Thursday in the 9th Week of Ordinary Time (I)
Human Dignity in the Concrete
Readings: Tobit 6:10-11; 7:1bcde, 9-17; 8:4-9a; Psalm 128:1-2, 3, 4-5; Mark 12:28-34
As I see it, at least two things stand in the way of our reflecting more deeply upon the gospel passage for today. The first is familiarity. We all know the first and second commandment very well. Or at least we think we do. We all know we are supposed to love God and to love our neighbour. Who needs another reminder? Yet this sense of familiarity may well be an illusion, an illusion that is linked with a second obstacle: generality. Why might we think we know what Jesus is talking about even if we don’t? Isn't it because we sometimes tend to think only in general? In general, we know we have to love God and our neighbour. Yet true love manifests itself in the specific, in concrete actions, or else it is not love. I know, in general, that I have to love my neighbour, but I can quite easily forget that that means not overloading my domestic help with work, for example, or taking the time to listen to someone who needs to talk.
Which is why the ongoing story of Tobit and his family in the first reading is so useful. Today, in particular, it focuses our attention on one way in which love needs to be made manifest. It brings to mind yet another key principle in the Social Teaching of the Church: respect for the dignity of the human person. It does this at several levels. At a first level, we find a concern for the rights of a person as prescribed by the law. So Raguel tells Tobias: as prescribed by the Book of Moses, she is given to you, heaven itself decrees she shall be yours. Important as it is, however, the law is not everything. For even if Raguel may keep the letter of the law by letting Tobias marry Sarah, both he and Tobias might still infringe the spirit of the law by treating Sarah as a piece of property to be handed over from one person to another. And one may well wonder if this was how Sarah’s seven previous husbands met their doom. Could they have fallen prey to the worst of demons by failing to respect the human dignity of Sarah, by treating her as a piece of property to be used and discarded at whim?
Isn’t this why we are quite naturally impressed with the prayer of Tobias? I do not take my sister for any lustful motive, I do it in singleness of heart. This, at last, is the only firm foundation upon which a marital relationship, indeed any truly human relationship, can be built: a mutual love and respect of equals in the sight of God. Which leads our reflection on to the deepest level. Ultimately, respect for the human dignity of another is but an expression of one’s love and respect for God. For, as we were reminded only recently, it is in God’s image and likeness that we are all created. In the first reading then, especially in the example of the relationship between Tobias and Sarah, we see an image of what it looks like when people love God and love their neighbour. We also see the blessings that can result. Indeed, blessed are those who fear the Lord.
How are we being reminded to respect the dignity of God in others today?
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Wednesday in the 9th Week of Ordinary Time (I)
God of the Living
Readings: Tobit 3:1-11a, 16-17a; Psalm 25:2-3, 4-5ab, 6 and 7bc, 8-9; Mark 12:18-27
He is God, not of the dead, but of the living…
It’s easy to mistake the exchange between Jesus and the Sadducees in the gospel as a purely academic discussion about the possibility of life in the hereafter. It’s easy to dismiss it as being of little relevance to us since, as followers of Christ, we all already believe in the resurrection from the dead. We profess as much when we recite the creed at Mass every Sunday. Yet we might well wonder at the content as well as the extent of our belief.
What does it really mean to believe in the resurrection? What good does it do for a person who does believe? What difference does it make in such a person’s life? Are the benefits of such a belief only to be enjoyed after we leave our physical existence in this world? Or should belief in the resurrection not have an impact primarily in the way we live our lives in the here and now.
If there is one gift that belief in the resurrection brings it is hope. And our first reading presents us with two images of what hope might look like.
Both Tobit and Sarah are in dire straits. Life has not been easy for them. Rather, at this point in the story, each of them is moved to think that it is better to die than to live in the face of trouble that has no pity. Indeed, Sarah is driven even to the brink of suicide. Yet, in the midst of their troubles, each one somehow finds the strength to pray a prayer of lamentation. Even as the last rays of hope seem to fade from the horizon, even as they are engulfed by the darkness of night, they continue to turn to God in prayer, if only to express what is in the painful depths of their broken hearts. And we are told that the prayer of each of them found favour before the glory of God… God hears them and sends Raphael, a name which means God has healed, to bring remedy to them both…
Isn’t this what belief in the resurrection looks like? It looks like people who continue to cling to God even when all seems lost, people who hope against all hope, people who lift up their souls to God in the midst of affliction. This is the same hope that Jesus himself demonstrated when he walked the road to Calvary, and when he cried out from the Cross: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Rather than a purely academic exercise, belief in the resurrection has very practical implications for daily living. The hope that it contains spurs us on to keep on keeping on even when all seems hopeless, to continue to face the challenges of daily Christian living even when all we feel like doing is to lie down and die. For our hope is in a God, not of the dead, but of the living.
How are we being invited to renew our belief in the resurrection today?
God of the Living
Readings: Tobit 3:1-11a, 16-17a; Psalm 25:2-3, 4-5ab, 6 and 7bc, 8-9; Mark 12:18-27
He is God, not of the dead, but of the living…
It’s easy to mistake the exchange between Jesus and the Sadducees in the gospel as a purely academic discussion about the possibility of life in the hereafter. It’s easy to dismiss it as being of little relevance to us since, as followers of Christ, we all already believe in the resurrection from the dead. We profess as much when we recite the creed at Mass every Sunday. Yet we might well wonder at the content as well as the extent of our belief.
What does it really mean to believe in the resurrection? What good does it do for a person who does believe? What difference does it make in such a person’s life? Are the benefits of such a belief only to be enjoyed after we leave our physical existence in this world? Or should belief in the resurrection not have an impact primarily in the way we live our lives in the here and now.
If there is one gift that belief in the resurrection brings it is hope. And our first reading presents us with two images of what hope might look like.
Both Tobit and Sarah are in dire straits. Life has not been easy for them. Rather, at this point in the story, each of them is moved to think that it is better to die than to live in the face of trouble that has no pity. Indeed, Sarah is driven even to the brink of suicide. Yet, in the midst of their troubles, each one somehow finds the strength to pray a prayer of lamentation. Even as the last rays of hope seem to fade from the horizon, even as they are engulfed by the darkness of night, they continue to turn to God in prayer, if only to express what is in the painful depths of their broken hearts. And we are told that the prayer of each of them found favour before the glory of God… God hears them and sends Raphael, a name which means God has healed, to bring remedy to them both…
Isn’t this what belief in the resurrection looks like? It looks like people who continue to cling to God even when all seems lost, people who hope against all hope, people who lift up their souls to God in the midst of affliction. This is the same hope that Jesus himself demonstrated when he walked the road to Calvary, and when he cried out from the Cross: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Rather than a purely academic exercise, belief in the resurrection has very practical implications for daily living. The hope that it contains spurs us on to keep on keeping on even when all seems hopeless, to continue to face the challenges of daily Christian living even when all we feel like doing is to lie down and die. For our hope is in a God, not of the dead, but of the living.
How are we being invited to renew our belief in the resurrection today?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Tuesday in the 9th Week of Ordinary Time (I)
Surprise in the One Box
Readings: Tobit 2:9-14 ; Psalm 112:1-2, 7-8, 9 ; Mark 12:13-17
This reply took them completely by surprise.
As we listen to this well-known passage from Mark’s gospel, perhaps it’ll be fruitful for us to focus our attention first on the surprise of Jesus’ interrogators. It’s not too difficult to figure out the reason for their reaction. Theirs was a very cunning question, one that gave them confidence that they had put Jesus in a tight spot from which there was no escape. It seemed our Lord was caught on the horns of a dilemma. He had only two choices: to say either that it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or that it was not. And either option would have serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences for Jesus. How then did Jesus slip so easily, even effortlessly, out of their trap?
For the Pharisees and Herodians, it would seem that there were, as it were, two boxes. One was marked Caesar and the other was marked self. You could only choose one or the other in which to put your money. And isn’t this one key characteristic of all difficult questions, especially practical, moral and political questions? At this level, there often seem to be two or more boxes among which one has to choose. And to choose one is often to have to forsake another – to deposit a ten-dollar bill in the bank is to be unable to place it in the collection box in church – with often unpleasant consequences for self and for others. How to choose well?
More than simply telling us to continue carefully separating our possessions, our time and our loyalties between different boxes, between Caesar and God, between State and Church, between secular and religious, between material and spiritual, Jesus’ response is surprising because it breaks through our dilemmas by bringing us to another level of reflection. While it may be true that at the level of the practical there are so many boxes to choose from, isn’t it true that at the level of the heart, everything belongs to God? What do we have that does not come ultimately from God? That does not bear the imprint of God’s handiwork? Are we ourselves not made in God’s image and likeness?
Isn’t it the case then that it is only when we are reconciled to this truth, when our hearts our centred on God alone, that we are able gracefully to negotiate the difficult decisions that confront us in daily living? Don’t we see this in the ongoing story of Tobit? Blinded by unfortunate circumstances, ostracized by his own people, finding it difficult even to make ends meet, Tobit continues to be careful not to accept goods that might rightfully belong to someone else. Blind though he is, he is able to discern clearly the appropriate box in which to place the things that come his way. That he can do this on a practical level is a clear sign that in his heart there is only one box in which everything belongs to God. Again, the response to the psalm describes his situation accurately: with a firm heart he trusts in the Lord.
In our hearts how many boxes have we? How is Jesus’ response surprising us today?
Surprise in the One Box
Readings: Tobit 2:9-14 ; Psalm 112:1-2, 7-8, 9 ; Mark 12:13-17
This reply took them completely by surprise.
As we listen to this well-known passage from Mark’s gospel, perhaps it’ll be fruitful for us to focus our attention first on the surprise of Jesus’ interrogators. It’s not too difficult to figure out the reason for their reaction. Theirs was a very cunning question, one that gave them confidence that they had put Jesus in a tight spot from which there was no escape. It seemed our Lord was caught on the horns of a dilemma. He had only two choices: to say either that it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or that it was not. And either option would have serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences for Jesus. How then did Jesus slip so easily, even effortlessly, out of their trap?
For the Pharisees and Herodians, it would seem that there were, as it were, two boxes. One was marked Caesar and the other was marked self. You could only choose one or the other in which to put your money. And isn’t this one key characteristic of all difficult questions, especially practical, moral and political questions? At this level, there often seem to be two or more boxes among which one has to choose. And to choose one is often to have to forsake another – to deposit a ten-dollar bill in the bank is to be unable to place it in the collection box in church – with often unpleasant consequences for self and for others. How to choose well?
More than simply telling us to continue carefully separating our possessions, our time and our loyalties between different boxes, between Caesar and God, between State and Church, between secular and religious, between material and spiritual, Jesus’ response is surprising because it breaks through our dilemmas by bringing us to another level of reflection. While it may be true that at the level of the practical there are so many boxes to choose from, isn’t it true that at the level of the heart, everything belongs to God? What do we have that does not come ultimately from God? That does not bear the imprint of God’s handiwork? Are we ourselves not made in God’s image and likeness?
Isn’t it the case then that it is only when we are reconciled to this truth, when our hearts our centred on God alone, that we are able gracefully to negotiate the difficult decisions that confront us in daily living? Don’t we see this in the ongoing story of Tobit? Blinded by unfortunate circumstances, ostracized by his own people, finding it difficult even to make ends meet, Tobit continues to be careful not to accept goods that might rightfully belong to someone else. Blind though he is, he is able to discern clearly the appropriate box in which to place the things that come his way. That he can do this on a practical level is a clear sign that in his heart there is only one box in which everything belongs to God. Again, the response to the psalm describes his situation accurately: with a firm heart he trusts in the Lord.
In our hearts how many boxes have we? How is Jesus’ response surprising us today?
Monday, June 04, 2007
Monday in the 9th Week of Ordinary Time (I)
Stewards of the Lord’s Vineyard
Stewards of the Lord’s Vineyard
Readings: Tobit 1:3; 2:1a-8; Psalm 112:1b-2, 3b-4, 5-6; Mark 12:1-12
It should be quite clear to anyone open enough to appreciate the truth that we live in a world where there is an enormous gap between the rich and the poor. The best means to narrow that gap is probably a matter for economists and politicians to decide. But as Christians, we might ask ourselves what are the necessary dispositions that might motivate each of us to do our part, however small, in narrowing that gap.
Two principles from the Social Teaching of the Church come to mind, principles which seem to contradict each other. On the one hand, rejecting the Marxist approach, the Church affirms each individual’s right to private property. On the other hand, however, in stark contrast to a purely capitalist approach, the Church also speaks of the universal destination of goods – in other words, the belief that all the good things of this earth are ultimately to be directed to the common good. Obviously, these two principles need to be held in tension if we are to find the right motivation to combat global poverty. But what might such a healthy tension look like? Our readings shed some light on the issue by inviting us to reflect on the meaning of stewardship.
The parable of the vineyard shows us what failure to live the tension can look like. Forgetting that they are merely stewards of the landowner, the tenants manage the vineyard as though it is their own possession. They exclude others from enjoying its fruits. And their greed leads them to violence and murder.
In contrast, the first reading presents us with the story of a man who obviously appreciates what it means to be a steward. Tobit is very conscious of the fact that he belongs to a nation in exile. Even though he is lucky enough to have food on his table, his heart goes out to those who have none. He doesn’t even begin to eat before seeking someone to share his meal. And when he hears about a person who has been murdered and whose corpse has been left in the market place, he leaves his table to give the person the dignity of a decent burial.
Two principles from the Social Teaching of the Church come to mind, principles which seem to contradict each other. On the one hand, rejecting the Marxist approach, the Church affirms each individual’s right to private property. On the other hand, however, in stark contrast to a purely capitalist approach, the Church also speaks of the universal destination of goods – in other words, the belief that all the good things of this earth are ultimately to be directed to the common good. Obviously, these two principles need to be held in tension if we are to find the right motivation to combat global poverty. But what might such a healthy tension look like? Our readings shed some light on the issue by inviting us to reflect on the meaning of stewardship.
The parable of the vineyard shows us what failure to live the tension can look like. Forgetting that they are merely stewards of the landowner, the tenants manage the vineyard as though it is their own possession. They exclude others from enjoying its fruits. And their greed leads them to violence and murder.
In contrast, the first reading presents us with the story of a man who obviously appreciates what it means to be a steward. Tobit is very conscious of the fact that he belongs to a nation in exile. Even though he is lucky enough to have food on his table, his heart goes out to those who have none. He doesn’t even begin to eat before seeking someone to share his meal. And when he hears about a person who has been murdered and whose corpse has been left in the market place, he leaves his table to give the person the dignity of a decent burial.
What is it about Tobit that moves him to do all this, even at the expense of being ridiculed by others? Clearly he could quite easily sit down to enjoy his own meal without being in the least affected by the misfortunes of those around him. Yet his feelings and his actions indicate to us his deep appreciation of the bond between him and the others who live with him in exile. He realizes that theirs is a shared misfortune, that others have a claim on him, on his time, his energy, and his goods. Even more, he also realizes that ultimately all that he is and has belongs not only to him but to God, who always hears the cry of the poor. Tobit’s actions demonstrate that he is someone who knows what it means to be a true tenant of the Lord's vineyard. He is a man who fears the Lord.
Sisters and brothers in a world marked by an obscene contrast between blatant consumerism and abject poverty, how are we being called to be responsible tenants and stewards of the Lord’s vineyard?
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Solemnity of The Most Holy Trinity (C)
God’s Saving Hands
God’s Saving Hands
Readings: Proverbs 8:22-31; Psalm 8:4-5, 6-7, 8-9; Romans 5:1-5; John 16:12-15
Sisters and brothers, the feast we are celebrating today is not easy to understand. We can understand how coffee powder, sugar and creamer can be mixed together to form three-in-one coffee. And we can understand how liquid soap, conditioner and aloe vera can be mixed together to make three-in-one shampoo. But how can God be both one and three at the same time? How can one plus one plus one equal one? Mathematically, it just doesn’t make any sense. But maybe our celebration today is not really about mathematics. Maybe it’s not so important to know how God can be both one and three, as much as it is to ask what God is like, what God does and where and how we can find God.
We all probably feel the need for God from time to time. Yet, in our experience, is it ever easy to find God? Or does it not sometimes seem very difficult? When things are going well, it’s very easy to forget our own need for God. When things are going badly, God may seem very quiet, even when we are crying out desperately for help. And then, there are also times when life seems so ordinary, when nothing seems to be happening, or times when we are just too busy with so many other things to care about God. We may go through the motions of saying our prayers or of going to Mass without actually sensing God’s presence. Where is God in all this? What is God doing? What has this to do with our belief that God is three and one, one in three?
The story is told of a spiritual guru who was walking one day with a few of his disciples along a river. As they strolled and chatted they happened to see a large spider trapped on a branch that had fallen into the water not far from the riverbank. It seemed only a matter of time before the branch would be swept away by the flowing waters and the spider would be lost. Without hesitation, the guru waded into the water and reached out his hand to rescue the spider. But the spider, mistaking the guru’s intentions, promptly bit him on the finger. The guru withdrew his hand in pain. But he did not give up. Once again he stretched out his hand to save the spider. And, once again, it bit him. It was only after suffering several painful bites that the guru finally succeeded in transporting the spider to safety. When he rejoined his disciples, one of them asked him why he was so set on saving the spider even when it was stupid enough to bite the very hand that was trying to rescue it. To which the guru replied, “In biting me the spider was simply acting according to its nature to defend itself. Why should I then not act according to my nature to want to save it?”
In some ways, this story reminds us of our relationship with God. Like the spider, we often find ourselves in trouble. We often find ourselves far away from God and in danger of being swept away by the fast-flowing waters of everyday life. But, in the midst of our trials, God constantly stretches out a hand to rescue us. This is because, like the guru, it is in God’s very nature to want to save us. Like the description of Wisdom in today’s first reading, whether we recognize it or not, God is present everywhere in the world, delighting to be with us and eager to save us from our difficulties.
We see this outstretched hand of God especially in Jesus, the only begotten Son of the Father, the second person of the Trinity. Like the spider in the story, the people in Jesus’ day did not recognize him as the saving hand of God. They felt threatened by him, by the things he said and did, by who he claimed to be, and so they tortured and killed him. And we are not much different are we? Don’t we often also fail to recognize God stretching out God’s hand to us in the various events and people that God sends into our lives? Of course, sometimes God’s hand, God’s blessings, are easily recognized. But haven’t we all also heard of blessings in disguise? Such blessings are difficult to accept, especially at first. We may have heard, for example, how the birth of a handicapped child might turn out to be a blessing in disguise for the parents. But how many of us would find it easy to receive this kind of blessing?
As we heard in the second reading, it is only by faith and through Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, that we can welcome such blessings in our life as gifts from the outstretched hand of God. And we can do this only when we truly believe in the story of Jesus, the story of how the darkness and death of the Cross led Him to the new light and life of the Resurrection. It is only when we cling to our faith in this story that we can learn to boast about looking forward to God’s glory. It is only when we truly believe in Christ, the second person of the Trinity, that we can learn to boast even in our sufferings.
But we do not do this by our own strength. Like the spider in the story, we are too easily threatened by new experiences. If we can learn to recognize the saving hand of God even in our sufferings it is because God teaches us to do so. As we heard in the second reading, the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given to us. This is the Spirit of truth that Jesus speaks about in the gospel, the One who leads us to the complete truth. This is the third person of the Trinity. This is the other hand of God, the one with which the Father reaches into our own hearts, giving us wisdom, courage and strength in our difficulties.
This then is what we are celebrating today. More than a mathematical puzzle of how God can be both one and three, we are celebrating our belief in a God whose very nature is to save. We are celebrating a loving Father who stretches out His saving hand to us, first in Jesus Christ the Son, a hand that we see working especially in the people we meet and the events we encounter in daily life. We are also celebrating a Father who, in the Holy Spirit, stretches out his other hand into the depths of our hearts, teaching us to recognize Him.
Sisters and brothers, how is God the Father stretching out both His saving Hands to you and me today?
We all probably feel the need for God from time to time. Yet, in our experience, is it ever easy to find God? Or does it not sometimes seem very difficult? When things are going well, it’s very easy to forget our own need for God. When things are going badly, God may seem very quiet, even when we are crying out desperately for help. And then, there are also times when life seems so ordinary, when nothing seems to be happening, or times when we are just too busy with so many other things to care about God. We may go through the motions of saying our prayers or of going to Mass without actually sensing God’s presence. Where is God in all this? What is God doing? What has this to do with our belief that God is three and one, one in three?
The story is told of a spiritual guru who was walking one day with a few of his disciples along a river. As they strolled and chatted they happened to see a large spider trapped on a branch that had fallen into the water not far from the riverbank. It seemed only a matter of time before the branch would be swept away by the flowing waters and the spider would be lost. Without hesitation, the guru waded into the water and reached out his hand to rescue the spider. But the spider, mistaking the guru’s intentions, promptly bit him on the finger. The guru withdrew his hand in pain. But he did not give up. Once again he stretched out his hand to save the spider. And, once again, it bit him. It was only after suffering several painful bites that the guru finally succeeded in transporting the spider to safety. When he rejoined his disciples, one of them asked him why he was so set on saving the spider even when it was stupid enough to bite the very hand that was trying to rescue it. To which the guru replied, “In biting me the spider was simply acting according to its nature to defend itself. Why should I then not act according to my nature to want to save it?”
In some ways, this story reminds us of our relationship with God. Like the spider, we often find ourselves in trouble. We often find ourselves far away from God and in danger of being swept away by the fast-flowing waters of everyday life. But, in the midst of our trials, God constantly stretches out a hand to rescue us. This is because, like the guru, it is in God’s very nature to want to save us. Like the description of Wisdom in today’s first reading, whether we recognize it or not, God is present everywhere in the world, delighting to be with us and eager to save us from our difficulties.
We see this outstretched hand of God especially in Jesus, the only begotten Son of the Father, the second person of the Trinity. Like the spider in the story, the people in Jesus’ day did not recognize him as the saving hand of God. They felt threatened by him, by the things he said and did, by who he claimed to be, and so they tortured and killed him. And we are not much different are we? Don’t we often also fail to recognize God stretching out God’s hand to us in the various events and people that God sends into our lives? Of course, sometimes God’s hand, God’s blessings, are easily recognized. But haven’t we all also heard of blessings in disguise? Such blessings are difficult to accept, especially at first. We may have heard, for example, how the birth of a handicapped child might turn out to be a blessing in disguise for the parents. But how many of us would find it easy to receive this kind of blessing?
As we heard in the second reading, it is only by faith and through Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, that we can welcome such blessings in our life as gifts from the outstretched hand of God. And we can do this only when we truly believe in the story of Jesus, the story of how the darkness and death of the Cross led Him to the new light and life of the Resurrection. It is only when we cling to our faith in this story that we can learn to boast about looking forward to God’s glory. It is only when we truly believe in Christ, the second person of the Trinity, that we can learn to boast even in our sufferings.
But we do not do this by our own strength. Like the spider in the story, we are too easily threatened by new experiences. If we can learn to recognize the saving hand of God even in our sufferings it is because God teaches us to do so. As we heard in the second reading, the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given to us. This is the Spirit of truth that Jesus speaks about in the gospel, the One who leads us to the complete truth. This is the third person of the Trinity. This is the other hand of God, the one with which the Father reaches into our own hearts, giving us wisdom, courage and strength in our difficulties.
This then is what we are celebrating today. More than a mathematical puzzle of how God can be both one and three, we are celebrating our belief in a God whose very nature is to save. We are celebrating a loving Father who stretches out His saving hand to us, first in Jesus Christ the Son, a hand that we see working especially in the people we meet and the events we encounter in daily life. We are also celebrating a Father who, in the Holy Spirit, stretches out his other hand into the depths of our hearts, teaching us to recognize Him.
Sisters and brothers, how is God the Father stretching out both His saving Hands to you and me today?
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