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.

What makes us defiled/unclean and causes division?

22 Sunday Ordinary Time, year B | Deut 4:1-2, 6-8; Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

We have all probably heard the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty. “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.” Humanity could perhaps be compared to Humpty Dumpty. It has fallen and broken into pieces. Our society and even our Church seems quite divided. This separation appears to be growing. Can we be put back together again?

By Denslow's_Humpty_Dumpty.djvu: W. W. Denslowderivative work: Theornamentalist [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

At the core of the Gospel (from Mark 7), is the following question: what separates a person or group of people from God and the rest of the community? In other words, what break us apart and creates division? The answer hinges upon the important - but complicated - concepts clean/unclean and pure/defiled (for an overview, see Fr. Neyrey, SJ). Put simply, if you were considered unclean or defiled, then you were considered unfit to worship God and were separated from the community. If, on the other hand, you were deemed clean or pure, then you would be deemed fit to worship God and be a part of the community. Although there are numerous reasons why you could be considered defiled, two are especially important for the Gospel. First, you would be considered unclean if you violated one of the numerous dietary laws (cf. Lev 11) - what can and cannot be eaten - that were given by God through Moses. As the first reading from Deuteronomy makes clear, observing God’s laws is imperative. Second, some argued that if you violated one of the Traditions of the Elders, then you were unclean. The Tradition of the Elders were a collection of detailed laws of human origin (i.e. not found in the Law of Moses). The Gospel mentions some of the Traditions of the Elders that were held in great importance by the scribes and Pharisees, for example, the washing of hands before a meal and the purification of cups and other utensils. The Pharisees accused the disciples of violating the Tradition of the Elders, thereby making themselves unclean, which would have made them unfit to worship God and separated them from the community.

Jesus’ teaching about what makes someone clean/unclean reveals something very important about how he understood his identity. There is a certain argument out there that goes as follows (e.g. see here). Jesus never claimed to be God. He saw himself as a prophet or teacher. Sure, there are some texts in which Jesus claims Divinity (e.g. Jn 8:58), but these are late texts and reflect more the beliefs of later followers of Jesus rather than Jesus himself. Today’s Gospel, taken from Mark, which is generally considered to be the oldest of the Gospels, argues against this. Jesus’ actions manifest his self understanding. First, Jesus saw himself as a teacher who had the authority to challenge the validity of the Tradition of the Elders. Elsewhere in Mark 7, Jesus shows how following the Tradition of the Elders can lead people to transgress the commandments of God (Mk 7:9-13). Jesus, however, goes further than this. Jesus says, “nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile.” Since this goes against the dietary laws that were passed down from God through Moses, here Jesus is claiming the authority to revise the law of God. Although in Mark’s Gospel (unlike in John’s) Jesus never explicitly says he is the one God of Israel, we have here a clear example of how Jesus’ actions show that he understood he was the very embodiment of God’s presence walking the earth. God’s law can only be changed by God himself.

Jesus, the very embodiment of God, teaches us that we become unclean/defiled and therefore separated from God and others on account of malicious thoughts, words and actions that originate within ourselves and are directed towards others. We are not separated from God and others on account of what we eat, or on account of some “human tradition”. Rather, it is what comes from within, our hateful thoughts, words and actions that make us unclean/defiled. This is what creates divisions between us and God and within the community. This is an important message because we can all consider individuals to be separated from God or the community on account of some “human tradition”. We have replaced the Pharisees’ concern for the washing of cups, jugs and kettles with other preoccupations. We can consider people “defiled” on account of the political party they ascribe to, the news they watch, the country they are from (or, more specifically, the part of a country or even city they are from), the school they went to, the job they have or even the sports team they support. Within the Church we create division between ourselves and others because they are too conservative or too liberal, too traditional or too progressive or because they are or are not part of a particular group or movement. In the Gospel, Jesus invites us focus on what truly causes division: cruel thoughts, words and actions that we direct towards others.

An important principle follows from Jesus teaching. If malicious thoughts, words and actions create division, then it follows that loving thoughts, words and deeds create unity. “All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again”. Jesus, who we have seen in the Gospel is God, can put us back together. He has shown us both what breaks us apart and divides us, as well as how we can work to put together the broken pieces of humanity. Unity or division begins within the heart of each on of us and is furthered by our words and actions. Today we can ask ourselves whether we will add to the division in the world, or help build unity.

How should we deal with doubt?

21st Sunday Ordinary Time, year B | John 6:60-69

Some year ago, I had an experience in confession that was very important for me. I was in university at the time and experiencing doubts when it came to religion. Was Jesus really who he said he was? Was the Catholic Church really founded by Jesus? Are the teachings of the Church right? While waiting to go to confession, I was looking through an examination of conscience that was sitting in the Church. What I read seems to suggest that doubting in God was a sin. This surprised me so I brought it up with the priest in confession. Was I sinning by having doubts? What the priest said to me in response was very helpful. He said that having doubts is normal, it is not a sin. What is important is what we do when we experience doubts. Do we keep searching, seeking to understand? Or, do we just give up?

Elihu Vedder [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

In the Gospel today (John 6:60-69), many of Jesus’ disciples let their doubt overcome them and leave Christ. This passage is found at the end of Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse. In this, Jesus has explained to people that he is the Bread of Life both because his teaching nourishes and gives life and because he gives himself to us in the Eucharist. If we eat Jesus, the Bread of Life, both in the Eucharist and by following his teaching, we will have eternal life. Jesus will raise us up after we die. For many who heard Jesus, this teaching was beyond belief. “This saying is hard; who can accept it.” Many, in fact, could not accept Jesus’ teaching and were overcome by their doubts. As a result, “many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him”.

When we experience doubts about God or the Church, it is very helpful and necessary to focus our attention - our heart and thoughts - squarely on Jesus. After many of his disciples leave him, Jesus says to the twelve, “do you also want to leave?” To this, Peter responds, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.” Do Peter’s words indicate that he was not experiencing doubts like the others? It seems that Peter too doubted. Peter’s response, however, shows he has experienced something incredibly powerful by living close to Jesus and hearing his words. He had experienced life and holiness. Perhaps he struggled to accept all that Jesus had said. At the same time, nothing else mattered except staying close to Jesus. To whom else would he turn? Peter is an example for us when we have doubts. Perhaps we struggle with accepting some teaching, whether it be on the Eucharist or some moral issue. Or, with all the revelations that have arisen recently abuse the terrible crimes and cover-ups committed by leaders in the Church, it is only natural to have doubts. Can this really be the Church that Jesus founded? Or, maybe in the midst of suffering, whether it be with your health or in a relationship, you struggle to see how God is with you. Where is Jesus when I am in this pain? These doubts can be unnerving. To get through them, we, like Peter, need to focus on Jesus. We need to remind ourselves of the life and goodness we have experienced by following Jesus. He will strengthen us and show us the way forward. To whom else will we turn if not to Jesus?

In order to stay close to Jesus during times of doubt, we need to stay in close contact with his words. Remember that Peter said “to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life”. Although we can hear the words of Jesus in various ways, an indispensible way is by reading the Gospels. There we encounter Jesus and hear his words. These words give encouragement, direction, and strength. At times of doubt and struggle, therefore, it is important to read the Gospels. Now, it is true that we hear the Gospel each time we come to Mass. There is, however, a difference when we sit down and read an entire Gospel, or a large chunk of it. When we do this, we get a more real, complex and compelling picture of who Jesus is and what he said. Reading a Gospel takes less time than we think. For example, the Gospel of Mark takes less than an hour and a half to read. This is about the same amount of time that, according to one study, the average person spends a day watching Netflix. If we don’t like to read, it is easier than ever to listen to the Gospels, whether it be in a podcast or audiobook. It is even possible to buy a recording of a famous person, like Johnny Cash, for example, reading the Gospel. We can listen to a Gospel, or large part of one, on our commute or when we are out for a walk.

Having doubts about God, the Church or certain teachings is a normal part of our lives. What is important is what we do with these doubts. When we experience doubt, let us, like Peter, focus our attention on Jesus.  “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life”. He will encourage us and show us the way forward. What will you do to make sure that you will hear the life-giving words of Jesus in the Gospel?

Is the Eucharist just a myth like the fountain of youth?

20th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year B | John 6:51-58

You have probably heard the myth about the fountain of youth. It has been told in various forms for over two and a half thousands years. The myth relates that somewhere in the world there exists a special fountain. Anyone who bathes in this fountain, the story goes, will be restored to their youth. As a result, anyone with access to this fountain would never die. In short, the fountain of youth could rightly be called a cure for death. It is a guarantee of immortality.

The Fountain of Youth, Lucas Cranach (1546) [source]

In Jewish tradition, there was an ancient expectation that one day there would be a remedy for death. We all probably remember what happened to Adam and Eve after they gave in to the serpent’s temptation and ate the fruit that God forbade them to eat. One of the results of their sin was that they were expelled from Eden and no longer had access to the tree of life (Gen 3:24). As a result of their sin, they and their descendants would die. Before Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden, God told the serpent that there will be an ongoing conflict the serpent's offspring and the descendants of Eve. God said that the woman’s descendants would strike at the head of the serpent and that the serpent's offspring would strike at their heal (Gen 3:15). In some ancient Jewish texts (e.g. Targum Jonathan and Targum Neofiti, Aramaic translations/paraphrases of the Bible), we find an insertion after this line, which expresses a particular interpretation of this passage of scripture. These texts expand God’s speech to the serpent. After stating that the descendants of the woman and the serpent would be caught in a battle, harming one another, God says that for the woman’s descendants there would be a “cure”, whereas for the snake's offspring there would be no “cure”. This cure was to come in the days of the messiah. It seems, therefore that the author of these texts expected that there would, at the time of the messiah, come a cure for the effects of sin and temptation. In other words, there would be a remedy for death, the terrible consequence of sin.

In the Gospel today (John 6:51-58), Jesus presents himself as the cure for death. Jesus, the Messiah, says to the people, “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day”. Here, the flesh and blood that we are invited to eat and drink is the Eucharist, which is Jesus himself. For this reason, Ignatius of Antioch (died 107) called the Eucharist the “medicine of immortality”. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life. Since Jesus destroys sin, he has conquered death (cf. 1 Cor 15:55-57). Therefore, the Eucharist, which is the very flesh and blood of Jesus, is the cure for death.

It takes faith to believe that Jesus is the medicine of immortality. Even though we receive the Eucharist, we will still eventually die. How can we believe Jesus’ promise that he will raise us up on the last day? What prevents us from thinking that what Jesus offers is no better than the mythical fountain of youth? To my mind, there is only one answer: faith in the resurrection of Jesus. If we believe that Jesus rose from the dead, then we can believe that he will be true to his word and raise us up as well. Speaking personally, believing in the resurrection can be a difficult thing. Sometimes it is extremely difficult. Yet, I continue to believe. I believe because of the testimony of the apostles who claimed to witness the risen Jesus. Peter and the others - who were so afraid when Jesus was crucified that they all fled - gave their lives for the message that Jesus rose from the dead. I believe because of the holiness of the saints. Recently, with the revelations of terrible sexual abuse and coverup within the Church, we have seen once again that some people who call themselves Christians have committed horrendous crimes. Yet, there are still Christians who have lived and continue to live lives of extraordinary service and love. These saints (whether they be the famous ones or those who live their lives in obscurity) give me hope. They fill me with faith that the Risen Christ lives in them. I believe because I have experienced some small part of the life Jesus comes to bring. I have experienced his forgiveness and love. I have been inspired by his words I read in the Gospel. Believing in the resurrection of Jesus is not easy, but there are reasons to believe. If we have faith in the resurrection, then we can believe in Jesus’ words that if we eat his flesh and drink his blood we will live forever.

At every Mass, we have the opportunity to reaffirm our faith that Jesus, truly present in the Eucharist, is the medicine of immortality, the cure for death. When we receive the Eucharist, we say “amen”, a word that means “I believe” or “I trust”. What do we believe? Who do we trust? Let us think about what we are saying. When we say “amen”, let us make it an act of trust in Jesus, showing that we believe his words: “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day”.

How we reject God's help

19th Sunday Ordinary Time, year B | 1 Kings 19:4-8; Jn 6:41-51

I find it difficult to ask for and accept the help of others. For example, I hate asking for directions. Lucky for me, with GPS I no longer need to do this when I drive. There are still situations where I should to ask for directions, like when I am in the grocery store looking for something on the shelves and cannot find it. Still, I hate asking for help. I would rather walk around trying to find the thing for ten minutes than stopping for 30 seconds to ask an attendant. Sometimes, after not finding what I was looking for, I have simply left the store without it instead of getting help. This, I know, is foolish. Assistance is always available. I just need to ask.

Elijah fed by an Angel, Ferdinand Bol [source]

In different ways, we all find ourselves in difficult situations where we need help. Here I am thinking of circumstances far more serious than not being able to find a particular soup in the grocery store! In the first reading we find the prophet Elijah in dire straights. God had sent Elijah on a mission to call Ahab, an evil king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel (see 1 Kings 16:29-33), to conversion. In response, Ahab threatened to kill Elijah (1 Kings 19:1-2), forcing Elijah to flee for his life. In the first reading, Elijah is at the point of giving up, having lost all hope that he would live, let alone complete his mission. “Enough!”, Elijah cried out to God, “now, O Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!” (1 Kings 19:4). Do you now find yourself in a difficult situation? Although our circumstances are perhaps not as severe as Elijah, we all encounter hard times in which we need help and feel like giving up: seemingly impossible challenges in relationships (marriage, friendship, etc.); unemployment; struggles with addiction; or disillusionment with those in positions of (maybe even with the Church).

When we find ourselves in the the midst of such struggles, sometimes we do not accept the help that God offers. “Who would do something so counterproductive like refusing God’s assistance?” you might be asking. The people in the Gospel are one example (John 6:41-51). Jesus is trying to explain to them that he will give them life. He is the bread from heaven that will nourish them on their journey through life, just as the people of Israel were nourished by manna during their years of wandering in the wilderness. Unlike Elijah, who accepted the nourishment God gave him, the people reject Jesus. They complain and make excuses rather than accepting the help he offers. For many of the struggles we encounter in life, like those serious situations mentioned above, we need to ask other people for help (doctors, counsellors, etc.). At the same time, we need God’s help too. God is always there, ready to give important assistance in our difficulties. He can provide peace, hope and a sense of direction. God wants to help. Sometimes we do not give Him the chance.

One way we prevent God from assisting us is by not spending time with Him in silence. Mother Teresa was found of repeating, “in the silence of the heart God speaks”. If we do not find opportunities for silence, then we will have a hard time hearing the voice of God that consoles and directs us. Elijah sought out God in solitude and silence. He cried out to him in the midst of his anguish and God gave him the strength to continue. Finding times to be alone in silence with God is not easy. We live in a noisy, busy world. We have to fight to carve out silence in our lives. Mother Teresa lived a very active life, often in loud and chaotic urban environments. Because she knew she needed God’s help, she sought him out early each morning in a time of silent prayer. We need to be intentional, and perhaps a bit creative, in finding moments to be alone with God. Maybe when we are driving to work we could turn off the radio and let the car become a place of silence. After we wake up in the morning we could perhaps spend the first couple minutes asking God for help in our day. When we have a few extra minutes of time, like when we are waiting for the bus or have some lull in our day, instead of reaching to look at our cell and check social media or the news we could turn our thoughts to God who is always present with us. In the silence of the heart God speaks. If we have no silence in our life, we may miss what God says to us. In this way, we don’t let him help us.

Just as it is self-defeating (and even a bit foolish!) for me to leave a grocery store without an item rather than asking someone for help, we harm ourselves when we don’t let God help us. Living in such a noisy world, this is only too easy do. The good news, however, is that God always wants to assist us when we encounter difficulties. Let us allow him to help us! What is one way that you can find time to be alone with God in silence each day?

Misunderstanding Signs

Year B, 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time | John 6:24-35

Think of an engagement ring. What is better, the ring, or what that ring symbolizes? Certainly, the physical ring is good, but we would all probably agree that what the ring symbolizes is better. The most important thing is that an engagement ring is sign of the love and commitment of the couple. That said, it is easy focus on the good thing rather than on the better thing. In today’s Gospel (John 6:24-35), we find Jesus correcting people for focusing on the externals of a sign - the good thing - rather than what the sign represents - the better thing. It is as though they want the engagement ring and not what the ring symbolizes!

Jesus Teaches the People by the Sea, J. Tissot [public domain, Wikimedia Commons]

The concept of “sign” is of fundamental importance in the Gospel of John. A sign is some miraculous action of Jesus that reveals a heavenly truth Jesus has come to transmit. While the miraculous action is something good, the divine truth is something better(1). The importance of signs is evident in the very structure of the Gospel as it can be divided into two parts: the Book of Signs (1:19 to 12:50) and the Book of Glory (13:1 to 20:31). In the Book of Signs, we find seven miraculous actions of Jesus. In the Book of Glory, we find the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, an event which, in its totality, is often viewed as the eight sign in the Gospel. In the Book of Signs, each sign follows a familiar pattern. The sixth chapter of John, from which today’s Gospel is taken, describes one such sign and follows the characteristic pattern neatly. First, Jesus works a miraculous action. This is the external, visible, aspect of the sign. It is something good. We heard about this last Sunday when Jesus multiplied loaves and fish and fed a multitude (John 6:1-15). Next, the people for whom Jesus worked the sign fail to understand its significance. They focus on the physical aspect of what Jesus has done only. This misunderstanding then gives Jesus the opportunity to enter into dialogue with the people and explain the significance of the sign that he has worked. Invariably, he tries to convince the people that what the sign represents is something better than the miraculous action he has worked.

In today’s Gospel, we find that the people have misunderstood the sign that Jesus performed and search after what is good while ignoring what is better. Going back to our previous analogy, the people want the engagement ring and not what the ring symbolizes. After Jesus feeds the people and departs, they go in search of him. When he is ultimately found in Capernaum, Jesus chastises the people for their lack of understanding. They followed him because they want more bread. They fail to grasp the divine truth the sign represents. We should not be too hard on the people in the Gospel. The physical bread that people want is something good. Since for many of us bread is a simple and easily available food, it is easy to lose sight of this fact.  An experience a few years ago helped me understand the importance of bread at the time of Jesus. At the time, I was spending a couple of months studying modern Hebrew in Jerusalem in a class of mostly Arab students, both Christian and Muslim. At the end of the program, we had a party and everyone brought in some food. One of my classmates, a young Muslim woman, brought flatbread that was freshly baked. It was warm and delicious! After we tried some of the bread, she proudly showed pictures of how the bread was made. Her mother had woken up at about 4 am to prepare and cook the bread over a charcoal fire. The class was struck by the act of the kindness the student’s mother had done for us. Her gift helps me understand the the action of the people in the Gospel. Bread took some work to make, even when the basic ingredients were on hand. If someone were to provide you with an abundance of bread, you would realize that they cared for you. It is only natural that they would come back to Jesus for more bread!

The bread!

Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the people, while a good thing, symbolizes a divine truth that is more important. In the Gospel, Jesus seizes upon the misunderstanding of the people and tries to convince them that the sign of the multiplication of the loaves represents something better: Jesus himself is the bread of life. Later in this chapter, Jesus will explain to the people two ways in which he is the bread of life. First, Jesus is the bread of life because his teaching nourishes and gives life like bread (6:35-50). Second, Jesus is the bread of life in the Eucharist, which is the very gift of himself (6:51-58). In today’s Gospel, Jesus tries to convince the people the people to come to him not because he can give them physical bread whenever they want, but because he is the bread of life. Going back to our analogy, this great truth is what the engagement ring symbolizes. It is the better thing.

The Gospel challenges us to come to Mass for the right reasons. This is because at every Mass, we receive Jesus the bread of life both in his teachings we hear in the readings and in the Eucharist. This is the better thing. Like the people in the Gospel that only want physical bread from Jesus, we can come to Mass for the lesser reasons and motivations, looking for something other than the bread of life. We can come because we feel obligated or because we like seeing certain people or simply out of a sense of habit. Although many of our reasons for coming to Mass are good and even though it is preferable to come to Mass for ambiguous motivations than not at all, if we come for the the better reason, namely, to receive Jesus the bread of life, we will probably get more out of Mass. Purifying our motivations for coming to Mass has the added benefit that it helps us put external and secondary things in their proper perspective. There is no Mass at any Church in the world that is done perfectly and according to everyone’s taste. We will always find something that makes the experience of the Mass less than optimal. Maybe the Church is too hot or someone beside us is singing out of tune or perhaps the music, liturgical style and preaching is not to our liking. When we get distracted by these considerations, it can be helpful to remind ourselves why we come to Mass. We are here to receive Jesus the bread of life in his word and in the Eucharist. It might be helpful to do some simple things to reenforce in ourselves a proper motivation for coming to Mass. For example, we could take a look at the readings of Mass before coming. We could try to pay especially close attention to the words and actions of the Mass or participate more in the singing and responses. Or, maybe we could say a simple prayer before Mass starts: “Jesus, I have come here for you”.

Just as the people in the Gospel are corrected by Jesus for focusing on the good, but external aspects of a sign (bread) rather than the better, divine truth it represented (Jesus is the bread of life), the Gospel today challenges us to ensure we come to Mass for the right reasons. Going back to our analogy, today is a chance to evaluate whether we we are focused on the engagement ring or what it represents. We would do well to ask ourselves two simply questions. Why are you here at Mass now now? What can you do to make sure the reason you come is to receive Jesus the bread of life in the word and sacrament?

Footnote:

1) For further discussion, see Brown, Raymond. An Introduction to the Gospel of John (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 80-81.

Jesus is the GOAT

Year B, 17th Sunday Ordinary Time | 2 Kings 4:42-44, John 6:1-15

Although I don’t follow much sports news or discussion, there is a term from this world that I find interesting: “goat”. Goat, spelt just like the animal, is an acronym that stands for the “greatest of all time”. In different sports, fans and commentators argue that a particular athlete is the “goat”. In basketball, some content that LeBron James is the goat. Who should be deemed the greatest of all time in a given sport is hotly debated. What is constant in these debates, however, is that whenever an athlete of extraordinary ability arises, people try to assess his or her talents by comparing the athlete to past stars. For example, LeBron James is compared to Michael Jordan. Some argue that the former is the goat, while other hold it is the latter. Early Christians followed a similar strategy. In trying to explain the life and mission of Jesus, they often compared and contrasted him to famous religious figures of the past.

Inside the Church of the Multiplication (Tabgha, Israel), which marks the place of the miracle described in the Gospel. Note the mosaic of the loaves and fish in front of the altar.

In the Gospels, Jesus is regularly likened to great historical leaders of Israel. In an attempt to describe his extraordinary life and mission, authors often compared Jesus to individuals with whom their audience were familiar. This method of comparison is often described as “typology”1. A kind of typology happens in sports. Remarkable athletes are compared to historic greats we can call “types”. This is only natural as current exceptional athletes share similar talents and skills with past stars. The same process happens in other fields. For example, we might say that because of her powers of deduction and reason, a certain journalist is like a new Sherlock Holmes (the type). Likewise, for the Gospel writers, comparing Jesus to other individuals must have come naturally since Jesus behaved in a way similar to religious figures from Israel’s past. At the same time, Gospel writers inserted certain clues or markers that made the comparison of Jesus with past religious figures more explicit. Unless we are familiar with the Old Testament, many of these typological cues pass by us unnoticed. Typological comparisons are quite common in the Gospels and help us better understand who Jesus is.

This Sunday’s Gospel, taken from John, in which Jesus performs a miracle and feeds the multitude (John 6:1-15), is an important example of typology. To help the reader better understand the person of Jesus and the significance of his actions, the Gospel draws out comparisons between Jesus and religious figures from Israel’s past. The Church gives us a hint at one such comparison with the choice of the First Reading (2 Kings 4:42-44). In the Gospel, Jesus is likely being compared to Elisha as both multiply barley loaves to feed a crowd. This comparison should provoke the reader to consider other ways in which Jesus is similar to Elisha. As a result, readers who know something about Elisha will get to know Jesus better. For example, both Elisha and Jesus are successors to other great figures (Elisha to Elijah and Jesus to John the Baptist). Both Elisha and Jesus are greater than their successors. Both are itinerant prophets who works miracles and have disciples. Both are single and acknowledged to be righteous. Another figure to whom Jesus is compared to in the Gospel is Moses (next Sunday’s readings make the connection explicit). A few clues point to this comparison. Just as Moses would often ascend a mountain to encounter God, at the start of today’s Gospel, Jesus went up the mountain. After the miracle, the people speculate that Jesus is truly “the prophet, the one who is to come into the world” (Jn 6:14). In this, the crowd is expressing the expectation that God would eventually send into the world a prophet who was like Moses (cf. Deuteronomy 18:15). Jesus' miracle happens at Passover, a feast associated with Moses. Like Moses fed the people with the gift of manna (via God’s intervention), in the Gospel, Jesus feeds the people with bread. This connection is made more explicit later in the chapter (Jn 6:30-32). Further, right after the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, Jesus walks on the Sea of Galilee, an event which is reminiscent of the miraculous passage of the people of Israel through the Red Sea. The Gospel today clearly suggests to the reader that Jesus is a new Moses. Jesus brings a new law and works a New Exodus from sin and death. Assuming we catch the clues in the Gospel, the typological comparisons of Jesus to Elisha and Moses help us better understand who Jesus is and what he does for us.

For us Christians, the typology in which Jesus is compared to past religious figures is unlike typologies from sports and other fields in important ways. First, Christian typology is not just about making a comparison, like saying that some athlete has skills that are like those of a past star. Rather, it helps us describe the plan of God throughout history. For us, types in the Old Testament like Elisha and Moses, although of immense and lasting value in God’s plan, prefigure or prepare for Jesus. Who these figures were and what they accomplished is fulfilled in the life and mission of Jesus. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it, “typology indicates the dynamic movement toward the fulfillment of the divine plan when ‘God [will] be everything to everyone’” (CCC 130). Second, although Jesus is compared to various past religious figures, the Gospels make is clear Jesus cannot be adequately described by these types. The Gospel of today hints at this reality. Jesus is a prophet like Elisha but he is so much more. While Elisha fed 100 with 20 barley loaves, Jesus fed over 5000 with only 5 loaves. Jesus is a leader like Moses, but he is so much more. After the people recognize Jesus is a prophet, he withdraws because he knew they were going to make him a king. It does not seem that Jesus is rejecting the title of king. Rather, he withdraws because he does not want to be the kind of king that people expect. In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ brand of kingship is only made manifest on Golgotha. Jesus is a king who suffers and dies for his people. His crown is of thorns; his throne is the cross.

Through the use of typology, the Gospels convey the exceptional nature of Jesus. Unlike typological comparisons in sports, however, in which the identity of the “goat” is up for debate, among Christians there was no argument. Through its use of typology, today’s Gospel challenges us to hold the following truths close to our hearts: 1) Although Jesus is like figures from the past (Moses and Elijah), all comparisons come up short. 2) In God’s plan, Jesus fulfills all the types to which he is compared. 3) Jesus is truly the greatest of all time.

Footnote:

1 For a concise summary of the use of typology in the New Testament, see “Typology” in The Oxford Companion to the Bible, 783-784.

Jesus came to tear down walls

Year B, 16th Sunday OT | Ephesians 2:13-18

During the past US elections, a certain slogan became popular. It was often chanted during political rallies and met with cheers. The slogan is this: “Build a wall! Build a wall!” Although the particular wall in question was to be located between the United States and Mexico, the desire to build walls in general is ingrained within us. We appear to be very good at walling-off others from us, whether it be in the literal or metaphorical sense.

In the Church too there is a tendency to build walls between individuals and groups. Although we rarely state it aloud, we can separate others from us, thinking that they are somehow “less Catholic” than us, or not quite as worthy to be in the Church. We may wall-off people in the Church because they don’t think like us. Maybe they have different political views. Perhaps they have different tastes in Church music or liturgy. Another reason we may create a wall to divide others from us is because they are not part of the right group. In the Church, we are blessed to have so many communities and movements that contribute greatly to the life and mission of the Catholic Church. Unfortunately, however, people can separate themselves from those who participate in groups they do not like, often viewing them with suspicion. In addition, those who are members of groups can at times divide themselves from others in the Church who are not part of their particular community. Finally, we may create walls and divide ourselves from others because we perceive that they have wronged us. Perhaps this is the most common reason for building walls in the Church. Unfortunately, we are all too good at creating divisions in the Church.

Through his life, death and resurrection, Jesus tore down the walls that divide his followers. In the second reading today, we heard a wonderful passage from the Letter to the Ephesians (2:3-18). This letter was written to a community in which there existed some significant divisions. It is likely that part of the division was between followers of Jesus who came from a Jewish background and followers of Jesus who came from a Gentile, or non-Jewish, background. The main message of the passage is that neither group should consider itself superior or separated from the other. The two groups, which were divided before the coming of Christ, have now become one. Both are God’s beloved children and are part of the same family. The letter vividly describes the end of separation between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus when it explains that Jesus “has broke down the dividing wall of enmity”. Although there is some debate as to what specific wall the letter has in mind, it is likely that the wall in question referred to the dividing barrier that was in the Temple. When the Temple in Jerusalem was in operation, there was a barrier that separated the Court of the Gentile from the inner courts. Although all could visit the former location, only Jews could pass further than the barrier. Therefore, many were excluded from the holiest places of the Temple, where God was thought to be most present. In an an archaeological dig, an inscription from the temple barrier was found. It reads  as follows: “No man of another race is to enter within the fence and enclosure around the Temple. Whoever is caught will have only himself to thank for the death which follows”. For those early Christians who were aware of the barrier within the Temple, the message of the Letter to the Ephesians would have been especially strong. Because of Jesus, now all had equal access to God. In Christ, all are to be united.

Jerusalem Temple Warning Inscription (source)

Because Jesus came to destroy walls that separate his followers, we should actively work to overcome divisions in the Church. It is only too easy to separate ourselves from those who have hurt us and those who think differently than us. St. Ignatius of Loyola gives some helpful advice for maintaining unity among Christians. This saint experienced first hand what it was like to be walled-off from the rest of the Church community. When he was beginning his community, his work was met with suspicion and even outright hostility. Over time, however, his teaching was enthusiastically accepted by the Church. In his Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius gives a powerful principle that can help us maintain unity with our fellow Church members. Namely, we should assume the best possible intent in other people. For example, if someone treats us in a way we think is unfair, instead of assuming that they are motivated by malice towards us, we can assume that we have perhaps misunderstood them, or that they are simply having a bad day. If our fellow Christians behave in a way we find puzzling or think differently than us, rather than immediately thinking they are misguided, we should try to assume that they are motivated by love of the Church. When we are tempted to wall-off and separate ourselves from some individual or group in the Church, our first step should be to always assume that they are motivated by the best intentions rather than the worst. By assuming the worst, we quickly build walls in the Church and cause division. By assuming the best, unity is maintained.

Who is some individual or group in the Church that you have difficulty accepting or getting along with? Today, try assuming that their actions are motivated by the best possible intentions. Jesus’ mission included tearing down the walls that divide us. Let us make sure that we never work against him and build up new walls within the Church.