Hebrews 5:1-10, Psalm 110:1-4, Mark 2:18-22

 At first glance these two readings can appear to be pretty far removed from our experience. At least that’s what I thought when I first read them. The Hebrews reading is about Jesus as priest and few of us are priests. Second, Mark’s Gospel is talking about how Jesus’ life on earth creates a special situation. His disciples don’t fast because of it. Since we live 2,000 years after Jesus of Nazareth walked among us it would seem the situation is long past being useful to us.

However, closer examination reveals that the two readings are more about the kind of relationships Jesus had with God the Father and with those around him. Let me explain.

In Hebrews the relationship is identified as a priestly relationship. The reading says, priests were understood as the people’s “representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices to him.” It’s still that way today. We expect priests to be the people with a special relationship to God. Although Hebrews is about being chosen as a priest it reminds us that every priest is chosen from among the people and that Jesus too “learned” and only over time was he “made perfect.” In other words, the topic is priesthood but the subject is Jesus who came as one of us, a human being just like us. Sometimes we can be tempted to think of Jesus as God, kind of temporarily, acting as a person. But that isn’t what Catholic teaching says. It says Jesus was a human being, with two natures. Christmas wouldn’t mean what it does if God were only pretending to be a person. The wonder is that the second person of the blessed trinity became a human being, born just like the rest of us, subject to the same difficulties and in need of the same learning and discipline as the rest of us. If that is true, then Jesus can more easily be seen as a model or representative of us as Christians and the readings as examples of the kind of relationship we can have with God.

Mark’s Gospel tells of the time of Jesus’ own ministry and how it was unique. Jesus identifies himself as the bridegroom and he invites us all to this feast. He is being criticized because his life was an open invitation, like the meals he and his followers enjoyed. Like the meals, he told stories about the King who invites the ordinary people out in the streets to come to the wedding feast. By doing this, Jesus is changing the way people could expect to relate to God. Jesus, the ultimate priest, in Hebrews, is extending the invitation to all us to have that same priestly relationship with God. We are to be as it says in 1 Peter, “a kingdom of priests.” It is this extravagant welcoming behavior that raises the questions among those who follow John the Baptist and the Pharisees in the Gospel.

I think Mark is trying to remind us that Jesus came to bring Good News, which is what the word Gospel means. Jesus didn’t come to ask us to fast, suffer or feel guilty about our mistakes. Jesus came to invite us to a great feast that God offers. Using the marriage analogy opens to a great wealth of interpretation. It isn’t that being married is always easy but rather that the two people are happy together, share a life together and can say over time, we are good for each other and as a result we are better individuals because of it.

This world is not a perfect place, but unless we begin by acknowledging that we are blessed just to be here, that life is a gift that opens to wonderful possibilities we will have a hard time coming to the kind of close personal relationship that God wants to have with us. Together these readings suggest that the relationship with God can have the power and wonder we have thought of in terms of priesthood, but extended to be a banquet for all. This world, this life is God’s gift to us. The first thing we should do isn’t to give up something or restrict our behavior. The first thing we should do, is say thanks.

Hebrews 3:7-14, Psalm 95:6-11, Matthew 1:40-45

Today’s readings are stories of compassion. The story from the Old Testament is familiar. God has led the Israelites out of Egypt, freeing them from oppression. This is recounted ironically in the complaints voiced both in the Hebrews reading with a quote from Psalm 95 and then in today’s Psalm. Finally, the Gospel tells another story of how a person with leprosy asks for help and Jesus compassionately cures him. Both stories are examples of God taking care of God’s people in everyday life saving situations.

I think it is important to recognize the emotional component in Jesus’ actions. Mark says Jesus was “moved with pity.” Jesus operates out of a personal concern and care for people he meets. He is not a miracle making machine out to light up the country side. Hence, the admonition to just go see the priest and perform the rituals that the Law of Moses requires. He is doing this for this person but otherwise things are expected to stay the same. He’s not trying to break the mold, or issue some kind of challenge to the religious establishment. At least not in this action for this man. It’s a personal response. I think that is very important for us to recognize. Because it opens a better way of understanding God’s relationship with us at all times. I suspect that we can think of God’s saving history with humanity as, “what God does.” As in the first reading when God may be angry but God doesn’t abandon God’s newly freed people.

I certainly don’t want to shake the idea that God acts to give us better lives as part of who God is. But I think we need to nuance it somewhat. I think we need to see God’s action, as unbelievable at this may sound, as a personal, emotional response to the one being helped. This is not about building a highway so we can all get around better. It is laying one stone in the water so this person can cross.

God’s gifts are personal, individual to each of us, heart felt offers to make a life better. That is why the Psalmist calls out, “Oh, that today you would hear his voice.” We are asked to be in conversation with this God. God is saying, “Let’s be friends.” Too often we can’t believe or accept that such an offer is real. We do what the Psalmist deplores, we “harden our hearts” like the Israelites in the desert. Having been saved from their Egyptian oppressors they complained about conditions in the desert, they tested God.

The man with leprosy offers a better model. So giddy with being cured he goes off and tells everyone. The trick is to do what the author of Hebrews advises, “hold the beginning of the reality firm until the end.” If we are blessed enough to see and hear what God has given us then we must hold on to that reality in today’s world for each of today’s situations. Isn’t that was we do with a friend who cares for us?

It’s also why prayer is so important. Like a conversation with another person, prayer is specifically a time when we adopt a one-on-one stance towards God. By praying, we acknowledge the personal relationship just as the leper did by asking for help and, in fact, as the Israelites did by complaining to God about their situation. God already considers the relationship personal. The issue is, will we?

1 Samuel 8:4-7, 10-22a, Psalm 89:16-19, Mark 2:1-12

My first reaction to the story in 1 Samuel is that God gives us the freedom to choose. Which is what Israel is doing here. Israel wants to be like other nations. They want a King, a ruler someone can see. A King represents for these people a visible leader who will “fight our battles,” and keep them safe. I think it’s easier for people to put their faith in someone they can see than a God they can’t see. God sees it that way. In talking to Samuel God says, “They are rejecting me as their King.” My suspicion is the situation with Samuel’s age and his sons not filling his shoes is a case of “what have you done for me lately?”

We might think that the God who has done so much in Israel’s history that was able to be seen and recorded might do a little wonder working here to remind everyone who’s really in charge. But that is not happening. Rather God says to Samuel, “Grant the people’s every request.” Samuel goes on to warn the elders of all sorts of bad outcomes in having a King. They want the King anyway. I think it’s interesting how much these people are willing to give up for the sake of someone who will protect them. It raises the question of whether we act the same way to protect ourselves. How much do we give up in order to feel safe?

The picture Samuel paints is one of giving up sons and daughters, possessions and finding themselves as slaves to this King. That’s a picture of giving up our future, our hopes and our freedom so that “someone” will “fight our battles.” Is trying to fit in so strong that we give up our own sense of self. Is it possible we put on a face that everyone can see in order to hide and safe guard what is unseen but more revealing of who we are? The story suggests it’s our choice to make. God doesn’t come to the rescue when our freedom to choose is involved.

We have to want to connect. The story is the Gospel is a case in point. Jesus is preaching to a packed house, literally. Nobody else can get close. So four pretty assertive guys take their paralyzed friend up on the roof and lower him on his stretcher into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus. That’s serious effort to accomplish a connection. The part of this story that always gets me is what Jesus does next. He doesn’t heal the man’s paralysis instead he comments about the faith of the guys who brought their friend and then forgives the sins of the paralytic. What? My guess is these guys weren’t looking for spiritual benefits. They wanted their friend healed physically. So that incongruity says to me that Mark is definitely trying to make a point. I think it says that there’s no healing one part without the other. The spiritual healing and the physical healing are tied together. Jesus says it to the scribes this way, “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, pick up your mat and walk’?” Jesus does something they can see so that they might believe something they can’t see.

Some days I just don’t feel good, a down day, not a lot of personal energy. Some people have more of that than others. However, I’ve found that if I just get up, get out and do something physical I feel better. My inner spiritual life gets dragging into a better day because I got on the treadmill, went to the grocery store, cleaned the gutters, or mowed the lawn. It’s evidence our spiritual and physical selves aren’t separate. So when we operate in ways that fit what others expect instead of the values or feelings that make up who we are we create a separation, a break that hurts us. I don’t think we can create a convenient persona that will successfully “fight our battles” for us. Rather I believe knowing we are each unique individuals loved by God will help us “keep it together” in the first place and know where to go for help when we don’t.

1 Samuel 3:1-10, 19-20, Psalm 40:2, 5, 7-10, Mark 1:29-39

Today’s first reading is the namesake for this blog. It begins by saying it was a time when revelations and visions were infrequent. A description that if it doesn’t fit our world reflects what many people believe, i.e. God doesn’t operate in our world the way God did in Biblical times. If God exists then God is distant and only watches us. A popular song a few years ago expressed this exact sentiment.

What happens next in Samuel is what I have taken to be instructive. God calls out to young Samuel in his sleep and Samuel simply goes to Eli to answer the call. Eli however, isn’t calling Samuel. This happens three times before Eli realizes that it’s God who is calling Samuel. He says, “if you are called, reply, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” Samuel is called and replies as instructed and from then on is a prophet of the Lord. I believe God is calling to us, all of us, all the time. However, we often don’t realize who is doing the calling. Too often there is no one who can tell us who is doing the calling. We can go along for a long time trying to answer the wrong call.

Importantly I am not taking this act of being called literally. I think it’s a way to talking about knowing who we are and what we are about. The general answers to those questions are: that we are loved by God, meaning worthwhile valued human beings, who are here to love and care for one another as participants in God’s gift of God’s self to the world. How each of us works this out should be the joy of being who we are. I’m convinced God is trying to engage us in our own personal adventures, if you will. That’s how God is calling us. The question is, are we listening? Do we pay attention to the people and events in our lives that say something about what is good for us? Are taking the time away from all the rush of living to see what’s actually going on?

Today’s Gospel can be seen as a sample of what real listening to God can accomplish. Are we going to invite Jesus into our home like Simon and Andrew did? The results can be quite dramatic. Simon’s mother-in-law was restored to health. Not only were town’s people cured of illness but Jesus drove out many demons. Isn’t that exactly what we want, to rid ourselves of the demons that plague our lives?

We have to do what Samuel did and what is wonderfully expressed in our Psalm response. We have to respond, “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.” We have to say, “Here I am Lord; I come to do your will.” If we can sort out what is good and worthwhile. If we can be honest about who we are and follow our deepest desires then the words of the Psalm will truly ring home.

I have waited, waited for the LORD, and he stooped toward me and heard my cry.
Blessed the man who makes the LORD his trust;
who turns not to idolatry or to those who stray after falsehood.

Which is followed by:

To do your will, O my God, is my delight,
and your law is within my heart!”

To be happy, find satisfaction, in pursuing our deepest desires. Isn’t that Good News?

1 Samuel 1:9-20, 1 Samuel 2:1, 4-8, Mark 1:21-28

What I noticed in today’s readings was the comment about Hannah after her visit to the temple, she “no longer appeared downcast.” That seems pretty straight forward. In her own words to Eli she describes herself as in “deep sorrow and misery.” So she had come to the Temple and “in her bitterness she prayed to the LORD, weeping copiously.” This was a heart-felt appeal. I think it’s exactly the place where we can feel God’s support.

Catholic’s have a wonderful and useful tradition of published prayers. Everything from the Eucharistic liturgy to the rosary and before and after meal prayers. Catholic schools and parish religious education programs work very hard to pass on these forms of prayer to each new generation. However, that tradition can have the tendency to steer an individual toward more formal and impersonal forms of praying. At minimum the words of prayer are not ours. Worse, we may not be connecting the act of prayer with what is happening for us at a personal level.

We can learn from Hannah. This woman is being totally honest with God and herself. That starts with coming to prayer, “in her bitterness.” Plus she blatantly wants to make a deal with God. This is not, however, a calculated action. What I see here is utter desperation. She is laying herself out there by not holding anything back. If we’re going to talk to God, I think that’s exactly what prayer requires. It involves brutal honesty about who we are, how we feel and what we want. There’s something holy in that process. According to this story it’s the kind of prayer to which God responds. It’s also been my personal experience that when I was emotionally spent and there seemed to be nothing left, at that very point, something changed and I felt better and more able to deal with what needed to be done.

I think it is from these kinds of emotional turn-arounds that the Psalmists and today Samuel exclaims, “My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.” Note he says, “My heart.” Consider how much of what we read in the Psalms is meant to refer to human events or can be understood to be about the human emotional landscape:

 

“The LORD puts to death and gives life;

 he casts down to the nether world;

 he raises up again.

 The LORD makes poor and makes rich:

 he humbles, he also exalts.”

Isn’t that where we are most likely to find our God, connected to the deepest part of who we are? That’s certainly what is going on in today’s Gospel.

Jesus is teaching in a synagogue based on his own authority, which to me suggests he talking from his own experiences and what the Scripture of the day means in his life. So this is already a personal encounter with the group. Some man “with an unclean spirit” reveals his deepest fears. Whatever “possessed” this man, it was deeply personal. Jesus’ own personal honesty so jarred him that he couldn’t abide what that might mean for him. The Gospel has already revealed that the other people were “astonished” at what Jesus was saying. Jesus, unwilling to enable any further dysfunction, heals the pain that has occupied the deepest parts of this man.

I would suggest that praying to God: actual prayer, being able to make the connection, may require that we recognize our deepest secrets, fears, wounds and desires. Maybe we need to name the “unclean spirits” in order to expel them from our lives. God certainly is listening and waiting.