Ez 2:2-5
Ps 123:1-4
2 Cor 12:7-10
Mk 6:1-6
What was the thorn in Paul's flesh? The second reading raises many questions. It supplies no answers. What was that nagging irritation that kept Paul from being too elated? What bothered him so much that he likened it to being beaten by an evil spirit? Don't bother trying to look up an answer. There is no agreement among scholars from Augustine to the present. The hypotheses cover a wide range including physical ailments such as eye disease, recurrent kidney stones, and migraine. St. John Chrysostom wondered if the thorn was the unending criticism and persecution by Paul's opponents who made his struggle to preach the gospel of the Lord difficult. Some commentators suggest temptations to power, pride, and even sexual lust. Others wonder if it was the burden of realizing that he was a sinner. Perhaps he was haunted by the guilt for persecuting Jesus' followers or his silent assent to Stephen's martyrdom. The possibilities are endless. In the end any of our answers or suggestions as to the nature of the thorn will say more about us, and the thorns that dig into our flesh, than they do about Paul.
How often do we cringe at a memory or wish we could forget how we hurt another? How often have we given into temptation only to be overwhelmed by guilt afterwards? The challenge is two-fold: first, to recognize the nature of the thorn that causes our distress, and second, to figure out what we need to do to remove it.
The last verse of the first reading from the Book of Ezekiel is fascinating. While giving Ezekiel his mission God warns him that it won't be easy, that not everyone will heed the prophecy. BUT . . . "whether they heed or resist they shall know that a prophet has been among them." This statement is reflected in the gospel.
Whether the people of Jesus' native place listened or closed their ears to the message of this local kid, they all knew there was something different about him. How else to account for their reactions? They might not have used the word prophet but there was something they couldn't figure out and, for most of the crowd, couldn't or wouldn't accept.
The gospel exposes some of the most satisfying yet self-destructive of all sins: smugness and prejudice. In his commentary on this passage, the late Jesuit scripture scholar, Father Dan Harrington described the crowd’s attitude as the “prejudice of familiarity.”
Smugness is defined as self-righteous complacency, conceitedness, and even pompousness. It is closely related to the prejudice of familiarity. It is the driver behind virtue-signaling.
Smugness leads some of us to hear this gospel and settle in comfortably with the assumption that: had Ibeen present at this scene I never would have criticized Jesus for being a local kid come back years later. Inever would have felt that Jesus was the boy from down the street who is so full of himself. In reality the odds are high that had many of us been standing with the crowd we would have said or felt the same things. We would have joined in the chorus of disapproval:
“just who does he think he is?”
“where did that son of a carpenter get all of this?”
"a little too big for his britches if ya' ask me."
Self-righteousness uninformed by facts can damage relationships with our community, our work, our family life, and just about everywhere else. Of course, at times we must be skeptical about the new prophet on the scene. There are many charming and convincing sociopaths wandering among us wearing the mantle of prophet. The dangerous hypocrisy of Elmer Gantry, in the book and movie of the same name, has haunted me for over twenty years. The revival preacher was a conniving shill.
It is a challenge to first recognize and then heed the “prophets” who live among us, the teachers in our families, the experts about whom we think
"I remember him when . . . "
"I remember when she was . . ."
"I won't believe anything he says, he is a __________
(fill in the name of the political party you most despise)"
Human nature has not improved in the two millennia since Jesus' birth.
I'm not optimistic that it will.
Destructive prejudicial pride and smugness cause us to exert premature closure on something we may need to hear. They are the primary drivers of "cancellation culture" one of the most terrifying trends in the U.S. Sometimes it is a relief to realize I am much closer to death than to middle age, as some days it seems we are reliving the reign of Jiang Qing, aka Madam Mao Zedong, and her Red Guard, reeducation camps included in the name of sensitivity training and its spawn. Sometimes it is a relief to realize that as I move through my early seventies I am much closer to death than middle-age.
Smugness causes us to reject truth out of hand simply because we know the messenger or at least know about the messenger. The prejudice of familiarity and smugness remain particular risks today in society, in families, among coworkers, and for some of us, in our religious communities.
With apologies to Walt Kelly and his most famous Pogo cartoon strip: "We have met the faithless people and they are us."
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There was no homily last week as I was at the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Connecticut. A Chinese priest friend was with me. I asked him to preach on two of the four days we were there. Sunday was one of them. He is an excellent preacher. Will go back down to the Abbey at the end of this month, alas without Father who has other commitments for that weekend.
The photos are from Mt. Equinox in Manchester, VT. One of the best venues I've ever been in for landscape photography.
Raindrops on roses, daisies, and leaves is one of the most cliched of all photos on photographer web sites. But it is also fun. So, I continue to shoot.
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