Outside, there has been a winter storm raging in these parts. If I didn't know better, I might be tempted to think that we should be singing Carols instead of preparing for the beginning of Lent. Inside however, it's a different story. Rarely does the Church celebrate a ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time (the scheduling of our weeks is usually taken over by the Lenten period by now), but this is the latest that Easter can ever be scheduled, so we consequently start Lent very late too.
For the ninth Sunday of Ordinary Time, the Church proposes that we disciples of Jesus have our faith tested in a way, so here is my offering for this week, complete with the audio version as it was recorded live at the Saturday evening Mass:
Built on rocks that rumble
First impressions definitely do leave lasting memories. I remember the first time I ever lived in a mining town, this mining town to be exact. It was a new experience, and like all new experiences, there were a number of things that everyone else around me seemed to take for granted, but things that made me ponder. One of the first nights after arriving, I was sitting in the living room with the pastor of the parish to which I was assigned. Suddenly there was a rumble that seemed to shake the entire house. Was it an earthquake? The pastor must have seen the horrified look on my face, for he smiled and reassured me, 'It's the nightly blast. It happens every night. You'll get used to it.' Many years have now passed, and I must admit that sometimes I'm still not sure whether I'm used to hearing the blast, or feeling the rumble of the earth, but more often than not, I'm not even aware of it these days. Is that a good sign? or just proof that I must be well settled in.
Jesus urges his disciples in today's gospel to build their faith on rock, not on sand. When you live in a city that is built on rock, I suppose it's easy to catch the meaning of such advice, but a bit of time and a little closer look might still be worthwhile. Remember that Jesus was speaking to his disciples, who were all Jewish. They understood the prescripts of the Old Testament, and they were well acquainted with the practice of the Orthodox Jews, much more than many of us are today. Those who still uphold the prescripts of the Law as it is outlined in the Torah will still use a prayer shawl when they pray, and even strap small boxes called tephillim to their foreheads and to their left arms. Inside these boxes, there are small pieces of paper, traditionally parchment, on which are written some precious words, inspirational words taken from the books of Deuteronomy and Exodus. Words such as Listen O Israel, the Lord our God is the one God. You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your strength (Dt 6:4-5). Where did this custom of wearing words come from ... it came from Moses himself, who told his people to be keepers of the commandments. He told them that their whole lives would be based on the word of God. If they kept these commandments, God would assure blessing. If not, God would respond with a curse.
Jesus recognized the fact that Moses' message was solidly based on the promise of God, and any message so solidly assured was and is worth building on. Jesus told his disciples to be keepers of God's law, always seeking to do His will. He told them, and he tells us to base our lives entirely on the message he proclaims. Just as Moses told his disciples to expect blessings and curses, so Jesus continues the theme: if we keep God's will, we can look forward to the blessing that comes from keeping His word, or the curse that is self-inflicted when we choose to forgo his friendship.
What, you may ask, is this message that Jesus wants us to base our lives on? The answer has been given to us in bits and pieces in the gospel passages over the last couple of weeks. The kingdom of Heaven is close at hand, the values of this world are not the same as the values of the gospel, and in fact the gentle, the merciful and the poor in spirit are further on their way to finding happiness than we are if we insist on relating to our world only by the values dictated by society. In order to truly appreciate this message, each of us must strive to be forgiving in our ways, chaste in our relationships, faithful in our marriages. We must concentrate on showing love to our enemies, even praying for our persecutors instead of seeking retribution. We must guard against enslavement to materialism, put a liberating trust in God's providence, go easy in our judgments toward others, and persevere relentlessly in our prayer. We must be a dying breed, dying to ourselves that is, dying to selfishness and rising each day to generosity and new life. We must walk a thin line in our daring and adventurousness, and yet we must trust in Christ's assurances that we are walking on rock, not shaky rock that falls out once it's been blasted free, but solid rock that has stood the test of time.
The danger for all of us is that we might be tempted to keep God's word in our own little boxes. An even greater danger is that we might be tempted to make our boxes bigger, putting on a display of piety like the Pharisees did and keeping God's word more securely locked up. What protective creatures we can be at times: too much at home in our own surroundings, too comfortable to want to venture beyond our own comforts in order to be truly missionary in our approach to living the gospel, and yet this is exactly what we must do. Christ won't leave us hanging. When the rains come and the floods rise, and the storms of life begin to blow, he is always a rock of refuge for us. What more could we possibly ask for?
For the ninth Sunday of Ordinary Time, the Church proposes that we disciples of Jesus have our faith tested in a way, so here is my offering for this week, complete with the audio version as it was recorded live at the Saturday evening Mass:
Built on rocks that rumble
First impressions definitely do leave lasting memories. I remember the first time I ever lived in a mining town, this mining town to be exact. It was a new experience, and like all new experiences, there were a number of things that everyone else around me seemed to take for granted, but things that made me ponder. One of the first nights after arriving, I was sitting in the living room with the pastor of the parish to which I was assigned. Suddenly there was a rumble that seemed to shake the entire house. Was it an earthquake? The pastor must have seen the horrified look on my face, for he smiled and reassured me, 'It's the nightly blast. It happens every night. You'll get used to it.' Many years have now passed, and I must admit that sometimes I'm still not sure whether I'm used to hearing the blast, or feeling the rumble of the earth, but more often than not, I'm not even aware of it these days. Is that a good sign? or just proof that I must be well settled in.
Jesus urges his disciples in today's gospel to build their faith on rock, not on sand. When you live in a city that is built on rock, I suppose it's easy to catch the meaning of such advice, but a bit of time and a little closer look might still be worthwhile. Remember that Jesus was speaking to his disciples, who were all Jewish. They understood the prescripts of the Old Testament, and they were well acquainted with the practice of the Orthodox Jews, much more than many of us are today. Those who still uphold the prescripts of the Law as it is outlined in the Torah will still use a prayer shawl when they pray, and even strap small boxes called tephillim to their foreheads and to their left arms. Inside these boxes, there are small pieces of paper, traditionally parchment, on which are written some precious words, inspirational words taken from the books of Deuteronomy and Exodus. Words such as Listen O Israel, the Lord our God is the one God. You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your strength (Dt 6:4-5). Where did this custom of wearing words come from ... it came from Moses himself, who told his people to be keepers of the commandments. He told them that their whole lives would be based on the word of God. If they kept these commandments, God would assure blessing. If not, God would respond with a curse.
Jesus recognized the fact that Moses' message was solidly based on the promise of God, and any message so solidly assured was and is worth building on. Jesus told his disciples to be keepers of God's law, always seeking to do His will. He told them, and he tells us to base our lives entirely on the message he proclaims. Just as Moses told his disciples to expect blessings and curses, so Jesus continues the theme: if we keep God's will, we can look forward to the blessing that comes from keeping His word, or the curse that is self-inflicted when we choose to forgo his friendship.
What, you may ask, is this message that Jesus wants us to base our lives on? The answer has been given to us in bits and pieces in the gospel passages over the last couple of weeks. The kingdom of Heaven is close at hand, the values of this world are not the same as the values of the gospel, and in fact the gentle, the merciful and the poor in spirit are further on their way to finding happiness than we are if we insist on relating to our world only by the values dictated by society. In order to truly appreciate this message, each of us must strive to be forgiving in our ways, chaste in our relationships, faithful in our marriages. We must concentrate on showing love to our enemies, even praying for our persecutors instead of seeking retribution. We must guard against enslavement to materialism, put a liberating trust in God's providence, go easy in our judgments toward others, and persevere relentlessly in our prayer. We must be a dying breed, dying to ourselves that is, dying to selfishness and rising each day to generosity and new life. We must walk a thin line in our daring and adventurousness, and yet we must trust in Christ's assurances that we are walking on rock, not shaky rock that falls out once it's been blasted free, but solid rock that has stood the test of time.
The danger for all of us is that we might be tempted to keep God's word in our own little boxes. An even greater danger is that we might be tempted to make our boxes bigger, putting on a display of piety like the Pharisees did and keeping God's word more securely locked up. What protective creatures we can be at times: too much at home in our own surroundings, too comfortable to want to venture beyond our own comforts in order to be truly missionary in our approach to living the gospel, and yet this is exactly what we must do. Christ won't leave us hanging. When the rains come and the floods rise, and the storms of life begin to blow, he is always a rock of refuge for us. What more could we possibly ask for?
Thanks.
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