Nice day in Boston. Cannot imagine the suffering of the people down in D.C. and surrounding suburbs who are enduring the after effects of the storm on Friday night: downed trees, no electric power and temps over 100. We remembered them in prayers at Mass a few minutes ago.
1 July 2012
Wis 1:13-15, 2:23-24
Ps 30:2,4,5,6,11-13,
2 Cor 8:7,9, 11-13
Mk 5:21-43
One of the most spectacular choruses in Handel's Messiah is
a study in contrast. In the superb
recording by Boston Baroque it begins with a short minor chord on the organ
after which the chorus sings a cappella: "Since
by man came death, since by man came death." Then the organ and orchestra
explode into joy as the chorus proclaims: "By man came also the
resurrection of the dead" three times. Another somber chord leads into another a cappella passage:
"For as in Adam all die, for as in Adam all die." That is followed by another explosion of
rejoicing as organ, orchestra and chorus proclaim: "Even so in Christ shall all be made
alive" four times. This contrast is apparent in today's
readings.
The first reading began with "God did not make death, nor
does he rejoice in the destruction of the living." God is not a sadistic marionetteer who
induces personal tragedy in random fashion. Nor is God a benign magician who
guides a desperation pass into the arms of a receiver in the end-zone. Both ends of this continuum represent a faith
that is fit only for three year-olds.
God created the world for humankind. God created us in His
own image to be imperishable. We
promptly rejected the gifts of that creation--we continue to reject the gifts
of that creation--for the hubris of being completely self-determining. Thus death entered the world. And so it remains: hubris, sin and death. But then we see hope in today's long Gospel reading.
It would be easy to spend most of a semester on this
particular Gospel passage. Faith, death,
ritual impurity, the significance of a 12 year-old girl and a 12 year duration
of blood flow. Sociology, medicine,
theology, philosophy and more, all wrapped up in one reading.
In the gospel we hear what is sometimes called a "Markan
Sandwich", the beginning of a narrative, then an interruption by another
self-contained narrative, and the conclusion of the first narrative. The themes uniting both are faith and the
most dire forms of ritual impurity: menstrual blood and death.
The woman was excluded from full-participation in the land
of the living by her chronic state of ritual impurity. That state was due to what today is called
dysfunctional uterine bleeding. She was
not only continuously bleeding but she was also infertile; itself a great
curse. Merely being touched by her,
unintentionally, as when she waded into the crowd, or intentionally, as when
she touched Jesus, would transmit that ritual impurity. That contagion of impurity was a very bad
thing for all concerned. In the
situation of the young girl Jesus risked ritual impurity by touching her dead
body. Of course today we are much too
sophisticated to believe in ritual impurity.
We are too modern to believe that contact with another individual could
defile or contaminate us. Yeah, right!
Try being a smoker. Banished
to the physical margins, a portico, a store overhang, the back porch, and being
treated with utter disdain by a certain self-righteous tribe. Suggest that animals have their place, a place that does not equal that of humans, and one may be castigated or accused--horror of
horrors--of being a "speciesist," whatever that might mean. Are you against abortion? Would you rather not kill grand pop because
he is demented? Don't admit that at a
cocktail party in Cambridge. "I
could never ever socialize with someone with such unenlightened views" would
be a plausible retort. We still believe
in ritual impurity. We call it by other
names but we still believe in it.
"Since by man came death, by man came also the
resurrection of the dead." We heard
this reiterated in the Alleluia verse:
"Our Savior Jesus Christ destroyed death and brought life to light
through the Gospel."
He offers that life to all of us through faith, the faith of
the woman who had heard about Jesus, a woman who was sufficiently daring to
mingle with a crowd to whom she could impart her impurity, to risk touching
Jesus' clothing so that she might be healed.
He offers that life to us through the faith of the little girl's father
who was willing to endure the crowd's ridicule to seek help for his daughter.
Jesus offers us the same.
He offers us the same healing in the sacraments of the Church: in
baptism that cleanses us from original sin and begins our journey into full
communion in the Church, in confession that removes the stain of the sins we
consciously choose to commit, and in the Mass where we are privileged to hear
His word and receive His body and blood.
In light of this great gift we can only sing with the
psalmist:
"You changed my mourning into dancing:
O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks."
___________________________________________
The photos below were taken in antique stores in Australia. I enjoy antique stores for photos because of the museum-like experience without the fussiness or the guards.
This is the outside of a combined free-range pig farm, restaurant (that serves a lot of pork) and antique store. The place is midway between Port Lincoln and Coffin Bay in South Australia. That particular field trip remains one of my favorite memories of the time spent in Port Lincoln at St. Mary of the Angels.
Inside one finds an old bicycle suspended from the ceiling.
And there was a typewriter. I learned to type on a next-generation version of this.
Some old office supplies. Not certain I would put the ink into one of my fountain pens.
And finally some of the progenitors of my Olympus E-510 camera.
+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD
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