23rd Monday in Ordinary Time (II)
Individualism, Moral Policing & Communal Compassion

Readings: 1 Corinthians 5:1-8; Psalm 5; Luke 6:6-11

There’s a way of living the Christian faith that emphasizes individual devotion. My sole concern is my personal relationship with God, or Jesus, or the BVM. I may expand my circle of concern to my immediate family and friends, but that’s about it. Let others take care of themselves. To those who tend towards this approach our readings remind us of the inevitably corporate nature of our Christian faith. Whether we like it or not, whether we are conscious of it or not, the well-being of any one member has its effect on the others. As Paul reminds the Corinthians concerning immorality: even a small amount of yeast is enough to leaven all the dough. And not to help another who is in need even when we are able to is as good as doing harm to that one. Notice how Jesus gives only two options in his reply to the scribes and Pharisees: to do good, or to do evil; to save life, or to destroy it. An authentic Christian life is marked by concern for the other.

There is another extreme – an approach that seems to be very concerned with others and what they do. When I tend towards this approach I make it my business to identify and point out the moral failings of others. I relish the role of self-appointed moral police, much as the scribes and Pharisees do in the gospel today, who watched Jesus to see if he would cure a man on the Sabbath. However, my concern is not so much the well-being of others, as it is to impose my own ideas and opinions upon them. To those who would tend towards this approach, Jesus introduces another way. Notice how he insists on making the man with the withered hand stand in the middle of the synagogue. Why? Is it not so that the scribes’ and Pharisees’ attention might be shifted from the demands of the Law to the suffering person? Is it not so that their reactions might change from righteous indignation to compassion?

How might we grow in communal compassion today?

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
Springs in the Desert

Reading: Isaiah 35:4-7; Psalm 146:7-10. R. v. 1; James 2:1-5; Mark 7:31-37

Water gushes in the desert, streams in the wasteland, the scorched earth becomes a lake, the parched land springs of water.

These words from our first reading bring me back once again to our Silk Road trip. I’m reminded in particular of the night spent in an Uighur household in the city of Turpan (or Tulufan). It was the first time I’d spent the night under a canopy of grape-vines dripping with ripe fruit. It was also the first time I’d slept next to a whole Uighur family – father, mother and two little children – after an enjoyable evening of feasting, singing and dancing.

By right these firsts should not have taken place. Why? Because Turpan is situated in the deadly dryness and lonely isolation of the Gobi. And yet, where there should have been only barrenness and desolation, there was instead fertility and companionship. Indeed, what we experienced in Turpan were streams in the wasteland, and in the parched land springs of water.

All this was made possible by two marvels: the marvel of human ingenuity and diligence by which the Karetz irrigation system was built to bring life-giving water from faraway glaciers into each household in Turpan; and the marvelous warmth of Uighur hospitality, so generously expressed in food and lodging, entertainment and fellowship.

Today our readings speak of deserts other than the Gobi. We encounter, in the gospel, the desolation of one who can neither hear nor speak. And even more terrible than physical deafness and dumbness is the suffering that results from prejudice. In the second reading, James speaks of the kind of social prejudice that would favor the wealthy and the well-dressed, the good-looking and the sweet-smelling. And we may just as easily think of other expressions of prejudice. Do we not, for example, prefer to hang-out with the in-crowd, the hip and the happening, the hot and the cool? And by doing so, are we not effectively muting the voices of those we so cruelly leave out, even as we render ourselves deaf to what they might be struggling to say?

Still, in the middle of these deserts, God wishes to bring streams and springs of living water. Jesus makes the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak. But more marvelous than the miracle of physical healing is the spiritual and social healing that God can bring about when we allow God’s spirit to work in and through us: the Spirit of compassion that empathizes with the lonely, the Spirit of charity that feeds the hungry and clothes the naked, the Spirit of justice that gives a hearing to the voiceless.

What desert does God wish to water through us this day?

22nd Saturday in Ordinary Time (II)
Fools for the Sake of Christ

Readings: 1 Corinthians 4:6-15; Psalm 145; Luke 6:1-5

I’ve sometimes (often?) been struck by how easy it is for conflicts to erupt between otherwise very good and God-fearing people. I don’t mean the kind of conflicts that result from obvious selfishness. I have in mind, for example, the kind of disagreements that occur when people come together to work for the common good. I think for example of church groups, committees and communities. Everyone seems to be trying to do the right thing, the best thing. But all too often, legitimate differences of opinion very quickly escalate into heated arguments, arguments lead to the formation of opposing factions, and factionalism festers into long-lasting grudges and resentments. Groups break up. People become disillusioned and unhappy. What begins as an attempt to render some service to the community ends in a painful wound infecting the rest of the Body.

Paul seems to be addressing a similar problem in the Corinthian church. We might learn from what is found in today’s readings. First, as Paul reminds the Corinthians, we need to keep to what is written. We have all received a Tradition of teaching that comes from Christ. This is our common heritage. Whatever legitimate differences we might have should have to do with differing interpretations of what we have received. We do not make things up on our own.

Something more is required. Instead of being filled with our own importance, we need also to be humble enough to entertain the possibility that others’ opinions, though different from ours, may also be legitimate interpretations of Christ’s teaching. In fact, it may even be possible that their interpretation is more appropriate, closer to the truth, than ours in the given circumstances. Consider, for example, the incident in the gospel. Although Jesus and his disciples seem at first to be breaking the law concerning Sabbath observance, they are actually observing it in a deeper sense. And Jesus himself is able to find a precedent for his disciples’ actions in the practice of King David.

Finally, two phrases in today’s readings require particular attention. To be faithful to the received teaching means less the keeping of a static legal code as it does being faithful to the crucified and risen Christ. For the Son of Man is master of the Sabbath. As such, we need to allow the living Christ to challenge us when our observance of the received teaching threatens to become dead and static. We may, for example, be drawn to listen to and empathize with others before making judgments, because we wish to know what Christ is saying to us through them. Of course, by doing this we may seem to become less sure of ourselves. But that is for the best. The Pharisees were very sure of themselves. Yet they were also surely wrong. In contrast, our tentativeness and eagerness to listen can be one way in which we are called to imitate Paul’s example, one way in which we can be fools for the sake of Christ.

How can we better work together in ways that build up the Body of Christ?

Feast of the Birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Chosen Together

Reading: Romans 8:28-30; Psalm 12; Matthew 1:1-23

Reflections on the topic of vocation often emphasize the personal aspect. And rightly so. God calls each one uniquely, intimately, from the mother’s womb. And yet as we celebrate the birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the readings emphasize yet another aspect of God’s call. God not only calls personally, but also communally.

How does salvation come from heaven to earth? How does Jesus come to be born? How does God come to be with us? We know well the personal aspect to this answer. The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary… And she conceived of the Holy Spirit… Yet, today, our readings speak to us not so much about Mary’s momentous yes, as they do about God’s lengthy and patient preparation for the coming of His Son. Boring and unnecessary though it may seem, the genealogy in the gospel reminds us that Mary’s yes comes at the end of a long process, a long history of relationship between God and God’s people. This is not a history of pure brilliance, but of both light and shadow, of both submission and rebellion. It’s a mixed history – peopled by both saints and sinners – better yet, by individuals who are both saints and sinners. And yet, as Paul insists, it is by turning everything to their good that God cooperates with all those who love him.

Could it be that we only grow in the sense of our individual personal vocations – lay, religious, clerical or others – to the extent that we learn to appreciate our vocation as a people? Could efforts expended in this regard be a crucial way in which to address the apparent vocation crisis that we are facing?

As we celebrate the birthday of our Blessed Mother, how can we grow in the consciousness that we are all called to be true images of Christ our elder brother, sharers in the glory of God’s Son?

22nd Thursday in Ordinary Time (II)
Christian Foolishness

Reading: 1 Corinthians 3:18-23; Psalm 24; Luke 5:1-11

How does one even begin to understand what Paul speaks about in the first reading? Are Christians really called to be foolish? And what does it mean anyway, to be foolish?

It helps that the foolishness of which Paul speaks is demonstrated in the gospel. It’s the foolishness by which Jesus chooses to board the boat of failed fishermen. It’s the same foolishness which leads Jesus to ask those fishermen to put out into the deep and to fish in broad daylight. And it’s also the same foolishness that sees those fishermen acceding to Jesus' request and that impels them to leave everything and follow him.

Whether one is foolish or wise can be judged according to how one makes decisions. What considerations and criteria are taken into account? What takes precedence and priority? But the world often presents us with different priorities than those of Christ. Is this not why Christian decisions can often seem foolish in the eyes of the world? Is this not why we often experience tension when we have important choices to make?

The grace we need is that spoken of in the psalm: clean hands and pure heart – so that we may desire and act according to the things of God – the values of Christ – above all other things.

How foolish or wise are we in the eyes of the world? In the eyes of God?