The price of true freedom

'Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.’ (Matthew 16:24)

 

 (Year A: The Twelfth Sunday after Trinity, 30^th August, 2020)

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

Jeremiah 15:15-21

Psalm 26:1-8

Romans 12:9-21

Matthew 16:21-28

 (see, also, Mark 8:31-9.1; Luke 9.21-9.27; and John 12:25-26)

There is a small irony in this Sunday’s reading. Last Sunday, we heard about the ‘conferring of the keys’ on Peter the rock of the Church. This Sunday, directly following on from that discourse, we hear about Peter being called a  ‘stumbling block’ (a skandalon in Greek, ironically, because he was already named by Jesus as Petros or ‘rock’).

Jesus did not mince his words when he said to Peter: ‘Get behind me, Satan’.  Of course, later on in the Gospels, we learn that Peter would betray the Lord three times and that, following this, he would be forgiven and strengthened by the Lord. 

Like Peter, we can also be stumbling blocks for others on life’s journey. By our attitude, assumptions and ways of thinking we can become, not instruments of peace, healing and unity, but instruments of discord, harm and animosity. 

Being a stumbling block is one thing. Failing to recognise it and do something about it is quite another matter.  We can be stumbling blocks by our attachment to self or others while ignoring the demands of love and inclusion.  Many are those deterred, scandalised and alienated because the light of Christ seems absent in our lives by virtue of our words, actions and ways of living. 

To follow Jesus in the 21^st century calls for radical rethinking. We must remaine anchored to scripture and, indeed, to tradition where tradition is necessary and still relevant. However, the call to unity in a diverse and often divided world is a call to embrace the freedom of the cross in the place where we have been planted. We may feel like crying out with the prophet Jeremiah, in the first reading: ‘Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?’ (15:18). It seems as if there is no answer from heaven.  We can only cling on in faith trusting in God’s help as we read in Jeremiah 15:18: ‘..they will fight against you, but they shall not prevail over you, for I am with you to save you and deliver you (v. 20)

There are presentations of spirituality and indeed Christianity that sanitises the larger story into one of two ‘heresies’:

• The road to heaven is all blood, sweat and tears – the more suffering the better this side of death (the resurrection barely gets a mention if at all).
• The road to heaven is all sweetness and light where souls peacefully and gracefully move along to the final destination with the minimum of discomfort and challenge.

In a way both ‘heresies’ are two sides of the same coin. They effectively deny the death-resurrection of Jesus as something life-changing and world-changing both then and now. There is a failure to see the larger picture and draw the necessary conclusions. To carry our cross, daily, is to really share in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is what 21^st century Christian discipleship calls for – nothing more or nothing less.

Self-denial in the taking up of our crosses is not about running from the world or our responsibility for change. Neither is it a denial of our very own humanity with all its complexity, fragility and need. It is about being open to our real selves re-discovered in a new relationship.  Such is the price of freedom and in denying ourselves, taking up our cross and following Jesus wherever he leads us is the royal road to true human freedom and fulfilment.

This passage of the gospel is well reflected in the words of a great Christian mystic, theologian and martyr of the last century, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), shortly before his execution by the Nazi regime in 1945 composed a poem entitled, ‘Stations on the Road to Freedom’.  Here it is in English:

Discipline
If you set out to seek freedom, then learn above all things to govern your soul and your senses, 
for fear that your passions and longings may lead you away from the path you should follow.
Chaste be your mind and your body, and both in subjection, obediently, steadfastly seeking the aim set before them; 
only through discipline may a man learn to be free.

Action
Daring to do what is right, not what fancy may tell you,
valiantly grasping occasions, not cravenly doubting –
freedom comes only through deeds, not through thoughts taking wing.
Faint not nor fear, but go out to the storm and the action, 
trusting in God whose commandment you faithfully follow; 
freedom, exultant, will welcome your spirit with joy.

Suffering
A change has come indeed. 
Your hands, so strong and active, are bound; in helplessness now you see your action is ended; 
you sigh in relief, your cause committing to stronger hands; so now you may rest contented.
Only for one blissful moment could you draw near to touch freedom; 
then, that it might be perfected in glory, you gave it to God.

Death
Come now, thou greatest of feasts on the journey to freedom eternal; 
death, cast aside all the burdensome chains, and demolish the walls of our temporal body, the walls of our souls that are blinded, 
so that at last we may see that which here remains hidden.
Freedom, how long we have sought thee in discipline, action, and suffering; 
dying, we now may behold thee revealed in the Lord.

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Looking to the rock

 ‘Look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. (Isaiah 51:1)

 

(Year A: The Eleventh Sunday after Trinity, 23^rd August, 2020)

 

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

Isaiah 51:1-6

Psalm 138

Romans 12:1-8

Matthew 16:13-20

 

Every so often we may stop and wonder; stare and think; appreciate and move on.  The gospels contain one such ‘stop and wonder’ moment when Jesus asks what seems like a very simple question. It ran something like this:

I have been with you some time. We have had great times together and we have had hard times together. I never promised you that it would be easy.  You heard my call and you followed me.  Others did likewise.  News about us spread throughout the country. Some said I was a great prophet – even the greatest, others said I was a trouble maker and a fraud while others, still, said I was from the Evil One.  But, you – what do you think?  Who do you say I am? Why are you still following me? Who am I to you?

For today on this God-given Sunday, we are asked the same question.  ‘Who is Jesus Christ for you?’ ‘What does Jesus Christ mean for you today?’ ‘Does it matter?’ ‘What difference does Jesus make to my life today?’

Sometimes, we over-complicate our lives, and religion too. We think of religion (and God) as a set of ideas or a set of ‘do’s and don’ts’. We might even think of religion and God as a form of life assurance policy ‘just in case’. That is, ‘just in case it is true in some sense’ or ‘just in case I need a crutch when confronted with sudden and unbearable suffering’. Or, perhaps, religion and God is a convenient and socially acceptable way of maintaining family traditions. After all, what is the harm in baptising children if, subsequently, in a church-affiliated school it means they get a good ‘Christian’ education in self-discipline, duty and care of others along with excellent academic results?

But, who is Jesus for you today?

This Sunday’s Gospel passage is very timely and very meaningful. We need, each of us, to ask the question.  And, perhaps for now, not seek to answer the question in a hurry or in a way that is tidy, exact and definitive. Rather, let God speak to us in the question with every passing moment and breath.

After all, it was not ‘flesh and blood’ that revealed this to Peter but his Father in heaven. It was a work of grace. Peter received a calling and a trust that would be the rock foundation (the Kephas to use the Aramaic term that Jesus gave to Simon at the time of his calling) on which the early Christian community would be founded.  It is likely that the word ‘Church’ or ekklêsia in the Greek was added much later than the initial oral reporting by the writer of Matthew of Jesus’ words).

It may be noted that the much contested ‘conferring of the keys’ verse (Matthew 18:19) is unique to this Gospel and is not found in either Luke or Mark which are, in other respects, mirrors of Mathew 16:13-16.

Verses 18-19 of Chapter 16 is unique to the Gospel of Matthew. We may ask if it was introduced later to address particular concerns and was it indicative of tensions in the Christian community somewhere about Antioch and further afield in the decade of the 80s when Matthew was written?). And while some might base a strong theology of a petrine papal ministry on verse 18 of chapter 16 in one of the four canonical gospels, they need to pay attention to two verses placed two chapters on in this same gospel of Matthew.  The conferring of the ‘keys of the kingdom’ with the use of the rabbinical ‘binding and loosing’ instruction anticipates the very same words in Matthew 18:18-19):

 Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.

Matthew 16:18 and Matthew 18:18-19 need to be read together.  ‘Where two or three gather in my name…’ is the essence, meaning, source and destination of the ekklêsia  - literally a ‘gathering together of people’ in the ancient Greek. 

(ekklêsia  appears over a hundred times in the New Testament but hardly ever in the Gospels except in the Gospel of Matthew where it appears only here and in Matthew 18:17, whereas, the word ‘kingdom’, as in heavenly kingdom or kingdom of God, arises over 100 times in the four Gospels with the Greek word, basileia or some grammatical variation on basileia).

Both passages (Matthew 16:18 and 18:18-19) have been cited by Christians through the ages to strengthen a particular emphasis or latter-day arrangement for Church authority and governance. The Primus inter Pares (first among equals) of Peter is clear to most.   However, we should not jump to conclusions about modern-day patterns of church governance on foot of sweeping generalisations or extrapolations from one or two sentences of the Gospel taken in isolation. Neither should we ignore or dismiss the actual and historical evidence about the key unifying and leadering role of Peter and those who came after him in that place (Rome) where, by tradition, he was martyred and on whom the visible communion of disciples was built. Our eldest brother in faith, Peter and those who came after him – for all their faults and errors – were and are important signs of potential (and actual) communion. The Church breathes with two lungs – East and West and is founded on the rock of Peter as well as the brotherhood of equals called in Christ.

Was it on the person of Peter that the Church was built or simply on his faith and that of the community of disciples of whom Peter, apparently, was the lead spokesperson or actor? I suggest that both understandings are not mutually exclusive. In any case, the Church universal as well as the Church local was and is built on the blood of martyrs – even today in Egypt, Syria, Iraq and Pakistan. Let us never forget.

Jesus’ question to Peter ‘who do you say I am’ is essentially a question about what does Jesus mean for Peter. It is about their relationship and how they relate. It is an ‘I Thou’ dialogue (Martin Buber)

For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 3:11)

Ultimately, it is on Christ that the Church is built and it has no other rock or leader or example than the humble shepherd of Galilee –  Jeshua or Jesus who continues to work today through each and all.

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Someone's mother

 I will gather others to them besides those already gathered. (Isaiah 56:8)

 

Pic: Bazzi Rahib, Ilyas Basim Khuri. The Canaanite Woman asks for healing for her daughter, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55922 [retrieved August 12, 2020]

 (Year A: The Tenth Sunday after Trinity, 16^th August, 2020)

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

Isaiah 56:1-8

Psalm 67

Romans 11:1-32

Matthew 15:10-28

 

The second part of this Sunday’s Gospel story presents a challenge. We find ourselves with Jesus in what would have been considered as a foreign place among foreign people. Remember that in the running order of Matthew’s 15^th chapter we have just read about an argument between Jesus and some Pharisees and Scribes who were taking issue about the Law including ritual cleansing practices.

Now, in the district of tyre and Sidon a Canaanite, a foreigner, came forward and ‘started shouting’ at Jesus, a Jew, in search of help. Why would a devout Jew respond to a foreigner for help?  Was Jesus trying out the patience and trust of others around him by deliberately not answering this Canaanite (in other words ignoring her)? Even then, he provided, according to Matthew, what might be considered an abrupt and rude response by declaring ‘it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs’.  If ever Jesus might be accused of political incorrectness and ethno-religious discrimination here was a prime example! (Canaanites would have been regarded, generally, in Jewish society as a sinful and godless race to be shunned if not exterminated).

But, the Canaanite persisted and, this time, on her knees. She had a daughter who was seriously ill. And mothers, as we all know, will go to any length when it comes to their children – child or adult.  We may note that the woman persisted without being presumptuous. She did not presume that Jesus would perform a miracle. And, she did not argue with his blunt parable about giving food to the ‘dogs’. She used the parable to continue pleading by suggesting that even the dogs can eat the crumbs that fall from the masters’ table.  How often do we see an honesty and realism in those outside our comfort circles including those who are cut off from our fellowship or networks.

Feeling cut off is one of the most difficult human experiences to deal with. Many know this from experience – distant past as well as recent times when travel has been so severely restricted. Being cut off may be more than the absence of ‘real time’ encounter (as distinct from virtual). It may arise from a distancing by others and even a rejection of oneself by others.  Moreover, it may arise from past decisions that we have made – consciously or otherwise – to remove ourselves from connection to others. Whatever the circumstances, being cut off is not pleasant or wholesome.

To be cut off is to be alienated from someone or something. It may also involve a cutting off from oneself – one’s own inner being, needs and concerns. Ultimately, a state of being cut off may involve a cutting off from awareness of a loving God who watches over us every moment of our lives.

Writing to the Christians at Rome, Paul, the Apostle to the gentiles, looks with great compassion and also great hope for his own people – the Jewish people, the chosen people destined to be the first to be saved except that many of them missed the opportunity.  However, ‘the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable’ (Romans 11:29).  There is always a firm hope that even when we are cut off and alienated for whatever reasons God is waiting, calling, inviting and active in our lives.  In a well known passage from the prophecy of Isaiah we are reminded that ‘my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.’ (Isaiah 56:7).  In other words, God’s house is for everyone and not just the chosen, or the exclusively invited. God’s house has no walls and no covid attendance number restrictions apply when we understand the the broad and inclusive meaning of church (the root word, in the Greek, means gathering) !

The Canaanite mother displays three qualities: lots of faith, lots of humility laced with a sense of humour and lots of persistence. Faith and humility are the winning formula time and time again in the gospel not least when they are displayed directly by foreigners or outcasts such as the thief on the cross or the Roman centurion who pleaded for his servant.

Another assertive woman has been the mother of Jesus – the first disciple of the Lord. She declared the greatness of God her saviour in the Magnificat.  She continues to plead for the disciples with motherly care.  If faith coupled with humility can move mountains then we are witnesses to the power of God at work in intercessory prayer.

We can thank the persistence of mothers for a lot of things in our lives. The story of the foreign woman who persisted out of love for her sick daughter is a reminder that we, too, are both the object of the faith-full persistence of others as well as the subjects of faith who never give up on the mercy of God.

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Notes:

1         There are a huge number of excellent online resources providing background information and study material as well as spiritual reflection. Here are just three sources:

Hearers of the Word – notes on the Sunday Readings (Rev K. O’Mahony OSA)

Readings, hymns and sermon ideas (Rev P. Comerford)

The text this week (search by Proper and date on the right-hand side of the home page)

2         Any views, information or interpretation on this site are those of the author of this blog and are not necessarily those of others.

3         This weekend in many Christian in the West and East believe in and remember the ‘Dormition’ or ‘Assumption’ of Mary as when she fell asleep at the end of her earthly journey she was taken up by God into a place of blessedness with the Risen Christ. Her faith and humility were vindicated and her care for us never stops.

Praying with the Word

Let all the peoples praise you O God, let all the peoples praise you (Psalm 67). Heavenly Father, in Jesus you declared to the foreigner: ‘Great is your faith – let it be done for you as you wish’. Lord, you know our deepest needs and wishes. Moreover, you know what is good for us. Lead us to desire what is good for us and for others.

Loving God, your call is to everyone regardless of colour, creed or conviction. Help us to echo your call to others within and beyond our circles. Help us to be heralds of the good news that all are invited and that our gathering or ecclesia is for all.

We pray for our world and our country remembering those who are poor, on the margins, mistreated or excluded.

We pray for our families and communities – may they be places of welcome, inclusion and real love.

We pray for one another at this time …..

We pray for those who have gone before us – thanking you for their lives and example – may we all be one in your kingdom when you come again in glory.

Our Father

Collect of this Sunday: Let your merciful ears, O Lord, be open to the prayers of your humble servants; and that they may obtain their petitions,  make them to ask such things as shall please you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen (Book of Common Prayer, Trinity X)

Collect of the Word:

God of the nations, to your table all are invited and in your family no one is a stranger. Satisfy the hunger of those gathered in this house of prayer, and mercifully extend to all the people on earth the joy of salvation and faith. Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever. Amen. (Rev. K. O’Mahony, Hearers of the Word, Sunday 20A20)

Unless otherwise stated, scripture citations are taken from www.biblegateway.com using the New Revised Standard Version, Anglicised (NRSVA).  Where material is used from the Book of Common Prayer [ © 2004, RCB, Church of Ireland] this is acknowledged.

The sound of silence

 

But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ (Matt 14:27)

 

 video of stream by the Carlow-Laois border at Clogrennane Woods)

 (Year A: The Ninth Sunday after Trinity, 9^th August, 2020)

 

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

I Kings 19:9-18

Psalm 85:8-13

Romans 10:5-15

Matthew 14:22-33

(See, also, Mark 6:45-52 and John 6:16-21)

 

Many of us recently had the experience of being alone and being surrounded by relative silence: less talk, much less traffic for a while and much less travel. Somehow, the silence became noticeable to me in birdsong, wind and in the sound of the sea near me. I am blessed to be living some 100 metres from the sea as well as just under 2,000 metres from an award-winning pollinator park That was just within the lockdown travel limit for a time by foot or bicycle.

Lockdown and shielding seemed like a mixed blessing. Yet, immense suffering was present among those who were sick or afraid of being sick.

Gone were the occasions to meet up and stay with loved ones as well as opportunities to travel around this lovely island. Here was the silence and solitude of being in the presence of something greater – much greater – than me. How ironic that at the very time where the real eucharistic presence of Jesus seemed far away God came to meet me and I hope you and many others in the strange, worrying and liberating silence of ‘lockdown’. It was for us, in Ireland, an Irish lockdown – plenty of advice, much good will, lots of compliance but with much bending of the rules here and there even by the self-righteous! Somehow an Irish breakdown was just about bearable through a mixture of good neighbourliness, the wonders of modern technology and Irish pragmatism. As I write it looks as if a second lockdown – nationally – might very well be on its way.

In today’s first reading we hear of Elijah meeting God on mount Horeb – not in scenes of thunder, noise and commotion but in the ‘sound of sheer silence’ (1 Kings 19:12) according to one English language translation (NRSVA). Other versions have ‘a still small voice’ (RSV) or ‘a gentle breeze’ (CEV) while the Wycliffe Bible has ‘And after the fire there was a hissing of the wind, as if softly breathing; and the Lord was there.  Many slight variations on the same text are available on the excellent resource of Biblegateway.com and the phone app youversion.com.  The message that emerges is that God speaks gently and almost silently.  We can hear if we are still and at rest. The idea of a whisper or a gentle breeze evokes memories of a time when the Holy Spirit spoke to us in a delightful way.

However, hearing the Lord ‘speak’ to us is more than just fanciful imagination while we still the body and the mind. The writer of this Sunday’s selection from Psalm 85 declares:

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. (v.12).

To hear what God has to say to us we must be ready to ‘turn to him’ in our hearts. In other words, we must be ready to do his will. Such a disposition is not easy because we prefer to hear what we want to hear from sources that suit our agenda and hang-ups. Listening with a ready ear and an open heart and with a will ready to submit is what matters. Otherwise, we risk twisting scripture (and tradition which birthed scripture) to our own liking and tastes. It may seem impossible to approach the Word of God in such a manner of complete abandonment but we are encouraged by what St Paul writes in today’s selection from the Letter to the Romans:

‘The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart’ (10:8)

And what does this Word that is so near to us on our lips and in our hearts say this Sunday 9th August? It says:

‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ (Matthew 14:27)

When all is said and done through crisis, lockdowns and tribulation we are brought back to a place of silence and gentle breathing. God-who-is-love whispers to us by our first name ‘take heart’ and ‘do not be afraid’. Do not be afraid.

Poverty in a world of abundance

‘When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.’   (Matt 14:14)

   

 (Year A: The Eighth Sunday after Trinity, 2^nd August, 2020)

 

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

Isaiah 55:1-5

Psalm 145:8-9,15-22

Romans 9:1-5

Matthew 14:13-21

(See, also, Mark 6:30-44, Luke 9:10-17 and John 6:1-15. The miracle of the loaves and feeding of the crowds is to be found in all four gospels).

 

Abundance of life is a common theme in the scriptures. Jesus declares in John ‘I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly’ (John 10:10).  To live the life that God intended for us is to flourish. But how can people flourish if they lack the means to do so – food, shelter, medication, education and all of the cultural and social services that enable them to be partakers in the life of here and now?

Food and eating food pop up in the Bible stories again and again. It can be a sacred thing especially when it is done mindfully and collectively as an expression of co-(mm) – union. We miss communion when for one reason or another we are not able to share in the heavenly banquet a glimpse of which we catch in the sacred mysteries of the Holy Sacrament.

Right now, here in Europe, there is much talk of getting back to church and Mass and Holy Communion. But, what of the millions who still lack the material necessities of life? And, what of those who are unable to take part because they are confined to care institutions cut off from regular pastoral support. For these latter persons, technology has offered some possibility of connection, smiles and greetings – all of which are necessary complements of a sacred meal. Thank God for technology!

And Jesus had pity or compassion on the people. Hedged in by fear and uncertainty there are so many people who do not even know what to look for let alone where to look for it.  Many crave for the food of life – the food of Christ’s body and blood – but do not even know their need. Can we declare ‘Amen’ in all honesty of mind and heart?

Material and spiritual poverty are related.  Ultimately, body and soul are intertwined in a unity. We suffer the impact of not exercising those spiritual muscles of faith, hope and love. The feeding of the crowd is not unique: it crops up in each of the four gospels. In the case of the gospel of John it is the prelude to an extended teaching about the eucharist set in the context of a first century Johannine community for whom the signs of water, bread and wine are such a central part of their identity and life together as disciples of the Way.

In our own time we see the paradox of modern living: abundance and choice of foods on the one side and real hunger on the other; huge growth in knowledge and information and lack of basic literacy for millions; choice of travel and lifestyle on the one hand and, on the other, imprisonment in traditional cultures.  It seems that religion however we might define it is yet another consumer choice.  At least one positive aspect of this choice is that we have to choose. Gone are the times when it was imposed, expected or assumed. In those times it was a matter of ‘dare anyone would break church rules’. In reality it was sometimes about family norms and community respectability. Today, religion has been relegated to the private sphere and most people are reluctant to confide that they are believers or regular attenders of church. Indeed, to go to church and to declare oneself a believer attracts derision and mockery. I have experienced this on occasions over the years.

In what ways does the story of the miracle of the loaves and fish help us to understand our calling today?  We need to take a step back and consider the world in which and for which Matthew collated the very earliest stories of Jesus in the years following his death and resurrection.  Certain customs and practices were already well established including the regular gatherings of disciples around the table where stories were told, sacred texts read and bread broken and shared in remembrance of the Risen Lord. More than that, the disciples understood that the Risen Lord still stood among them especially in those moments when they gathered in his name.

In a very ancient first century Christian text called the Didache which was probably written around the same time as Matthew’s Gospel was beginning to take shape we read ‘As this broken bread was once scattered on the mountains, and after it had been brought together became one, so may thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth unto thy kingdom; for thine is the glory, and the power, through Jesus Christ, for ever.’  We cannot begin to grasp the significance of meeting, breaking and sharing bread without considering the tradition that goes back to the night of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples. There, the realities of sacrifice, communion and presence were brought together on the eve of Good Friday. There is a living connection from the story of the chosen people fed in the wilderness with manna to the sacrifice of the lamb at Passover to the new sacrifice of the Lamb of God. Steeped in Jewish tradition the early Jewish-Christians found strength and comfort in the remembered words of the Lord: ‘Do this in memory of me’. Indeed, the sign of the fish or Ichthus was the sign by which persecuted Christians communicated in the catacombs of Rome and in other places.

We live in a world marked by poverty, scarcity and enormous pressure on ordinary people. At the same time we live in a world of waste, over-spending and over-indulgence while forests, seas and pastures are destroyed. In the story of the miracle of loaves we encounter an opportunity for disciples to use what we have to serve those in need about us. God turns our small offering of joint effort to work miracles.  In God’s world there is plenty for everyone. And the truth is that there is plenty for everyone if only we were able to construct a society based on solidarity and love.

 

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Knowing and guarding our treasure

‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.   (Matt 13:45-46)

 (Year A: The Seventh Sunday after Trinity, 26^th July, 2020)

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

1 Kings 3:5-12

Psalm 119:129-136

Romans 8:26-39

Matthew 13:44-52

(There are no other Gospel parallels to the above passage in Matthew).

In the fictional film story of Titanic survivor, Rose, a sentence jumps out at the very end: ‘A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets’, declares the elderly Rose to herself about her secret treasure, Jack Dawson, lost in the sinking of the Titanic.  A precious dark blue diamond was thrown by Rose into the Atlantic Ocean in the vicinity of where the ship went down some 80 years previously – so the story goes in the film.

Finding a precious pearl and keeping it implies hard choices – sometimes painful choices for us and others.  Then again, losing or giving away a precious pearl implies hard choices – sometimes painful choices for us and others.

At this time in my life what do I treasure the most?  Really? Does this match the way one lives?  It is one thing to say we live by such and such values or that some thing or relationship is our priority. It is another matter when it comes to the working out of our lives especially in near desperate situations.  The precious pearl hidden in our hearts might be a special love, a unique calling or a broad and vague intuition of something beautiful, greater, more lasting and deeper than is apparent at first sight. Our lives are lived on the threshold of hope as we wrestle with doubts and loves in this very, very messy world of ours.

Above all else what is the precious treasure or pearl of greatest value that I am not prepared to give away – ever?

Being clear about our goals, our values and our treasures is key to life’s journey and progress. It is a lifetime quest. But, it is worth it because a treasure of greatest price is just that.

Above all, we are treasured by the One who invites us to be our treasure. We can discover a light and an energy that is reflected and refracted in our very human treasures of loving and being loved.

Line by line

‘The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.’ [v. 44]

In this passage the field may refer to our heart. First, joy…. then going away to ‘sell all’ and coming back to ‘buy’ that treasure. Life is full of choices. We have our chances, we make our choices and we gather their fruits.

(And Mary treasured all these things in her heart….Luke 2:19)

Our treasures are often hidden and out of sight – to others and even to ourselves.  Note that the treasure didn’t just turn up: it was found following a search. We may also note that in finding the treasure the one who finds discovers joy. This establishes a connection from the heart to the object of desire. We read in Matthew 6:21:

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

We may discern – carefully – the action and inspirations of the Holy Spirit in the discovery of an inner joy and peace. But, this must be tested and re-tested because not every appearance of joy comes from God. Even still, on finding joy we may be like the one who went and sold everything he owned in order to buy the field in which the treasure was hidden.  She took a risk that the treasure would still be there. Moreover, she took a risk  that the treasure would prove to be a treasure worth the sacrifice of all else.

What might our treasures be? They are many. How much are we prepared to let go of to secure that one treasure that counts? Which is the treasure of treasure of treasures that opens the way to all other treasures in our lives?

‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. [v. 45-46]

This repeats the point of verse 45, above. However, the image changes slightly to refer to a merchant going about his business in the market for pearls of outstanding value.  In the weekend edition of the Financial Times, a glossy brochure is included with information and promotions of all sorts of luxury goods and things well beyond the reach of all but the richest of readers of the Financial Times.  Though many of these have more than enough they continue to search for that ‘one thing’ that will bring them special reward. I guess that it is about security and it is about being different from the crowd (or ‘better’ than the crowd). The human mind and the human heart are ever restless until they find that special and elusive thing. Many spend lives searching and never finding, asking and never receiving while knocking and never gaining entry. Perhaps they looked for the wrong things in the wrong places at the wrong times?

The merchant was ready to sell up and move on having discovered the precious pearl. Note that he was prepared and actually did sell ‘all’. ‘All’.  There are times in life when we might be ready to sell ‘all’. This would be radical Christian discipleship and discipleship not confined to the religiously consecrated or those who find themselves in extraordinary situations such as millions of Christians, today, in Egypt, Syria, Iraq and other places.

‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind [v.47] 

The sea is a place of mystery. It looks so beautiful and not infrequently calm like the sea just beside where I live. But, beneath the surface lie surprises and unknown crevices and treasures. Further out into the ocean where no human being or camera has gone unknown species and other secrets lie hidden. Life can resemble an ocean where we have no idea, at first, what lies beneath the surface of people, relationships and events. We cast the nets, so to speak, in trust and expectation. However, what emerges is mixed, unpredictable, surprising and challenging. Over-fishing is widespread in places off the Irish coast as the sea gulls know when they descend on the towns and harbours in search of fish and the odd ice cream cone or chip in the hands of the unwitting! We may cast and cast again but find little by way of reward because we fish in the wrong places for the wrong things. We need to refocus our search. Or, perhaps we need to take a rest in the harbour until the storm passes by or stocks are restored?

‘when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.  So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’  [v.48-50] 

Any catch will be a mixed one especially when it is a question of a large dragnet or
sagēnē as it was written in the Greek.  Before anyone might wish to get choosy or discriminatory too quickly about who is or is not worthy to enter into full communion with us let him or her learn from the parable of the fishing net and the kingdom of heaven. Jesus – even in Matthew’s Gospel – is more keen to talk about the kingdom (or God’s reign among us) than about the church (or ekklésia meaning a gathering) important as the gathering of disciples is to the work of God’s reign in this very changing and changeable world. We ought to leave judgment to God. In any case who is any one of us to judge another?  We are, all of us, under judgment at the seat of mercy and justice. There are things of which we would not be proud, as disciples of Christ, were we to be open about everything in our past or even our present.  And, nobody is so certain of their being saved until God calls us when He wills and as He wills.

“‘Have you understood all this?’ They answered, ‘Yes.’ And he said to them, ‘Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.’” [v.51-52] 

We think we understand. But, do we?  Life is a school in which we learn wisdom, patience and love. The job is never finished. And in the living out of our discipleship we learn from those around us because the Holy Spirit is everywhere (and not just those in official garbs or with initials after their names). We are constantly receiving again the messages of old as we deepen our understanding and commitment to the living Christ. It can be painful to contrast what we thought was sure and solid with the realities of living. God confronts us again and again in the voices and faces of those who upset our neat and tidy order of things and along with that our incomplete or even misleading notions of God who serves to reinforce our prejudices and securities. We have much work to do and thank God we have the light of today in which to do it. We only have now.  That is our precious pearl. And we should be very grateful for it.

Dealing with weeds

‘Let anyone with ears listen!’  (Matt 13:43)

 (Year A: The Sixth Sunday after Trinity, 19^th July, 2020)

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READINGS (COI & paired as between the Gospel and the Old Testament readings)

Wisdom 12:13-19

Psalm 65

Romans 8:12-25

Matthew 13:24-43

(See also Mark 4:30-32 and Luke 13:18-32).

We take up the story of seeding – again – following last Sunday’s reading from the opening verses of chapter 13 of the gospel of Matthew. Having heard (and re-heard) the story of seeding on four different soils (Some gardening tips) we now hear three more stories: the weeds among the wheat, the mustard seed and the leavening of yeast.  We may note the development from seed to wheat to preparation of bread. The series of stories leads – typically and somewhat uniquely for Matthew – to an extended explanation by Jesus of its inner meaning and application. 

The art of story-telling (seanchaíocht)

The role of story-telling, parable and song throughout the sacred scriptures is vital. The Psalmist declares in Psalm 77:1-2:

Give heed, my people, to my teaching; turn your ear to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in a parable and reveal hidden lessons of the past.

In this parable, Matthew divide the audience into the ‘crowds’ and the ‘disciples’. For the former audience story-telling grounded in real life was the main approach while for the latter audience a more theological explanation is on offer to those ready to listen and understand (the disciples). Could Matthew, here, be reflecting the conversations and concerns among the early Christian communities in which Matthew and his literary sources were developing? Making sense of stories was important and someone needed to spell it out. Yet, one of the great advantages of parables is that they can admit of more than one explanation or analogy. The early ‘Christian Fathers’ (the ‘Mothers’ hardly got a look in on official story-telling) were most creative and inventive in building the stories into connecting narratives relating the ordinary to the big themes of death, resurrection, church, end-time and so on. 

A good story-teller needs: (i) a competent story-teller (the seanchaí in ancient Irish custom), (ii) a receptive audience that is eager to listen and relate with the story and its teller and, (iii) a connecting story that echoes the concerns, hopes, experiences, insights and struggles of the audience. (The seanchaí might be seen as an ancient Celtic psalmist or file [poet] telling the story of her people in riddle and drama as well as personal anguish and hope).

Four horsemen lurking

For us listening again to the story of seeding, growing and harvesting the challenge is to connect our struggles to the story. Indeed, if the story does not in some way connect to our experience, memory, understanding and will then it remains for us something like a weed among precious plants. Rather than dividing ourselves into parties of good plants and bad weeds we might think again about how these stories invite us to look within and find a mix of things there. What are those feelings and thoughts of which we are scarcely aware of or which we would never readily share with another human being?

For each one it might be different in detail but remarkably similar in the general pattern. If we stop, listen and look we may discern the choking weeds of guilt, sadness, anger and anxiety. If we are honest, we will find these ‘four horsemen of death’ (cf. Revelation 6) within ourselves. Translated to particular relationships we meet the four horsemen of criticism, contempt, defensiveness and stonewalling. These weeds choke even the best of people and kill the life of trust, respect and faithfulness. Yet, best efforts notwithstanding, these ‘horsemen’ can kill many a relationship at home, at work or in the community (yes and also churches!).

The wisdom of love

The idea of separating wheat from weeds is intuitively obvious. The wisdom of waiting ‘until harvest time’ before sorting out one from the other also makes sense. The parable is explained in terms of separating the good from the evil. 

In our daily living we encounter good and bad within ourselves and within others. Sometimes it is hard to tell one from the other. Moreover, it is too easy to rush to judgment especially when it concerns the behaviour or supposed intentions of others. Sometimes it is best to wait for the right occasion to address the ‘unwanted weeds’ bearing in mind, also, that we can get it wrong because ‘weeds’ have been described as ‘unloved flowers’. Stressing the positive in ourselves and others may be the first step to tackling what is not positive.

However, we also need to face up to the very reality of evil when it involves exploitation, oppression, lies, violence and hatred. Too often institutions, leaders in church, state and civil society avoided confronting evil by turning a blind eye or claiming defence of the good name of the entity as whole. In some cases leaders, officials and others were complicit in the very evil itself directly or indirectly through omission of steps to protect those whom they should have protected.

In any situation of conflict, challenge and moral contestation those involved need to show tact, patience and courage in doing what needs to be done. Leaving matters to others is not a right option. Neither is a one-sided blinkered approach that supposes we know who is in the right and who is in the wrong. Typically it is not black and white even though a misuse of the parable of the wheat and the weeds from this Gospel passage  sees ‘them’ (all in the wrong and just plain evil) and ‘us’ (all in the right and always good).

Spotting and tending the weeds in our own hearts and souls is a good starting place. But, it does not stop there.

Is the best and only response that of ‘direct attack’? We need to be very careful in discussing general principles wrapped up in parables and metaphors. Context and big picture matter. Suffice it to say that ‘direct attack’ might actually make the situation worse. There is a time and a place for ‘direct attack’ on the ‘weeds’ (and not, it must be emphasised, on persons no matter who they are).  As a general principle, we do well to cultivate the positive seeds of gentleness, compassion, listening and affirmation.  Randomly scattered here and scattered there, carefully tended and given sustained effort we might see miracles in ordinary everyday living. Then again we might see nothing but the seeds sprout at another time and in ways we never imagined such as in the mustard tree where others rest.

Smiling at the weeds?

We might, circumstances depending, even go further and ‘smile’ at those weeds but not yield to them.  Now, one is not suggesting condoning bad behaviour or destructive thoughts in ourselves and others. But, there are times when the best policy is to smile at a negative but not dwell with it or surf it or give it authority or status. This is easier said than done. Sowing and cultivating ‘positives’ is, perhaps, the best defence and best way forward. The weeds wither away (but rarely die altogether and look for opportunities to grow and latch on again like a coronavirus) and the positives take over in our hearts and minds. And this positive growth cannot avoid having some spill-over and influence on others.

In this time of pandemic we might learn a thing or too from the parables of Jesus – it is a combination of prudent preventive activity and growth in the right antibodies that will protect us and those we love if and when a second wave arrives on our doorsteps.