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
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 with joy as the chorus proclaims: "By man came also the resurrection of the dead" three times.
After a silence-filled pause the sequence is repeated. A minor chord leads into another a cappella passage: "For as in Adam all die, for as in Adam all die." That is followed by another joyful explosion as organ, orchestra and chorus proclaim: "Even so in Christ shall all be made alive" four times. This kind of 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--not even the magnificent Flutie to Phalen pass at Miami, or, to think of it, the glorious pass with which Penn State defeated Boston College in the 2014 Pinstripe Bowl. Both ends of this continuum represent an idea of faith that is fit only for a three year-old.
God created the world for mankind. God created us in His own image to be imperishable. We promptly rejected those gifts 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 reading. Faith, death, ritual impurity, the significance of a 12 year-old girl and a 12-year flow of blood. Sociology, medicine, theology, philosophy and more, all wrapped up in one reading.
The gospel includes what is sometimes called a "Markan Sandwich." A Markan sandwich begins with a narrative that is interrupted by a different self-contained narrative followed by the conclusion of the first narrative. The themes uniting both narratives 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 would be called dysfunctional uterine bleeding. Was it uterine cancer? Probably not. She would not have lived 12 years. Fibroids? Something else? No clue. She was not only continuously bleeding; she was also infertile. Infertility was understood as a great curse. But, because of the flow of uterine blood, merely being touched by her, intentionally or unintentionally, would transmit ritual impurity. That contagion of impurity was a very bad thing for all concerned.
Jesus actively risked ritual impurity by touching the young girl's 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 margins, a portico, a store overhang, the back porch, along with being treated with disdain by a certain self-righteous tribe. Suggest that animals have their place, and it 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 ill or simply old? Don't admit that at a cocktail party in Cambridge unless you want to be excluded from subsequent invitations. The sniffed retort would be, "I could never socialize with someone with such unenlightened views." We still believe in ritual impurity. We call it by other names, oftentimes ending with spurious designations as 'isms' 'ists' or, my all time favorite, "PHOBIA." We still believe in ritual impurity and its transmission. We still act against--or sue--those we presume to be infected with 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."
Jesus offers that life to all of us through faith, the faith of the woman who had heard about Jesus, who was sufficiently daring to mingle with a crowd to whom she could impart her impurity. She risked being beaten for that audacious move. She took the risk to touch Jesus' clothing so that she might be healed. Jesus offers 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' miracles did not cause faith. They were driven by it. 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 with the Church. He offers that healing in confession that removes the stain of the sins we consciously choose to commit. He offers that healing at Mass where we are privileged to hear His word and receive His Sacred Body and Blood.
In light of this great gift we sing with the psalmist:
"Hear O Lord, and have pity on me;
O Lord, be my helper.
You changed my mourning into dancing:
O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks."
"Hear O Lord, and have pity on me;
O Lord, be my helper.
You changed my mourning into dancing:
O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks."
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This is the time of the year for priestly ordinations, at least in Europe and the U.S. The photos below capture some young Jesuits. Fr. Henry J. Shea, SJ was ordained on 9 June 2018, a date that coincided with my 11th anniversary of ordination. On 12 July he celebrated a Mass of Thanksgiving at St. Patrick Manor, a nursing home run by the Carmelites for the Aged and Infirm--any woman thinking of religious life give them a call--where his grandmother is a guest. The joy of taking the photos was that I've known him since he was a freshman at Georgetown where he worked at the desk in the Jesuit residence. There was great joy in the community when he entered the novitiate, a joy that continues with his priestly ordination.
The story behind the chalice and paten is fascinating. It was given to his great-grandparents on their 50th wedding anniversary. It was to be given to the first man in the family who was ordained a priest. It is beautifully simple. May it get a lot of use.
Entrance into the chapel.
The consecration
Giving communion to his grandmother for the first time as a priest.
"Let us pray . . . "
Final blessing
The next photos are not mine. My friend Žiga Lovšin, a young (realllll young) Slovenian dentist who is also a pro photographer--and a very brave one as he does both still photos and videos of things such as weddings--sent these from the ordination of four Jesuit priests at sv. Jože (St. Joseph) Church in Ljubljana. Would have loved to have been there.
The Litany of the Saints, one of the most moving moments during the ordination.
The laying on of hands follows the litany. After the ordaining bishop lays on hands--the men approach him in his chair--all the priests in attendance proceed to do so. The man in the first photo is Fr. Ivan Bresciani, SJ, provincial in Slovenia. In the second is the line of priests silently praying for each of the men as he lays on hands. At the recent Jesuit ordinations in New York this part of the rite took approximately forty minutes to be complete.
All of the participants in the ordination Mass. The ordaining bishop is the Bishop of Maribor, the second largest city in Slovenia, located about 90 minutes (with some pedal to the metal action) to the north. He is also a Jesuit.
Pray for these men and those who are still in studies preparing for ordination.
+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD
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