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.

Fourth Sunday of Advent 2014

            In the Annunciation story, the focus is usually on the “Yes” that Mary ultimately gives to the Lord’s invitation, despite her initial confusion and fear. The message is delivered by an Angel who engages Mary in dialogue.  During their conversation, the Angel reveals to Mary what the Lord has in store for her.  This revelation is not meant to impose an obligation on Mary, however.  Rather, the Lord waits for her response. Apparently, none of this scenario will unfold as it is revealed unless Mary gives her consent.  Although Mary starts out perplexed and afraid, ultimately she does indeed give her consent with the now familiar reply, “I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done unto me according to your Word.”

Another focus in the Annunciation story worthy of attention is what Mary says first in response to the Angel.  Before Mary says yes, she gives voice to her confusion and asks the Angel a question:  “How can this be?”  This is the first thing that Mary says, for clearly she has some misgivings over what this message will mean for her and for Joseph.  From a practical standpoint alone, none of it fits with what she and Joseph have already planned.  The Angel responds to her question with an answer that apparently either satisfies her, or at least allays her fears.  For, only after Mary receives the Angel’s explanation, as mysterious as it is, does she respond with her yes.  This simple response not only expresses Mary’s consent; it also expresses her profound trust in the Lord that things will work out for the best. 

We have the advantage of hindsight to know much about how things did work out for Mary and Joseph, as well as for Jesus; indeed, for the whole world.  But, the question for us today has to do with what the story means for us.  What lesson can we draw from the story of the Annunciation and from Mary’s reaction to that mysterious invitation given by the Lord so long ago.  There are at least three aspects of the story that hold meaning for us today.

First, it’s okay to ask God what’s going on.  Although it was clear that the Angel was a messenger from the Lord, Mary was not afraid to ask what was happening. Her question shows that she is paying attention to God, to his message, and to her own life.  The same holds true for us.  When we ask God about what is happening, we show him that we are not just wandering around in the wilderness refusing to ask for directions.  We care about his message and want to know and understand what he has in store for us.

Second, God will tell us.  The Angel did not brush off Mary’s question.  The Angel answered with an explanation of how things would unfold.  Only then did Mary put her trust in the Lord.  We probably shouldn’t expect an angel to appear with answers to our questions, but we can be sure that God will provide the answer.  Ask and you shall receive.  Seek and you shall find.  Knock and it will be opened.  We just have to listen with our hearts, as Mary did.  God may tell us through Scripture, through his creation, or through his messengers. And, who are his messengers?  His messengers are his friends—our friends, our family, our associates and sometimes even total strangers to us.  God speaks to us through others, sometimes unlikely others.  The Angel, after all, was an unlikely messenger and total stranger to Mary.

Third and finally, after God tells us what’s going on, we may well feel empowered and brave enough to take on the challenge, whatever it may be.  Mary clearly did not get a complete picture from her dialogue with the Angel.  But, this did not prevent her from accepting the Word of the Lord with courage and trust.  The Lord reciprocated her trust with the gift of the Holy Spirit, who empowered Mary to carry out her role in God’s will to the fullest.  Likewise, we don’t have to have all the answers before we go forward with trust in the Lord.  For, we have the same assurance from Jesus that the Holy Spirit will overshadow us, guide us in his way, teach us all truth, and remain with us until the end of time.  With the Holy Spirit at our side, we can be sure things will work out for the best.

The irony in Mary’s response to the Angel is that she most likely did not understand or perceive the reality at that moment that she was to give birth to the Word of God made flesh. Mary accepted this idea at face value without a full understanding, and her acceptance paved the way for countless others to encounter the Word of God as well.  We find that Word in Jesus, in how he lived his life, in how and what he taught, and in how he remained true to his mission.  He remained steadfast even when others set out to kill him for his unconventional beliefs and teachings.  As a result, we have the opportunity to imitate Jesus and through him come to know the Father better.

You might say that today’s reading is a Profile in Courage.  Mary, a young girl, has the courage and temerity to ask God, “What’s going on?”  Through his messenger, God tells her, although it is a mysterious explanation.  And, despite the mystery and her own personal fear, Mary accepts with courage what she hears, namely, that the Holy Spirit will overshadow her and empower her to carry out the will of God.  Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will overshadow us, and that we will listen to the Word so that we can be courageous and true to Jesus, and true to the Father’s will for us in our own lives.

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. 

Corpus Christi

John 6:51-58

Hunger and thirst are powerful forces.  Either one alone can shape our journey or impede it.  Either one alone can mean the difference between life and death.  This is true on a physical level as much as a spiritual level.  The readings for today contain some rather astonishing claims that speak to a profound spiritual hunger and thirst that we all have.  Moses claims that we need God's word as much as we need food to live.  Paul claims that we are literally bound together as one body when we partake of the one loaf.  Jesus claims that his body and blood are true food and true drink and the very source of eternal life.

Indeed, the gospel readings for the past several weeks show that Jesus recognizes and speaks to our spiritual hunger, and that he longs to nourish our spiritual needs. To demonstrate this point, Jesus often uses dramatic language in revealing the purpose of his life and mission.  He once described himself as the light of the world (Jn 8:12).  Another time, he described himself as the way, the truth and the life (Jn14:6).  Yet another time, Jesus referred to himself as the true vine and his followers as the true branches (Jn 15:1-5).  Those who heard such talk did not think Jesus was speaking literally.  They understood and accepted his language as nothing more than analogy, a comparison, for the sake of revelation.  

When Jesus referred to himself as the bread of life come down from heaven, however, many had a very different response.  In fact, many went away in disbelief when Jesus claimed that, “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day” (Jn 6:53-55). Many disciples also found this teaching too difficult, and they “returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him” (Jn 6:66).

This is a puzzling response from the very disciples who were also witness to some astonishing miracles by Jesus—feeding the multitude with a few loaves of bread and some fish, raising the dead, driving out demons, curing the lame and disabled.  Thus the difficulty these disciples had with the bread of life teaching was NOT because they misunderstood Jesus’ ability to make good on his claim.  Rather, the disciples had difficulty because they knew that Jesus was no longer speaking allegorically.  They knew he was speaking in a literal sense.  From their perspective, Jesus had crossed the line.

Jesus crossed the line with the promise of eternal life to those who ate his flesh and drank his blood.  Some of the disciples objected to this promise because, in their view, only God is the source of life.  Thus, for Jesus to claim that he too could give eternal life through his own body and blood was tantamount to claiming that he was God.  And that claim, as far as some of the disciples were concerned, was blasphemy. This perceived blasphemy is why many of the disciples objected to his promise and abandoned Jesus.

The Twelve, however, that small band of loyal followers, remained with Jesus.  They remained because they believed that Jesus was the “Holy One of God” (Jn 6:69; cf. Mt 16:21, Mk 8:29, Lk 9:20).  When Jesus asks the Twelve whether they too want to leave, Peter’s response demonstrates the basis of their loyalty: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:67-68). This response gives no indication, however, that the Twelve found the “bread of life” teaching any less radical than those who left.

 

The picture that emerges at the Last Supper, however, is quite different.  When the disciples gather with Jesus for the last time in the Upper Room and hear him declare that the bread and wine are his body and blood, they express no doubt or astonishment over his words and actions.  Nor is there any suggestion that any of them abandoned Jesus at this time.  In fact, Scripture suggests that the only concern of the disciples at this time was the fear of being accused as the betrayer of Jesus.

 

The contrast between the first and last reactions of the disciples to the bread of life teaching reflects a gradual, yet remarkable, transformation in perception and belief.    Their transformation suggests that perceiving Jesus in the Eucharist, as well as perceiving Jesus in others, is a gradual consequence of spiritual nourishment that takes place over time.

The lesson for us is clear.  When Jesus said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst” (Jn6:35), he in fact claims that he can nourish our spirits, that he can give life to our souls.  He claims that he is enough for all.

The difficulty for many today is that we doubt this possibility.  We do not know how to find genuine nourishment.  We look for it in the wrong places.  We spend our spiritual coin for what is not bread; our wages for what fails to satisfy.  Many of us live in spiritual poverty.  We have nothing to eat or drink.  We are not satisfied.

Yet, the Lord Jesus calls us out of our poverty.  He invites all of us to come to his banquet.  All we have to do is bring our hunger and our thirst to him and do as he says.  When we bring what we have to Christ—our needs and ourselves—and unite them to him, Christ becomes the foundation of our lives and he changes us.

 

Our relationship with Jesus then motivates us to imitate what he says and how he acts.  When we put on the mind of Christ, as St. Paul instructs us, we find reason and desire to share our gifts with others in a spirit of love.  We find reason to live the truth in love.  When we take Jesus into our hearts through word and sacrament, we become what he is, and our eternal life begins here and now.