see that we are the “beloved of Jesus”, even as he is the “Beloved of the Father”.
• transformational: i.e., by immersion in Scripture the Holy Spirit leads us to what Marcus Borg calls “the hatching of the heart”: i.e., opening our heart and every aspect of our life to God; no longer being close-minded; no more deceiving ourselves; or being ungrateful; or insensitive to wonder and awe; but being other-oriented and compassionate, invested in justice for all human beings.

So, how can we apply our hearing, reading, marking, learning and inwardly digesting to today’s Scripture passages,? What can you and I take with us to help in the week ahead? In the first reading, the Hebrew writer, called “Third Isaiah” (65:17-25), pictures for us God addressing a people who’ve returned from captivity in Babylonia in the late 6th century BC. The harsh reality of what it will take to rebuild their city and their lives begins to sink in. Theirs isn’t a unique situation, because earlier chapters about returning exiles who’ve also faced many hardships indicate that, rather than being faithful to the Covenant with God, they responded by resorting to sorcery and the gods of the underworld. Others, in the very midst of their fasting, quarrel and fight, oppress their workers, and complain to God. Nevertheless, God’s promise of blessing  on them is unconditional. If they repent and choose God’s way, the Creator is about to gift them with such newness that all their former troubles will be forgotten. Similarly, the circumstances of our own lives aren’t always pleasant. On many occasions you and I may find ourselves trying to rebuild our lives against great odds. The temptation to take the easy way out is always there. Can you and I open our hearts and expend the effort needed to allow God’s promise of newness be realized for us? In this connection, all of us have surely been confronted by the sobering reminder this week in the aftermath of devastation in the Philippines. What might we do, small as it may seem, to reach out in solidarity and address the needs of these sisters and brothers there? 

St. Paul, in his second letter to the Christians of Thessalonica (3:6-13) , notes that some in the community are "living in idleness", selfishly disregarding the fact that they’re burdening the community, presuming that they have a "right" to rely on them for support, and claiming that "the day of the Lord is already here", as if that excuses them. Paul himself had given the community an example by his willingness to pay his own way and to work for necessities. The tendency of those who refuse to be part of the common effort is to become "busybodies", using their free time and energy to stir up trouble. Paul’s directive to the community is: "Anyone unwilling to work should not eat". 

In today’s context, that might generally be understandable, but we have to be very careful in suggesting it. Commentator Lance Pape writes: “Several years ago, I watched a lay reader break down in angry tears as he tried to choke out the words of this lection. He works daily with people who are so disturbed and oppressed by the consequences of bad luck and/or bad decisions that they are not able to hold down a job. Christians should not let such people go hungry. It is an irresponsible distortion of the gospel we preach to allow a text like this to be read in the assembly without comment—especially in light of the self-righteous rhetoric about the evils of "entitlement" that characterizes so much of our political discourse. The key point is that this is a word against those who are able to work but, for whatever reason, refuse to do so.” 

As to Luke’s Gospel passage (21:5-19), remember that Jesus had died c. 30-33 AD, the Romans destroyed Jerusalem in 70 AD, and Luke wrote this passage, as well as the Acts of the Apostles, some time between 80-90 AD, 10-20 years or so after the destruction of Jerusalem. The setting is near the Temple treasury where Jesus is standing with his disciples. Someone starts commenting on the beauty of the temple, its stones and gifts dedicated to God. Jesus the prophet demonstrates that he’s aware that, not only all the grandeur of these buildings, but the whole present order of human things, all human projects into which we pour our energy and which vie for our loyalty, all are going to soon pass away for something unexpected, new, undefined, which God has in store for them. In a very concrete way Jesus notes at length what some of the alert signals will be: general confusion, questioning, the appearance of false Messiahs, wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famine, plagues. The disciples can expect to be harassed, persecuted, arrested, imprisoned, tried and sentenced. As you, throughout your lifetime until now, have looked at what goes on in the world, in this country, in the Church, in your community or school or workplace, in your family, in your own life: do any of these signals sound familiar? We deal with the same sort of things which the ancient communities of Israel and the early Church dealt with, only in a slightly different way. How do we cope? How do we make any sense of it all? What bearing does it have on the way we live? 

 In the closing verses of Chapter 21 Jesus reassures the first Christians and us of a way to ensure that “not a hair of your head will perish” and that “by your endurance you will gain your souls”. Jesus says: “Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is getting near...when you see these things taking place, you know that the reign of God is coming...Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not go away...Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life...Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things...and to stand before the Son of Man.” 

Fr. Henri Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic priest, college professor, spiritual writer and guide, who died in 1996, writes: “For many years I had read, reflected on, and taught the gospel words in Luke 3 in the story of Jesus’ baptism, but only in my later years have they taken on a meaning far beyond the boundaries of my own religious tradition...” “...As a Christian, I am firmly convinced that the decisive moment of Jesus’ public life was his baptism, when he heard the divine affirmation, ‘You are my Beloved on whom my favor rests.’ In this core experience, Jesus is reminded in a deep, deep way of who he really is...” “...God’s words ‘You are my Beloved’ reveal the most intimate truth about all human beings, whether they belong to any particular tradition or not...” (Spiritual Direction: Wisdom for the Long Walk of Faith, HarperOne, 2006, p.28) “...From the moment we claim the truth of being the Beloved, we are faced with the call to become who we are...That I am always searching for God, always struggling to discover the fullness of Love, and always yearning for complete truth, tells me that I have already been given a taste of God, of Love, and of 

Truth...” (p. 33)  “Becoming the Beloved means letting the truth of our Belovedness become enfleshed in everything we think, say, or do...” (p. 34) “...What I am trying to say is that God has written us a love letter in the scripture, the written word. The written word points to the Living Word, which is God incarnate in the person of Jesus. In both the Living Word and the written word, God continues to speak--personally and in a quiet voice. We speak the word of God to each other out of the silence of listening to God...Or, to put it in another way we encounter God in the word through the disciplines of obedient listening, sacred reading, humble speaking, and spiritual writing.” (p. 101)

The Challenge of Faith

The liturgy which we celebrate today reminds us already that three weeks from today we begin the season of Advent. In Advent we will prepare for the coming of Christ in our hearts, in the feast of the Nativity, and at the time when Jesus comes to take us into eternal life.

In the Collect we prayed to God “whose blessed Son came into the world that he might...make us children of God and heirs of eternal life...” And we asked God: “Grant that, having this hope...when he comes again with power and great glory, we may be made like him in his eternal and glorious kingdom.”

The prophets, Haggai and Zechariah, lived and preached in the 6th century BCE. The people of Israel returned from exile in Babylon to their homeland in 538 BCE. It was necessary for the two prophets, especially Haggai, first, to encourage and to motivate the people and their governor to rebuild their Temple, and, secondly, to urge the priests to purify their practices of worship. In the first reading today from Haggai (1:15b-2:9), this is God’s message: “Yet now take courage...take courage, all you people of the land...work, for I am with you...My spirit abides among you; do not fear...in a little while...I will fill this house with splendor...and in this place I will give prosperity...” 

In the Epistle (2 Thessalonians 2:1-5; 13-17), St. Paul reminds us that we are sisters and brothers “beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth...” It is important, says Paul, to “stand firm and hold fast to the traditions” which we have been taught.” We can do this because God our Father and the Lord Jesus have given us “eternal comfort and good hope”, and strength “in every good work and word.”

Faith and life belong together. But genuine faith is much more than simply believing in a teaching, a creed. Faith is a way of life, a complete attitude towards life. Someone might be very religious, but that person may not have much faith. Such a person is like a man who always claims to be confident and in control, but, whenever he travels by airplane, he always sits near the emergency exit, while also wearing a belt and a pair of suspenders! Sometimes, people who appear to be very religious have very little true faith.

The passage from St. Luke’s Gospel (20:27-38) gives us a practical example from the life of Jesus. The Sadducees, a very religious group, approach Jesus with a phony theological question. Sadducees were descendants and followers of Sadok, a president of the Jewish Sanhedrin in the 3rd century B.C., whose name means “righteous”. The Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection of the dead. They asked Jesus their ridiculous and insidious question, not because they expected or wanted an answer, but because they wanted Jesus to display his ignorance regarding a problem for which they had no answer. Jesus confounded them with his divine wisdom.

Even now, some people who do not believe pose questions to faithful Christians, not because they want to learn from them, or know what they believe. They ask questions to see if they can confuse or ridicule people who believe.

The gospel, rather than speaking about the resurrection of the dead, speaks of the survival of the living. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob continue to live in and with God. In this world we live in God and with God, in the midst of the distractions of life. After death God will be our only point of reference. We shall live with Him forever, without any kind of distraction.
The "God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob" is the God of the Exodus that spoke to Moses, the God of life, who heard the cry of oppressed people and freed them from the slavery of Egypt. It is God who gives us life and who calls us to give life to others, starting with the poor and oppressed. In dying we join a divine community, final and eternal, to which we are all called and of which we are already part in the Communion of Saints. As we are reminded in the burial liturgy, in dying we change our dwelling place. We pass over to live in the presence of the Risen Christ. When we die, we leave our body here, our "boat", as the song “The Fisherman” says. With it we have navigated through life, sometimes in the middle of depressions and storms, and in dying we go to another sea, the sea of eternity with Jesus.

Death is only a temporary separation. After death, when we are "embedded" or united with God, things are going to be very different from how they are in this life. It is difficult to imagine how things will be, as Sacred Scripture says: "No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor does anyone imagine what God has prepared for his own." There will be complete love toward all people, without any natural limitations. Relations between people will be similar to those of the angels, free and perfect love. Our body, will be like the glorious body of Jesus after his resurrection.

One of my favorite parts of the Mass is the acclamation of the celebrant said just before the Communion: "The gifts of God for the People of God. Take them in remembrance that Christ died for you, and feed on him in your hearts by faith and with thanksgiving". All life, including spiritual life, the life of faith, requires taking a risk. Faith means letting go of the known and reaching out to the unknown.

That is why the early Church celebrated Baptism by submerging the candidate in water, so that the person was “out of his or her depth”. In Baptism you and I are reborn through the risk of faith. Faith enables us to have a wider vision. Faith helps you to see that, while 1/3 of the world’s people overeats, 2/3 of the world’s people go to sleep aching from hunger. While religious people offer one another the Peace of Christ, each day brings us news of conflict, war, brutality, and oppression in the Third World, in Afghanistan, in the airport of Los Angeles, and in the streets of Santa Rosa. Faith helps us to notice that, despite the happy, smiling faces of friends in the coffee hour after the service, other people may stand, bearing a silent burden or worry or an illness, or feeling unwelcome. 

The Sadducees of today’s Gospel came to Jesus with an idle debate about religion, but they went away, challenged to choose between life and death. We have come to the church this morning, perhaps for just a quiet, peaceful hour of prayer and singing. Perhaps we will leave, challenged by Jesus, going out from here to minister to others by our words and actions of faith, hope and love. And, by the way, we should leave our spiritual security belts and suspenders behind!   

The Little Man Who Got Found

Zacchaeus, in Greek = Zakchaios, from the Hebrew meaning pure, was, Luke tells us (19:1-10), a superintendent of customs, a chief tax-gatherer = publicanus, at Jericho. Tax collectors were hated by many of their fellow Jews, both because of dishonesty in their profession and because they were seen as collaborators with the Roman Empire. Since Jericho was the center for a lucrative production and export of balsam, Zacchaeus' position would have made him both important and rich, which Luke also mentions.

A popular children's song captures the main gist of Luke's story:

“Zacchaeus was a wee little man,

And a wee little man was he.

He climbed up in a sycamore tree,
For the Lord he wanted to see.

                   And as the Savior passed that way

                      He looked up in that tree

                  And He said, “Zacchaeus, you come down!

                     For I’m going to your house today,

                    For I’m going to your house to stay.”

Notice that Luke's account begins by purposefully telling us the "Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it..." Jesus' ultimate destination, as Luke emphasizes all through the Gospel, is Jerusalem where, as we know, he’ll die at the hands of the Roman occupiers, egged on by Jewish religious leaders. 

Luke describes Zacchaeus as "short in stature", short enough, apparently, that, along with his well-known professional position and wealth, it was a problem. In addition to that, for Zacchaeus to try to mingle in the crowd, even if it was up front where he could see, was fraught with danger. Predictably, you can guess that he would have had some enemies...on several counts. It wasn't unusual in his time for assassinations to be furtively carried out by sticking a knife into someone in the midst of a crowd. There were, in fact, people known as Sicarii, from the Latin word sicarius = dagger-man, or assassin, Jews whose intent was to use a concealed dagger or sica to eliminate Romans from Judea in this way. Luke says that Zacchaeus "ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree", which, by the way, bears no resemblance to the American sycamore. It was, instead, a variety of fig tree. "Trying to see Jesus", Zacchaeus hovers there, camouflaged by the leaves.

When Jesus reaches the spot, he stops and looks up into the branches, addressing Zacchaeus by name. Imagine what that must've felt like to a man accustomed to the usual scorn and derision, or worse, by his fellow-citizens. "Hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today." Before Zacchaeus can think of anything to say, the onlooking crowd is utterly shocked! "What?!... he's going to be the guest of a sinner!!", they grumble. Luke uses the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew word used in Exodus when the people obstinately complain; grumble; murmur against God and Moses.

In contrast to the crowd, Zacchaeus "hurried down and was happy to welcome [Jesus]".  Zacchaeus then announces: “Look, Lord! half of my possessions I’ll give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I’ll pay back four times as much.” This resonates with Exodus 22:1-15, which spells out the restitution required when one is responsible for the loss of another's property. Restitution ranges from straight replacement for negligence, increasing up to two, four or five times replacement for various thefts. Exodus 22:1 says, "When someone steals an ox or a sheep, and slaughters or sells it, the thief shall pay...four sheep for a sheep...The thief shall make restitution..." King David also applied this rule in 2 Samuel 12:6 when he said, "And he shall restore fourfold for the lamb, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity."  

Zacchaeus chooses a generous recompense. He places himself on the guilty side of the spectrum outlined in Exodus, and intends to begin anew in complete obedience to God.

Seen by Jesus, personally named by Jesus, accepted unconditionally for who he is by Jesus, Zacchaeus himself is touched by divine grace. "Today salvation has come to this house", says Jesus, "because he too is a son of Abraham..." The one who was lost. The one whom Jesus came to seek out. This one has been recognized, acknowledged, found.

According to Clement of Alexandria, in his Stromata, Zacchaeus was surnamed Matthias by the apostles, and took the place of Judas Iscariot after Jesus's ascension. The later Apostolic Constitutions identify "Zacchaeus the Publican" as the first bishop of Caesarea.

In the Eastern Orthodox and Greek-Catholic Churches, the Gospel account of Zacchaeus is read on the last Sunday preceding the liturgical preparation for Great Lent, and thus is known as "Zacchaeus Sunday." It was chosen to open the Lenten season in order to highlight two things: God's calling us to humility, represented in Jesus' call to Zacchaeus to come down from the tree; and God's calling us to repentance, exemplified by Zacchaeus' actions.

Many see the story of Zacchaeus as illustrating Jesus' words: "Blessed are the pure of heart, For they shall see God" (Matthew 5:8). Zacchaeus whose name means pure, climbed up a tree, similar to the cross, and was symbolically crucified with Christ, enabling him to see God in Jesus. 

 The verses of an old hymn gives you and me something to reflect on and to pray about this week: 

 I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew / 

he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me. / 

It was not I that found, O Savior true; / 

no, I was found of thee.

The Pharisee & The Publican: A Lesson For Our Times

Idiomela from the Triodion 

Mode 1 

 Brethren, let us not offer prayer as did the Pharisee, 

for he who exalts himself will be brought to humility. 

Let us humble ourselves in the presence of God, 

as did the Publican, and through fasting cry to Him 

“God, be merciful to us sinners.” 

 A Pharisee, by self-esteem dominated, and a Publican, 

in repentance prostrated, both approached You the only Master. 

But the one, after boasting, was deprived of the blessings, 

while the other, not speaking, was counted worthy of Your gifts. 

Confirm me in such sighs as these, Christ God, since You love humanity. 

(Translated by Fr. Seraphim Dedes)

Feast of St. Gaspar del Bufalo, Founder of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood

Almighty and merciful God, who gave us an ardent witness

of love for your divinity and for our neighbor in 

Saint Gaspar del Bufalo, priest and dedicated missionary

of the Precious Blood of Christ; through his intercession

listen to the voice of the blood of your Son which daily rises

to you from the earth in the painful cry of suffering humanity.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and

reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for every and ever.

Perseverance In Prayer

The parable of the persistent widow (Luke 18:1-8) suggests some qualities that can enliven our prayer: things such as perseverance, loyalty, love, and hope. The widow pleads for justice against an adversary. Although we don't know the details about what was done to her, a quick look at the world today really doesn’t even reveal how many people are crying out for justice. You have to admire the persistent widow’s moxie as she deals with an unprincipled judge.

What we can bring to prayer which often feels like an exercise in boredom? It’s love which is the key to our problem. Prayer shouldn’t involve a lot of words, but rather a large dose of love, hope, faith and patience. God doesn’t at all operate like the unjust judge, as one who responds to our cry by trying to get rid of us. God doesn’t even need us to ask for help. Rather, you and I need to really hear our own prayerful desire for justice in our situation.

Perseverance in following Christ is impossible without perseverance in prayer. It’s said that prayer works miracles, and perhaps the first miracle one experiences in prayer, often without even realizing it, is one’s own perseverance.

One of the Gospel’s clear messages today is to persevere in prayer. Matthew, in his account, says that everyone who asks receives, because the persistence in prayer, born of deep faith, cannot but produce fruit. St. Luke, mindful of the poor and the oppressed who cry out to God for justice, reminds them that their effort isn’t wasted, because God is never deaf to the cries of God’s own. The Hebrew Scriptures remember that, as Israel was forming itself as a people, God heard their painful laments over the oppression which they were suffering in Egypt. The first Christians were in a similar situation. Christians who had suffered the first onslaughts of the Roman Empire longed for the Lord’s Second Coming which promised to bring them the fullness of freedom. Luke’s message was geared to give his readers the hope and strength to endure, to persist and persevere, in the midst of their situation. At times God seems to be late in addressing to our needs, but, in the end, God never fails to come to deliver.

In a way all this is similar to our experience as children. A child learns quickly that persistently seeking something from her/his parents often produces positive results, although sometimes it can also result in being punished. The judge in the parable could have punished the woman for what he considered her untimely insistence. He could’ve even forbidden her from approaching the court, given his unfair disposition. God judges with far greater sensitivity and compassion because God is righteous and acts not against, but in behalf of, the oppressed. If we humans can put up with persistently obnoxious and annoying people at times, how much more will God listen to persevering prayer.

The parable’s two figures, the judge and the widow, are traditional biblical types: one, powerful and controlling, with almost divine authority to judge; the other, a disadvantaged victim of circumstances. God has always proved to be on the side of the poor, as Luke hints in his recording of Mary's canticle, the Magnificat. Knowing this, Christians should be persistent, even aggressive, in asking God to hear their prayers, as well as to support any effort to make God’s justice a reality in the world. Always remember: sometimes "God arrives late, but God never lets us down."

St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)

"It seems very easy to say that we will surrender our will to someone, until we try it and realize that it is the hardest thing we can do if we carry it out as we should. The Lord knows what each of us can bear, and, when he sees that one of us is strong, he does not hesitate to fulfill his will in that one.

Do not fear that the Lord will give you riches or pleasures or honors or any such earthly things; his love for you is not so poor as that. And he sets a very high value on what you can give him and desires to recompense you for it since he gives you his kingdom while you are still alive. Would you like to see how he treats those who make the prayer 'Your will be done' from their hearts? Ask his glorious Son, who made it thus in the Garden. Think with what resolution and fullness of desire he prayed; and consider if the will of God was not perfectly fulfilled in him through the trials, sufferings, insults and persecutions which he gave him until at last his life ended with death on a cross.

So you see what God gave to his best beloved, and from this you can understand what his will is. These, then, are his gifts in this world. He gives them in proportion to the love which he bears us...For my own part, I believe that love is the measure of our ability to bear crosses, whether great or small. So if you have this love, try not to let the prayers you make to so great a Lord be words of mere politeness, but brace yourselves to suffer what His Majesty desires. For if you give him your will in any other way, you are just showing him a jewel, making as if to give it to him and begging him to take it, and then, when he puts out his hand to do so, taking it back and holding on to it tightly.

Such mockery is no fit treatment for One who endured so much for us. If for no other reason than this, it would not be right to mock him so often -- and it is by no means seldom that we say these words to him in the 'Our Father'. Let us give him once and for all the jewel which we have so often undertaken to give him. For the truth is that he gives it to us first so that we may give it back to him..."

(From The Way of Perfection) 

Faith: Response To the Impossible

Put yourself into the situation described in the first reading from Jeremiah (29:1; 4-7). You’re among a people who’ve been thrown out of their sacred city and homes, and sent off to Babylon in 597 BCE about 500 miles away, as the crow flies, approximately the distance from here to San Diego. After your arrival, the elders/leaders, priests and prophets have received a letter from Jeremiah, the prophet back in Jerusalem, whom some of those same distinguished men loved to hate, as seen in previous chapters. Among the people’s many instances of criticizing, harassing and rejecting this bothersome prophet for calling them to account for their continual unfaithfulness to God, one of the priests, Pashur, assaults Jeremiah and locks him up in the stocks. (Chapter 20) That’s just a prelude to further persecution and King Zedekiah’s throwing Jeremiah into prison, then turning him over to Shephatiah, son of Pashur, and his gang of thugs to be thrown into a cistern, where, according to the writer of Jeremiah “...Jeremiah sank in the mud.” 

Jeremiah, of all people, knew about spiritual depression and what it means to feel God’s absence. After being put into the stocks, he cries to God: “O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock...everyone mocks me. For whenever I speak, I must cry out...‘Violence and destruction!’ For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and derision all day long. If I say, “I won’t mention him, or speak any more in his name,’ then within me is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot...”

So this Jeremiah now sends a letter asking your leaders to pass this message on to your people. As if rubbing it in, he says: “Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I’ve sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon...stay where you are, in exile, until you’re told otherwise. Build houses, plant gardens, find yourselves spouses and marry, beget children and arrange for spouses for your children...multiply.” Obviously, you think, this is going to be for the long haul! And the kicker is, God’s honest truth, that you’re to “seek the welfare” of Babylon, not just resign yourself to exile there; you’re to pray to God on its behalf, not curse the Babylonians or hate them...because, God says, if their land prospers, so will you; if its business is good, so will yours be; if Babylon and its people live, so will you.

What, do you think, would be your reponse to Jeremiah’s letter? Do you see in your current life-situation anything similar, whether in terms of your self, family, Church, or world? How do you and I, in times of crisis, avoid false hope, especially when perpetuated by false prophets and diviners around us? What does it mean for you and me to, symbolically, keep faith in a message like the one which God conveys through the prophet, Jeremiah, four verses after today’s passage: “For surely I know the plans I have for you,...plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope...”

In the 2nd Letter to Timothy (2:8-15) an unknown mentor who knew St. Paul writes to Timothy, probably not long after Paul’s death around the summer of 64 CE. Like Paul who’d faced many hopeless and thankless situations, some life-threatening, so this writer encourages his younger colleague, Timothy, to imitate his endurance while pastorally ministering, to “do your best” as a  “worker” approved by God, unashamedly “explaining the word of truth”, even if it’s what folks don’t want to hear. The foundation for that, he says, is “Jesus Christ, raised from the dead... -- that is my gospel, for which I suffer hardship, even to the point of being chained...”

What’s the quality of our faith? Is it a passive gift from God which you and I stow away to gather dust until we put it on display for special occasions? Or is it a gift which makes us perceptive in all situations and actively engages us, much like the soldier, the athlete, the farmer of whom the writer of 2nd Timothy speaks in the verses just before this passage?

Luke, in the Gospel (17:11-19), portrays 10 men, lepers, people afflicted with skin disease who were required by Leviticus to keep their distance, wear torn clothes, dishevel their hair, cover their upper lip and cry out, “Unclean, unclean!” They encounter Jesus at a village on the border of Samara and Galilee, “on the way to Jerusalem.” This place was a no-man’s land, neither fully Jewish territory nor fully outside of it. Here where rival religious groups had butted heads for centuries, this company of the miserable had likely, because of their disease, finally accepted separation from their kinsfolk and adjusted to living side-by-side with the “enemy”. 

Frequently after Chapter 9 of Luke’s Gospel, Luke depicts Jesus as making his way to the City of Peace, where he’ll eventually be arrested and executed by crucifixion. It could be that this wasn’t the group’s first contact with Jesus, since they simply cry out “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”, Master being a common term used by Jesus’ disciples. Note that in responding to them, Jesus speaks no healing formula nor uses any healing gesture. He simply directs them to go and have the priests examine them, as provided for in Leviticus 13-14, probably but not necessarily in Jerusalem. 

On the way, showing trust in Jesus’ instructions, but still with no assurances, the lepers suddenly realize that they’ve been cleansed, a remarkably surprising discovery in their situation. After the initial shock, nine of the lepers continue their journey, but the other one “saw that he was healed”, “turned back”, “[praised] God with a  loud voice”, then “prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.” Luke immediately notes, “And he was a Samaritan”, a person doubly despised in that area for both his leprosy and his religious loyalty. Imagine also his feelings if, indeed, it was to the priests in Jerusalem that Jesus directed him and his companions, a place where he’d be totally an outcast!

Jesus promptly wonders aloud why only one from the group returned. Where were the others? “Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” In Jesus’ mind only one thing really mattered: that this man’s faith, in contrast to the other nine who probably ran off excitedly to try and reunite with their family and friends, brought him, in the midst of a truly impossible situation, to humbly acknowledge and to glorify God. This outsider’s faith, recognizing God’s power in Jesus, just as in the time of the prophet Elisha, Naaman the Aramean, his counterpart in the Hebrew Scriptures (2 Kings 5:1-19) had done, makes the cleansed leper well, establishes his true identity, saves him.

Can we accept that God’s healing through Christ is an unconditional gift, no strings attached, to the grateful and ungrateful alike even among us today? This story seems to hint that the familiar hymn lyric is really true: “There is a wideness in God’s mercy.” Can we appreciate that God’s healing isn’t a gimmick, a sort of dramatic flourish which we can somehow pressure God into doing in order to make ourselves or others feel good? In the end, do we realize that the story isn’t about “miracles”, but rather about the “seeing” that makes one well by drawing us, whether insiders or outsiders, no matter how challenging the situation, into a surprising and saving relationship with a loving God?

“If we are faithless, God remains faithful...” “For surely I know” says the Lord God, “the plans I have for you,...plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope...”