22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 28, 2011

Jeremiah 20:7-9; Rom 12:1-2,22a; Mt 16:21-27

In the first reading a prophet Jeremiah feels duped, tricked by God. Jeremiah did everything what God asked of him:

1.    He never married and lived a celibate style of life – when marriage among Jeremiah’s people was seen as an act of duty and honor in which people became active partners of God in his act of creation.

2.    He abstained from participation in his village wedding and funeral celebrations – which were the most memorable times of community’s life and when this behavior was considered as an insult.

3.    He proclaimed boldly that the very essence of the religion which God wanted from his people was not included in the religious institutions but in the direct relationship between people and God.

          But  in return Jeremiah received no respect and experienced only persecution and suffering.

          In the last week's gospel Peter declared Jesus to be a long awaited Messiah who would save the people, and for this he was praised. But in today's gospel he is publically and rather severely admonished  by Jesus. Why? As we have heard because Peter thought more like we do not like God does. What's wrong with that? Many of us would not want our close friend to suffer.

          Was Peter admonished because he deeply believed as most people of his times that the Messiah would be a warrior king who would sweep the Romans from Palestine and lead Israel to power?  This Messiah would be welcomed in triumph by his own people, not exposed by them to suffering.

But what about us? What about our believes and convictions in regard to God, Christ, or religion we practice? Don't some of them stand in our way of hearing God's voice in our lives? Do we still believe:

·       That God does favor one nation or race or people over another?

·       That God’s love for us depends on how we conduct our lives?

·       That the misfortunes in our lives are God’s punishments for our sins?

·       That to be a good Christian we need to live ascetic lives denying ourselves any pleasures?

·       That we will never get sick or suffer if we only go to church and live good moral lives?

·       We also live in very egocentric culture. Everything seems to be about "I" or "Us". We tend to focus on self most of the time: on self-esteem, self-abasement, self-fulfillment, self-emptying. Is this self-absorption  the Way to God?

What cherished beliefs we might have to abandon to understand who Jesus truly is, who we are as his disciples, and what we do here gathering in this space every weekend? And what would need to fill that void afterwards so we would not feel duped, or admonished, or empty?       

Self-mortification, suffering, or giving things up definitely do not automatically make us Christians. But what does? What is truly that cross that Jesus talks about in today's gospel?

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2011

Isa 56:1,6-7; Rom 11:13-15,29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

          Today's gospel story,  if taken as a realistic "historical" report could raise some difficult or inappropriate questions. Just to give some examples of them:

·       Why is Jesus so harsh and offensive to this Canaanite woman? After all, he loved children, he heeled other sick at random, he befriended sinners, ate with outsiders, even touched lepers.

·       Does the Canaanite woman finally outsmart him in an argument and get him to do something he did not want to do?

·       How did she come to have faith in Him? She calls him Lord.

·       Does Jesus rescind his earlier declaration that he is only sent to the people of Israel?

          Trying to answer those questions we might come to some not very orthodox conclusions, for example:

          Jesus at some points of his life was  a reluctant healer, or a hater of Canaanites, or a chauvinist.

          Or we could embellish and place today's gospel story in the service of the ideology, that the Canaanite represents:

·       an aggressive single parent who defies cultural taboos,

·       acts to free Jesus from his sexism and racism,

·       bests him in an argument,

·       and herself becomes the vehicle of his liberation and the deliverance of her daughter.  

          There are some tough choices, regarding the interpretation  of the story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman,  placed in front of us. Therefore,  I would propose that  today we would take an option of looking at this story not as a strict "historical report" but the story by which evangelist Matthew  attempts to communicate to us three important theological points concerning the meaning of God's saving history and the meaning of our faith.

1.    God has a plan for salvation history in which salvation is offered first to the Jews (during Jesus'  ministry) then broadened to include all nations after Easter. Today's story is a sign of what is to come. Like the kingdom of God, which is to come in its fullness only in the future, it already erupts into the present in different ways. The Canaanite woman somehow has some understanding of it. The salvation history as theological subject should not be viewed in absolute terms. God is not enslaved by any theology. Theology, valuable and necessary as it is, need not stand in the way of the divine compassion or human faith. There are boundaries to any theology.

2.    Our respectful, prayerful struggle with the God whom we try to understand through the lenses of  a particular theology is not unbelief, but the sign of great faith. As a matter of fact it is not right and it is not healthy to absolutize any theology, or to reject it,  or to be resigned to it all our lives without any doubts or struggles. We have to struggle with what we know about God and his plans in regard to us so we can grow in faith and deepen our relationship with Him.

3.    The story of a Canaanite, a Gentile, woman from today's gospel gives us an example of that great faith, of that respectful struggle. It  also challenges our sexism or racism or elitism when we tend  to consider those of different gender or ethnicity or social position as "the other", somehow more distant from God and the divine order and plan than us.

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2011

1 Kings 19:9a,11-13a; Rom 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

         

          The people about whom we read in today's readings have something in common in each other and with us. All had a sense of being overwhelmed; all felt helpless facing the situations of their lives.

          The Prophet Elijah had fled to Mount Horeb, trying to escape from the wrath of Jezebel, Ahab's queen, who had convinced her husband that the prophet should be killed. For a while Elijah had preached unpopular message, calling his leaders and people to repent and stop worshipping false god Ba'al which statue was erected in the temple. When Elijah's words fell on deaf ears and hardened hearts,  as the punishment there was no rain or dew to quench the thirst of people or water the parched land. To add insult to injury , Elijah defeated the prophets of Ba'al whom Jezebel had sent to triumph over him, and then he ordered his followers to kill them. Jezebel infuriated by the actions of the prophet wanted him dead. With nowhere else to turn, Elijah prayed to God to take his life, but God offers him something else. This is where we meet Elijah in today's first reading.

          Paul, in his letter to the Romans in the chapters 9 to 11, mourns for his Jewish sisters and brothers who had refused to recognize Jesus as their messiah. For a long time he longed that they would know the fulfillment he had found on the road to Damascus.  He pleaded his case with passion, but to no avail.

          In the Gospel, Jesus responds to Peter's request to come to him on the water. But when Peter left the relative safety of the boat to brave the sea and the wind, he panicked.

          Many of us who experienced the fear of being lost, who felt hopeless and alone  when life seemed overwhelming can easily identify with Elijah, Paul and Peter.

          When we are contemplating an unknown future, fear can sometimes claim our reason, our peace, our hope. We might be inclined to follow Elijah's lead and flee to the desert, or we might feel like Peter, about to drown in a dangerous sea. But it is in that moment that God invites us to move from fear to faith.

          Are you willing to accept God's invitation knowing that He is aware of what you are facing?