Eyes Front

“Eyes front” was something heard quite often during my naval career. As a plebe at the US Naval Academy the expression was “keep your eyes in the boat” an expression that originates from traditional maritime and rowing culture, where a coxswain or crew leader would instruct rowers or whaler crews to focus on their own oarsmanship. It was a reminder that you are part of a team and have a specific role that requires your full attention and commitment. While serving in the nuclear control room of submarines, it was a simple admonishment for the control room operators to keep their eyes on their panel and indications. I am reminded of all that when I read the gospel verse, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Lk 9:62)

Perhaps to your ears Jesus’ words sound harsh. But imagine trying to plow a field while constantly turning around. With the light plows of the ancient world, the farmer needed considerable attention to keep the furrow straight. There was no GPS, no machinery holding the line. The plowman had to guide the animal, control the plow and keep his eyes directed toward where he was going. If he continually turned around, the furrow wandered. The work of the plowman was always in front of him. And maybe that is what Jesus is reminding us about.

All of us have something behind us. Things we wish we had done differently. People we miss. Hurts we haven’t completely forgotten. Opportunities we lost. Wonderful times we wish we could recover. Perhaps even versions of ourselves we wish we could become again. Jesus doesn’t tell us to pretend those things never happened. They are part of you and who you have become. We all have a past but the spiritual question is: “Is something in my past keeping me from seeing where Christ is leading me now?”

So often in the Sacrament of Confession people are burdened with regret. Sometimes we keep looking backward at a sin God has already forgiven, as though our failure gets the final word rather than God’s mercy. For others, resentment is the burden, allowing something someone did years ago to determine who they are today.

But it is not all a burden. It could even be nostalgia. Sometimes we become so attached to the way God worked in our lives yesterday that we fail to notice what God is doing today. Following Jesus doesn’t have a retirement age. We can easily think in terms of what has already been accomplished: I raised the family. I served the parish. I had my career. I did my part. All of that ground has been plowed.

Perhaps the furrow is shorter than it once was. Perhaps we cannot do what we once did. But there is still someone to love, to forgive, to encourage, to pray for and more. Some part of ourselves we still need to surrender to God.

Your past can be a source of wisdom, strength, and more, but your past cannot be where you are headed.

And so we put our hand to the plow and thank God for the ground already traveled. We learn from the crooked furrows and are grateful for the straight ones. But we keep our eyes on Christ. Whatever lies behind us is just that behind us. The Kingdom of God is always in front of us.

But if we’re still here, there is still some field in front of us. 


Image credit: WordPress AI generated using the text of the post.

The Feast of the Archangels

In yesterday’s post about the opening chapter of the Book of Job, we encountered an opening scene of the heavenly court of the Lord. Present were God, the son of God and the Satan.  As noted yesterday, in the Old Testament they are the servants and attendants of God. To imagine them as angels, in the sense of later Christian theology, is probably an anachronism for the divine author of Job. Today is different. Today we celebrate the Feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael.

The date of September 29 originally marked the dedication of the Church of St. Michael in Rome built by Emperor Constantine. By the middle ages the day, known as Michaelmas, became a major celebration and a holy day of obligation in medieval Europe. For centuries, September 29 remained solely dedicated to St. Michael. Meanwhile, in 1921 Pope Benedict XV added universal feast days for the other two archangels named in Scripture: St. Gabriel on March 24 (the day before the Annunciation) and St. Raphael on October 24. During the liturgical reforms following the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI combined the celebrations into our present celebration.

The Archangels

The Archangel Michael (who is like God) is biblically portrayed as a Protector and Warrior. In the Book of Daniel, Michael is described as “one of the chief princes” and the special protector of the people of Israel (Daniel 10:13, 12:1).  In the Letter of Jude he disputes with the devil over the body of Moses, declaring “May the Lord rebuke you!” (Jude 1:9).  Lastly, in the Book of Revelation, Michael leads the heavenly armies in a climactic battle to defeat Satan (the dragon) and cast him down to earth (Revelation 12:7-9).

The Archangel Gabriel (God is my strength) appears as the Messenger of God. In the Book of Daniel  Gabriel explains prophetic visions to Daniel, specifically interpreting the vision of the ram and the goat, and predicting the timeline of the Messiah (Daniel 8:16, 9:21). In the Gospel of Luke He announces the upcoming birth of John the Baptist to the priest Zechariah (Luke 1:11-20). And at the Annunciation,  Gabriel delivers the most famous message in human history to Mary, announcing that she will conceive and bear Jesus, the Son of God (Luke 1:26-38).

The Archangel Raphael (God heals) appears as Healer and Guide. In the Book of Tobit Raphael appears disguised as a human named Azarias to guide young Tobias on a dangerous journey. He protects Tobias and his new wife, Sarah, by driving away and binding the demon Asmodeus and he provides the instructions to cure Tobias’s father, Tobit, of his blindness using fish gall. He ultimately reveals his true nature by stating, “I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who stand and serve before the Glory of the Lord.” (Tobit 12:15).

Of course now we have to ask: who are the other four angels “who stand and serve before the Glory of the Lord”?

The Other Archangels

While the canonical Bible only names Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, ancient Jewish and early Christian traditions reference a council of seven archangels. The concept of seven chief angels is hinted at in Scripture such as the Tobit reference above but also when the Book of Revelation mentions the “seven spirits who are before his throne.“

The earliest and most influential list defining all seven archangels comes from the Book of Enoch (Chapter 20), an ancient Jewish text dating to the 3rd century BC. While non-canonical for most Western churches, it remains part of the official scriptural canon of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Enoch names the remaining four as:

Uriel (Oriel): His name means “God is my light.” In apocryphal texts like 2 Esdras, he serves as an angel of wisdom who instructs prophets and guards the gates of Eden with a fiery sword.

Raguel: His name means “Friend of God.” Enoch describes him as the angel who “takes vengeance on the world of the luminaries,” acting as a celestial coordinator who ensures that other angels and cosmic laws remain in harmony.

Saraqael (Sariel / Zerachiel): His name means “God’s command” or “God has helped.” He is tasked with overseeing the spirits of humans who fall into sin, guarding against spiritual corruption.

Remiel (Ramiel / Jerahmeel): His name means “Thunder of God” or “Mercy of God.” He is designated as the angel responsible for those who rise from the dead, serving as a guide for holy souls awaiting resurrection.

At a later date, drawing upon ancient liturgies and the 5th-century writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, the Eastern Orthodox Churches, offered these as the name of the seven archangels: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, 

  • Selaphiel (Sealtiel): “The Prayer of God,” depicted in icons with his hands crossed over his chest in a posture of deep, contemplative prayer
  • Jegudiel (Jhudiel): “The Praise of God,” seen as the defender of people working in positions of leadership or spiritual responsibility.
  • Barachiel: “The Blessing of God,” often depicted holding white roses or scattering flower petals, representing the distribution of divine blessings.

The Unnamed Archangels in Western Christianity

Both of these sources are “eastern” which raises the question of why the remaining four archangels remained “unnamed” in Western Christianity. In the early western Church, the popular naming of dozens of unbiblical angels led to a rise in folk magic, superstition, and unauthorized angelic worship. To curb this, Pope Saint Zachary enacted a decree at the Council of Rome in 745 AD. The Church officially banned the invocation of any angel names not explicitly recorded in the recognized books of Sacred Scripture. Consequently, the West restricted its official focus strictly to Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, leaving the other four hidden to history and folklore.

The reason for the ban was, in part, adherence to the canonicity of Sacred Scripture, an unhealthy aspect of angelology, but the “tipping point” leading to the ban was when St. Boniface reported to Rome the unauthorized preaching of Aldebert of Soisson, France. He claimed that the Archangel Raphael personally delivered a letter to him from Jesus authorizing his preaching, his evangelization (which amounted to a cult of personality) and a whole rash of actions. Adelbert’s most egregious act was his prayer: “I pray to you, angel Uriel, angel Raguel, angel Tubuel, angel Adinus, angel Tubuas, angel Sabaoc, angel Simiel…” When the Roman analyzed this list, the theologians recognized that apart from Uriel and Raguel several of the other names had distinct roots in Gnostic magic and occultism. The Church came to a chilling conclusion: Adalbert was not speaking to holy protectors; he was unknowingly (or knowingly) entering into pacts with demons. As a whole, his movement centered around a type of angelology that seemed to move certain angels into lateria worship, that due to God alone. While Boniface wanted him excommunicated, the local councils held him to be insane and removed him from public life.

Despite the Council of Rome’s 745 AD ban that removed him from official Catholic liturgy, Archangel Uriel maintained a vibrant presence in Western literature, art, and high culture. He did this by transitioning from a figure of strict religious dogma into a powerful symbol for humanists, poets, and Protestant traditions. During the Renaissance, European scholars became deeply fascinated by classical antiquity, Jewish mysticism (the Kabbalah), and early Christian texts. Because Uriel’s name translates to ‘God is my Light,” artists and humanists adopted him as the unofficial patron saint of the arts, sciences, and divine wisdom. In da Vinci’s masterpiece, Virgin of the Rocks, the angel guiding the infant John the Baptist alongside Mary is traditionally identified as Uriel, drawing from apocryphal legends.

When the Church of England broke away from Rome in the 16th century, it discarded many medieval Catholic decrees and recognized Uriel as the fourth Archangel, placing him right alongside Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. Across the UK and the United States, Episcopal and Anglican churches feature stained-glass windows of Uriel holding a solar orb or a scroll of wisdom. He is uniquely venerated within Anglicanism as the patron saint of the Sacrament of Confirmation, guiding the faithful into the light of spiritual maturity

In Paradise Lost, Milton, a Protestant, was completely unbothered by medieval Catholic bans. He cast Uriel as a major character, naming him the “Regent of the Sun” and the sharpest-sighted spirit in all of Heaven.

Probably more than you wanted to know, but interesting nonetheless!


Image credit: WordPress AI based on the text of the article

The Accuser

The first reading today is one that often generates lots of questions. Here is the first reading and I suspect you can easily guess the types of questions:

“One day, when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, Satan also came among them. And the LORD said to Satan, “Whence do you come?” Then Satan answered the LORD and said, “From roaming the earth and patrolling it.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you noticed my servant Job, and that there is no one on earth like him, blameless and upright, fearing God and avoiding evil?” But Satan answered the LORD and said, “Is it for nothing that Job is God-fearing? Have you not surrounded him and his family and all that he has with your protection? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his livestock are spread over the land. But now put forth your hand and touch anything that he has, and surely he will blaspheme you to your face.” And the LORD said to Satan, “Behold, all that he has is in your power; only do not lay a hand upon his person.” So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD.  (Job 1:6–12)

  • What is Satan doing in the heavenly court?
  • Why is God letting Satan “go to town” on Job?
  • Is this like a heavenly “bet” between God and Satan, almost akin to the gods of Olympus getting ready to torment some poor mortal?

As the first reading continues, we discover the way in which Job’s world is “coming apart at the seams.” But he never blasphemes the Lord. I always imagine it is with great resignation that Job simply says, “Naked I came forth from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I go back again. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD!” In all this Job did not sin, nor did he say anything disrespectful of God.” (Job 1:6–12)

The setting for the opening chapter is like an ancient monarch holding court. He is surrounded by the “sons of God.” In ancient mythology these were originally lesser divine beings, but in the Bible they are the servants and attendants of God. To imagine them as angels, in the sense of later Christian theology, is probably an anachronism for the divine author of Job. 

Among the “sons of God” is not “Satan” but “the Satan” (haśśāṭān) This is not a proper name, as in later Christian theology, but rather describes an office and a function: “the adversary.” It is a fair question to ask if the Satan is a member of the heavenly court, an intruder, or a member of the court who seems to have been God’s investigative agent checking up on things around the world – or perhaps the investigating attorney. What is clear is that across the breadth of the Old Testament the Satan is not associated with diabolos. The context of uses in other places suggest that the best understanding of the use in Job is as “the accuser.”  Then again, it is less clear who is being accused, Job or God.

As readers, we are aware of Job’s integrity; the text informs us that God is also aware of it, and in fact takes pride in Job (v. 8). The Satan is skeptical and, in front of the whole heavenly court, suggests that Job is virtuous simply because he gets something out of it. If Job were to lose all these blessings, what would he say then? He would flagrantly curse God. In the context of a shame culture, Yahweh’s honor is now involved and has a stake in the outcome. The Satan is allowed to put Job to the test, something he hastens to do.

What just happened? I’d suggest that the heavenly scene provides an open forum in which God permits the testing of Job. That is, the plan to test Job was not hatched in a secret meeting between God and the Satan. Rather it was decided openly before the heavenly assembly. In this setting Yahweh’s motivation, based on his complete confidence in Job, was fully known and thus it was above question. This is important, for the author has a doubly difficult task throughout his work: continually to characterize Job as innocent and not to characterize Yahweh as demonic or capricious.

Was this a wager? There are scholars who think so, but across Scripture, wagers tend to have a sum or prize to be handed over to the winner. The single issue at stake was the motivation for Job’s upright behavior and his fear of God. The Satan functions as God’s servant, solely an instrument in the testing and God is ultimately responsible for all that happens.

In the end, the Book of Job is a wonderful example of Wisdom Literature whose language and theme are common across the ancient Near East. It explores that enduring question and challenge of why bad things happen to good people. Take a moment to watch this video that offers several different insights about God’s response to Job.


Image credit: WordPress AI generated based on the text of the post

Conflict in Jerusalem

This coming Sunday is the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Lectionary Cycle A. Jesus has already entered Jerusalem (Matthew 21:1 ff) and been received by the people, proclaimed as Messiah, overturned the moneychanger’s tables (21:12-17), and had his authority questioned by the chief priests and elders. Jesus is performing signs and speaking in a way that the people are interpreting as Messianic – and there is a history there. Jesus is not the first messianic figure to come to Jerusalem and the chief priests and elders want to protect the people – although they have already concluded that Jesus is another false claimant. They have been amassing charges and accusations against Jesus and are simply waiting for the opportunity to bring him to trial and be done with him.

Unique to Matthew’s gospel, this short parable was, at its basic level of development, addressed to the chief priests and elders in defense of Jesus’ penchant for associating with sinners – those deemed unrighteous by the Jerusalem authorities. This is a dynamic that has been present in the gospel according to Matthew since the days on the banks of Jordan River when the same authorities came out to question John the Baptist.

That is perhaps why this round of the many encounters begins with reference to the Baptizer:

When he had come into the temple area, the chief priests and the elders of the people approached him as he was teaching and said, “By what authority are you doing these things? And who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them in reply, “I shall ask you one question, and if you answer it for me, then I shall tell you by what authority I do these things. Where was John’s baptism from? Was it of heavenly or human origin?” (21:23-25)

It is the Jerusalem authorities that are put on the spot. The leaders are standing (likely) in the midst of people who responded to John’s proclamation and the good news proclaimed in Jesus’ words and works. How will they respond to this challenge to “fish or cut bait?”  They are leaders of this ancient faith – how will they live out that faith? This is part and parcel of a theme popular in the Matthean gospel: faith that is spoken, but not lived, is empty. Calling out, “Lord, Lord”  is not sufficient; the will of the Father must also be accomplished (see Matthew 7:21-23; 12:50;23:3-4). Promises and profession must be matched by performance.


Image credit: Parable of the Two Sons, Andrei Monorov, 2012 | CC BY SA 4.0 |

All these years later

Everyone remembers 9/11 differently. 93% of Americans over the age of 30 remember where they were and what they were doing when they received the news. For Americans 25 and under, the number drops of 42%. For Americans 20 years and younger, they were not yet born or not old enough to have a memory. Nonetheless 9/11 affected the nation. Want to know more? Read the Pew Research Center’s Two Decades Later, the Enduring Legacy of 9/11. Here and at your parish may we all actively remember and pray with and for 9/11 family members, survivors, and rescue and recovery workers for their service and healing.

A Fallen Brother

We Franciscans especially remember and pray for Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M., a member of Holy Name Province who was registered as the first victim number of the 9/11 attacks. A long-time fire chaplain, Father Mychal was in the lobby of towers praying for the people in the towers, the fire crew, and emergency responders. He witnessed people jumping from the building – and prayed for them too. When the first tower collapsed, the force of the collapse enveloped him in its devastation. He died doing what he loved. The NY Post photo of him being carried from the rubble has become a haunting icon of that day.

Where were you…?

On the morning of 9-11 I was in Cochabamba, Bolivia in the first few days of an immersion Spanish language course. On that morning, the Guardian of the friary came to my room, clearly animated about something, speaking rapidly in Castilian Spanish, pulling me by the arm to a room where there was a television. On screen were the scenes of the morning. We were watching CNN Español. The Guardian spoke no English. I did not speak Spanish. All I could do was watch in horror, guess at the meaning, and wonder what was I seeing? Only much later in the day did a bilingual brother arrive who could fill in the missing pieces of my understanding.  Later that week, watching CNN Español, I realized they were live streaming a funeral. Slowly I realized it was from St. Francis of Assisi, 31st Street NYC, our provincial “mother church.” Even more slowly did I realize it was a funeral for one of my brother friars, Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M. Home seemed even farther away that day.

A Prayer

On the anniversary of September 11, 2001, we call on God’s spirit within us to help deepen our response to our commitment to non-violence. We are so aware of the fear and violence that continues to permeate our world since 9/11. As we pray in remembrance of that tragic day, help us also to be people of hope who embrace a belief that a new vision is possible.

God of the years, we call to you this day when the memories of 9/11 weigh so heavily upon our hearts. We recall with horror and renewed shock that day when airplanes flew into buildings and people perished. We remember our fear and anger, our confusion and sense of threat. We remember all that was lost to us that day: our sense of security, our peace, our innocence, our belief that we were safe beyond such random violence and death. Most of all we remember those who died in New York, Washington, DC, and Pennsylvania, their lives of promise extinguished in hatred.

God of all creation, you have taught us that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. We live by hope in the future you hold for us and for Earth. Grant us, we pray, hope for the future generations that they may never know or inflict the horror and terror we recall this day. Strengthen our hope when it falters and teach us to strive in all we do to realize the hope that is in your word and witness.

Eternal God, in you our hope is boundless. You renew hope in us through the promise of a future in which no one shall be afraid or lift up a sword against a neighbor. We pray in hope for the peace of the world among peoples and nations, religions and cultures, until we become a beloved community reconciled to one another under your sovereignty.

Loving God, you inspire us with love for all creation. Give us today the strength and courage to transform the compassion of our hearts into acts of peace, mercy and justice. Forgive us for the arrogance that leads to moral blindness, for desires for vengeance and retaliation and for willingness to sacrifice others for our own security.

Empower us to shape a world marked by ways of life that lead to justice and peace. Fashion in us a people who are more ready to grow in understanding than eager to judge those who are different from us. Form us, a people determined to heal wounds rather than inflict them. We ask all of this in the name of Jesus who came among us to show us the way.

Amen

The Life of Francis of Assisi

Every year – or so it seems – very good biographies of St. Francis of Assisi are published. The ones published in the last 10 years all share some great qualities: readable and increasingly historical – introducing the “real” St Francis of Assisi to the world. You might ask why I say the “real” St Francis?

Did you know that statues of St Francis are the second most popular lawn/garden ornament sold every year – right behind pink flamingos.  Rather like the popular icon shown above. That is an image many people have of St Francis, certainly one reinforced by Franco Zefferelli’s film Brother Sun, Sister Moon, another in a long line of romantic interpretations of the poor man from Assisi.  Especially in the 20th century, Francis was portrayed as “a free spirit, a wild religious genius, a kind of medieval hippie, misunderstood and then exploited by the ‘medieval Church.’ Or perhaps they know him as the man who spoke to animals, a nature mystic, an ecologist, a pacifist, a feminist, a ‘voice for our time.’  For others he is the little plaster man in the birdbath, the most charming and nonthreatening of Catholic saints…. almost everyone has his or her own Francis” (Francis of Assisi, Augustine Thompson OP).

Want to know about the “real’ St. Francis. Here are 32 posts about the life of St. Francis. Read one a day and that will take you right up to the Feast Day, October 4th. So, here they are.

Francis of Assisi – An Introduction

Francis of Assisi – The Young Man

Francis of Assisi – Military Adventures

Francis of Assisi – Period of Crisis: San Damiano

Francis of Assisi – Period of Crisis: Leaving the World

Francis of Assisi – Period of Crisis: Embracing the Leper

Francis of Assisi – “And the Lord gave me brothers…”

Francis of Assisi – The Fraternity Grows and Someone Has to Lead

Francis of Assisi – An Exhortation to the Brothers

Francis of Assisi – The Itinerant Life of the Brothers

Francis of Assisi – The Disposal of Worldly Goods

Francis of Assisi – The Conversion of Clare

Francis of Assisi – A Reputation for Holiness and Miracles

Francis of Assisi – The Problems of New Growth

Francis of Assisi – Francis and Nature: Part I

Francis of Assisi – Francis and Nature: Part II

Francis of Assisi – A Sacramental View of Nature

Francis of Assisi – Francis and The Eucharist

Francis of Assisi – Integrating Into the Church

Francis of Assisi – The Word of God

Francis of Assisi – The First Missions

Francis of Assisi – The Crusades (Part 1)

Francis of Assisi – The Crusades (Part 2)

Francis of Assisi – The Crusades (Part 3)

Francis of Assisi – While He Was Away

Francis of Assisi:  Charism of the Founder – Vocation of the Friars

Francis of Assisi: Hierarchy of Authority – Hierarchy of Example

Francis of Assisi: Franciscan Rules

Francis of Assisi: An Approved Rule of Franciscan Life

Francis of Assisi: Up to Now….

Francis of Assisi: A Time of Doubt

Francis of Assisi: The Stigmata

Instruction for the Community

This coming Sunday is the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. The previous two Sundays have focused on the gospel narrative that is set at the site of Peter’s great confession of faith: Caesarea Philippi.  This is also the place where Jesus’ first passion prediction occurs which leads to Peter’s exclamation: “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you” (16:22) – in effect denying the revealed nature and role of the messiah. Jesus corrects Peter in v.24: “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” Despite his confession of faith and the blessing in response to it, Peter initially rejects the possibility that Jesus’ messiahship could involve suffering.  This leads to Jesus’ instruction to the disciples about the true nature of the cross and the willingness to carry it in accordance with the will of God.

At this point in Matthew’s narrative the scene changes: “After six days Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them” (17:1-2).  But even after the revelation of the glory of God in the experience of the Transfiguration, the disciples are still plagued by their “little faith” and their inability to perform great signs and wonders (17:16, 19) – almost a counterpoint to the glory just witnessed.  Yet in using the symbol of a mustard seed, Jesus still witnesses that through faith, he is present to the disciples.

The relentless movement towards Jerusalem continues as the disciples gather in Galilee (17:22).  This is a community gathered from the “faithless and perverse generation” (v.17).  Jesus’ witness of the second passion prediction serves to announce the focal point and bases upon which this new community gathers.  Nonetheless the gathered disciples are sorrowful because they as yet do not understand.  The disciples have a way to go, but slowly they are becoming church.

This perhaps the subtle but often overlooked element of Matthew’s narrative. Throughout the arc of the storyline Jesus has been addressing the gathering community. “But who do you say that I am?” is addressed not the singular “you” of Simon Peter, but the plural “you” of all the disciples – Peter is simply the one who steps forward to give voice to the response of the community.

Chapter 18 is considered by most scholars as containing the 4th of the 5 discourses, often labeling this section as “Instructions to the Community.”  The fourth major collection of Jesus’ teaching is concerned with relationships among Jesus’ followers, who are clearly seen as a distinct community (as 16:18 has led us to expect). Within such a community there is opportunity both to harm and to care for others, and the health and effectiveness of the group will depend on the attitudes to one another which are fostered. Matthew has brought much of the stories together in this compact form with a view to the needs of the developing church. It is not so much a ‘Manual of Discipline,’ with regulations parallel to those of the so-named document from Qumran, rather it is a guide to relationships within the community. It is only in vv.15–17 that specific procedures are set out, and those are not so much ‘disciplinary’ as pastoral.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

A Question for a Lifetime

“Who do you say that I am?” It seems like one of those “fish-or-cut-bait” moments, doesn’t it? Peter and the disciples have been with Jesus for some time.  They have heard the sermons, listened to Jesus open up the deeper meaning of the Commandments, witnessed the miracles large and small, seen all the people healed, restored, and heard the amazing words of forgiveness and love. Wouldn’t it seem as though they have had enough time to know Jesus in a deep, intimate, and personal way?

“Who do you say that I am?”  I am not sure what the other disciples were thinking, pondering or what answer they were formulating, but Peter steps right up and responds: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Short, sweet, succinct and …. What more could one say? It is the perfect answer. It is the answer that even now we are tempted to use, falling back on religious language we have inherited, language we know so well, words we could recite in our sleep. And sometimes I wonder if we give enough thought and attention to the question and the answer. Maybe we are just so used to the answer, or maybe we are a little timid wondering if our own answer would hold water, pass muster, or be bodacious enough.

Yet today’s gospel raises the question for each of us to consider: “Who do you say that Jesus is?”   Don’t use Peter’s answer; take your time and consider your own response. Start forming our own response. I think “start” is the correct word to use. The German poet Rainer Maria Rilke noted that some questions are such that they have to be lived so that one day in the future, you might well live your way into the complete answer.  I don’t mean that Peter’s answer is somehow provisional or that we eventually discover some different answer. Peter has it right. But perhaps some answers are so large that knowing the words is only the beginning. We have to spend a lifetime discovering what those words mean.

Maybe some are wondering, “well…preacher that sounds kinda’ fuzzy.” Afterall, it is a straightforward question which has an approved, creedal answer. It is a “heart-of-our-faith” question, requiring absolute certainty and conviction.  Jesus is our Savior.  Our Lord.  Our Redeemer.  Our King.  There’s nothing ‘unsolved’ about Jesus; the Son of God isn’t a murder mystery.  He’s the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The mystery isn’t uncertainty about who Christ is. The mystery is the inexhaustible depth of what it means to know him, love him, and follow him. The answer doesn’t change. What changes is the depth with which we understand the answer.

But you know…we are not unfamiliar with straightforward questions which have an expected answer requiring absolute certainty and conviction. Think about it! You have spent several years with your significant other, opening up to them, revealing more and more of yourself even as they do the same for you. You have shared moments of love, tenderness, and forgiveness too! Then comes the straightforward question: “Will you marry me?”

Hopefully the answer is “yes,” and boom!… there is nothing else to know. The question and answer were both wrapped in absolute certainty and conviction that this was the love of a lifetime. “I love you with all my life. I would die for you….” Of course, this is the love language we have inherited… words we know so well we can say them on the spur of the moment. And that’s ok because at the moment of the proposal, isn’t all known, all revealed, all uncovered? … ahhhhh…, not really.

Couples that have been married for a while can tell you there is more to be revealed each and every day after the proposal…after the wedding … after the first child…. After everything… In listening to stories from couples of long marriages, the language is different from the language used by fiancés. A new vocabulary arises that does not simply speak of the promise of love. It speaks of the trust and the experience of love that “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor 13:7)

Who do you say that I am? “The Love of my life” – it has one meaning at the moment of the marriage proposal. It is a different meaning 25, 30, 40, 50 and even 5 years into a life together. Married folks have lived the question and grown more deeply into the answer. They know what those words mean in a way they simply could not have known on the day of the proposal.

St. Peter had the same experience. This week he provides the succinct perfect answer. Next Sunday he will be on the hot seat when he suggests diverting Jesus from his destiny in Jerusalem. Jesus “turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.’”  St. Peter falls in line and follows Jesus, defends Jesus, denies Jesus, is restored and forgiven. Peter spends the rest of his life living into the answer he gave at Caesarea Philippi. “I love you with all my life. I would die for you….” and St Peter does, dying a martyr’s death.

For now, feel free to use St. Peter’s answer. It’s a very good answer. It’s the right answer. But don’t stop with saying it. Begin living it. “Who do you say that I am.” Live it fully, deeply. Live it until it resonates within you, until you feel the love of Christ. Trust in that love, knowing that in its power you can bear all things believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things.

Who do you say that I am?  It is the question for a lifetime.

Amen.


Image Credit: Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (c 1481–1482). Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain

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

The Feast of St. Clare of Assisi

Peter said to Jesus, “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you that you who have followed me, in the new age, when the Son of Man is seated on his throne of glory, will yourselves sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life.”  (Mt 19:27-29)

Today across the Church universal and especially among the Franciscan communities, we celebrate the Feast of St. Clare of Assisi. It is a very appropriate gospel chosen for the feast day. In the gospel we hear: “Peter said to Jesus, ‘We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?’” It is a replay of the rich young man who comes to Jesus and asks what more must I do to inherit the Kingdom of God. Jesus tells him to sell everything he has and give it to the poor and then follow Jesus. At least the rich young man supplies the answer to what’s in it for him – even as he walks away sad.

Clare could rightly be called “a rich young woman.” She was born into one of the majores families of Assisi, the nobility with homes “up town”, wealth, land and privilege. She did not want… at least not in the traditional measure.

Continue reading →