Abuse of the Abuse

The trauma of the past several years of abuse crisis in the Church have done tremendous harm.  I don’t mean to sound sanctimonious about it but these cases have set up a wall between clergy and young people – one which has its effects in how we relate to one another.  It’s a terrible thing to live with – the betrayal of trust by the few coming to bear on the many…casting its ugly shadow on those who have done nothing wrong.  I’m not trying to downplay the immense harm done by the perpetrators – I’m not trying to direct attention away from their darkness or blunt the horror of their crimes…I’m just saying that now there is a completely new playing field – one where a cleric must be wary of suspicion and must contort all his actions so as to be above reproach -  even to the creation of an off-putting distance and the avoidance of all possibility of a compromising situation…or even the appearance of one.  What is this climate of suspicion and ultrasensitivity doing to the relationship between shepherd and sheep, Father and parishioner, priest and penitent?  Maybe we should say it’s an acceptable trade-off so as to guarantee (or come as close to it as we can) that this despicable sin never happen again…I don’t know.  But sometimes I wonder who it’s serving and who is getting lost in the shuffle?  I mean what does it say when a priest has to think first about how to protect himself before he invites someone in for tea and a chat…what impact does this have on his ability to get to know those for whom he is ministering?  Has Jesus foresaw this difficulty and if so what has he to say about it – or is he just leaving it to us, his chosen ministers, to figure it out on our own?  Sometimes, it seems like that.
In today’s first reading Isaiah does everything in his power to encourage the people listening to him to mend their paths, to return to the Lord, to be cleansed from their sin.  He even says, “Come now, let us argue it out together – says the Lord.”   This indicates (to me at least) that we can bring anything - even the most divisive, ugly and unsettling realities to the Lord in seeking understanding.  But let us do so in a spirit of faith…even if that faith is weakened by scandal or misunderstanding. 

Second Sunday of Lent 2015

It seems almost every day during the past week the militant group ISIS or Islamic state has been in the news...one day members seen smashing ancient statues, another day committing acts of gross violence, another day news of the group recruiting several people from Quebec to join their cause in the Middle East.  Recently they seem to have targeted their approach and intimidation on groups of Christians - a fact largely overlooked by the major news outlets.  And it seems that the West and even local governments lack the will to deal effectively with the threat - and so the threat grows. 

I don't think it the case that the world has necessarily grown more violent - 70 years ago at the close of World War II the list of those dead far surpasses anything we see today...but there is no question that evil, and its capacity to radicalize individuals and to cause immense trauma has lost none of its lustre.  The employment of new tools such as the Internet to spread hate only showcases evil's capacity for improvisation and that the drama of the battle between good and evil - and its effects in the heart of man - continues to be waged.  Some see violence as the only method of response to such a malicious and ongoing threat - the answer for them seems to be to bomb ISIS out of existence - to outgun them and overwhelm them.  But there will never be enough bombs to undercut evil in the heart of man.  It may be that such a show of force only deepens the resolve of those under its sway.  And yet what choice is pacifism - as it only encourages further atrocities?  There must be another path - one that you and I can tread.  It is against this tangible and complex backdrop that we consider Jesus in today's Gospel. 

Don't get me wrong - I don't want to give the wrong impression - I don't think Jesus' actions in today's Gospel are intended as a commentary on just war theory or how to deal with terrorists...So perhaps we should bracket that opening segue and deal with the passage on its own terms. 

The scene has much more to do with establishing the divinity of Jesus.  Jesus takes with him Peter, James and John, his closest disciples, up the hillside and is transfigured before them.  His clothes become a dazzling white, his body bursts forth with light, and the Father's voice is heard, "This is my Beloved Son, listen to Him."  A command is given and an identity is revealed.  By affirming "this is my Son" God the Father reveals the Son's co-divinity placing the Son on the same level of the Father.  By saying, "listen to Him" the Father reveals that Jesus' very word is the word of the Father, that the Son is the representative of the Father on earth.  As if this revelation were not enough, the Apostles then see Jesus speaking with Moses and Elijah – the two pillars of the Law and the Prophets in ancient Judaism.  Peter, clearly still not aware of the import of what he is seeing, offers to make three tents – as if placing them equally on par with one another – it is at this point that the Father’s voice is heard – setting Jesus apart with the divine authentication as the Beloved Son of God, higher by far than Moses or Elijah.  But the significance of the Transfiguration in today’s Gospel cannot be properly understood without realizing that the revelation takes place in the context of Jesus announcing his suffering and death.  He does this just prior to the event of the Transfiguration and he continues in the spirit of this proclamation as soon as Jesus and the three disciples leave the mountain.  In fact, they have not even reached the bottom of the hill before Jesus has warned them not to make known what they have seen until after his death and Resurrection.  The fact of Jesus’ impending death seems to fly over the disciple’s heads – as no one thinks to ask him what he possibly could mean – especially since their understanding of the Messiah was that he would usher in a new military power to overthrow the enemies of Israel and to establish a new era of peace through militaristic clout and power. 

Instead the divinity of the Son of God and his impending suffering are intimately linked.  There is no Savior without His cross. Or, as another preacher puts it, “clearly, cross and glory belong together.’  This is clearly something the followers of Jesus found difficult to imagine – it is once again Peter who says of Jesus’ suffering “Lord, let this never be!”  Do we understand it any better?  Do we not dabble in the politics of power and long for the ability to dominate rather than finding ourselves in the unenviable position of suffering – or of experiencing weakness of one sort or another?

Unavoidable suffering – the kind that cannot be vanquished by science, medicine or technology always has the capacity to put us in solidarity with all those who suffer – and in many cases with those who suffer more grievously than we do.  This solidarity is a powerful antidote to the logic of power and dominance – it is something we can choose to experience through sickness (if we are experiencing problems with our health) or maybe to a lesser extent through some form of Lenten penance – the giving up of some comfort food or experience.  So much of our daily energy is devoted to escaping from any form of discomfort and yet this is precisely one avenue through which we can discover our solidarity or unity with many others in the world. 

What would have happened if Jesus stayed on the mountain, where it was comfortable, amazing, affirming – where God’s word was clearly heard and the dark shadow of the cross was nowhere to be seen?  No, he was called beyond the place of comfort and affirmation to do God’s will – even when this meant following the dark and harrowing Way of the Cross.

The blessing of the Transfiguration was given to Peter, James and John to strengthen them for what was coming – not merely to edify them in the present moment.

How is God, this Lent, inviting you to follow Him beyond your comfort zone and place of affirmation?

How might He be challenging you, through today’s Gospel, to reevaluate the meaning and place of solidarity, struggle and suffering?

  

The 'Guillotine' and grace

There is a saying "Nothing sharpens the mind like the guillotine." That is, when faced with death or a close brush with death things instantly become clearer...the mind is more focused and aware.  This life and death situation is exactly where Queen Esther finds herself in today's first reading.
There is a man, high up in political power, who is seeking the destruction not only of Queen Esther but of all the Jewish people.  Today's passage catches up with Esther just before she goes in to plead with the king (who is not himself a Jew and who has not invited Esher to enter the royal court - another no no).  We hear the prayer Esther makes, under her breath, as it were, before she enters the court of the king to attempt to sway his favor and save herself and her people.
The prayer is telling.  Esther acknowledges that she has 'heard of the Lord' and how He chose the people of Israel...but today she calls on Him not as a mere memory of her childhood but from the depths of her clear and present danger.
SHe addresses God directly - asking Him to 'put eloquent speech in my mouth'.  On this day Esther's relationship with God moves from her head to her heart - from an intellectual 'knowing-about-God' to a deep and personal cry for deliverance.
Told another way the story of Esther might cause us to reflect on how reaching 'rock bottom' or the end of our natural strength can open us up to a new outpouring of God's grace.  As Lent continues let us not be surprised if God allows us to bump into our own weakness and failures - as these can open us up to a new reliance on God...can draw us closer than if we had floated perfectly through Lent.  - homily Thursday Feb 26

Forgiveness

One of the most recurring and understandable of human shortcomings involves taking things and people for granted.  We often get it backwards - whereas people are to be loved and things are to be used all too often we are guilty of switching the two around - and things are loved and people are used. It is a temptation and we must constantly be on our guard against it...because it undermines human dignity and seeks to keep us walled in on ourselves.  It also tends to make us think more highly of ourselves than really merited.
The gospel today asks us to consider the one who refuses to extend forgiveness to another...in a sense taking for granted the forgiveness routinely extended to us by God; in doing so we hold ourselves above others, seeing ourselves as more worthy and more upright  and more deserving of God's time and affection.  And yet Jesus today points out that this attitude instead leads us away from God - it's a self-righteousness that fails to impress God at all - and instead alienates us from God.  The God that Jesus presents in today's Gospel is one who longs for us to see our own need for understanding and forgiveness - and urges us to extend this understanding and forgiveness to our fellow man - rather than getting wrapped up in our own accomplishments, holiness and influence.
As we continue our Lenten pilgrimage there are many areas of our lives that are in need of God's healing power and forgiveness - let us not be stingy in extending this very healing forgiveness to other who are in need of experiencing God in this blessed and powerful way.
Jesus, heal our sinfulness, help us to walk more in line with the path you mark out for us - even when this involves extending forgiveness to others or to ourselves.  - homily for Tuesday Feb 24, 2005

5th Sunday of Lent

Today’s gospel begins by relating that a certain man, Lazarus, was ill.  Jesus is sent word of his illness – because of his deep friendship with the man and his two sisters Mary and Martha – yet he stays on another two days where he is.  When he does deem it time to head out for Bethany we are told that his disciples caution him against it saying, “Rabbi, the people there were just trying to stone you, and are you going there again?”  But his mind was firm…they would return to Bethany.  Here the courageous apostle Thomas says, “Let us go and die with him” – hardly a doubting Thomas he encouraged them to put all their trust in Jesus.  Jesus explains that Lazarus has died and that they are going to go to him.  John the evangelist points out that by the time Jesus arrived Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days.  By indicating four days John makes it abundantly clear that Lazarus was indeed dead.  Shortly before arriving at the village Jesus is met by Martha who tells him “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.”  Jesus tells her, “your brother will rise again” and he says “I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in me, even though they die, will live.”  Then he asks her, “Do you believe this?”  She replies, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.”  After meeting Mary, Martha’s sister, Jesus begins to weep and is ‘greatly disturbed’.  Some even question, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”  Then Jesus came to the tomb itself.  “Take away the stone” he commands.  Martha protests, “Lord, already there is a stench because it has been four days.”  But Jesus was resolute, after praying to the Father Jesus faced the dark tomb and called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”  And the dead man came out still wrapped in burial clothes.  And Jesus said, “Unbind him and let him go.”

When Jesus said those words, “Lazarus, come out!” it was both a literal command and a higher calling.  On the level of literal command Jesus’ words meant simply ‘come out from the tomb’, but they also had a secondary significance.  The word used for the command is unusual and is used only in one other place in Scripture, where Jesus invites (indeed commands) the rich young man to ‘follow me’.  Thus when Jesus calls to Lazarus into the dark of the dreary tomb he not only calls him in body but calls him to follow him in discipleship and conversion.  This fifth Sunday of Lent can we not see ourselves in that tomb – a place of darkness and lack of life – and can we hear Jesus voice calling out to us, calling us to leave that dark place of sin behind and to come follow him?  We are to hear his voice above the crowd speaking to us from beyond the grave of our poor choices as he seeks to, as the first reading indicates, open our graves and have us rise from them.

‘Lazarus, come out!’ invites us to hear the Scriptures speaking to us directly.  Sin in our lives is a type of bondage, a type of tomb, a type of death.  Jesus is standing at the tomb-like places in our life and in our society and beckoning us, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The places of darkness are often in areas of our own life, excesses, addictions, laziness, the coldness of heart that sometimes we allow to develop in us.  The places of darkness in our society, places where the loss of life happens as if by routine, at the Morgentaler clinic, among the homeless poor, those with mental health problems left to slip through the system, the lack of financial stability for so many.  These are the highways and byways where Jesus continues to stand marginalized and alone.  And we are to echo his voice so that others may live more decently – so that the most defenseless may live at all…for there are no rights at all when the fundamental right to life is undermined.     

“Lazarus, come out!”  These are words that are meant to cement our identity as Christ-followers, we are to come out of the shadows of our indifference and follow him, the Christ, the one who is the resurrection and the life.  Like Mary and Martha we are to lean into our faith when the going gets tough, when the losses stack up and threaten to overwhelm us.  When it seems we are a cog in a gigantic wheel and have no say in the right ordering of things.  When it appears the worst has happened we are to listen for that voice, ringing out in the midst of our tomb, ‘come out’ and believe…’come out’ and trust…’come out’ and pray…’come out’ and carry the cross which seems too much for you…for you are never alone and the one who beckons you is faithful, even when the most difficult is allowed to take place.  Do not give up hope.  Do not surrender hope.  It is then that He is calling you.  

3rd Sunday of Lent

Today’s gospel is rich in symbolism.  It begins in an unassuming way, Jesus came to a Samaritan city and, tired by his journey, was sitting by the well.  We should note that Jesus was tired – ‘a sign of his true humanity’ which can be seen as a prelude to his Passion (Benedict XVI).  Wells in the Old Testament times were traditionally places of encounter, almost like a courtship – a place of encounter between individuals who would later be married.  So here we have Jesus, tired out from his journey, sitting by this place of encounter.  He is thirsty, not just for water, but for faith.  This theme of thirst will come up again later in John’s gospel where Jesus will cry from the cross, “I thirst”.  While this thirst does have a physical component Jesus’ words go further and ‘imply a thirsting for the woman’s faith and for the faith all mankind (Pope Benedict XVI)’.  The woman’s curiosity is piqued – ‘How is it that you, a Jew, ask me a Samaritan for a drink?’  The text tells us that Jews and Samaritans share nothing in common.  Jews and Samaritans in fact shared a common lineage up to a certain point in history, they are descendants from the same people – however, by the time of Christ, a long-standing divide existed between them.  Jesus goes on to talk of ‘living water’ – this ‘living water’ that he would give if he were to be asked.  Again the woman is cautious but interested in finding out more - ‘You have no bucket and the well is deep.  Where do you get that living water?’  Jesus does not directly answer her question but tells her that this water will become in the one who possesses it ‘a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’  Her response is simple: ‘Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.’ 

The water in the gospel story “clearly” refers to the sacrament of baptism, “the source of new life for the faith in the grace of God.” The water represents the Holy Spirit, the gift “par excellence” that Jesus brings to man from God the Father.

“Each one of us can take the place of the Samaritan woman. “Jesus waits for us, especially in this time of Lent, to speak with us. Let us pause for a moment in silence in our room, or in a church or in a secluded place.”

“Listen to his voice that tells us ‘If you knew the gift of God…’,”

He closed with the prayer: “May the Virgin Mary help us not to miss this event, on which depends our true happiness.”  -  Pope Benedict XVI

After this initial encounter – when the Samaritan woman says – give me this water Jesus asks her to call her husband.  She responds by saying, I have no husband.  Jesus responds, ‘You are right in saying ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands and the one you have now is not your husband.  What you have said is true!’  The woman, rather than being scared away or accusing Jesus of judging her simply says, ‘Sir, I see you are a prophet.’  In other words, I see that you know the truth of my situation – you see into the disorder of my life clearly, without being told by another – you have spoken the truth to me.  She says to him, “I know the Messiah is coming” – when he comes he will also see into all truth.  Jesus says to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”  Without another word this woman of questionable reputation leaves her water jar and goes to spread the word about Jesus.  She leaves her water jar, that is, her old life, and pursues the new, telling others about Jesus, saying to them, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!  He cannot be the Messiah can he?”  Through her sharing many came to believe.  And then through that event many more came to believe because they asked Jesus to stay with them; and he stayed there two days.  Then they said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”  Here we see the grace of God’s spirit at work through Jesus – as his thirst is met with that of other thirsting souls – thirsting to know the truth, thirsting to be known, thirsting to be in the presence of God.  This is the grace given to us through our baptism and we pray that through our Lenten observance that our baptismal graces may once more be renewed.  That we, in a sense, might leave the water jar of our old life and pursue the new, telling others about Jesus.  We pray that this new water, which bubbles up to eternal life may come to rest within us by the gift of the Savior, who comes to console us in our moments of collapse and tiredness along the road of the cross.  As the second reading reminds us, “rarely will anyone die for a righteous person – though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die.  But God proves his love for us that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”  Christ has not abandoned us along the road of our lives but rather He seeks us out, be it in the good or evil circumstances of our lives.  He is like the one sitting by the well, attempting to woo our love, attempting to wed us to himself and his Church.  Seeking to dialogue with us through the Scriptures, through the sacraments, through our everyday lives.    All too often we are like the people of the first reading who quarrel and test the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”  But the Lord understands even this.  Just know that He is reaching out to you today, through the grace of baptism, seeking to reawaken in you his deep love; deeper than the waters of any ocean and more mighty than the surging of the sea.   We, each one of us, are the woman at the well, and Jesus approaches us each time we gather at the Eucharist to infuse us with new life, to convict us to turn away from sin in our lives and to be faithful to the gospel.  As we continue our Lenten journey may we do so with a renewed sense of his concern and call to conversion in our lives.