September 4, 2011 - "Love is the fulfillment of the law"

September 4, 2011 - Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

First Reading - Ezekiel 33:7-9

Thus says the LORD: You, son of man, I have appointed watchman for the house of Israel; when you hear me say anything, you shall warn them for me. If I tell the wicked, "O wicked one, you shall surely die, "and you do not speak out to dissuade the wicked from his way, the wicked shall die for his guilt, but I will hold you responsible for his death. But if you warn the wicked, trying to turn him from his way, and he refuses to turn from his way, he shall die for his guilt, but you shall save yourself.

Responsorial Psalm - Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9

R. (8)If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Come, let us sing joyfully to the LORD; let us acclaim the rock of our salvation.

Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us joyfully sing psalms to him.

R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Come, let us bow down in worship; let us kneel before the LORD who made us.

For he is our God, and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides.

R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Oh, that today you would hear his voice: "Harden not your hearts as at Meribah, as in the day of Massah in the desert, Where your fathers tempted me; they tested me though they had seen my works."

R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Second Reading - Romans 13:8-10

Brothers and sisters: Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments, "You shall not commit adultery; you shall not kill; you shall not steal; you shall not covet, " and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this saying, namely, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law.

Gospel - Matthew 18:15-20

Jesus said to his disciples: "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother. If he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, so that 'every fact may be established on the testimony of two or three witnesses.' If he refuses to listen to them, tell the church.

If he refuses to listen even to the church, then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector. Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again, amen, I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything for which they are to pray, it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."

Reflection

Frequently, we feel oppressed by “the law.” Stifled. Suffocated. Restrained. Handcuffed. Possibly even imprisoned. We perceive “the law” as a constraint on human freedom and an implicit indictment of our ability as moral agents to make good decisions. We don’t trust you to drive at a safe speed, so we establish a speed limit and post cops along the side of the road to enforce it. We can’t be sure you won’t abuse alcohol or other controlled substances, and so we draft legislation that curtails who can have access to these chemicals and under what circumstances they are made available. And that’s just the criminal code. The majority of law, at least in the United States, is civil law. Contract law. Property law. The sorts of statutes and clauses that spell out exactly who owes whom what, for how long, and at what cost. Codifications of the process by which comes to inherit a piece of land or the deed to a house, and the concomitant tax law delineating precisely how much that newfound property will cost you. The law is not something that elicits a great deal of affection from most ordinary citizens.

And yet, in today’s readings, we encounter a decidedly different description of the law, i.e. “love is the fulfillment of the law.” If one were to plod through the entirety of the United States Internal Revenue Code or pore over the details of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act of 2010, “love” is unlikely to be the first word that comes to mind to describe them. So what does it mean for Paul to assert that, in loving one another, we fulfill the law?

For the Jewish people, the law was not understood to be a constraining apparatus, preventing them from living as they pleased; rather, The Law, or Torah (for Torah means “Law”) was seen as given from God for their flourishing. The purpose of the 611 commandments contained in the Biblical Pentateuch was to facilitate social relationships in such a way that the community coexisted peacefully and cooperatively. There are the 10 (major) Commandments, of course, that quite obviously aim to prevent a descent into conflict, insofar as adultery, theft, and murder tend to be pretty serious obstacles to social cohesion in a tribal society (or any society, for that matter). But even the more obscure commandments, such as those governing the proper response should a neighbor accidentally kill one’s ox, were designed to allow the community to live in harmony and stability. (The unintentional killing of a goat might be forgiven by one neighbor, but another might be willing to go to war over it. Having a clearly laid out set of rules by which such matters are to be resolved was essential to tribal life.)

Underlying all of these laws, then, was the foundation of human relationship. All of Torah concerns itself with the question of justice, of dikaiosune, as it is translated in Greek. Not justice as we commonly conceive of it, but as being in right relationship with every other created being in the cosmos. Thus, dikaiosune does not simply concern itself with what I owe the government, should I inherit a large amount of money from a deceased relative, but with what I owe everyone and everything in my daily life. What I “owe” my mother as her child. What I “owe” the environment as entrusted with its care and stewardship by God. What I “owe” both the guy down the hall who drives me nuts and myself, as persons, each of us, created in the image and likeness of God. Clearly these sorts of relationships are not all the domain of “the law” as we often think of it, i.e. the law of the state. Rather, such laws permeate every aspect of our life, inasmuch as we are intrinsically relational beings.

If relationships undergird the law, then love must be both its impetus and fulfillment. Too often, we view adherence to the law as a product of fear, usually fear of consequences should we fail to do so. When we are young, we obey our parents for fear that they will punish us otherwise, and once we are older, we obey the speed limit because we are afraid we will get caught (and hit with a speeding ticket). Properly understood, however, both of these forms of “obedience” ought to be aimed at love. I listen to my mother’s instructions that I be home by midnight not because I am afraid of getting grounded if she finds out I’ve disobeyed, but because I love my mother and I do not want her sitting up all night, racked with anxiety over my whereabouts and well-being. Likewise, I drive under the speed limit not because I fear a ticket, but because I love my neighbors so much that I could never consciously decide that it was worth arriving a few minutes early at the ballpark if my recklessness endangered other people’s lives.

Paul exhorts us to begin first with the conviction that love is at the heart of what it means to be a follower of Christ. From this, our love of those around us compels us to cultivate right relationship with them, whatever that may mean. If we start from a place of love—and see still greater love as the goal—then it will not feel like we “owe” our obedience to authority or adherence to the law. Instead, we will begin to feel a genuine sense of joy, that we are able to express our love to others through the establishment and furthering of these right relationships.

Parents are often asked what they would like for their birthday, and it is not uncommon for them to respond something to the effect of, “What I’d really like is for my kids, just for a day, to do all their chores; not to start fights with one another; and to listen to everything I say.” Ask any parent, teacher, or coach. Far more demonstrative of the authenticity of one’s love than any present purchased at the store, is a sincere attempt to be in right relationship with that person. Teachers don’t want their students to express love by giving them $25 gift cards to Target (although those are nice); they want their students to be quiet in class and listen when instructions are given.

This is what Paul means in his letter to the Romans, and this is what Jesus expounds upon throughout his many teachings on the law. To love our neighbor, as Jesus commands us, means to cultivate right relationship with them. And, in doing so, we will find that the love between our individual selves is multiplied and compounded, becoming a part of the larger collective of love constructed by the entire Christian community. Our challenge, then, is to discern what that love requires from us in each of our distinct relationships—to our parents; to our friends; to our siblings; to our bosses, coaches, and instructors; to drought-afflicted populations in Africa and to war-torn regions in the Middle East. There may be no national statute articulating what we “owe” to homeless veterans who loiter outside local restaurants, nor any international political body with the authority to legislate what we “owe” children dying of dysentery in Haiti; but justice, dikaiosune, invites us to consider what we “owe” them, what love compels us to do, out of love.

Questions for Reflection

1) When you hear the word, “law,” what are some of the first words that come to mind? Do you generally have a favorable view of “the law?” Unfavorable? Begrudging acceptance as necessary for life in a civilized society?

2) Are there any particular laws, whether of the civil state or the Catholic Church, that you struggle with? What about them causes you to struggle? If you had to describe what you think the purpose/motivation for them was, what would you say it was?

3) What are some of the important relationships in your current life? Roommates, boy/girlfriends, parents, professors, etc. What does justice, i.e. “being in right relationship” with each of them entail?

4) How does it strike you that love might be motivated by and fulfilled in love? If you were to start from a place of loving the other, how might some of your interactions with those you are in relationship with, be different?

5) Jesus instructs us that we should “love one another as you love yourself”… what does loving ONESELF require? How might we do justice, that is, be in right relationship, with ourselves? What sorts of “laws,” (e.g. get enough sleep; eat healthy; find time for prayer; etc.) might we obey out of love for self?

28 August 2011 - 22nd Sunday in Ord Time [Cycle A]

August 28, 2011 - Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

First Reading - Jeremiah 20:7-9

You duped me, O LORD, and I let myself be duped; you were too strong for me, and you triumphed. All the day I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me.

Whenever I speak, I must cry out, violence and outrage is my message; the word of the LORD has brought me derision and reproach all the day. I say to myself, I will not mention him, I will speak in his name no more. But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones;
I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.

Responsorial Psalm - Ps 63:2, 3-4, 5-6, 8-9

R. (2b) My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.
O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts
like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water.
R. My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.
Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory,
For your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify you.
R. My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.
Thus will I bless you while I live; lifting up my hands, I will call upon your name. As with the riches of a banquet shall my soul be satisfied, and with exultant lips my mouth shall praise you.
R. My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.
You are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy.
My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me.
R. My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God.

Reading 2 - Romans 12:1-2

I urge you, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,
holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.

Gospel - Matthew 16:21-27

Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised. Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you." He turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father's glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct."

Reflection

In any discipline, one of the things that sets apart the truly spectacular individuals from the rest of their peers is an uncompromising willingness to show up on days they don’t really want to be there. Michael Jordan and Michael Phelps boasted preternaturally talent, but Jordan was famous for being the first one at the gym in the morning to practice his jump shot, and Phelps spent a seemingly superhuman 6 to 8 hours a day in the water leading up to the Olympics. Similar stories abound for Nobel-winning scientists who locked themselves in a lab for days on end and world-renowned musicians whose calloused fingers cracked and bled from the repeated efforts to perfect a piece. Their relentless drive to succeed compelled them to pour in the many hours necessary to achieve at the highest level.

There are no shortcuts to success. Be it a molecular biologist attempting to identify genetic factors for cancer, or a violinist attempting to win a chair with a major symphony—or, on a far more common level, a student studying for an organic chemistry final or one preparing to take the LSATs. Or the MCATs. Or Comps. Or Boards. One common theme persists across disciplines: in order to attain the goal, one must be willing to put in the work, despite all temptations to the contrary. Sometimes, the temptation to take the easy way out can be so powerful, so appealing, that the only way we can resist is to meet the temptation with equal ferocity, to let forth a visceral bellow to, “Get behind me, Satan!” This is what happens to Jesus in today’s Gospel.

Remember, in Jewish thought at the time of Jesus, “the Satan” was a title, not a single, personal being. The Satan was a member of the Heavenly Court, assigned by God to test humans—to challenge them, to tempt them. In some sense, the Satan was the unyielding drill instructor at boot camp screaming in the face of weary recruits, “You’re too weak! You’ll never make it through this program! I’ll bet you’d rather be warm and dry in your bed, curling up with a blanket, rather than out here in the mud doing push-ups!” The Satan was “employed” by God to make sure the individual had what it took to successfully accomplish his/her mission later on.

The only other time we see the Satan in the Gospel of Matthew is when Jesus is being tempted in the desert, and as we have covered before (Jesus’ Temptation in the Desert), the reason that the suggestions of the Satan were so tempting to Jesus is that they were the equivalent of taking the easy way out. Much as there is no magical shortcut to acing the MCATs or making it through medical school, there was no “easy way out” for Jesus’ mission on earth. He knew that the task God had given him would require great hardship and unspeakable suffering. It was something that must have tormented him throughout his public ministry—indeed, we see him agonizing over it in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before his death. We see a human Jesus, a person like ourselves, who was filled with anxiety and terror and dread, who must have been incredibly tempted to walk away from the task at hand, knowing how much it would hurt.

When he describes the suffering he is going to have to undergo in today’s Gospel, informing his disciples that he would have to suffer and die to complete his assignment, it would be like one of us telling a friend about what it will take to become a surgeon. “Well, I’ll have to take the MCATs, do well in my classes, shadow some doctors, find time for research, get into medical school, SURVIVE medical school, pass the boards, get matched with a hospital, spend several years working my way through internship and residency…” and Peter’s well-intentioned response would be equivalent to one of our friends saying, “Jeez, that sounds awful! Why don’t you just say, ‘Forget all that!’ and do something else?!”

Our response might be, “Get behind me, Satan!” which translated, would mean, “Don’t tempt me! Don’t you think I’m tempted to just avoid all that hardship?! Of course I am! But this is what I feel called to do!”

The same way that we, while we’re working on a research project; studying for a series of exams; preparing for a recital; training for a marathon, etc. will have times when we are tempted to sleep in on a Saturday morning, rather than go for a 20 mile run; or to go out and celebrate a friend’s birthday at the bar, rather than stay in and study for the exam… Jesus must have been tempted to say, “It’s been a long week; I’m tired of healing these people and delivering sermons… let’s blow off the next town and spend a week having fun!”

The reason that Jesus responds with so potent a rebuke to Peter is the same reason we might eventually lose our patience with a friend who keeps trying to get us to go out to the bar while we’re trying to study for an exam; at some point, we can’t resist anymore, and we’re sick of being inundated with invitations to take the temptation, so we just shout, “I’M NOT GOING OUT, LEAVE ME ALONE!” The person might be taken aback by our tone; they may even be hurt and confused, but the energy in our voice would be a direct expression of just how challenging it is to stay the course on a project we’ve undertaken, that we feel called to complete. Especially when there are so many short-term gratifications we’d probably “rather” be doing.

But in the long run, what we recognize by remaining committed, is that it is ultimately worth the price. Finishing the marathon; winning a research fellowship; getting accepted to medical school. We recognize that, no matter how appealing the short term alternative might be, going out with friends or sleeping in on a Saturday is nowhere near as fulfilling as the long-term accomplishment will be. Jesus, too, knew this. No matter how draining his public ministry, no matter how painful his suffering and death; it would ultimately result in the salvation of the human race.

Peter’s thought is: we want you to be happy! And we want to be happy with you! But he doesn’t understand that what will make Jesus most happy, will be to fulfill his mission. Oftentimes in life, our friends or family might do the same to us; they might push a suggestion and say, “Why don’t you…?” not understanding that this won’t bring us the greatest fulfillment in the long run. It’s for this reason that Jesus says to Peter, you’re not thinking about this as God does; you’re thinking about this as a human does. It’d be like saying to your friend who insists you blow off studying, “You’re not thinking about what I ought to do as someone who’s familiar with what it takes to get into medical school; you’re thinking about this as my friend who wants to see me less stressed and who wants to hang out with me.” In other words, “I love you, but you don’t get it.” That’s why Jesus isn’t mad at Peter.

In fact, Peter’s interjection is instructive for us, if we analyze it a bit. Peter’s words are an admixture of sincere love for his friend, “I don’t want to see you go through all that!” and self-ish fear that all of this is going to negatively affect his own life—after all, Peter had walked away from his job, left behind his family, given up everything he owned to follow Jesus. Now Jesus is telling that group of followers that, before too long, he’s going to be killed and they’re going to be on their own. Peter must have been freaking out! “Well then what am I supposed to do??”

The key for us, when we are in Jesus’ position, undertaking some difficult assignment that we know will involve hardship and possibly even pain, is to pray for the grace to sustain us on our mission, even when we are surrounded by the temptation to quit. Only by the grace of God will we be able to summon the internal motivation to stay in and study for an exam all day when our friends are out tailgating leading up to the Notre Dame game. Only by the grace of God will we be able to roll out of bed at 6 am on a Saturday morning in November, when it’s 37 degrees outside and raining, to plow through a long run in preparation for the marathon.

And, conversely, when we are Peter, when we find ourselves in relationship with someone who is endeavoring at some similar undertaking, we must pray for the grace to be supportive, even if we do not totally understand the logic of that person’s mission. Even if it strikes us as perfectly ILLOGICAL for a person to want to wake up before dawn and run in the rain, or to stare at data results in a lab until one’s eyes are sore.

When we are tempted by “the Satan,” very infrequently do we see a demonic figure with red horns and an evil grin, and the “evil” to which we are tempted is not usually some obvious or extraordinarily horrible thing. Far more often, the temptation is to tailgate with friends when we are in crunch time for a research project, and that “evil” appears to be a very great good—hanging out with friends! Cultivating relationship! The temptation isn’t to take a detour at mile 16 of the marathon and jump back on at mile 22, cheating the course—it’s to skip some of our training so that we can sleep in. The next time we feel that temptation, it may not be enough to sigh and force ourselves to do what is tough. We may have to exclaim, “Get behind me, Satan!”

Questions for Reflection

1) Have you ever undertaken some very challenging task? Studied for a particularly tough exam, when your friends were all going out? Trained for a sporting competition? Practiced for a recital? Were there days you were tempted to skip out on your work? How did you summon the strength to push through?

2) Can you think of any friends who have undertaken some mission you did not really understand? Worked in a foreign country? Taken a job that appears to involve a lot of stress and drama? Decided to train for something? How did you respond to that friend’s decision? Were you supportive? What does being a good friend look like? How can one be unconditionally supportive, without also becoming uncritically so? That is, what if you really DO believe this person’s undertaking is bad for them?

3) Jesus had his mission handed to him by the Father, but we are not often so lucky as to have it explicitly spelled out for us; how do you discern what it is God is calling you to do? How do you know which undertakings are part of “God’s plan,” and which are part of your “human plan?”

20th Sunday in Ord Time - August 14, 2011

August 14, 2011 - Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 Is 56:1, 6-7

Thus says the LORD: Observe what is right, do what is just; for my salvation is about to come, my justice, about to be revealed.

The foreigners who join themselves to the LORD, ministering to him, loving the name of the LORD, and becoming his servants- all who keep the sabbath free from profanation and hold to my covenant, them I will bring to my holy mountain and make joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, for my house shall be called
a house of prayer for all peoples.

Responsorial Psalm Ps 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8

R. (4) O God, let all the nations praise you!
May God have pity on us and bless us; may he let his face shine upon us.
So may your way be known upon earth; among all nations, your salvation.
R. O God, let all the nations praise you!
May the nations be glad and exult because you rule the peoples in equity; the nations on the earth you guide.
R. O God, let all the nations praise you!
May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you!
May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him!
R. O God, let all the nations praise you!

Reading 2 Rom 11:13-15, 29-32

Brothers and sisters: I am speaking to you Gentiles. Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I glory in my ministry in order to make my race jealous and thus save some of them. For if their rejection is the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead?

For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable. Just as you once disobeyed God but have now received mercy because of their disobedience, so they have now disobeyed in order that, by virtue of the mercy shown to you, they too may now receive mercy. For God delivered all to disobedience, that he might have mercy upon all.

Gospel Mt 15:21-28

At that time, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon." But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.

Jesus' disciples came and asked him, "Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us."
He said in reply, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
But the woman came and did Jesus homage, saying, "Lord, help me."
He said in reply, "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs."
She said, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters."
Then Jesus said to her in reply, "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And the woman's daughter was healed from that hour.

Reflection

In the current film adaptation of the superhero series, Captain America, the title character is portrayed as a scrawny asthmatic who tries unsuccessfully to sign up for military service during the throes of World War II. Steve Rogers, the young man who would become Captain America, goes from one recruiting station to another, falsifying his name and downplaying his physical ailments, all in an effort to join the Army. Ultimately, a senior scientist happens to overhear an exchange between Rogers and a recruiter, at which point the scientist, impressed by the young man’s tireless persistence and resolve, intervenes on Rogers’ behalf. Rogers, an emaciated teenager from Brooklyn, goes on to become a figure of superhuman strength following an injection of serum developed by this scientist. This most unlikely of people—an orphan of no great physical strength or social standing—becomes the very emblem of human strength and American commitment during the War.

And so it is in today’s Gospel. The woman who approaches Jesus is a Canaanite—a member of the tribe that the Israelites had vanquished when, led by Moses’ successor, Joshua, they had escaped captivity in Egypt and conquered the land of Canaan. The Canaanites, therefore, were sworn enemies of the Jews, whom they believe to have displaced and subjugated them. For a Canaanite—a woman, no less (in a society where women who were not blood related did not dare speak to men in public)—to engage Jesus like this is extremely unusual.

The woman, like the Rogers boy, is a misfit, and yet she is set apart by the author of this story in a remarkable way: in all of the Gospel of Matthew, this woman alone is described as being “great of faith.” Not John. Not James. Not even Peter. But a woman—and a Gentile at that! Clearly, the evangelist wishes to emphasize the enormity of this woman’s belief, and the immense role that the virtue of persistence played in the efficacy of her undertaking. At first, Jesus rebuffs her, but she refuses to be dismissed. Jesus’ response—that it is not right to throw to the dogs what rightly belongs to the children—strikes us as particularly harsh, especially coming from the God to whom we are invited to bring our every need.

Jesus’ remark bears a bit of deconstruction—why would he spurn her so callously? It must be remembered that Jesus was a human being like any other, inasmuch as his earthly ministry was limited by the physical constraints of a human body. Though ultimately he commissioned the disciples to bring the Gospel to the ends of the earth, he himself remained exclusively in the relatively small region of Judea and Galilee. He never traveled to Athens, Rome, or Alexandria, much less Central America or Southeast Asia. There are only so many hours in a day, and, at the time of Jesus, it was impossible to film a sermon, upload it to Youtube, and have it broadcast around the world. Jesus’ response, in effect, is reminding us that his primary mission, while here on Earth, was to the Jewish people of that particular region.

Just as it is very sad that there are starving children in urban Detroit and even worse conditions in famine-plagued Somalia, a parent’s primary concern must be to make sure that his/her own children have enough to eat before s/he worries about finding the resources to feed others. In other words, Jesus is attesting to the very real boundaries imposed by limited resources—he only had so much time and energy, and if he began ministering to additional communities, he wouldn’t be taking care of his primary charge, the Jews.

What this woman says to Jesus is, “Yes, you have a responsibility to feed your own children first, but if the food’s already made, and there’s some left over, why not let the hungry creature eat it?” She is saying, in effect, that she is already there among the peoples to whom Jesus and his disciples are ministering. She is not asking him to come to a distant land with her; what she is asking should just be a “scrap” of the “food” that’s already been prepared.

The archetype presented by this woman ought to be familiar to us—the undersized outcast who petitions some great master for instruction and ultimately ends up impressing the mentor-figure by virtue of his/her persistence. We see it in dozens of motivational movies, from Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky to Cool Runnings’ Jamaican bobsledders. Perhaps the most potent example from contemporary culture, and the one most analogous to today’s Gospel, is the character portrayed by Hilary Swank in the movie Million Dollar Baby. Like the Canaanite woman, Swank’s female boxer is a misfit, a woman who dares step foot into a man’s world, and one rebuked sharply by Clint Eastwood’s Coach when she approaches him for tutelage. Ultimately, she wins him over with her perseverance and refusal to take, “No” for an answer.

So what does this mean for all of us? We, like the Canaanite woman, often ask Jesus for things. We bring to him our petitions—to heal an ailing relative; to find us a job in a tough economy; to help us find a girl/boyfriend—and oftentimes, it feels as though we are shot down, much as the woman in today’s Gospel is. There is an adage that goes, “God answers all of our prayers, but sometimes, the answer is ‘no.’” The question thus becomes, “Is that a ‘hard no?’ or a ‘no, not right now, but perhaps later, under different circumstances’?” A man might ask his girlfriend for her hand in marriage after they’ve been dating for a few months, and her response might be, “No,” but it is because she is still in graduate school and the two have not yet been dating long enough that she feels certain he is the one she wants to marry. That is, she may well be saying, “No, not right at this moment, but possibly in the future, if certain conditions are met.”

So may it be with God. In some instances, “No” is a final decision, and in others, it is an invitation for us to demonstrate our resolve, as was the case with the Canaanite woman and Hilary Swank’s boxer. The challenge for us is to discern which type of “rejection” we are receiving, and, if we think it only a deferment rather than an outright rejection, to figure out how to move forward persistently and patiently.

Questions for Reflection

1) Have you ever asked God for something and felt like the answer was, “No”? Why do you think that was? Do you think it worked out for the best? If not, did any good come of it?

2) Do you believe that God answers all of our prayers? Does it seem as though he answers all people’s prayers equally and fairly?

3) What, in your life, do you see as the value of persistence? Is there any example of an instance when your persistence paid off? Any times when, despite your persistence, you still failed to attain your goal? Where do you see God at work in that?

7 August 2011 - 19th Sunday in Ord Time [Cycle A]

August 7, 2011 - Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 - 1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a
At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter. Then the LORD said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.”
A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire—but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.

Responsorial Psalm - 85:9, 10, 11-12, 13-14

R. (8) Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation.
I will hear what God proclaims; the LORD — for he proclaims peace.
Near indeed is his salvation to those who fear him, glory dwelling in our land.
R. Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation.
Kindness and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss.
Truth shall spring out of the earth, and justice shall look down from heaven.
R. Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation.
The LORD himself will give his benefits; our land shall yield its increase.
Justice shall walk before him, and prepare the way of his steps.
R. Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation.

Reading II - Rom 9:1-5

Brothers and sisters: I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie; my conscience joins with the Holy Spirit in bearing me witness that I have great sorrow and constant anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh. They are Israelites; theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.

Gospel - Mt 14:22-33

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them walking on the sea.
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. “It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Peter said to him in reply, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.”

Reflection

I just bought a new bike—my first road bike—as I’ve been going out for longer and longer rides and decided that it was time to invest in the proper equipment. My old bike, a sturdy hybrid that competently handles pavement without disintegrating over rougher terrain, has served me well, and in the two years I’ve been riding it, I’ve never had a problem with it.

Last week, I went to the Shore with my family, and I brought along the seasoned hybrid, for fear that something might happen to my shiny new roadster. Moreover, I was afraid I’d blow a tire on the new bike, and I hadn’t yet purchased spare tubes or a patch kit. So I stuck with the trusted, older ride. And naturally blew out my first tire ever on it. Not only that, the spare tube from a passing Samaritan cyclist popped as soon as it was inflated. Predictably, the tubes waited until my longest ride of the trip, and the blowout occurred when I was over ten miles away from the shore house. Ultimately, I ended up jogging back, dragging the bike alongside me.

God was in the blowout. I’m not saying God physically blew out my tire; some small chard of glass or piece of metal probably did that. But God was undoubtedly at work in the experience. Using the torn rubber tube to communicate with me. Allowing an objectively “evil” event to occur, i.e. blowing out a tire, to teach me some lesson, to form me in some way.

As soon as I got back to my parents’ house in Pennsylvania, I made a trip to the bike shop and bought spare tubes and a portable pump. I also made sure I bought a seat pack large enough to accommodate a cell phone should I really find myself in trouble. Truth be told, prior to the blowout, I wasn’t convinced I really needed all that. I’m accustomed to shopping for electronics, and I’m of the opinion that the $40 extended service warranty on a $100 camera is rarely a good value and that the innumerable accoutrements the sales clerk pushes upon purchase are usually unnecessary. Following my blown tire, however, I was thoroughly sold on the importance of buying the proper equipment for these longer rides. In fact, as I jogged home, bike in tow, I grinned and said out loud, “Message received, God.”

God was in the blown tire. Just as God was in the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze off the ocean later that day. God used the inner harmony I experienced from lying on the sand to remind me that we, humans—myself included—need breaks. And He used the blown tire to say a lot of things, not the least of which is that I’m not nearly so in control of life circumstances as I sometimes like to think! God speaks to us in the mundane, easy-to-overlook experiences of my everyday existence. But we an only hear if we know to listen.

I often hear people lament, “God doesn’t answer my prayers.” When asked for more detail, they usually reply that they have offered up some supplication or asked some question of God in prayer, but that they received no response. As though God were expected to write on their facebook wall or send them a text message with the answer. (“I got your note about passing the bar exam… I’m pretty busy this week; I’m going to have to get back to you. I’m tagging @Thomas More in this post in case he can be of any help in the meantime.”)

This is the point of the first reading. Ancient peoples almost universally associated God or gods with awe-some displays of cosmic force. Thunder. Lightning. Earthquakes. The Sun. And it’s obvious to see why—these were phenomena far beyond the force of human capabilities, so they must have some SUPER-human origin. Thus, when they experienced an eclipse or suffered through a drought, they assumed it must be g/God communicating with them. In fact, the Hebrew Scriptures are rife with examples of God doing just this—using natural (and supernatural) phenomena to indicate His pleasure or displeasure with a people.

When there were plagues or famines, it was understood that God was upset with them. That they had done something wrong to elicit His ire; or worse, that he had forsaken them altogether. When things were going well; when they achieved some great military victory, they attributed this to God’s favor. To his support of their cause. If they lost a battle, or if a river flooded, it was because God had abandoned them. If they conquered a new territory or brought in a record harvest, it was because God supported their undertaking.

But we do the same thing, many times. We find God in our personal (or communal) victories and bemoan His ostensible absence during our hardships. We celebrate God’s goodness when we pass an exam, and we curse Him when we fail. We thank God effusively when we land the job we wanted or the cancer screening comes back negative; but we openly question His providence when we find ourselves laid off or learn that the test results were not good. What Elijah understands, and what the first reading attempts to convey, is that God is in the whispers as well as the thunder. God communicates to us in ways we do not always expect or even understand. Certainly not in the ways WE would choose to communicate if WE were God. So often, we want God to reply to us in sentence form.

But more often than not, God’s preferred form of communication is non-verbal. Rather than reply to our question, “What am I supposed to do with my life?” with an e-mail indicating that we are supposed to be an elementary school teacher, God plants a joy in our heart when we undertake the activity of helping others learn. We feel an incredible sense of fulfillment the summer we work as a camp counselor, teaching kids about various types of leaves and animals; and conversely, we complain incessantly about the following year when we were stuck filing financial reports in our dad’s office.

The joy and fulfillment in our heart when we work with the kids; the compliments from the older counselors who see our natural rapport with the participants; the hugs from the campers at the end of the summer—all of these are God communicating with us. And so is the opposite experience—the loneliness and boredom of an office job. The indifference towards spreadsheets and the disdain for suit jackets.

God may occasionally employ the thunder and earthquake to get our attention, but the majority of His end of the conversation is in a decidedly less conspicuous form. God may use some major life event, e.g. a major illness, or losing a job, to remind us of, for instance, the value of human relationships, but on a more daily basis, that same message is broadcast in more subtle tones. For instance, the friend who can tell that our new boss is causing us greater anxiety at work and offers to come by with Chinese food and a DVD.

Many famous athletes, celebrities, and businessmen end up writing memoirs in which they detail some major adversity that helped teach them important life values. The football coach who has a health scare and realizes that no number of conference championships is worth a premature heart attack. The corporate marketing guru who loses her job and re-discovers the value of time spent with her children. But it is also highly probable that God had been “whispering” to these individuals all along. In the form of the joy the marketer felt when she saw her daughter’s first soccer goal, and conversely in the immense guilt she’d experienced when she couldn’t get out of work in time for the ballet recital.

The challenge, for us, is twofold: first, to be open and attentive to what God might be “whispering” to us already and every day in our life. And second, to discern what those whispers might mean. The first part takes attunement and openness. The second part requires immense patience, not rushing to judgment and deciding that we have divined all that God intended to “say” through a given experience, shutting the door on further interpretation.

Thus, we must be aware that the fact that we didn’t get into a single grad school when we applied means SOMETHING. God wishes to communicate SOMETHING to us. So we should be attentive to what that might be. But we must likewise be careful not to decide we are certain it is so straightforward as: God doesn’t want me to go to grad school. Perhaps. But perhaps God simply does not want you to go to any of THOSE particular 10 schools at THIS particular time in your life, preferring you instead to work for a year in the field, gaining some valuable experience before heading off to a program that is an even better fit.

God “whispers” to us in the beauty of a sunset over the ocean as well as the dreariness of a rainy afternoon in winter. God answers our prayers both in the winning of a research grant and in the losing of one. In the amazing friends we have, and in the a-holes we meet. The task for us is first to be attentive to the whispers, then to discern what they might mean.

Questions for Reflection

1) Do you ever feel as though God doesn’t answer your prayers? Do you ever struggle to see where God is at work in your life? What has been your experience?

2) If you do see God at work in your life, where do you encounter God? What are these experiences like? What led/leads you to believe it’s God?

3) Have you ever experienced some time in your life in which it felt as though God was absent or unresponsive? Do you still feel that way? How did it get resolved?

4) Are there any “whispers” from God you’re aware of right now (or thunderclaps?!) that you’re trying to comprehend? What sorts of resources do you use or people do you go to in order to try and make sense of these communications?