Blessed are They who Mourn: Homily for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

  

Zep 2:3, 3:12-13

Ps 146:6-7,8-9, 9-10

1 Cor 1:26-31

Mt 5:1-12a

 

Sometimes the only question for the editors of the lectionary, the book of readings and gospels for every day of the year, is why?  What is the rationale for editorial decision that cut out the middle of a particular text and drastically change its meaning? Today's first reading is a case in point.

 

The reading from Zephaniah is not continuous. The editors joined chapter 2 verse 3 to chapter 3 verses 12 and 13.  The result is consoling.  It is almost idyllic.  That is the problem.  The twenty-three deleted verses comprise a list of prophecies of doom, death, destruction, and punishment.  Only after the destruction do we hear of the protected remnant, only then do we learn of the promised consolation. 

 

Peace doesn’t just happen.  It may be preceded by turmoil and strife, conflict and confusion.  Peace and comfort preceded by turmoil and chaos  is an accurate description of life as we live it, of life as it was lived during the writer's time, and of life as it will always be lived. Turmoil followed by consolation.

 

The responsorial, Psalm 146, is the first of the five hymns that bring the magnificent Book of Psalms to a close.  Unlike much of what precedes them, we do not hear pleas such as "Why, O Lord?" or  “How long O God, how long?” We don’t hear laments such as “Out of the depths I cry to You.” These last five psalms are songs of praise and thanksgiving.  Each begins and ends with Hallelujah that translates as Praise the Lord; the Lord who keeps faith forever, who gives sight to the blind, who sustains the widow, and promises that those who mourn shall be comforted.

 

Psalm 146 prepares us for the extremely well-known and familiar Gospel.

Though many have that impression, Matthew's Beatitudes are not the entire Sermon on the Mount.  They are only part of  a very long and wide-ranging teaching that spans several chapters of Matthew’s gospel.  Despite their apparent simplicity and directness the beatitudes are as challenging as anything in scripture. They have been used and misused, interpreted and misinterpreted, updated and bowdlerized to push social agendas by both the left and the right.   One can justify almost anything through skillful use of words and concepts in relation to the beatitudes.  . . . With one exception. 

 

The exception is the beatitude that is generally ignored by preachers, activists, demonstrators, and social justice warriors.  “Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

 

Poverty, peace, hunger, and persecution are headline grabbers. They offer preachers and politicians a chance to mount the political soapbox or politicize the pulpit so as to rail, rant, or speak in bumper sticker language.  They are an opportunity for passionate and sometimes inflammatory sermons in the manner of Elmer Gantry.

 

Mourning does not get headlines.  Grieving doesn't make the front page.  And inevitably the ridiculous concept of "closure" is included somewhere in a column or story.  Closure doesn’t exist in the world of those who mourn.  It doesn’t happen.  And introducing it into a conversation with those who mourn gives no comfort whatsoever.  Mourning doesn't get headlines because it is personal, private, and solitary.

 

Those who are mourning may make those who are not mourning uncomfortable by their very presence.  People are poor together.  Groups suffer injustice.  Persecution is systemic.  Mourning is solitary. Mourning is solitary even when the loss is shared.  No two people grieve in the same way, even when grieving the death of the same person. 

 

Those who do not mourn will say or do anything to push aside the pain and anxiety the other is experiencing, in part because those emotions are contagious, a very bad thing in a Pollyanna society that preaches closure. 

 

Mourning is among  the most lonely and isolating of human experiences.  While most people who hear the words mourning or grief will ask “Who died?” mourning and grief are triggered by other significant losses:  The loss of another through death is obvious.  But the loss of another through a dementing disorder, the loss of independence upon moving from home into a nursing home, the loss of one's driver's license, all of these can trigger grief and mourning even before the secondary losses are considered.

 

The difficulty with mourning and grieving is that no one can do the work of mourning for another. There are no substitutions or pinch-hitters allowed. No medication “helps.”  Oftentimes attempts to comfort those who mourn fall along the spectrum of clumsy, infuriating, and damaging.  There is no rallying cry for those who mourn. There is no social justice solution for mourning.  There is no preferential option for those who mourn.  There is no answer except compassion and the willingness to listen to the one who mourns without trying to make the pain go away or paint a rosy picture of "closure."

 

Mourning is the great leveler. It brings both peasant and dictator to their knees in pain, rage, fear, and sorrow.  It sets off  deep hunger in the one who can barely afford bread as well as the obese celebrity TV chef.  Those who mourn do not know peace.  Unlike the poor, the persecuted, or  the oppressed  for whom government programs are designed, there is nothing for those who mourn except to hope for comfort while trying to get from day to day. Those who mourn are alone, oftentimes abandoned by family, friends, and others within weeks of the loss. Those who weep in grief are isolated from the rest of society. 

 

No writer ever described grief and the anguish of mourning as effectively as C.S. Lewis in the opening sentence of A Grief Observed, the small journal he kept

following the death of his wife from bone cancer.

 

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. 

I am not afraid,

but the sensation is like being afraid. 

The same fluttering in the stomach,

the same restlessness, the yawning. 

I keep on swallowing.”

 

Frightened. Lonely.  Hungry.  Isolated.  Overwhelmed. 

 

Blessed are they who mourn, may they be comforted.

_________________________________________ 

 The photos are from Brezje and  Lake Bled in Slovenia.  Only got there once as the chaplain to celebrate Mass for an international group of businessmen and businesswomen for whom English was the only common language (Poland, Croatia, Hungary, and Austria were represented).  I never had the opportunity to go back.  I generally choose not to drive when out of the US.  This was one of those times.  

 

The altar in the Shrine of Our Lady Help of Christians, the most visited pilgrimage site in Slovenia.  I celebrate Mass at this altar.  As I was facing ad oriens, the only option, I was surprised to see how many people joined the Mass.  I suspect hearing English was part of the draw. 

Given the optioin I will always take shots of votive lights a custom I observe whenever possible.

A sculpture depicting the Holy Family.   The cros in the middle is several hundred yards distant.  However, I was told that if I knelt and looked through it would "fit."  Alas, it had just stopped raining, I was wearing the only "good" slacks I had, and I did not want to kneel in the mud.  The view from the other side includes the shrine silmilarly fitting into the ope spapce. 

Lake Bled is one of the most frequently visited tourist attractions in Slovenia.  The rain had finally stopped as we were on the way back to LJ.  A faint and gorgeous sunset hung in the air.  This was converted to black and white.  

The sunset.  The island on which a church is situatied can be faintly seen.

Bled Castle is the oldest castle in Slovnia dating from the early 11th century.  The mist and overall grayness made the shooting difficult and even more difficult to process, particularly in color.  Black and white conversion was the only answer.  It looms above everything. 

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

To Dwell in the House of the Lord: Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Ordinary Time

  

Is 8:23-9:3

Ps 27:1,4,13-14

1 Cor 1:10-13,17

Mt 4:12-23

 

In its introductory essay to the Book of Isaiah the Jewish Study Bible notes: "Isaiah is perhaps the best-loved of the prophetic books.  It is the most cited prophetic text in rabbinic literature."  The same can be said of the importance of Isaiah for the Catholic Church. 

 

There are questions. Was Isaiah speaking of Christ?  Was he speaking of something else entirely?  Biblical scholars are all over the place on the answer.  Agreement is unlikely.   

 

The same essay explains two important aspect of Isaiah. The first is his name. Semitic names often consisted of sentences that described God; In Hebrew the name Isaiah means "The Lord saves."  Secondly, it clarifies why the reading we just heard was in the past tense.  Recall:

"The people who have walked in darkness,

have seen a great light;

You have brought them abundant joy . . . ." 

 

The use of the past tense in prophecies is an example of the  "the prophetic past tense."  The prophetic past predicts future events using the past tense to signify that those events are already as good as done.  The prophetic past tense is rooted in the faith and hope that what we ask of the Lord and what the Lord has promised, is as good as done, even if the present is not as we would want it to be, even if the present bears no resemblance to what God has promised. 

 

Paul was unhappy with the Corinthians when he wrote in response to reports about abuses in the Church at Corinth.  He addressed those abuses in the first six chapters of his letter.  They included: divisions among the faithful, a case of incest, lawsuits among Christians, and sins against chastity.  Apparently, it is true that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

"I urge you . . . in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that . . . you agree in what you say . . . that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose." Paul is not suggesting that Christians cannot disagree on earthly affairs:  say politics, covid vaccinations, or the merits of the Patriots vs. the Denver Broncos.  Paul is referring to the unity of Church teaching and the belief of her members.  He is decrying the divisive sectarianism that today is oftentimes driven by idiosyncratic attempts to fashion a Jesus who fits the speaker’s or group’s agenda.

 

Paul’s letter is an important corrective to myths of a golden age of agreement and concord even in the earliest days of the Church and the unlikely possibility of unity in the future.

“Come follow me.  And I will make you fishers of men.”  That last is not a very specific job description either for them or for us today. But yet they went.

 

When we heed Jesus' summons we enter into an open-ended project without much of a description.  But through this call to follow Him Jesus surrounded himself first, with the apostles and then with other disciples, Some accepted the summons immediately and without equivocation.  Some rejected the call for the flimsiest of reasons.  Others initially followed but then said “I’m outta’ here.” 

 

To be called by Jesus is to be called into His mission  that is mediated and supported by the Church. It is not supported or helped by the cafeteria Catholic who picks and chooses what he or she will believe while rejecting other dogma, the type who may invoke vague generalities about Jesus and love to push an agenda but say, “I really can't get into that Real Presence stuff.”  The type who will rationalize the meaning of thou shalt not kill, so as to permit abortion, the killing of sick elderly, and even the chemical interruption of a child’s puberty

to follow what is ultimately a delusion.

 

Friday’s March for Life—the 53^rd  since Roe—was a needed reminder of how far we have to go before vulnerable life is protected from premature and intentional termination.  Alas, a 54^th annual march will be necessary next year.

 

Paul’s letter reminds us that the Church is not perfect.  It never was and never will be.  It is, after all, made up entirely of sinners from top to bottom.  However, it is what has come down through two millennia by preaching the salvation found in Jesus, the same Jesus who is present in the midst of the assembly, who is found in the words of Scripture, the same Jesus whose Real Presence in the Eucharist is a offered to us daily. 

 

We heard in the psalm:

"One thing I ask of the Lord, this I seek:

to dwell in the house of the Lord

all the days of my life,

that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord

and contemplate his Temple"

 

Sit with that prayer.

Meditate on those images.

They will yield much fruit.

____________________________________________-

There was no homily last week as I got snowed in at St. Joseph Trappist Abbey.  I'd come out for my usual monthly visit.  The snow was not predicted.  The Abbey is on a hill, a rather steep one.  By 4 PM it was obvious that leaving was not possible.  Apparently the surrounding roads were fairly awful as well.  Departed later in the morning.  Things improved roadwise the closer I got to Boston.  I am posting this from there  as I try to catch up with meetings that had to be canceled.

 

Fr. Jack, SJ, MD 

The Voice Over the Waters: Homily for The Baptism of the Lord

 

Is 42:1-4,6-7

Ps 29:1-2, 3-4, 3, 9-10

Acts 10:34-38

Mt 3:13-17

 

Back in the days of black and white TV the most popular feature on the Art  Linkletter show was a segment titled: “Kids Say the Darndest Things.”  Truer words have rarely been spoken.  Kids do say the darndest things. But they oftentimes get it right. 

 

Several years ago my former resident Nick called. He was laughing.  He and his wife Susan had been showing photos of their second daughter's baptism to Sophie, their firstborn who was about three. Sophie was pointing out various participants in the photo taken around the fount:  ‘There's mommy.  That’s daddy. There's nana and grandpop.  That's me.”   She then pointed to the white vested white haired priest and asked, “Is that Jesus?”  Her parents dissolved into helpless laughter.  But, Sophie got it right.  She got it right not by confusing the priest with Jesus,--I was that priest and her parents knew better. She got it right by apprehending Jesus’ presence at her sister’s baptism. 

 

In the Church's liturgical year the Baptism of the Lord heralds the end of the Christmas season.  Tomorrow we resume ordinary time and green vestments until Ash Wednesday on February 18.  Jesus’ baptism marks the beginning of his public ministry.  There is no disputing that He was baptized.  All four Gospel recount the event.  There is the usual variance in the descriptions of the details,  but all four gospels describe Jesus’ baptism by John.  The importance of Jesus’ baptism does not depend on how it was performed-pouring, total immersion, partial immersion--but on the significance of that baptism.  That is where Sophie’s question becomes relevant and theologically sophisticated. 

 

The readings, the Psalm, and the Gospel are all concerned with that significance as well as the meaning of Jesus' baptism.

 

The majority of first readings during Advent and the Christmas Season come from Isaiah, particularly the section called the Servant Songs.  The servant, as described in today’s reading, accomplishes his mission with quiet strength rather than brute force.  One commentator notes that the images of a bruised reed and a smoldering wick indicate the servant’s gentle respect for others—and perhaps his awareness of a hint of strength in their weakness. 

 

That describes Jesus' public life.  The public life in which he forgave the woman caught in adultery, while admonishing her to sin no more. It was the public life in which Jesus cleansed lepers but wondered why most failed to give thanks. It was the public life in which Jesus harshly confronted the money changers in the Temple with a whip and shouted accusations. It was the life in which Jesus prayed from the cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."

 

Peter’s words elaborate Isaiah’s prophecy.  But, rather than speaking prophetically, he is speaking historically. After a brief synopsis of Jesus’ baptism and public ministry, he notes that it was possible only because “God was with him.  In truth I see that God shows no partiality.  Rather, in every nation whoever fears him and acts uprightly is acceptable to him.” 

 

Peter's confident assertion that God shows no partiality is important.  Being acceptable to God is not exclusive to the oppressed, acceptability to God is not limited to the poor. That acceptability is not denied to the socially advantaged or the multi-millionaire though many would like it to be. It does not matter if one is economically disadvantaged or beyond wealthy. It is irrelevant if one belongs to the in-crowd or is hopelessly nerdy.

 

Our economic status, or lack of it, does not make us acceptable to God, nor does our poverty or sense of oppression.  We become acceptable to God by how we respond to His goodness and how we respond to His presence in our lives. 

 

The poor, the immigrant, the oppressed are just as capable of sin and evil as the wealthy.  And both groups fulfill that potential with consistency. Living in faith is what ultimately matters. 

 

"The voice of the Lord is over the waters

The Lord over the vast waters.

The voice of the Lord is mighty

The voice of the Lord is majestic."

 

These words from the psalm reflect the Gospel  in which we hear God’s voice as Jesus emerges from the water:  “This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.”  John the Baptist’s role has come to an end.  The one whose coming he heralded has arrived.  John must now fade into the background. 

 

There are three interpretations of baptism in the New Testament. The first and most obvious is washing. That washing includes forgiveness of sin.  But sin was the sole human characteristic Jesus did not share with us. Thus, that interpretation is irrelevant to Jesus’ baptism.

 

The second understanding is that of dying and rising.  Baptism presaged the baptism of blood Jesus was to undergo.  For us the waters of baptism symbolize and remind us of dying so as to live again. 

 

The third understanding is that of new birth in the Spirit.

 

One element unites all three understandings. This is where Sophie proved herself to be a three-year old theologian.  In all three understandings of baptism: washing, dying and rising, or new birth in the spirit, Jesus is present.  Perhaps He is smiling.  He may be looking on with concern and love, rather like Nick and Susan were at their daughters' baptism.  Was Jesus’ hand supporting Maya as I anointed her with the oil of catechumens  and poured the water of baptism on her head?

 

The name Sophie means ‘wisdom.’  With the wisdom of the child, who can see around corners and see the faint shadows that are invisible to adult eyes, she showed that she understood this celebration of the Baptism of the Lord. 

 

Jesus, like us in all things but sin, received the waters of baptism.  He is present when we receive those same waters.  He remains with us forever. 

 

_________________________________________________

 

The photos are a study of a bicycle that was leaning against a stone building in Sevenhill, South Australia.  We made our long retreat there during tertianship.  I was fascinated by the bike and shot it several times.  No need for commentary. 

 

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Homily for the Feast of the Epiphany

 

Is 60:1-6

Ps 72

Eph 3:2-6

Mt 2:1-12

 

Despite custom and tradition, the Feast of Epiphany has nothing to do with Kings. 

 

We just heard in the gospel,  “behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem.”  There was no number given. They were not named.  But, human nature being what it is designated them as three and named them. The number came from the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh backed by the assumption that it was one gift per magus, the singular of magi.  Kasper, Melchior, and Balthazar?  Sounds like a law firm advertising on late-night TV.  However they were never named in the Gospels. They are anonymous just as we are.  They are the root of some interesting traditions that vary by country and ethnicity and are significant for what they represent.

 

I don’t know if the custom continues back home in Northeastern PA, but when I was an altar boy almost seventy years ago, some of us got a day out of school to accompany the priest as he blessed the homes of parishioners. This was true in the Polish, Slovak, and Lithuanian churches in town.  It was not done at St. Vincent’s, the Irish church. But then, they did not eat pierogi on Christmas Eve either.  Pity.

 

After the blessing Father used chalk to inscribe the initials, K, M, and B with a cross between each letter and the number of the current year on the lintel. And the homeowner generally handed over a few cookies to nibble on in the car.  How we got through those seasons without developing diabetes remains a mystery.  Many other traditions have grown up around the Feast of the Epiphany.  But they have little to do with reality or the meaning of Jesus’ birth.

 

The word epiphany derives from two Greek roots: pheinein: to show and epi:  forth. Thus Epiphany means to show forth, to reveal, to manifest.  One formal definition of an epiphany is, "a sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something, a comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization." 

 

The intuitive realization of Jesus as Messiah is the perfect description for this feast.  That intuition was symbolized by the star not by the magi. who were not kings.  The word ‘king’ for the magi as well as their names came into use only in the sixth century. 

 

In the end the number of magi, whether they had royal status, and their names are irrelevant distractions.  The Magi are important because they represent the first Gentiles to worship Jesus. They were the first gentiles to realize and comprehend that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah

 

There are more epiphanies of Jesus scattered throughout the Gospels.  Most important to realize on this feast are the multiple personal epiphanies of Jesus scattered throughout our lives if we are willing and able to recognize them in faith.

 

We just heard in the gospel,  "When King Herod heard of this he was greatly troubled and all Jerusalem with him."  Herod's jealousy, duplicity, and rage bring us closer to the reality of Christmas than do the lyrics of  "O Little Town of Bethlehem."   We see the first shadow of the cross in Herod's evil desires. "Go and search diligently for the child.  When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage."  Fortunately the magi, worthy of their titles as wise men, did not believe the crazed megalomaniac and changed their return route.  Their failure to return with the information sent Herod over the edge into a murderous rampage of male children under the age of two. 

 

Once we wash away the treacle, set aside the sloppy sentimentality, and forever dissociate the word ‘magic’ from Christmas, we can begin to understand the true meaning of Christmas.  We can begin to understand that what we call the "Christmas story." did not end when the magi returned home, wherever that might have been. 

 

What general society calls the Christmas story describes the beginning of the Christ-event,  an event that is the total arc of Jesus’ life, from incarnation and birth, through his hidden life, his teaching, his passion, death, resurrection and ascension.  We cannot afford to dissociate Jesus’ birth from the rest of His life. The wood of the manger in Bethlehem led to the wood of the cross on Calvary. We cannot and must never, separate the wood of the manger from the wood of the cross. Understanding that is part of a true epiphany.

 

The late Dag Hammarskjöld summarized the reality of Epiphany and the entire liturgical year in a haiku written in the small personal journal  found following his murder in the Belgian Congo.  Published under the name Markings, it has never been out of print despite the lapse of over five decades.

 

Using only seventeen words he reminded us that Christmas does not stand alone.

 

"On Christmas Eve, Good Friday

was foretold them

in a trumpet fanfare."

 

The trumpet fanfares and Gloria in Excelsis Deo of Christmas have meaning only when we experience the silence of Good Friday and the shock of the empty tomb that lead to the Alleluias we will sing in April.    

 

______________________________

 

Tertianship in Australia in 2011 was a highlight of my life.  Except for the long retreat the ultimate highlight those eight months was the five-week "experiment" in Port Lincoln, South Australia.  I was the only priest in the parish for sixty miles while the pastor was away.  The experience was many things including a photographic feast.   

 

A parishioner took me out in his boat, basically a small motor boat.  This sailboat was moored not far from the church. 

The same boat at sunrise days later.  Amazing how light and angle of shot can change everything. 

A pavilion just down the street from the church, about a 1/3 mile walk.  

Port Lincoln is a fishing town.  Riding in a small motor boat among these behemoths helped me understand the meaning of insignificant.  

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD