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Dem bones, dem dry bones
Today’s first reading is from the Prophet Ezekiel chapter 37, the famous “dry bones vision.” Ezekiel has been the source of all the first readings for this week. It has been a week in which the Word of God came to the prophet and directed him to preach a word of destruction against Jerusalem, the kingdom of Tyre and the shepherds (kings) of Judah and Israel. Then the Word of God changes.
In Wednesday’s first reading, after condemning the shepherds (kings), we have the wonderful passage from Ezekiel 34:11 “For thus says the Lord GOD: I myself will look after and tend my sheep.” And indeed, God sent his only son to be the King of kings and the Good Shepherd.
Thursday, the Word got even better
“I will sprinkle clean water upon you to cleanse you from all your impurities, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. I will give you a new heart and place a new spirit within you, taking from your bodies your stony hearts and giving you natural hearts. I will put my spirit within you and make you live by my statutes, careful to observe my decrees…you shall be my people, and I will be your God.” (Ez 36:25-28)
That is what God plans to do and in today’s reading Ezekiel is given the vision of result of the promise
“Thus says the Lord GOD: From the four winds come, O spirit, and breathe into these slain that they may come to life. I prophesied as he told me, and the spirit came into them; they came alive and stood upright” (Ez 37:9-10)
It is always good to pay attention when God breathes into the world. The ruah (breath/spirit) hovered over the void of chaos at Creation and there was life. God sent the Good Shepherd at whose baptism the Holy Spirit hovered. The ruah of God hovered over the disciples at Pentecost and their was new life for the Church – all this just as God promised.
The ruah, breath, Spirit of God is present in the world, fulfilling the promises of the Covenant, fulfilled in Jesus Christ. “…you shall be my people, and I will be your God.” God is fulfilling the divine side of the deal. We are called to let the Spirit heal our dry bones and be the people of God in the world.
Figure out the part of your life, the hard part of your heart, or whatever burdens you. Ask the breath of God to instill new life in you.
Image credit: “Vision of Ezekiel” by Paul Falconer Poole, c.1875; Tate Museum Creative Commons CC-BY-NC-ND (3.0)
The developing Church
This coming Sunday is the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time. Jesus’ words, “upon this rock I will build my church” (v.18) has also contributed to exegetical controversy. Some scholars hold this passage is a later addition and is not authentic, but betrays a later ecclesiastical interest in interjecting that later period’s hierarchy and organization onto Jesus’ words.
This position is fading because of the realization that ekklesia (church) regularly translates the Hebrew qāhāl, one of the terms for the ‘congregation’ or ‘community’ of God’s people – a term completely appropriate to describe the emerging ‘Messianic community’ of the disciples of Jesus. How could there be a messiah without a messianic community?
The building metaphor is the natural one to use in connection with the name Petros, and does not demand the idea of a full-blown hierarchical structure – nor does it preclude its development. The new church/community of the repentant people of God was at the heart of John the Baptist’s mission, and was the necessary outcome of Jesus’ ministry, with its effect of dividing men according to their faith or unbelief. What is striking is not so much the idea of ‘building a community’, but the boldness of Jesus’ description of it as my church/community, rather than God’s.
The emerging church that lasts forever. Hades is the realm of the dead, not the place of punishment. The “gates of Hades” is a biblical expression (Isa 38:10) that can mean the same as the “gates of death” (Job 38:17; Pss 9:13; 107:18). In this case, the word translated “overcome” or “prevail” means “be stronger than,” and the meaning is that the realm of the dead, which no human being can conquer, is nevertheless not stronger than the church founded on the rock, and the church will always endure to the end of history, accompanied by its Lord (28:20). Thus this text declares minimally that the church will never die. But “gates of Hades” may also refer to the portals of the underworld from which the powers of Satan emerge to attack the church, especially in the eschatological times (cf. the eschatological testing of Matt 6:13 and 26:41 and the dramatic imagery of Rev 9:1-11). Then the meaning would be that the church is under attack by the powers of evil, but will never be vanquished, because it is founded on the rock. In neither case is the church pictured attacking Hades. Once again, the two kingdoms stand over against each other (see 12:22-37). The church does not escape from the power of Hades, but participates in the struggle between the two kingdoms with the sure promise that the opposing kingdom symbolized by the powers of death will never prevail.
Image Credit: Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (c 1481–1482). Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain
Not without skills
The first reading is from the Prophet Ezekiel from a larger section known as the “Oracles Against the Nations.” In our reading the charge leveled against the prince of Tyre is simple and direct: you have become arrogant, or as we read “haughty of heart”. The prophet outlines three dimensions of his hubris: the king claims to be divine, possessing divine authority and divine intelligence/wisdom. It is not hard to think about animating the prophet’s words with a strong measure of sarcasm.
The prophet seems to acknowledge that the prince of Tyre has some skills and savvy, but notes it is only for the accumulation of earthly riches and power – nothing that will last beyond the end. An end that is coming soon at the hand of “the most barbarous of nations. They shall draw their swords against your beauteous wisdom, they shall run them through your splendid apparel…Will you then say, “I am a god!” In the end it will all come to another bonfire of the vanities.
Apart from the novel by Tom Wolfe, “bonfire of the vanities” refers to the evangelical call of the Dominican Girolamo Savonarola who in 1497 called the city of Florence to burn any objects that might tempt one to sin, including vanity items such as mirrors, cosmetics, fine dresses, playing cards, and musical instruments. Savonarola campaigned against what he considered to be the artistic and social excesses of Renaissance Italy, preaching with great vigor against any luxury.
None of us would suffer the delusion of thinking ourselves to be divine as did the Prince of Tyre, but then again none of us would say we are without skills or savvy. The question then, in Florence, and now, is to what end do we direct those God-given skills? Do we seek security for our families? Maybe security and comfort? Perhaps security, comfort, and luxury? Or are we on the verge of becoming like the Tom Wolfe character Sherman McCoy, a successful NYC financial whiz, who has given himself the moniker, “Master of the Universe.” Somewhat like the Prince of Tyre, yes?
To the prince, Sherman McCoy and to us, the gospel simply says: “Amen, I say to you, it will be hard for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of heaven. Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God.“
It is not the wealth, the security, the comfort or the luxury – it is the lure of those things, the lure to sin against the most basic of commands: “what the LORD requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.”
From time to time, we all need to consider what parts of our life, our possessions, that are candidates for the bonfire of the vanities. Consider what weighs us down on our journey to the Kingdom of God.
A painting by an unknown Florentine master depicting the execution of Fra Girolamo Savonarola, on May 22 1498. Photo: Wikimedia commons.
An emerging church
This coming Sunday is the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time. The disciples as a group had already received a blessing: “But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear. Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it”(Mt 13:16-17). Here this blessing is for Peter alone, as the plural address of v.16 shifts to the singular of v.17: Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah – notably keeping the original given name.
But the problem is….
Peter. In the polemics of the Reformation two basic positions were staked out: (a) the reformed position that “upon this rock” refers to Peter’s confession and (b) the Catholic position that the expression refers to Peter and all his successors. Modern scholars, Catholic and reformed alike, take a middle position: the expression refers to Peter (leaving the succession question aside).
R.T. France [1985, 257] writes:
Peter has declared Jesus’ true significance; now Jesus in turn reveals where Peter stands in the working out of God’s purpose. And as Peter’s confession was encapsulated in a title, ‘Messiah’, so Jesus now sums up Peter’s significance in a name, Peter. It is not now given for the first time, for Matthew has used it throughout in preference to ‘Simon’ (which never occurs without ‘Peter’ until v. 17), and Mark 3:16 and John 1:42 indicate that it was given at an earlier stage. What Jesus here reveals is its significance. It was apparently an original choice by Jesus, for no other use of Petros (or the underlying Aramaic kêpā’, ‘Cephas’) as a personal name is known before this; now he reveals why he chose it. It describes not so much Peter’s character (he did not prove to be ‘rock-like’ in terms of stability or reliability), but his function, as the foundation-stone of Jesus’ church. The feminine word for rock, petra, is necessarily changed to the masculine petros (stone) to give a man’s name, but the word-play is unmistakable (and in Aramaic would be even more so, as the same form kêpā’ would occur in both places).
France continues [257-8]
The word-play, and the whole structure of the passage, demands that this verse is every bit as much Jesus’ declaration about Peter as v. 16 was Peter’s declaration about Jesus. Of course it is on the basis of Peter’s confession that Jesus declares his role as the church’s foundation, but it is to Peter, not to his confession, that the rock metaphor is applied. And it is, of course, a matter of historic fact that Peter was the acknowledged leader of the group of disciples, and of the developing church in its early years. The foundation-stone image is applied in the New Testament primarily to Christ himself (1 Cor. 3:10ff.; 1 Pet. 2:6–8; etc.), but cf. Ephesians 2:20; Revelation 21:14 for the apostles as foundation
Image Credit: Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (c 1481–1482). Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain
The Harder Deal?
How many times have you heard today’s Gospel of the landowner who went out to hire laborers for his vineyard? Most often we hear it as a contrast between God’s generosity and our sense of fairness. Sometimes it’s the ‘it’s never too late’ homily. Both are good ways into the parable. Then there is the “Five O’Clock Christian” homily with the message to the ones who have labored all day and are thinking, “After everything I’ve done all these years, these johnny-come-latelies get to scoot in at the last minute” The message to the “there from the beginning” folks is all those years of fidelity had meaning. It can be a warning you are turning faith into a scorecard or a timesheet for the accounting department.
Each of Jesus’ parables is meant to draw us into the scene, to associate with one of the characters. You’re here at daily Mass. You take your faith life seriously and have been for some time so I doubt you are “five o’clock” believers. Yet we are more prone to those passing whispers: I’ve been doing this all my life. I’ve sacrificed. I’ve followed the rules. I’ve served the parish. In those moments we are right there with St. Peter when he asked Jesus, “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?” (Mt 19:27) We are like the early workers who say they have borne “the day’s burden and the heat.”
But underneath their complaint is a question we rarely ask: was being in the vineyard all day really a disadvantage?” Do we believe that spending a lifetime knowing Christ, receiving the Eucharist, experiencing forgiveness, belonging to his people, and having the hope of eternal life was somehow the harder deal? That’s when we need to remind ourselves that it has all been a grace and a privilege to receive: unearned, undeserved, but freely given.
Maybe then we begin to understand what it means to work in the vineyard. The years we have spent following Christ were never wages we earned. They were themselves a gift. The Eucharists we have received, the sins forgiven, the prayers answered, and even the prayers we are still waiting to have answered, the people who have accompanied us in faith, the hope that has carried us through difficult days: all of that, that was the vineyard.
So when the five-o’clock worker finally arrives, perhaps our response should not be, “Why does he get what I get?” Perhaps it should be, “Thank God he finally made it into the vineyard. And thank God I have been here all along.”
And maybe then we will fully embrace an attitude of gratitude for the work and the destiny to which we have been called.
Image credit: Red Vineyards at Arles | Vincent Van Gogh, 1888 | PD from wikiart.org
Things were so much better
From St. Augustine’s Sermo Calillus-Saint Yves 2, he offers us some advice
And yet you hear people complaining about this present day and age because things were so much better in former time. I wonder what would happen if they could be taken back to the days of their ancestors – would we not still hear them complaining? You may think past ages were good, but it is only because you are not living in them.
Christology: Three Questions
This coming Sunday is the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time. The Gospel according to Matthew accepts and uses the main Christological titles found already in the Gospel according to Mark, including Christ/Messiah, Son of God, Son of Man, Rabbi, and Teacher. But in contrast to Mark, Matthew adds several new titles and emphasizes certain aspects of Jesus’ identity. Matthew’s Gospel begins by identifying Jesus as “the son of David, the son of Abraham” (1:1), showing Jesus’ Davidic/royal and Abrahamic/Jewish heritage, respectively. Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is presented as “the New Moses” for the people of Israel, and is given a variety of other titles, including Emmanuel, Savior, Prophet, and King of the Jews. It is in this light that our pericope asks its two questions.
The First Question: Who do people say that the Son of Man is?
Clearly the local “buzz” places Jesus among the greats of Jewish religious history. Not only are all prophets, but all are already dead and thought to be resurrected or alive in heaven. Elijah was whisked away to heaven in a fiery chariot, Herod thought John the Baptist was already raised from the dead, and there were non-biblical accounts of Jeremiah resurrected. In other words, they place him in the cadre of prophets raised from the dead. The first question, more literally phrased is “Who are the humans saying that the son of the human is?” The Greek anthropos (human being, person; mankind; man – EDNT 1:100) is used twice in the sentence. There is indeed high praise in the “buzz,” but there is not enough for their faith to crossover and grasp the real identity of Jesus of Nazareth.
The Second Question: But who do you say that I am?
The “you” in the second question is emphatic and plural. It was not a question addressed just to Peter, but to the whole community. As in the first question, the word “saying” is present tense = “continue to say” or “keep on saying.” It is not a one-time declaration, but a repeated confession. Peter answers the question addressed to the whole group. In Matthew’s narrative Peter sometimes represents the disciples, sometimes represents all believers, sometimes plays a unique role in founding the new community, and sometimes is just Simon/Peter. It is a valid question to ask which “Peter” is portrayed answering Jesus’ question? Given the context of the verses that follow, there is something happening that is more than a simple, impulsive response. In this scene Simon/Peter is answering for and on behalf of the new community emerging from discipleship to Jesus
The Response: You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God
Many have written about the lack of a consensus among 1st century Palestine about the meaning of “Messiah.” All that can be said with certainty, whether Messiah be king or pauper, “Messiah” was a word of hope connected to God’s divine providence. Just what shape that hope would take was not clear – even to Peter, the one who had confessed it. By vv.22-23 it is clear that Peter’s understanding does not encompass the idea of a Messiah who suffers and dies.
Up to v.16, the account closely parallels Mark 8:27–29. But in v.16 Matthew seems to add to Mark’s narrative when he includes a further specification of Jesus’ identity “the Son of the living God.” It is not clear whether that is a modifier to “Messiah” or a separate title. Most scholars hold that Matthew wants us to grasp that Peter’s confession, despite the potentially misleading nature of Messianic language and Peter’s own failure to grasp its practical implications, is telling us more. The addition goes beyond a merely nationalistic fervor to an awareness of Jesus’ special relationship with God. The adjective living (which has a good Old Testament pedigree) may perhaps have been included to contrast the one true God with the local deities.
Image Credit: Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (c 1481–1482). Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain
A metaphor, right?
In today’s gospel we have the famous expression: “Amen, I say to you, it will be hard for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of heaven. Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God” It is a continuation of the encounter with the rich young man of yesterday’s gospel. In other form, the expression also appears in the Jewish Talmud and in Qur’an 7:40: “Indeed, those who deny Our verses and are arrogant toward them – the gates of Heaven will not be opened for them, nor will they enter Paradise until a camel enters into the eye of a needle.”
In the Christian context it seems to bluntly say that it is flat-out impossible for rich people to enter the Kingdom of God. Lots of commentaries say that The “Eye of the Needle” was a gate in Jerusalem, which opened after the main gate was closed at night. It was intentionally narrow and low so that travelers could only enter one-by-one and any beast of burden (e.g. the camel) would have to be either lightly loaded or completely unloaded. Hence: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor.” So – there was a chance for rich people after all!
The interpretation has been put forth since at least the 15th century and possibly as far back as the 9th century. However, there is no archeological or historically reliable evidence for the existence of such a gate. One has to be suspect of the later rising of the explanation – somehow tamping down and tempering Jesus’ words.
Cyril of Alexandria claimed that “camel” is a Greek misspelling and that kamêlos (camel) was written in place of kamilos, meaning “rope” or “cable”. More recently, George Lamsa, in his 1933 translation of the Bible into English from the Syriac, claimed the same based on the Syriac.
Camel, rope, cable – still pretty impossible. But then it is a metaphor. Right? I would suggest we are right back to yesterday’s point: do you possess wisdom about riches and their place in your journey to God? Jesus identified for the rich young man the one possession he could not imagine himself without and he walked away sad. Not angry, not thinking Jesus was unreasonable. For perhaps the first time, the young man knows exactly what stands between him and the freedom he is seeking. And he discovers that, at least for now, he is unwilling to let it go. The young man knows God’s will for him. He just decides that the price is too high.
But no worries. It’s just a metaphor, right?
Image credit: iStock, std license.
Forming the Church
This coming Sunday is the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time. Our reading is located in a section of Matthean narrative that portrays the formation of the church (13:53-17:27) in the midst of the continuing conflict with all levels of Jewish society that is leaning towards a growing rejection of Jesus as Messiah. This story forms the hinge of the section because after this Jesus will heighten his attention to the preparation of the disciples for their mission as a community once Jesus has died and resurrected from the dead. It will be a community who perceives and professes his true identity.
Crossing Over: A new theme emerges – A theme that began with Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman (15:21-28) continues with the geographical setting of the story: the region of Caesarea Philippi. Early in its history this location had been the setting of Canaanite worship to Ba’al and later a Greek temple to the god Pan (hence the name Paneas). Eventually it simply became a center of secular power under the Roman regency of Herod the Great and his son Phillip who renamed it after Tiberius Caesar and himself: Caesarea Philippi. Is the mention of the location just a geographical touch of narrative – Luke, the “geographer” of the gospel writers, does not mention the name – so one wonders why Matthew includes it. It is not clear, but perhaps Matthew wanted to emphasize that this significant scene took place in a setting with significant religious and secular meanings and associations. By doing so, Matthew crosses over to confront the pantheon of gods and the power of Caesar, with the true King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
But at the same time, this scene does not really cross over into new “territory” as regards Jesus’ divine identity. While this parallel scene in Mark is the first time Jesus’ divine identity is proclaimed by others and worship (homage) takes place, that is not true in Matthew. Jesus’ true identity is not really new to the disciples who have heard Jesus refer to himself in christological terms, have understood it, and worshiped him as the Son of God (14:33). The breakthrough is not christological. Matthew is crossing over to begin to explicate the ecclesiological (“being church”) dimensions of the profession and worship. It is from here that there is a separation of the new community of believers in the Kingdom of Heaven from those who oppose and reject it.
Image Credit: Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (c 1481–1482). Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain
The grace of restlessness
A young man approached Jesus and said, “Teacher, what good must I do to gain eternal life?” (Mt 19:16) Jesus answered the young man. “When the young man heard [Jesus’] statement, he went away sad…” (v.22) In the online notes , the US Catholic Bishops note that Matthew is not proposing a two-tier Christianity, with ordinary Christians merely keeping the commandments and unusually holy Christians pursuing perfection. Matthew has already commanded all disciples to “be perfect” (5:48). There is a lot more to this gospel than “possessions can get in the way of following Jesus.”
After Jesus recounts the Commandments, after which: “The young man said to him, ‘All of these I have observed. What do I still lack?’” (v.20) That might be the most important sentence of the whole text: “What do I still lack?”
This isn’t the story of a sinner refusing conversion. It is the story of a religious, morally serious person who realizes that being good and being completely free for God are not necessarily the same thing. He senses that something is missing. There is an itch he can’t quite scratch. You’re here at daily Mass. I’d say that puts you in the category of a religious, morally serious person. But is there something nagging at the edge of your consciousness? Perhaps “what do I still lack” is a question for all of us.
Perhaps we are like the young man. We keep the commandments. We know that our spiritual life has not achieved “fullness.” There’s something more. Maybe like the young man we keep asking.
What I love about this gospel is that Jesus takes the young man’s restlessness seriously. The answer to that young man is to dispossess his material wealth. That’s the answer to him. That is what holds him back. But that might not be the source of your restlessness.
Instead, Christ might answer our restlessness differently. Need to surrender some resentment? Still looking for everyone’s approval and recognition? Need to be in control? Need to be more trusting with that part of your life you hold back?
Jesus identified for the rich young man the one possession he could not imagine himself without and he walked away sad. Not angry, not thinking Jesus was unreasonable. For perhaps the first time, the young man knows exactly what stands between him and the freedom he is seeking. And he discovers that, at least for now, he is unwilling to let it go. The young man knows God’s will for him. He just decides that the price is too high.
Sometimes sadness reveals where our deepest attachment lies.
The young man’s question was, “What do I still lack?” Today, I think my question would be: “Lord, what is this restlessness within me trying to tell me? What am I still afraid to place in your hands?”
Be attentive to the grace of restlessness in your life.
Image credit: Heinrich Hofmann | 1888 | Christ and the Rich Young Ruler | Brigham Young University Museum of Art | PD-US
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