St. Scholastica, virgin
(I Kings 10:1-10; Mark 7:14-23)
There is a charming story about St. Scholastica which illustrates the assertion of Jesus about over-concern with the law in the gospel today. Scholastica used to meet with her twin brother, the venerable St. Benedict, once a year in a little house outside the famous Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino. On one of these occasions when both were very old, they were having such a wonderful conversation that Scholastica wanted to stay there talking through the night. Benedict resisted, however, because of his own monastic rule. Then the heavens opened with a tremendous rainstorm forcing Benedict to concede to his sister’s wish. The downpour seemed to manifest God’s will that the siblings have this extra time together before they died.
Like Scholastica’s intuition that it would be all right for her brother to spend long hours in conversation with her, Jesus in the gospel judges it possible to eat non-kosher foods. Doing so, he invites non-Jews as well as Jews into his Father’s Kingdom. We can add that it is permissible, perhaps even necessary, to suspend laws and regulations at times to realize a greater good. A simple example is absenting oneself from Sunday mass because of sickness. Of course, good judgment in these cases requires prudence. Without such virtue selfishness, and not desire to realize a clearly greater good, may direct our action.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Tuesday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time
(I Kings 8:22-23.27-30; Mark 7:1-11)
Is cleanliness next to Godliness? We used to say so, but the gospel today may give us second thoughts. Jesus spurns the Pharisees and scribes for adhering to purity traditions that ensure the fulfillment of the Law while ignoring the intent of the Law. The Law purports to guide people to virtue. As interpreted by the men who come to Jesus in the gospel today, it makes people contemptuous.
Still Eucharistic ministers are given pause when they see a child extend dirty hands to receive the Body of Christ. Are these ministers contemptuous if they lecture the little one afterwards about the need to wash one’s hands before receiving Communion? This is hardly so since they suspect with good reason that the child is careless or, at least, uninstructed about what he or she is doing. Jesus admonishes the Pharisees in the gospel for similar shallowness.
So is cleanliness next to Godliness? It is when we are talking of cleanliness of heart. In the heart we fit our actions to our religious beliefs. We must take care to do this without allowing contempt or any other vice to defile our efforts.
(I Kings 8:22-23.27-30; Mark 7:1-11)
Is cleanliness next to Godliness? We used to say so, but the gospel today may give us second thoughts. Jesus spurns the Pharisees and scribes for adhering to purity traditions that ensure the fulfillment of the Law while ignoring the intent of the Law. The Law purports to guide people to virtue. As interpreted by the men who come to Jesus in the gospel today, it makes people contemptuous.
Still Eucharistic ministers are given pause when they see a child extend dirty hands to receive the Body of Christ. Are these ministers contemptuous if they lecture the little one afterwards about the need to wash one’s hands before receiving Communion? This is hardly so since they suspect with good reason that the child is careless or, at least, uninstructed about what he or she is doing. Jesus admonishes the Pharisees in the gospel for similar shallowness.
So is cleanliness next to Godliness? It is when we are talking of cleanliness of heart. In the heart we fit our actions to our religious beliefs. We must take care to do this without allowing contempt or any other vice to defile our efforts.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Monday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time
(I Kings 8:1-7.9-13; Mark 6:53-56)
There’s an old story about a chicken and a pig planning the farmer’s birthday. The chicken says to the pig, “Why don’t we give the farmer a breakfast of bacon and eggs?” The pig responds, “Wait a minute. For you, it’s a small donation. For me it’s total sacrifice.”
Humans have always sacrificed animals to express their gratefulness to God. In the account of the dedication of Solomon’s temple today, “sheep and oxen too many to number or count” are offered to the Lord. Because animals are so vital for the welfare of the people, they actually represent the people themselves. The reading today is saying that the people are attempting to give themselves over fully to God in thanksgiving.
Perhaps as often as not, however, sacrifices of humans are imperfect. People do not present to God the best that they have, but the expendable. Their offerings do not represent a commitment of the heart but, like a lie, an artful deceit. This is why Jesus has to sacrifice himself. Representing all of humanity because he is its creator and flawless example, Jesus makes the perfect sacrifice to God the Father. Of course, Jesus does not immolate himself but thoroughly exhausts himself in bringing about his Father’s Kingdom. Because his efforts are too good for the egotism of the world to bear, he is condemned to death. Then, in determined resignation, the sacrifice is completed on the cross. Now humans are really given to God.
(I Kings 8:1-7.9-13; Mark 6:53-56)
There’s an old story about a chicken and a pig planning the farmer’s birthday. The chicken says to the pig, “Why don’t we give the farmer a breakfast of bacon and eggs?” The pig responds, “Wait a minute. For you, it’s a small donation. For me it’s total sacrifice.”
Humans have always sacrificed animals to express their gratefulness to God. In the account of the dedication of Solomon’s temple today, “sheep and oxen too many to number or count” are offered to the Lord. Because animals are so vital for the welfare of the people, they actually represent the people themselves. The reading today is saying that the people are attempting to give themselves over fully to God in thanksgiving.
Perhaps as often as not, however, sacrifices of humans are imperfect. People do not present to God the best that they have, but the expendable. Their offerings do not represent a commitment of the heart but, like a lie, an artful deceit. This is why Jesus has to sacrifice himself. Representing all of humanity because he is its creator and flawless example, Jesus makes the perfect sacrifice to God the Father. Of course, Jesus does not immolate himself but thoroughly exhausts himself in bringing about his Father’s Kingdom. Because his efforts are too good for the egotism of the world to bear, he is condemned to death. Then, in determined resignation, the sacrifice is completed on the cross. Now humans are really given to God.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Memorial of St. Agatha, virgin and martyr
(Sirach 47:2-11; Mark 6:14-29)
The word enigma comes from a Greek word meaning riddle. An enigma is more than what meets the eye. Or, we might say, an enigma confounds the eye. To some people Senator Jesse Helms was an enigma. He seemed to oppose attempts by government to assist the needy, yet he and his wife adopted a child with a severe physical challenge. In the first half of the narratives of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus appears to observers as enigmatic. He works wonders like the prophet Elijah. He confronts hypocrites like Amos or other prophets. He announces the kingdom of God like John the Baptist. Demons know his true identity, but it is elusive to other humans.
Haunted by guilt, Herod Antipas supposes that Jesus must be the reincarnation of the Baptist whose head he capriciously had chopped off. A few chapters later in this gospel Peter will correctly name Jesus as the Messiah, but no one will understand what that term means until he dies on the cross. Then the Roman centurion, an objective witness, will proclaim Jesus the “son of God” after observing his innocence and faithfulness lived out to the last breath. On the third day Jesus will rise from the dead so that all doubts may clear away. Jesus is no longer an enigma but, indeed, the most sterling truth for one to grasp in life.
(Sirach 47:2-11; Mark 6:14-29)
The word enigma comes from a Greek word meaning riddle. An enigma is more than what meets the eye. Or, we might say, an enigma confounds the eye. To some people Senator Jesse Helms was an enigma. He seemed to oppose attempts by government to assist the needy, yet he and his wife adopted a child with a severe physical challenge. In the first half of the narratives of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus appears to observers as enigmatic. He works wonders like the prophet Elijah. He confronts hypocrites like Amos or other prophets. He announces the kingdom of God like John the Baptist. Demons know his true identity, but it is elusive to other humans.
Haunted by guilt, Herod Antipas supposes that Jesus must be the reincarnation of the Baptist whose head he capriciously had chopped off. A few chapters later in this gospel Peter will correctly name Jesus as the Messiah, but no one will understand what that term means until he dies on the cross. Then the Roman centurion, an objective witness, will proclaim Jesus the “son of God” after observing his innocence and faithfulness lived out to the last breath. On the third day Jesus will rise from the dead so that all doubts may clear away. Jesus is no longer an enigma but, indeed, the most sterling truth for one to grasp in life.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Thursday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
(I Kings 2:1-4.10-12; Mark 6:7-13)
St. Dominic founded the Order of Preachers as a response to a missionary necessity. Many people, especially in southern France, were attracted to Catharism, a religion that taught the dualism of matter and spirit. What is spiritual, the Catharists believed, is good and what is material is evil. Fine food, drink, even sex between married partners were eschewed. Truth and goodness were to be embraced. For all the abuse that people make of material things we can see how Catharist ideas would have appeal among simple people.
Monks galloping on horses from well-endowed estates had little success in checking the Catharist distortion. Their near betrayal of poverty seemed only to confirm what the dualists were teaching. Dominic dreamed of a different tact. He would form a group of men who would beg for the food they ate and go on foot – two by two -- to preach truth to the people. Actually much of Dominic’s program is based on today’s gospel. Jesus sends his disciples out with the same scarcity of physical resources – “no food, no sack, no money in their belts.” However, they go forth with spiritual power to cast out demons and to cure the sick. Their effect, as we shall read in Saturday’s mass, is considerable.
These stories challenge us to re-examine our lives. They make us ask if our possessions might not give a counter-message concerning what we treasure most. More than that, they urge us to seek spiritual values – truth, beauty, and goodness -- before material goods and to find satisfaction in doing the Lord’s work.
(I Kings 2:1-4.10-12; Mark 6:7-13)
St. Dominic founded the Order of Preachers as a response to a missionary necessity. Many people, especially in southern France, were attracted to Catharism, a religion that taught the dualism of matter and spirit. What is spiritual, the Catharists believed, is good and what is material is evil. Fine food, drink, even sex between married partners were eschewed. Truth and goodness were to be embraced. For all the abuse that people make of material things we can see how Catharist ideas would have appeal among simple people.
Monks galloping on horses from well-endowed estates had little success in checking the Catharist distortion. Their near betrayal of poverty seemed only to confirm what the dualists were teaching. Dominic dreamed of a different tact. He would form a group of men who would beg for the food they ate and go on foot – two by two -- to preach truth to the people. Actually much of Dominic’s program is based on today’s gospel. Jesus sends his disciples out with the same scarcity of physical resources – “no food, no sack, no money in their belts.” However, they go forth with spiritual power to cast out demons and to cure the sick. Their effect, as we shall read in Saturday’s mass, is considerable.
These stories challenge us to re-examine our lives. They make us ask if our possessions might not give a counter-message concerning what we treasure most. More than that, they urge us to seek spiritual values – truth, beauty, and goodness -- before material goods and to find satisfaction in doing the Lord’s work.
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