Thursday, 28 January 2010

4th Sunday of Ordinary Time - Year C

Jeremiah 1:4-5.17-19; Corinthians 12:31-13:13; Luke 4:21-30

A prophet is a man with a dangerous mission. He is not called to singlehandedly rescue the beautiful princess from the tower, nor to save the world from the killer aliens. The mission of the prophet is far more dangerous because, even though his life will be at risk at every moment, he is not to take any weapons to defend himself.

The prophet is called to stand, unarmed, in the market place, in the church, on the radio or on the television and – speak the word of God.

Jeremiah was a prophet. He was called by God. This is the hallmark of every true prophet, that he is called and commissioned by God himself. You won’t find ‘prophet’ in the list of the government’s career choices for school leavers.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth I consecrated you; I have appointed you as prophet to the nations.

Before Jeremiah has time to draw one self-congratulatory breath God makes it clear this is not to be an all-expenses paid junket, like those so popular with some of our politicians. So now brace yourself for action. Stand up and tell them all I command you.

Jeremiah is to ‘brace himself for action’ – not only the action of standing up and speaking the word - but the action that will follow when he does so. No doubt our Federal Leader of the Opposition Tony Abbott would understand what I’m talking about.

Stand up and tell them all I command you. It’s the ‘standing up’ which is so often our first difficulty, to put our head above the crowd, to climb the stage of public scrutiny and there speak to a godless world a word which comes from God. Not many have the courage either to obey the command or to suffer the consequences. Thank God for his courageous prophets! Thank God for Tony Abbott!

Before moving on we need to be attentive to the force of that little word all which the Lord addresses to Jeremiah: Stand up and tell them all I command you.

After listening to a protestant Christian give a rather lengthy explanation of his faith a priest friend of mine replied, ‘What you say is the truth; there’s just not enough of it.’

How often have we listened to our religious leaders (of all persuasions) preaching the word of God and then, like a horse baulking at a jump, stop short of the very heart of the message so as not to give offence? To preach the message is one thing; to preach the whole message is entirely another.

The prophetic call is a summons to courage: Do not be dismayed at their presence, or in their presence I will make you dismayed. God will never require of us something for which he does not strengthen us. As the proverb goes: God’s Will will not take you where his grace cannot keep you.

Jeremiah is commanded to speak God’s word of truth to the nations. This word is everything God promises to make Jeremiah: a fortified city, a pillar of iron, and a wall of bronze… Jeremiah’s strength, and ultimately his very life, will depend on his faithfulness to the prophetic commission of speaking the invincible truth of God.

Although our reading does not include his response to God’s call it is fitting to remind ourselves that Jeremiah already had the necessary predispositions required of a prophet: Ah, Lord God; look, I do not know how to speak: I am a child! St Paul would have replied, ‘Yes, Jeremiah, you are only a child, but God’s grace is enough for you: his power is at its best in weakness' (c.f. 2Cor 12:9)

Nothing humbles the proud and mighty more than being overcome by weakness: They will fight against you but shall not overcome you. The seeds of defeat are already planted in the tireless efforts of the mighty to sweep away the truth and the prophets who preach it. No one can destroy truth and if they destroy the prophet it is only a ‘temporary’ setback. We must all die but not all will rise to eternal joy in the Master’s kingdom.

Our Master, too, came as a prophet and suffered the prophet’s fate, but with this difference – Jeremiah spoke the word - Jesus is the Word. This is the essence of the delightful ambiguity with which our first reading ends: It is the Lord who speaks.

Friday, 22 January 2010

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C


Nehemiah 8:2-6, 8-10; 1 Corinthians 12:12-30; Luke 1:1-4; 4:14-21

‘Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.’
(From Mending Wall by Robert Frost)
When Nehemiah heard that the walls of Jerusalem lay in ruin he was devastated: On hearing this I sank down and wept; for several days I mourned, fasting and praying before the God of heaven. (1:4)

Why would he do this? Why would he react so strongly?

Nehemiah was a just man, faithful to the Law and deeply conscious of himself as a member of God’s Chosen People. In the desecration and destruction of the walls he saw the sins of his people and was deeply ashamed. He fell down before the Lord and on behalf of the People he prayed: I confess the sins of the sons of Israel which we have committed against you: I and my father's House have sinned. We have acted very wickedly towards you: we have not kept the commandments, laws and customs you laid down for Moses your servant. (1:6-7)

For Nehemiah the integrity of the city of Jerusalem, and particularly the integrity of the walls and gates, was an image of the integrity of the People and, clearly, this was in tatters. Moreover, without the integrity that comes from obedience to the Law of Moses the people were no longer the People; they were without identity.

We could pause here and ask ourselves how we respond to the images of death, destruction and despair we see on our television screens so often today? What would a Tutsi or a Hutu make of the piles of corpses littering the Rwandan countryside? What would an Iraqi or Pakistani see in the mangled bodies strewn around the crater made by a suicide bomber? What do we see in the overflowing garbage bins of abortionists, if not men and women who have forsaken their God and put themselves in his place? This was the cruel sword which pierced Nehemiah’s heart two and a half thousand years ago and the desolation experienced today by every serious Catholic on seeing the offences, great and small, committed against the merciful God.

Nehemiah, and his compatriot Ezra, set about restoring Israel’s integrity and thus their identity. Nehemiah’s mission was that of rebuilding the city walls and gates, while Ezra’s mission was to move the People to recommit themselves to live the Law of Moses and to worship God according to the prescriptions of the Torah. In other words, they set about purifying lifestyles and restoring the liturgy. Ring any bells?

It should not surprise us that from the first moments of the decision to rebuild the walls there was opposition: When Sanballat heard that we were rebuilding the walls he flew into a rage, beside himself with anger. What a startlingly different reaction to that of Nehemiah on hearing of the plight of Holy City!

He ridiculed the Jews and in front of his kinsmen and the wealthy men of Samaria he exclaimed, 'What are these pathetic Jews trying to do?... Do they expect to finish in one day? Do they think they can put new life into these charred stones, salvaged from the heaps of rubble?' (3:33-34)

Nehemiah’s opponents, some of whom were Jews themselves(!), tried to stop him by every means at their disposal. Any bishop, priest or layperson who has resolved to restore some sense of the sacred to our noisy, horizontal liturgies will recognise the tactics. Sanballat begins with anger. This is often enough to frighten off the weak. Next comes public ridicule, which no one likes, and which often deters from standing up for what they know to be right those who love their popularity.

Ridicule is followed by personal insults (these pathetic Jews) and a questioning, not only of their ability to finish the task (Do they expect to finish in one day?) but of their very grasp on reality (Do they think they can put new life into these charred stones, salvaged from the heaps of rubble?)

We understand that Nehemiah saw, not charred stones and heaps of rubble, but bruised, demoralised and despairing men and women especially chosen by God to form a Chosen People. With the Lord there are no heaps of rubble; there are only souls waiting to be redeemed.

As the work neared completion opposition grew. Physical violence was planned but Nehemiah avoided falling into the traps set for him and finally the work was completed. God is always on the side of restoration.

Let us turn again to today’s First Reading: … all the people gathered as one man on the square before the Water Gate. They asked Ezra the scribe to bring the Book of the Law of Moses which Yahweh had prescribed for Israel. Ezra the priest brought the Law before the assembly, consisting of men, women, and children old enough to understand. This was the first day of the seventh month. On the square before the Water Gate, in the presence of the men and women, and children old enough to understand, he read from the book from early morning till noon; all the people listened attentively to the Book of the Law. …the people were all in tears as they listened to the words of the Law.

We have come back to our beginning - the weeping Nehemiah. But now it is not Nehemiah who weeps, it is the People. They have been restored and renewed and they cry - but their restorer bids them be joyful, as would one day the true Restorer cause us to cry out Alleluia!

Tuesday, 12 January 2010

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C

Isaiah 62:1-5; 1 Corinthians 12:4-11; John 2:1-11

The wedding celebration at Cana was for Jesus a turning point in his life. It started off seeming ordinary enough but suddenly a much deeper reality made itself clear to him in the voice of his Mother and his life was never the same again.

For me it was an ordinary holiday I took with a priest friend, and suddenly I was heading for the seminary, my whole life turned upside down. Has it happened to you? Where did you meet your wife? Your husband? Was it ordinary? And yet look how it affected your future.

It’s one of the uncanny aspects of existence that our future is often dependent on what seems mere chance; the direction of our lives is changed by a pebble or a cigarette butt; the path to our destiny begins in the most unexpectedly mundane places. What starts off as a chat in the kitchen can become the road to our destiny.

The marriage feast of Cana was for Jesus just such a commonplace event. A time to leave behind the busyness of everyday life and just relax for a bit; to enjoy the company of friends, to drink a glass of wine and join in one of the many conversations. Then the wine ran out.

Mary, always on the alert to the needs of others, notices the problem and says to her son: They have no wine.

Jesus picks up the double meaning. Do I hear you ask ‘What double meaning?’

Notice what has happened! The little wedding feast without wine suddenly becomes an image for something else, something much more. It’s as if Mary flung her arms out to the whole world and said - Son, they have no wine! Mary is now speaking not only about the wedding feast, she is speaking about poor drought-stricken humanity, the whole world: Son, they have no wine!

[We who have had the benefit of 2000 years of meditating on this episode may add our own complaint to Mary’s: And if we have no wine, Lord, how can we make Eucharist?]

In the Scriptures there are other examples of how an innocent statement suddenly punches through to another, broader, deeper level of meaning. Take little Isaac walking beside his father Abraham, carrying on his head the wood for the fire on which he will be sacrificed. He doesn’t yet know that God has asked his father to sacrifice his only son. And he asks: Father, where is the Lamb? Without realising it Isaac had asked the very question the whole cosmos was asking as it waited to be redeemed: Where is the Lamb? Where is the sacrifice that will take away the sins of the world?

We may well wonder if Jesus marvelled, as we do, at the wisdom of his Mother’s Spirit-filled words. Their profound simplicity completely disarmed him. Suddenly he was no longer the guest, he was the Bridegroom – and his beautiful Bride, the Church, stood before him, longing for the nuptial banquet with her Beloved to begin. For Jesus this could mean only one thing, the Passion.

Did the humanity of Jesus falter, as it did in the Garden of Gethsemane? My Father, he said, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. (Mt 26:39)

He answers his Mother: Woman why turn to me? My hour has not come yet.

Mary does not reply to her Son. She has not actually asked him for anything but left him free to respond as he wishes. There is a mystery here, a profoundly mystical moment, and deep within us we imagine we can hear Jesus speak the words: Nevertheless, let it be as you, not I, would have it.

The first great sign has come, the first epiphany of his public life in the Gospel according to John; there is now no turning back.

Mary tells the servants, that’s us, of course: Do whatever he tells you. A moment later there are six stone jars full of wine, each jar holding twenty or thirty gallons! It’s almost like Jesus exclaims ‘You want wine? I’ll give you wine!’

Three years later the wine would turn into blood, as it still does today on our altars, sufficient for all mankind.

Friday, 8 January 2010

The Baptism of the Lord - Year C


Isaiah 40:1-5.9-11; Titus 2:11-14, 3:4-7; Luke 3:15-16, 21-22

Most people don’t think about Baptism very deeply. This is manifested clearly at parish Baptism preparation sessions. When asked why they have brought the child for Baptism parents are caught unawares; this is already very telling. They become suddenly uncomfortable. Mum looks at dad, dad looks at his feet.
  • Well, my parents had me baptised and I went to a catholic school and I really enjoyed it and I want my child to have the same opportunity.
  • My grandmother is coming from Europe to visit us in August and she wants to be at the Baptism.
  • Every child should have some religion.
  • Well, doesn’t the child go to Hell if it’s not baptised?
It would be so interesting if one day I asked a group of parents why they brought their child for Baptism and they said:
  • Well, we find such joy in the Faith that we want the same for our child.
  • We are all born in Original Sin and we want God to restore our child to his friendship.
  • We want our child to be born again and made into a new person in Christ.
  • We want our child’s heart to be open to God’s grace. We want God’s Holy Spirit to live in our child.
I can tell you honestly, folks, if that were ever to happen you would see one astonished priest, probably weeping tears of joy.

Most young parents don’t think about Baptism very deeply because they don’t live their Catholic life very deeply. This is not an attack – this is a diagnosis!

A priest friend of mine in a large parish recently told me of a preparation session with fifteen couples: nine of them were either not married, or not married in the Church. This was for a variety of reasons. Three of the nine were Catholic but had simply decided not to get married; six couples were married in the Church and of these six, two were attending Sunday Mass faithfully.

This collapse in the connection between the Sacrament of Baptism and a lived Catholic life is almost universal in Australian society. It’s a horrible phenomenon! And we go on, year after year, baptising the children of parents who have already told us they have no intention at all of practising the Faith. It seems Baptism is now a kind of no-community-attached sacrament, and, therefore, parents have come to see it as a no-responsibility-attached sacrament. This is not as it should be.

The Church herself has something to say about all this, and don’t forget, the sacraments belong to the Church and they belong in the Church, like a fish belongs in water. This is why the Church will not normally allow Baptisms to be performed outside the church building.

The 1980 'Instruction on Infant Baptism' recognised the need for a renewal of our pastoral practices in regard to this sacrament and spoke of two principles.
  • Firstly, considered in itself the gift of Baptism to infants must not be delayed.
  • Secondly, the parents or a close relative must give assurances that the gift of Baptism can grow by an authentic education in the faith and Christian life, in order to fulfil the true meaning of the sacrament.

    But if these assurances are not really serious there can be grounds for delaying the sacrament; and if they are certainly non-existent the sacrament should even be refused.
Priests should be slow to delay or refuse a Baptism but they should not be unthinking in their pastoral practice. Too many of our parents are not really serious in their assurances that the gifts and blessings of Baptism can grow in their children. I often ask them: Are you ready to become the parents of a Catholic child? The fact is that most don't understand what this means and are in need of a thorough catechesis.

By baptising the child of any parent who asks, without making a serious discernment about the assurances given, we are denying those parents an important opportunity of making a renewed commitment to their own faith.

‘But aren’t you denying an innocent child?’ No. The child is not your or my responsibility. The child is the responsibility of the parents. If neither the parents nor a family member is willing to accept the duties of bringing the child up in the practice of the Faith then they are denying their child.

When couples are challenged about all this in the right way its remarkable how often they are ready to acknowledge they are not yet for real. They will accept further instruction and even invite the priest to their house to explain things more deeply and answer some questions.

Some couples become angry because they don’t want a Church that has ‘terms or conditions’, and they simply walk away. That is their choice. It may be that they will give the matter further thought and, one day, come back. All too often, unfortunately, they will shop around for a priest somewhere who offers less resistance.

We mustn’t underestimate parents; they are not stupid. Given the right explanations and sufficient time to digest the ‘unpleasant news’ they will often nod their heads and agree that the true meaning of the sacrament is not fulfilled if they bring their child into a Catholic Faith which they themselves refuse to practise. There are few joys compared to the joy of seeing such a couple come back to the practise of the Faith.