Deacon Peter

On an Eye for an Eye

(Lev.19:1-2, 17-18; 1Cor.3:16-23; Mt.5:38-48)

Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold.  It seems quite a popular dish, too, because revenge often appears in film and literature.  Hamlet, Star Wars, True Grit, Taken and The Count of Monte Cristo are all stories of people seeking justice for past wrongs.

We’ve all been hurt, at some point, by someone else, and it’s a natural thing to seek justice.  It can also be very satisfying to see wrong-doers get what they deserve.

But consider this. Towards the end of World War One, the British Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, told his chief peace negotiator, Admiral Wemyss, that the war must end at 2.30 pm on armistice day.  He wanted to be the one to tell the nation. 

Admiral Wemyss, however, thought it better to end the war at 11 am on the 11^th day of the 11^th month.  This time had a stronger and more poetic ring to it, and ending the war slightly earlier would save thousands of lives.  The French and the Germans agreed, and King George V made the announcement.

Lloyd George was furious; he’d lost his moment of glory. But he got his revenge: he cancelled Wemyss’ war pension that would have been worth over £5 million today. [i]

It seems natural to want to hurt those who hurt you. That’s what children do.  But stories like this reveal just how nasty and misguided revenge can be.

Some people try to justify revenge by quoting Moses’ rule of ‘an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth’ (Ex.21:24; Lev.24:20; Deut.19:21). This is called the Lex Talionis (law of retaliation), but its purpose wasn’t to encourage revenge.  It sought to ensure that people don’t overreact when they’re wronged.  So, if a man breaks your tooth, you can’t respond by breaking all his teeth (cf. Gen.4:23).   

Moses believed that the punishment should fit the crime, and this principle still applies in criminal law today.

But in 1963 Martin Luther King warned that this philosophy of an eye for an eye will leave everyone blind.[ii]  What he meant is that if everyone followed the tit-for-tat approach to justice, then the retaliation and the pain would never end.

Do you remember the famous feud between the MacDonalds and Campbells in 17^th Century Scotland?  Dozens of people died.

Or the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys in Kentucky and West Virginia? This vendetta began in 1878 and many were killed or wounded.  It was only in 2003 that the two families signed a formal truce. [iii]

In today’s Gospel, Jesus warns his disciples not to retaliate when someone hurts them.  In fact, he says we must love our enemies.  Not just tolerate or vaguely accept them, but actually love them.

This sounds like a real challenge, but Bishop Robert Barron says that when you hate your enemy, you confirm him as your enemy.  But when you respond to his hatred with love, you take away the very energy that feeds his hatred.

He gives the example of aikido, one of the oriental martial arts.  The idea of aikido is to absorb your opponent’s aggressive energy by moving with it, continually frustrating him until he comes to realise that fighting is useless.

‘Some people’, Barron says, ‘have pointed out that there’s a great deal of this in Jesus’ strategy of nonviolence and love of the enemy. You creatively absorb your opponent’s aggression, channelling it back against him, to show him the futility of violence. So when someone insults you, send back a compliment instead of an insult.  When someone conspires against you, work to help him’.

Such responses are bold, but non-violent.  They rob the aggressor of their power, and they can break the cycle of revenge.  They can also help the victim gain control over the situation. [iv]

Jesus isn’t expecting us to accept abuse, but he does say that any response should be non-violent.  And it is important to always seek peace.  

Mahatma Gandhi once said, ‘I object to violence because when it appears to do good, that good is only temporary.  The evil it does is permanent’. 

And in 1957, Martin Luther King said, ‘Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe.  And you do that by love’. [v]

That’s what Jesus is trying to teach us.  That’s why he says we must love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Mt.5:44). 

And that’s why Jesus prayed for those who nailed him to the Cross, saying ‘Forgive them Father, for they don’t know what they’re doing’ (Lk.23:34).

How do you respond when someone hurts you?

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[i] Jonny Taylor, Remembrance Address. Concordia, Merchant Taylors School, London, Winter 2018, p.14.

[ii] http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/quotes_contents.html

[iii] http://www.cbsnews.com/news/official-end-of-legendary-feud/

[iv] http://singtomary.blogspot.com/2018/02/todays-lenten-gospel-reflection-by.html

[v] http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/quotes_contents.html

On Scrapping the Old Testament

(Ecc.15:15-20; 1Cor.2:6-10; Mt.5:17-37)

In Roman times, a wealthy ship owner named Marcion (85-160AD) demanded that the Old Testament be scrapped. He said it was dangerous and unnecessary, and he insisted that the Scriptures should only focus on Jesus and love.

So he produced a Bible he liked.  He dropped the Old Testament, he discarded some of St Paul’s letters, and he shortened St Luke’s Gospel.  In this way, he tailored for himself a Christianity that was all about God’s goodness and love, but without any unsettling references to right and wrong, or hell or Judgment Day.  

Many people think like Marcion today.  They like Jesus’ words about love, but they really don’t want to hear anything else that God might have to say about their lives.

This is called cherry-picking.  But would Jesus approve? 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, ‘I’ve come not to abolish the Law or the Prophets, but to complete them’.  What does he mean by that?  He’s saying that the Old Testament is fundamental to his mission, and he’s come to finish the job.

There are three ways to understand the Old Testament. It’s a history book, it’s a collection of promises and it’s a set of laws. ^[i]

As a history, the Old Testament tells the story of God’s Creation and his action in the life Israel over 1000 years.  It’s the story of a family and a people, from Abraham, Isaac and Jacob down to Joseph who was enslaved in Egypt. 

It’s the story of Moses and the Exodus of the Jewish slaves from Egypt.  It’s the story of the Jewish kings, both good and bad, the forced exile of the Jews to Babylon, and their eventual return home.

Jesus’ mission is to complete this story. As the Son of God and as a descendant of King David, his job is to lead his people to eternal life in heaven.

So we can’t scrap the Old Testament.  It explains far too much about life.

The Old Testament is also a record of all the promises God made to Noah, Abraham, Moses and David, and the promises he made through the prophets. 

He has promised us a new heart (Ez.36:26), forgiveness (Ps.103:12; Mic.7:19), healing (Jer.30:17), peace (Is.26:3) and eternal life (Is.49:25).  And he promised to send us a saviour, his Son Jesus Christ (Is.53:1-12).  Someone once counted the number of God’s promises in the Bible, and found 3,573. [ii]  How will they be completed? 

Only through Jesus Christ.  So, again, we can’t scrap the Old Testament.

And finally, the Old Testament is about laws.  There are 613 of them in the Torah – the first five books of the Bible.  ‘Torah’ means ‘law’, ‘guidance’ or ‘instruction’. It contains the Law of Moses and it covers everything from ceremonial to civil and moral law (including our Ten Commandments).  There are 365 negative laws, and 248 positive laws.  Now, what’s their purpose?

Their purpose was to organise those unruly Jewish slaves after their Exodus from Egypt. God was annoyed when they worshipped a golden calf in the Sinai desert.  He wanted them to live as his people, so through Moses God gave them some laws to shape their lives.

By the time Jesus was born, however, many of these people (including the Scribes and Pharisees) had forgotten the purpose of these laws.  They only paid them lip-service; they were only interested in external appearances.

That’s why Matthew’s Gospel presents Jesus as the new Moses delivering the new divine law: The Beatitudes.  Jesus didn’t scrap the old law – he raised it to a higher level.  He said it’s not enough to be seen to do the right thing; we must be genuine about it.  We must use our hearts as well as our heads.

And Jesus gives us some examples.  He says it’s not enough to avoid murder.  Rather, we must convert our anger and our resentment into love.  And it’s not enough to merely avoid adultery.  Instead, we must avoid any impure and sinful thoughts.   And when we make any promises, we must be genuine about them.

So what happened to Marcion?  In 144 AD he was denounced as a heretic and excommunicated.

Jesus didn’t come to scrap the Old Testament.  He couldn’t, because it’s the very foundation of his work and it’s the source of our hope. 

The Old Testament, then, is a history book, and Jesus’ mission is to complete this story by leading us all to heaven. 

It’s also a collection of promises, and Jesus’ mission is to fulfil them all for us.

And it’s a set of laws, and Jesus’ mission is to complete the Law by teaching us all to use our hearts as well as our heads.

Here’s the point:  we really can’t understand the goodness and love of Jesus Christ if we ignore the very foundation of his mission – the Old Testament.

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[i] Gumbel, N. The Jesus Lifestyle. London: Alpha International, 2010:40-41.

[ii] http://www.bibleinfo.com/en/questions/how-many-bible-promises-are-there

On Candle-lamps and Saltshakers

[Is.58:7-10; 1Cor.2:1-5; Mt.5:13-16]

Today’s gospel passage occurs just after Jesus gives us his Beatitudes in his Sermon on the Mount. You know them: ‘Blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers …’ These blessings outline the life and character of true Christian disciples.

Jesus then tells his followers that they are ‘the salt of the earth’ and ‘the light of the world’.  What does he mean?

Today, we don’t much think about salt and light, except perhaps to reduce our salt intake and to lower our power bills.  But salt was precious in ancient times.  It was often traded for gold, the Greeks thought it was divine and Roman soldiers were sometimes paid in salt.

Nowadays, we take it for granted, but salt is hugely important. It cleans and heals wounds. It helps our blood flow. We use it to enhance flavour and preserve foods.  It’s used to make paper, glass, fertiliser and cleaning products.  It melts ice, it extinguishes fire, and in some places it’s used to intensify and preserve the colour of fabric dyes.  

Salt is so very useful, but on its own it’s worthless.  Rebecca Manley-Pippert, in her book Out of the Salt-Shaker, says that none of these things is possible if the salt never leaves the saltshaker.  Salt is only useful when it’s mixed with something else.

Salt must also remain pure because it’s useless when it’s contaminated.  It becomes corrosive and poisonous.

And so it is with us.  When Jesus calls us ‘the salt of the earth’, he’s talking about our character.  He’s talking about making sure we’re not polluted by the world around us.  He’s talking about all the good things we can do to make our world a better place.

Each of us has the ability to add colour and flavour to our family and workplace and community – to bring things to life.  Each of us has the capacity to go out and heal wounds, to help things grow, and to protect and preserve what’s good and worthwhile.

But none of this is possible if we keep our salt bottled up in our ‘salt-shaker’.  If we don’t use what we have, it’s worthless. ^[i]

Now, Jesus also calls us ‘the light of the world’.  What does he mean? 

In ancient times, Palestinian families typically lived in one-room homes with only one small clay candle-lamp.  Light was precious to them.  But just like salt, we tend to take it for granted today. 

And just like salt, light is essential for life.  We need it for our health.  We need it to see where we’re going and what we’re doing.  Light dispels darkness, it wakes us up, it warms us and, like the lighthouse, it warns of impending danger.

Light also symbolises knowledge, truth and understanding. 

Our world is a dark place.  So many people today are groping and stumbling about in spiritual darkness, trying to find their way.  They’re looking for a light that will lead them to safety.

All through Scripture, God is referred to as light (Is.60:1-3; Ps.27:1; 1Jn.1:5), and Jesus calls himself the light of the world (Jn.8:12). 

Jesus wants us to absorb his divine light, to make it a part of ourselves.  When we open ourselves up to him, when we let his light penetrate us, it changes us from within and we start to think and live like him. 

When that happens, God’s light shines through us, just as the sun lights up stained-glass windows. 

It’s said that when the Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevenson was a boy, he once watched an old lamplighter lighting lamps in the street.  He said to his nurse, ‘I’m watching a man put holes in the darkness’.

Who do you know who’s putting holes in the darkness today?  Who is sharing their salt and light with the world?  I can think of some examples:

Fred Hollows, the eye doctor who has restored the sight of a million people around the world. [ii]

Rosie Batty, who’s been campaigning against domestic violence ever since her partner killed their son. [iii]

And Danny and Leila Abdallah, whose three children were killed by a drunk driver in Western Sydney only last week.  Despite their profound grief, they’ve forgiven the driver, they’re promoting peace and they’ve been ministering to the needs of others. [iv]

There are many others, of course, doing all sorts of wonderful things. But being salt and light is fundamental to our Christian identity.  It’s who we are.

We are not meant to leave our salt in our saltshaker.  And we must light our candle-lamps for all to see.

In what way are you salt and light to our world?

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[i] Rebecca Manley-Pippert, Out of the Salt-Shaker and into the World. InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL. 1999.

[ii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fred_Hollows

[iii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosie_Batty

[iv] https://www.eternitynews.com.au/australia/danny-and-leila-abdallah-minister-in-the-midst-of-their-tragedy/

On Groundhog Day

(Mal.3:1-4; Heb.2:14-18; Lk.2:22-40)

Today, February 2^nd, is the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple.  Many years ago, it was known as Candlemas and it was the Church’s day for the blessing of candles. 

In the United States and Canada, today is also called Groundhog Day.  This is a folkloric tradition that grew out of Candlemas, which itself marks the mid-point between the northern winter and spring.  On Groundhog Day, a groundhog’s shadow is used to predict the weather, but I’ll come back to that shortly. ^[i] 

In today’s Gospel, Mary and Joseph go to the Temple in Jerusalem.  The Law of Moses required every mother to undergo ritual purification and to present her child for consecration to God, 40 days after giving birth (Ex.13:1-2; Lev.12). 

As the Holy Family enter the Temple, they find Simeon and Anna waiting for them inside.  The Holy Spirit long before had promised Simeon that he would not die before he’d seen the Christ, the Messiah. So, for years he and the prophetess Anna waited patiently.  When baby Jesus finally does arrive, Simeon is overjoyed.  He holds Jesus in his arms and he prays his famous prayer Nunc Dimittis: ‘Now, Master, you can let your servant go in peace, just as you promised…’

This story reveals so much about the character of these saints.  Simeon, Anna and the Holy Family are all Spirit-filled and very devout in the practice of their faith. They’re also humble, obedient and patient, and they trust God completely.  Life may be hard, but they’re happy.

Now, let’s compare them to Phil Connors, the actor Bill Murray’s character in the movie Groundhog Day (1993). He’s a cranky TV weatherman who goes to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to report on the annual Groundhog Day festival.

We soon learn that he’s an obnoxious and self-centred narcissist.  ‘People are morons’, he tells his producer Rita. He can’t wait to return home, but a snowstorm forces him and his film crew to stay.

The next morning, Phil’s alarm clock wakes him up and he’s appalled to discover that it’s Groundhog Day all over again.  He’s caught in a strange time-loop, and he has to relive this day over and over and over again.

Every day, every little action is repeated, from meeting an old school friend in the same place at the same time, to stepping into an icy pothole.  His life becomes incredibly monotonous, but he’s the only one who notices.

At first he’s amused, but then he becomes bored and then he despairs. He hates his repetitive life so much that he even tries to commit suicide.  But he’s always back the next day.

It becomes clear that what’s important in this story isn’t the groundhog’s shadow, but his own.  At one point in the film, one of the townsfolk says to Phil, ‘Watch out for your shadow there, pal!’  It’s his shadow side that’s condemning him to this endless cycle of emptiness.  It’s his sinfulness and bad behaviour that are holding him back and making him unhappy.  He’s trapped in darkness.

It’s only when Phil opens his heart that things begin to change.  He starts noticing Rita, his producer.  He’s attracted to her and her happy outlook, and he finds himself inspired by her to do good things. He makes friends, he rescues a homeless man and he even starts learning music and poetry.

It’s only when Phil genuinely discovers love that time starts to move forward for him.  That’s when he wakes up to find that it’s February 3^rd and he’s been given new life.

The movie Groundhog Day is a parable about life.  It’s full of lessons about the state of our hearts and whether we choose to live in the light or in the shadows.

The elderly Simeon and Anna in Luke’s Gospel also lived predictable and monotonous lives.  For years they went to the Temple every day, waiting for Jesus to arrive.  But what made them quite different to Phil was their deep faith.  The Holy Spirit had filled their hearts with hope, and when Jesus arrives they’re overwhelmed with joy.

Just like Jesus, we’ve all had our own official Presentation.  This happened at our Baptism, when we were presented and consecrated to God and given a candle lit from the Paschal candle.  At that moment, the priest or deacon said, ‘You have been enlightened by Christ. Walk always as a child of the light and keep the flame of faith alive in your heart…’

This light, this flame of faith and love, is the difference between a dreary repetitive existence and a life of meaning, purpose and joy.

So, the question for you today is this: 

Is this flame still burning inside you?  Or are you just living the same old life over and over and over again?

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[i] By way of background, midseason weather predictions were important to European farmers. An old English song rhymed: ‘If Candlemas be fair and bright, / Come, Winter, have another flight. / If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, / Go, Winter, and come not again’.  In other words, if the bright sun ‘overshadows’ the brightness of Candlemas Day, more winter is expected. But if the light of Candlemas Day outshines the season’s gloom and darkness, then spring is near. In 1887, German immigrants adapted this tradition in the US to create Groundhog Day. Not surprisingly, the weather predictions are notoriously unreliable.

On Leaving Our Nets Behind

(Is.8:23-9:3; 1Cor.1:10-1,17; Mt.4:12-23)

King Herod Antipas, who ruled Galilee, was ruthless.  He thought that John the Baptist was a threat to his power because he was so popular.  So he had him gaoled. [i]

Jesus grieves when he hears this.  John is his cousin, and he’s done a great job giving hope to so many people who have lived in darkness and despair under the Romans.  But now that John’s voice has been silenced, Jesus must take over.  It’s his turn to start proclaiming the kingdom of God. 

Jesus knows this is a huge task, so he starts looking for help.  He isn’t looking for prominent or well-educated disciples, however.  He wants ordinary people living ordinary lives, and he’s going to invite them to do extraordinary things.

Near Capernaum, by the Sea of Galilee, he sees two sets of brothers: Peter and Andrew, and James and John – all fishermen.  Jesus says, ‘come follow me; I will make you fishers of men’.  They all promptly drop their nets and follow him. 

Now, why do these fishermen so quickly agree to leave their nets behind?  It’s because they already know Jesus. They’ve been following John the Baptist and they’ve started to believe in Jesus as the Messiah. [ii] They’re ready for a change.

So these first disciples drop their nets. They walk away from the safety and security of their jobs and homes, and they start living new lives. 

Today, Jesus is calling us to do the same.  Not necessarily to leave our jobs and homes, of course, but he does want us to follow him.  In fact, he’s constantly calling on us to do this through the ordinary events of our daily lives.  And if we’re interested, we must be prepared to let go of anything that gets in the way.  

Sometimes, to move forward, we have to take a step back.

Everyone who wants to follow Jesus has to leave something behind.  You can’t live a new life by hanging on to the old one.  This letting go is sometimes called Detachment.  

Detachment doesn’t mean withdrawing totally from the world, because God loves our world and Jesus wants to heal it (Jn.3:16).  But before we can help Jesus make this world a better place, we must first change ourselves.

This means we must let some things go (Rom.12:2).

Too many Christians, however, are only lukewarm about their call.  They don’t want to be inconvenienced.  They don’t want to change.  So they drag their nets along after them and sometimes they get tangled up in them.  

Joseph Krempa says the problem is that we want the kingdom without changing ourselves.  ‘It’s like those who want the meal, but not the cooking; who want the grades but not the study; who want health, but not exercise; who want the salary, but not the work’.

We want all the benefits of God – the peace, the forgiveness, the growth in grace, and the sense of belonging to a spiritual community, but we don’t want to give up the nets, the entanglements that trap us, that hold us back… These are the people, the relationships and the obsessions that separate us from Christ.

‘We don’t want to give up gossiping, cutting corners, wrong relationships, immoral behaviour, habits of arrogance, rash judgments or addictions.  So we try to have it both ways, but we can’t.  Those nets weigh us down and hold us tight.’ 

All these entanglements distort our soul and mind and heart and keep us away from Jesus. [iii]

St. John of the Cross tells us that a bird tied down to earth can’t fly; it doesn’t matter if it’s tied with a thread or a rope.  An attachment is still an attachment, no matter how great or how small. Some are greater than others, but they all impede our progress.

So, if we want this new life, where do we start?  We should start with our minds.  Everything in us begins with the way we think.  There’s a wise maxim that says:

Watch over your thoughts because they become words. Watch over your words because they become actions.
Watch over your actions because they become habits.
Watch over your habits because they become your character.
Watch over your character because it becomes your destiny. [iv]

So, begin by praying to Jesus, asking him to help you.  Ask him to help you identify the things that are holding you back; the things you really need to let go.  Tell Jesus that you accept his call, and that you want to become a good disciple. 

Tell him that you’re serious about changing your life for the better.

What nets are you trapped in?   

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[i] Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews. Book 18, chapter 5.2

[ii] http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/angelus/2017/documents/papa-francesco_angelus_20170122.html

[iii] S Joseph Krempa, Captured Fire – Cycle A. St Paul’s, New York. 2005:73.

[iv] https://aleteia.org/2018/02/23/why-we-should-detach-from-the-good-world-god-made-cantalamessas-1st-lent-homily/

On Breaking Our Fall

(Is.49:3,5-6; 1Cor.1:1-3; Jn.1:29-34)

In Madrid’s Prado Museum there’s a painting called Agnus Dei (‘Lamb of God’) by the Spanish painter Francisco de Zurbarán (1598-1664).  It depicts a young lamb on a grey slab, set against a black wall.  Its legs are tied and it’s ready to be sacrificed.

This powerful and confronting image symbolises the ministry of Jesus Christ.  But where does it come from and what does it mean?

To answer that we have to go back to ancient times, when many cultures worshipped God through animal sacrifice. They believed they were unworthy to approach God without first sacrificing something they considered valuable. So the Jewish people used to sacrifice lambs, but also bulls, sheep, goats, doves and even grains.

When the ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, God heard their cry for freedom and at the Burning Bush he asked Moses to secure their release. But Pharaoh refused, so God sent a succession of plagues to soften his resistance.

Just before the final plague, God instructed every Jewish family to sacrifice a lamb and to paint its blood on their door posts.  This was culturally appropriate for the time, and it helped the Angel of Death to identify and ‘pass over’ their homes. Only then did Pharaoh allow them to leave (Ex.12:1-27).

Those sacrificed lambs meant new life for the Jewish people, as they journeyed from slavery to freedom in the Promised Land. They have been celebrating their ‘Passover’ ever since. [i]

The Gospel of John, from which today’s Gospel reading comes, often alludes to the Passover.  It begins with John the Baptist announcing Jesus’ arrival to his disciples: ‘Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’  And it ends with Jesus being crucified at the very same time that the lambs are slaughtered in the nearby Temple.

John’s message to us is clear:  Jesus is the ultimate and perfect Lamb of God.

Now, the problem with the Law of Moses and its prescriptions for animal sacrifice is that the people never changed.  They just continued living their sinful lives (Heb.10:4; Rom.8:3). 

A new, more effective, approach was required, so God sent his only Son to live among us, to teach us how to live.  He taught us that selfless love is the only necessary form of sacrifice.  But sadly, it resulted in his crucifixion. 

Why did Jesus die on the Cross?  It wasn’t because God demanded a blood offering.  Not at all. Jesus sacrificed himself because that is the essence of true love (Phil.2:5-8).  We know from our own experience that we cannot truly love others without making sacrifices.  And losing our life for the sake of another is the supreme test of love (1Jn.3:16-18; Eph.5:1-2).  That’s why Jesus died.

The Franciscan theologian Richard Rohr writes: ‘In the Hebrew tradition, the Passover lamb was a perfect, unblemished sheep or goat that apparently lived in the family home for four days before it was sacrificed (Ex.12:1-8). That’s just long enough for the children to fall in love with the lamb’. 

The innocent lamb, he says, symbolises not only the innocent Christ, but also the illusion of our innocent selves.  We must shed this false image if we are to grow spiritually, so it is precisely the beloved and innocent ‘lamb’ that must die.

Rohr adds that we must accept that we’re all complicit and profiting from the corporate ‘sin of the world’ and no one is pure or innocent. [ii]

We know that our world is full of sin, violence and corruption.  And we know that in the end our world cannot promise us anything other than the dark emptiness of death.   

But Jesus wants so much more for us (Jn.10:10).  That’s why he showed us how to live a life of love, even to the point of making the ultimate sacrifice.  And it’s incredibly significant that he also rose again to new life. 

Jesus’ selfless act is actually the new Passover from death to life: for him and for us all.

In Werden, Germany, there’s a church with a statue of a lamb on the roof. During its construction, a stonemason fell from the scaffolding.  His co-workers thought he’d died, but he survived. Some sheep had been passing below the tower and a lamb had broken his fall.   That lamb died, but the man was saved. 

In gratitude for saving his life, the stonemason carved a statue of the lamb and placed it on the tower. [iii]

If it weren’t for Jesus’ self-sacrifice, we too would be falling into oblivion.  Without Jesus, there’s no escape from sin, there’s no escape from death. 

The perfect Lamb of God however has broken our fall.  Jesus has saved us.

But – only if we have faith and follow in his way.

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[i] https://www.chabad.org/holidays/passover/pesach_cdo/aid/1827/jewish/The-Passover-Story-in-a-Nutshell.htm

[ii] Richard Rohr, Doing the Victim Thing Right. https://cac.org/doing-the-victim-thing-right-2019-04-16/

[iii] https://www.frtommylane.com/stories/cross_of_Jesus/Lamb_of_God.htm

On a Name Like No Other

(Is.42:1-4,6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Mt.3:13-17)

‘What’s in a name?’ Juliet asks in Shakespeare’s famous play. She loves Romeo, but their families are at war.

Names are just an arbitrary tag, Juliet thinks.  She loves the man, not his moniker: ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’, she says. ^[i]  But are our names so unimportant?

The German poet Goethe (1749-1832) once wrote: ‘A man’s name is not like a mantle which merely hangs about him, and which one perchance may safely twitch and pull, but a perfectly fitting garment, which, like the skin, has grown over and over him, at which one cannot rake and scrape without injuring the man himself.’ [ii]

Our names serve many purposes.  They distinguish us from others, they bind us to history, and they underpin our identity and personality. And a good name is especially valuable, for it reflects integrity and it earns trust (Prov.22:1). 

But to lose one’s name can be a wretched thing.  Jean Valjean, in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, feels degraded when he’s called ‘24601’ in prison.[iii]  And David Pelzer, in his memoir A Child Called It, finds it dehumanising when his abusive mother starts calling him ‘The Boy’ and ‘It’ when he’s only four. [iv]

Names, however, can also give new life.  In Genesis, God renames Abram and Sarai. They become Abraham and Sarah, the ‘father and mother of many nations’ (Gen.17:5, 15).  God also gives Jacob (meaning ‘cheat’) a new identity.  He becomes Israel (‘struggles with God and prevails’), reflecting his new role as patriarch of the Israelites (Gen.32:28).

And Jesus gives Simon a new name (Jn.1:42), calling him Peter, ‘the rock on which I will build my church’ (Mt.16:18). 

In each case, God embeds his love, and their special mission, in their names. 

Today, as we celebrate the baptism of Jesus Christ, we remember that every baptism starts with the question: ‘What name do you give your child?’  This sacrament is essentially about our identity.  It’s about who we are, and who we will become. 

Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River marks a new beginning for him. He’s filled with the Holy Spirit and his Father announces: ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, in whom I am well pleased’.  At that moment, Jesus’ identity changes.

He’s no longer just the humble carpenter’s son.  He’s now the beloved Son of God, and this is the start of his public ministry.

Jesus’ name still sounds the same, but its essence has completely changed.  His mission – his life purpose – is now deeply embedded in his name.

And so it is with us.  At Baptism our identity changes, too.  We’re initiated into the life of Christ and we’re warmly welcomed as members of God’s holy family (Eph.1:5).  

And our mission is embedded in our name, as well.

Bishop Robert Barron says that one of the earliest descriptions of Baptism is vitae spiritualis ianua, which means ‘the door to the spiritual life’.

Christianity, he says, isn’t just about ‘becoming a good person’ or ‘doing the right thing’. Rather, to be a Christian is to be grafted onto Christ and hence drawn into the very dynamics of God’s inner life.  We become a member of his Mystical Body, sharing in his relationship to the Father. [v]

Pope Benedict XVI puts it this way.  He says that Baptism always repeats the last words of Jesus in the Gospels: ‘in the name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit’ (Mt 28:19).  This expression in the Greek text is critical, he says, for it means an immersion into the name of the Trinity.  Baptism therefore leads to an ‘interpenetration of God’s being and our being, just like in marriage, when two persons become one flesh and a single new reality’ is formed.

Pope Benedict XVI adds that in the Scriptures, God calls himself ‘the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob’ (Gen.50:24; Ex.3:15). This is precisely what happens when we’re baptised, he says.  We become inserted into the name of God, so that we belong to his name and his name becomes our name, too, and we’re enabled to be a sign of who he is. ^[vi]

A name, then, is so much more than a label, especially after Baptism.  Each name tells a story and paves the way for a lifetime of noble purpose.

When we’re immersed in the waters of Baptism, we’re simultaneously immersed in the life of God.  We’re filled with his Holy Spirit and we emerge with a name like no other.  And embedded in it is our own special mission.

At his Baptism, Jesus knows that things have changed.  He goes into the desert for forty days to reflect on what it means and what God wants him to do next.

We should do the same.

So, what is your name? 

And what is your special mission?

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[i] William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, https://www.playshakespeare.com/romeo-and-juliet/scenes/301-act-ii-scene-2

[ii] http://quotation.cloud/johann-wolfgang-von-goethe-a-name-is-not-like-a-mantle/

[iii] Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, http://www.online-literature.com/victor_hugo/les_miserables/90/

[iv] https://www.amazon.com/Child-Called-Childs-Courage-Survive/dp/1558743669

[v] https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/homily/vitae-spiritualis-ianua/

[vi] http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/speeches/2012/june/documents/hf_ben-xvi_spe_20120611_convegno-ecclesiale.html

On a Light in the Darkness

[Is.60:1-6; Eph.3:2-3, 5-6; Mt.2:1-12]

Today we celebrate the Epiphany of Our Lord. In common parlance, an epiphany is a moment of sudden awakening.  It’s a moment of clarity when a light shines in the darkness and we see something new.

The Feast of the Epiphany, however, is much more than that.  It’s the celebration of the revelation that Jesus is the Messiah – God-made-man – and the visit of the Wise Men from the East is his first appearance to the Gentiles.  It reveals that Jesus’ mission is not just to the Jewish people, but also to the whole world. 

Pope Benedict says that these Magi represent a new beginning for humanity, as people start journeying towards Christ.  This is a procession, he says, that has continued all through history. [i]

But, he adds, although ‘twenty centuries have passed since that mystery was revealed, it has not yet reached fulfilment, (for) an overall view of the human race shows that this mission is still only beginning’. ^[ii]

God has always loved us (Ps.136), so how is it that Jesus’ mission is only just starting?  Matthew’s Gospel today helps us to understand.  It reveals that people tend to respond to Jesus in one of three ways – but sadly, only one is positive. 

The first response is fear.  When the Wise Men ask Herod where the infant King of the Jews might be, he feels threatened.  The Romans then were at war with the Parthian Empire, and the previous king of Judea, Antigonus, was a Parthian ally. The Romans had him executed and had Herod replace him. 

Herod knows that the Magi come from Parthia, and he fears for his throne.  So he feigns interest in their search, but secretly he plans to kill Jesus.  When the Magi fail to return, he has every infant boy in Bethlehem slaughtered (Mt.2:16).

This fear of Jesus and his message continues today.  We see it in the Middle East, China and elsewhere, where intolerant regimes persecute Christians.  We see it in some organisations and individuals, too.  Whether it’s fear of the unknown, fear of change or fear of the truth, they’re hostile towards Jesus.

The second response to Jesus is indifference, and we see this in the priests and scribes.  When Herod asks where the infant king might be, they know it’s Bethlehem because they know their Scripture. 

The Jewish people had been searching for the Messiah since Moses first prophesied his coming (Deut.18:15), and Micah even foretold where to find him (Mic.5:2).  So why don’t these religious leaders go to Bethlehem themselves?  After all, it’s only 9 km (6 miles) from Jerusalem.  

It’s because they are too proud and too self-important to bother.  Many people are like this today.  They’ll only accept Jesus on their own terms.  I once asked a young woman if she was Catholic.  She replied, ‘Oh no. I don’t belong to any church. I won’t join any until I find one that agrees with everything I believe.’

Some people don’t want to be challenged.  They don’t want to change, even if it’s for the better.

The third response to Jesus is adoration. In ancient Israel shepherds were outcast because their work was dirty and Jewish society was obsessed with cleanliness. However, when they hear that the Saviour has come for all people, and not just for the few, they rush to welcome and adore him (Lk.2:1-20).

The Magi, too, adore Jesus.  They traverse vast deserts and brave enemy lands to find him.  As St. John Baptist de La Salle said, ‘They feared nothing, because the faith which inspired them… caused them to forget and even scorn all human considerations…’ ^[iii]

Like the shepherds, the Wise Men can see what Herod and the religious leaders cannot: that Jesus is the Son of God who came to save us (Lk.19:10; Mk.2:17; Is.49:16). They realise that to experience Jesus is to know God personally.

Martin Luther King Jr once said, ‘We may feel at times that we don’t need God, but then one day the storms of disappointment will begin to rage and if we don’t have a deep and patient faith our emotional lives will be ripped to shreds.  This is why there’s so much frustration in the world.

‘We’re relying on gods rather than God.  We’ve genuflected before the god of science, only to find that it has given the atomic bomb, producing fears that science can never mitigate. We’ve worshipped the god of pleasure, only to discover that thrills play out and sensations are short-lived. We’ve bowed before the god of money only to learn that in a world of possible depressions, money is a rather uncertain deity.

‘These transitory gods cannot save or bring happiness to the human heart,’ he said. ‘Only God is able. It’s faith in him that we must rediscover.’ [iv]

A light is shining in the darkness right now, and Jesus’ manifestation forces us to choose. 

What is your response?  Is it fear? 

Indifference? 

Or adoration?

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[i] Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives. Image: New York. 2012:89.

[ii] http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/homilies/2007/documents/hf_ben-xvi_hom_20070106_epifania.html

[iii] https://lasallianresources.org/news/the-feast-of-the-epiphany/

[iv] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/draft-chapter-xiii-our-god-able

On Michelangelo’s Holy Family

(Sir.3:2-6, 12-14; Col.3:12-21; Matt.2:13-15, 19-23)

Today is Holy Family Sunday, so let’s take a moment to reflect on Michelangelo’s famous painting of The Holy Family. [i]  It’s also known as the Doni Tondo [ii] and you’ll find it in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

This is the only finished panel painted by Michelangelo (1475–1564) that’s still in existence.  It’s round (‘rotondo’) and 120 cm in diameter.  Michelangelo finished it shortly before he started painting the Sistine Chapel in 1508. 

Look closely.  It shows Jesus, Mary and Joseph sitting in a field.  They are a close and loving family, but Mary is the central figure here because it’s through her that God worked his miracle of the virgin birth.  

Mary appears young and athletic, while her husband Joseph seems older and wiser.  He’s squatting down and cradling Mary between his legs.  He seems to be embracing her with all his love and protection. 

Mary has a book on her lap; it represents the Word of God.  She’s also sitting on the grass, and this shows that she’s very down-to-earth. But it also tells us that it is Mary who connects the earth with Jesus, the child she’s holding up high. 

Baby Jesus is being passed between Mary and Joseph.  We can’t say who’s passing Jesus to whom, but it’s clear that they share equally in his parenting.  It’s clear that they both adore him.

Jesus is being held up high against the heavenly skies, where he comes from.  This elevation reminds us of the Body of Christ being raised up high in the Holy Eucharist.  At the same time, Jesus is being offered as a gift to us all. 

Joseph is higher in the frame than Jesus and Mary. This tells us that he leads this family.  He’s the protector, the breadwinner and the most senior member. 

Now, notice their heads.  Together they form an inverted triangle that points to the earth.  It also reflects the inseparable communion of the Holy Trinity.  And look at their eyes: there’s a deep intimacy there.  Joseph’s eyes are firmly fixed on Jesus, while Jesus looks at his mother and Mary lovingly returns his gaze.  This is the most tender group of figures Michelangelo ever painted. [iii]

Behind the Holy Family is a low grey wall, and to the right is a child. That’s John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin and the patron saint of Florence. He’s wearing camel hair, he’s holding a long stick and he’s standing in a pool of water.  That stick, or cane, is a reference to the Crucifixion.

John is also looking straight at Jesus because he knows that their destinies are linked.  One day he’ll be preparing the way for the Lord.

Further back, there are five naked figures sitting on a stone wall.  They seem self-obsessed and they don’t even notice Jesus or his family. These figures represent our pagan world and they’re separated from the Holy Family by that grey wall which symbolises original sin.

Now, look at the flora.  In front of John the Baptist there’s a small plant which looks like a cross between a hyssop and a cornflower.  Hyssop represents baptism and the humility of Christ, while the cornflower symbolises heaven.

In the foreground, the clover represents salvation and the Trinity, and the anemone plant symbolises faith and the Passion of Christ, which is still to come. 

The central focus of this painting, however, is the Holy Family, and their rich fabrics and vivid colours highlight the beauty and the joy of the Christian life.

The colour purple indicates that Joseph comes from the royal line of David.  The golden yellow represents truth and the presence of God.  The pink stands for love and tenderness.  Mary’s blue mantle represents peace and tranquillity, and the green speaks of nature, health and growth.

So, let’s summarise. Starting from the back of this painting, Michelangelo is reminding us that we all live in a pagan and materialistic world that’s really going nowhere. 

He’s telling us that if we want a deeper and more meaningful life – and, indeed, eternal life – then we need to come forward and leave our lives of sin behind.  We need to pass through the waters of Baptism and consciously accept the Word of God.   Only then we can live as members of God’s holy family. ^{[iv] [v] [vi]}

The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, then, is being offered to us today as the ideal model for our own daily lives.

Now, have you noticed that Mary is pointing to you?  Look at her right elbow.  Her hands are busy, but through her arm she’s drawing us towards Jesus and she’s inviting us to enter into their beautiful life.

We, too, can live like the Holy Family.

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[i] The Holy Family, tempera on wood, by Michelangelo, 1506/08; in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence.

[ii] It is known as the Doni Tondo, because it was commissioned by Agnolo Doni, a wealthy merchant, and it is round (‘rotondo’).

[iii] https://www.italian-renaissance-art.com/Doni-Tondo.html

[iv] https://www.christianart.today/daily-gospel-reading/91

[v] http://giorgionetempesta.com/?page_id=224

[vi] https://www.theartist.me/collection/oil-painting/doni-tondo/

On the Baby Asleep on the Hay

(Isa.62:1-5; Acts 13:16-17, 22-25; Mt.1:18-25)

Merry Christmas!  Today we celebrate God’s remarkable gift to each one of us.  That gift is Jesus, and he’s being offered to us right now as a baby asleep on the hay. 

This gift is like no other.  Why?  It’s because Jesus is the Prince of Peace who shows us how to live a life of meaning and love.  And he’s the Light of the World who promises us eternal life.  No other present even comes close!

Through the ages, millions of people have accepted this marvellous gift of Jesus and found their lives transformed.  And they have happily shared his story with their family and friends.

But the world has changed, and in many places today you have to look hard to find any reminder of the real Christmas. Sure, there are lots of Santas and Christmas trees and decorations around.  But in many homes and communities now, there’s no mention of Jesus or the Holy Family at all.

It’s sad, because many people have forgotten what Christmas actually means.

Today, I have a story for you, written by Jo Fiore, one of our wonderful parishioners.  It’s about a young boy who lines up for a photo with Santa Claus.  And while he waits with his mother, he sees a beautiful picture in a shop window.

As they waited in line for a photo, and the last minute shoppers rushed by,
A picture displayed in a window attracted the little one’s eye. And he called to his mother, ‘Mum, come look and see! There’s a baby asleep on some hay!
There’s a lady, a man, some shepherds and sheep, and three kings with gifts on the way!’

And the questions poured out, ‘Mum, who is this baby, and do you know his sweet name?
And when was He born, and where did He live, and does anyone know why He came?’
The child’s mother paused, remembering a time when the questions she’d asked were the same.
Her own mother’s words gently came to her mind, and memories lit up like a flame.

‘The name of the baby is Jesus; He came to save people on earth.
He was born in a stable in Bethlehem and at Christmas we honour His birth.
That’s Mary and Joseph right there at His side. See the shepherds bow down to adore.
The Magi bring gifts only fit for a king, and the angels sing ‘Peace evermore.’

He came to show how God loves us, and to teach us the way we should live.
To be kind to all others and if we are hurt, how we should quickly forgive.
The little one looked at his mother, and he noticed a tear in her eye.
‘You’ve never told me that story before, Mum. It makes me feel happy. Don’t cry!’

They lined up again to see Santa, who greeted them both with a smile.
‘And what would you like for Christmas, young man?’ The little one thought for a while.
‘Well, I don’t need any more presents, and I don’t need any more toys,
But I’d like you to pass on a message, to all of the world’s girls and boys.

Can you tell them that in that far corner, there’s something the whole world should see?
And maybe if they paid a visit, they too can be happy, like me!
Can they each ask their mother and father, to tell them the story today,
The story my mother just told me, about Jesus asleep on the hay.

This year, let’s teach our children the real story of the first Christmas, for this is our story, too! 

And let’s make sure they understand all the signs and symbols that are around us at this time of year:

The Christmas Tree, the Star, the Wreath and Candles, the Bells, the Angels, the Shepherds and their Sheep, the Wise Men with their Gifts, Mary and Joseph, and the Baby Asleep on the Hay.

They all mean something very special.

Especially the Baby Asleep on the Hay!

Merry Christmas!