Acts 14:21-27
Ps 145
Rev 21:1-5a
Jn 13:31a, 34-35
The reading from Acts sounds as if Paul and Barnabas could
have benefited from a GPS unit or at least Map Quest. They certainly covered some ground. At times Acts has the sense of a travelogue,
describing the difficult work involved in spreading the message of Jesus
crucified, risen from the dead, and ascended to the Father. Much was happening as the community began to
cohere. Acts gives us some of that
history. On Tuesday we heard “and it was
in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.” As
Paul, Barnabas and the others spread out the Church was gaining an identity,
and the believers gained a name which would serve to give a concise description
of them, a name that would accrue more and more associations—positive and
negative—over the ensuing millennia. These associations to the word Christian
emerged, and continue to emerge, from observations of how Christians conducted
themselves in the public arena.
This phenomenon was well illustrated in a fine book by
Rodney Stark titled, The Rise of
Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History in which he studied the
period covered by Acts and into the first two or three centuries. It is important to note that even then
abortion was absolutely forbidden.
The first reading from Acts gives us history. It is anchored in a specific time and
location. In contrast, the reading from
Revelation indicates a point well-beyond the horizon. It tells us of what is to come. The images are strange. They are strange
because that is the only way to describe that which we cannot know in this
life. The reading does not tell us the
how or the when. But it assures us that
we will be transformed. We will be transformed in that instant--and it is only
an instant--when we pass from life into eternal life. We can take great comfort knowing “there
shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain for the old order has
passed away.” What greater consolation
is there? What greater consolation can
there be? Pain. Suffering.
Sorrow. All will come to an
end.
Our identity as Christians, our identity as Catholics, is
anchored in Jesus’ command at the end of the Gospel. “I give you a new commandment: love one
another. As I have loved you, so you
also should love one another.” That
identity should be apparent if we follow Jesus’ command. That is the problem. Living that command. Living it on a day to day basis.
Back in the seventies, an unhappy liturgical era when some
truly awful songs were foisted upon us under the guise of hymns, one of the
most annoying and wrongheaded ones featured a thumping marching chorus with the
stunningly self-aggrandizing lyric: “They
will know we are Christians by our love, by our love. They will knoow woooo we are
Christians by our love.” Sung too
vigorously that last know wo sounded like the communal passing of a kidney
stone.
Musical value: none
Narcissism index: off
the chart.
While nothing will ever help the melody, if the verse went,
they SHOULD know we are Christians IF they see our love, the sentiment would be
less narcissistic and more descriptive of a goal that this gospel places before
us. There is nothing wrong with the
conditional sense rather than a definitive statement. Rather than assuming that
we manifest our love so perfectly that others will immediately see us as
different, it is more realistic—and a more humble stance—to admit that we have
to work at it. Just because we proclaim
ourselves Christians it doesn’t mean that the love part follows
automatically.
The psalm assures us:
“The Lord is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger and of great kindness.
The Lord is good to all
and compassionate toward all his works.”
This describes the Lord only. We have to work very hard at it.
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In Boston parlance it was a wicked busy week. Tomorrow is the first day in about 28 that I am not celebrating Mass somewhere outside of Campion. Definite sleep in plans. That means about 8 at the latest and more than likely earlier than that.
Some photos from Maribor, Slovenia. All of these were taken early in the AM. Most mornings I had the option after Mass to have breakfast or to go out with the camera. It was an easy decision. The bread would still be there when I returned but the warm morning light would have changed had I eaten first.
Outdoor cafe. The temp was in the 40's. Slovenians are very hardy people. Note the blankets over the backs of the chairs. Peter wondered about sitting outdoors to drink coffee one day when the temp was in the 50's. I wondered about his sanity. We had the coffee indoors.
A pair of swans. Today I learned that a group of swans is called a bevy.
Central Square.
The morning commute with the central square reflected in the store windows.
+Fr Jack, SJ, MD
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