The Ascension of the Lord
On Sunday, May 20, a vast majority of Christian Churches celebrated - three days late, no less - the ascension of Jesus into heaven. (And I'm well over a week late; I was reminded of it yesterday when I discovered that the Catholic diocese for the armed forces - yes, Virginia, it exists - celebrates its Memorial Mass the Sunday before Memorial Day Weekend; this year, that was the Sunday on which the Ascension was observed.)
There's a strange sense of confusion about Jesus' ascension to heaven that many theologians and preachers have gone to lengths to justify, but nonetheless remains. The eleven remaining apostles were certainly shocked and turned to panic again. They had not quite wrapped themselves around Jesus' resurrection from the dead, and now this?
It has been taught that Jesus had to leave this world after his resurrection in order that the Holy Spirit could come and generally make sense to the apostles all that concerned the life of Jesus, and of their own future as proponents of the Gospel. Since this still has the potential for open questions, to what can we turn that is closer to our own time that speaks in similar themes?
I may have found such an item.
The 1939 film version of Lyman Frank Baum's story The Wonderful Wizard of Oz contains several parallels, even if imperfect, that might provide food for thought. It might do nothing. Since it struck me enough to suggest I should blog about it, I'm taking a shot at it.
First, there's the very nature about how the 'wizard' gets to Oz in the first place. Our title character is working as a hot-air balloon pilot at a county fair in Kansas when one day, a sudden change in the weather took the pilot into the clouds and out of the people's sight. He lands near the fabled Emerald City, and because he has basically fallen from the sky - a feat only the four 'witches' can accomplish - he is named the Wizard of Oz. It's a bit different for Jesus - the Gospels of Matthew and Luke attempt to tell the story of his birth through genealogies and applied legends - yet, according to Mark and John, Jesus basically shows up as if he has descended from the heavens as an adult.
At the end of the film, the Wizard attempts to take Dorothy back to Kansas via the balloon that got him to Oz. However, Dorothy has to manage her dog Toto, which makes her just a tad too late. As the balloon drifts up and away from its moorings, Dorothy shouts, "Come back!!" But the Wizard replies, "I can't come back! I don't know how it works!" Jesus really can't come back, either. Even in his divinity he is subservient to his Father's will. Though Jesus knows how it works - he has promised his disciples that another Advocate would come and fill in the gaps - he must go in order that the Holy Spirit could come upon them with divine fire, zeal, and enlightenment that could then propel Peter and the others to overcome their fear and preach boldly about their beloved Lord, Master, Savior and Friend.
Finally, all the main characters are looking for something real that they felt missing. To the Scarecrow, it was Knowledge; the Tin Man, a Compassionate Heart; the Lion, Courage; and Dorothy, a sense of Community. These could only be found from within themselves; and all along they had the capabilities and capacity, even to the point of unwittingly tipping their hand to the watching audience. In reading the Gospel accounts, the Apostles and disciples were frequently given many clues (now obvious to us) of what lay ahead for them. Just as frequently they would witness an 'a-ha' moment and in the next be quite clueless as to what it meant. Only with the coming of the Holy Spirit did they realize that they indeed had the ability to do just as Jesus had commanded them.
I'm not about to attempt to rewrite the lyrics to "We're Off To See The Wizard" (it would probably contain more theological errors through metrical and lyrical liberty). Having said that, though, it's clear that if ever, O ever a wiz there was, Our Lord the Christ is the one because...because of the wonderful things he (still) does...through the legacy of the Gospels, the letters of the Apostles, and the inter-workings of the Holy Spirit, which continues in the Church and the world up to and including today, tomorrow, and as long as God wills watching this present creation.
He has given us the capacity, ability, and grace to fulfill the one great commandment: Love one another.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
After All These Years
If I stumble or ramble a bit with this entry, I hope the reader will forgive me. There is reason for it.
Eighteen years ago I embarked on a leg of my life's journey that has been and continues to be profound. I professed vows as a permanent deacon in the Catholic Church.
Like marriage, and the raising of children, this path - this road I now travel on - is one from which I cannot turn back, even if I desired it. The knowledge that this road only goes one way does not detract from my being a traveler on it, nor my desire to be there.
Despite the many mistakes and missteps I have made, I'm still standing. Some of these errors have been large and profound. One or two were even compounded by my efforts to try turning back, to start over. Innocent as I thought this might be, it became obvious that even this could not stop the divine momentum that was put in motion on that day, and the others like it: the day I married my dear wife, and the dates of birth of our children.
Three years ago, I entered among the posts of this blog that I had finally recognized that I was past the 'estranged' relationship I had with the Catholic Church as a result of the way I had chosen to do things. It is true that at in that moment I had reconciled myself to the past. Looking back, though, the goal to change my life may not quite have reached the expectations I had put behind those words. There is still some baggage to unload.
A year ago, I was challenged by the concept that I had 'fallen off my horse' making those errors, but the horse had found me and was attempting to get me back in his saddle, as only a faithful horse can do.
Today, the horse is still patiently waiting.
He waits because I still have much to understand at a deeper level. I have sensed that some truths I hold are not Universal Truths. I am at odds about the disconnect between Jesus' command to "love one another" and the debate over issues that never seem to go away: the role of women in the Church, the issues related to sexual orientation, and whether or not the US Health & Human Services' "mandate" really threatens First Amendment rights to freedom of religious practice and expression. He waits, ever so faithful and patient, because I have the garden of my family to tend. We're really starting to feel our age all of a sudden. He waits, like a dear friend, because while change has come slow and life keeps turning pages, I am moving forward and not backward. I have been reminded what is meant by the psalmist in Ps. 139, and was put so simply in Baltimore Catechism #1: God is everywhere.
That's right. There is no separation. You can't run away from your Creator. He knows you; he knows you better than you know yourself and he knows where you are. You may attempt to put up walls and barricades, but he will knock every one of them down. You may deny his existence, but he will put up reminders at every turn, and only in the last moment of this life would any denial stick.
You can think all you want that our great nation separates religion and faith from governance; but it can't. The people who elect our representatives in government do not en masse leave their faith at the door to the polling place. The best that can come of this is that we have the freedom to live our faith while accepting that we cannot force everyone else to believe and practice as we do, even if it seems that it is our mission is to convert others. (By the way, nowhere does the biblical mandate to evangelize say force it down people. That goes against several other practices.)
God is everywhere. This Truth is probably one of the hardest lessons I have had to remember as an adult. In adult life we tend to compartmentalize everything, including God's place in the world and in personal day-to-day living. But even in our periods of recreation (and maybe especially then), God is there. I am continually surprised in the ways God uses to remind me of his presence and his love. Had Paul of Tarsus added this to his list (In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor freeman, male or female; all are alive in him), it might have been easier to remember. But no sooner do I write this that I am prompted by memory of where he wrote, Who can separate us from the love of Christ?
I wrote as a status update to announce my anniversary that I continue to serve diaconal ministry in prayer. This I do. It, too, is not as simple as it sounds. Focus on prayer can often be elusive, its fervor muddied by multitasking in an effort to keep moving and get things done. Still, this is perhaps the most meaningful personal accomplishment of the last three years. I liken it to a toddler making his first unsupported steps to walk.
As long as I continue to show signs of progress, my faithful friend will continue to be patient and at my side, waiting for me to allow him to take me to places I would never otherwise see.
Eighteen years ago I embarked on a leg of my life's journey that has been and continues to be profound. I professed vows as a permanent deacon in the Catholic Church.
Like marriage, and the raising of children, this path - this road I now travel on - is one from which I cannot turn back, even if I desired it. The knowledge that this road only goes one way does not detract from my being a traveler on it, nor my desire to be there.
Despite the many mistakes and missteps I have made, I'm still standing. Some of these errors have been large and profound. One or two were even compounded by my efforts to try turning back, to start over. Innocent as I thought this might be, it became obvious that even this could not stop the divine momentum that was put in motion on that day, and the others like it: the day I married my dear wife, and the dates of birth of our children.
Three years ago, I entered among the posts of this blog that I had finally recognized that I was past the 'estranged' relationship I had with the Catholic Church as a result of the way I had chosen to do things. It is true that at in that moment I had reconciled myself to the past. Looking back, though, the goal to change my life may not quite have reached the expectations I had put behind those words. There is still some baggage to unload.
A year ago, I was challenged by the concept that I had 'fallen off my horse' making those errors, but the horse had found me and was attempting to get me back in his saddle, as only a faithful horse can do.
Today, the horse is still patiently waiting.
He waits because I still have much to understand at a deeper level. I have sensed that some truths I hold are not Universal Truths. I am at odds about the disconnect between Jesus' command to "love one another" and the debate over issues that never seem to go away: the role of women in the Church, the issues related to sexual orientation, and whether or not the US Health & Human Services' "mandate" really threatens First Amendment rights to freedom of religious practice and expression. He waits, ever so faithful and patient, because I have the garden of my family to tend. We're really starting to feel our age all of a sudden. He waits, like a dear friend, because while change has come slow and life keeps turning pages, I am moving forward and not backward. I have been reminded what is meant by the psalmist in Ps. 139, and was put so simply in Baltimore Catechism #1: God is everywhere.
That's right. There is no separation. You can't run away from your Creator. He knows you; he knows you better than you know yourself and he knows where you are. You may attempt to put up walls and barricades, but he will knock every one of them down. You may deny his existence, but he will put up reminders at every turn, and only in the last moment of this life would any denial stick.
You can think all you want that our great nation separates religion and faith from governance; but it can't. The people who elect our representatives in government do not en masse leave their faith at the door to the polling place. The best that can come of this is that we have the freedom to live our faith while accepting that we cannot force everyone else to believe and practice as we do, even if it seems that it is our mission is to convert others. (By the way, nowhere does the biblical mandate to evangelize say force it down people. That goes against several other practices.)
God is everywhere. This Truth is probably one of the hardest lessons I have had to remember as an adult. In adult life we tend to compartmentalize everything, including God's place in the world and in personal day-to-day living. But even in our periods of recreation (and maybe especially then), God is there. I am continually surprised in the ways God uses to remind me of his presence and his love. Had Paul of Tarsus added this to his list (In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor freeman, male or female; all are alive in him), it might have been easier to remember. But no sooner do I write this that I am prompted by memory of where he wrote, Who can separate us from the love of Christ?
I wrote as a status update to announce my anniversary that I continue to serve diaconal ministry in prayer. This I do. It, too, is not as simple as it sounds. Focus on prayer can often be elusive, its fervor muddied by multitasking in an effort to keep moving and get things done. Still, this is perhaps the most meaningful personal accomplishment of the last three years. I liken it to a toddler making his first unsupported steps to walk.
As long as I continue to show signs of progress, my faithful friend will continue to be patient and at my side, waiting for me to allow him to take me to places I would never otherwise see.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Great Expectations & Their Realities
Holy Saturday
I've been subdued by the attempt to solemnly, somberly, and soberly (try saying that quickly three times) on the Great Mystery that is the passion and death of Jesus Christ. Thank you, my Lord and God, for opening wide all that you are. What more can be said; what gift, what honor, what blessing could possibly be greater?Tonight I once again have the honor of proclaiming the great song of the Resurrection. It is something I do not take lightly and more than once I have nearly lost my composure in chanting God's praises. I have generally tried to keep a low profile during this day, in order to be best prepared for this roughly seven-minute tribute.
Having said this, I think I would have to cloister myself in order to be that ready. There's just too much quirkiness going on these last couple of days:
- Realizing that this great feast is imminent, my son decided to hijack the television set to watch the rites on EWTN (Eternal Word Television Network), one of a few Catholic broadcasters. Watching the liturgies themselves is one thing. The programming inbetween is something else again. Between EWTN and the Catholic Channel on radio, I got the full range of services and paraliturgical programs several times. I had the privilege of listening to meditations on Theodor DuBois' Seven Last Words of Christ, a three-hour program. But I heard it out of sequence: the ending movements first, the beginning movements in the middle, and the middle movements at the end. I also watched - twice - David Barry's dramatization, The Passion According to Radix (link to which I posted on my Facebook page; son watched and my wife was subjected to watching it a third time). It is a very intense program, standing in contrast to the children's programming. The latter is apparently the work of some folks who might aspire to work for the Children's Television Workshop; but will never get there with butchered song lyrics like: God is present in the Tuh-BERN-uh-cuhl (actual pronunciation is TAB-er-naah-cuhl; correct spelling, tabernacle). Singing this song three times in a thirty minute program drives home a lesson, although I'm not sure the correct lesson is being caught. But how can you say no to this, considering what else is on the tube?
- A friend of mine posted as his Facebook status this morning: "In case you were wondering, Jesus is still dead." This immediately brought to mind one of the very first "Weekend Update" sketches on Saturday Night Live. Now I'm pondering whether Chevy Chase's deadpan delivery or Garrett Morris' shouting it 'for the hearing impaired' is funnier.
- Another friend of mine texted to Facebook, lamenting that McDonald's was closed this morning. What? The fast food icon closed? On a Saturday, perhaps one of the busier ones of the year? Then a few quips from friends, like: Why are you looking for the fresh among the processed? (Something my dear wife could preach on!) And I realized that in my friend's community, the McDonald's franchises are owned by a Jewish family. Today's the first day of Passover, and it's a day of rest for them - that explains the unusual closing.
- Midday today is also traditionally a time when food that will be used in the preparation of Easter dinner is blessed. I am picturing ladies with baskets of bread, butter, and eggs (among other things) and children with modest baskets of candy showing up at church; while in the meantime, it is being decorated for all the festivity of the Great Sunday, the season of Easter that is about to begin.
- Preparation for Easter dinner is well underway here. It will be a great feast, the likes of which I have not experienced for a long time, if ever. For this year we are indulging, if you will, in some of the Sicilian ethnic delights associated with feasting on Easter.
Many Easter blessings o all who read this! May your joy be complete in the knowledge of the risen Christ!
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Do You Know What I Have Done For You?
Holy Thursday
The Word:"So when he had washed their feet
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again,
he said to them, 'Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me 'teacher' and 'master,' and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet,
you ought to wash one another's feet.
I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.'"
(John 13:12-15, NAB)
Another 'deviation', if you will, has taken place at the Passover Seder. Jesus washed the feet of the Apostles, an event found only in John's Gospel.
Theologians and scholars much more learned than I have indicated that this 'unplanned' ritual in the script of the Seder meal is a link to Baptism. It's not a great stretch since water is a key element and it's clearly used here. Once again, though, it would seem the participants are baffled by what is taking place. Peter (and I don't know why, but at the moment for some reason I want to call him "The Mouth That Roared") speaks for all of us when he declares (v.8), "You will never wash my feet!"
Unshod feet might possibly be the dirtiest appendages of the exterior human body. Even with footwear, the feet can endure problems with trapped fungi due to any number of things. So there's a natural reaction not to let anyone - not even a trained medical professional, nor God Himself - get even remotely close to our feet. Most of us would rather wear lace-less shoes than have to endure the embarrassment of having to ask someone else to tie them. I can't say this is worse than digging ditches or shoveling manure, but it sure seems to rank up there with those tasks.What's more, this directly invades that invisible shield we all seem to have; the instinctive mechanism to keep anything even slightly questionable no closer than arms' length.
To be sure, the record by John of this extra ritual act leaves the Apostles even more bewildered. Jesus' dialogue over the next four chapters of the Fourth Gospel might have left all of them as if they were deer staring at the headlights of an oncoming bus. To us, the action is multi-symbolic. It is a link to Baptism; a reminder that a leader must serve those s/he leads; and that, in order to grow spiritually and physically, we must lower our shields and step out of our personal comfort zones. Each change, even slight ones, bears with it the prospect of a mini-death. However, each change offers a great deal of possibility for the life that is to come.
I can't help but think that John's Gospel encourages us to detach ourselves from time and place for just a moment and see the travesty of how Jesus died amid the cacophony of the confused crowds - but also the glory of revelation of just who Jesus is. It's not something that is as easily caught while focused on our regimented lives.
Jesus, gentle and humble of heart, touch our hearts and make them like your own.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
'What you are going to do, do quickly'
Tuesday of Holy Week
The Word:Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified,
"Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me."
The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant.
One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved,
was reclining at Jesus' side.
So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant.
He leaned back against Jesus' chest and said to him,
"Master, who is it?"
Jesus answered,
"It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it."
So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas,
son of Simon the Iscariot.
After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him.
So Jesus said to him, "What you are going to do, do quickly."
Now none of those reclining at table realized why he said this to him.
Some thought that since Judas kept the money bag, Jesus had told him,
"Buy what we need for the feast,"
or to give something to the poor.
So Judas took the morsel and left at once. And it was night.
When he had left, Jesus said,
"Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him.
If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself,
and he will glorify him at once.
My children, I will be with you only a little while longer.
You will look for me, and as I told the Jews,
'Where I go you cannot come,' so now I say it to you."
Simon Peter said to him, "Master, where are you going?"
Jesus answered him,
"Where I am going, you cannot follow me now,
though you will follow later."
Peter said to him,
"Master, why can I not follow you now?
I will lay down my life for you."
Jesus answered, "Will you lay down your life for me?
Amen, amen, I say to you, the cock will not crow
before you deny me three times."
(John 13:21-33, 36-38 (NAB))
On the surface, this passage leaves the impression that its main statement is that Judas Iscariot had reached the last straw. For some time now Jesus' mission and ministry had him thinking: When does this turn into the coup against the occupying Romans? How do we get the support of the local regime? By now it's clear to Judas that Jesus doesn't 'get it', when in fact it's the other way around.
All of this is ambiguous to the other apostles. It's not without reason: Jesus has been dropping large hints that something will indeed happen while they're in Jerusalem for the Passover, something nobody understands.
Peter, as the heir apparent and the control-oriented person he is, wants to get to the bottom of this. He said before that it was not his intention to let anything of an ill nature befall Jesus, for which he was rebuked. Still, he knows there's a lot at stake here. Not willing to get in trouble for yet another poor choice of words, Peter motions John to ask the question. Who's the bad guy? Drama is building.
Before I continue I am reminded that, of the four canonical Gospels, John's is the last to be written, some 65 years after the events. With three already accepted accounts in hand, John is not writing with a strict focus on one community or group of potential converts. Historical accuracy is likewise not a top priority. Furthermore, as is evident when reading any of John's epistles or especially Revelation, the style is largely symbolic. John is putting a very unique perspective into what took place; a perspective that is inclusive of many symbolic acts, so many that one can get a bit lost for a time.
It is not enough, therefore, for Jesus to simply blurt out "Judas is the one." John places the reveal as part of the meal - the meal that will be remembered countless times as the Eucharist and the Mass. In vv.26-27, Judas accepts the morsel (possibly the bitter herbs dipped in salt water at the Passover Seder) - but at the same time, rejects the very Real Presence of Jesus before him. At that point, he succumbs to the temptation, and leaves in haste. It even appears that Jesus encourages the departure. What frame of mind is Jesus in? Nobody can really be sure. Even John's passing comment "and it was night" (v.30b) is symbolic. Not only was it in the evening hours, but the long 'dark night of the soul' had begun.
Peter, seeing though unclearly that something is still very much wrong, once again states his ideal intention that he will protect Jesus, wanting to follow him to wherever he is going. Jesus knows he is about to die, and the manner in which it plays out. Jesus tells Peter that he will follow (to his own death) at another time; but for now, he too is in the grasp of confusion, and that to save himself he will deny he knows his Master three times before the night passes.
Hail to you, our King, obedient to the Father; you were led to your crucifixion like a gentle lamb to the slaughter.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Which 'Son of the Father' Do I Release To You?
I first wrote this 'reflection', if you will, a little over four years ago. Literary wordplay, the license of the writer as s/he crafts the story to be told or the point to be made, is an interesting thing that all of us, professionally or not, deal with when we communicate our thoughts, ideas, and stories to others.
The Bible as we know it today is the work of God and hundreds, maybe thousands of collaborators - and while these may include those individuals who have books named for them, there are many more. Then there are the translators and copyists - the latter who worked countless hours in far from ideal conditions copying the text by hand, in the days before Johannes Gutenberg invented moveable type and made it possible for documents and books to be printed.
When reading, a mental picture is drawn to put the text into perspective. Sometimes it can take several readings of a particular text to get the panoramic view which catches more than first meet the eye.
Nobody else has quite caught the same picture I framed at the time, a year before I took an introspective view of things. I had a lot to learn then...I am still learning. Still, I wonder...
___________________________________________________________________________________
There has been speculation on the crucifixion of Jesus for about as many years as have passed since it took place. The further we are removed from it by time, the more we speculate on what really happened and how it could possibly have taken place.
The Gospels, being the only detailed written accounts to survive, were written anywhere from 30-60 years after the fact. There were no TV cameras, no instant information 'superhighway'. The real highways, built by the occupying Roman Empire, were only recently established.
Ministers, historians, other writers, and filmmakers have cast their own thoughts and expressions into this mix, in an all but vain attempt to solidify what the evangelists wrote, and to fill in a plethora of blanks that were left open, or questions left unanswered.
Catholicism teaches that Christ died for the sins of all humanity, so in fact it's as if we were really there at the time. The readings of the accounts of the Passion are the only time in formal Catholic ritual where the laity actively participate in the reading of the Gospel. Yeah, we're left with those wonderful lines that call for his extermination. But leaving the built-in guilt trip aside, there's a curiosity about the last days of Jesus' life that to me is insatiable. How did it really happen? How could someone come riding into town in glory, only to have everyone turn on him in a matter of days? Especially when you consider the lack of mass communication, let alone that Jesus never did any wrong?
Some have said it was Judas' lust for power, thinking that Jesus was a misguided figure that wasn't quite going in the expected direction politically. Others saw Jesus' challenges to the Pharisees, Saducees, and Jewish clergy as threats to a barely stable order. It was so precarious that the Roman governor Pilate tried vainly to wash his hands of the situation. Matthew's account mentions twice of the fear that rabid disciples might (and eventually did) steal the body of Jesus and proclaim that he was raised from the dead.
For the last few days, as this week approached, I was beginning to ponder this, as I have wont to do. But this year a new ponderance hit me, something I don't remember anyone ever dwelling upon. I can only think of one other strangely biblical paradox that has set the world as we know it on it's collective ear.
The first, which I stumbled over years ago and still discuss on occasion, have to do with how Judeo-Christianity and Islam both trace their roots back to Abraham, the first of the Old Testament patriarchs. God had promised to make great nations of both Ishmael, his son by the slave Hagar; and of Isaac, his son by his wife Sarah. Both factions fervently believe that they alone are God's "Chosen People" and lay claim to the covenant God made with Abraham, and to the "Promised Land." The territory in that part of the world has been fought over more than most other land on earth, and it seems to all trace back to this.
The latest quandary comes from reading the accounts of the Passion. At the occasion of the observance of the Jewish Passover, clemency was granted to one Jewish prisoner. When Jesus was arrested and brought before Pilate, a choice was put to the crowd. Should Jesus, a seemingly innocent man, be released - or an insurrectionist named Barabbas?
Don't see the connection yet? I didn't think so, it takes a little explaining.
I think you probably know that surnames (family names) are a more recent convention in the history of humanity; it didn't necessarily exist in the Middle East in biblical times. I arrive at that conclusion by reading the various genealogy lists in the Bible: C is the son of B, who is the son of A. But that's the English version; in Hebrew (or Aramaic, or possibly both) it's C-bar-B, and B-bar-A. So Jesus, by use of the terms and what we know of him, would be formally known as Yeshua Bar-jonah, (the son of Joseph) or something similar.
But Jesus didn't refer to himself in that way. In the Gospels we read him calling himself "Son of Man" or (particularly in John) "Son of the Father." In fact, in the English translation of the prayer "Gloria in excelsis Deo", used by most mainstream Christian churches, Jesus is referred to as "only Son of the Father." And when Jesus prays, he also uses the term "Abba" to refer to his heavenly father. I was taught this is a term of intimate endearment.
So when we take the Hebrew name "Barabbas" and break it down, we have in English "son of Father(s)".
That's where the conundrum starts. Were the crowds awaiting the outcome of Jesus' trial confused? Did they call for the release of the wrong "Son of the Father" errantly? Were their calls played upon by the Jewish priest-class who were translating to the Roman government? Could all of this have been stopped, and some other way found for Jesus to redeem humanity?
__________________________________________________________________________________
Indeed. The 'son of Abbas' or the 'Son of Abba'??? How many thought they were shouting for the release of Jesus, only to discover otherwise? How many times have we tripped over our well-intended choice of words? And when do we see that, in so many ways, that we are our own worse enemy?
God, forgive us...even after all this time and given all this enlightenment...we still don't understand that what we do - the attitudes we take, and the words we use to express them - are all among the things for which Jesus died.
The Bible as we know it today is the work of God and hundreds, maybe thousands of collaborators - and while these may include those individuals who have books named for them, there are many more. Then there are the translators and copyists - the latter who worked countless hours in far from ideal conditions copying the text by hand, in the days before Johannes Gutenberg invented moveable type and made it possible for documents and books to be printed.
When reading, a mental picture is drawn to put the text into perspective. Sometimes it can take several readings of a particular text to get the panoramic view which catches more than first meet the eye.
Nobody else has quite caught the same picture I framed at the time, a year before I took an introspective view of things. I had a lot to learn then...I am still learning. Still, I wonder...
___________________________________________________________________________________
There has been speculation on the crucifixion of Jesus for about as many years as have passed since it took place. The further we are removed from it by time, the more we speculate on what really happened and how it could possibly have taken place.
The Gospels, being the only detailed written accounts to survive, were written anywhere from 30-60 years after the fact. There were no TV cameras, no instant information 'superhighway'. The real highways, built by the occupying Roman Empire, were only recently established.
Ministers, historians, other writers, and filmmakers have cast their own thoughts and expressions into this mix, in an all but vain attempt to solidify what the evangelists wrote, and to fill in a plethora of blanks that were left open, or questions left unanswered.
Catholicism teaches that Christ died for the sins of all humanity, so in fact it's as if we were really there at the time. The readings of the accounts of the Passion are the only time in formal Catholic ritual where the laity actively participate in the reading of the Gospel. Yeah, we're left with those wonderful lines that call for his extermination. But leaving the built-in guilt trip aside, there's a curiosity about the last days of Jesus' life that to me is insatiable. How did it really happen? How could someone come riding into town in glory, only to have everyone turn on him in a matter of days? Especially when you consider the lack of mass communication, let alone that Jesus never did any wrong?
Some have said it was Judas' lust for power, thinking that Jesus was a misguided figure that wasn't quite going in the expected direction politically. Others saw Jesus' challenges to the Pharisees, Saducees, and Jewish clergy as threats to a barely stable order. It was so precarious that the Roman governor Pilate tried vainly to wash his hands of the situation. Matthew's account mentions twice of the fear that rabid disciples might (and eventually did) steal the body of Jesus and proclaim that he was raised from the dead.
For the last few days, as this week approached, I was beginning to ponder this, as I have wont to do. But this year a new ponderance hit me, something I don't remember anyone ever dwelling upon. I can only think of one other strangely biblical paradox that has set the world as we know it on it's collective ear.
The first, which I stumbled over years ago and still discuss on occasion, have to do with how Judeo-Christianity and Islam both trace their roots back to Abraham, the first of the Old Testament patriarchs. God had promised to make great nations of both Ishmael, his son by the slave Hagar; and of Isaac, his son by his wife Sarah. Both factions fervently believe that they alone are God's "Chosen People" and lay claim to the covenant God made with Abraham, and to the "Promised Land." The territory in that part of the world has been fought over more than most other land on earth, and it seems to all trace back to this.
The latest quandary comes from reading the accounts of the Passion. At the occasion of the observance of the Jewish Passover, clemency was granted to one Jewish prisoner. When Jesus was arrested and brought before Pilate, a choice was put to the crowd. Should Jesus, a seemingly innocent man, be released - or an insurrectionist named Barabbas?
Don't see the connection yet? I didn't think so, it takes a little explaining.
I think you probably know that surnames (family names) are a more recent convention in the history of humanity; it didn't necessarily exist in the Middle East in biblical times. I arrive at that conclusion by reading the various genealogy lists in the Bible: C is the son of B, who is the son of A. But that's the English version; in Hebrew (or Aramaic, or possibly both) it's C-bar-B, and B-bar-A. So Jesus, by use of the terms and what we know of him, would be formally known as Yeshua Bar-jonah, (the son of Joseph) or something similar.
But Jesus didn't refer to himself in that way. In the Gospels we read him calling himself "Son of Man" or (particularly in John) "Son of the Father." In fact, in the English translation of the prayer "Gloria in excelsis Deo", used by most mainstream Christian churches, Jesus is referred to as "only Son of the Father." And when Jesus prays, he also uses the term "Abba" to refer to his heavenly father. I was taught this is a term of intimate endearment.
So when we take the Hebrew name "Barabbas" and break it down, we have in English "son of Father(s)".
That's where the conundrum starts. Were the crowds awaiting the outcome of Jesus' trial confused? Did they call for the release of the wrong "Son of the Father" errantly? Were their calls played upon by the Jewish priest-class who were translating to the Roman government? Could all of this have been stopped, and some other way found for Jesus to redeem humanity?
__________________________________________________________________________________
Indeed. The 'son of Abbas' or the 'Son of Abba'??? How many thought they were shouting for the release of Jesus, only to discover otherwise? How many times have we tripped over our well-intended choice of words? And when do we see that, in so many ways, that we are our own worse enemy?
God, forgive us...even after all this time and given all this enlightenment...we still don't understand that what we do - the attitudes we take, and the words we use to express them - are all among the things for which Jesus died.
Monday, March 12, 2012
'Cleaning And Purging' Revisited
I've been re-reading the posts I put in this blog three years ago. Back then, I was chronicling my sense of life as a Lenten discipline. At the same time I was placing that alongside the biblical selections for each day. Some days were better than others. Reflecting on the posts, it's been invaluable to me. I humbly and honestly believe it's the best stuff I've ever written; quite possibly the best I may ever write.
For the 3rd Sunday in Lent, I wrote a reflection on John 2:13-25. This passage recalls Jesus' clearing the Temple of the vendors and moneychangers, and it's the only event in the Gospels where Jesus "loses 'his cool'." (To read the full reflection, go here.) That event was pivotal with respect to how the religious hierarchy saw Jesus. As I wrote, "from that time on it becomes easier for those plotting against Jesus to make false accusations against him, ones that stick."
That being said, the very last part of that passage is also of great importance:
"...many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing.
But Jesus would not trust himself to them because he knew them all,
and did not need anyone to testify about human nature.
He himself understood it well" (John 2:23b-25, New American Bible).
This was then, and is now, a cold slap on the face reminder that we are who we are. The constant sad stories of man's inhumanity to man speak clearly that we are in just as much need of God's merciful love now as compared to 1st Century Palestine. Knowing that it's there and has been there all along doesn't seem to change direction. In my own life this has at times thrown a wicked curve, causing me to question every single thing I do or to which I might aspire, and beat myself up mentally wondering what is motivating me.
There's the temptation here to "give up" - a term with which Lent is commonly associated. But this is not the emptying of the bucket or the cleansing of your temple, to be refilled with good things. No, this is surrendering to the wrong thing, leading to complacency, stagnation, and ultimately, death - death of the spirit, the worst thing a person can possibly endure in this life. No - as long as I can find yourself moving, my mind asking questions, my spirit longing in faith and in hope - life is still in me. I am alive because I am loved.
To further grow spiritually, I must find something about my human nature and work at improving it beyond the base line John describes in this passage.
For the 3rd Sunday in Lent, I wrote a reflection on John 2:13-25. This passage recalls Jesus' clearing the Temple of the vendors and moneychangers, and it's the only event in the Gospels where Jesus "loses 'his cool'." (To read the full reflection, go here.) That event was pivotal with respect to how the religious hierarchy saw Jesus. As I wrote, "from that time on it becomes easier for those plotting against Jesus to make false accusations against him, ones that stick."
That being said, the very last part of that passage is also of great importance:
"...many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing.
But Jesus would not trust himself to them because he knew them all,
and did not need anyone to testify about human nature.
He himself understood it well" (John 2:23b-25, New American Bible).
This was then, and is now, a cold slap on the face reminder that we are who we are. The constant sad stories of man's inhumanity to man speak clearly that we are in just as much need of God's merciful love now as compared to 1st Century Palestine. Knowing that it's there and has been there all along doesn't seem to change direction. In my own life this has at times thrown a wicked curve, causing me to question every single thing I do or to which I might aspire, and beat myself up mentally wondering what is motivating me.
There's the temptation here to "give up" - a term with which Lent is commonly associated. But this is not the emptying of the bucket or the cleansing of your temple, to be refilled with good things. No, this is surrendering to the wrong thing, leading to complacency, stagnation, and ultimately, death - death of the spirit, the worst thing a person can possibly endure in this life. No - as long as I can find yourself moving, my mind asking questions, my spirit longing in faith and in hope - life is still in me. I am alive because I am loved.
To further grow spiritually, I must find something about my human nature and work at improving it beyond the base line John describes in this passage.
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