“Andrew taking Simon to meet Jesus” by Mary Evans. Image may be subject to copyright.
Holiness and the life of grace are not stingy. Holiness gives and it welcomes. This is my personal learning from the Advent and Christmas seasons.
When I placed myself in prayer in the manger scene, Joseph and Mary did not just allow me to gaze upon the child, they welcomed me to hold the babe in my own arms. They did not hesitate in inviting me to hold the child. When I watched as Simeon and Anna rejoiced in encountering the newborn Messiah in the Temple, they both welcomed me into that joy and hope fulfilled. When I prayed over Matthew’s account of the three magi journeying to find the newborn king, I found myself eagerly welcomed by the three wise men to journey with them.
Holiness and the life of grace are not stingy. Holiness and the life of grace welcomes, invites and encourages. It does not seek to keep for itself. We find this is today’s gospel ((Jn. 1:35-42) also. John the Baptist, the one who was declared the greatest of those born of women by our Lord, eagerly points out Jesus as the Lamb of God to his own disciples, not a bit concerned if that means he and his own proclamation would be lessened. “Behold, the Lamb of God!” John’s two disciples begin to follow Jesus and John does not begrudge this.
The holiness of Jesus also gives and welcomes – and this is the deep truth of today’s gospel. Jesus asks John’s disciples, “What are you looking for?” “Rabbi,” they answer, “where are you staying?” Jesus says, “Come, and you will see.” We are told that they stay with him that day and then they too rush out to invite others. “We have found the Messiah!”
“Where are you staying?” “Come, and you will see.” It was more than an invitation to a specific physical place. Elsewhere in the gospel, Jesus says that the Son of Man has no place to lay his head. The invitation of “come and see” is an invitation by our Lord into that deepest place where he truly resides. It is an invitation into his very relationship with the Father. It is an invitation freely given and those two disciples, even in their imperfections and lack of understanding, are both freely welcomed. It is precisely this new experience of being welcomed into the Son’s relationship to the Father that impels those two disciples to then immediately go forth themselves and invite others to know what they have found.
Holiness is not stingy. Holiness does not begrudge. It does not try to keep all for itself. Today’s gospel invites us to that same honesty of heart that the two disciples of John had. “Rabbi, where are you staying?” Today’s gospel invites us to the same courage and faith that the two disciples had when Jesus responds, “Come, and you will see.” The gospel invites us to also go to that place where our Lord abides in his relationship with the Father and to know that we – even in our imperfections – are indeed welcome.
Andrew first went and found his brother Simon and brings him to where Jesus is staying. Jesus looks at him and says, “You are Simon the Son of John: you will be called Cephas (Peter)”,
Life changes when we go to where Jesus resides. Life changes when we come to know that we also are welcomed into the Son’s relationship with the Father.
Christ healing woman with a flow of blood. Catacombs of Marcellinus and Peter. Rome, 4th century. Image may be subject to copyright.
There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” (Mk. 5:25-34)
There has been a lot of talk about blessings in the Catholic Church these past few weeks since the issuance of Fiducia supplicans. The concern seems to center upon what is the nature of a blessing and is every blessing offered by a member of the clergy a tacit sign of approval of the supplicant’s state of life, in particular couples in irregular situations.
My reading of the document as well as the recent clarification issued is that no, every blessing offered is not a sign of approval and (this is what I find freeing about the declaration) it does not weigh upon the clergy to determine a person’s precise moral state when offering a “pastoral” blessing as opposed to a blessing given in a liturgical context.
When a couple comes forward to get married in the Catholic Church there is a process of determining the couples’ freedom to enter into marriage as well as their readiness and this is appropriate as that sacramental celebration is tied to our Church’s teaching about the nature of marriage. Liturgical blessings carry the weight of the Church’s teaching and are public in nature so, yes, it is on the church’s minister to ensure that blessings offered in a liturgical context are not in contradiction to the teaching of the Church.
But blessings offered in a liturgical context are not the only type of blessing. This is the key distinction offered by Fiducia supplicans. Pastoral blessings which, the declaration specifies, are more private in nature and occur in the moment, do not carry the same weight of responsibility upon the clergy. As I have read the declaration, the recent clarification and differing commentary I have been drawn to the gospel passage shared above. It was a very public moment – the crowd was pressing in upon Jesus. Our Lord knew nothing about the lady and her state in life. Her faith and trust merited the outpouring of blessing and healing and our Lord confirms this, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”
A couple of days before Fiducia supplicans was issued,I was in the neighborhood Lowe’s store in search of bird seed. At one point, gawking in front of the plethora of Christmas yard art decorations, I was approached by a woman with a small child. The woman, in broken English, asked for a blessing. I had never met this woman. I did not have to ask about her state in life. I did not have to ask about her marital status nor did I ask if she was in a state of grace. Standing in the aisle at Lowe’s, I responded to her request and I prayed a simple blessing. It was certainly a public space but also a very private moment – a simple blessing that I think went unnoticed by the other shoppers milling about.
The distinction in blessings made by Fiducia supplicans is valid and it is also freeing. It is not on the clergy, in that moment, to have to carry the weight of judge rather, it is enough to be a humble believer and shepherd. Might pastoral blessings and their true intent be misused? Possibly, but any misuse does not necessarily discredit the valid request and the valid giving of a pastoral blessing – a cry for God’s mercy.
I understand that these thoughts are written in the context of U.S. culture with the freedoms that we enjoy and value and that there are different contexts in different cultures that clergy need to honestly weigh out and consider. God’s blessings and guidance upon those shepherds as they strive to care for the flock entrusted to their care.
There are moments for the clergy to be judge, safeguarding what the Church treasures. Fiducia supplicans affirms this but the declaration also teaches that there are moments for the clergy to be fellow believers themselves who are also shepherds trusting in the abundant mercy of a God who works in ways we cannot even imagine.
In my office hangs a painting by the artist Janet McKenzie. The painting is entitled, “Mother and Child” but knowing the artist’s tradition of depicting the Holy Family via marginalized peoples and groups, I easily see within the painting a depiction of Mary and the young Jesus.
Here is what I see in the painting.
The young Jesus’ eyes are turned downward towards a flower he holds in his hands. He does not look forward. His time of mission has not yet arrived. He is now in the quiet time of growing and learning the hope and faith of the people of Israel and his mother and foster-father are the ones chosen to teach and guide him. His time of mission will come – as he contemplates the flower he holds – but for now he is in the care and love of his earthly parents.
He is partially wrapped in the cloak of his mother. There is a protective tenderness seen here. It is a worthy prayer to ask Mary to be always kept within the mantle of her protection. Mary is the new Eve who crushes the head of the serpent. In tender love she protects all those who turn to her.
In her eyes and straight posture is found strength, resolve and freedom. Mary is not bent in on herself in sin. She stands fully before God in her dignity and worth as the handmaid of the Lord. Her steady gaze invites the viewer into the same trust in God and freedom that she knows. True freedom is found and fulfilled in saying “yes” to the will of God.
I do not know the full intent of the artist in placing the young Jesus as she does before Mary but I see within the placement of the two a reflection of the strength of a mother bison protecting her calf. This is said to give full honor. The strength of the bison is a powerful and noble thing. Mary’s strength of love for her son is an unmovable and unstoppable force.
The white of her cloak echoes the stars in the cloak of our Lady of Guadalupe.
Behind the two figures are seen colors and animals important and sacred to the Native American peoples revealing that Mary is mother to all tribes and nations just as her son is Lord and Savior to all peoples.
I pray before this image. In it I find comfort and resolve and I hear the invitation to freedom found in saying “yes” to God’s will.
Once, when I was assigned in Chattanooga, I had the experience of driving by the regional airport just as Air Force One took off in flight. The president had been in the city promoting an industry and now he was leaving for his next destination. The sight of the plane filled my car window as it was directly in front of me and only a couple of hundred feet above me. Air Force One certainly grabs your attention and this is intentional. The plane is a visual statement about the power and the authority of the President of the United States.
This is what we expect from the ruling powers of our world, whether it be the office of a president, a king or queen, a royal family, a dictator or a tyrant. These authorities want us to look toward them and for the whole world to see in the trappings of their office – whether that be a plane, a crown, a missile launch – a statement of their power and authority. The ruling powers of the world want us to see them. They want our attention, and they want to be noticed.
Our faith and today’s gospel (Mt. 25:31-46) tell us that when Christ returns in glory all nations and peoples will be assembled before him but until that great and final day, our humble king wants us to turn our attention elsewhere. Our Lord wants us to look upon our brothers and sisters in need. Jesus wants us to see the least ones. Both those persons judged righteous and those persons judged unrighteous in today’s gospel ask the same question, “Lord, when did we see you…” Jesus’ answer is that when we allow ourselves to look upon the one who is hungry, thirsty, the stranger, naked, ill or in prison and then act in compassion we encounter him and we are judged righteous. When we do not allow ourselves to see, when we do not act in compassion then a harsh judgment follows.
It all starts with seeing and Jesus proclaims the importance of being willing to see the other, especially the least among us, throughout his ministry.
In the midst of the crowded Temple with people moving back and forth and all sorts of commotion, we are told that Jesus spotted the poor widow giving not from her surplus but from her poverty (Lk. 21:1-4). He saw her and he points her out to his disciples who were there present with him, and he points her out to us. Jesus saw her.
Jesus asks Simon the Pharisee (Lk. 7:36-50), “Do you see this woman?” referring to the woman who had come into the dinner party uninvited, a woman seeking mercy who was bathing the feet of Jesus with her tears. Simon did not “see” the woman because in his heart he had already judged her a sinner not worthy of his attention. Jesus forgives the woman her many sins and tells her to then, “go in peace” while it seems Simon and the other guests at table remain locked in their inability to see.
Jesus, in the parable of the rich man and the poor beggar Lazarus (Lk. 16:19-31), tells us that the rich man easily did not see the poor beggar lying at his doorstep and only after they both die does the rich man finally notice Lazarus, now at rest with Abraham, and then it is only to request that Lazarus be sent on an errand for him! The rich man, both in life and then in death, did not “see” Lazarus and this led to his ruin.
Our Lord, who will come again in glory and before whom all the nations will be gathered, is quite clear regarding our pilgrimage through this world and where we should direct our attention – the royal road for entrance into the fullness of the Kingdom of God is found in being willing to see the least among us and to then act in compassion.
This last week I bought a 1935 buffalo nickel for $3.00 in an antique store. The nickel has the image of an American Indian on one side and on the other side it has the image of a buffalo. I like the coin because it is a piece of American history and it is a reflection of our nation’s complicated story with both the indigenous peoples and the buffalo – a story that is far from over and continues.
(A funny story to share regarding a priest who has now gone home to God. This priest was known for being very, very frugal with money, so frugal in fact that people joked that if he ever had a buffalo nickel, he would squeeze it so tight that the Indian would end up riding the buffalo! But I digress.)
In answer to the Pharisee’s question about the lawfulness of paying the census tax to Caesar or not in today’s gospel (Mt. 22:15-21) our Lord asks to see a Roman coin. Remember that “census” is about citizenship and being a subject. Subjects pay tax to the authority that rules and governs, whether that be a government, a king or an empire. On the coin is an image of Caesar with his inscription. This is more than the image of George Washington on our dollar bill. Caesar was considered a god in the empire. In fact, the common greeting that subjects would give one another in the Roman Empire was, “Caesar is Lord!” When the first Christians began to greet one another with, “Christ is Lord!” they were doing something very intentional and even dangerous as the Roman authorities would regard such a greeting as an act of treason. The first Christians gave this greeting precisely because they had learned what our Lord was teaching in this gospel passage.
“Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar (let him and all the powers of the world have their piece of dead metal) and to God what belongs to God.” If the coin belongs to Caesar because it bears his image, then what belongs to God because it bears his image? Genesis 1:27 gives the answer, “God created man in his image, in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them.” We bear the image of God; we belong to God and while we walk this earth, yes, with earthly citizenship and responsibilities, we know that our true citizenship is in the Kingdom of God and we strive to live our lives by God’s truth. We must repay to God what belongs to God.
There is another truth to our Lord’s answer that we need to let sink into our hearts. God desires us, each one of us. God desires the unique image of himself that he has crafted within each one of us. God rejoices as we receive his love and as our own unique image of him begins to grow and shine! We are not meant to repay half-heartedly nor grudgingly the image that God has placed within each of us but rather repay it back in abundance and love. We do this by receiving God’s love and living in that love. We come from God, we are with God and we are in journey back to God!
Census is about citizenship; it is about being a subject of a kingdom. Our citizenship is in the Kingdom of God and even now, we strive to live by the light of God’s Kingdom. Repay to God what belongs to God.
“Peter walking on the Water” by Lester Yokum. Image may be subject to copyright.
My friends, there is a simple truth found in today’s gospel that is worthy of our reflection.
We are told that the disciples are in the boat in the middle of the night and are being tossed about by the waves of the sea. The disciples are caught in fear and dread. Our Lord comes towards them walking on the water. Jesus calls to them and tells them to not be afraid and in response Peter cries, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”
“Command me.”
Peter does not say, “Lord, calm the sea.”. Peter does not say, “Lord, take away this storm.” Nor does Peter remain in the little safety of the boat, waiting for the Lord to arrive. Peter says, “command me to come to you on the water.” Peter (in his cry to the Lord, in his prayer) is asking for the grace to look beyond the crashing waves, to move beyond the limits of his own fear and to have the faith to walk towards Jesus on the water.
This is the truth – there will be storms in life, there will be struggles and pain and doubt. We will know fear and uncertainty. The waves of life can be strong, high and crushing and it might even seem like everything is going to be lost. The temptation in such moments is to pray to God to take away the storm, to calm the waters and to right whatever is the wrong that we are facing. But is that the right prayer?
The prayer that Peter made was not to take away the storm but to have the faith to walk through the storm, the faith to keep his eyes on Jesus even in the midst of the storm. The gospel gives no indication that the sea calmed while Peter walked on the water. The waves still crashed but Peter did walk on the water and when his faith faltered, Jesus was there to lift him up and save him.
My friends, the right prayer may not always be “Lord, take this storm away. Take away this struggle. Take away my fear.” The right prayer may be, “Lord, give me the faith to walk through this storm trusting that you walk with me and that you are with me to protect me.”
“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”
I recently heard these words offered at a symposium on the priesthood and they ring true – not just in the life of the priest but in all of what it means to be Christian and to be Church.
If there is a “theme” in my own spiritual journey over the past few years it is that of a growing awareness of the Holy Spirit and relationship with the Holy Spirit – trust in the Spirit, awareness of the Spirit, crying out to the Holy Spirit, delight in the Holy Spirit, fear of wounding my relationship with the Holy Spirit, awe and wonder at the movement of the Holy Spirit, learning to rejoice in that which the Spirit rejoices in and allowing the Holy Spirit to lead me into truth.
I love the Holy Spirit.
The days between Ascension and Pentecost are a privileged time to receive the Holy Spirit as a welcome guest in our hearts. The words, “welcome guest,” are key here I believe. The Holy Spirit is not an automatic in the life of the Christian and should never be thought of in such a manner. Nor is the Spirit passive. The Holy Spirit chooses and is active. Although the Holy Spirit can and does work through very limited means (I use myself in my priesthood as an example here), the Spirit chooses how to move, where to move and where to abide and in what degree of fullness. The Holy Spirit will not abide in fullness with neither sin nor duplicity.
In grace we must always strive to make of our hearts a worthy place to receive this “welcome guest”. How so? Striving to keep our will and actions sincere, honest, pure and humble. Remaining focused on Christ as Lord and Savior and showing reverence to the image and likeness of God found in every person.
A sure way to experience the withdrawal of the Holy Spirit is to try to use another person in any way, shape or form. This was an abiding sin of the rich man in the parable that our Lord gave us of the rich man and the poor beggar Lazarus. Even in the torment of afterlife; the unnamed rich man, rather than rejoicing in seeing the poor beggar Lazarus resting now in the bosom of Abraham, wanted to use the very one whom he had ignored and stepped over during his life to be sent on an errand for him to warn his brothers. The rich man is denied. One wonders what would have happened if the rich man had rather said, “I rejoice in seeing Lazarus, whom I now recognize as a brother and who knew such pain in life, now resting in the peace of God’s love.” Some scholars suggest that the sin of Judas (who believed Jesus was the Messiah but who felt Jesus wasn’t acting swift or sure enough in his view) was to try to force the hand of Jesus to show his messiahship, in other words – use him, by handing him over to the authorities. In John’s account of the Last Supper, we are told that Satan enters into the heart of Judas and that he departs into the darkness of night. To use another while neither respecting nor reverencing the image of God in which that person is made is a sin that God will not abide.
In all things, we must continually strive, by avoiding that which grieves the Holy Spirit and doing that which pleases the Holy Spirit, to make of our hearts truly a place of welcome for this most honored of guests!
I want to end this post by sharing a reflection by Cardinal Cantalamessa given in his book, “The Holy Spirit in the Life of Jesus’. The quote is long but I share it because these words helped to enliven my heart to a deeper awareness of the Holy Spirit. Cardinal Cantalamessa writes,
But an unbidden question springs to mind: why the long interval between the moments when Jesus received his anointing in the Jordan and when, on the cross and at Pentecost, the outpouring of the Spirit occurred? And why does St. John the Evangelist say that the Holy Spirit could not be given while Jesus “had not yet been glorified”? St. Irenaeus gives the answer: the Holy Spirit had first to become accustomed to dwelling among human beings; he had, so to speak, to be humanized and historicized in Jesus, so as to be able, one day, to sanctify all human beings from within their human condition while respecting the times and modes of human behavior and suffering. “The Holy Spirit,” he writes, “descended upon the Son of God, made the Son of man, becoming accustomed (adsuescens) in him to dwell and rest among the human race, so as to be able to work the Father’s willin them and renew them from their old habitsinto the newness of Christ.” Through Jesus, the Spirit is able to make grace “take root” in human nature; in Jesus who has not sinned, the Spirit can “come down and remain” (John 1:33), and get used to staying among us, unlike in the Old Testament where his presence in the world was only occasional. In a sense, the Holy Spirit becomes incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth, even if in the case of “becomes incarnate” means something different, i.e., “comes to dwell in a physical body.” “Between us and the Spirit of God,” writes Cabasilas, “there was a double wall of separation: that of nature and that of the will corrupted by evil; the former was taken away by the Savior with his incarnation (and, we may add, with his anointing) and the latter with his crucifixion, since the cross destroyed sin. Both obstacles being removed, nothing further can now impede the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on all flesh.”
The same author explains how the wall of separation constituted by nature, that is, by the fact that God is “spirit” and we are “flesh,” came to be removed. The Savior’s human nature, he says, was like an alabaster vessel which in one way contained the fullness of the Spirit, but in another way prevented this perfume from spreading abroad. Only if, by some miracle, the alabaster vessel were itself transformed into perfume would the perfume inside no longer be separated from the outside air and no longer stay shut up in the only vessel to contain it. Now, this was exactly what took place during Jesus’ life on earth: the alabaster vessel, which was the pure human nature of the Savior, was itself changed into perfume; in other words, by virtue of his full and total assent to the Father’s will, the flesh of Christ gradually became spiritualized, until at the resurrection it became “a spiritual body” (1 Cor. 15:44), the “Christ according to the Spirit” (cf. Rom. 1:4). The cross was the moment when the last barrier fell; the alabaster vessel was then shattered, as at the anointing at Bethany, and the Spirit poured out, filling, “the whole house,” that is to say the entire Church, with perfume. The Holy Spirit is the trail of perfume Jesus left behind when he walked the earth! The martyr St. Ignatius of Antioch admirably combines the two moments we have been considering – that of the anointing and that of the outpouring of the Spirit – where he writes: “The Lord received a perfumed (myron) ointment on his head, so that he could breathe incorruptibility on the Church.”
After listing the genealogy of Jesus in the first chapter of his gospel, Matthew tells us how the birth of our Lord came about and how the humble carpenter Joseph plays a key role but not in any sort of way that he could ever have expected. After deciding to spare Mary shame and to divorce her quietly, Joseph is visited by an angel in his dream. The context of “within a dream” is important because by letting Joseph know that Mary is with child through the Holy Spirit, the angel is inviting Joseph to set aside his own dreams in favor of God’s dream.
Surely Joseph had dreams and plans regarding his marriage to Mary and what their life together would be like. Surely Joseph found great anticipation and joy in those dreams but then he was thrown the biggest curveball in all of human history – his betrothed was with child, the infant was the Word incarnate and now his dreams must give way to God’s dream.
Joseph is considered the patron saint of a happy death because tradition holds that when he died (sometime between the finding of the young Jesus in the Temple and before the beginning of our Lord’s public ministry) Joseph had at his bedside both our Lord and our Lady. St. Joseph is also considered the protector of the Universal Church as he took on the duty and responsibility of protecting the newborn Christ and his mother. There are many titles given to this amazing saint and each title offers a different glimpse of his sanctity. The first chapter of Matthew offers another title worthy of consideration I believe – St. Joseph, the patron saint of handling the curveballs of life!
Life throws curveballs and they come at us at unexpected times and in many varied ways – an illness in the family, the loss of a job, the need to move, interrupted plans and projects, an unexpected pregnancy, even a random encounter with a stranger can turn things upside down! These curveballs come in many shapes and sizes and they all demand that we set aside our dreams and plans in favor of the needs of the situation and the needs of another person(s).
It is good to have Joseph with us in these moments. He shows that these moments can be navigated through in faith and in hope.
Joseph offers three lessons for the curveball moments of life.
The first is not to react in frustration and agitation (a common and often kneejerk response in such moments) but rather to step back, take a deep breath and choose to act in care for all involved. Joseph did this. Before the angel even visited him in his dream to announce God’s plan, Joseph finds out that his betrothed is with child. Joseph must have experienced pain, shame and a sense of betrayal in this moment. Yet, he does not react out of all of that. Joseph falls back on his faith and his honest care for Mary and he chose to act out of that space. He decides not to expose her to shame. Even in his pain he acts in care for the very one who it seems (on the surface) betrayed him. Joseph teaches that when life throws a curveball don’t react – rather step back, take a deep breath and act in care.
The second lesson is to listen. God is present even in the curveballs of life. God has a word to share even in such moments. We are told that Joseph was a righteous man – a righteous person lives in relationship with God which means a person who has learned that God is present in all moments of life and who has learned to search for the voice of God in all situations. Joseph listened to the message of the angel in his dream and he accepted that message. Even in the curveballs that life throws at us, God is present. Joseph teaches us to listen for what God is saying even in such moments.
Thirdly, Joseph (after listening) acts in faith. Faith means to be willing to just take the next step. Faith does not mean we know exactly how things will work out. Faith means we take the next step precisely because we trust in God and His will for us. Joseph did this. Joseph did not know how it would all end. Joseph did not fully understand all that was going on and neither was he given the whole picture but he trusted and in that trust he decided to act in faith. Joseph received Mary into his home.
Three solid lessons for handling the curveballs that life can throw at us: don’t react but rather act in care, listen for the voice of God in the moment and then act in faith, take that next step.
St. Joseph, patron saint of handling the curveballs of life, pray for us!
The early Church wrestled with the Christological controversies like their lives depended on it. The truth is that our lives (and salvation) do. Unless Jesus is fully God, we are not saved. Unless Jesus is fully human, we are not saved. The chasm created by our turning away from God (because it is God we have turned from) is impossible for any creature (human or angelic) to bridge. Only God can heal that divide. Hence, the savior must be fully God. The original offense – the turning away – is on our part. We are the ones who turned our back on God. We must be the one who makes amends. Hence, the savior must be fully human. The savior must overcome our prideful disobedience by his humble obedience to the Father. Jesus – fully God and fully human – did this.
For centuries the Church (guided by the Holy Spirit) wrestled this out and from this effort and inspiration was born the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds – guardrails to keep us on the way of truth. But guardrails are not the road nor are they meant to be. Guardrails serve their purpose by keeping the traveler on the right path and protecting the traveler from the misfortunes and the dangers of going off course. This is their purpose and the creeds do this but they do not answer every single question nor are they meant to. There is still so much more to learn and to be brought to deeper understanding on.
Being fully God and fully human, how does the savior overcome our disobedience by his obedience? Both in the emptying of his divine sonship and in the humility of his humanity, I believe.
Here, the Christ Hymn of Philippians 2 (a hymn sung by the first generation of disciples) is of critical importance.
Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus,
Who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
something to be grasped.
Rather, he emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
coming in human likeness,
and found human in appearance,
he humbled himself,
becoming obedient to death,
even death on a cross.
Because of this, God greatly exalted him
and bestowed on him the name
that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
of those in heaven and on earth
and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. (Phil. 2:5-11, NAB)
The glory of the divine Sonship is present in Jesus but it is an emptying presence. It is freely let go of. This letting go allows Jesus, in the humility of his humanity, the “space” to fully exercise his will in obedient response to the prompting and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit – who is the love of the Father and the Son – fully indwells within Jesus who is without sin. And Jesus (without sin) in the humility of his humanity continually and fully makes the choice to respond to the prompting and guidance of the Holy Spirit.
In this the salvation won by Christ is an exercise of his divine Sonship in the sense of continually emptying himself of the glory of God in order that in the humility of his humanity Jesus might authentically exercise that human obedience in which we failed.
To be fully human means to grow in understanding and therefore not always fully know and comprehend, to authentically exercise trust and faith even in the darkest and most despairing moments, to be guided by the Holy Spirit through one’s own prayer, scripture, worship and the Spirit speaking through other persons and circumstances. Jesus did all of this even to death on a cross.
The miracles of Jesus (the signs) can be understood then not as the exercise of the power of his divine Sonship in the worldly sense of “will to power” but rather the exact opposite – an emptying of his equality with God in order that in the obedience of his sinless humanity the Holy Spirit might fully work through him and now, through Christ, even in others. In the Last Supper discourse, before the promise of the sending of the Holy Spirit, Jesus says, Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these because I am going to the Father. (Jn. 14:12)
It is only in Jesus’ ascending to the Father, that the Holy Spirit (who had been fully indwelling in the Son) can now be poured forth upon and begin to dwell within us who have been washed clean through the obedience of Christ. Now the Holy Spirit can begin to work through us if we take on the same attitude that was in Christ Jesus. If we learn (through grace) willed self-emptying, then the Holy Spirit can move through even the humility of our own humanity and we can learn to hear and be docile (obedient) to the promptings of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
In the self-emptying of his equality with God and in the humility of his humanity Jesus exercises the obedience that overcomes the effects of our original disobedience.
Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus.
Any interest in wolves will eventually lead a person to Yellowstone National Park and the work of reintroducing wolves into the ecosystem there. It is in this context, that one will hear the term, “trophic cascade”. The term is used to describe an “ecological phenomenon triggered by the addition or removal of top predators which then brings about changes in the relative populations of predator and prey in an area. A trophic cascade often results in dramatic changes in an ecosystem.” (Stephen Carpenter) In the case of Yellowstone, it was the healing of the ecosystem.
When wolves were extirpated from the park in 1926, their natural prey, the elk, increased to unmanageable numbers. There was overgrazing by the elk and the whole ecosystem suffered. Since being returned, the wolves have helped to reduce the number of elk to a number that the ecosystem can actually support. The wolves changed the grazing patterns of the elk so that valleys and riverbanks (where elk are more vulnerable) are no long overgrazed. The wolves have even strengthened the elk in that the wolves cull out the sick and weak elk, thus helping to reduce the risk of spread of disease in a herd. All of these factors have allowed areas that were overgrazed to rebound allowing plant life to again flourish naturally which, in turn, attracts more and varied fauna back into the ecosystem.
All of this cascade of effects from one change.
Here is the connection to the readings. James, in the excerpt from his letter that we just read (James 3:16-4:3), lays out the human condition under sin quite clearly. We are a mix of pride, jealousy, selfishness and envy. We are at war within ourselves and this violence seeps out in many ways. Yet, even in the midst of all of this, we yearn for that “wisdom from above” which is peaceable, pure, gentle, full of mercy and good works. We yearn for this because we know in our deepest core that we are meant for it. We are made and meant for that authenticity of self and life.
In the gospel (Mark 9:30-37) we see this played out in real time. The disciples are confused about what Jesus is telling them and they have fear within them about asking. When the group arrives at the house, we come to learn that they were arguing about who was the greatest disciple among them. The disciples themselves have been caught up in that whole mix of pride, jealousy, selfishness and envy that James laid out in his letter!
Jesus knows full well the human condition. He sees the sad circumstance of the mix of who we are under sin but he also knows the truth of who we are meant to be as children of God. What does he do in the face of all of this? He makes one change. He brings in a child and says, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.”
In this one act, Jesus shifts the attention of the disciples away from themselves and towards another. Now, instead of being caught up in the whole mix of pride, jealousy, selfishness and envy; focus is on the other and welcoming the other. Pride is forgotten, jealousy gives way, selfishness and envy are put aside. The shift in focus allows for a whole cascade of effects.
It can all be very daunting when we are honest and recognize the truth of the mix that we are – a good chunk of it which is not so great. Rather than demanding wholesale change which is beyond any of our abilities, the lesson given here by Jesus is to make one change. Do one thing in our lives for the Kingdom. Shift the focus. Welcome one person in the name of Christ. From the one change in our lives for the reign of God there will then come a cascade of effects.
Do one thing.
“…the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace.”
The Alternate Path 