4th Sun Lent Year A Readings 2015 (2nd Scrutiny; Jn 9:1-41)

Today, we celebrate the second of three Scrutinies that the Elect will go through on their journey to become full members of the Catholic faith community.  The Scrutinies are more than special liturgical rites for those preparing to be baptized at Easter.  This is a designated period in their journey that allows for a more intense soul-searching and careful consideration of their decision.  They need our prayers and encouragement, for their decision ultimately leads to a different way of life.  Their choice makes me wonder whether I would have done the same.  Had I not been born and raised Catholic, were I not a cradle Catholic as they say, I wonder if I would choose to become Catholic?  I’m not sure of the answer.  

What leads a person to make that sort of decision is an interesting question. When pressed for an explanation, some say that they have found a spiritual home in the Catholic Church, many for the first time in their lives.  Others say their spouse or their children inspired them to become Catholic.  Still others claim that the teachings of the Church on issues close to their hearts are so compelling that their choice was an easy one.  However one explains it, I suspect that such a choice ultimately boils down to a matter of conscience.  In one way or another, the choice just has to feel right in your gut of guts, and that is perhaps the only good reason to become Catholic. 

   

What this conversion means, however, can be stated in different ways.  The more recent converts, for example, are usually very enthusiastic in the practice of their newfound faith.  Their zeal stems from a deep appreciation for what Catholicism has to offer.  The veteran Catholic, on the other hand, often takes a more low key approach to practice.  This can lead to the perception that veteran Catholics do not fully appreciate what they have in the faith.  This approach has another meaning, however.  Many veteran Catholics have learned to walk in faith without much flourish or fanfare.  For them, this is part of what it means to be Catholic.  Thus, a low key approach to practice does not necessarily reflect a lack of appreciation for what Catholicism has to offer.  

There is also more than one way to explain what “convert” means in a Catholic sense.  Although it is true that a convert is one who comes to Catholicism from another faith tradition or background, this is not the full story.  A true convert is one who has made the Catholic way of believing his or her own.  This is a necessary step for those who become Catholic as much as it is for those who have been Catholic all of their lives.  Making the faith one’s own, so to speak, is ordinarily the culmination of a spiritual process that often takes place after one reaches adulthood.  In this sense, it is more accurate to say that, sooner or later, we are all converts to Catholicism. 

Indeed, the gospel for today calls attention to the kind of faith conversion that all of us must go through. The idea in this gospel story is to turn from darkness to light by believing in Jesus.  The healing of the man born blind is a symbol for this turn, or conversion in faith. The process is highlighted in the arguments that follow the healing.  

 

In these arguments, the central focus is on what happened and who made it happen.  The arguments themselves are carried out primarily by three groups of people who cannot see.  First are the disciples. They have been with Jesus for a long time, and yet they cling to the assumption that sickness and disability are punishment for sin.  Jesus explains to them that these are not punishment at all, but something that a true follower of his will seek to alleviate.  Jesus makes this point when he says to the disciples, “We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day.”  In other words, alleviating the suffering of others goes to the heart and soul of what it means to be a true convert in faith.    

Second among those who cannot see is the blind man himself.  Jesus touched the blind man in his physical weakness in a way that eventually moved him to a spiritual awakening.  This progression is revealed in what the man says of Jesus when asked about his cure.  At first, the man only identifies Jesus by name as the one who cured his blindness.  Pressed for more details by the Pharisees, the man digs deeper and describes Jesus as a prophet, as one sent by God.  Lastly, the man experiences complete conversion when he later encounters Jesus for a second time and confesses his belief in Jesus.  The authenticity of his conversion is revealed when the man worships Jesus.  This progressive awakening in faith is often the path that we too travel in our own spiritual journey.  And like the man born blind, we can be sure that Jesus will meet us where we are with his healing touch. 
     

Our hope and prayer is to avoid the predicament of yet a third group among those who cannot see, namely, the Pharisees. They claimed to know God’s Word and God’s Law, but failed to live its spirit.  Jesus condemns their blindness as the worst sort because they refuse to see him as the light of the world.  In fact, they find every reason not to believe in Jesus.  They try to explain away the miracle of the healing rather than accept what their eyes were telling them. 

Spiritual enlightenment is one of the primary goals we focus on during Lent.  This is true for the Elect as well as for those of us who are already Catholic.  We all need to be enlightened and to grow in faith.  We still need conversion, and conversion is what the Scrutinies are all about.  Conversion means leaving behind one way of life and taking up another.  And, the way that we seek is the way of the Lord.  This conversion is a spiritual rebirth and gift of faith from Jesus, the Light of the World. During Lent, we prepare to receive this light in order to celebrate our gift of faith once again at Easter.      

B 6 Sun 15 (Mk 1:40-45)

            The story about the man with leprosy in today’s gospel is a story about faith in God.  Today, we tend to think of faith in rather basic terms.  For many, faith is merely the belief that God exists, while the content of faith itself is a set of beliefs about God. This modern understanding of faith does not do justice to how the ancient Hebrews understood faith.  For them, faith was a two way street.  God wanted and sought out a relationship with his people, and they entered that relationship by placing their hope and trust in God. As a result, their lives centered on their faith, which in turn, shaped and influenced the way they lived.

            This is the background for the story about the leper’s faith in God.  That story begins with the first reading from the Book of Leviticus.  The ritual provisions in Leviticus spelled out the way members of the faith community were to conduct themselves in the face of contagious disease.  Those provisions led to a rather gloomy predicament for lepers in the ancient world.  Lepers were forbidden to come into the city, or to live with any others.  They had to live apart as though they were dead persons (Josephus). 

            Lepers lived apart for both practical and religious reasons. From a practical standpoint, lepers had a contagious disease that required living in isolation to limit the spread of the disease.  From a religious standpoint, the leper also was considered unclean under Mosaic Law because the disease itself was viewed as a punishment for sin.  Thus, the leper was no longer holy before God.  For this reason, the leper was cut off from the living faith community, and stood to forfeit for all time his or her relationship with God and with all others.

            The only available remedy for leprosy in the ancient world was to be healed through a direct intervention by God (Ex. 15:26), or through an appeal to God’s mercy and compassion by a prophet, such as Moses or Isaiah (Ex. 15:25; II Kings 2:21; II Kings 20:7–8).  Either way, the one who was afflicted was expected to pray and fast for healing. 

            The fortunate person who experienced a cure, however, still had to undergo a process of purification as specified in the Book of Leviticus.  First, the person went to the priest, who would affirm that a cure had taken place. Only then would the priest initiate a purification process (Dt. 24:8–9). The priest did nothing to promote or bring about the cure, however. His rituals were performed only to affirm that the disease had indeed passed, and to declare the person clean through the process of purification.  Once made clean in this manner, the person could rejoin the community of the living.   

            This context gives deeper meaning to the story in Mark’s gospel.  Notice that the man with leprosy does not ask Jesus for a cure.  Rather, he begs Jesus to make him clean, for he longs to be part of the living community.  He says to Jesus, "If you wish, you can make me clean."  This approach alone reveals the leper to be a man of belief and humble courage.  For, under Mosaic Law, because he still had the disease, he should not have approached Jesus, or any other person for that matter.  And, under the Law, Jesus should not have touched him. His desperate need to be among the living once again, however, compels the leper to seek Jesus with trust and hope.  And, in his compassion, Jesus meets the man where he is.  Their encounter shows that hope, trust and compassion are the more compelling aspects of faith than are law and ritual. It also shows that the relationship between believer and Jesus is personal.

            The actual request of the leper in these circumstances reveals even more about faith in God.  In essence, his request acknowledges Jesus’ divine power to heal, as well as his divine authority to forgive sins and welcome the sinner back into the faith community.  The leper approaches Jesus with hope to be made clean, and he trusts Jesus to respond with compassion. 

            In placing his hope and trust in the person of Jesus Christ to make good on his request, the leper reveals the true nature of faith in God.  True faith is a matter of hope and trust in God.  And, Jesus responds by affirming the authenticity of such faith when he ignores all religious and social taboo and stretches out his hand, touches the man, and says, “I do will it. Be made clean."  

             The life and mission of Jesus makes clear that he is willing to respond to us, and that he yearns for us to seek him with all boldness and without fear. For this reason, Jesus does not restrict who may seek him.  Clearly, the man with leprosy sought Jesus WHEN he was in need of healing, BEFORE he was clean.  Jesus is not saying:  Go get holy, and then knock on the door.  Rather, Jesus is saying:  Knock on the door and I will open it; I will show you how to be holy.  Seek and you will find.  From this personal standpoint, the question may be:  What do we want from Jesus.  What do we ask for?  What do we seek?  Why do we knock?  

            The encounter between Jesus and the man with leprosy demonstrates that we can approach Jesus no matter what our circumstances.  Jesus meets us where we are.  He looks for faith and is eager to respond to the faith that each of us can muster, however little or much that might be.  The leper shows that we can trust that Jesus will respond to our needs with compassion.  That is the nature of love, and the love of Jesus for each of us is reason enough to place our hope and trust in the Lord.

Baptism of the Lord B 2015 (Mk 1: 7-11)

            Jesus has a momentous encounter with God at his baptism.  It is momentous because this baptism reveals who Jesus is.  This baptism shows that Jesus is determined to carry out the will of his heavenly Father.  Notice that Jesus goes to John for baptism.  John does not come to Jesus.  This is significant, because John connects baptism with repentance, and yet Jesus does not need repentance.  Why then does Jesus go to John for baptism?  What does this baptism mean to Jesus?  What does this baptism mean for us?  

            John provides part of the answer.  John told his followers that he baptized with water so that Jesus, who would baptize with the Holy Spirit, might be made known to Israel (Jn 1:31).  In seeking baptism from John, therefore, Jesus intends to be made known beyond the shepherds and beyond the magi (Acts 19:4). 

            The identity of Jesus is made known in a dramatic way, for, the Holy Trinity is at the center of this revelation.  When Jesus comes up out of the Jordan, a voice from the heavens—the voice of the Father—declares that Jesus is his beloved Son with whom he is well pleased.  The text suggests that not everyone hears this declaration; only those who were willing to hear it. 

            At the same time, the Holy Spirit descends and comes to rest upon Jesus.  The Holy Spirit descends to anoint Jesus in preparation for his public ministry.  The Holy Spirit empowers Jesus.  The baptism of Jesus is the first public revelation of Jesus as the Son of God.  It is truly a momentous encounter with God because it is a transformation for Jesus.  At this point, Jesus leaves behind the old and puts on a new life.  He leaves behind his private life and begins a new life of public ministry, teaching others about the kingdom of God and the will of the Father.

            Jesus understands his own baptism as carrying out the will of the Father.  Jesus teaches Nicodemus that no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit (Jn 3:5).  For this reason, Jesus rebukes the Pharisees and scribes for refusing to be baptized by John.  Jesus characterizes their refusal as setting aside the will of God (Lk 7:30).  In this sense, the baptism of Jesus is a model and motivation for our own baptism.

            Through his baptism and through his teaching, Jesus shows that the whole point of baptism is to set aside the old and put on a new life.  Baptism is thus a momentous encounter with God for us as well.  Most of us would not describe our baptism in this way, because most of us were not even aware of the event.  And yet, that is exactly what baptism is—a momentous encounter with God, even for infants.  Through baptism, we encounter the Father and become united with Jesus Christ the Son, and receive the Holy Spirit. 

            From this point on, we have a new life in Christ (Rom 6:4).  The white garment that we receive at baptism symbolizes this new life.  St. Paul calls attention to this new life when he says that, “all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Gal 3:27).  This reference to a new life in Christ led to the practice in the early Church of taking off old clothes and putting on new white garments for baptism.  The symbolism is clear.  Through baptism, we leave behind the old and put on a new life.  We become the Beloved of God, commissioned to proclaim the Good News with our lives.

            We have the example of Christ to guide us.  After his baptism and anointing, Jesus entrusted himself and his mission entirely to the Holy Spirit.  As a result, the Spirit led Jesus into the desert for a period of discernment and reflection.  This desert experience gives Jesus time to make sense of his encounter with God at his baptism, and to decide how to carry out the will of the Father; how to proclaim the Good News with his life. 

            Scripture clearly shows that this was no easy process for Jesus. Nor is it always easy for us.  God nurtures and develops the new life that we receive in baptism long after the original event—if we but listen to his voice.  Do we want to hear God's voice?  God responds to willing hearts, to those who are willing to hear his message.  We read in Revelation that God stands at the door and knocks.  He promises that if we hear his voice and open the door, he will come in and eat with us, and we will be with Him (Rev 3:20).  If we want to encounter God, first we have to hear his knock; we have to hear his voice.  Only then will we know to open the door. 

            Our challenge today is to remain attentive to the voice of the one true God, for there are many gods fighting for our attention.  Like Jesus, we have the Holy Spirit to guide us. The Holy Spirit did not come on Pentecost as someone the Apostles could see and touch.  Rather, the Holy Spirit came to abide in their hearts. 

            That same Spirit comes to us today through Scripture, through the Church, through prayer, through the sacraments, through our experiences, and through each other.  The question is whether we are willing to listen to the voice of God spoken in our hearts.  The Psalmist encourages us to be still and simply know God (Ps 46:10).  This stillness is the beginning of reflection and discernment.  This is the beginning of our desert experience.  And it begins with baptism. 

A 20 Sun 14 (Mt. 15:21-28)

A 20 Sun 14  (Mt. 15:21-28)

            The story in today’s gospel is about faith and trust in God’s mercy.  The woman in the story is at her wits end.  She has no further means to help her afflicted daughter.  She is in desperate need of divine assistance and courageously begs Jesus for mercy. 

            She is not at all put off by the disciples who would have Jesus make her go away.  Instead, she approaches Jesus with gritty faith and complete trust that he is the one who can and will heal her daughter.  The story ends on a positive note because Jesus fulfills the Canaanite woman’s request.  He does so, however, only after she unravels a dilemma for him.

            Jesus presents the woman with a dilemma when he in effect says to her, what can I do?  My hands are tied.  My ministry is to the lost sheep of Israel.  Fulfilling your request would be like giving the bread of children to dogs under the table.

            And, then he waits.   Jesus does not dismiss the woman, nor does say that he will not fulfill her request.  Rather, he engages her in conversation, and invites her to respond to his dilemma.  Jesus waits for her response, because how she responds will be a measure of her faith. 

            This requirement that Jesus levies on the Canaanite woman is a very different approach than Jesus had taken earlier with the Centurion.  Earlier, the Centurion had asked Jesus to heal his servant—not his daughter, but a mere servant (Mt. 8:5-13).  And like the Canaanite woman, the Centurion also did not belong to the house of Israel.  And yet, when the Centurion asks Jesus to heal his servant, Jesus responds without hesitation, and heals the servant immediately.  Jesus imposes no conditions on the centurion’s request.  But when the Canaanite woman makes her request, Jesus hesitates.  He does not heal her daughter without first asking her to solve his dilemma.

            Such a difference violates an ordinary sense of fairness.  Even so, it seems compatible with what St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans about receiving the mercy of God.  In that letter, Paul reminds us of what God said to Moses: “I will show mercy to whom I will; I will take pity on whom I will.”  From this, Paul concludes that God’s mercy does not depend upon a person's will or exertion, but upon God’s own judgment (Rm. 9:15-16). 

            What then motivates God to show mercy?  Should we say that the woman gets the mercy she wants because she has pluck?  Mercy on those terms could be understood as a reward that one bargains for with courage and determination.  The disciples who were traveling with Jesus at the time displayed this level of understanding.  They asked Jesus to heal the woman so that she would go away and stop bothering them.  They wanted to rid themselves of an irritation through the magic of God’s mercy.  Perhaps a more timid and less determined soul would have come away empty handed. 

            But, Jesus would have none of this reasoning.  Jesus develops a deeper understanding of God’s mercy.  He reminds the disciples that his mission is to the lost sheep of Israel.  This reference indicates that neither his mission nor God’s mercy are subject to whimsy and control.  God’s mercy is not a bargaining chip for the shrewd.  Something much more profound is at stake, namely, the relationship between God and his people.  Jesus aims to show that belonging to the house of Israel is not a birthright.  Rather, it is a matter of faith and trust.  Thus, the mercy of God is likewise a matter of faith as well as trust in the love of God.  

            This is exactly the point that Jesus develops by deliberately engaging the Canaanite woman in conversation.  Despite what some have claimed, Jesus does not use the occasion to call this Gentile woman a dog.  Rather, he takes this opportunity to demonstrate for the disciples that faith and trust are central to God’s mercy.  This is why Jesus presents the woman with a riddle to resolve. 

            And, resolve it she does.  Her response that even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the table reveals a profound understanding of God’s mercy.  Through her own faith and trust in God, she reveals that love is the true impetus behind the mercy of God.  In other words, you feed dogs because you love them. We cast our cares upon God because God loves us and he generously responds to our faith and trust (1 Pt. 5:7).

             Her response virtually overwhelms Jesus.  He acknowledges her faith with emotion:  “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”  Jesus endorses the way she unravels the dilemma because it demonstrates that the mercy of God stems from a living communion with the God of love (Dulles).  This is what prompts the Psalmist to declare, “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on the faithful” (Ps. 103:13).

            We can trust God’s compassion and mercy, even though we know that God does not always answer our prayers in the way we want or as fast as we want.  Yet, we can be sure that when we ask, we shall receive.  That is the nature of faith.  We can also be sure that whatever we receive will be for our good.  That is the nature of love.