Law of the Gift

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, year B | Mark 9:30-37

I recently read an article from someone who quit his job spent the last year travelling around world. The writer explained that he made the decision to travel because he had had enough of the cycle of waking up, going to work, eating dinner, going to sleep and waking up in the morning only to do it all over again. He was unable to find meaning in this daily grind and thought to himself that surely there must be more to life than this. We can all probably identify with the writer’s attitude. At times, our routine and responsibilities can weigh us down. We can feel like our life is without meaning. Unlike the writer, however, most of us probably cannot leave everything and travel the world for the year in search of purpose! What then are we to do? Today’s Gospel would suggest that what can be more important than changing what we do each day is changing the attitude or spirit with which we do the things that we do.

Jesus teaches us that a meaningful life is one in which you live your life as a gift for others. We find purpose when we work, study and serve our family and others because we want to make of ourselves a gift to those around us. We have all probably experienced the joy and sense of meaning that comes when we freely choose to give of ourselves (our time and talents) to others. Can you remember the last time that you felt this way? Maybe you helped a family member or friend when they were in trouble. Perhaps you volunteered in your community in some way. That we find joy and purpose when we give ourselves to others is sometimes called the “law of the gift”. St. John Paul II would often explain this law by saying that every human being cannot fully find themselves, except through a sincere gift of themselves. This is the logic of the cross that we see in the Gospel. Jesus explains that he will only gain life for himself and for others after he has given himself over totally to be killed. Further, after Jesus learns that his disciples were arguing among themselves about who was the greatest, he instructs them that whoever wants to be first of all must be the servant of all. Jesus teaches us that we find our true purpose when we live our lives as a gift for other.

Martyrs lived in a special way the law of the gift and are powerful examples for us. This coming Wednesday (September 26th), we will celebrate in Canada the feast of the Canadian Martyrs. Among these martyrs is St. Jean Brébeuf, a Jesuit missionary who travelled from France to New France (now part of Canada) in 1625 in order to serve as a missionary to the indigenous. Although it could be argued that some of his writings are tinged by a certain attitude, which unfortunately was all to common at the time, of the superiority of European over indigenous culture, it is impossible to read his writings and not be struck by the genuine love and devotion that he had for those he served, especially the Huron people. Brébeuf devoted himself to learning the language, culture and spirituality of the people that he was trying to introduce to faith in Jesus. Ultimately, he was captured by a hostile indigenous group, and, along with some converts from the Huron people, was horrible tortured and ultimately killed. Brébeuf died alongside the very people he had given his life to serve. During his life, Brébeuf had various opportunities to choose a different, more comfortable life, however, he found his purpose and joy by making his life a gift to others in a radical way.
By Thwaites, Reuben Gold, 1853-1913 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
In order to live the law of the gift and experience a deeper sense of purpose in our life, we may need to change our attitude towards work, school or other difficult or monotonous tasks. Instead of doing more, we may need to think differently about what we do. I am not going to suggest to you that you need to spend more time serving others. Although there may be some of us who do need to help others more, most of the people I have met in parishes spend much of their lives serving others. There are parents who make sacrifices constantly to care for their children. There are those who work day in and day out at a job that can often be unfulfilling in order to provide for their family. There are grandparents who do so much to help care for their grandchildren. There are people who, though already busy, give what little free time they have to volunteer in their parish or around the community. Although we have all at some time felt the joy that comes from living the law of the gift, in our daily routine it can be hard to experience this. Even with tasks we know are important and meaningful, a certain heaviness can sink in. When this happens, it is important that we evaluate the reason why we do difficult tasks and perhaps make an adjustment. Are we motivated by a sense of obligation or necessity? We can regain meaning in our life when we choose to have the attitude that the things we do each day, whether it be at work, school or in the family, are our way of making ourselves a gift to others.

The Greek word used for “conversion” in the New Testament, metanoia, literally means to change one’s mind. Living the law of the gift requires such a change of mind. We can find purpose and meaning in the midst of our daily grind by changing the spirit with which we approach our work and responsibilities. Is there an aspect of your life, whether it be in your family, school or at work, that you find particularly difficult? Can you begin to think of this as one way that you are making your life a gift to others?

Peter gets it right. Sort of...

24th Sunday of Ordinary Time, year B | Mark 8:27-35


If you were to type in “Jesus” into a Google image search, you would see a wide variety of representations of Jesus. Images range from a regal-looking Jesus in a Byzantine icon, to a painting of Jesus from the 1970’s where he looks a lot like a surfer. People have always pictured Jesus differently Since our goal as Christians is to become like Jesus, that is, to imitate Jesus, the way that we perceive the identity of Jesus will greatly affect how we try to live. In the Gospel today (Mark 8:27-35), Jesus asks Peter a direct question about his identity: “who do you say that I am?” In his answer, Peter gets the identity of Jesus right. Well, sort of.


Peter is correct to say that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah. He got that much right. The location, the region of Caesarea Philippi, in which Peter made this assertion is significant. Caesarea Philippi was a city built by Philip, the son of Herod the Great, in a place of great natural beauty to the North of the Sea of Galilee. This area was closely associated with two figures who many revered as gods and bringers of salvation. First, in the region of Caesarea Philippi there was a famous shrine to the Greek god pan. It was an important place of pilgrimage which people visited to seek assistance from this god of the wild. It was a kind of pagan Lourdes. Second, this area was also home to a shrine to Augustus Caesar, a ruler who was referred to by titles such as “Son of God”, “Lord” and “Saviour”. It is, therefore, significant that it was in Caesarea Philippi that Peter made his declaration about Jesus. In a place saturated with devotion to the god Pan and to Caesar, figures some looked to as saviours, Peter claims that Jesus is the Christ, the anointed one sent by God to save his people. Peter asserts that Jesus, and not Pan or Caesar, is the true saviour.
The remains of the Pan sanctuary
(source: EdoM [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
Although Peter is right to say that Jesus is the Christ, he has misunderstood completely what kind of Messiah Jesus is. He therefore failed to grasp how Jesus would accomplish God’s work of salvation. Have you ever had the experience when you use a particular word for quite a while only to discover some time later that you misunderstood what the word meant and were using it incorrectly all along? Whenever I visit an elementary school classroom to talk about the priesthood and vocations, I usually ask the class if anyone can explain what a “seminary” is. Without fail, one of the students will shout back, “the place where they bury dead people!” Peter is right to call Jesus the Christ, but he clearly has the wrong idea of what it means for Jesus to be the Christ. Peter, like many Jews at the time, was probably expecting the Messiah to be a mighty ruler who would cast off the burden of Roman oppression with military might. When Jesus explained that he would suffer, be rejected and put to death, Peter cannot accept it. This was not the kind of Messiah that he expected Jesus to be. A Messiah could not suffer in this way! In response to Peter’s protests, Jesus rebukes him, calling him Satan, the adversary. Jesus makes it clear that Peter has not yet grasped what kind of Christ he truly is.


If we, like Peter, misunderstand what kind of Messiah Jesus is, then we misunderstand what it means to follow him. If the purpose of our life is to imitate Christ, then the way we picture Jesus will shape the manner of our life. We go seriously astray as Christians when we have the wrong idea about Jesus’ identity. For example, a popular movement in Christianity preaches the prosperity gospel. In a nutshell, this teaches that if we follow Christ we will obtain material prosperity. In order to justify such a claim, adherents convince themselves that Jesus himself was actually quite rich (e.g.). Sure, Jesus was born in a manger, but he received expensive gifts, didn’t he? Or, if we picture Jesus as some kind of prototypical hippie wandering the countryside (like in the “surfer Jesus” image), then we might understand Christianity to be just another means to self-actualization and fulfillment. In the Gospel, Jesus is clear about what kind of Christ he is and therefore what it means to follow him. He is a Messiah who will lay down his life. He will rise, but first he must die. If we want to follow him, then we too must lay down our life. Following Jesus requires sacrificing ourselves out of love for others. The path leads to life, but it is radical, challenging and costs everything.


The image that we have of Jesus is important because it determines the type of Christian that we strive to be. In our tradition, we have a great custom that is meant to powerfully remind us what kind of Messiah Jesus is and what it means to follow him: the sign of the Cross. Whenever we make the sign of the cross, we are meant to remind ourselves that Jesus was a Messiah who suffered and died for us. When we trace the sign of the cross over our body, we are meant to remind ourselves that as followers of Jesus we are called to deny ourselves, take up our cross and lay down our lives for others. The next time you make the sign of the cross, remind yourself what kind of Messiah Jesus was and therefore kind of life following him entails.

Why does Jesus speak Aramaic in the Gospel?


23 Sunday Ordinary Time, year B | Mark 7:31-37

One of my teachers was fond of telling us that when we study a text from Bible we need to imitate Sherlock Holmes by focusing on small details within the text. He often repeated this line of Sherlock Holmes to us: “it is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles”(1). My teacher’s point was that small details in the text - what we might consider mere trifles - are often highly significant. I would like to focus on one such trifle from the Gospel today (Mark 7:31-37), the word ephphatha spoken by Jesus when he heals the deaf man.
James Tissot [No restrictions or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
When we know the language that Jesus spoke, we learn something very important about his identity. All the Gospels were written in koine Greek. This was the common language used throughout the Roman empire at the time of Jesus. As Greek was the language of the Empire, it can rightly be described as the language of the rulers. Since the Holy Land was under Roman rule at the time of Christ, Greek was the language of those who exercised power over Jesus and the rest of the Jewish people. Greek, however, was not the mother tongue of Jesus. Although Jesus probably spoke Hebrew and perhaps some Greek, the main language that he spoke was Aramaic. If Greek was the language of the rulers in 1st century Palestine, Aramaic was the language of the ruled. In the Gospels, the words of Jesus are predominantly recorded in Greek, even though he spoke Aramaic. There are, however, some instances in which Jesus is depicted as speaking Aramaic. The Gospel today is one such example. The word ephphatha is an Aramaic word meaning “be opened”. That we should find this Aramaic word in a sea of Greek is an important trifle. Why would Mark record this Aramaic word of Jesus? Why not have Jesus always speaking in Greek? By having Jesus speak an Aramaic word in the Gospel today, Mark reminds us that Jesus spoke the language of the ruled rather than the rulers (2). This teaches us something very important about Jesus. Jesus did not come from among those who were powerful or exercised political force over others. Jesus was numbered among those who were dominated, often harshly, by others. He was one of the ruled and not the rulers.

The Gospel today shows us that God works his salvation through those who lack worldly authority and strength rather than those that society deems as powerful. In the Gospel, Jesus cures the deaf man in the region of the Decapolis. The Decapolis was a group of ten autonomous city-states that were dependent on Rome.  The language, culture and political status of these cities made them particularly associated with the Roman empire, the rulers of the land in which Jesus lived. For this reason, it is highly significant that Mark records Jesus as speaking Aramaic - the language of the ruled - while performing a miracle in this region. While accomplishing this work of salvation, Mark highlights that Jesus is one of the oppressed in the symbolic center of imperial authority. Throughout the Bible, we find this same pattern: God consistently brings salvation through the ruled rather than the rulers. In the Old Testament, God chose Israel to be his special possession through whom he would bring his salvation to the world (cf. Isa 49:6). In comparison to the nations that surrounded them, the people of Israel were not a dominating force. Before the time of Jesus, they were subjected by a long list of nations and empires: Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece and finally Rome. Israel, God’s chosen instrument of salvation for the world, was usually among the ruled rather than the rulers.  As was the case with Israel, in Jesus we see that God uses those considered powerless in the eyes of the world to accomplish his work of salvation.

The Church, therefore, is at its best and is most effective when it is with the powerless, poor, marginalized and oppressed. Consider this: what building or monument is considered to be the symbol of Catholicism in the world? I think that many people would consider St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome to be the visible symbol of the Catholic Church. Although this Basilica is beautiful and an important place of pilgrimage, it would be unfortunate if this were considered THE monument of the Church in society. This is because, to many, the Basilica and the Vatican State in which it is found communicates riches and worldly power. I would suggest that the buildings that far better represent what the Church is and should be are the numerous and often hidden buildings close to St. Peter’s in which acts of charity are performed. There are in fact numerous soup kitchens, hospices, dormitories and parishes around St. Peter’s in which the poor are cared for and the hopeless and those who mourn and lack direction hear the Good News of Jesus preached. Since God uses those who are powerless in the eyes of the world to bring salvation and healing to the world, the Church is at its best when it is close to those who are oppressed and suffering.

The small “trifle” of Jesus speaking Aramaic in the Gospel is significant. With it, Mark highlights that Jesus spoke the language of the ruled.  It shows us that God works his salvation through the powerless and oppressed. This small detail of language in the Gospel invites us to consider how our “language” as individual Catholics and as a parish are interpreted. What do our words and actions convey to those around us? Do people hear from us a desire for power and self-aggrandizement? Or, do they hear from us a message of love and concern for the weak and oppressed?


Footnotes:
1) The quote is from The Man with the Twisted Lip, Arthur Conan Doyle.
2) I first heard this explanation from another of my teachers, Fr. Craig Morrison.