Fourth Sumday of Lent

Every time I hear the Gospel narrative of the prodigal son, I am struck by the nearness of both of the sons behaviors. I can see in myself the tendency to be sometimes callous if I am not careful, and to focus only on myself without realizing the impact to others. I can also see in myself the tendency toward vain self-righteous indignation sometimes when I am feeling sorry for myself. Both of these are two of humanities most common foibles, and both of the sons in this narrative display these things brilliantly.

The youngest son, who we always seem to focus on most, perhaps because his actions are so overtly self-centered and immoral demonstrates very clearly just how callous we can be. He asks for his share of his inheritance, which in the culture of the time was like saying to his father that he didn’t want to have to wait any longer for him to die, so just cough up the money now. I can’t even imagine how his father must have felt. Yet he complies with his sons wishes and gives him what he asks for – fathers do that, including our Father in Heaven. They give to us in the hope that we will be happy, and that perhaps we will be productive. Yet this is not always the case, sometimes, like the younger son in our narrative we squander their gifts to us, and go far astray from what they have taught us.

Yet, there is always hope in any fathers heart that his child will come back to him and be reconciled. He is always ready to greet them and welcome them home when they make even the slightest effort. He simply wants his child back and to bring him home. This is not predicated on judgement, because the humbling act of their returning is sufficient for the moment. The lessons to be imparted will come in time.

The other side of the coin to this is observed in the older son, who feels he has been cheated because he has seen how his brother the more overt transgressor has been greeted with compassion and merciful love. He thinks this compassionate response somehow cheapens what he has with his father. That he is somehow more deserving of reward. Yet he does not realize that the reward is already there, he has been in unity with his father that whole time and their love remains strong, which should be reward enough for anyone. The consistent closeness is the reward.

When we sin, and separate ourselves from our Father in Heaven, his desire and hope is that we come back to him, no matter what we have done. If we approach in humility and with true repentance, then we have learned, and He will welcome us home joyfully. If we are fortunate enough that we have never left His company, we should rejoice ourselves each and every day. Yet we should do this in such a way that we are careful not be too self-congratulating, but with humility and always with a vigilant eye toward any vanity on our part.

In this Lenten season, we have much to consider in our own self-examination so that we too can either rejoice in being able to return to the love of our Father, or be grateful that we have been able to remain with Him.

Apostolic authority and Succession

When we discuss Apostolic Succession, and the authority granted not only to Jesus’ Apostles, as well as to those who would come after them, it is crucial to our understanding to look upon this with a keen eye toward context. The biblical content, and indeed the very phrasing that our Lord used was predicated on the knowledge of the audience being addressed, and the accommodations of speech made factoring in the common knowledge and customs of the time. We need to remember the letters, or ”small books” that comprise the bible, since that is what the word bible actually means, were written by men who were steeped in the knowledge of the Jewish faith and customs they grew up with. This includes also the words of Jesus himself. He did not find it necessary to delve into what would have been considered to be both redundant, and superfluous commentary since his audience, both Jew and likely gentile would likely have been aware of the practical assumptions made in conversation and interactions based on pervasive social and cultural norms.

With all this said, when Jesus commissioned the twelve, to go out and to heal, and forgive sins, and to drive out demons (John 20:21-23), this would have been seen as the acts of those to whom authority had been granted. This is also true of how those twelve were addressed in closed and intimate conversation. Jesus had many disciples, which simply means students, but he only had the twelve Apostles, which denotes someone who has been given a mission. In particular, when Jesus told Simon Peter that upon him, as the rock which his new name denoted, he would build His Church (Matthew 16:18-19), this would have been viewed as a unique and significant role of leadership within His Church, from the viewpoint of the people and the other Apostles.

These roles would also have been seen by the people as enduring. Just as the Levitical priestly roles were passed down, it would have been assumed that men would eventually die, and that they would have successors appointed who would carry on the same work (Acts 1:20-26, 2 Timothy 2:2, Titus 1:5, 1 Timothy 3:1-7), and with the same granted authority passed on by conveyance of the Spirit through imposition of hands and anointing. Jesus himself said plainly that no one knew the time of place when all things would come to fulfillment, not even the Son, only the Father, so he certainly would have taken into account the likely necessity of the roles of the Apostles continuing through an undefined period of time.

Jesus also was very deliberate in choosing his audience for certain discussions. He did not grant the people full knowledge of the parables that He spoke. He did not create a common authority to forgive sins, or heal, or drive out demonic influence. Nor did he publicly proclaim to the people to perform the breaking of the bread or the offering of the cup, these instructions to fully understand and do these things were given only to his Apostles, something that would have spoken clearly in terms of His intent to anyone of the time. Additionally, the timing of the instructions that he gave pertaining to the celebration of the Eucharist in particular was certainly chosen with care, He gave this commission at the last meal He would share with his Apostles, which would have driven home the paramount nature of His instructions and by whom they would be carried out.

Like so many things as we read through scripture, it is both inaccurate and imprecise to try to understand its content without due deference to contextual influence. This make it all the more critical that as we try to understand the intentions of our Lords teachings, we do not get allow ourselves to fall into bad practice and assume that the translated words can be viewed without cultural and social understanding. It is equally important to look at not only the translated text, but also the accounts in the original language in which it was recorded, and factor this into our understanding.

Third Sunday of Lent

There is a certain familiarity with our Gospel that really touched me today. I don’t consider myself to be a true gardener, but I do love having tree’s in my yard that serve a practical purpose, and in North Carolina we can grow just about any kind of fruit tree, including figs. A few years ago, I happened to purchase a small fig tree that I thought could be a good source of shade in the yard, as well as some fresh fruit. It was quite tiny when I got it, and when planted in my yard it did grow, though not as I had hoped for. It remained skinny and scraggly for several years and did not produce much in the way of figs. My initial thought was to simply cut it down and try something else in the same spot. I was planning to do just that, when I happened across an article about how to care for these tree’s and realized I had not really done my part in caring for this scrawny plant, so I took just a few steps to see what would happen. I put down a bit of compost and loosened the soil around it a bit to allow for better drainage, and in short order I noticed a marked change in the little tree. It became fuller and actually had quite a few figs on it even though it was later in the growing season. It simply responded to some basic care, and being given a bit of time. I still have that tree in my yard, and to this day it produces more figs than we can use (if anyone needs any fresh figs, let me know).

The lesson of time, patience, and a little care were not lost on me. It actually made me realize how often in my own life I have been blessed by others who had not written me off despite my shortcomings and instead guided me with patience and kindness and allowed me to benefit and grow from their influence. This is especially true of our Lord who must have found me exasperating at times in my ignorance and stubbornness, and yet who exercised the greatest patience with me, and even blessed me with His extra care because He knew I needed a bit more attention to grow and prosper.

In this Lenten season, as we prepare ourselves through repentance and self-examination, something we might ponder is how well we are caring for those around us who we may sometimes find difficult or frustrating. This is one of the challenges that we need to be keenly aware of as followers of Christ. It’s very easy to spend time with those we enjoy, but it comes very hard sometimes to dedicate time to those in our lives who we do not find so easy. Yet this makes it all the more important for us to focus on these people, because they are Gods children too, and He expects us to care for them as He does. This is the call. In showing loving patience to them, we show our love and respect for Him who thought enough of each of us to die on the cross for us – no exceptions. The saddest thing on this earth is someone who is truly left alone and without care, it goes against God’s will, and it defies our truest nature to allow this. If we want to pick a truly meaningful Lenten resolution (it’s not too late to change or add to yours), consider making an effort to reach out to someone whose life you have not touched in some time. You may be pleasantly surprised at the eventual results.

Second Sunday of Lent

What does it mean to be transfigured? The definition I looked up said it is to be transformed in a glorified or spiritual way. To take on a new appearance that reflects divine or spiritual beauty. For most of my life, I assumed that this was something that was reserved for Jesus alone, just as we hear about in today’s Gospel. Yet as I have gotten older and been able to witness what are sometimes truly amazing changes within people I have encountered, I am not so sure my original assumption was completely correct if we take the definition literally. While we may not radiate the same glorified form as our Lord – amazing transformation that can be witnessed by others is still possible.

It’s true that we all go through changes as we live our lives, and not all of them for the better. We can even make some progress in our development as people, and as followers of Christ, that while good, are not quite on the level of what would be considered a transformative. Yet, in a precious minority of instances, radical transformation can occur. When I think of Saint Francis of Assisi, or Saint Augustine, and how each spent their youth I see evidence for this kind of change. To go from truly dark places in life, completely focused on things of this earth, and to then burst forth as new creations born of Spirit so that flesh and earthly desires are no longer of much importance is such a complete metamorphosis that it requires grace as its catalyst.

No saint or sinner can will this to happen, no internal fortitude or strength is sufficient to trigger this kind of transformation; if we think we are so endowed that we can do this without God’s intervention, we are arrogant to the point of foolishness. Instead, we need to humble ourselves profoundly and completely, and express our deepest longing to God to grant us spiritual movement to leverage the side of ourselves born of water and the Spirit and take us beyond what our fleshly inclinations so desperately and erringly cling to. In this season of Lent, the time is perfect to pursue this grace of transformation. To use this time of penance and preparation to express a desire to God for the kind of spiritual radiance that can demonstrate to others what is possible through prayer, love of God, and generously granted grace that we embrace with our whole selves.

When Peter, James, and John saw our Lord in his radiant transfigured form, we hear that their first reaction was fear, and perhaps so, since they had never witnessed anything like this before. I suspect this was coupled also with awe and wonder. To see the glory of God so closely and personally manifest within their teacher had to be both humbling, but also inspiring. They gained strength and confidence from this for the time to come when they would witness Jesus’ crucifixion. Our Lord knew this experience and seed of change within them would be needed.

Like any good students Jesus’ three disciples sought to emulate their master in all things, perhaps even those heaven born. We too should look upon this time of Lent as transformative and pray for the grace of experiencing this in a truly radical way.

First Sunday of Lent

There has never been a time when God has not watched over and cared for us. From the days of creation, to the time of the oppression that the people of Israel endured and were rescued from, to the days of Jesus time here on earth, right up to this very day – He is ever watchful and loving.

In our earliest days He was stern and commanding because we were young and rebellious and were easily led down wrong paths. We had no roots in the land. Gradually though, we grew as a people, through His grace, and became more than nomadic tribes, we took root in Israel. We learned and worked to educate others about Israels God. We stopped wondering, and we built our homes, cities, and places of worship. We matured and grew and sought knowledge of our Creator.

In his time, our Lord came to us in our own fleshly manifestation, and walked among us, taught us, healed our bodies, and gave his own for our sake so that our souls might be healed and we could be reconciled with our Father in heaven. He took the suffering that should have been ours upon himself and gave everything of Himself for us so that nothing was left. He did this out of love.

Yet with all this history of love and caring, we sometimes doubt. We think that the God of the universe who did all this for us, somehow may not understand us and what we deal with in our daily struggles. It doesn’t make sense if we really think about it. This is especially true in light of todays Gospel. There is literally nothing that the devil did not try to get our Lord to give in to temptation. The narrative doesn’t fully do justice to what our Lord endured and stood fast against. We all know that Satan has many means at his disposal to try to tempt us, and he certainly did not spare effort when he encountered our Lord in human form. This, however, is the whole point, he tried everything and failed. Our Lord would not give in to sin, and yet experienced all the powerful temptations we do because He was one of us in the flesh. This should give us a great deal of confidence in both his understanding of all that we are subject to, and also in His mercy because he has been through it and knows how difficult it can be to remain unscathed. Difficult, yes, but not impossible, He proved that as he was both God and man. He gave us a model to follow, a success to take confidence in, and an unwavering love so that we are to be assured of his forgiveness for each of us when we stumble and come to him in repentance and humility. No temptation is not understood, no sin is beyond His forgiveness, and no person beyond his loving gift of redemption.

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

If there is one thing that gives most people a sinking feeling, it is when we arrive somewhere and find that we are unprepared. This was likely doubly true for the virgins in our Gospel today, since not only did they have to scramble to try to find the oil that they lacked for their lamps, but on top of that, they were shut out from the wedding celebration because they were late arriving back. They found themselves shut out of what they had been looking forward to because of their own lack of preparation.

Very often in scripture, a wedding celebration or marriage in an of itself are used to describe the joy of establishing an intimate relationship, or to convey a sense of deep intimacy itself. The metaphor is excellent in both cases because what we seek with our Lord, and what He seeks with us, is the same level of joy and intimacy that is found in the context of marriage. How tragic then it would be for us to experience the same sorrow and despair of being shut out from that kind of experience the way the virgins in the Gospel narrative were. The last thing we want to do is find the door locked, and to hear from our Lord, that He does not know us.

The key to building any relationship is time spent, and experiences shared. It is no different in building and maintaining a relationship with God. We do this by spending time, and by talking to him. When we attend Mass, we worship and communicate together, and we receive Him through the Eucharist which is a deeply intimate and reverent Sacramental bonding. When we spend time in prayer by ourselves, with only our Lord present with us, we have the opportunity to share everything that is going on in our lives without the need to hold anything back. This does not need to be anything formal in terms of prayer. There is a time and place for formal recitation of the prayers we know so well, but there is also a time for simply having a conversation like we would with anyone who is truly close to us and knows us. There is nothing off limits in what we can share because our Lord knows our minds and hearts. We can truly tell Him about anything that is going on in our lives. He wants to hear all this from us, just as any parent wants to hear what their children are up to. It doesn’t matter if they know the circumstance already, it is still good to hear it from us as a way of sharing and connecting. This is what our Lord longs for from each of us, and this is how He will truly know us when the day and hour arrives when we will knock at the door.

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time

I think that there are few things that our Lord found more contemptable than hypocrisy. He repeatedly called out the leaders among the people and admonished their conduct because He found precisely this to be so prevalent among them. They preached one message of how to live in accord with God’s law to the people and then did not follow the precepts of the law themselves.

The thing is, it’s no different today, it is incredibly easy for any of us to become a bit too full of ourselves at times and to forget that we are accountable to someone who is far greater than any of us. No matter who we are, it is imperative that we remember that we are here to serve one another, in particular by our example of how we live and conduct ourselves according to Gods teaching. We can never expect others to truly believe us to be people of faith and followers of Christ when we don’t live out His message. Words without proper action, prayers without sincerity, and evangelizing without living out the example, are sure not only to fail, but also to damage others by further burdening them with negative examples of what a Christian life is supposed to be. This simply pushes them further away from the salvific message.

Our Lord did not come to be served, but to serve others, even to where He gave up his own life. If we are to truly follow Him, then death is part of that path. We are called to die to self, and to live for Him and for His children who are all around us. This is not a grim prospect at all, it is the most freeing and meaningful existence conceivable. To no longer live so that we are obsessed with ourselves, but rather place our focus on others out of love is the most freeing experience we can have in this life. When we live so as to give of ourselves, we will know that with each action we inch closer to true intimacy with our Creator, and will find the peace and fulfillment that has perhaps been eluding us thus far.