The United States has just gone through one of the most tumultuous elections in recent history. Countless people are emotionally battered and bruised on all sides. A small majority of voters feel that they have “won”. For those who were wanting, with their whole being, their candidate to prevail, only to fall short, there are feelings of pain, loss, and maybe even fear with the outcome. Perhaps they are searching social media to discover how this “terrible thing” could have happened. The same media that had fueled their previous optimism! They had invested so much personal energy, and now sense that they have come up empty. The others, “them,” are rejoicing. 

We are trained to win, and to avoid losing at all costs. Where will those who feel defeated look for hope now? Will they turn again to the same less than reliable sources that brought them to believe that their side would, and had to, win, or else their world would fall to pieces? What now?

In the Eighth Chapter of the Gospel of Mark (Mark 8:11-13) Jesus has just recrossed the Sea of Galilee. He has been healing, liberating, and nourishing people’s spirits and bodies. The poor, simple people are beginning to feel that they have not been forgotten and abandoned by God. They have a basis for hope. They feel loved and cared for.

Some Pharisees meet Jesus and confront him. They demand that he produce for them a clear sign from heaven as proof of his legitimacy. They have been continually probing and testing him. Jesus sighs deeply in exasperation (know the feeling?). He responds, “Why does this generation demand a sign? The truth is, no sign shall be given it.” With that, Jesus gets back into the boat to go to the other side.

What credentials could Jesus have produced for those who had wholeheartedly committed themselves to proving that Jesus was a fraud? They wanted to show to all that Jesus was an enemy of the Law, therefore an enemy of the people, and of God. They were blinded by their total focus on the result they desired more than anything. 

Too many people in our time are suffering from depression. Where do we look for reasons to keep moving forward day after day? What do we rely on to lift us and to help us to see that life continues to be worth investing ourselves in? Have we, too, become blinded to all that is around and within us?

God is still alive and well. Jesus’ work of healing and lifting people out of their imposed misery goes on. Goodness is all around us, despite “the facts” that seem to define our world. If we are looking to ground our hope in anything or anyone other than God, we will miss the wonderful signs that fill our lives.

 

 

The narratives of Jesus’ birth in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke were added much later to the story of his life, ministry, teaching, crucifixion and resurrection. Maybe people were wondering about Jesus’ origins. As with everything about the Gospels, these depictions of Jesus’ infancy were not so much about historical facts, but were all about their theological message.

Matthew wanted to make it very clear that Jesus was the Messiah the Israelites had been waiting and hoping for so long. Yet it is the non-Jewish Wise Men from the East who recognize him. His own people, by and large, could not.

Luke’s aim was to show that Jesus belonged to all people, came from a humble background, so it is the shepherds, simple people who, because of their work were not able to keep all the details of Jewish Law, that receive the heavenly message and come to honor this wonderful, newborn baby. The important people missed the opportunity.

The last verse of Luke’s version of Jesus’ birth and childhood (Luke 2:52) notes that Jesus grew in wisdom, maturity, and grace before God and humanity. The mystery of God’s presence, in and through Jesus, is known as the Incarnation. Jesus is the enfleshment of God in human history.There is in him, seamlessly, both the human and the divine – however that can possibly be! But it seems that we have a tendency to think that what is divine in Jesus dominates and diminishes the human dimension.

The God part surely must have been overpowering, right? This isn’t what Christians believe. In the Letter to the Philippians, (Philippians 2:6-11) Paul quotes an ancient Christian hymn that says that the Son emptied himself of any divine advantage and embraced our humanity fully, from conception through death and beyond. Jesus is exactly like us, temptations and all, except that we sin (Hebrews 4:15). 

We grow and develop. Jesus grew and developed, like us, over time, little by little. He grew in wisdom, which is much more than knowledge. Wisdom is a gift of the Holy Spirit, given to those who are open to learn from their experiences and sufferings.

Jesus matured, which is more than just growing older. His body developed and changed, as did he mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. He outgrew childhood and childishness. His ability to respond augmented – even his ability to respond to God.

Jesus advanced in grace before God and humanity. His ability to welcome and incorporate Abba-God’s inspirations became more and more acute. And all this showed in the way he interacted with others. They could recognize something grace-full about him.

Jesus grew. We grow. This means that we have the same capacities as Jesus to become more and more fully who God desires us to be. We just need to let God take the lead. Then we, too, will grow in wisdom, maturity, and grace. And it will show.

 

Herod the Great was expert at eliminating multiple enemies, or imagined rivals, especially among his relatives. He knew how to play the political game, ingratiating himself with Rome, and so got himself designated as king of Palestine, even though he was not Jewish, but Idumean. The Idumeans had been conquered by a Jewish king, John Hyrcanus (125 BC), and forced to choose between adopting the Jewish religion and customs, or to leave their homeland. Most Idumeans chose to stay, which meant they went along, in some way, with the demand to accept Jewish practices.

Herod was scheming, vicious, and power-mad. The story of the slaughter of the infant males recounted in the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 2:1-18) depicts well his ruthless desire to hold onto power at any cost. He died in 4 BC. In his will, he divided his territory between three of his surviving sons, and bequeathed a few cities to a daughter. Herod Antipas became Tetrarch of the regions of Galilee (west and South of the Sea of Galilee) and Perea (east of the Jordan River). Antipas ruled these separated territories from 4 BC until his exile to Gaul in 39 AD. Herod Antipas was the Herod referred to during Jesus’ adult life and ministry.

Antipas wasn’t as monstrous as his father, but he was a schemer and did put aside his first wife in order to marry Herodias, the wife of his relative, Herod Philip (not to be confused with Antipas’s half-brother Philip). When John the Baptizer forcefully confronted him for this despicable act (although common among rulers), Antipas had John arrested and imprisoned. Herodias plotted, and succeeded, in having John beheaded in revenge for his audacity to dare question her status and welfare. Antipas cared more about saving face, than about saving John’s life.

Herod Antipas, like his notorious father, was surrounded by a cadre of followers, officials – those who always are drawn to power. These are the Herodians mentioned in the Gospels. Their main interest was to hold on to their own comfortable positions by doing whatever they could to keep Herod happily ruling. Of course, they were sensitive to any possible problems, kept their ears and eyes open for trouble, and reported everything to Herod. Their very presence was a deterrent to those who might be considering refusal to cooperate, or outright rebellion.

In the Gospel of Luke (Luke 9:7-9) Herod has had reports about Jesus, his teaching and his powerful works among the people. He wonders who this is, and most importantly, is he a threat to me. His spies tell him what the people are saying about Jesus: he’s John the Baptizer returned from the dead (thus his miraculous powers); Elijah returned to announce the imminent Day of God’s intervention on behalf of Israel; one of the ancient prophets who has come back to call Israel to fidelity to God… Herod knows that he has disposed of John, and dismisses talk of “ancient prophets.” Religion wasn’t a value or of interest to him personally. But this man is stirring up the “peasants.” He wants to “see” this Jesus for himself, so he can size him up, see what he’s really about.

The truth is Herod doesn’t want to see Jesus. He wants to see if this rabble rouser is a problem that he needs to take care of. This line from the Gospel caught my attention this time. Do I, do we, truly want to see Jesus, who he really is, not what we want him to be, not what others (in church?) have told us he is? What if Jesus isn’t what we’ve thought him to be? Do we only want to see the Jesus we’ve become comfortable with? 

It’s too easy to paint Jesus, make statues of Jesus, use some image of Jesus to justify our actions. Jesus is, and always will be, more than we can ever capture in our minds or imaginations. Perhaps we need to be a bit more careful around the mystery of Jesus. He’s not this, or that, but more and less than what we want or imagine him to be. We can better come to see who he is simply by hanging around him for a long time, through meditating on the Scriptures, especially the Gospels.

Wise people say that becoming aware of whatever is moving us within is a first step to growth or other types of change. Is this movement helping us to be more attentive to others, more loving, better human beings, or not? Being conscious of what’s going on inside us can help to catch tendencies either to turning our focus back on ourselves, or outward toward those around us. Believe it or not, it’s not always easy to tell, because our outward focus may be an attempt to have others notice us. See how good she/he is!  or See how bad she/he is!

From our earliest moments, we want to be seen, noticed, recognized as special. It’s natural. Having others acknowledge us in some concrete way gives us a sense of connection and importance. This informs us that we exist. But, as we grow, this seeking attention might become a barrier to maturing. 

With so many mass killings today, especially in the United States, the perpetrator too often has been a victim of bullying. Others have not been able to accept and value their differences. The message they receive is, “You are not like us. You are strange. You don’t belong.” “You don’t matter.”  They come to such a desperate place inside, that knowing that they will almost certainly be killed is less important than having their name and photo on the front page of the newspaper. They will have finally done something that others cannot ignore. They will be recognized as having done something BIG.

The Sufi Masters, those desert mystics from the Islamic tradition, were said to have the ability to read a person’s character in that person’s face. What they saw in someone’s countenance was a person’s habitual way to attract attention, be valued, be seen as special –this is who I am. The problem is that this behavior didn’t flow from the person’s inner self, precious and embraced by God. It was an attempt to prove one’s goodness, worthiness, identity. Ego at work!

It can be a spiritual practice to stop, examine, and question what we are doing. Where is the impulse to do this coming from? God? Our desire to be recognized as good, right, important, noteworthy, outstanding, a someone? My personal favorite is knowledgeable.

About two-thirds of the seventh chapter of the Gospel of Mark focuses on what true religious practice looks like. Jesus does this by contrasting the behavior and teaching of some of the Pharisees and Scribes with a simpler, truer and more straightforward way. (Simple is not the same as easy.) In the Gospels the Pharisees, Scribes, Sadducees and Elders are frequently presented as opposing Jesus, his way of living and his teaching. What is Jesus’ complaint? What is it saying to us?

On top of the Torah, over centuries, those who studied these five books (known as “The Law”), tried to spell out the details and implications of what is written. This is how they ended up with 613 commandments – much beyond the Ten Words God spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai. These were first passed on as an oral tradition. So far, so good – at least as intentions go. The experts just wanted the people to be holy. But who could possibly follow all the little sub-points extracted from the Law? Only those who knew them and were well-off enough to live independently. This created a class system based on religious practice = the Holy and the Sinners.

Jesus comes along, accepts and befriends “sinners,” and presents them with an image of God who is Merciful Love, instead of Law-enforcing Judge. Jesus also reduces all those commandments (human rules) to love of God, love of neighbor, and love of self. Do this and you have fulfilled God’s requirements. No wonder there were clashes with those who clung to the 613!

When those who considered themselves in good standing with God confronted Jesus about some of his disciples, who had failed to properly wash their hands before eating, according to the tradition, Jesus responded by quoting the Prophet Isaiah. “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Uselessly they worship me, teaching humanly manufactured precepts as if they are from God” (Isaiah 29:13) “You put aside God’s commandment and hold on, with a death-grip, to human traditions.” Jesus calls them out as hypocrites.

A hypocrite, from Greek theater, was an actor who covered his face with a mask – hiding who he was in order to play a part. Jesus is saying, “You are phonies, pretending to be righteous, holy, religious. It’s all a show!” Who are you really? Drop the pretense! Put down the mask! It’s remarkable that Jesus was so much more comfortable with the simple people who were just being themselves, who weren’t trying to look good, who weren’t trying to impress, who weren’t putting on a show. They allowed others to see who they really were, as they were, with their gifts and their faults.

Do we put human teachings above the commandment to love, trying to look like we are doing what God wants? Are we hypocrites? With whom, or before whom, do we feel the need to put on a mask – to pretend to be who we are not inside? Who are we trying to impress? Is our favorite mask being right, or appearing humble, or looking strong and having it all together, or seeming helpless…? Do we play a part in our relationships instead of being ourselves? Are we acting, or are we simply who we are? Jesus invites us to let go of the fears that drive us to the deceit of hypocrisy. God is truth, and loves us madly – just as we are. 

In Mark’s Gospel (Mark 4:9), with parallels in Matthew and Luke, at the end of the parable of the sower, Jesus comes out with this command, “Everyone who has ears needs to use them!” Most of us don’t have physical hearing impairments. Jesus seems to think that listening and hearing are essential actions for growing spiritually. This is a challenge in our world that is so filled with noise.

We get so used to continuous sound that we can come to believe that this is normal. We talk on the phone at every opportunity, convinced that we are “keeping in touch” with others. What is called “white noise” is the background, to which we add music, news, talks, instructional or inspirational tapes, television or radio, to the point where we don’t have a moment of inner silence.

There is also the constant chatter of voices within us. Voices of others join with our own voice to provide a never-ending commentary on our self, our life, the world, people in our life. So, even if we escape the external din, we still are avoiding quiet. How, then, can we hear the voice of God?

Maybe that’s the point. Maybe we don’t want to hear what God is whispering deep within ourselves. If we hear God’s voice, we can’t pretend that what we are doing is what God prefers. We will need to face the truth and either ignore God, or we will need to change. Real change is scary and difficult.

If we spend our time roaring, bellowing or pontificating, truth – that wonderful gift of God – cannot penetrate our defenses. We can believe that we are always, and in everything, right. Learning to listen requires effort. God’s first language is silence. In silence God can speak to our hearts. But we need to develop a habit, a minute or so at a time, just listening, open to hear. Over time, with regular practice, perhaps we will be able to be still for five, ten or twenty minutes, or longer.

We have ears. They were necessary to our basic survival in ages past. They are a key to our living fully today. If we can hear, we also need to use our ears to listen to what lies deeper – beneath, and beyond the noise. God wants to quietly tell us that we are totally loved, and that we have something essential to contribute to building up God’s Kingdom now.

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Some scholars like to point out that Matthew’s Gospel is divided into five sections (or “books”). Matthew almost universally is acknowledged to be shaping his gospel for a Jewish audience. So this gospel presents Jesus as the new Moses (the liberator and lawgiver), and the gospel is the new Pentateuch (five books of the Law). One whole section in the proclamation of the Kingdom is made up of seven (number representing completion or fullness) parables. 

The final parable of the seven is about casting a dragnet into the sea (Matthew 13:47-50). A dragnet had weights along its edges so that it would sink to the depths. You would throw the net out in a way that it would open up as wide as possible, it would gently sink in the water, when the net reached bottom you would slowly drag it back in. This way of fishing was very good at collecting all kinds of fish who feed and dwell at different levels in a larger body of water. It also would haul in plenty of other debris off the floor of the lake or sea. 

Now it’s easy to imagine that not all the fish dragged in were good for eating, and most of the junk was good for nothing. As happens with many of Jesus’ sayings, and especially his parables, the final editing of the gospels added in commentary trying to explain and defend the faith to the particular community addressed by each gospel. So here someone later added to the straightforward story of Jesus a reference to angels, the end of time, judgement and a fiery furnace for whoever they saw as unfaithful, or other “bad guys.” This was not from Jesus.

Jesus is not talking about judgement. In the Gospels of Matthew (Matthew 7:1-2), Luke (Luke 6:37-39) and John (John 7:24) explicitly, and in Mark (Mark 4:24) implicitly, Jesus emphatically states, “Stop Judging!” By judging he was referring to our tendency to place people in heaven or hell based on our point of view, or on how they appear to us. Jesus is saying, “Look, we don’t have God’s vision or perspective. Deciding our or anyone else’s condemnation or final reward is none of our business.” Besides God is incredibly (literally), infinitely merciful, according to Jesus.

Rather, this parable is about discernment. Our eyes, minds, hearts are like dragnets. In our lives we take in, experience, run into all kinds of people and events. Jesus is asking us to discern – to carefully evaluate which of these help us to grow in awareness, love, compassion, forgiveness. Which help us to open up, become freer, more fully alive, more human? And, on the other hand, which close us in on ourselves, on our pre-formed ideas and opinions, on what feels safe and secure? Which are like slow-acting poison for us?

As always, Jesus is inviting us to be transformed, using the gift of discernment to help us to grow each day a bit more fully into who God knows us to be. Leave the role of judge to the all-loving God, who knows us humans much better than we know ourselves. With Jesus, it’s just the facts.

On July 22 each year (except on Sundays) we commemorate the feast of St. Mary Magdalene. This woman has been designated as the Apostle to the Apostles. Yet in the history of Christianity she has long been mischaracterized as a reformed prostitute (e.g. The Chosen) or as Jesus’ lover (e.g. The Last Temptations of Christ). There is no evidence in Scripture for these reputations. Quite probably this “prostitute” label was attached to her by some misguided, pious churchmen who assumed that any woman with “demons” was a sinner and had to be guilty of sexual transgressions. 

Whatever facts we can gather from the Gospels are few. Matthew, Mark and John only mention Mary of Magdala, among other women, in relation to the crucifixion, burial and resurrection of Jesus. All the male disciples had fled. It seems helpful to remember that women, from birth,  were legally considered property of some man. Their main task was child-bearing (especially sons) and child-raising. Of course they would work domestically to help support the household through housework, baking, handiwork or field work, etc. So, it would be very difficult for these evangelists to see women as more than this. Luke, as often happens, is the exception.

Mary was from the town of Magdala, home to a prosperous fish processing industry on the western side of the Sea of Galilee. Since she was (Luke 8:2-3)  one of the women who accompanied Jesus and contributed financially to his ministry, she most likely had made her money in that successful local business. Luke, alone, mentions that Mary had been possessed by seven demons. Whatever her difficulties had been, they seemed to have been considerable – which accounts for the number seven. To say Mary had had seven demons is to indicate that she had big problems – possibly some type of mental illness and/or epilepsy. She felt as if she owed her well being and her life to Jesus. Luke doesn’t mention Mary by name at the cross, just says that those women who had accompanied Jesus from Galilee were there.

While all the Gospels refer to Mary among the women who went to the tomb on the first day of the week (our Sunday), John (John 20:1-18) gives her a special shoutout and a speaking part. In this Gospel, Mary goes to the tomb by herself  before daybreak, discovers the stone covering the entrance rolled away, and runs to tell Simon and the “beloved disciple” (us?). They run to the tomb and find it as Mary reported. Simon and the other disciple can’t understand what this means and return to their hiding place.

While the others leave, Mary stays, weeping out her grief. She bends down and has a vision of angels who ask her why she’s weeping. Mary responds, “They’ve (someone has) taken my Lord away, and I don’t know where to find him.” Mary straightens, turns and sees a man standing nearby. He, too. asks, “Why are you weeping? Who is it that you are looking for?” Mary thinks this is the caretaker for the garden where the tomb is and states, “Sir, if you have taken him, tell me where you put him. I will go and take him off your hands.” It is Jesus who says just her name, “Mary” in that way only he did. Mary, confused and overjoyed at the same time, cries out, “Rabbouni” (my Master).

Jesus responds, “Don’t hang on to me. I have a mission for you. Go back now to the community and tell them for me that I am on my way back to my Abba and your Abba, the One alone who is God.” Don’t hang on to me. Don’t cling to me. Let me go. Do what I ask. Give this consolation to the brothers and sisters gathered together. Mary does this.

How much of our spiritual life and growth hinges on our ability to let go, to not cling or hang on to the past! We need to let go of the ideas, understandings, and ways of doing things that no longer are helping us to move on, to move forward. Prayers, devotions and other religious practices can become habits, which may hinder us from exploring new ways that might lead to maturing in our faith.

We are invited to continually look for Jesus who goes before us. Our mission from Jesus is to be ready to announce to those around us the Good News with the renewed energy that comes from encountering the Risen One as we go about our days. We need to be open. We need to keep our hands, hearts, minds, agendas flexible. We need to listen, when we are seeking, for the One who knows us, and calls us, by name.

 

Maybe it’s been this way forever, but we weren’t aware. Growing up there were no social media through which the whole world flows into ours, and not always gently. Today we can know, with great detail, the wonders and the atrocities happening around us. Often this bombardment fills us with a sense of discomfort and inner unrest. Anxiety is intensely attacking us. Even very young children are suffering and em from this atmosphere of anxiousness.

I’m not sure that the churches don’t, perhaps unwittingly, contribute to feelings of interior agitation. A message, not from Jesus, might come forth from them that sows seeds of doubt about one’s goodness and eternal fate. Society can put out the warning that there’s something very wrong with you if you don’t (behave, dress, think, choose, etc.) as the current norms or style dictate. Anxiety is coming at us from all sides. How might we deal with it?

The final verses of Matthew’s Gospel Chapter 11 (Matthew 11:29) give us a clue. Jesus first says, “Take my yoke and put it on.” Yoke was one of the words used by the Israelites to refer to the Law. Over time, the Law became translated into 613 commandments, instead of the Ten. It became very difficult for the average person to follow the Law then. Only a privileged few succeeded. What is this yoke that Jesus asks us to put on? He condensed the Law into love God, love neighbor, love self. Still not easy, but much simpler.

Then Jesus says, “Learn from me.” He offers his own life, rooted in God’s absolute and all-embracing love, as an example. When we focus on God’s love and not on all the ways we might get life wrong and get lost, we don’t need to pay as much attention to the other voices expecting, or demanding, us to live according to their rules. Jesus, alone, is our model and reference.

Jesus continues, “For I am meek and humble at core.” It helps to understand the virtues of meekness and humility as practiced by Jesus. Meekness is in no way weakness. Meekness is strength that doesn’t need to prove itself by making others feel it. If we are strong, in some way, thanks be to God! The meek person is confident of his/her strength, and knows it comes from God. There is no type of bullying in meekness. Humility on the other hand is both knowing and embracing the truth about ourselves – we are neither God nor trash – but little, gifted and beloved. And that’s okay.

The end of this verse is, “And you will find rest for yourselves.” If we know we are loved by God, and we know who we are and don’t need to prove anything, interior rest will be ours. If we are trying to love ourselves and those around us as our way of loving God, of course imperfectly (perfection is neither human nor a virtue, God knows us better than we know ourselves, that we’re meant to be perfectly imperfect), we can be at peace. There are no artificially manufactured demands on us from within us or from anyone else. This is Jesus’ antidote to anxiety.

 

British Scripture Scholar, J. B. Phillips put it this way: “Give as you’ve received, without any charge whatsoever.” In the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 10:8), Jesus is sending out the Twelve on their first solo mission. He gives them some instructions, including this reminder.

How quickly we forget. Religion has sadly, and too frequently become associated with money – large quantities of it. From the selling of indulgences and high offices, to the mega-churches preaching the “prosperity gospel,” we have fallen again and again into the money-power connection. Those with much money have the ear of those at the top. Those with less means can wait their turn in the outer chamber.

Perhaps if church leaders in every age had been rooted in the Gospel that Jesus proclaimed, and had listened to the prophetic voices around them, we would not have the painful divisions among us. This scandal of disunity greatly hinders people from other religions to take Christianity seriously. We have been given a rich and beautiful message to share, but the witness of our lives too often doesn’t match. We need to walk the walk, not just say the right words.

This saying about receiving and giving first struck me back in the late 1960s. Our whole faith is rooted in Jesus, who is the epitome of grace – free gift of God. If we think about it we can probably see that all that we are and have has been given to us, directly or indirectly. If we are able to do anything, others have given us life, raised us, taught us, trained us, guided us, etc. If we have anything, or have become anything, we may have cooperated with the gifts given us, but they are still gifts. We are not to claim them or hoard them, as if they were our possessions.

The invitation is to give freely, without charge. Certainly we wouldn’t think of making our family members or friends or others pay for what we share with them. But we can put a price on our gifts – not money of course. We have a tendency to attach an emotional or psychological toll to our giving. People who know us well have come to realize that if they accept our offer of help, it will cost them. If we have this tendency, it would be more honest just to ask for money.

The gift-tax we charge might be expected praise from the receiver, or a certain action or behavior, or a feeling of inferiority and indebtedness in them or favors in return. It is no surprise if they avoid asking us for anything else. Jesus points us to the boundless generosity of the Supreme Giver. God gives all freely, expecting nothing in return, and invites us to follow suit as best we can. We have received so much!