Reflection for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

Beloved, let us love one another,
because love is of God;
everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.
Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. 

It is an absolute truism today that so much of our society, church and world has devolved into tribalism, sectarianism, nationalism and nativism.  While we have all had to contend with the challenges of the Covid-19 virus and its virulent variants, a far more sinister virus of the human heart threatening the solidarity of the human family is the ‘me first’ attitude that, sadly, characterizes a growing segment of our own country. 

That vibrant national spirit that enabled the United States to join hands with its fellow citizens and allies to confront and defeat the pure evil of Nazism with its demonic theories of racial purity leading to the genocidal Holocaust, has devolved into an anemic ‘America First’ mentality that narcissistically is seducing more and more of our fellow citizens. 

Sadly, many Evangelical Christians, who once were committed to taking the words of the Lord so literally, have been seduced by the spirit of the present age and have betrayed those very same words by supporting both in word and deed the partisanship that so characterizes political discourse today.  Rather than challenging folks with words that our fellow citizens need to hear, they mouth the tired bromides that folks want to hear. 

Into this toxic environment comes the words of the First Letter of St. John, whose message is more needed and relevant than ever:   

Beloved, let us love one another,
because love is of God;
everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God.
Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. 

For nearly 2000 years, the ultimate litmus test for authentic living of the Christian faith has been those words that are a balm for the righteous and a searing judgment for the hypocrite.

 

 

 

 

Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace.
It was being built up and walked in the fear of the Lord,
and with the consolation of the Holy Spirit it grew in numbers.
 

During the great 50 days in which we celebrate the transforming power of the Easter mystery in the Church, the first lesson at the Sunday Eucharist is taken from the Acts of the Apostles.  This is the only time within the yearly lectionary cycle of readings that the first reading invariably from the Hebrew Scriptures is replaced by a New Testament lesson. 

Scholars tell us that the Evangelist Luke is also the inspired writer of the Acts of the Apostles. Even a cursory reading of Acts reveals that, unlike his Gospel, it narrates the challenging ‘history’ of the early Church following the Ascension of the Lord.  I place the word, ‘history,’ in parenthesis, since this is an idealized history seen through the eyes not of an exacting historical chronicler but rather one whose primary aim was to bring about conversion to the Christ and His Way by all who would read and listen to this saving message.

I must admit, I always am more than a bit amused when I hear the verse quoted above with its phrase: The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace… In the nearly 2000 year history of our Church, this must have been the singular time when the church was at peace!  My friends, as a human institution that holds a divine dimension, our history down through the centuries has, sadly, been all too fragile with infighting and contention.  As the French would say, the more things change, the more they remain the same

No wonder, then, that year after year during the Easter Season, we hear the simple yet incredibly challenging message from the 1st Letter of John:  Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth.   

Sisters and Brothers, if we truly believe that at the heart of the reality that we call ‘Church,’ is nothing less than relationships – the Lord with us and ours with him and one another – then love must stand as the ultimate litmus test of the quality and sincerity of those relationships. 

The invariable sign down through the centuries that we fail this test is the dissension, inner turmoil and infighting that can destroy the communion that the Lord wants for his beloved Church.  However, when we humbly rise above are incessant need to narcissistically be right and let compassion and mercy be the hallmark of our lives, dissension, inner turmoil and infighting can indeed give way to a holy communion. 

Such a reality, however, comes as an amazing grace from the one who is the giver of all good things, God’s spirit of love.  Let us be open to that gift, this day and every day of our lives.

Sunday Reflection: Unclean

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said,
“If you wish, you can make me clean.”
Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, 
touched him, and said to him, 
“I do will it. Be made clean.”
 

The Covid pandemic has created an understandable near obsession with ‘antibacterial cleanliness’ as we find ourselves wearing masks, spraying with disinfectant surfaces and avoiding close contact with others.  All of this is, of course, necessary in order to safeguard ourselves and others from spreading this highly contagious virus.  While there are those who might cavalierly flout such common-sense safe guards, the vast majority of us are exercising responsible behavior to preclude the spreading of this terrible pandemic. 

In the Biblical pre-scientific world, what constituted ‘uncleanness’ often mirrored the prejudices of the age. Diseases that were relatively non-infectious rendered a person ‘unclean’ and an outcast from society.  ‘Demon possession’ often became the facile explanation for epilepsy or the variety of mental disorders that we now commonly treat with counseling or medication.   

While we might scoff at such naïve attitudes, all of us should not be so hasty.  Sadly, many still render ‘unclean’ the latter-day outcasts of our society.  Sadly, for many, the outcast ‘other’ often bears the name ‘immigrant,’ the poor, persons of color and our sisters and brothers of the LGBTQ community.   

No wonder, then, the Church calls us yearly to repent such sinfulness and uncleanness in our own hearts as we hear the yearly challenge to repentance on Ash Wednesday: Turn away from sin and believe in the Gospel

And so, as we begin our Lenten journey this Wednesday, as ashes are placed upon our foreheads, may we humbly seek that purity of heart that only the Master can give to each one of us, as we join the leper in today’s Gospel story in pleading with the Lord of mercy: “If you wish, you can make me clean.”
  

Sunday Reflection: Kairos time

Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery? 

In the first reading for today’s liturgy, Job ponders the question that has haunted many of our sisters and brothers down through the ages, Is not our life on earth a drudgery?  The Biblical story of Job, of course, easily draws him to this conclusion as he encounters the darkness and unfairness of life at every corner – plague, sickness and death.   

As we look at the time allotted to us in our own journey through life, time can be viewed from two differing perspectives.  In seeing ‘time’ as merely ‘one damn thing after another’ in a never-ending unfolding of meaninglessness, the Greek’s referred to such time as chronos.  Chronos time meanders in a disconnected way leading to Job’s conclusion of life as drudgery. 

For believers, however, ‘time’ can be viewed from a radically different perspective.  Time that is holds meaning, that is directed by purpose, that surprises us with joy even in the midst of life’s inevitable challenges, is called Kairos time. 

For Jesus and his disciples, chronos time gave way to Kairos time.  Every moment for the Lord held the possibility of seeing his Father at work redeeming and sanctifying human existence.  The healing stories that make up so much of the drama of the Gospels speak of time as Kairos – the in-breaking of God to mysteriously bring hope from despair, light from darkness, life from death. 

As we move through these plague-days, it is so very easy to see time as Job did, one despairing and de-spiriting damn day after another.  Or, you and I hold the possibility within us to see the days before us as Kairos time, with each moment and day that the Good Lord gives us as an opportunity to witness to the transforming and healing power of Christ to bring meaning and hope out of this moment.  

It might be as simple as calling a long-lost friend and reconnecting.  It might be helping an elderly person maneuvering through the on-line technology to schedule a covid vaccination.  It might be simply picking up food at the store for a neighbor.  These and countless other opportunities we have each day can transform chronos to Kairos as we celebrate the miracle of life that embraces us each day.

Sunday Reflection: Teaching with Authority

A new teaching with authority

I strongly suspect that in the course of our lives, there have been teachers and mentors that have made an indelible and lasting impression on our lives.  When we stop to ponder the simple question, “Why?” invariably, that question will be answered by such responses as, “They knew their subject and could communicate it effectively;” or “They taught more by the quality and authenticity of their lives outside the classroom as well as in the classroom;” or “They practiced what they preached!”   

To be a teacher or mentor that has a positive and lasting impact on one’s students involves teaching ‘with authority’ that has been garnered by humbling learning at the feet of others who imparted the wisdom of teaching with the quality of their lives. 

One of the simple yet profound titles that Jesus bore was ‘the teacher.’  Jesus continues to be an effective teacher because the good news that he taught was radiated by his life.  That teaching was far more exemplified by his open acceptance of those who were considered the outcasts of society – the marginal and the lowly.  That teaching gloried in bringing healing to the broken hearted and challenging the complacent with a reminder of the potential greatness that resides in every person. That teaching was more about love than judgment, inclusion than marginalization, mercy and forgiveness than exacting justice. 

No wonder, then, that when the people heard the words from his mouth and saw his gestures that reflected love and healing, they said, “he teaches with authority!”

 

Let us drink deeply from this teaching.  May it continue to shape our lives so that we, too, can be signs of his good news in our world today.