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Before we examine the middle part of Luke’s Gospel that is often called the “Journey Narrative” it might be helpful to point out a few principals about the Gospel texts. 

The collection of literature or writing that make up both the Old and New Testament is called the “Canon.” The word comes from a Greek word meaning “Rule” or “Measuring Stick.” By about 115, Ignatius, the Bishop of Antioch, writes about the “Gospel” as he knew it in four parts or versions. By 180, the Bishop of Lyon, Irenaeus writes about the “Gospel” as a fourfold text. By this time, Luke’s work has been split into two, and the portion that continues after the Resurrection is separated from the Gospel. What I want you to understand is that the development of the New Testament as we have it today, was a very slow process that did not really come together until the work of Saint Jerome in the fourth century as he worked to translate them all from what original texts could be gathered together.

For all of the Gospel there are two major sources:

1)        Oral Tradition, which is the stories passed on by memory from one place to the next and from one generation to the next. This tradition came first.

2)        A collection of the Miracle Stories seems to have been passed around from one community to the next.

From these two sources, Mark assembles a Gospel which may have depended upon Peter as one of his sources. It would have been oral. The writers of both Matthew and Luke both seem to have had all three of these sources at their disposal, and blended them together depending upon their focus, the audience, and the circumstances for which they presented the Gospel. 

As I said in the first of this series, this third gospel is anonymous, as are the other three canonical gospels. This makes it quite different from the writings of Paul whose name appears through his writing. We can tell from the Gospel that the writer was not an eyewitness. He depends on the testimony of others. He is a second or third generation Christian, and he is scarcely a native Palestinian. His knowledge of the geography and customs seems inadequate suggesting he did not live there. This Gospel avoids the use of Semitic words, and it omits gospel traditions about Jesus’ controversies with the Pharisaic understanding of the Low and about what is clean and unclean. He is obviously a rather well-education person, a good writer acquainted with both OT literary traditions and those of the Greeks. The Luke of this Gospel is probably not an apostle. He is an apostolic evangelist.

By the latter half of the 2nd century this book we all know as the Gospel of Luke was

being attributed to a Luke who was a companion of Paul. Three references speak of him as a fellow worker and beloved physician who was faithful to Paul in a final imprisonment. Many scholars believe that when Paul speaks of “we” implying that he was not travelling alone, it was Luke who was to be included in that “we.” At the same time, there are things in Luke’s Gospel that do not match with things in Paul’s writings which would suggest that Luke and Paul were not exactly together all the time. In the fourth chapter of Colossians, Paul mentions Luke in a list of those who are with him, and Paul divides the group into those “who have come over from the Circumcision” from others implying that Luke is not a Jew. We know this much: he was a physician, or least more than the other gospel writers Luke pays more attention to the medical matters that occur in the Gospel, for instance, the description in the Good Samaritan story or the comment about many physicians unable to cure. A sometime companion or collaborator of Paul, a disciple who had not witnessed the ministry of Jesus, he wrote his Gospel for Gentile converts after the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, and began his work with Chapter Tree and probably later added the Infancy Narrative as I said in the last talk.

We do not know where he was from, but his language (Greek) and some other clues suggest he was a native of Antioch in Syria. That does not mean the Gospel was assembled there. Scholars agree that it was not written in Palestine. Those same scholars believe it was written after the year 70. His constant pessimism in Luke about the fate of Jewish leaders and Jerusalem makes it likely that Jerusalem has already been destroyed. At the same time, it was before the year 100 because he writes in the second part (Acts of the Apostles) about the Church in Ephesus because he only seems to know about the church structure of presbyters. There is no sign of the developed pattern of having one bishop in each church, which is clearly noted by Ignatius in the decade before 110.

It is commonly believed that he was writing for Gentile Christians in a Gentile setting. There are all sorts of indications that support this. He eliminates materials that are predominantly Jewish preoccupations from what may be his source. Mark. He substitutes Greek names for Aramaic names. He traces the genealogy back to Adam and God not just to David or Abraham as in Matthew. When he quotes the Old Testament, he uses the Greek version.

With Chapter Three we read what scholars believe to be the original beginning of Luke’s Gospel. Read aloud, the first six verses have the character of an Imperial Edict. The chapter establishes the identity of Jesus with his unique emphasis on the Holy Spirit. Of all the Gospels, this is the one that brings the Holy Spirit into the tradition and faith of the Christian Community. The Spirit is there at the moment of Baptism when the voice says: “This is My Beloved Son.” Then right after his revelation of divinity of Jesus as                   

God’s Son, Luke inserts that genealogy and lists the ancestors of Jesus to affirm his humanity. There is no going forward without this distinct affirmation of the Incarnation. And the divine/human nature of Jesus. Then, as the fourth chapter opens, Luke tells us that Jesus was led by the Spirit to the wilderness where he is tempted by the devil. The temptations themselves are each worth a lot of prayerful reflection, but that’s not for tonight. Luke moves on as Jesus begins his ministry in Galilee. He goes home. Now remember what Luke said at the very beginning: this is an orderly account of events. That does not mean it is historical. This is theological, and so the “order” has to do with theological order or perhaps theological priorities. THIS IS NOT HISTORY!

Jesus would not remain alone in the Gospel Mission, and it would not cease with his death and resurrection. Having presented the identity of Jesus, the message, and the mission of Jesus, Luke focuses on the disciples and shows how their own life, work, and mission is rooted in a special call. This part opens (again Luke’s dramatic style) by the lake of Gennesaret where Jesus calls Simon Peter and his companions to missionary discipleship. Then, the scene shifts from the lake to a city where Jesus demonstrates his healing power, a power exercised with due respect for the law and religious legal authority (5:15 “Go show yourself to the priests). This event reveals the basis for the developing conflict between Jesus and the Scribes and Pharisees. There is a triple challenge concerning their integrity and relationship to the Law.

1)    In a home: the healing of a paralytic reveals his power to forgive sins. (Open the roof)

2)    At a banquet hosted by Levi forgiveness is related to the call of disciples and a new way of life

3)    Two sabbath day incidents:

a.    In grain fields and

b.    In a synagogue present how this new way of life with values transcend the Pharisees’ interpretation of Sabbath observance.

Through this whole section, the focus is on the identity of Jesus (Who is this?). Yet this provides the bases for the identity of disciples. Once you know who Jesus is, you know who you are. Once you know what Jesus does, you know what you must do. The work of reconciliation is our work. It is the work of the Church. As the identity is focused, the whole issue of a new way of life begins to surface. Conflict develops in that home cure, in the meal, and finally over the sabbath observance. Then, in the 11th verse of Chapter 6, Luke says: “They were filled with fury and discussed with one another what they might do to Jesus.” Now, for the first time in just six chapters, Luke uses one of his dramatic techniques to change the scene. He has Jesus withdraw “to the mountain to pray.”

Peter has already been on the scene, but now it’s time for the others. It is Luke’s way of emphasizing the primacy of place held by Peter. From the very beginning the status of Peter is affirmed. So, by way of summary, from Chapter 3 till Chapter 6, incident by incident, Luke develops the hostility of the scribes and Pharisees. They are watching, and gradually, they begin to pick up a pattern they don’t like. Fasting is called into question. The Sabbath is not observed the way they like. Meals are shared with tax Collectors, and Jesus is in the company of sinful women and even a Roman Centurion The last straw comes for them when he begins to speak of and proclaim the forgiveness of sins. Furious at being completely undone and unwilling to change, the scribes and the Pharisees have no alternative. They must find a way to rid themselves of Jesus.

Now, Jesus begins to establish the new Israel whose leaders would later be formed and actually sent on the mission. This new Israel will have twelve tribes just like the old Israel. Instead of tribes there will be Apostles, and he calls them from among the disciples. Then comes a description of life in the New Israel. The Lukan Beatitudes, an instruction on love, a warning against judging others, the need to bear good fruit, and the importance of a solid foundation. Then Jesus responds to the plea of a Roman Centurion and raises the son of a woman form Nain, making it clear that the new Israel will be very inclusive. A resolution of the relationship with John the Baptist ends this section with more examples of this inclusiveness as several incident with women are included.

With all that by way of introduction, Jesus calls the twelve together (Chapter 9) gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. When they return with the glowing report, Luke, almost as an aside or maybe a warning, inserts the news that Herod was perplexed and asks the question; “Who is this?” Meanwhile, Jesus has taken the apostles aside for some talk, and a huge crowd found them. At the end of the day, the crowd is hungry. The disciples recognize this, and Jesus tells them to feed the crowd. When the don’t know what to do, Luke resolves the matter with what can only be described as a preview of the Last Supper and the Holy Eucharist quoting Jesus, he took, blessed, broke, and gave. Then, the scene closes as Jesus goes off to pray alone. This time the disciples are near. Jesus asks about his identity. If Luke were writing stage directions as well as a dialogue, there would be a drum roll as Peter proclaims Jesus to be the Messiah of God! Trumpets would sound, lights would flash. Then, Jesus tells them what lies ahead: suffering and death. Lest they be discouraged, he takes them up a high mountain and the Transfiguration occurs. Again, a voice from heaven speaks to the witnesses: “This is my Son, my chosen one; listen to him.” They come down and again he warns of his betrayal. With verse 51 now in Chapter 9, it says: “He set his face to go to Jerusalem.” With that the Journey narrative takes off.

It begins in Galilee and it moves toward Jerusalem. That movement is constant in Luke’s Gospel, and it is easy to call the middle of Luke’s Gospel between the Infancy Narrative and the Passion, “The Journey Narrative.” Jesus is now on the move, and as he begins, he picks up those we call, “Apostles.” Everywhere he goes, he stops at the Synagogue. Luke is always anxious to give us a Jesus who is faithful in prayer and observant of his traditions. Think how many incidents occur in that context from the Presentation of the infant in the temple by Mary and Joseph to the final observance of the Passover. Jesus prays there, and a lot of things happen there. It is clear early in the journey that he is gaining favor and a reputation that brings great crowds not only following him, but looking for him. One by one, the miracles or cures that he works get listed: and unclean spirit is cast out, and in the episode, even the unclean spirit proclaims who Jesus is, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God” says the demon. While the unclean spirits seem to know, the people just wonder. At Simon’s house, the sick are brought to him and they are cured. In another town a leper is cleansed. Then a paralytic. As Luke presents each of these individual cures, the signs that prophets said would point to the Messiah are checked off While we know what’s happening and who Jesus is, the people in the Gospel drama still are wondering.

Through this first section with the focus on the crowd, three major groups of people seem to emerge: the crowd, the disciples, and the apostles. What now becomes clear is that Luke is sensitive to the distinct historical phases of the life of the Church. There is the crowd of the curious and the needy, there is the Church (Disciples) and among them are apostles. Luke is already, even before Pentecost and Acts of the Apostles shaping the Church.

By the sixth chapter the disciples are all accounted for, and the mission begins. Luke affirms again and again that the Gospel is for everyone. So, once the Twelve have been sent out on a successful mission, and once the identity of Jesus is confirmed by Peter, the example of the twelve motivates the sending of the Seventy lest the “Disciples” think that evangelization or the work of Jesus is only the work of the twelve. So, what’s up with the number? Two pieces of history probably shaped this detail. Moses chose seventy elders to be his helpers (Numbers 11: 16-15). Scholars suggest that more likely a stronger influence is the report of seventy nations in Genesis 10. With this Luke anticipates the mission of the nations began at Pentecost. Luke is anxious for us to see how the Church originated in the life and work of Jesus.

Now comes the great journey to Jerusalem, a journey that would lead Jesus out of history in the heavens. This is also the journey of the church which accompanies Jesus on his way to God. The idea, the whole concept of Journey recalls the Exodus during which time the disorganized, tribal people led by Moses gradually by trial and error finally become God’s people and reach the promise. This kind of journey story is nothing new. It is a theme used in ancient myths, and finally it is one made holy by the Word of God. The Journey has four stages:

  1. Villages of Galilee from which the group of apostles is drawn and expanded.
  2. From Galilee the setting shifts to Jerusalem
  3. In the Temple of Jerusalem where Jesus teaches various groups that either rejected or struggle with his challenge
  4. From Jerusalem to the Father – the Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

Tonight, it is that first and second stage that we are focused on.

Again, this is not history. You cannot trace the journey on a map. There is no sense of organization for the route because it is not geographical. The destination is the Ascension, not really the city of Jerusalem. In fact, as you may notice, the narrative never says that Jesus got to Jerusalem. It simply says he entered the Temple. It never says anything about Jerusalem. The point is the Ascension is not some place. 

In the summer of 2001 I was at the Cathedral of Our Lady in Oklahoma City. I had been through the Gospel of Luke five times during that assignment of fifteen years. I was not looking forward to the summer preaching once again for the sixth time with the Gospel of Luke. One of the great benefits of staying in one parish for a while and of being the only priest there is the opportunity to really teach consistently and progressively with the Word of God. I miss that in retirement, and sometimes I am frustrated that I never get to be in the same place and the same time with the same people two Sundays in a row. It is my opinion that for the congregation, that’s a loss because there is no way to develop and really explore consistently the Word of God. In other words, none of us here can every say: “As I said last week…” Or “As we heard in the Gospel last week…” At any rate it was 2001 and I was dreading the summer months simply because I had been through those summertime gospels five times and was feeling out of ideas. One evening, I speaking with Father Stephen Happel, a life-long friend and priest companion. We were comparing notes about the summer preaching when he called my attention to the obvious fact that these chapters from nine to nineteen of Luke’s Gospel are actually a unit that ought to be treated as a whole. With that, the Holy Spirit which is so prominent in Luke’s Gospel turned on the lights. Some might think of tongues of fire, but fire always brings some light.

Beginning with verse 51 in the 9th Chapter, it begins. What we have here is a course in discipleship. What the Lukan Jesus is doing as he wanders around taking a long time to get where he is going is teaching and proposing a set of virtues that are essential for discipleship and must be at the heart of the Church Luke is forming.

The first is Poverty. Those who would follow Jesus and the Church (people) that continue his mission must be poor. The poverty Jesus commends to his followers is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved. It is not some ill to be solved, cured, and wiped out by an economic system. That kind of poverty is an issue of justice. One kind of poverty come from injustice. This virtue of poverty comes from a life style with a new way of relating to things. It has to do with what can be shared. If anything you have cannot be shared, you are in Gospel trouble. If your computer is too delicate or your car too expensive, you are not poor. God is poor. God share the sun and the rain on the good and the bad. God even shares God’s only Son. 

Then moving into Chapter 10, Jesus teaches his disciples about joy. We shall have joy as disciples because we are free of anxious concerns and worries that have nothing to do with us. In the Gospel, Jesus sent out the disciples instructing them to take nothing – to be poor. Then with nothing to worry about, nothing to lose, nothing to pack, carry, or slow them down, they are free. That quality of freedom from worry and possessive concerns that seems to weigh down the rich whose stuff is too good to loan or share is called Joy. Next, in the same chapter Jesus reveals that Mercy is a virtue of discipleship with the story of the Good Samaritan. This is a quality of generosity and compassion not just at exceptional moments or a response to disasters, but a quality that is consistent and present all the time. 

As the chapter continues, so does the formation, and hospitality becomes the next virtue. The story of Martha and Mary develops this virtue, and there is a way of looking at those two as really one person, the disciple whose life is in balance between being and doing. It is a call to keeping work and prayer in balance, and being hospitable is characteristic of God reminding us to be good guests and gracious hosts in the spirit of Abraham and Jesus.

Chapter 11 begins in a different place where Jesus teaches disciples about Perseverance which is the real secret to effective prayer because it preserves the relationship no matter how things are going. After teaching them about prayer, Jesus teaches disciples about worthy priorities as a challenge to greed. It is way of relating to things that is independent and free. This makes disciples rich in wisdom, purpose, and usefulness.

In the 12th chapter, there is a lesson of ear, with the assurance that we are never alone. The fear of abandonment is probably the greatest of all fears; and with it, the fear that there is not going to be enough of everything leads to thinking that we had better take care of ourselves because no one else will. Having the gift of freedom also means being free from fear which allows the disciple to look ahead not for something bad to happen, but for the master’s return and treat us like friends not as servants. Later in that same chapter, zeal is proposed by Jesus as a quality of discipleship. Those who have zeal in their lives are people who have a clear purpose, who know who they are, where they are going, and what they have to work with. This gives them a vibrant quality that is eager, and expectant, vigilant and ready for the Lord’s coming.

Chapter 13 raises a question to which Jesus does not respond. He never answers the question about how many or who will be saved. He simply launches into that talk about entering through the narrow door which we immediately decide means admission to heaven. The whole question comes from a world which saw reality as limited. For most people of the first century there was only so much to go around including salvation. Competition was endemic to the religious as well as the economic sphere. In the end, Jesus instructs that disciples are saved, and saved disciples live at home in the present because they have been given bread. They know the comfort of forgiveness because they have forgiven each other.

In the 14th chapter, the protocol for the Banquet of Heaven is being set, and the way Jesus sees it, there is to be a radical departure form the system used in the ancient world an not entirely out of use in our own. It’s about Humility, a virtue rooted in truth. This virtue does not mean being a doormat. It means know one’s rightful place in the reign of God, and it means knowing that it is a gift. The humble find their sense of self and their identity in God, not in comparison with others. As the chapter moves on, the Lukan Jesus speaks of prudence for disciples. This a quality of life rather than behavior. Remember, first discipleship is about being something, then, from that come the doing of something. The disciple always asks what kind of person shall I be, not what shall I do. Some think that Prudence means being cautious, timid, frightened or mediocre. These are not the qualities of Prudence. In fact, they are just the opposite. Prudence seeks the best way to do the right thing. The point is the Doing. It is a virtue of action not of passive caution.

The journey and the lessons continue on with Chapter 15 when Jesus insists that a disciple is watchful. It’s those three stories about a woman sweeping the house looking for something, about a shepherd leaving 99 behind to look for just one sheep, and ridiculous father who does not go back to “business as usual” when his son takes off, never giving up hope, never living with that final and self-justifying attitude about a another that says: “They’ll just always be that way.”

The next chapter finds Jesus insisting that his disciples will be wise, that they will have a quality of Wisdom seen in faithful attention to frequent and familiar tasks of each day not matter how small and insignificant they may seem. What Luke suggests is that life consists of a series of what seem to be small opportunities like a cup of water. “Whoever is faithful in little things is faithful in bigger ones” is the way he puts it. Wise disciples will know what is of lasting value and what is fleeting. They will also know that they can only serve one master. Further into the chapter there is a story we could all tell without the book. It is the story of the rich man and the poor man who has a name, Lazarus. What Jesus reveals is that awareness must be a quality of his disciples. It is about an awareness of others. Never listening to the prophets, that rich man found himself in unending misery. Never listening to Jesus, we can run the same risk. Disciples of Jesus hear the master’s words. Aware of His presence and his Gospel, they become aware of injustice.

Chapter 17 an interesting parable raises another virtue, Duty, and the parable tells the story of someone giving what is due, which is the meaning of the word, “duty.” The parable is a somewhat “back-door” way to remind disciples that they are servants. Fidelity to the duries of discipleship provides no grounds for feeling superior, and it should not bring ideas of honor or appreciation. In discipleship there is no “look what I have don” attitude. In fact, there is no time for that because there is always more to do. When the apostles cry: “Increase our faith” which begins this section, they are aware of the great task that lies ahead and what Jesus asks of them. What we learn in this section is that it is not the quantity or extent of a person’s faith that is at issue. It is not a matter of ore faith, but a life consistent with the faith we already have.

As an example of how Luke’s work is not factual history, in this chapter, he has Jesus headed to Jerusalem through the region between Samaria and Galilee. That would be like going to Miami through Tallahassee. None the less, along the way, Jesus gets to another profoundly important virtue for disciples: Gratitude. In Luke’s thought the grateful recognition of God’s initiative that brings healing and salvation is the surest sign of faith. Gratefulness confirms one’s faith. Disciples recognize what God has done for them. It’s the story of the 10 lepers that unfolds this virtue. Disciples return again and again to the feet of the master speaking his praises. This is not a passing emotion, but a way of life. It is not private either. It is public, and real gratitude is contagious. 

In the 18th Chapter Luke pulls a switch with another parable about a nagging woman who comes before a judge. Probably when Jesus used this parable, it was, like all his parables, about God his Father. In which case, the focus of the story was the judge, and the listener would be drawn into a reflection upon the surprising figure who is moved by this persistent widow to provide the justice for which she pleads. When Luke tells the story, it is not so clearly about the judge. The widow emerges as the story’s focus. She is the focus not because she is a widow, not because she is alone, not because she is an uneducated outcast without a name, wealth, land, or power. She emerges because, unlike others of her kind, she is persistent, constant, steady, and unbending in the face of any obstacle. Her strength of persistent prayer is the virtue that must be found in a disciple. In this chapter another parable is told that we know very well about two men who go to the Temple to pray. With that parable disciples are brought to recognize that they are justified. However, this is not because of what they say or what they do, who they know or where they are, but that they are justified by God. In the parable, there is nothing wrong with the prayer of either man. They are both reciting psalms: the Pharisee is using Psalm 15 and the Tax Collector is using Psalm 34. The problem is not the prayer, the problems is the focus. All the Pharisee can do is recite what he has done. His prayer is all about him. What the tax Collector does is make God the center of his prayer. One has no room for God because he so filled with his own accomplishments. The other acknowledges God as the source and ground of his life and hope. He is justified, not the other one. Disciples of Jesus are justified, not because God owes them something but because the stood in truth before God and acknowledged their need and how useless their own deed are to save them.

In the new order Jesus came to inaugurate, it is an era of salvation and justification experienced as a gift, not as a right. In such disciples then, righteousness is never about self, but always about the God who saves with mercy, forgiveness and love.

Chapter 19 begins with these words: “He entered Jericho and was passing through it.” He is now near Jerusalem, and before the chapter ends, he enters the city and with that his Passion, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension are about to take place. Armed with the virtues he has presented along the way, disciples, his church, will be ready to move forward without him because of him by the power of the Holy Spirit as the second part of Luke’s work, Acts of the Apostles will reveal.

In Part Three the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus will be the focus.

There is some hesitation on my part as we begin exploring Luke’s Gospel which will be our guide through this Liturgical year until December of 2022. The hesitation comes with this first part of what will be three talks on Luke’s Gospel. About 100 years ago, I got in a lot of trouble for telling my little sister that there was no Santa Clause. I felt it my duty to tell her because I had just come to realize that the Santa sitting in our living room was one of my aunts. Her perfume was the giveaway. As the family story goes, one of my uncles was supposed to take on the annual role which was passed around from year to year among the four brothers. That uncle got drunk, and failed to show up. My aunt, in her usual “take charge” mode promptly ran to the garage and put on the outfit and came to the door. My hesitation comes from the fact that tonight and maybe in the following talks, I’m going to upset some long-held beliefs, some treasured images, and who knows what else.

So, let’s get into what we know and admit what we don’t know adding the truth that sometimes when we don’t know something, we make stuff to cover that lack of knowledge. There is a set of questions that ought to guide us whenever we begin to explore something: Who, When, What, Where, and How.

So, who wrote this Gospel? Luke is the name used consistently from the second century. He was a companion of Paul, a native of Antioch in Syria. That information comes from the Epistle of Paul to the Colossians and the Epistle to Timothy. There is no contrary information anywhere, so we can let that be. He was not an apostle or an eye-witness. He simply suddenly appears at Paul’s side during Paul’s second Mission. We can say that, because in Luke’s second part which we call “Acts of the Apostles” chapter 16, he suddenly switches to the first-person plural. He says, “We.”

When: The years 80 to 85 are generally accepted as the time. However, from the fact that Luke’s writing stops while Paul is still in custody around the year 63 and the fall of Jerusalem in about 70 would push it a little earlier. Here is an example of contrary data that leaves us to simply say: “We don’t really know exactly.”

It is fairly certain that Luke had at hand a copy of Mark’s account. Sixty-percent of Mark is incorporated into Luke. Probably another collection of quotations from Jesus was probably available to him and these would have been written in Aramaic. There were certainly some oral sources available from John, the deacon Philip, and Mary.

Luke’s Gospel, when it comes to literature is a masterpiece. He is very observant of mannerisms, psychological reactions, and hidden motivations. He favors minorities, segregated groups, and the underprivileged. Watch how often Samaritan, lepers, publicans, soldiers, public sinners, ignorant shepherds and poor show up. All of these people get special encouragement from this Gospel. He is writing for Gentiles. We know that because of the way he omits Semitic words and finds substitutes for them. For instance, he explains in his Gospel the meaning of “Abba”, “Rabbit”, “Ephphata”. He seldom quotes the Old Testament. This Gospel was written in Greek. It was good Greek, not easy street language. Luke is educated, and he writes to people who speak good Greek.

Finally, before we dig into the Infancy Narrative, you must keep in mind this is not History. It is theology. They are not the same. Luke makes no claim to have been an eyewitness. He tells us that he is giving us a well-ordered narrative so that we may know the truth. He says he is writing to Theophilus. He calls him “excellent”. That adjective/title was reserved for Roman Procurators. It was also a very common name, so there is no point in making a lot out of it.

At the time of Luke, there were two problems or “crises” that may have prompted his writing. 

The first was the Gentiles, and with that came concepts or ideas about God.  The whole Mediterranean world was very parochial, and there were as many ideas about God as there were communities, and with that then, there were different cults. That’s hard for us to understand, but it was a great challenge at the time. Rome made it even more difficult with Emperor Worship. As Rome spread across the region, the parochialism was overcome. With this came an overwhelming sense loyalty and security that drove people to side with the powerful. If you understand that world, then you can see why the message of humility and the ideas expressed in Mary’s Magnificat are seen as a revolutionary threat.

The themes of Greek plays at the time would have thought humility to be silly. The nobility of persons was the theme of their plays captivating theatergoers. Meanwhile the Christian community expected the world to believe the story of a man who died the death of a rebellious slave.

The second crises was over the Jews. The descendants of Abraham even earned the respect of Rome as it recognized that the history of these chosen people made it clear that no power could shake their fidelity to the law of their fathers. This people, reared with a profound respect for the law, their traditions, the experts would find shocking the stories of Jesus who flaunted the accepted ways and seemed so arrogant toward his religious superiors. He seemed to be encouraging social, economic, and religious sedition.

The construction of Luke’s Gospel suggests that originally the Gospel began with Chapter 3, and the Infancy Narrative was added after Acts of the Apostles was finished. The presence of the genealogy in the third chapter is hint of this possibility. Listen how it begins and see if you don’t think is the beginning. “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea and Herod was ruler of Galilee and Philip his brother ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

In Acts of the Apostles, Chapters 1 & 2 serve as a transition from Jesus to Church with the Apostles as the figures. In the Gospel, Chapter 1 & 2 serve as a transition from Israel to Jesus with the characters as the figures. There may be three sources:

  1. A source for hymns: 
    1. The Magnificat
    1. The Benedictus
    1. The Gloria
    1. The Nunc Dimits
  2. A source for parts of Chapter 2 which could stand alone
  3. A source for John the Baptist and the Jesus stories of Chapter 1

Think for a minute how Luke organizes Chapters 1 & 2. There are seven episodes.

  1. Annuniation of John the Baptist
  2. Annunciation of Jesus
  3. Visitation
  4. Birth and Circumcision of John
  5. Birth and Circumcision of Jesus
  6. Presentation in the Temple
  7. Finding in the Temple

There are obviously two parallels 1 & 2 and 3 & 4. The hymns fit in, but may have been added later. Episode 7 serves as a transition or story/passage.

I cannot emphasize this enough. 

The Infancy Narrative is a Dramatization of Theology. It is NOT history!

It all begins with a self-contained story of a Divinely prepared conception of John the Baptist. It is so similar to the one that follow that it cannot be an accident.

With the annunciation of the Baptist’s birth we get four pieces of information:

  1. It is during the time of Herod the Great
  2. The names of the Parents are Zechariah and Elizabeth
  3. They and he were of Priestly descent (Tribe)
  4. They were old and Elizabeth was without child

Luke probably did not invent the first item because it also is supported by Matthew

The second and third items are more difficult. These are probably pieces of tradition that came to Luke perhaps from the Jerusalem community or from former followers of John who came over to the Church. With the fourth item, it is more likely that Luke is trying to establish a connection with the Old Testament rather than writing intimate family history, because there is a parallel between the parents of Samuel and John.

Now, let’s examine the Annunciation.

Gabriel shows up. The only other time in the Bible that we hear of Gabriel is in the eighth chapter of the Book of Daniel. In verse 15 Gabriel is sent to explain a vision Daniel has just had, and Gabriel scares him so much that he fell to the ground. The Book or Prophecy of Daniel proclaims the coming of everlasting justice – the final time.

In the Annunciation scene there are five steps:

  1. The appearance
  2. The fear
  3. The message
  4. The objection
  5. The giving of a sign

As the story goes, Zechariah should have come to the steps to give a blessing, but he cannot. In Luke’s drama, the blessing that cannot be given at the beginning is given at the end of the Gospel when Jesus ass Jesus led his disciples out to Bethany, lifted his hand over them, and blessed them. Watch how often Luke marks the end of a scene with a departure.

There is a struggle in Luke to fit John the Baptist into the schema of salvation history as part of the process of Christian self-understanding and to persuade unconverted disciple of John.

Annunciations have eight components

  1. The visionary is addressed by name
  2. A qualifying phrase describing the visionary
  3. The visionary is urged not to be afraid
  4. A woman is with child or about to be with child
  5. She will give birth to the (male) child
  6. The name by which the child is to be called
  7. There is an interpretation of the name
  8. The future accomplishments of the child.

Luke follows this patter with one exception, the name of Jesus is not explained.

The whole concept of a Virgin Birth is unheard of in the Old Testament. So, when it springs up in the Gospel, it is an entirely new idea that brings with it the sense of a “New Creation”. This is the introduction of the message and identity of Jesus as God’s Son.

The angel’s words are a free interpretation of II Samuel 7 and give the child the character of a Messiah from David’s line. 

Remember what I said about departures being a way to end of scene. So, with the Visitation story, the scene of the Annunciation is complete. The Visitation itself is a bridge passage that brings together two characters of this drama: John and Jesus. As I said earlier, the addition of the hymn (Magnificat) was probably a later addition. We don’t know where they came from, but they have very deep Old Testament roots, and probably were hymns sung by the early Jewish/Christians.

Then we get two birth stories. One is of lesser importance than the other obviously by the details. John’s birth only takes two verses. In Chapter 3 Luke describes the whole career of John including his imprisonment by Herod before he narrates how John Baptized Jesus. Do you see something odd here? The Baptism of Jesus had to have happened before John was imprisoned. Again – no history here, so do not expect things to “add up”. This is Luke’s way of shifting all the focus onto Jesus.  Another example is that Luke describes the growth of John into manhood before he describes the birth of Jesus which, if this was history, should have taken place only a few month later. Again, a shift of attention.

Now, that Census. It is probably the result of a confused memory of the events that brought about two Herodian reigns and the consequent political trouble around the time of Jesus’ birth. The census itself seems to be a way of explaining the presence of Joseph and Mary in Bethlehem. This is a literary device that provides a solemn beginning. It is ironical that the Roman Emperor, the mightiest figure in the world, is serving God’s plan by issuing an edict for the census of the whole world.

Augustus is the peaceful ruler, the one who pacified the world. Greek cities of Asia Minor (perhaps not far from where Luke was writing) adopted September 23, the birthday of Augustus as the first day of a new year, calling him a “savior.” It is hardly accidental that Luke’s description of the birth of Jesus presents a challenge to this imperial propaganda. 

The birth, Swaddling & a Manger. Luke is more interested in the details than in the birth itself. Swaddling and manger are more important any anything else if you just look at the information. The manger has nothing to do with poverty, but an odd location caused by circumstances.

There is a reversal going on here. In the first chapter of Isaiah it says: “The ox knows its owner, and the donkey knows the manger of its lord; but Israel has not known me. My people have not understood me.”Luke is saying that this is repealed. The shepherds have been sent to the manger to find the Lord who is the source of joy for all people of Israel.

Like the manger, the swaddling is far from a sign of poverty. It is a sign that Israel’s Messiah is not an outcast among his people but is properly cared for. In Luke, Jesus is not born like an alien in an Inn, but in a manger where God sustains and feeds his people. This is Theology. The details lead us deep into the mystery of what God is doing.

The Annunciation to the Shepherds. There is nothing sentimental intended here nor any effort on Luke’s part to identify with the common man.

This episode is tied to the Jewish idea that is much more deeply involved. It is drawing heavily from images in the Prophet Micah which anticipates and for-sees the triumph of Jerusalem by a ruler from David’s place of origin. Remember what David was? This detail ties in with a King descended from a shepherd image: David the King.

This Annunciation follows the pattern for the most part.

The core message is written in the style of an Imperial Proclamation. I like to think that this is Luke’s counter-propaganda that Jesus, not Augustus was the Savior and source of peace whose birthday marked the beginning of new time. Probably however, Isaiah 9: 5 seems to be the source: “For the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. For a child has been born for us, a son given us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Then Luke gives us the final hymn: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among those whom he favors”. Like the other hymns, added later, it was probably composed by a community of Jewish Christians using the same kind of poetry. It is used to hail Jesus as the Messiah at the end of his ministry, something the angles knew at the beginning of his life. Luke is telling us that the angels of heaven recognized at the beginning of life for Jesus what the disciples came to know only at the end; namely, the presence of the Messiah King comes in the name of the Lord. 

And then, after their visit, Luke says: “The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen as it had been told them.” With that, they depart, and what does a departure mean in Luke? End of the scene.

Luke was a pastor and he wrote to comfort, encourage, and renew a community that was stumbling, disconnected from its roots and facing new challenges. The purpose was not so much to speak new things, but to present old things in a new way, old things which the readers knew from the very sources and traditions Luke used in his work. He chose a familiar form, “narrative.” This form is to literature what story telling is to the spoken word. It communicates in such a way that the readers enter the story and discover that it is their own. He is a master at this, and he uses details told as if they were absolutely unique in order to engage the imagination. The narrator is important because he always knows more than the people in the story, and he shares some of this information with the readers. The readers are privileged participants in the story. So, they know how a situation that is a problem for the characters in the story will be resolved but not how it will be resolved for them. Gifted with knowledge, the readers little by little learn how the characters in the story arrive at the knowledge which they already have but what that truth really means.

The whole thing is an invitation to keep these things in our hearts, to wonder at them as their meaning is gradually unfold in the story.

So, what do learn from Luke in this season? 

Jesus is human, born of a woman. Jesus is Divine, born of God. Luke is concerned to put both of these issues together. Born of God, Jesus would return to God, and Christians must accept the end of his live and his consequent absence from history as an individual figure. The Narrative is like a painting with two panels:

The first has Zachariah and Elizabeth. We are like them. We believe yet we doubt, and what does God do? The promise of biblical history in the prophets is fulfilled in spite of us, the barren past become fruitful.

In the second panel the scene shifts from Jerusalem (Temple and Zachariah) to Nazareth. Luke is concerned to show that the origins of Jesus are much more significant than those of John. Nazareth is a no-place. Jerusalem is power.

The role of Zachariah and Mary are parallel, but it is Mary, not Joseph who names, who receives a message and brings things to pass. John’s birth is about overcoming the inability to conceive. The birth of Jesus introduces a whole new order and we are pulled into the realm of creation by the working of the Spirit which is a powerful theme in Luke’s Gospel as we will see in the next talks.

The visitation story invites us to see the New Testament, Mary reaching out and transforming the Old Testament, Elizabeth.

Joseph and Mary lived in Nazareth of Galilee. This is clearly held by Christian tradition without contest. At the same time, a clear theological tradition held that Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Matthew handled it one way, by beginning at Bethlehem. Luke another way by beginning in Nazareth. Luke had a problem of getting them to Bethlehem. The whole issues of showing the Church and Jesus as being just and legitimate when it comes to Roman Law begins here and is a concern all through Luke.

It’s all a journey, a long pilgrimage to Jerusalem in Luke’s Gospel just as it is for us. As we conclude this, remember the story of Jesus being lost for three days only to be found again. It’s all part of Luke’s plan. The loss of Jesus creates confusion and consternation and Jesus explains the divine necessity which called for his absence; the Father’s business. He must be with the Father. This is his ultimate destiny, and we, the church through him, and with him, and in him are on the same journey to the New Jerusalem.

28 November 2021

Jeremiah 33, 14-16 + Psalm 25 + 1 Thessalonians 3, 12-4,2 + Luke 21, 25-28, 34-36 

We ponder the Word of God today as the world begins to bring 2021 to a close. The last month is about to begin. Yet most endings are really the beginning of something new. So, as the world closes a year, the Church begins a new year with the Gospel of Luke which will be our guide in the coming months. Like all of us, Jesus had his ideas about what was important. A farmer once ran an ad that said: “Wanted: young woman who owns tractor. Send photo…..of tractor.” He had his idea about was important too. Jesus highlighted a few points he thought was important for us to remember. For one thing, the timing of the end is unpredictable. For another, the second coming will in due time be known by the whole universe. That whole business of the coming of the “Son of Man” and clouds is a link to the Transfiguration and his Ascension as Luke describes those events. They involve clouds something significant to those people because of their familiarity with the story of Moses and that cloud that led the people through the desert days. Finally, Jesus insists that it is important to be alert, vigilant, and pray. 

What the Lord proposes to us is simply what might best be called, “An Advent Way of Life.” What that looks like is not complicated, but it is challenging. The challenge comes from this world filled with cruel violence, sexual corruption, hedonism, and a godlessness that drives injustice and rewards selfishness. It is the same world that St Luke faced living in the Roman Empire that was so decadent and corrupt. For the church, the faithful of his time, he wrote the Gospel we treasure so filled with hope, dreams, and promises.  In just a few weeks we will be telling the stories of those dreams that guided Joseph, Zachariah, Elizabeth and Mary. These are the promises that still give us hope on days when the end of the world seems to come with the death of a child, a broken marriage, the loss of a life-time partner, or yet another tragic shooting or an act of terrorism that shake our world. Living with hope is a challenge.

But it is not complicated, and St Paul in the oldest Christian document we possess, writes with gentle tenderness to the Thessalonians. He believed the end to be near, and like anyone who believes that it is so, he expresses his emotions, telling them how much they mean to him. It is a touching and personal example of an “Advent Way of Life.” It is a life style focused on the things that matter most. It is a way of living each day as if it were the last not fearful or anxious, but grateful, hopeful and confident that the promise of God’s love will be fulfilled. It is a way of living that is focused on what is good and just. It is a life filled with memories of good times, joyful and promising. It is a life sustained by people who do good things who far outnumber those who do bad things.

That Advent Way of Life takes no one for granted. While there may be times of anxiety, the times of anticipation and excitement are far more treasured. Watching for Jesus is as simple and as real as watching for someone you love to come home, never forgetting to tell them how much they mean to us.

In the Advent Way of Life, we forget what we’ve done for other people and remember what other people have done for us. We ignore what the world owes us and think of what we owe the world. In the Advent Way of life, no one is ever shouting about their rights, but working to fulfill their duty finding ways to do a little more. They look behind the faces of other human beings into their hearts, hungry for joy admitting that probably the only good reason for our existence is not what we’re going to get out of life, but what we going to give to life. It seems to me that this is the only way to stand erect and raise our heads before the Son of Man.

November 21, 2021 at St. William and St. Peter the Apostle Parishes in Naples, FL

Daniel 7, 13-14 + Psalm 93 + Revelation 1, 5-8 + John 18, 33-37

We have to be really careful with this feast and the image it promotes. The reputation of Kings through history is not too great, and nothing to be longed for. The kingship model was understandable to ancient communities. Royal images are common in the Scriptures, but they are not without problems. They can be easily misunderstood and mocked as when Pilate asked Jesus if he is king of the Jews. Comparing our relationship to God as that of subjects to a ruler can be a problem. While kingship can promote ideas of strength, longevity and authority, in reality it has often brought abuses of power, servitude, or slavery. In the end, what we have put before us today is the imagination of ancient communities. As we inherit this image, we might also inherit the struggle, the wish, and need to find a way to express our image of God.

As we now conclude this liturgical year in our church tradition and set aside the Gospel of Mark which we have proclaimed since last Advent, it might be profitable to review what image Mark has given us for Jesus. If you think about it, the image is anything but regal. Half of the Gospel is an effort on the part of Jesus to get his followers to understand that he is not going to establish a Royal and powerful reign that will crush the Romans and restore Israel to some former kind of earthly glory. He is going to be a suffering servant, obedient to the will of his father. The citizens of his kingdom will not be a privileged few who presume some claim on his favor or vie for positions of honor to his right or left.

If we have heard and internalized anything at all from Mark’s Gospel this past year, it is the realization that in his realm there will be found a rag-tag, sometimes confused and sometimes doubtful bunch of misfits who sometimes talk big and then act small. They will be blind but yet cry out, “Lord, Have Mercy.” They will be deaf, sometimes act as if they were possessed by evil, and they will be not-so loyal friends who sometimes can’t be found at the moment of greatest need. Yet they are the ones who have the fish and bread and are told to feed the hungry. They are the in the boat. The fish all night long and get nothing until he tells them where to cast their nets.

Remember in Mark’s Gospel there are no singing angels, adoring shepherds, and no visitors from afar with strange royal gifts. There is no gentle virgin and humble silent carpenter. There is just a wild man from the desert who picks him out of the crowd, and with an image of the sacrificed Passover Lamb recognizes him and directs our attention to the Lamb of God. Chapter after chapter, he rejects and runs from crowds who want to make him their “King.” He has only one crown in mind, and when it comes, they won’t be cheering they will be jeering. 

It’s time now to end this year of grace, and turn to the east. It is time to look for what we have been promised, not a King, but a Savior. Not a place of privilege and ease, but a place among the humble with the sick, the broken, the abandoned, and those cast off in a world still too deaf to the Good News of the Gospel and too blind to see the glory of God in the face of a Christ, the anointed one who lives with us in the poor, the homeless, refugees, the sick, the gay, the black, brown, yellow, and white people who still wait and long for a time of forgiveness asked and forgiveness given, for a time of peace, of joy, and hope. That is what our Advent next week puts before us, a time of now but not yet. It is a time to look dimly into the light of dawn and see what is yet to come, who will come again, what he will look for in us and how he will judge what we have done with what we have been given.

Traditions suggest that Mark near the end of his life was a companion of Peter in Rome during a time of terrible persecution. If so, the source for his Gospel is Peter, a betrayer and not-too dependent friend, yet one who walked on water when called to do so. It is a Gospel for our times, and it is Good News for people like us who can find ourselves in every story of the Gospel. Let us pray today that we shall also find ourselves hard at work for the sake of the one comes when he comes probably not on a golden cloud, but once again on a donkey to gather us all around the eucharistic table and feed us once more on bread of life that lasts forever.

November 14, 2021 at St. Peter the Apostle Parish in Naples, FL

Daniel 12, 1-3 + Psalm 16 + Hebrews 10, 11-14 + Mark 13, 24-32

Before we open our hearts to this message and revelation of this Gospel, we need to open our minds to the images the Jesus of Mark’s Gospel is using in order to understand what is being revealed. When Mark is writing this Gospel quoting Jesus, he either knows that the Romans have destroyed the Temple or that the army of Vespasian and his son Titus is at the gates. One of the main concerns for Mark is the warning of believers in Christ that everyone who claims to be Jesus or claims to be his follower should not be believed. There may be wars and rumors of war, but Mark wants believers to understand that this is not the time of the coming of Jesus in glory. All of that stuff, earthquakes, famines, conflicts have been seen many times, and they have nothing to do with the coming of Christ in glory. All that talk about chaos in the heavens refers to the collapse of earthly kingdoms and the end of religions that thought of the sun and the stars as gods. What Mark and the other Evangelists do with this kind of thinking is warn against speculation about when and how Christ will come again. We have all heard television preachers who peddle projected dates who have not studied the scriptures they profess to interpret.

We ought to understand and remember that God is not portrayed as angry and vengeful in these verses. When bad things happen, it is the result of human behavior. If anything, what we discover is that God can work through the mess we can make to intervene with mercy during times of great suffering. At the same time, when we pick up this unusual style of literature called “apocalyptic” we might simply shrug it off as too complicated or too theatrical. That’s a bad plan. What we have here is neither of prediction nor a description. It is a proclamation and reassurance.

What we hear is that human history will not end without the universal human recognition of Jesus Christ as the Lord of all history. When and what it will look like we do not know. What comes through loud and clear is that no matter what, false messiahs, earthquakes, wars, or famine, followers of Jesus will be supported by the Holy Spirit, the Gospel will reach all nations, and in the meantime, there is a lot of housekeeping to be done. That part comes at the end of the speech about servants working until the master comes. 

What we take from this Gospel and what we take home from this celebration is not fear, but a glorious vision of hope. It speaks especially to those who have suffered from war and famine, to those who suffered the collapse of love, to those who face soon the certainty of death because no one is forgotten by God. Our lives can be formed by the kind of world we envision, and while we face a world to grieve over sometimes, there are times of joy and abundance, times of peace, and healing.  Our hope, resting on Christ, Jesus must shape our lives because of our faith.  If we hope for a future of justice and peace, we must read the signs of the times, so that this future may begin now.

November 7, 2021 at St. Peter and St. William Parishes in Naples, FL

1 Kings 17, 10-16 + Psalm 146 + Hebrews 9, 24-28 + Mark 12, 38-44

Instead of calling this the “Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time”, I think we should call it “The Sunday of the Two Widows.” There is no way get through this liturgy without them. A quick read of both stories could lead us to simply think that they are very much alike, helpless, poor, but generous. In reality, they are way more than helpless, poor, but generous. That widow of Zarephath was nothing like the widow in Mark’s Gospel. The first one offered what she had to a person in need. The second one was duped by slick pretenders who know how to bilk the innocent which is what Jesus points out by scolding the leaders of the people who run the Temple. It’s a racket still going on today when we pick up a news story about someone who bilks innocent, naïve people out of money for work they never start or finish.

Elijah is not like that. As the story goes, he was a refugee fleeing both a draught and political danger. At first it might seem odd that he would ask someone as helpless as he was. But, Elijah is a prophet in touch with God, and he holds firmly to his faith in the providence of God while the religious leaders at the time of Jesus are in touch with nothing but their own greed and ambition. Elijah and that widow from Zarephath do not even share the same religion! However, she understood that human beings are made for one another and that even hunger is easier to bear when shared. What she discovers is that by sharing with another in need, they both survive.

Lest we get all impressed by the action of the second widow, we might wonder a bit more about how and why Mark describes her as he does, and what he remembers Jesus said about her.  She is not being held up as an example of charity. She is an image of Jesus himself. Like him, she gives her all whether or not it is appreciated or even noticed by those in power or those who matter. I think Jesus points her out suggesting to the disciples that God operates with a different set of values than those leaders of the people. What matters is faith, trust, and human solidarity.

In telling these stories today we might ask ourselves whose interest motivates us. We might take a second look at how our generosity really works and whether we are just giving out of our surplus, because we all have a surplus. Or, have we ever really understood and identified with people who are desperate and in need. I read recently that the poor are the most generous when it comes to responding to needs because they’ve been there or are still there having discovered that by sharing with another in need, they both survive.

We might also think more deeply about that widow in Zarephath who pays no attention at all to the fact that Elijah is a foreigner, a refugee, and even of a different religion. What matters is that he is a human being, vulnerable, frightened, and alone. So is she. When they both recognize their frailty, vulnerability, desperation, and fears, they do more than survive together, their solidarity is an unmistakable sign of how we can experience and draw them near to the reign of God. 

November 1, 2021 at St. Peter and St. William Parishes in Naples, FL

Revelations 7, 2-4, 9-14 + Psalm 24 + 1 John 3, 1-3 + Matthew 5, 1-12

Halloween has nearly eclipsed All Saints Day. The secular world seems to think that Halloween is what it’s all about. Rather than being the night to prepare for a celebration, it has become the celebration. Instead of being about life, it’s turned into a spooky time with goblins and skeletons. But we are in this church because we know the difference. We know that Christ conquered the powers of darkness and those who really believe can use Halloween to mock fear and death with laughter and fun. Confidence in Christ makes Halloween a light-hearted time.

Children are the chief celebrants of Halloween, and for some of us there is an inner child that can still have fun. The whole business of dressing up with scary masks and going around to spooky places with spider webs, ghosts, and skeletons is a delightful joke through which we can discover that this world is really comedy act in which terrible things get defeated. It’s a great therapy for fear. Those of us past childhood would do well to imitate the willingness of children to venture forth into the unknown, take risks, and return home not only safe but triumphant.

Children seem to know that if you’re afraid of something, the best thing to do is to dress yourself and your friends — maybe even your little brother — as the thing you’re afraid of, so that you can see it in familiar flesh and confront it and deal with it and prove to yourself that it can’t really hurt you. They know that pretending that something isn’t real won’t work if it is real. There are monsters under the bed. So, the Halloween wisdom of children comes down to this: There are monsters under the bed, but we can face our fears, and by grace and struggle be set free from them. 

This feast of All Saints’, with music, prayers, beautiful vestments, and everything else is the sunny side of Halloween. Today is joy. Last night was comedy. The saints we honor this day, a vast, innumerable crowd, are graduates of the school of grace and struggle in which trick-or-treaters have just enrolled. The saints are those wise enough to face their fears and accept the help of God as naturally as a small child walking in the dark accepts a parent’s hand.

The saints are those who accept the adventure of a risk, and one that’s sane and healthy too, even if their contemporaries can’t figure them out. These saints know the great therapy for fear. They take God seriously, at his word, while everything else, everyone else, including themselves, they regard not seriously, but lightly. Saints are people who aren’t afraid to live with both the gruesome and the glorious. They are not embarrassed to struggle with the great division between good and evil, life and death, heaven and hell. They are called forth into the unknown as into a dark night, they venture forth, enter spooky places, and return home not only safe but triumphant.

Did you know that Ignatius Loyola told his seminarians to laugh and grow stronger. Saint Philip Neri performed ridiculous dances in the presence of cardinals and wore his clothes inside out. Teresa of Avila taught her Nuns to dance on holy days and gave them castanets.

At Halloween children recognize that beyond the very real struggle, there is a world of delight free from fear’s control. That world is where the saints are found, both saints in heaven and saints on earth. Maybe you have known some. Maybe you know some now. Maybe you are one of these saints dwelling, part of the time at least, in a world of delight. Today is the feast of All Saints. We remember those who have gone before, and pray that we may follow after. Trick-or-treaters venturing forth on Halloween night provide us with a map for the journey, one drawn in the bright colors of childhood trust, courage, and fun. The saints massed in their glorious ranks are a promise of our happy return home, with hearts glad and eyes open to the wonder of God.

October 31, 2021 at St. William Catholic Church in Naples, FL

Deuteronomy 6, 2-6 + Psalm 18 + Hebrews 7, 23-28 + Mark 12, 28-34

After countless unpleasant arguments and trick questions in an effort to trap Jesus, this is a rare and pleasant moment. The two agree with another. The scribe is “not far from the kingdom of God” Jesus says, but something is lacking. Why is he so close, but not quite there? For Mark in this Gospel, what is missing is the following of Jesus on the way and all the way to the cross. What’s missing, in other words, is commitment to discipleship. The kingdom of God is not agreeing on the right answers, important as the search for truth is. It is a relationship, a commitment, an identity that makes him part of the group, the family of faith which becomes the church.

The common thread that runs through the response of Jesus, is love: love of God, love of neighbor, and love of self. Our understanding of this text and its message depends on our understanding of the word, love. Our English language is impoverished when it comes to this word. It can mean way too many things. Even the Greek language which was somewhat primitive had three words for love depending on what kind of love was being expressed. We use the word to describe all sorts of things from a tennis score, to express our taste in food, to the most sublime affection and bonding. The problem rests upon the fact that this world of ours equates love with feelings. That is not what Jesus and the Scribe are talking about. Our western world individualism only compounds the challenge to understand what Jesus and the Scribe are talking about.

In their group-centered Mediterranean world, affection, emotion, and feeling had nothing to do with it. That’s internal stuff. “Love” as they are speaking is about something external, an attachment to one’s group or attachment to a person in the group. It is “kinship”. It is the village or the clan or the tribe that one joined at some point in life that mattered most of all, and that membership is what provided one’s very identity. So, to love God means to become attached to God exclusively. There is no other God, and it means attaching oneself to the group that clusters itself distinctly around this God.

To love one’s neighbor as oneself means to become exclusively attached to the people in one’s own neighborhood or village as if they were family. That same idea is what is behind that statement in Luke’s Gospel when Jesus says: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sister, yes and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” Jesus is not suggesting a negative emotion toward one’s blood relatives. What he asks is detachment from that kinship group for the sake of the Kingdom and joining the Jesus movement. This is not about emotions. It is about commitment.

The kind of group attachment in the world and time of Jesus is hard for us to attain in the Western culture. As precious a cultural value as it is, Western individualism is a huge obstacle to community. We are always thinking and talking about me. “I” is always the way we think. Forget about “We” or “Us”. That’s the problem with all this fussing about rights. It’s always about MY rights. Forget about how claiming or exercising my rights might affect the community or someone else, or maybe someone unborn. We join groups and remain members as long as the group meets our needs. When that fails, we drop out and join another group on similar terms.

With that in mind, we might begin to wonder how this encounter with the Scribe ends because in the text it is unresolved.  What is lacking we ought to wonder? While wondering, it would not hurt to wonder about ourselves. Are we there yet, or is there something lacking for us? The Scribe admires, understands, and praises Jesus, but that does not make him a Christian. He must follow Jesus which means giving everything one has. There is no dropping out when it doesn’t feel good or isn’t fun or entertaining. In the very next story of Mark’s Gospel we will learn from the story of a widow in the Temple what it takes. Come back next week. Don’t miss it.

October 24, 2021 This homily is posted here by not delivered in person as I am in Oklahoma City this weekend.

Jeremiah 31, 7-9 + Psalm 126 + Hebrews 5, 1-6 + Mark 10, 46-52

This is the final miracle of Mark’s Gospel, and the consequence is a profound act of faith. In front of the disciples and the crowd, Bartimaeus pronounced his creed.  This man, blind from birth, may not have sight, but he can see alright. He can see what those disciples have been blind to. He can see the “Son of David”, the shepherd King that prophets spoke of. He can see how to get free from everything that holds him back. He is not really the blind man. We are.

We have an odd way of using that word, “see.” We often use it to express understanding as when someone might say: “I see what you mean.” All four of the evangelists use sight as a way of expressing faith. Believing is the deepest kind of seeing. Our early church even called Baptism “Enlightenment”. We could learn something from Bartimaeus because our blindness.

The blindness most of us suffer from is not physical although it is sometimes selective. We don’t see homeless people with a cardboard sign at street intersections. If we do, we pretend we don’t We don’t see the homeless because most of us live in gated communities, and if they crowd around our boarders, we expect someone to do something about it like the crowd trying to silence Bartimaeus. However, Jesus sees, and Jesus calls the man to a new kind of sight that frees him from his past as he leaves that cloak behind. There is a tenderness and respect in the way Jesus speaks to this man that is far different from the way the crowd treats him. Even the disciples change their tone after the call of Jesus. They no longer want to silence him, but they encourage him and say, “Get, Jesus is calling you.” They may very well have taken him by the hand and led him to Jesus. 

There is something unique in this miracle story. In nearly every other cure, Jesus goes to the sick. Here however, Jesus simply stops, and he calls the man from a distance to come. Think for a moment how difficult that may have been. Bartimaeus was blind. He might have said: “Come and help me, I can’t find my way.” He didn’t do that. He got up, threw off his cloak and went to Jesus. He probably stumbled along the way and maybe even fell down all the while just guessing where Jesus was. That was enough. He got there. He was given his sight, and he kept on moving right along with Jesus says Mark.

As we proclaim this Gospel today, we must find out place in this Gospel story. As members of Christ’s body, we can call those who are blind searching for forgiveness or healing to come with us, and we can open their eyes to see the Lord within us. As members of the crowd, we can simply tell the needy to keep quiet and stay where they are. As Disciples, we can encourage those blind to faith, and we might well lead them to Jesus. Or, it may be that some of us are blind, but knowing that the Lord is near we keep calling out, “Lord, have mercy”, and one day get up with joy and follow the Lord straight to the Jerusalem of his glory.

October 17, 2021 This homily is posted but not delivered as I will be serving a Maronite Community this weekend.

Isaiah 53, 10-11 + Psalm 33 + Hebrews 4, 14-16 + Mark 10, 35-45

Whenever this incident is told in the proclamation of the Gospel, I am always struck by the contrast suggested to us by these two ambitious and self-serving disciples who want to be on the left and right of Jesus. Their denial and almost deliberate refusal to even imagine what Jesus has been saying to them is to their shame as we are left to wonder where they were and how it is that two criminals end up to the right and left of Jesus when he enters into the presence of the Father.

The whole incident springs out of a question that must have been running through their minds as they listened to Jesus speak three times of what was to become of him. It is not so much that they reject suffering because they do claim that they can and will drink the same cup the Jesus drinks. It is that they think they will get something out of it, and that’s the question running through their heads, and it is a question that still lurks in all our minds when there is a decision to be made. “What am I going to get out of it?”

To whatever extent that question runs through our minds at any time or with any decision, we know we are far from understanding what God asks of us. Charitable contributions measured as a tax deduction is perfect example. When something is given, it can’t be done to get thanks, recognition, or get something in return. That’s called a “bribe”. The consequence of letting this thinking influence or control brings a terrible result in any family, community, or church. We see it in the other disciples today: indignation. “They became indignant at James and John” says the text. That indignation is destructive of unity, destroys trust, and erodes respect. 

There is plenty of indignation going around in this world today. It is the consequence of corruption that leads to anger and violence, and that corruption is nothing more than a What am I going to get out of it mentality easily found in places of unrest where injustice is ignored and grows like a deadly cancer in the life of a society. What Jesus has revealed over and over again is that service and sacrifice must spring out of love, not ambition or expectation of some reward. We do not fast to lose weight. We do not fast to get a ticket to heaven. We fast to experience solidarity with the hungry of this world and remind ourselves that we are not self-sufficient. Parents who sit at the side of a sick child do not sit there with the hope that this child will get well and take care of them someday. They sit there and suffer because of love.

Jesus did not suffer death to get something for himself. He already had it all and left it behind because of the Father’s love. He suffered to show us obedience. He suffered because we suffer, and he did not want us to suffer alone. He speaks to us, a sometimes-indignant people who spend too much time looking at what others have, and invites us once more to serve not to be served, to love not be loved, and find our greatness in our care for one another.