Friday, May 18, 2012

2nd Sunday in Lent – Year B (March 4th)

March 2, 2012 by  
Filed under Gospel Reflections

2nd Sunday in Lent – Year B (March 4th)
Readings: Genesis 22:1-2, 9-13, 15-18
Psalm 116: 10, 15-19
Romans 8:31-34
Mark 9:2-10
The second Sunday in Lent always has as its gospel story the Transfiguration, which we read, quite correctly, as a glimpse of the truth about Jesus as the disciples make their confused way to Jerusalem (we may sympathise them as we make our confused way through Lent, buoyed up by this glimpse of Easter). Very interesting, though, is the reading that this year the Church offers us to start our reflection on God’s word. For this year, it is that terrible story of when “God tested Abraham”. The story is not told in full, and you could usefully sit down and read the whole of Genesis 22, to feel the awful chill of it. We are not at any stage told what the characters were feeling, not God, not Abraham, not poor little Isaac, nor indeed Sarah, who is not mentioned in the story, and who, the next time she appears, dies, at the age of 127. What leaps from the page is Abraham’s obedience to God. When God calls him, and when, later in the story, the angel addresses him from heaven, his response (and did he come to regret it?) is one of whole-hearted generosity, “Here I am”. In our foreshortened version of the story, we watch in deathly cold as Abraham does exactly what he is told, down to the moment when “he took the knife to slaughter his son”, and then we breathe a sigh of relief as he is stopped. How are we to read this story? We should not rush in too rapidly, but one thing that we need to hear this Lent, especially as Jesus approaches his terrible end, is that above all we have to obey God. There is no other way to go.

The psalm for next Sunday may give us a clue, “I trusted, when I said, ‘I am much oppressed’.” The psalmist knows that God loves his people, “Precious in YHWH’s eyes is the death of his beloved”, it says (possibly, a bit like us, only half-understanding). The psalmist emphasises that he is both God’s “son” and God’s “servant”. And that is true, of course, of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jesus himself. The psalm ends with the encouraging shout of “Halleluiah” (“Praise God!”).

In the second reading, Paul is giving his Roman readers (and us, incidentally) grounds for encouragement, “If God is for us, who is against us?” Then there is a clear reference to Abraham in our first reading, when he says, “He did not spare his Beloved Son”, linking Jesus and Isaac, “but gave him up for us all”. Unlike Isaac on the mountain, Jesus died, “but, better, was raised, and is at God’s right hand, and intercedes for us”.

The gospel for next Sunday also has a mountain, a high one, according to Mark. So we follow Jesus and his “inner cabinet” up its slopes with some trepidation. And before our (and their) startled gaze, Jesus is “transfigured”. Not only that, but his clothes are impossibly white, and he is in very exalted company. For Moses and Elijah, those two great figures of the Old Testament, representing the Law and the Prophets are “chatting to him as equals”. Peter wants to make this a permanent arrangement, and have a series of tents (“let’s stay here”). Mark charitably excuses this idiotic plan on the grounds that “he did not know how to respond – for they were in a panic”. But that is not the end of the story, for as in our first and second reading, God intervenes, definitively identifying Jesus as “my beloved Son” (and we remember that the same phrase was used of poor Isaac), and giving firm instructions, “Listen to him”. But the disciples cannot possibly understand all this (can we?), and as they go down the mountain they are instructed to “tell nobody what they had seen, except when the Son of Man is risen from the dead”. As the disciples scratch their heads and wonder what on earth that might mean, we reflect that we are being invited, in our Lenten journey, to keep our eyes on its Easter goal.

1st Sunday in Lent – Year B (February 26th)

February 24, 2012 by  
Filed under Gospel Reflections

1st Sunday in Lent – Year B (February 26th)
Readings: Genesis 9:8-15
Psalm 25:4-9
1 Peter 3:18-22
Mark 1:12-15
Next Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, and we start our long, and for many of us, potentially rather gloomy journey towards Easter. Next Sunday is therefore the first Sunday of Lent; and the journey is potentially rather gloomy because in it we find ourselves all too uncomfortably reminded of our inadequacies (including, in some cases, our inability to keep our Lenten penances going throughout the forty days). The Church, however, speaks of “this joyful season of Lent”, and perhaps the clue is to see it as part of our necessary preparation for Easter Sunday, the greatest feast of the Church’s Year.

The first reading for next Sunday is certainly joyful enough. In it, God is speaking to Noah and his sons in the aftermath of the flood, and making a promise. Now when God makes a promise, we know that he is faithful, and will deliver; and therefore there are grounds for joy. Here the promise is that “never again shall all flesh be destroyed by the waters of the Flood”. And the sign is the beautiful and heartening sign of the rainbow, so important in all cultures. The “bow”, significantly enough, is precisely the weapon of terror, symbolic of God’s power. Today it might be a “nuclear missile” that became the sign of God’s loving mercy; but the rain-bow is rather more endearing, as God promises, “I shall place my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth”. We might do worse, as we journey through Lent, than glance at the occasional rainbow, as a reminder.

The difficulty, of course, is that we don’t always operate in the way that we (and God) would wish, and the realisation of that fact can make our Lent a gloomy time. So we must make our own the words of the psalm for next Sunday, “Lord, make me know your ways; Lord, teach me your paths”. But we are not here addressing a bad-tempered school-master, and so we ask God to “remember your mercy, YHWH, and your steadfast love, because they are from all time”. We should be cheered by this, as we set out on the Lord’s way this week.

The second reading gives us reason for hope. There is a reminder of Noah and our first reading (“God’s patience in the days of Noah”), and that is related to our baptism, by which we are made part of the Easter mystery. The reading ends with “the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, who is at God’s right hand, having gone into heaven, with the angels and authorities and powers subject to him”. And that is appropriate at the start of our Easter journey. But the beginning is appropriate, too: “Christ suffered once for sins, a just man on behalf of the unjust, that he might lead you to God, since he has been put to death in the flesh, but brought to life in the Spirit”.

The gospel for next Sunday is from Mark (whom we are of course following this year). It is, as always on the first Sunday of Lent, the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. And, as so often with Mark, it is just the bare bones of the story (Matthew and Luke offer us a three-fold structure of temptations). It starts with the Spirit, who, we are told, “hurls him into the desert”. We learn that Jesus “was in the desert for forty days, being tempted by Satan”. Then, mysteriously, “he was with the wild beasts”, which does not sound too good, except that it may represent the inauguration of the new order suggested by Isaiah, where the “lion shall lie down with the lamb”. And “the angels were ministering to him”, which also sounds good. Then we follow the start of Jesus’ ministry, and we discover that it comes at a not particularly good time, “After John had been arrested”. This promises to be an interesting 40-day journey on which we are shortly to embark.

7th Sunday – Year B (February 19th)

February 13, 2012 by  
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7th Sunday – Year B (February 19th)
Readings: Isaiah 43:18-19, 21-22, 24-25
Psalm 41: 2-5, 13-14
2 Corinthians 1:18-22
Mark 2:1-12
Our God is one who always seeks to set us free, even when our captivity is, as is all too often the case, of our own making. The first reading for next Sunday is telling the exiles in Babylon that, even though the Exile was their own fault, God is going to take them back home. So he tells them, “Do not remember what happened before”. And the reason is that God is “about to do something new…a road in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert”. The problem, though, is that Israel “burdened me with your sins”.

The psalmist is aware that God is always trying to make things better, and that we should be the same, “Happy are those who care for the poor”, he sings, “…YHWH will sustain them on their sickbed”. And he ends with a triumphant song of joy, one that probably did not originally belong with this psalm, but suits the mood well enough, “Blessed be YHWH, God of Israel, from age to age. Amen. Amen”.

In the second reading, Paul insists that God is reliable. It has to be said that the context is that of accusations from the Corinthians that Paul himself had proved unreliable, promising that he was going to visit them in Corinth, and never turning up. Paul is firmly asserting, “our message to you is not ‘Yes and No.” As always with Paul, it comes back to Jesus and to God. He produces an exceedingly solemn affirmation, “For the Son of God, Jesus Messiah, the one who has been proclaimed among you through us…did not turn out to be ‘Yes and No’; on the contrary ‘Yes’ came to be in him,” and Jesus is described as God’s “Yes” and “Amen”, the whole contract sealed with “the pledge of the Spirit”. That is the source of Paul’s reliability, and of ours also.

In the gospel for next Sunday, we see the ever-reliable God working to set us free from all that oppresses us. It is a remarkable story; it starts with the crowds that pack round Jesus, so that the door of the house where he is becomes utterly inaccessible. Suddenly, while Jesus was “giving them the message”, “they come, bringing a paralytic to him, carried by four people”. Unbelievably, such is their determination to bring their friend to Jesus, they go up and dig a hole in the roof, and lower him down on their stretcher. Jesus is not even remotely fazed by this turn of events; but notice how unexpected his response is. Not “what are you doing with that roof?”, nor even, as you might have predicted, “Arise, take up your bed and walk”, but “Child, your sins are forgiven”, in which we may presume that he is going right to the heart of the matter. Then the story takes yet another unexpected turn, and we discover that there are scribes present. These characters are complaining bitterly (but discreetly) that Jesus was arrogating to himself a function that is reserved to God alone (and Mark may be heard in the background muttering “exactly!”). Jesus, it turns out, knows what they are up to, and makes a very simple point in response. “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven’, or to say, ‘Arise, take up your bed, and walk’?” As the question hangs in the air, we have time to reflect that the word “arise” is one of the two words for “Resurrection” in the entire New Testament. Then comes the devastating conclusion to the argument, as he tells the man precisely, “Arise, take up your bed, and go to your house”. And Mark gives us the upshot, not hiding the reference to Resurrection, “And he was raised up, and immediately taking up his bed, he went out before all of them. The result was that they were all amazed, and glorified God, saying, ‘We never saw anything like this!’” This week, let us pay very close attention to a God who seeks to set us free from our captivity.

6th Sunday – Year B (February 12th)

February 13, 2012 by  
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6th Sunday – Year B (February 12th)
Readings: Leviticus 13:1-2, 44-46
Psalm 32:1-2, 5, 11
1 Corinthians 10:31-11:1
Mark 1:40-45
There are various conditions which cause us human beings to take the easy option of excluding people whom we regard as Other. In this country race use to be one such (perhaps still is); HIV-AIDS is certainly another. We can also behave in this dehumanising way on the tenuous basis of all kinds of other criteria: wealth, class, education, blonde hair – you name it. In Scripture, a handy catch-all for dismissing other people was that of leprosy.

In the first reading for next Sunday, you can read how they handled leprosy in the Old Testament. Leprosy was a fiercely contagious disease, and you can understand that society wanted to avoid it. So the priests are put in charge of inspecting people for lepers, and society could breathe a sigh of relief. But what of those whom society excluded because of this priestly inspection? The reading begins with the appearance of the symptoms, sensibly skips a very long section describing all possible manifestations of leprosy, which would put you off your lunch, and ends with the very firm isolation of those who are found to have the disease. They have to shout “Unclean! Unclean!” and live apart from the community. We may imagine the effect on them of this perfect reasonable legislation.

The psalm speaks of another form of alienation, that caused by sin, but rejoices that it is brought to an end, “Happy those whose sin is removed, whose fault is forgiven”, it begins, “happy those to whom YHWH does not impute guilt”. The singer has “acknowledged my guilt to you”, and concludes with an invitation to rejoice in the God who removes alienation, “Rejoice in YHWH, and exult, you just ones, shout for joy, you upright of heart”.

In the second reading, Paul is speaking of another form of alienation, arising out of the tension in the Christian community at Corinth between those who thought it wrong to eat meat that had been offered to idols, and those who were quite easy about it. Paul’s solution to the alienation is to “Do all to the glory of God”; and then to be attentive to the needs of all, “Jews and non-Jews and the entire Church of God”. The key thing is to look out for the interests of others, “not my own”, and, as always with Paul, to “imitate Christ”.

In Sunday’s gospel, we see how Jesus dealt with the alienating condition of leprosy. The leper is very direct in his approach, “begging him… ‘if you want, you can make me clean’.” For Jesus there are no two ways about it: “He was deeply moved and stretched out his hand and touched him”. So Jesus has now contracted the leprosy, and is certainly ritually impure. Mark’s readers, and Jesus’ observers, would have shuddered. Listen, though to what Jesus says in reply, “I do want – be made clean”. Astonishingly, like a mugger sent packing, “And immediately the leprosy left him; and he was made clean.” Then the story takes an odd turn; for although the man is no longer a danger to society, we read that “He [presumably Jesus] snorting in rage, immediately flung him out and says to him, ‘See that you say nothing to nobody’.” Then Jesus contradicts himself with an instruction that the ex-leper is to go and show himself to the priests, make the appropriate offering, and so end his alienation. Not surprisingly, the leper “went out and began to proclaim many things, and to spread the word”, which meant that in his turn Jesus is driven out to the desert, and yet “they were coming to him from all sides”. Alienation is not what God wants for us, or for any other human beings. Is there someone to whom you might extend God’s reconciling hand this week, to end their alienation?

5th Sunday – Year B (February 5th)

February 13, 2012 by  
Filed under Gospel Reflections

5th Sunday – Year B (February 5th)
Readings: Job 7:1-4, 6-7
Psalm 147:1-6
1 Corinthians 9:16-19
Mark 1:29-39
A constant question that besets human beings is, “Does my life have any meaning at all?”. The answer, surely, is that it doesn’t, unless it is true what Christians (and other believers) say about God.

In the first reading for next Sunday, Job addresses this question with characteristic gusto. He uses the dramatic, and in his day very hi-tech, image of the weaver’s shuttle, whose speed he compares to the rapidity with which human life passes. This is all to support his angry claim that “humans have compulsory labour – their days are those of a hired servant”. The whole thing, he argues, is meaningless, and keeps him awake at nights. “Remember that my life is like the wind; my eyes shall never look on happiness again”.

That reading leaves the question hanging in the air, although an answer of a sort is offered towards the end of the book. The psalm, for next Sunday, however, is quite clear that there is every reason to be optimistic about finding meaning in life, “Halleluiah, for it is good to play a tune to our God”. And the answer here is that it all comes back to God, who is personally concerned with the people of God, “He builds up Jerusalem, YHWH gathers the scattered of Israel”. But this is a God who is also effortlessly Lord of all creation, “He counts the stars, and calls them all by their names”. However, our God is different from other gods, in that “He lifts up the lowly and throws the wicked to the ground”.

For Paul (and perhaps for us also) the source of meaning in his life is the God-given task of preaching the gospel. “If I preach the gospel, that is nothing to boast about…woe to me if I do not preach the gospel”. And it is the preaching that is his reward, namely “to preach the gospel, and make it free of charge, so as not to abuse the authority that I have with regard to the gospel.” So Paul finds meaning in his life by subordinating everything else to this major task, “I become weak to the weak, in order to win over the weak…I have become all things to all, that I may somehow save some. I do everything for the gospel, so as to have a share in it”.

In the gospel, you do not find Jesus scratching his head and asking, “Well what’s the meaning of it all, then?” Jesus simply goes ahead and lives the kingdom. Look at the gospel reading for next Sunday. He emerges from the synagogue, where he has had a highly successful battle with the local demons; and immediately he is plunged into the misery of Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, in bed with a fever (and therefore, in an age before antibiotics, quite likely to die). He does not stop to consider that he has no place in the women’s quarters, nor that she might be ritually impure, both because she is a woman and because she might be a corpse. He simply goes and takes her by the hand and raises her up. Then, when the Sabbath is over, the locals bring everyone who is suffering from diseases and demons. At the same time, he will not have any cheap propaganda, “He would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him”.

There is however just one thing that Jesus does in order to find meaning in his life, and it is something that we too should do. Late at night, he gets up and goes to a desert place in order to commune with the one he called “Father”. And notice the effect that it has on him. When Simon and the rest hunt him down, on the grounds that he is wanted, he doesn’t, as you or I might do, insist on being left alone; nor, on the other hand, does he meekly acquiesce. Instead, he wants to move on, “to other places…that I may preach there too. For this is the reason why I came”. And on he goes, “preaching into the synagogues in the whole of Galilee. And casting out demons”. There is meaning for you.

4th Sunday – Year B (January 29th)

February 13, 2012 by  
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4th Sunday – Year B (January 29th)
Readings: Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm 95:1-2, 6-9
1 Corinthians 7:32-35
Mark 1:21-28
How do you know when God is speaking to you? The first lesson has to be that God is faithful; the second is that God can act in decisive, not to say overwhelming, ways. This is the message that emerges from next Sunday’s readings. In the first reading, Moses is talking, in reflective mode, towards the end of his life, about what God is proposing to do, and promising that after his death there will be “a prophet from among your own, like me”. And they must obey him. Moses reminds them that this is because they were so frightened at hearing God’s voice and seeing God’s fire. So the ever-faithful God warns them, “I shall put my words in his mouth; and if anyone does not listen to my words which he will speak in my name – I shall myself make him answer for it.” And, in the same breath, the prophet is warned that if he does not perform this task, “he shall die”. It is a serious task, this of speaking on God’s behalf.

The psalm for next Sunday is a cheerful song of joy to “YHWH, the Rock of our salvation”, and shows no hesitation in inviting us all to “come before his face in thanksgiving”. At the same time, God is far above us, and so we are to “bow low before him, and kneel in YHWH’s presence, who made us”, even though there is the same intimacy between God and the people of God as between “a shepherd” and “the sheep of his pasture”. As always, however, there is a warning to heed: “Do not harden your hearts as at Contention, as on the Day of Testing in the desert”. We respond thoughtfully to this hymn.

In the second reading, Paul is still trying to work out a doctrine of marriage that will make sense to the Corinthians. Above all he wants this rather difficult group to be alert to the Lord, “how to please the Lord”, and he is aware of how even good things like marriage can distract us from the Lord’s service. Our task is to do what is “proper and devoted to the Lord, without distraction”.

As the gospel for next Sunday powerfully demonstrates, God speaks through Jesus. Notice what this does for Jesus’ message. See, first, the confidence with which Jesus and his little party “enter Capernaum. And immediately on the Sabbath, he entered the synagogue and started to teach”. Then we hear the first comments, and the all-important verdict that he speaks “like one who has authority, and not like the scribes”. The verdict is even offered (perhaps reluctantly) by the opposition. For “immediately there was a man with an unclean spirit, and crying out…”. We should listen attentively to what the demon says, “What have you to do with us, Jesus the Nazarene? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God”. It should be said at this point that part of the way to get power over demons is to name them, and that is what the demon is trying to do to Jesus. But it cannot work, as Jesus simply gives the orders. “Be silent, and come out of him”. The last kick of the dying horse is that “the unclean spirit convulsed him, and crying out a great cry went out of him”. We listen and watch as the spectators draw their own conclusions, “They all marvelled, so that they argued with each other saying, ‘What is this? A new teaching with authority! He even commands the unclean spirits – and they obey him!’” That word “authority” says it all. This is the voice of God, showing up the shabby ineffectuality of all that is opposed to God. The obvious solution has to be that this is indeed “the prophet like Moses” whom our first reading promised; and so we are not at all surprised to hear that “his reputation went out immediately everywhere, to the whole surrounding region of Galilee”. When God speaks, people get to notice it.

3rd Sunday – Year B (January 22nd)

February 13, 2012 by  
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3rd Sunday – Year B (January 22nd)
Readings: Jonah 3:1-5, 10,
Psalm 25: 4-9
1 Corinthians 7:29-31
Mark 1:14-20
An experience many people have is that of the sheer overwhelming power of the word of God. Jonah, as you may recall, had it, and did not like the idea at all, so he ran away, taking the nearest boat. The first reading for next Sunday has him back on track, after his adventure inside the large fish that God had sent, and now he is at last ready to do what God wants him to do, namely to preach the message to Nineveh. Jonah’s preaching turns out to be unexpectedly successful. When they hear that they will be destroyed in 40 days, they “proclaimed a fast, and clothed themselves in sackcloth, from the greatest to the least”. And, in a passage that is not included in our reading, we learn that this included the king and the animals (who will no doubt have been a bit puzzled by this turn of events). The result is that “God saw what they did, that they turned from their evil way, and changed his mind about the evil that he had spoken of, and did not do it”. You might be interested to read what Jonah thought about all this; you can find out by reading chapter 4, and I defy you to do so with a straight face.

The psalm for next Sunday recognises that God’s way is different. It is an alphabetical psalm, which means that in the original each verse starts with a different letter of the Hebrew alphabet; but more important for our purposes is that it recognises that (like Jonah) we do not instinctively know how God is going to work, “Make me know your ways, YHWH”, he sings, “teach me your paths”. And the reason? “Because you are the God of my salvation”, but at the same time, there is a fear that God might have forgotten something, “Remember your mercy and love”. And, above all, God is on the side of the marginalised: “he guides the lowly in righteousness, and instructs the lowly on the way”.

In the second reading, Paul is trying to get the Corinthians to listen to God’s word with regard to sex and marriage. Some of them had been saying that sex was a bad thing and that Christians should avoid it. Others were rather inclined to argue that Paul had preached a gospel of freedom, and that meant that they could do what they liked, thank-you very much, including what Paul regarded as a wholly undesirable freedom in matters of sexual behaviour. Patiently, Paul explains that it is not quite like that. Our task (“the time is shortened, brothers and sisters”) is to concentrate on Jesus and what he is saying, “for the shape of this world is passing away”. Once you see that, says, Paul, it doesn’t matter whether you are married or unmarried. What matters is listening to God in Christ.

Listening to God is what Jesus did, of course. Next Sunday’s gospel continues the journey through Mark that will take most of this year, and we watch Jesus in some astonishment, as he reacts to the arrest of John the Baptist, but not by diving for cover, as might have been more prudent. Instead, he goes into Galilee (where the younger Herod was ruling), “proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying ‘the time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has drawn near. Repent, and believe in the gospel’.” Nor does our astonishment cease there, for instantly we see him summoning two sets of brothers, first Simon and Andrew, from their profession of fishermen, and then the sons of Zebedee, Jacob and John. None of these four does what you or I might do, and call for the police, or the men in white coats. They simply lay down the tools of their trade and follow him. In the case of the sons of Zebedee, they simply abandon their astonished father in the boat, with the hired servants. We shall not understand this extraordinary behaviour until we also learn to listen to this powerful voice, and give our lives over to it. Like James and John and Andrew and Simon, but perhaps unlike the sulky prophet Jonah, we shall not regret it.

2nd Sunday – Year B (January 15th)

February 13, 2012 by  
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2nd Sunday – Year B (January 15th)
Readings: 1 Samuel 3:3-10, 19,
Psalm 40: 2, 4, 7-10
1 Corinthians 6:13-15, 17-20
John 1:35-42
What matters above all is that we should develop the habit of listening out for God’s voice. It is there; but it is always a gentle voice, and therefore we must pay careful attention to it. In the first reading, we are witnesses to the splendid story of Samuel who “did not yet know YHWH and the word of YHWH had not yet been revealed to him”. So when he hears the voice calling “Samuel, Samuel”, we can hardly blame him if he pads along to where the priest Eli is sleeping, thinking that it must have been the old man who had been calling him. Eventually Eli realises what is going on, and tells Samuel the formula, one that we should all make our own, “Speak, YHWH, for your servant is listening”. Samuel does that, and if you want to find out what happens next, you must look at the bits of 1 Samuel 3 that are not included in next Sunday’s reading. Our reading ends, deceptively calmly, with the assurance that “Samuel grew, and YHWH was with him, and did not let any of his words fall to the ground”. Strange things can happen when you listen to God.

The psalm for next Sunday also knows this; “I waited, I waited for YHWH, and he bent down and heard my cry” (so here it is God listening to us, not the other way round!). Like Samuel, however, the psalmist has received something from God, “He put a new song into my mouth, praise for our God”. There is also an insight, that God does not want “sacrifice and offering”, but a response like that of the poet, “I said, ‘Behold, I have come …to do your will’”. Then he proclaims it, “I announced your deed in the great assembly”. This listening goes both ways.

Next Sunday’s second reading is not precisely on this issue, for Paul is trying to deal with the regrettable tendency of at least some of the Corinthian church to go visiting the prostitutes who were so numerous in the Corinth of his day. The answer he offers them is to reflect, “what is the body for?”; and when you put it that way, there can be only one response, “the body is for the Lord”. And more than that, we are not just talking about our individual, physical bodies, but also about the body of Christ, which is the Church, “the shrine of the Holy Spirit which is in you, which you have from God. You are not your own property”. Then he concludes with the sharp reminder of how Christ had suffered for them, “You were bought at a price. So glorify God in your body”. And this body, quite clearly, is the Church. Our task, then, is to listen out for all the implications of all our actions, and hear what God is saying.

The gospel for next Sunday comes, appropriately enough, immediately after Jesus has been baptised. We have heard all about the Word made flesh; but, oddly enough, this “Word” has not yet uttered a single syllable. That is now about to change, but first we have to listen to what John the Baptist says about him. And it is a very odd thing indeed, but it has struck a chord, because we hear it or utter it every time we attend mass: “Look – the Lamb of God”. This word is spoken before witnesses, and, like Samuel, they hear and act, “They heard him speaking, and they followed Jesus”. Now at last we hear the Word speak; and his first words in the gospel are “What are you looking for?” (a good question for each of us to ask ourselves this week). We might also listen to what they ask, “Where do you stay?”, for that is something that we all want to know. But then we have also to hear Jesus’ response to us, “Come, and you will see”. And these would-be disciples did precisely that; and, as we too shall find, once you do this listening and seeing, it spreads; for Andrew brings his brother Simon, and introduces him to Jesus, telling him that he is “the Messiah”. Jesus then gives him a nick-name, “Rock” (possibly because he was not very rock-like). And we listen in awe, and know that there is more to come. Will you be listening out for the Lord’s voice, this week?

Epiphany – Year B (January 8th)

January 4, 2012 by  
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Epiphany – Year B (January 8th)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72: 2, 7-8, 10-13
Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6
Matthew 2:1-12
Next Sunday the Church celebrates the Solemnity of the Epiphany. The name means, “showing forth”, and not surprisingly the readings for the feast speak of the light shining on the mystery of God’s plan.

The first reading urges a depressed Jerusalem, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of YHWH has shone upon you”. This is in contrast to the present situation, “Behold, darkness shall cover the earth and thick clouds the peoples”. Then we are given a vision of what will happen to the People of God (in decided contrast to what is going on at present), “Lift up your eyes round about and see”. And what do they see? A very cheering vision: “Your sons shall come from afar, and your daughters on their nurses’ shoulders”, which will have a (literally) splendid effect on Jerusalem, “Then you shall see and you will be radiant”, at the picture of the flow of wealth into Jerusalem, including “dromedaries of Midian and Ephah”. And the climax is “And they shall announce the praises of YHWH”. That is what it is all about.

The psalm is a song for a newly-crowned King of Judaea, “May he judge your people with justice, and your poor with uprightness”. There is the mystery of God’s subversive plan; the King is indeed to have a vast domain, “from sea to sea, from the River to the ends of the earth”, and to accept the homage of other potentates, but only as long as he looks after the “poor…the needy and the helpless”. It would be good if all our Presidents and leaders were to make this their motto, and it would shed light on a darkened world.

The second reading for the solemnity also speaks of the mystery of God’s plan; and here it is revealed as the astonishing fact that “the Gentiles are to be co-heirs, and the same body, and co-sharers if the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel”. This is indeed a very hidden mystery, and one to which Paul knows himself to be called.

The mystery is acted out in the lovely story that is the gospel for next Sunday, the story of the arrival of the Magi in Jerusalem. These people are precisely Gentiles, and they have it right, even if they start their visit with a tactless enquiry, “Where is the one born King of the Jews?”. This is less than tactful, because there is a King of the Jews happily reigning, and his name is Herod; and he has a decidedly brisk way with anything that threatens his throne (including the murder of his wives and sons). Unsurprisingly, Herod and the Jerusalem establishment are “disturbed” at the tidings; but very surprisingly, they believe that the Magi have it right, because Herod actually asks his advisers where the Messiah is to be born. They press the buttons on their computer, and come up with the answer, “Bethlehem”, so the Magi set off in that direction, with a promise to return and tell Herod all about it, because he too wishes to “worship” the child (though the reader is uncomfortably aware that what Herod means by “worship” is probably rather different from what the Magi are proposing to do).

However God is in charge of this mystery of light, and they are now led by the light of a star; they perform their worship, and offer their gifts of “gold, frankincense and myrrh” (which is why you thought that there were three of them), symbolising Jesus’ kingship, priesthood, and the fact that he is going to die.

Then, as we worry about whether these dolts are going to go back and tell Herod how to find (and kill) the little child, we are reminded once more that God is in charge, for they were “warned in a dream”, and return home by another route. A new light shines in our world.

Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God (January 1st)

January 4, 2012 by  
Filed under Gospel Reflections

Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God (January 1st)
Readings: Numbers 6: 22-27
Psalm 67: 2-3, 5-6, 8
Galatians 4: 4-7
Luke 2: 16-21
New Year’s Day comes next, and as you face 2012, with whatever mixture of eagerness and anxiety is yours, you will find much to ponder on in the readings for the feast; and you will see that what matters is that God (we do not know how) is at work in our world.

The first reading is the beautiful priestly blessing that is intended to accompany Israel in its desert wanderings. Each of the three parts of the blessing is longer than its predecessor. It moves from “YHWH bless you and keep you” to “YHWH lift up his face upon you and be gracious to you”, to “YHWH lift up his face upon you and give you peace”, with some untranslatable Hebrew puns on the way, all culminating in the great promise “and I shall bless them”. This happens, of course, not because of any merit on our part, not because the magic formula has been properly carried out, but simply because God is God.

The psalm picks up this idea of God’s generous blessing: “may God be gracious to us and bless us, and let his face shine upon us” is how it begins; and it ends also with blessing: “may God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him”. Here, of course, the idea is that the praise of God (in response to God’s blessing) goes out beyond Israel to all others who might learn about God from us. That is not a bad idea to take with us into the New Year, better than those dreadfully fragile resolutions made at midnight, and broken by midday.

The second reading for the great feast, coming just after some of the more difficult bits of argument in the Letter to the Galatians, and outlines what it is that God has done in Christ, labouring for our advantage in this broken world of ours. The phrase “the fullness of time” emphasises that God is in charge. The “right time” is when God says so, not when we think the time is ripe. Then Paul puts his finger on the central element of it: “God sent the Son of God”; but the argument is subtly done here, for it is qualified in two ways. First, Jesus is “born of a woman”, in other words a human being just like the rest of us, with all the limitations and ambiguities that implies. Secondly, Jesus is “under the Law”, which Paul in Galatians sees as a temporarily disadvantaged situation, a necessary preliminary if God in Christ is to move us from the status of “slave” to the status of “freeborn son or daughter”. How does this happen? Not through anything that we have achieved, but through the “Spirit of the Son”; and the function of that Spirit is “to cry out in our hearts, ‘Abba, Father’,” which of course is how Jesus began the prayer he taught his disciples, and how himself prayed in Gethsemane. The upshot is that we are “no longer slaves, but free-born sons and daughters, and therefore also heirs, through God”.

The gospel for the solemnity starts with the outsiders (shepherds) rushing off to witness the appearance of the baby which God’s messenger has told them about; and it ends with Jesus becoming an insider: “when the eight days had been fulfilled to circumcise him, his name was also called Jesus, which he had been called by the messenger before he had been conceived in the womb”. The reader is already aware, of course, that although Jesus and his parents belong firmly within Judaism, and Luke’s Gospel begins and ends in the Temple, by the end of the story of Acts there has been a sad divorce between Jesus’ followers and the Judaism from which they had emerged. So it is worth noticing what takes place between the beginning and the end of next Sunday’s gospel. First of all, the shepherds’ account causes “wonder”, a sure sign that God is at work. Secondly, Mary “kept all these words, comparing them in her heart”, inviting us likewise to reflect on “these words”. Thirdly the shepherds go off (not, apparently back to their unhappy sheep) “glorifying and praising God over all they had heard and seen, exactly as it was spoke to them”. God is at work here, and we shall best celebrate our new year if we learn to see the signs.

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