2/25/13
Tomorrow’s (Tuesday, 2/26/13’s) Gospel reading comes from the 23rd chapter of Matthew, in which Jesus says to His disciples:
“The scribes and the Pharisees
have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.
Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,
but do not follow their example.
For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them.
All their works are performed to be seen.
They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels.”
Jesus goes on describing the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, but you get the idea from this portion of the reading.
This is one of the most troubling and demanding of the teachings of Jesus, or at least it is for me.
One can easily see Jesus speaking not only of the Pharisees of His age, but of hypocritical elements of the religious leadership of all ages. For us, of course, the most relevant application of this teaching is to the religious leadership of this, our, age. Though obviously amplified by the mere fact that we are living through it, the hypocrisy, the pride, the obtuseness, and the utter poltroonishness of our many of our religious leaders seems to match that of any age. Just read the papers, which, of course, our hypocritical and vainglorious religious leaders tell us not to read because they are on some kind of campaign to “get” the Church. I don’t doubt that many, or at least some, elements of the press are hostile to the Catholic Church, and some are antagonistic toward all churches. But if the Church’s tone deaf, generally out of touch, and full of itself leadership didn’t give its enemies so much ammunition, perhaps the Church wouldn’t be pounded as hard and as often as it is currently being pummeled, generally deservedly so. But I digress.
Why is this reading so troubling? Because Jesus tells us to “do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,” despite their hypocrisy, greed, pride, and general display of those attributes that will surely separate us from God. Therefore, if Jesus is talking to us through the ages, He is telling us to “do and observe all things whatsoever” (Matthew, 23, 3) the Church leadership tells us despite, in the eyes of many Catholics (and in the eyes of many Christians of their own church leadership), the many shortcomings of many in that leadership.
I, for one, do not want to “do and observe all things whatsoever” I am taught by elements of the Church’s (and other Christian denominations’) leadership who are silly, two-faced, out of touch, full of themselves, pompous, fatuous, mendacious, falsely pious, criminal…or worse. This is indeed one of those passages in which I hope that Jesus doesn’t mean what He appears to mean. Can you imagine the abuse to which these words can be put? Oh, wait…we’ve already seen the abuse to which such words can be put.
He can’t mean this; can He? Perhaps it is a question of who holds true teaching authority, the latter day equivalent of the “seat(s) on the chair of Moses.” Perhaps many who think they occupy such seats occupy them only in their own minds. Or at least I hope so.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
THANK YOU AND GOD BLESS YOU, POPE BENEDICT
2/12/13
Yesterday, the 266th Pope, Benedict XVI, became the first successor of St. Peter to resign since Pope Gregory XII stepped down as part of schism 598 years ago.
On hearing the news, yours truly’s first thought was that the 85 year old pontiff was resigning so he could still have some, perhaps extensive, control over the choice of his successor. Benedict may have wanted to insure that he was replaced by a conservative in his ideological mold, only younger and stronger so that the Church could accelerate to a sprint what seems to many of us to be the its current brisk jog back to pre-Vatican II days.
But about two minutes of reflection shot that theory down. After 27 years of Pope John Paul II and eight years of Benedict XVI, who differed in personality and temperament but not in their approach to the faith, the College of Cardinals is filled, nearly exclusively, with conservatives. Short of a miracle, there is little chance of anyone who thinks much differently from Benedict becoming his successor. The new pope, in all likelihood, will be a younger, more vigorous, perhaps more charismatic, and maybe even more conservative version of Benedict XVI. That would have been the case whether Benedict resigned or died while holding the Chair of St. Peter.
The Pope stepped down for the reason he said he stepped down: he was too tired and sick to continue serving his God and his people. There was no more to it than that.
As my regular readers know, I am no fan of Benedict XVI, primarily because of his tendency to “reinterpret” Vatican II to irrelevance or meaninglessness and his near obsession with Papal authority, the latter of which manifested itself most dyspeptically in the Vatican’s crackdown on large swaths of the American sisterhood for “radical feminist themes inconsistent with the Catholic faith.” The expensive designer shoes didn’t help, either. Regardless of what I or you think about him, though, the Pope’s resignation is perhaps his finest hour. The Pope is 85 years old and in poor health. He is, of course, concerned about his own health, as all of us are. However, he is more concerned with the health of the Church. Benedict realizes that he is no longer capable of providing the leadership that the Church needs at any time, and especially at this troubled juncture in its history. This decision was doubtless made after extensive prayer and meditation with the Boss...and it was a very good decision.
For the good of the Church, the Pope stepped down to hand the reins to a younger man. That in itself would be a gracious, magnanimous, faith filled gesture. But to the extent it sets a precedent, that it tells future pontiffs that it is okay to step down when they are no longer capable of leading the world’s 2.25 billion Catholics, it was an even greater, more enduring step that should serve the Church well for centuries.
Yesterday, the 266th Pope, Benedict XVI, became the first successor of St. Peter to resign since Pope Gregory XII stepped down as part of schism 598 years ago.
On hearing the news, yours truly’s first thought was that the 85 year old pontiff was resigning so he could still have some, perhaps extensive, control over the choice of his successor. Benedict may have wanted to insure that he was replaced by a conservative in his ideological mold, only younger and stronger so that the Church could accelerate to a sprint what seems to many of us to be the its current brisk jog back to pre-Vatican II days.
But about two minutes of reflection shot that theory down. After 27 years of Pope John Paul II and eight years of Benedict XVI, who differed in personality and temperament but not in their approach to the faith, the College of Cardinals is filled, nearly exclusively, with conservatives. Short of a miracle, there is little chance of anyone who thinks much differently from Benedict becoming his successor. The new pope, in all likelihood, will be a younger, more vigorous, perhaps more charismatic, and maybe even more conservative version of Benedict XVI. That would have been the case whether Benedict resigned or died while holding the Chair of St. Peter.
The Pope stepped down for the reason he said he stepped down: he was too tired and sick to continue serving his God and his people. There was no more to it than that.
As my regular readers know, I am no fan of Benedict XVI, primarily because of his tendency to “reinterpret” Vatican II to irrelevance or meaninglessness and his near obsession with Papal authority, the latter of which manifested itself most dyspeptically in the Vatican’s crackdown on large swaths of the American sisterhood for “radical feminist themes inconsistent with the Catholic faith.” The expensive designer shoes didn’t help, either. Regardless of what I or you think about him, though, the Pope’s resignation is perhaps his finest hour. The Pope is 85 years old and in poor health. He is, of course, concerned about his own health, as all of us are. However, he is more concerned with the health of the Church. Benedict realizes that he is no longer capable of providing the leadership that the Church needs at any time, and especially at this troubled juncture in its history. This decision was doubtless made after extensive prayer and meditation with the Boss...and it was a very good decision.
For the good of the Church, the Pope stepped down to hand the reins to a younger man. That in itself would be a gracious, magnanimous, faith filled gesture. But to the extent it sets a precedent, that it tells future pontiffs that it is okay to step down when they are no longer capable of leading the world’s 2.25 billion Catholics, it was an even greater, more enduring step that should serve the Church well for centuries.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
THE WOMAN WITH A HEMORRHAGE: WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T MAKE JESUS MAD! ?
2/5/13
Today’s Gospel reading is Mark’s account of the “two miracles,” the cure of the woman with a hemorrhage and the cure of the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue official. (Mark 5, 21-43)
Like most Gospel stories, even in Mark’s fast-paced, and short, narrative, this one is dense with meaning and lessons. Perhaps the most obvious is the power of Jesus to work miracles and the evidence such power provides that He is indeed, the Son of God. Just a bit deeper, and maybe more important, is the role of faith in the saving mission of Jesus Christ. While both the woman with a hemorrhage and Jairus, and certainly those who observed these miracles, may have thought that the miracles were effected by contact with, or the actions of, Jesus, it was the faith of recipients that resulted in the miracles. Both the woman and Jairus believed that Jesus could save them; they didn’t doubt and they didn’t hesitate. Neither thought “What the hell, nothing else has worked, so I’ll give this Jesus guy that everyone is talking about a whirl. What have I got to lose?” No. Each was convinced that Jesus could, respectively, cure the hemorrhage that had been afflicting the woman for twelve years and save Jairus’s daughter from what looked like certain death.
There is something else about the story that has long caught my attention. The first of the miracle stories recounts the woman’s touching the cloak of Jesus and being cured. Jesus “aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked ‘Who has touched my clothes?’” (Mark 5, 30) Note that the story does not indicate that Jesus was disturbed or angry; He simply asked who touched Him. But then the story goes on
“The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.” (Mark 5, 33)
This woman was conditioned, perhaps from the teachings of the Old Testament conveyed by the rigid, stern, rules-obsessed teachers of the day (the Pharisees, but does this sound at all familiar?), to believe that Jesus would be angry with her, perhaps for seeking His mercy without His explicit permission or the permission of the religious authorities or for the temerity she, a woman, displayed in touching a man, or even his clothes. But what does Jesus do?
“He said to her ‘Daughter, our faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.’” (Mark 5, 34)
He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t appalled that the woman had broken some kind of man made rule. He was delighted to have been able to cure her and was amazed, and marveled, at her faith.
That’s the way God is; He wants to help us and to cure us because He loves us. He doesn’t hand out favors and cures as rewards for slavishly following “the rules” somebody claims to have made in His name. We don’t have to beg God for His miracles; He wants to perform them for us. All He asks is faith and, in a sense, permission to do those things He does so well and so lovingly.
Today’s Gospel reading is Mark’s account of the “two miracles,” the cure of the woman with a hemorrhage and the cure of the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue official. (Mark 5, 21-43)
Like most Gospel stories, even in Mark’s fast-paced, and short, narrative, this one is dense with meaning and lessons. Perhaps the most obvious is the power of Jesus to work miracles and the evidence such power provides that He is indeed, the Son of God. Just a bit deeper, and maybe more important, is the role of faith in the saving mission of Jesus Christ. While both the woman with a hemorrhage and Jairus, and certainly those who observed these miracles, may have thought that the miracles were effected by contact with, or the actions of, Jesus, it was the faith of recipients that resulted in the miracles. Both the woman and Jairus believed that Jesus could save them; they didn’t doubt and they didn’t hesitate. Neither thought “What the hell, nothing else has worked, so I’ll give this Jesus guy that everyone is talking about a whirl. What have I got to lose?” No. Each was convinced that Jesus could, respectively, cure the hemorrhage that had been afflicting the woman for twelve years and save Jairus’s daughter from what looked like certain death.
There is something else about the story that has long caught my attention. The first of the miracle stories recounts the woman’s touching the cloak of Jesus and being cured. Jesus “aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked ‘Who has touched my clothes?’” (Mark 5, 30) Note that the story does not indicate that Jesus was disturbed or angry; He simply asked who touched Him. But then the story goes on
“The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.” (Mark 5, 33)
This woman was conditioned, perhaps from the teachings of the Old Testament conveyed by the rigid, stern, rules-obsessed teachers of the day (the Pharisees, but does this sound at all familiar?), to believe that Jesus would be angry with her, perhaps for seeking His mercy without His explicit permission or the permission of the religious authorities or for the temerity she, a woman, displayed in touching a man, or even his clothes. But what does Jesus do?
“He said to her ‘Daughter, our faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.’” (Mark 5, 34)
He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t appalled that the woman had broken some kind of man made rule. He was delighted to have been able to cure her and was amazed, and marveled, at her faith.
That’s the way God is; He wants to help us and to cure us because He loves us. He doesn’t hand out favors and cures as rewards for slavishly following “the rules” somebody claims to have made in His name. We don’t have to beg God for His miracles; He wants to perform them for us. All He asks is faith and, in a sense, permission to do those things He does so well and so lovingly.
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