Presentations

January of 2025 – Ordinary Time

Part 2 of 4: The Journey Narrative

We believe that all four Gospels have two major sources.

1)       An 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)       Then, 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. 

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 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. Tradition says he was a physician because he pays great attention to the medical matters that occur in the Gospel. The Good Samaritan story is an example of this as well as the comment about many physicians unable to cure the woman with a hemorrhage. As a sometime companion 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 Three later adding the Infancy Narrative as I said in the previous talk.

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 a genealogy and lists the ancestors of Jesus to affirm his humanity. Luke traces his genealogy back to Adam and God. Matthew traces his genealogy back to David and Abraham.

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 today. 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 his mission does 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.

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. 

From Chapter 3 till Chapter 6, incident by incident, Luke develops the hostility of the scribes and Pharisees. Conflict develops in that home cure, in the meal, and finally over the sabbath observance. 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. 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.”

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. 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. 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.

From the very beginning the status of Peter is affirmed. With that by way of introduction, Jesus calls the twelve (Chapter 9) and gives them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sends 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. Here is another example of Luke’s technique.

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: an 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, 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 to all the nations beginning 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 into 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.

At this point, 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 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, now in retirement, I can never 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. Someday I hope an artist will paint a new image of Pentecost. Instead of tongues of fire over the heads of the Apostles, I want to see light bulbs. I think that’s the way the Holy Spirit works: inspiration, new ideas.

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 comes 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 something 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 shares 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 keep 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 on fear, 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 from the system used in the ancient world 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 comes 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.

In 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 duties 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 done” 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 more 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 they stood in truth before God and acknowledged their need and how useless their own deeds are to save them.

The new order Jesus came to inaugurate 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.

November & December 2024 In Avent

Part 1 of 4: The Infancy Narrative

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 up 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? Except for John, the other three Gospels remain anonymous. This is quite different from the writing of Paul whose name appears throughout his writing. However, Luke is the name used consistently from the second century. He was a companion of Paul, and not an eyewitness. So, he is depending upon the testimony of others. He is a second-generation Christian, not a Palestinian but a native of Antioch in Syria. His knowledge of the geography and customs is faulty suggesting he did not live there. He was a some-time companion of Paul. That information comes from the Epistle of Paul to the Colossians and the Epistle to Timothy. 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 could 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 and these would have been written in Aramaic. There were certainly some oral sources available from John, the deacon Philip, and possibly from Mary herself.

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. Some may disagree with me on this, but Trump and his tribe would have a problem with this kind of “Diversity.” 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”, “Rabbi”, “Ephphata”. Luke omits all the controversies over the Law about what is clean and unclean. He seldom quotes the Old Testament. This Gospel was written in Greek, and it was good Greek, not easy street language. Luke is educated, and he writes to people who speak good Greek.

Finally, you must keep in mind all the way through. This is not History. It is theology. So, it is a distraction and silly to wonder or ask if something really happened. The question to ask is: “What does this mean?” and “What are we going to do or become because of it?” 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 their 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, 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, this 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. Themes of Greek plays at the time would have thought humility to be silly. The grand nobility of persons was the theme of their plays captivating theatergoers. They would have scoffed at the idea of humility proposed by these followers of Jesus Christ. Meanwhile, the Christian community expected the world to believe the story of a man who died the death of a rebellious slave. Rediculous!

The second crisis was over the Jews. The descendants of Abraham even earned the respect of Rome as Rome recognized that in the history of these chosen people 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. Jesus seemed to be encouraging social, economic, and religious sedition.

Originally, the Gospel began with Chapter 3. The Infancy Narrative was added after Acts of the Apostles was finished. The presence of the genealogy in the third chapter is a clue that suggests this. Listen how Chapter 3 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.

With the way it opens now, Luke has a formal prologue, a literary convention common among historians and other writers of his time. He is the only New Testament evangelist to do so. Matthew begins with a genealogy that stakes a claim for Jesus as the royal Davidic Messiah. Mark begins with a one-line heading that launches a tale told with thunder, John. Luke mentions his predecessors, alludes to his sources, touts his credentials as a longtime observer of events, acknowledges his patron, Theophilus and states his basic purpose in writing. We are in the hands of a confident author who invites us, gently, into his narrative world. 

In his address to Theophilus, he reveals that what has transpired – what he will narrate is the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel. He understands the events he will narrate in a biblical mode – in other words, what is to come is a biblical narrative held together by a progression of prophecies and fulfillments. He revers Jewish scriptures, makes use of quotations from it, and often writes in the style of the Septuagint. 

With the birth and infancy narratives we enter an enchanted world. It is replete with angels, heavenly signs, startling prophecies, unlikely pregnancies, improbable births, temple rituals, religious functionaries, pious laypeople, isolated shepherds, a child prodigy, and with it all an abundance of echoes from Israel’s Scriptures. It’s almost like Harry Potter when you start to think about it. This is the religious imagination at its best, an outpouring of legend and imagery fitting for a turning point in human history. It the momentous coming of a Savior who is Christ the Lord. 

Think for a minute how Luke organizes Chapters 1 & 2. There are seven episodes or scenes if you want to think in drama terms, and it is dramatic.

  1. Annunciation 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 4 & 5. Three hymns fill in the narration: The Canticle of Zechariah, The Magnificat, and The Gloria. Scholars believe that these were 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 the story of the conception of John the Baptist by Divine plan.

Now we get down to business with Zechariah. Luke tells us he is a good man married to a good woman. Yet, in spite of that they have no children, and in that time and culture, something is not quite right. God is about to intervene to make right what that culture believe is not right. So, Zechariah enters the Temple to perform the privileged and familiar duty of lighting an incense offering to God. An angel scares him with good news. What we see here is God confronting the highest of temple officialdom. Zechariah does not believe this good news, and Gabriel strikes him mute. There is no room or time for doubt. There is no blessing outside the Temple that day either. A world of religious devotion has been disrupted. There is also an important detail. Zechariah does not name his son, God has done that, and the same thing occurs with the second Annunciation story.

There is a struggle in Luke to fit John the Baptist into the schema of salvation and persuade unconverted disciples of John. You can sense that as the Gospel unfolds. With the birth of John, it is 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 as told in the Book of Samuel, and the parents of John. They are old. The career of John the Baptist caused problems for the early church. He was a prophet in his own right, founder of a Palestinian reform movement that would eventually find adherents as far away as modern Turkey. An inconvenient truth is that for a time Jesus of Nazareth was part of it. He was baptized by John. Luke will work hard through his gospel to make it clear that John was not superior to Jesus. Scholars believe that the legends of John’s birth originated in the circles of believers John attracted to himself. Luke incorporates this into his narrative. In this first story, Luke stirs imaginations. He paints a picture of a world of religious devotion about to be disrupted and enriched in ways no one could have foreseen He invites us to make it our own.

Right after the birth of John comes the second annunciation. Having entered this enchanted world through John the Baptist and his parents. Few scenes in all the Gospels rival the annunciation to Mary for its capacity to fire up the imagination. I think that is why so many artists have been and still do try to capture this moment on canvas. They are countless. The Louvre alone has 2,000 of them!

The second annunciation story is linked to the first in two ways: it is dated to the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, and it is constructed out of similar components, the appearance of the angel Gabriel, the perplexity he causes and the assurance not to fear, the announcement of an unlikely pregnancy, the divine naming of the child and the reference to a legitimating sign.

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. There, Gabriel is sent to explain a vision Daniel has, 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 Annunciations scene there are five steps:

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

The central figure is a young girl in a man’s world. Perhaps younger than 15, she is an impoverished girl with nothing of importance to say. Her question to the angel is much like the question of Zechariah. The main burden of this text is to establish Jesus as a Davidic Messiah and Son of God. The whole concept of a Virgin Birth is unheard of in the Old Testament. So, when it springs up in the Gospel two times, it is an entirely new idea that brings with it the sense of a “New Creation”. The language and the images are rich in symbolism. Being “overshadowed” reminds is all of the cloud in the desert that hid God but yet was a sign of God’s presence and action. This is the introduction of the message and identity of Jesus as God’s Son.

A departure is a literary technique or gimmick Luke uses to indicate a change of scene. Notice how often he has some one departs or go away as the scene changes. So, the Angel departs, and a new scene begins that is an otherwise unremarkable meeting of relatives that takes a dramatic turn when the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps at the sound of Mary’ voice. It is not the first time for such gymnastics to be recorded in the Bible. Twice in Genesis, Jacob and Esau do the same thing. It is a jump for Joy and it all happens because of the Holy Spirit. More than fifty times in Luke’s Gospel the action and consequences of the Holy Spirit will be recorded. So, with the Visitation story, the scene of the Annunciation is complete. The Visitation itself is a bridge passage that now brings together two characters of this drama: John and Jesus.

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 entire career of John including his imprisonment by Herod before he narrates how John Baptized Jesus. You might see something odd here. The Baptism of Jesus had to have happened before John was imprisoned. Again, there is 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, the census is Luke’s way of explaining the presence of Joseph and Mary in Bethlehem. Since it all began in Nazareth, he had to get them Bethlehem. There is no historical evidence of a census. It is a literary device that provides a solemn beginning. I find great irony is the way Luke uses the mightiest figure in the world, the Roman Emperor, to serve God’s plan by issuing this edict for a census. Caesar 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.” Luke’s description of the birth of Jesus is a direct challenge to this imperial propaganda. 

As I said earlier, Luke is interested in details. Swaddling and manger are more important any anything else if you just look at the information. That manger has nothing to do with poverty. It is simply 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.” Luke is saying that this is now 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 no 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.

When it comes the Annunciation to the Shepherds, there is nothing sentimental intended nor is there any effort on Luke’s part to identify with the common man as sometimes badly conceived homilies might want to suggest. This episode is tied to the Jewish idea that is much more deeply involved. It is draws 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 to Shepherds 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. 

After the Shepherd’s 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. There is Luke’s signal: End of scene.

Through all of this we see Luke the pastor writing to comfort, encourage, and renew a community that was stumbling, disconnected from its roots and facing new challenges. His 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. Gifted with knowledge, the readers little by little learn how the characters in the story arrive at the knowledge which they already have and 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 unfolding in the story. Remember, Luke is writing to people who have differing ideas about God in the midst of a Roman occupation as Rome has its own idea about God with a divine Emperor. Luke is going to straighten that out.

What do we learn so far?

Jesus is a human, born of a woman.

Jesus is Divine, born of God. 

Jesus would return to God, and Christians must accept the end of his life and his absence from history as an individual figure or person.

The Narrative is like a painting with two panels. In the first panel is set in Jerusalem with Zachariah and Elizabeth. Like them, we believe yet we doubt, and what does God do? God does not need our perfect belief to fulfill the promise of biblical history which reveals again and again that the barren past can become fruitful. In the second panel the scene shifts from Jerusalem to Nazareth. Luke is concerned to show that the origins of Jesus are much more significant than those of John the Baptist. Nazareth is a no-place. Jerusalem is power. There is a message here.

The role of Zachariah and Mary are parallel, but it is Mary the mother, not Joseph the father who gives a name, 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 chapter by chapter.

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, so he has a census. He uses this event for another reason too.  He wants to show that Jesus was being just, obedient, and legitimate when it comes to Roman Law. This 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 reflection on the Infancy Narrative, 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.

Part 3 of 4: The Passion Narrative

Lent 2025

There are two parts in this final section of Luke’s Gospel. The first part can be called, “The Ministry in Jerusalem”. The second is, “The Passion and Death of Christ”. Maybe, at some time in the future, God willing, we might study the Resurrection of Christ. But now it is Lent. Holy Week comes before we know it, and this Gospel is proclaimed at its opening on Palm Sunday.

The first of the two parts is the content of Chapter 19 as Jesus nears Jerusalem. The second part begins with Chapter 20, and it all takes place in the Temple area. This piece of Luke’s Gospel sets it apart from Matthew and Mark because of the central importance of Jerusalem and the Temple. The other Gospels do not focus on the Temple and Jerusalem as clearly as does Luke. Jerusalem has been the destination all along, and the disciples are to remain there until they receive the Holy Spirit. At the same time however, “Jerusalem” is not really a geographical location. The real destination for Jesus, and for that matter, for all of us, is God. That’s where he is going with this Journey. As a place, Jerusalem and the Temple are where God and humankind meet. 

We have no idea how long Jesus ministered in Jerusalem. The Church compressed this period into eight days, but there is every reason to believe that the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem was not for Passover, but more likely for the Feast of Tabernacles which occurs in the fall. That is the harvest feast. The whole business with Palm Branches in the other Gospels is a hint that this could be the Feast of Tabernacles when the Hebrew people cut branches to make “huts” out in the fields where they stayed during the harvest. So, the stay of Jesus in Jerusalem may have been much longer than the one week we have imagined. As a Church, we have, over time compressed all three Gospel accounts into one image of the event. If you are not careful, this can be a problem when reading Luke, because there is not one mention of palm branches. Luke shifts to Passover so that everything will fit together.

Chapter 19 begins with Jesus entering Jericho where he meets a short guy named, Zacchaeus who seems to be a good tree climber. This familiar story is full of important theological claims. The most important and obvious is that God incarnate dwells not with the pure and righteous but with tax collectors and sinners. In other words, with all outsiders. Meanwhile, the crowd grumbles. Just before entering Jerusalem, Jesus tells a parable about a nobleman who takes a long trip leaving a sum of money with three different servants to carry on business while he is away. Had we been there at the time, we would probably be nodding our heads with the crowd approving the caution of the third servant who took no risks. The focus of this parable is not the nobleman or “king.” He is not an image of Christ. The focus is the servants, and the story is told to address the fact that many were expecting the end of time or coming of the Kingdom to be very soon. Correcting that idea, the parable proposes that while we wait, we need to be working without fear with the message entrusted to us and not keep silent or think we need to hide in fear.

As Chapter 19 begins to close, we are on Mount Olivet near Bethany which is less than two miles east of the city. The whole role of the disciples is important to notice. They get a colt. They set Jesus on the colt. There is sense that the whole city came out as a crowd. Jesus is honored and praised by his followers. This is not a group who turns on him days later demanding his crucifixion. Luke’s version is less crowded and more subdued. It is of and for believers. There is not one mention of pam branches. Luke gives us some clues by which we may interpret this scene more clearly. 

1) This triumphal parade begins from the Mount of Olives, the place the prophet Zechariah (14:4) said God’s final intervention would begin. 

2) Jesus makes his way through an adoring crowd sitting on the back of a colt. It is a humble entrance in contrast to the arrival of powerful leaders on horses with trumpets blaring “Hail to the Chief.” 

3) Not even the poorest of the poor are held back. Anyone is welcome.

There is not one Hosanna in Luke’s Gospel. That word was used for parades with nationalistic overtones. None of that here. There is nothing said about David or his throne either. Luke seems to be carefully writing this so as to give Pilate nothing to use in accusation. The Temple is the place where things get focused now. Luke’s Gospel began with the Temple with Zechariah offering incense and angel’s announcement. At the end, the disciples are in the Temple. As Luke tells us in Acts, the Christians are attending the temple together every day. Luke seems to respect and perhaps admire the Temple, that may be why his description of Jesus cleansing it is simpler than the other Gospels. He purifies the Temple so that it can be the place of his own ministry. Jesus now claims this space for his teaching, and with that, opposition to him includes more than the scribes and Pharisees. Now the chief priests join in. He is in their space. 

As controversy heats up it might help to know who’s who. We keep hearing about the “Chief Priests, Scribes, Sadducees, Sanhedrin, Elders, and Pharisees. It’s important to sort them out. At the time of Jesus, two religious/political parties within Judaism were represented in the “Sanhedrin”. 

So, the Sanhedrin was a council with about 70 members who made up the religious court. It was composed of 

  1. High Priests past and present from the priestly families as well as Elders who were the tribal and family heads of the people, 
  2. Scribes who were the legal professionals. 

The majority of the Sanhedrin were Sadducees while the Pharisees were the minority. The difference between these two groups was religious not political or social. For instance, Caiaphas, the Sanhedrin priest we hear about here was religiously a Sadducee. But, most of the scribes were Pharisees. The presiding officer of this council was usually the high priest. The Sanhedrin was the highest court of appeal. Therefore, the Sanhedrin’s authority was broad and far-reaching, involving legislation, administration, and justice. They had religious, civil and criminal jurisdiction. 

At the time of Jesus, the council had lost to the Roman governor the power of capital punishment. They met every day except on Sabbath and feast days in rooms next to the Temple. In extraordinary cases, the council met at the house of the High Priest. One of the responsibilities of the Sanhedrin was the identification and confirmation of the Messiah. In fact, we read in the gospel that they sent a delegation to John the Baptist asking if he was the Messiah. There were about a dozen false Messiahs running around during the first part of this century deceiving the people making more important the responsibility of the Sanhedrin to sort it out. This is why Jesus eventually comes in contact with them.

The “Chief Priests” were drawn mainly from the ranks of the Sadducees the largest of the two groups. One of them was always the “High Priest”. We know that at the time of Jesus, Caiaphas was the High Priest. His father-in-law, Annas, was also called, “High Priest.” He was the real power behind the high priesthood. The Jews saw the High Priesthood as an office for life. The Romans did not, and they picked and chose High Priests from time to time, probably to keep the whole system from getting too powerful. Since he was still living, Annas was really the senior at the time which is why Jesus is first brought to Annas during his trial.

The Sadducees were really the “ruling class.” Today we would call them “Oligarchs.” They represented the aristocracy making peace quickly with the Romans to secure their privileges, wealth, and influence. They were educated, wealthy and held themselves aloof, with the result that they were not popular. Jesus was a threat to them and the status quo. Their functions were associated with the Temple and the cultic actions that took place there. They maintained the place. This gave them a great deal of authority. They collected taxes, mediated domestic disputes and regulated relations with the Romans. 

The Pharisees were associated with the Synagogue which made them more associated with the common people in contrast to the Sadducees who were associated with the Temple and it’s priests. They were considered to be the experts in the Jewish law. They interpreted the Torah liberally, and they believed in the resurrection of the dead in the future, the existence of angels and demons, all meaning they believed in an afterlife. This is contrary to the Sadducees. They were devout laymen, not priests. Their conflict with Jesus was over their hyper attention to the minutiae of the Law forgetting about the intention of the law. 

With that either made clear or further confused, Luke puts the action in the Temple where controversy really heats up. Authority is one of the hot spots in this controversy. Anything going on in the Temple is under the control of the Priests who are from the tribe of Levi. God appointed them as priests, and the Temple is their turf. Here’s the problem, Jesus is not a Levite, but he is teaching in the Temple as though it was a synagogue where the lay people are in charge. Those in charge confront him with three questions. The first is about his authority. “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” Luke then says: “They discussed it with one another, saying, if we say, From Heaven, he will say, “why did you not believe him? But if we say, “Of human origin, all the people will stone us; for they are convinced that John was a prophet. So, they answered that they did not know where it came from.” With this Divine authority is affirmed as more significant and authoritative than human authority. 

With that, Jesus tells the crowd a parable about the Wicked Tenants. It is a parable about these Priests and Scribes, but he tells it to the crowd in their presence, and they get the point. No doubt even more angry, they come at Jesus with a second question. This one is about Taxes, and you know the answer he gives: “Render to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” It is a complicated response, because it’s not always easy to separate the two then or now. The third and final question concerns the Resurrection of the Dead. They are not asking a theological question. Their purpose is to argue or embarrass Jesus or force him into one school of thought or the other. Is he a Sadducee or a Pharisee? It is a classic “what if” question. His response just further angers them. He quotes Exodus 3:6 for believing in the resurrection of the dead. His response ends up dividing his opposition because some of the scribes approve of his answer and begin to speak highly of him. 

As Chapter 21 begins, there is one final jab at the Scribes as Jesus observes a poor widow offering the last that she has in observance of the law commanding contributions to the support of the Temple. Toward the end of this chapter, Luke begins to write in a different style of Literature called, “apocalyptic.” As a kind of literature, it deals with a revelation or a series of revelations usually by an angel disclosing a supernatural world beyond the world of historical events. The focus is on the end of the world as we now experience it and the beginning of a new world. Here, Luke joins historical events to descripe of what is going on behind and beyond history. In this literature style, major historical crises trigger apocalyptic thinking. The destruction of Jerusalem is the historical event that triggers Chapter 21. The writing about the future is mixed with what is really going on in history. Laced with symbols, signs, and mysterious figures of speech, it is a remarkable witness to the faith of those who write this way. Amid painful and prolonged suffering, with no relief in sight, faith turns its face toward heaven not only for a revelation of God’s will but also for a vision of the end of the present misery and the beginning of the age to come.

So, in this chapter, Luke describes the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem which had happened fifteen or twenty years before he wrote the Gospel. He seems to be concerned that believers not interpret the fall of Jerusalem as a sign the world is ending, and he continues to insist that the question of “When” is not answered because it is unknown. What Luke does through all of this apocalyptic scene is establish that the present time is the time for “testimony.” He writes: “But before all this occurs they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So, make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance for I will gives you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.” Luke goes on to remind the church that the Son of Man will return. 

The whole purpose of this writing is not to inspire terror, but to strengthen the faith of believers in God, who works in real time This end time prophecy appeals to faith by opening eyes to see God at work even in places where we might not expect to. Jesus‘prophecies here are not designed to scare, coerce, or intimidate believers into spiritual submission in order to avert death and hell. The end time prophecy is not really the end. It is a transition into a new beginning in Christ Jesus. He tells a parable of the Fig Tree as a reminder that the church should be watching for the signs. In other words, living with hope. With the last two verses of Chapter 21, the public ministry of Jesus is complete. It ends beautifully: “Every day he was teaching in the temple, and at night he would go out and spend the night on the Mount of Olives, as it was called. And all the people would get up early in the morning to listen to him in the Temple.”

Luke’s method of presenting the final instructions of Jesus for these apostles is the Supper. He shapes the tradition in the form of a farewell meal with a leader and his followers. Luke’s Supper Narrative is three times as long as Mark and Matthew, and it is much less foreboding. There are words of warning, instruction and encouragement. There is a prediction about the apostles and Peter, but the tone is much more positive so that the conversation at the supper is tilted toward victory, where the disciples will sit on thrones in the kingdom of Jesus and Simon Peter will turn and strengthen his brothers.  Unique to Luke is the inclusion of the betrayer at the table. In Luke, Judas is there till the end of the meal, but it is important to notice that Judas is never named until the arrest scene.  In Matthew and Mark, he departs earlier. By including Judas in sharing the bread and wine, Luke emphasizes that forgiveness extends to tax collectors, a dying thief, soldiers with nails and hammers, and even Judas. What is perhaps important to Luke is that Judas not only betrays, but he breaks the covenant in the body and blood of Jesus. That is the issue.

There are two other interesting details in Luke’s reporting of the Supper. There are two cups. Listen to chapter 22 beginning at verse 14. “Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks, he said, ‘Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.’ Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.’” Research into this chapter suggests that Luke may have blended two oral traditions: one had the cup before the bread and another has two cups. The two-cup tradition associates this more closely to the Passover tradition which seems to be Luke’s purpose because the Passover Lamb was not a sin offering. The Passover lamb was the seal of a covenant, and the Passover meal commemorated that covenant offered to the believers by a God who sets free. This is the focus for Luke, liberation; not the forgiveness of sins. For the Hebrew people the forgiveness of sins was a completely different ritual. It had nothing to do with Passover. Luke’s concern here is not with forgiveness, but with unity in the covenant. Those who share in this covenant are joined to one another, life to life, as signified and sealed in the cup divided among themselves.

In this chapter, Luke takes an incident the other Gospels report earlier and inserts it into the occasion of this meal. That incident is the dispute about greatness. By including that here as well as by having Judas remain through the meal, Luke speaks very strong words to the church for which he is writing and for the church today. Betrayal of Christ has occurred and will occur among those who partake of the Lord’s Supper. Then, by taking the dispute from an earlier setting and putting it into the setting of the Supper, he takes what could be an historical event and makes it more than an ugly moment in history to a very real and present exhortation to those who share the table. Love of place and power was a problem for the first followers of Jesus, and it continues to be so. The instructions and the meal conclude with a dire warning about the danger and the threats that lie ahead. The disciples get the point. They know they are no longer in Galilee where welcoming crowds were everywhere. They are now in Jerusalem where danger is everywhere. Jesus contrasts the first sending of the disciples where they had great success without him to the coming time when they will be on their own and rather than success, there will be violence because the charges against him will spread to them. They respond to danger by instinct, sword for sword, weapon for weapon, blow for blow; that is, prepare for danger by becoming dangerous. This is, of course, not the way of Jesus, and Luke ends the whole report of the supper with powerful words of Jesus reacting to this sword talk: “It is enough.” With that, he goes off to pray in the garden.

With verse 39 in Chapter 22, the Passion Narrative begins. I think it is helpful to think of, pray with, and study over the Passion as if it were a Drama in Four Acts.

Act 1 has two scenes: Prayer and Arrest.

There are two verses in this chapter 22 that may have been added by a scribe later on because they are not present in the earliest manuscripts. They are 33 and 34 which go like this: “Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.” Without those verses, Luke does not portray Jesus in anguish, wrestling for hours with the will of God. The scene is more like the other occasions of Jesus in prayer. Luke does not portray Jesus in distress. He is much more in command, and he simply instructs his disciples to pray while he prays. This Jesus is so at peace with God that he cannot be distraught by the sufferings that are inflicted on him. It is as though Luke would have Jesus revealed as a model to Christian sufferers and martyrs. Certainly, what Luke wants to do here is present Jesus as a model for all his followers in his prayer life and in the way he confronts a crises. In Luke, Jesus is always a man of prayer, and the prayer of Jesus at this point has a striking similarity to the prayer he taught the disciples. 

When it comes to details in this scene, Luke has five not found in the other Gospels. There are many more details in Matthew and Mark.  John omits the prayer scene entirely. So, unique to Luke are these:

  1. This scene which we commonly call, “The Agony in the Garden” is the shortest of the Gospels.
  2. Luke places this scene on the Mount of Olives, the place where Jesus had been staying. Mark & Matthew place it in Gethsemane. John simply says, “a garden.”
  3. There are not 3 disciples in Luke. They are all asked to pray
  4. Jesus comes to them only once, not three times and Luke explains that they were sleeping because of sorrow which softens the reprimand. He is not scolding or complaining. 
  5. Luke has Jesus kneel in prayer not fall to the ground.

For Luke, the coming of that angel is all that Jesus needs for strength, and that is the answer to his prayer. With that, he goes to the sleeping disciples only one time and he is, as I’ve said several times, gentle with them. 

Now the second Scene“The Arrest”.  Luke again is consistently kinder to the apostles than the other Gospels. There is no suggestion that Judas planned to kiss Jesus. There is no young man who runs away, and the healing of the severed ear shows us a Jesus who is still gentle and healing even with those who would do him harm. In this scene, the presence of the “Chief Priests,” captains of the Temple Guard, and elders is unique to Luke. The whole episode in Luke is brief. Only three times in Luke’s Gospel is there mention of Judas: in the naming of the 12, during the last supper (22) when Luke tells us that Satan had entered him, and finally here when Jesus address Judas directly. There is about it an intimacy that some scholars suggest is one last attempt to touch the heart of Judas.  Luke never tells us that Judas actually kissed Jesus. It is Jesus who brings that up in their confrontation, and it’s almost as if Jesus was refusing. Luke explains the decision of Judas by saying that Satan had entered Judas, and Luke is the only Gospel that says that. It would seem that this is Luke’s way of referring back to the Temptation scene at the beginning of the Gospel when he says that Satan would return. Only John’s Gospel has Jesus speaking to the arresting crowd about his disciples. In John, he insists that the disciples should not be arrested. In Luke’s Gospel, they simply disperse without any suggestion that they ran away out of fear. Luke is always protecting the disciples.  Then, Jesus is taken to the Sanhedrin at the house of the High Priest. End of Act One.

Act Two has four scenes.

In Luke there are four trials that make up Act Two.

Scene One is the trail before the Sanhedrin. This is the religious trial that begins the interrogation. It is in the midst of this trial that Luke tells of Peter’s denial. In Mark’s Gospel the denials are split up. All this happens at night. In the morning Jesus is before the assembly of the elders with Chief Priests and Scribes present. Two questions make up this interrogation, and the issue is his identity: Are you the Messiah? Are you the Son of God? Are you a King?

Scene Two is the first trail before Pilate. Luke, different from the other reports adds that the “Council” sent him to Pilate with three charges. This is a good example of Luke’s effort to be “More Orderly” as he promised in the opening of the Gospel.  It’s also interesting that these charges are the same charges raised against St Paul when he is brought before the prefect Felix in the 24th chapter of Acts. The charges:

  1. We found this man perverting our nation
  2. Forbidding us to pay Taxes to the emperor
  3. Saying that he is the Messiah, a king. 

This trial before Pilate is a preliminary trial to establish cause. Luke says nothing about false witnesses. The only witness is Jesus himself who answers the question about being King by simply saying: “You say that I am”. They do not condemn Jesus to death. Pilate has no interest in two of the charges brought by the Sanhedrin about being Messiah and Son of God, but he is focused on the last one about being King. He asks the question: “Are you the King of the Jews?” And Jesus answers Pilate exactly the same way he answered the Sanhedrin. Pilate finds no guilt, and when he says so, the accusers insist that Jesus has been stirring up trouble in Galilee, a place that at the time was a hot-bed of revolution. With this, we have a major piece unique to Luke. Pilate sends Jesus to Herod who happened to be in Jerusalem at the time and had expressed interest in seeing Jesus.

Scene Three takes place before Herod. So, finding that Jesus is a Galilean and that Herod is in Jerusalem, Pilate sends Jesus to Herod who is the ruler of Galilee. Only a “puppet” ruler set up by the Romans, Herod has no real power. Jesus will not speak to Herod whose relationship with the Romans is a disgrace. This trial is unique to Luke. Found not guilty by Herod, Jesus is sent back for the fourth trial. This is a sequence that makes Pilate want to set Jesus free. The same pattern is found in Acts of the Apostles with Paul being sent by the Roman Governor to Herod Agrippa II only to have Paul found not guilty. It is at the court of Herod that Jesus is mocked and robed. 

Scene Four is back before Pilate. He convenes a larger group to announce the fate of Jesus. He will not intervene in any religious disagreement. At first Pilate is not yet influenced by the growing displeasure of the crowds who are not present. He is caught between the innocence of Jesus and the council’s desires. Only Luke’s Pilate declares the innocence of Jesus on three occasions. Politically savvy he does not go against the Jerusalem leadership and the condemnation is an alliance for two opposing political forces. So much so that Luke tells us that Herod and Pilate became friends that day. Despite Luke’s portrayal, Pilate must have considered Jesus some type of threat. You may notice that in Luke, there is no explanation about that custom of releasing a prisoner. Probably because Luke, who knew a lot about Roman customs did not think it was true. Luke simply has the people wanting to make a trade. Jesus for Barabbas. In the earliest manuscripts, this is not mentioned at all. Some scribe added this later without any explanation. Luke, as we now have it, simply has the people in a tirade, Jesus for Barabbas. Pilate gives in, and the Romans carry out the crucifixion. Act Three ends with Jesus being “handed over” as they wished. Act Three closes.

Act Four has three scenes.

The first scene is the Journey to the crucifixion, and Simon of Cyrene is introduced. Luke tells us he was “seized. He had no choice in the matter. Then, unique to Luke is the encounter with the women of Jerusalem. Including them as mourners gives us a clue that not everyone in Jerusalem were calling for crucifixion. Surprisingly Jesus tells them to stop weeping. The command to stop weeping comes up several times in the Gospel all pointing to the fact that the march to the cross is going to end not in death but in resurrection. Here is one of those moments when we have back away from thinking that this is a narration of an historical event. That is not to say that Jesus was not crucified, died, and was buried. We say and believe that in our every one of our creeds. However, what we must do with Luke’s Gospel account is keep asking what does it mean theologically. There are too many discrepancies to trust this as “history.” This second theme is a perfect example.

This scene takes place on Golgotha.

Here, two others about to be crucified are mentioned. They are nameless, but Luke calls them “evildoers.” Matthew and Mark call them robbers. Luke’s Gospel is the only one to record the exchange between Jesus and the second criminal. The other Gospels record that the criminals join in reviling Jesus. The division of Jesus’s’ garments in Luke uses words from Psalm 22 as evidence for what Luke claims all along that Jesus’ life and death fulfill God’s promises in Scripture. The mocking of Jesus by everyone present is really an affirmation of his identity. The report that darkness covered the earth about Noon suggests that the whole cosmos is invested in the redemption offered through this Messiah.

The Temple has been a key setting in Luke’s Gospel. It begins and ends there. The tearing of the veil is told in the passive voice, suggesting that this is God’s response to the crucifixion. God refuses to stay put, even in a sacred space. Did the Temple veil really get torn? That’s the wrong question. What does Luke reveal with this detail? “God refuses to stay put, even in sacred space.”

The Last words of Jesus in Luke: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” come from Psalm 31: 5 In this psalm, the anguished psalmist cries out to God for deliverance and praises God for preserving the faithful. The Psalm ends with hope. Luke’s story of Jesus does not end with the cross. God will vindicate God’s servant and provide redemption for the whole world.

Although the Romans have played a major role in the crucifixion, it is a Roman centurion who first responds to the death of Jesus. He has witnessed the taunts of the Jewish rulers and fellow soldiers. He has heard Jesus speak with the criminals and heard the cries to the Father. After experiencing the darkness and observing the death of Jesus, he praised God saying: “Surely this man was just.” The multitudes are also witnessing to the death, and it is not at all clear that these are the folks who shouted, “Crucify him.” This multitude probably consists of the same people who marched behind Jesus, stood by and watching as the rulers scoffed and the soldiers mocked. The text simply says that they gathered for this spectacle. Now Jesus is dead, and there is nothing left for them to do but to go home. Whatever hope they had that Jesus would perform a miraculous escape is gone. 

We are left to wonder with these witnesses: Why was it necessary for the Son of Man to die? Could God’s plan for the world’s redemption really include such a violent scene as this? Fortunately, this is not the end of Gospel story, but there is no good news without the cross. All would-be followers of Jesus are forced to acknowledge the shocking truth of God’s forgiveness and grace. 

Luke views the killing of Jesus as a martyrdom, the unjust murder of an innocent man by the authorities is a model for disciples. He avoids any connection between the death of Jesus and the forgiveness of sins. For Luke, the forgiveness of sins comes from the Risen Christ. For Luke, Jesus stands at the end of a long line of martyr/prophets just as the prophets of old were all murdered. For Luke this death is the fulfillment of prophesies. Jesus dies quietly, full of trust, a model for Christian martyrs to follow. That calm assurance at death was enough to convince the centurion of the innocence of Jesus. He confirms once more what we all know: “Certainly this man was innocent.” 

The Third scene tells of what happens after the death of Jesus. Luke’s narration of the burial shows his artistry and the unity of the Gospel. In style and substance, this scene hearkens back to the Gospel’s beginning and brings us full circle. Joseph of Arimathea is neither an opponent nor a disciple of Jesus. He is described as a “good and righteous man” who “was waiting for the kingdom of God. In this way, Luke casts Joseph alongside the characters we met at the beginning, Elizabeth and Zechariah, Anna and Simeon who were good and righteous waiting for the Kingdom of God.” 

Luke’s account of the Burial of Jesus by Joseph of Arimathea has two significant variations from the story in Matthew and Mark giving us some clues about what matters to Luke. He tells us that Joseph of Arimathea was a member of the Sanhedrin who “had not consented to their proposal and deed.” In other words, he thought Jesus was innocent which is a theme we heard all through Luke’s trial scenes. Pilate said it twice, Herod said it, a crucified thief said it, a centurion said it, and now Joseph of Arimathea is the final human witness to the innocence of Jesus. The second variation concerns the women (no surprise there since Luke has always been attentive and recorded stories of the women’s role in the ministry of Jesus). Luke indicates that some women saw where Jesus was buried but also specifies that they had come up with Jesus from Galilee and that they saw how the body was laid. Luke, as I said before is very concerned to establish that there was a dead body and that it was buried. This give credence to what is to come with the Resurrection and the Ascension. He wants to clearly establish a link between the church’s Lord and the one who dies in Jerusalem and the one who worked in Galilee by having Galileans present as witnesses to the Jerusalem events. Theologically, this means that the one who empowered is the one who died. The is real. It was through this suffering that the obedience of Jesus was perfected. To put it more simply: “There is no way to the Father except by obedience to the will of the Father.

We are now at Chapter 24 which concludes the first part of Luke’s work, Acts of the Apostles being the second part. As I said at the beginning, the Resurrection story and the theology it puts before us must be for another time. I’m sorry that we can’t take it up today, but it is Lent, and Easter is several weeks away. As  a reward or as a challenge because you sat through all of this so patiently, I am leaving something with you that might have made a fourth talk in this series. Take it with you and perhaps during the Triduum you could read it, and more deeply enter into the mystery and wonder of Luke’s Gospel that so perfectly ties together the Passover and the Eucharistic Sacrifice. This last chapter, 24 is really the most interesting part of our study and reflection on Luke’s Gospel because with one exception this material is not found anywhere in the other Gospels. Luke began his Gospel with the Infancy Narrative that was uniquely his own, and he concludes with a narrative of the Resurrection that is also uniquely his own. As you read it before my reflection, try to blank out details we have all absorbed from Matthew, Mark, and John. Just concentrate on what is there. As always gathering to be fed on a Gospel is a precious gift and the best use our time. We believe that Christ becomes present by the power of the Word.  Words do not just describe reality. They can also be active and transformative. Not just expressive or descriptive. A Baseball word changes reality: “You’re out”. Sometimes someone says something to us that changes your whole life. That’s creative and transformative. Or something the other way around something hurtful changes us for years. Our little words can change reality – think of God’s word! How does God make the world? By the power of a Word Speech! God’s word is not descriptive it is creative. God speaks the world into being. In the beginning there was the Word – the Word became flesh, and What God says IS. Lazarus come out! Pick up your mat and walk.  What God says IS. The night before he dies he took bread and said THIS IS MY BODY. Notice at Mass how the language changes.  This stuns me every time I pick up that host. The priest begins in the third person: “He Took Bread, said the Blessing, broke it and gave to them saying…”  Then it changes into the First person. We speak in persona Christi. With this final wandering away from Luke into John, we can see how closely the theology of the Gospels weave together the core of our faith resting upon the revelation given to us by each of the evangelists. Let me conclude by repeating what our Holy Father Francis has been saying over and over again as he allows the Holy Spirit to reshape this church of ours. Evangelization is what we do and evangelists is what we are by the command of Jesus and will of the Father. What Francis is reminding us over and over again is the evangelization is not a matter of words, or saying the right thing, or convincing someone by argument. Evangelization is a quality of life. People are won over to Jesus Christ not by arguments from history or propositions from a Catechism, but by actions of believing people. People came to Jesus because of what he did before they heard him say anything. People still today will be won over by the heart before the brain. Our study of the Sacred Scriptures, our study and knowledge of St Luke’s Gospel is to open our hearts so that we might live this gospel not preach it, because people will see what we do long before they hear what we say, and in the end what we say must come from the heart. It is a joy for me to be here again. Let us close with prayer and may God lead you safely home.

Lent of 2025

Part 4 of 4 – The Resurrection Narrative

Some of Chapter 24 clearly draws on Mark 16: 1-8. Another version is found in Matthew with John’s being quite different. What present research suggests is that scribes who copied the manuscripts quite early permitted, consciously or unconsciously, the resurrection stories of the other Gospels to influence what they were writing. In some cases, they probably were remembering Mark or John while writing Luke; in others they may have intentionally been harmonizing. This does not mean that there was an attempt to deceive or to reduce the faith in any way. On the contrary, the general tendency was to enlarge the story. This “cross-fertilization” of texts is to be taken as evidence that the early church treated the resurrection stories as one story, and the blending occurred as it does with us, two, three, or four accounts of one event, even though each has its own accent and purpose, tend to become one account in the church’s memory.

There are five major events: two empty tomb episodes; two major appearances; and the departure of Jesus. This is all located in Jerusalem or nearby, and it all happens in one long day. This exclusive focus on Jerusalem is distinct to Luke. Matthew and Mark have things happening in Galilee over a longer period of time. So much for the idea that Jesus hung around for 40 days before the Ascension! Once more, you see, this is Theology. It is not history. Details do not have to match.

Let’s just deal with the theology. Luke is passing on to us the early Christian understanding of the resurrection as a prototype of Christian existence. In earliest Christianity the resurrection of Jesus encompassed three different realties:

  1. The Victory of Jesus over death.
  2. The removal of Jesus from human time and space into another dimension (God)
  3. The new function of Jesus as cosmic Lord.

Luke takes these realities and makes three separate events on a chronological time line. In other words, he takes this theological idea of what happened and he puts that idea into events that happen in sequence: The Resurrection, The Ascension; The Exaltation. By taking the three different pieces individually, he can focus on the meaning of each without distraction. What this means is that in Luke, the resurrection of Jesus refers only to his victory over death. The thinking of Luke is that what happens to Jesus is what his disciples may expect for themselves.

Stick with me. This is complicated, but not impossible. The first empty tomb tradition which is the women at the empty tomb and the second appearance story which is the one after the Emmaus story when Jesus appears among the apostles affirm the reality that there is a body that has risen. There is no dead body in the tomb even though they saw it put there. An empty tomb means one thing, the body is not there. That’s all. If Christians are going to proclaim Christ has risen, there needs to be experiences of the Christ who was dead and is now risen. So, there is a body that eats something. More importantly this body has the wounds that were on the body they buried. This faith is based upon witnesses who saw and experienced something real. It is not based on how they felt or what they wished. Whatever the nature of this victory over death was, it involved the absence of that body from the tomb.

Luke wants to give some real authority to this, so he mentions names and these are the same women of Galilee who saw the body being put in that tomb. They knew where it was Luke told us in the previous chapter. Then Luke tells us that when the women came to the apostles and the others, Peter got up and ran to the tomb. (There is no John in a foot race with Peter in Luke’s narrative.) Luke wants the witness of Peter so that there are two sets of witnesses. Peter’s witness is important to Jewish people at the time because women didn’t count. There is no surprise here since Luke’s Gospel always gives women a special place. So, there they are. In order to be persuasive at the time, there had to be a male witness.  The detail of finding the linen clothes by themselves is Luke’s way of stopping the rumor that the body had been stolen. They would not have taken the body without it being wrapped. This is Luke’s way of celebrating the victory over death.

After the two empty tomb episodes, we come to the first of two appearances: a story unique to Luke and a story that really highlights his writing skills. It is what we have come to call, “The Emmaus Story.”  Luke now clarifies the nature of the Eucharist, and he uses the Emmaus story to do so at least for the Lukan community. In Luke’s wonderful story telling style, we get to know who the person is that joins them, and in an ironic way, we get to hear them talk about the death of Jesus to Jesus himself! We should notice (because Luke wants us to) that there are three units to the whole story: the narrative discussion, the meal and the journey back as a Mission of Proclamation.

The meal is really what holds this together. It is the Eucharist as we know it. It begins with an act of hospitality, an invitation to a stranger by those who prepared the table. It is the presence of Christ at a table opened to a stranger which transforms an ordinary supper into the sacrament. Christ is in a sense the guest, and yet he is the host who breaks the bread, blesses God and shares with those at table. It is in this act that that the disciples recognize the stranger as Christ.

It begins then with the Scriptures as Jesus goes over the writings and the prophets. The one who is named in this episode, Cleopas, provides us with a glimpse into the earliest preaching. It is Luke’s concise statements about Jesus, his mighty works, suffering, death, and resurrection. This is the content of Christian preaching. The description of Jesus reviewing the Prophets with these two is a kind of reprimand for their unbelief on the grounds that the suffering death, and resurrection of Jesus is set forth in the Scriptures that they should have known. All through Luke’s Gospel there is insistence that Jesus fulfilled the prophecies of the Scriptures. They pointed to the very acts of his ministry, so his suffering, and his death. For Luke, the gospel of Jesus Christs continues and brings to fulfillment the law, the prophets, and the writings.

The Eucharistic ritual continues: after the Word comes the Sacrament, and then Mission. The time of day is significant because the evening is the time when the Christians would gather together for prayer and the eucharist. As the story goes, Jesus becomes the host, which confirms that Luke is describing a Eucharistic Meal connected to the Paschal Meal in the upper room. Luke tells us that Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it and gave it to them. This is ritual language that Luke has used before when he fed the multitudes, and when he sat in an upper room. On those occasions, they did not “recognize him”, but now, the risen one is recognized. When Luke says that their eyes were opened, it describes conversion. This story serves as a bridge between the meals the earthly Jesus had with his disciples and the later church’s Eucharist. It also says that at such meals the presence of the risen Lord was known. Jesus is alive and one place of his recognition is in the breaking of bread. The importance of knowing and experiencing the living Christ in word and sacrament cannot be overemphasized.

There is a third part to this story that we may not overlook: the return of these two to Jerusalem where they want to spread the Good News. It is the perfect match or parallel to the Eucharist as the Church has known it: Word, Sacrament, Mission (Mass). Without the third part, the “Missa” something important is missing.

Now to the appearance of Jesus to the Eleven in Jerusalem. This also reinforces the theology that what rose was a living body.  They thought they were seeing a ghost. He shows them hands and feet with the wounds, and then he wants to eat something. They fed him and he ate in front of them. Angels and Ghosts don’t eat. Only humans eat. For Luke, the risen Lord is no less than the Jesus before he died. He eats and can be seen and touched. These two stories say the same thing about the nature of Jesus’ victory over death: it is not to be understood as an escape from the perishable body, but a transformation of it. That transformation is not into a spiritual being because Jesus remained flesh and blood though immortal and not limited by time and space. This is not the immortality of the soul while the body decays. It is something totally new.

For Luke, there is here what we could call “Table Fellowship”. What was interrupted by the death of Jesus is resumed at the initiative of Jesus. From now on the disciples will continue to do this in remembrance of him. These incidents when Jesus eats with them serves as a bridge between the meals the earthly Jesus had with his disciples and the later church’s Eucharist, it says that at such meals the presence of the risen Lord was known. Jesus is alive and one place of his recognition is at the breaking of the bread.

At this point I think it is important to dig into what it means to “remember”. I believe that this issue is at the root of a great problem among believers when it comes to what we believe about the Body and Blood of Christ. There is no room for anything but a firm belief that what looks like bread is the very real Body of Christ and what looks like wine is the very real Blood of Christ. These are not “symbols” or signs. They are real. The root of this error probably comes from a failure to understand “remembering”. In this use and context, it does not mean to “recall”.  There are three times in which to know an event: in rehearsal, at the time of the event, and in remembrance. In rehearsal, understanding is hindered by an inability to believe that the event will really occur or that it will be important. At the time of the event, understanding is hindered by the clutter and confusion of so much so fast. But in remembrance, the nonseriousness of rehearsal and the busyness of the event give way to recognition, realization, and understanding.

To understand this, we have to take the word apart: RE-Member. It means to put together, to join. Think of it this way. God’s response to sin which broke and still breaks the relationship we have with God was a gathering in, the formation of a People that today we call the “Church”. It’s a joining together what had been broken apart. In the Eucharist God joins us with one another and with God’s self in the Body and Blood of Christ. Jesus gathered a people. He reached out and looked for those who were alone by sickness or sin, and he re-membered them to himself and to all the people who had been scattered by sin, self-centered, selfish, and alone. For a deeper understanding, we start with the Bible.

John 6 is the place to start. First, we hear of the magnetic power of the presence of Jesus. Large crowds followed him everywhere. In that chapter, Jesus goes up the mountain – which is the place where one can get close to God. Once there, Jesus sits, the posture of a teacher there on that holy mountain. This is what happens in the first part of our Mass. Jesus teaches us. There he feeds that crowd by taking the little bit that we have (think of the gifts we bring to that altar). With that little bit, he can multiply it for the feeding of the world. We know how much is left over: twelve! There is the Mass.

Then he goes to Capernaum and the people follow him. He begins to teach again. He says don’t hunger for these passing loaves of bread but for the food that lasts for eternal life. “I am the bread of life those who come to me will never be hungry, those who believe in me will never be thirsty. I AM THE LIVING BREAD come down from heaven. If you eat this bread, you will live forever. The bread that I will give you is my flesh for the life of the world.”  The crowd balked at this. A first century Jew would be repulsed by the eating of flesh with blood. That’s forbidden to them. Given therefore every opportunity to soften his teaching or propose a symbolic meaning, he goes on to say, “Amen, Amen, I say to you. Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood. You have no life in you, for my Flesh is real food. My Blood is real drink.”  Now, the verb Jesus uses here is not the usual word for eating. He uses the verb (trogain) which means gnaw on.

Something real strange is going on here. While the scriptures are full of symbolic thought and symbolic images, but when Jesus puts this out so clearly, many of his followers turn away and would not go with him anymore. So, he asks the twelve if they would like to leave. This teaching is a watershed, a point of division. It’s either you are against me or with me moment. If this was just symbol talk, why would anyone be upset. But Jesus does not compromise, soften it, or give in. This is the ground for the Catholic insistence that this is the real Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.

Ignatius of Antioch in letter to Smyrna. (35 AD) “They abstain from the Eucharist and Prayer because they do not admit that this is flesh of the Son of Man.” Justin Martyr (165 AD) “For not as common bread or common drink do we receive, but we receive the real body and blood of Christ.” Origin of Alexandria (early 3rd century) speaks about reverence and almost obsessive care for crumbs that fall from the sacred gifts.  St John Chrysostom says: “What is the bread but the body of Christ. What do they become who partake of it, the body of Christ? Not many bodies, but one body. This is the way we are Christified. Our bodies are Christified. We are prepared for heaven by bringing our body in contact with the body of Christ.  The early church never wavers from this.

In the 11th century a Bishop in Tours proposes the symbol/sign language. He teaches that something is added to the Bread, some spiritual, but it is still bread with an added something.  A great debate occurs that ends with a Council. That council insists that this is wrong, and that what is on the altar after the consecration is the Flesh and Blood of Christ. His opponent says that there is something more going on in the Eucharist than is going on in the other sacraments. This is not a spiritual addition to bread. In the other sacraments, oil is still oil and water is still water. In the Eucharist, something is different.

Aquinas in the 13th century – a vivid personal relationship. He wept at Mass, and would often rest his head against the tabernacle begging for inspiration. At the end of his life after completing his masterpiece, he places the text about the eucharist at the foot of the cross, and it said that a voice came from the cross saying: “Thomas, you’ve written well of me. What would you have as a reward: I will have nothing except you Lord.” His great work has three parts: 1) About God and Creation 2) About human being and our moral life 3) About incarnation, Christ and the Sacraments. The last part he wrote is about the Eucharist. Baptism is the generation of Life. Confirmation is the augmentation of life. Communion is food of the life. Eucharist has three names in time

1 Past: Sacrifice

2 Present: Communion with Christ

3 Future: Viaticum the great name is “Eucharistia.” Thanksgiving which is what we will do in heaven.

Transubstantiation comes from Thomas. Substance is the deepest and core reality of something. When we speak of substance, we mean the deepest reality what something is. What stands under. What does it stand under? Accidents Appearance or Species like spectacle. What you see.

In the act of Consecration, the substance of bread and wine change into the Body and Blood of Jesus even as the appearances (species) of Bread and Wine remain. This is how we bring John 6 forward.  The senses perceive bread and wine. The change comes at the level of substance not appearances. The disciples on their way to Emmaus see everything, but they don’t get it. They do not understand. If all we understand is what we see, we are lost.

There was a great 16th century Protestant/Catholic debate. Luther did not like Thomas Aquinas. Luther saw an addition to the bread. To speak in a general way, Protestants do not believe in Transubstantiation. The Council at Trent addressed the issue in response. 11 canons (summaries) Canon One: If anyone were to deny that the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity is contained truly and really substantially as a symbol – let them be condemned. We are to say that the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity is contained real, true and substantially not in sign or figure.

How does Christ become really present? Trent says, By the power of the Word. The words do not just describe reality. Language can also be active and transformative. Not just expressive or descriptive. A Baseball word changes reality: “You’re out”. Sometimes someone says something to us that changes your whole life. That’s creative and transformative. Or something the other way around something hurtful changes us for years. Our little words can change reality – think of God’s word! How does God make the world? By the power of a Word Speech! God’s word is not descriptive it is creative. God speaks the world into being. In the beginning there was the Word – the Word became flesh, and What God says IS. Lazarus come out! Pick up your mat and walk.  What God says IS. The night before he dies he took bread and said THIS IS MY BODY. Notice at Mass how the language changes.  This stuns me every time I pick up that host. The priest begins in the third person: “He Took Bread, said the Blessing, broke it and gave to them saying…”  Then it changes into the First person. We speak in persona Christi.

With this final wandering away from Luke into John, we can see how closely the theology of the Gospels weave together the core of our faith resting upon the revelation given to us by each of the evangelists. Let me conclude by repeating what our Holy Father Francis has been saying over and over again as he allows the Holy Spirit to reshape this church of ours. Evangelization is what we do and evangelists is what we are by the command of Jesus and will of the Father. What Francis is reminding us over and over again is the evangelization is not a matter of words, or saying the right thing, or convincing someone by argument. Evangelization is a quality of life. People are won over to Jesus Christ not by arguments from history or propositions from a Catechism, but by actions of believing people. People came to Jesus because of what he did before they heard him say anything. People still today will be won over by the heart before the brain. Our study of the Sacred Scriptures, our study and knowledge of St Luke’s Gospel is to open our hearts so that we might live this gospel not preach it, because people will see what we do long before they hear what we say, and in the end, what we say must  come from the heart.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

The Roman Rite Mass and Language of Ritual Part Three

In a conversation about the Liturgy with someone recently, they expressed some surprise and not just a little annoyance when a fairly young priest said to her: “The Mass is a sacrifice. That talk about a meal and the altar as a table is just some Protestant idea that is totally wrong.” I wondered to myself at the time why it was an either-or matter in his mind. Then I began to wonder if that priest had paid any attention to the narrative of the Last Supper. I don’t think we call it the “Last Sacrifice.” The more I thought about it I wondered if that young man had any knowledge of Covenant which happens to be what was instituted and sealed at that meal in an upper room. Every Covenant in the whole history of salvation as recorded in the Scriptures involves a sacrifice and a meal. They always ate. They always consumed something in accepting and entering into a Covenant. The Old Covenant was sealed by the sacrifice of a lamb, and then the act of consuming what has been sacrificed binds one into the Covenant.

It is entirely possible that one or the other of these realities: sacrifice or meal might gain more importance or receive more attention from time to time, but it’s not a good idea to exclude either one. Doing so distorts everything and interferes with the action of God. Both sacrifice and meal contribute to the things we say and do in our ritual response to God’s action and Word. Let’s sort that out tonight.

The Paschal Sacrifice of Christ cannot be understood at all without understanding the Passover Sacrifice. The whole new Covenant springs out of the fulfillment of the Old Covenant. It isn’t by chance that Matthew carefully casts Jesus in the image of Moses. It is entirely possible that Jesus saw Moses as his role model. Both what he says and what he does leaves little doubt about the influence of Moses and the Torah on Jesus himself. His life in the synagogue, his participation in the Feasts at the Temple root him firmly in Israel’s tradition.

There are some questions that can lead deeply into the profound meaning of what we say, what we do, and why. The first question is, “What does God ask of us?” The answer to that question is found in the Book of Exodus when Moses, at God’s insistence approaches Pharaoh petitioning for the freedom of the Israelites. In Chapter 8 it says: “Go to Pharaoh and say to him: ‘Let my people go so that they may worship me.” Right there you have the answer of what God asks of us. Worship. The whole point of saving people is for worship. We know how that story unfolds as Moses goes back and forth between plagues. Finally, near the end Pharaoh tells Moses it’s OK to go and take some stuff, sheep, and goats with them. Moses says, “No.” We need to take everything because we do not know what the Lord will ask of us.  With the last plague, as we know, Pharaoh has had enough, and the Israelites take everything and head out into the desert. The first place they go is to Mount Saini. They don’t know how to worship. They have been slaves. At this point in the history of salvation, they are not really a people, but there they find out. They discover that the heart of religion is worship, and the heart of worship is sacrifice. What we give to God is sacrifice.

Let me remind you what they are instructed to do. They are to take a year-old lamb, and the first thing they are told to do is to take it into their home. Now, remember when we were little and would come home with a stray cat or dog and want to keep it? I’m not sure about your home, but I can tell, Ruth and Ted always said no, and that was the end of it. As an adult, I have begun to understand why it was “no”. They did not want us to become attached to it especially if the owner would show up and take it back breaking our hearts. Well, there are two reasons why God required that the little lamb be taken into the home: to keep it safe and unblemished, and to let a relationship of love grow. 

Then, the instructions continue. When it was time for the Passover, the lamb was to be carried to the temple, carried, again to keep it unblemished. Once at the Temple, it was lifted up in a place with a high wall where someone opened its throat catching the blood in a bowl. By that lifting up, the lamb was presented. It was not offered. There is a difference. That bowl was then taken into the holy place and the blood was poured out onto the altar. At that moment, it was offered to the Father. It was an “oblation.” That somewhat technical word means it was offered to God, offered in such a way that there was nothing left. God was given it all. That’s an oblation. There can be all sorts of sacrifices for all sorts of reason. An athlete makes sacrifices in training to become better. That’s not an oblation. Notice and hear the language we use in the Liturgy. After the Oblation takes place, the dead lamb was taken home to be roasted and a feast was held to which others were invited who might not be able to afford a lamb. The story of the Passover was told again beginning with the youngest person present asking a question: “What does this mean?” The point of worship, the whole point of sacrifice is that you give up something you love. You give it all.

The question still stands for us: How has God asked us to worship him? In the Old Covenant, Take a lamb and slaughter it. In the New Covenant, how does he ask for worship? Do this in memory of me. That’s how God wants us to worship: Do This. At the moment in the Liturgy when the Words of Institution are spoken, that is the presentation. That is when the lamb is lifted up to the wall. When those sacred elements are held up in the hand. At that moment, we are confronted with the Mystery of Faith. It is presenting. It is not worship.

Worship is offered when the priest takes the body and blood of Christ and lifts it high with these extraordinary words that say it all: Through Him, With Him, and In Him, God, Almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirt, all glory and honor is yours forever and ever. That is the moment of fulfillment. That is the moment of true worship. It is the moment when the Father is glorified. And what do we say at that moment? Amen. The instructions call it “The Great Amen.” In my experience as priest it is more like the “Lame” Amen. It is just a signal to get off our knees. If there is ever a time for bell ringing and incense smoking, it is right here, at this moment, not at the presentation moment. The whole purpose of the presentation is the oblation. The whole purpose of the consecration is the offering of Christ’s Body to the Father. Through Him. With Him. In Him. Do you remember what is said after that? (All Glory and Honor) Isn’t that exactly what you said you were going to do after the gifts were placed on the altar?

Let’s review that just for the sake of emphasis. Just before the Eucharistic Prayer’s Preface begins, the priest says to the assembly: Let us pray that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the Almighty Father. Then, what does the assembly say? “May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of his name, for our good and the good of all his holy church.”

My friends with those words those present are exercising the priesthood into which we were all called and anointed at our Baptism. You cannot waste your priesthood by watching. You have to get into the worship giving glory and praise to God. People may not sit in a pew and watch as though they were watching the Super B owl. In fact, when I think about it, those watching the game are probably on their feet shouting and excited way more excited than most people taking up space in a church on Sunday. The Father asks us to worship and give glory. The Father is glorified and the world is saved only if we stop watching and start worshipping. 

We are not re-enacting the last supper. For me, the prefix “re” suggests doing something again. We are not doing something over again. We have to be careful with that word, “remember.” We are not repeating something that happened in history. In the experience of the liturgy, there is no past. We are in a sense, in the future. This is why I think having a clock in the Church is a bad idea. The moment we step across the threshold of worship in the liturgy, we are outside of time. There is no time in the presence of God. We are actualizing the same gracious deeds God accomplished for us and for our salvation. In the liturgy, the notion of time is one in which a saving act that occurred once and for all at a time and place in saving history is experienced still, here and now, in a new experience until it is fulfilled at God’s saving initiative and in God’s good time at the end of time. 

There are three final ritual gestures important to understand and reflect upon: the fraction rite, the greeting of peace, the reception of Holy Communion with the conclusion of the Sacred Liturgy, and what we begin to see with these final actions is something that is not too surprising. The longer something is done, the more we have to say about it. Just like it is in our lives, the longer we live, the more stuff we accumulate. The oldest of prayers are always shortest until someone decides to revise them and then they get longer: more words! If you just look at the Eucharistic Prayers in the Latin Rite, you can see it. Eucharistic Prayers Two and Three which have their origins in the 4th and 5th century, they are much shorter than the Roman Canon that comes from the 16th century. Longer still is Eucharistic Prayer Four which was adapted from a Swiss Canon composed in the 20th century.

In the very early days as Christian communities were forming and multiplying, it became increasingly possible for the one responsible for teaching, leading, and sanctifying to be present at each assembly. There developed the custom of distributing a portion of the Body of Christ consecrated at the Principal celebration to the outlying communities as a sign of their unity all together. Someone designated would take a small portion of the Consecrated Bread to other places where it would be mixed in or added to what was on the altar in the outlying place. It was either dropped into the Chalice or mixed into the Consecrated Bread already on the altar. Obviously uniting them in a visible and powerful way to the Leader, (Bishop) and the principal church or “Mother Church” as it was sometimes referred to. As an aside, we accomplish today with the Holy Oils. After the Chrism Mass, every community takes some of the Oil Blessed or Consecrated by the Bishop back home to the local church. It provides for us the same sign that was made with this ancient “Fraction rite.” 

As that custom of sending out a small portion of the Consecrated Bread to each of the communities became increasingly difficult to maintain, an allegorical meaning was attached to the action. The church has always seemed to have a problem recognizing practical things as simply that. For instance, in some Byzantine Rites, there is a ritual gesture of adding hot water to the consecrated wine just before Communion. The water sits over a candle warming all through the liturgy. The purpose of adding the water is to thaw, or soften, the wine which has become somewhat congealed during the long liturgy in frigid cold climate and church.  It’s simply a practical matter introduced to solve a problem. Once the liturgy was celebrated in a warm climate and once churches had some heat, the purpose has to be repurposed to make sense. Water gets added to the wine for us in the Latin Rite simply because the wine used early on tasted terrible. It was a crude drink always on the edge of being spoiled because there was no refrigeration. To make it palatable, they diluted it. The elegant blends of fine wines had not yet been considered. They used what they had. Historians tell us that no one today would drink that stuff. 

It’s the same thing with the washing of hands in the Latin Rite. Early in the formation of the Eucharistic Liturgy, the gifts brought to the altar were many, messy, and varied. After receiving and handling all of that stuff, hand washing was appropriate. When the custom of bringing something out of everything you had had passed away, the hand washing continued now with a prayer to shift the action from practicality to piety. The result is now reflected in the prayer the priest says as water is poured over his hands. It comes from a Psalm, “Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from all my sins.” A practical custom of cleaning up has become a prayer for forgiveness and purity.

The same thing has happened with the fraction rite. First of all, the bread had to be broken up into serving sized pieces. There was also that old custom of adding a portion from the Bishop’s Liturgy that had been brought there. Suddenly, or perhaps gradually, when the practical matter no longer was necessary, an allegorical reason gets added in the form of a prayer which completely changes the meaning of the ritual action.

With the typical efficiency of the Western, Latin, Roman rite, the priest says these words which you rarely hear because a Litany is being sung (Lamb of God). As he breaks off a small piece of the larger portion, (think of the original action) he drops it into the chalice with these words: “May the mingling of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ bring eternal life to us who receive it.”

The Eastern Churches which, by culture, are far more inspired by allegorical ideas, have an even greater and more spiritual dimension to this breaking and mixing. In the Maronite Rite with which I am more familiar, the assembly begins to sing, and the priest, with the large consecrated host in his right hand breaks it over the chalice in two parts; then he breaks a piece from the edge of the half remaining in his left hand saying: “We have believed and have approached and now we seal and break this oblation, the heavenly bread, the Body of the Lord, who is the living God.” Then he dips the small piece into the chalice in the form of a cross saying: “We sign this chalice of salvation and thanksgiving with the forgiving ember which glows with heavenly mysteries.” Then he dips the Body of Christ into the Blood three times saying: “In the name of the Father, the Living One, for the living; and of the only Son, the Holy One, begotten of him, and like him, the Living One , for the living; and of the Holy Spirit, the beginning, the end, and the perfection of all that was and will be in heaven and on earth; the one, true and blessed God without division from whom comes life forever.” Then, he sprinkles the Body three times, using the small piece that has been dipped into the Blood saying: “The Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ is sprinkled on his holy Body, In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  Then, he drops the small piece into the Blood of Christ and says: “You have united, O Lord, your divinity with our humanity and our humanity with your divinity, your life with our mortality and our mortality with your life. You have assumed what is ours and you have given us what is yours for the life and salvation of our souls. To you be glory forever.” The priest then presents the consecrated host and the chalice to the people who together say: “O Lord, you are the pleasing Oblation, who offered yourself for us. You are the forgiving Sacrifice, who offered yourself to your Father. You are the High Priest, who offered yourself as the Lamb. Through your mercy, may our prayer rise like incense which we offer to you Father through you. To you be glory forever.”

This is the Eastern Church’s way of worship – the giving of Glory and Praise to God. It is that elevation of the Sacrament with the words Through, With, and In – To you be glory forever.  That is worship! 

What does the action mean we could ask as the child asks at the Passover Meal. That lifting up and those words mean that God is worshiped, praised, and glorified by God’s Son Jesus and by all of us through, with, and in him. This cannot be observed or watched. The fraction rite does not mean that the sacrifice of Christ was the breaking of his body. The Body of Christ must be broken, yes; but that Body is the ekklesia, the church. We have to be broken in service, and when we are, we are one with Christ. If we are doing nothing, if we’re sitting there watching, there is no worship.

Before we can get to the moment of union, we have to deal with something that is very real and somewhat contradictory. We have to deal with, acknowledge and ritually address our sinful brokenness. Just before the distribution of Communion, the Liturgy, or is it God, invites us to exchange a sign of peace with our brothers and sisters in faith many of whose names we do not even know. The peace that Christians offer each other is a divine gift, never simply the fruit of personal sentiments or feelings. The person with whom I exchange peace is a symbol of the person whom I most need to forgive and the person from whom I hope to receive forgiveness. This is a profound and sacred act. It is not time to be looking around for your friends. You don’t need to be reconciled, forgive, or be forgiven by your friends. Likewise, introducing yourself to someone behind or in front of you is not for this time. You should have already done that when you arrived. This is a time for husbands and wives to simply say, “I’m sorry” and mean it. It is a time for children to look up to their parents and feel the same sorrow, or to look at one another to forgive and find forgiveness for their fights and lies, and meanness. This is about seeking and giving pardon because, we are about to approach the altar of forgiveness, and we had better be at peace, for there might be consequences if we are not. To say to one another, Peace be with you,” means to recognize in each other the need for and the gift of forgiveness. We began the Liturgy by accepting the Lord’s forgiveness. Near the end, give what we have received. 

In the logic of the Liturgy, the two or three people standing near me with whom I exchange peace become in that moment a sign of the real person with whom I recently reconciled or with whom I hope to reconcile soon. In that gesture of peace, I express my openness to peace and reconciliation, received from God. I receive, so to speak, a mandate that I am called to make a part of my daily living. I receive the gift of peace that I am also called to give. The truth of the sign of peace is made manifest by the respect and seriousness with which I give it. If I exchange peace in a superficial and thoughtless way, I run the risk of banalizing so great a gift. It might mean that I have lived this peace in a superficial and thoughtless way as well. If I exchange peace with all, in reality I give it to no one, in the rite and in life. This is personal. It is immediate. It is real.

With peace and forgiveness established, we may now approach the God of mercy and love to be fed, and to become what we eat. There is a procession, seeing it and joining it pulls us deeper into the church. We are a people on a journey toward the Kingdom of God. The procession is an image of all humanity on the way toward God, each of us in our own circumstances and states of life. All go toward the altar. Each of us just as we are with our burdens, our misery, our labors because we are hungry for the bread of mercy, the bread of eternal life that only God can give. In some ways, it is a vision of things to come. 

A French writer named: Christian Bobin describes the Communion Procession of the Faithful on Easter morning. Close your eyes and imagine:

At the moment of Communion, at the Easter Mass, the people got up in silence, walked down the side aisles to the back of the church, then turned one by one up the central aisle, advancing to the front. Where they received the host from a bearded priest with silver-rimmed glasses, helped by two women with faces hardened by the importance of their role, the kind of ageless women who change the flowers on the altar before they wilt and take care of God like he was a tired old husband. Seated at the back of the church, waiting my turn to join the procession, I looked at the people, their postures, their back, their necks, the profiles of their faces. For a second my view opened and I saw all of humanity, its millions of individuals, included in this slow and silent flow; old and adolescent, rich and poor, adulterous women and earnest girls, crazies, killers and geniuses, all scraping their shoes on the cold, rough stone tiles of the church floor, like the dead who will rise patiently from their darkness to go receive the light. Then I understood what the resurrection will be like and the stunning call that will precede it. 

There is not much more to say after that except to remind you that there is one final intense gesture, raising our arms and opening our hands to receive the Body of Christ. Open hands like people about to receive a gift. It is a gesture that must reveal an interior attitude. It is an act of the Spirit. To open one’s hands is the purest human gesture one can make to represent openness to receiving a gift. The posture of one who is standing, with arms out and hands open, signifies not only openness to receive but also total vulnerability and inability to harm. Open hands are confident hands. One who wants to take something from someone, to take possession, does not open their hands but tightens them. We do not grab. We do not take. We receive from someone else. What we receive is salvation in the Eucharistic Bread, a sacrament freely given by the Father. 

Liturgy then, is heaven on earth and at the same time also the threshold of heaven. It is the most sacred thing we do, because through and in it, we humans touch God and are embraced by God. Liturgy is the breaking into our world of all that is of God and of the kingdom of heaven.  What we have in the Liturgy, my friends, is a dynamic school of prayer in which the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit teach us, the believer, how to pray with three important elements: Hearing, Interiorization, and Interpretation. Teaching someone to pray also is teaching someone to believe, and in learning to pray, we learn to believe. I can’t think of a better way to conclude this day than by taking the concluding prayer from the Divine Liturgy of the Maronite Rite. “I leave you in peace, O holy Altar, and I hope to return to you in peace. May the offering I have received from you be for the forgiveness of my faults and the remission of my sins, that I may stand without shame or fear before the throne of Christ. I do not know if I shall be able to return to you again to offer another sacrifice. I leave you in peace. “

Night 2 of 3 St Finbarr Naples, FL

Monday, February 19, 2024

The Roman Rite Mass and Language of Ritual Part Two

Saint Ambrose, in writing “On the Sacraments” tells us that the Eucharistic celebration is a mystery of forgiveness and reconciliation. The entire celebration is filled with gesture and words about reconciliation and forgiveness. From what is properly called: “The Penitential Act” with its “Lord, Have Mercy” litany to those words spoken over the chalice: “Poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins, to the Rite of Peace, to the Lord’s Prayer, to the Lamb of God, it’s all about forgiveness. 

There are four elements in what we could call the Introductory Rite: a greeting, the penitential act, the doxology, and the prayer. These are not separate actions. Think of them like ascending steps. The purpose is for us to enter into the presence of the Lord. The first authentic act the assembly is called to carry out is to approach God’s presence. There is a reciprocal presence here. Psalm 24 was composed for a liturgical entry into the Jerusalem Temple. It goes like this: “Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord? And who shall stand in His holy place? Those who have clean hands and pure hearts.” In the Scriptures, the “pure and just one” is not the one who is without sin but the one who recognizes their sin. When you remember this, those words: “Let us remember or call to mind our sins” become the first act of the assembly. Only the just one shall stand before the Lord, and who is the just one? It is the sinner who knows their own sinfulness. Our Confiteor Prayer then recognizes our sin. With that comes the great “doxology”. 

Doxos is a Greek word meaning “Glory.” Having been made pure by the mercy of God, the assembly expresses its intention to carry out an act of worship. In the Bible there are five cultic verbs: Praise, Bless, Adore, Glorify, and Thank. Do you recognize these verbs in the great hymn that is part of the Introductory Rite? As the hymn goes on, a simple Creed expresses the Holy Trinity. You alone are the Holy One. You alone are the Lord. You alone are the most high-Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit in the Glory of God the Father. After that, the Introductory Rite ends with a prayer that affirms how we pray and why we pray: through Christ our Lord.

So, with that fresh in our minds, we must ask and wonder what it means spiritually. The answer, to put it briefly, is that we are both a holy people and a sinful people: holy by reason of the one who is in our midst and sinful by reason of what we have done and what we have failed to do. Humanity’s misery stands face to face with God’s mercy here. It’s like that woman caught in adultery. There she is standing before the Lord of mercy. The work of the Liturgy to come is to resolve that conflict. In our usual way of thinking everything is about us, the thought has developed that Liturgy or “Liturgia” in Greek refers to the words we say or what we do in ritual worship.  Maybe we need to get over ourselves because, it also refers to the work of God and what God is doing. Instead of being all concerned about what we do and how well we do it, we might shift our thought to what God is doing which is far more important. Thinking of Liturgy as the work of God among us, as Benedict says in his rule, changes our whole perspective and perhaps our attitude about and our presence in the Liturgy. As I said at the beginning, God is doing something here. Pay attention.

An element in the Penitential Act that is more often ignored than observed is silence. It is essential. It must be austere, intense, and severe. It ought to last long enough to make us feel uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable because we want to get things moving, but uncomfortable because we are in shame. When I am presiding, I take this moment seriously. Why not take it seriously? I want God to take me seriously. I take God seriously. I once overheard of the servers at the last parish I served say to another one: “He must have a lot of sins to remember!” When that silence does conclude with the Confiteor or a litany of God’s merciful qualities, there comes a blessing prayer in which the attributes of mercy, compassion and holiness are expressed by invoking the name of the Lord. This is not absolution.

At this point then, it is necessary to resolve a confusion that often arises over this Penitential Act and the Rite of Reconciliation. We cannot reduce to a simple recited formula the powerful work of God moving a person to conversion and repentance. The Sacrament of Penance expects a period of conversion and penance. The naming of the sin, the recognition and the claiming of the consequences of specific sin, is the journey we might call Reconciliation.

It took me a long time to see it, so I’ll bet that most of you have never noticed that the only time Jesus reads the Scriptures is in the context of the Liturgy. He’s in the synagogue and he takes up the scroll. In the synagogue during the prayer it happens. In Luke’s Gospel, the ministry of Jesus begins with that scene, an act of worship. His first public act is liturgical in the synagogue not in the Temple. What happens in that synagogue is the institution of the Liturgy of the Word. What happens in an upper room is the institution of the Eucharistic Liturgy. Both moments of Institution happen in the same way and with the same words. “He took in his hands.” First, he took the scroll of the Prophet in his hands. Then he takes the bread and cup in his hands.

The Second Vatican Council proclaimed that it is Christ who speaks when the Scriptures are read in the church. For me, that is one of the most important and profound messages of the Council. When we read the Scriptures in the assembly, it is Christ proclaiming the Good News once again. If we really believed that, how could we sit back and not be on the edge of our seats with eyes and ears wide open. Jesus Christ is speaking to us right then and there. This is not some “back in the day” moment when we are recalling something Jesus said once long ago. It is now. Jesus Christ is speaking to us right now in this place. This is the living Word of God, not some old diary or journal entry made 2,000 years or so ago. Think for a moment what effect this reality should have on the reader both in terms of their appearance, their preparation, and the sound of their voice.

We must notice another detail in Luke’s Gospel. He writes: “And Jesus went to the synagogue on the Sabbath.” He did not go into an empty room. He went into the midst of a people gathered together. This is not just describing a physical action like walking into a room. It means convening together with the believers in the same place in order to be a member of the gathering. For a Christian to enter a church, for every believer to enter his place of worship, means entering into and becoming part of a people’s entire history of faith. It means choosing to be a member of the historical body, present and past, of the community of believers. See how this anticipates and foretells the Mystery of Faith. God’s plan is to gather all people together through, with, and in Jesus Christ. It becomes a kind of sign of what is to come. So, the assembly gathered in worship is a sign of what is to come. Look around and use that gift we call, “imagination.” To summarize this simply, the assembly is the place where God continues to speak to us and Jesus proclaims the Good News. And so, when we hear the Gospel proclaimed, some event in the past is not being recalled as though it was history. The work of God through Jesus Christ is made present now. The assembly is essential. I came to this realization when I learned some time ago that to this day, in every synagogue of the world, the scroll of the Law may not be removed from the Arc unless there are ten adult men present. It is not enough for the book of the Law to be present and read. It is absolutely necessary that there be people present to hear it. Here is the difference between a Scripture Study class and the proclamation of the Word of God in the Liturgy.

This reality has implications regarding the assembly. They are there to listen not to read. It is about hearing, not about reading. It means that they ought to be able to hear which says something about a sound system and about the one who speaks. There are details in Luke’s Gospel that give us even more to attend to. The attendant hands the scroll to Jesus who is the lector. The scroll is not his property. In fact, to make the point more clearly, Luke tells us that when he finished, he handed the scroll back to the attendant. That scroll belongs to the community on whose behalf the attendant acts. The community is the care taker. So, in the Christian assembly, the lector receives from the church the Sacred Text to read. They do not bring their own. The book is on the ambo because it belongs to the church. When finished, the lector leaves it there because it is in the keeping of the assembly just as the Eucharist is in the care of the church. One other thing to note from Luke’s Gospel. When Jesus received the scroll, he read from the passage assigned for the day it tells us. He did not just pick out something he wanted to preach on or read. It is the same for the Lector in the Liturgy. They read the passage assigned by the church for the day. In reference to the lector, Saint Benedict had this to say, and I sometimes wonder how we could have ignored it: “No one shall presume to read or sing unless he is able to benefit the hearers; let this be done with humility seriousness, and reverence, and at the abbot’s bidding.”Watch this, remember, and think about this the next time you are at Mass. Those Sacred Scriptures are ours. God has given us his word. Think of that the next time you hear the words: “and the Word was made flesh.”

In the First Testament Book of Nehemiah another important element is passed on to us, the visibility of the Book of the Law of the Lord. In the 8th chapter it says: “Ezra brought the law before the assembly. The scribe Ezra stood on a wooden platform that had been made for the purpose. Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, and when he opened it, all the people stood up. Then Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, “Amen. Amen.” lifting up their hands. Then they bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.”

What is important here is the book must be seen before it is heard. The people express their faith because to be before the book of the law is to be before the Lord. It is a ritual action manifesting the presence of God in the midst of the people. Even today in a synagogue this ritual gesture is repeated. Before it is read, the scroll is held up open for the people to see, and then it is carried through the assembly as the people venerate it and sing. We declare by this gesture that the book belongs to all who have free access to the word of salvation. And so, when the reading is finished, the book stays where it is, where it belongs where all the people have access to it.

When it comes to the Book of the Gospels, the Good News, even more attention and more ritual behavior is evident. The Book itself is beautiful. It is always to be treated with great reverence. It is not tucked under the arm to carry around. It is held high, brought through the assembly, and it is enthroned on the altar which is free of any other object at this point.  It has the same dignity as the Eucharistic gifts. It is not just an object used it in worship. It is an object of worship. Again, the Second Vatican Council put it this way: “The Christian is nourished by the Bread of Life …from the one table of the Word of God and the Body of Christ.” That is why the Gospel Book is on the altar – it will feed us. “Not on bread alone does one live, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.” In the Eastern churches, the Book of the Gospels is enthroned on the altar even outside the liturgical celebrations. It is always there just as the Eucharistic consecrated elements are always in the tabernacle. 

When it is time to feed the people with the Good News, the book is taken from the altar just as the Body and Blood of Christ are taken from the altar when it is time to feed the people. Remember these words from John 6, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” But just verses before that he says: “Anyone who hears my word has eternal life.” We cannot overlook that the Gospel is lifted up from the altar. Ultimately every Gospel leads to the proclamation of the Passion. The Gospel and the Cross cannot be separated, and for that reason, we sign ourselves at the time of the Gospel’s proclamation because this is the book of the crucified.

Tying all of this together I want to point out an interesting little part of this ritual that is too often ignored or just passed over without any question when we should be asking the question a child asks at the Passover: “What does this mean?” Just before communion begins, there is a little one-line verse often ignored. Why is it there and what does it mean? At the heart of the Eucharistic celebration, at the moment we receive the body and blood of the Lord, the Liturgy reminds us of the intimate relationship between the Book of the Gospels and the altar, between the Word and Eucharist. That’s where something called, “The Communion Antiphon” comes in, and what it does. It is a moment, just as communion is about to begin which is why it is called an “Antiphon” meaning that it comes “before.” 

In the 13th century, the reception of communion by the faithful disappeared. With it disappeared the Communion Chant. Only the antiphon remained. A fragment of what it once was, it still reminds us that there is a connection between being fed and nourished by the Word and being fed and nourished by the Bread of Life. That little fragment is spoken or sung over, so to speak, the Eucharistic bread and chalice so that the broken bread and the broken word form a single reality in the sacrament. Hearing a verse from the Gospel of the day just proclaimed reinforces the unity of the table of Christ and the Bread of Life. That verse becomes an invitation to enter into deeper communion with God. But even more so, it says that the Gospel is fully realized only through the communion in the body and blood of Christ. Think of it this way: Pope Gregory the Great commented on the Emmaus story saying, “They…recognized in the breaking of the bread the God they did not know as he explained the Sacred Scriptures.”

Let’s turn our attention now to the gifts. There is here an unmistakable ritual act There is a definite ethical dimension to this act. If you want to really get to the roots of this, the 26th Chapter of Deuteronomy will take you there. It calls into question the right to possess. It is an act of Thanksgiving that acknowledges both the obligations of those gifted and their responsibility for those who are without. This action of the Liturgy is not just a way to get the dishes to the altar. In Deuteronomy, all of the demands about tithing are there to make certain that the poor do not have to beg. 

Saint Augustine insists that when we make an offering, we are offering ourselves. This rite of presentation directly involves the faithful who are present even though only two or three may actually bring the gifts to the altar. This is in obedience to the Law of Moses (Deuteronomy 16) “No believer may come before the altar with empty hands, because the vocation of every person is to offer the world to God by her own hands.” When you realize that this is the law of Moses, you might begin to question how that law can be dismissed while Murder, Stealing, Lying, and Adultery get to be such big things. Who makes the priorities? This presentation of the gifts is a priestly act that demonstrates the priestly character of all the Baptized. These gifts represent us. It is we who are placed on that altar, it is we who are sanctified by and through these gifts which, by the power of the Holy Spirit will soon become the Body of Christ.

Let’s think about what is offered: bread, wine, and water, but let’s do so because these are the elements Christ took into his hands. The prayer said by the priest is remarkable. “Blessed are you, Lord”. That is an acclamation and an affirmation of faith in the Blessedness of God. We are not “blessing something”. It is not the Bread and Wine that are blessed, but the God of the Universe, the God of all creation. When you stop to think about it, bread is extraordinary. Every culture has some form of bread as its staple. It is the most basic of foods, and everywhere it is a metaphor for food. To lack bread means to lack food to lack that on which we depend to live and without it we die.

Unlike bread, there is the wine which is not a principle of sustenance. We can live without wine. Yet, wine adds an element of gratuity and suggests a feast. It is a drink of joy and pleasure. It is call to community and festivity and it promotes a spirit of joy and fellowship. So, these two elements, bread and wine are the signs of human life, signs of work and signs of play, fatigue and joy, need and excess. I bake bread every week. I never buy bread in the store. When I started, I noticed that my bread would last about four days before mold begins to grow. I also noticed that bread from the store might last two weeks leaving me to wonder what chemical is in that long-lasting bread. So, out of some caution and some doubt that my life would be prolonged by that chemical, I have been baking a loaf about every five days. In doing so, I have begun to reflect and pray as I do so. It strikes me very powerfully, that the dough in my hands is alive. It rises, it eats the sugars in the grain and produces gasses that lift up the dough making what at first is heavy light and fragrant. Then I bake it, and it dies. Then I eat what has died and I live. It is a spiritual revelation worth turning you into domestic bakers. Try it.

Now for the Eucharist. There are other gifts to relieve the suffering of the poor. To me, this makes the Eucharist a source of social transformation, and the source and power for that transformation is here in this ritual of sharing, out of duty and gratitude. It adds another dimension to the Eucharist that makes it the food of charity. If it is the Bread of Life, then it is also the Bread of Love. There is a connection between sacramental practice and the practice of justice. What is not shared is wasted. Our Sacred Liturgy offers a challenge to the church in the world. In a society dominated by the strongest among us, the Eucharist is a real threat. In a society where individualism triumphs, the Eucharist reminds us of the common destiny of all humanity. In a society where waste prevails, the Eucharist is a call to share. The Eucharist forges a theology of charity, for charity is a mystery that is both sacramental and prophetic. The Eucharist is just as social as theological. It is where the ethic of service is rooted. The truth is, there can be no communion with God without sharing with our brothers and sisters. To receive communion is to be a communion. 

Maybe at this point we should think about this communion to which we belong. How the church prays determines what the church is. Consider this, there are three successive movements that make up the dynamic of a liturgical assembly – which is the Church. 

God calls his people together. God speaks to his people. God enters into a covenant with this people. The origin of every Liturgy is the call of God and response of the people. The first liturgical action is the response and gathering of the people.

John Chrysostom has some fascinating and enlightening comments about the Greek word: ekklesia. I get side tracked sometimes by words, especially nouns and verbs. Ekklesia is a noun composed of the preposition ek, which means from and the verb, “kaleo” which means call. Therefore, ekklesia is “the convocation”, the “call forth from” that leads us to understand ekklesia as those called together.

Now, back to Chrysostom. He says that the ekklesia is not the bishop’s house but the house of God’s people. With that he instructs in this way, “The Bishop is not to greet those who gather there like the head of a house might greet guests. Christians who gather in assembly are not the guests of the one who presides. Rather, they are gathered in their own house because the Church is the common home of all.”

The one who presides is also a member of the assembly. He too comes in response to the call of God to gather. He too confesses his sins, hears the Word of God proclaimed, offers thanksgiving and is nourished by the body and blood of the Lord in order to become, with the members of the community he serves, one body in Christ. What I think is important to point out here is that the Liturgy does not begin with the opening song or the sign of the cross. It begins with God calling together the people and the people responding to this call by gathering in assembly.

What makes an assembly an ekklesia is the Word of God. Hearing the Word of God is what made Israel “the people of God.” This is why God says through the Prophet, Jeremiah, (7,23) “This command I gave them, obey my voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be my people.” It is the proclamation of the Word of God that gives birth to the church. This means that the assembly is the home of the Word. For that reason, the Ambo is the special place of the Scriptures. Observe this. The book is not held in the hands of the lector, because it does not belong to the lector. It is placed on the ambo and it remains there even when the assembly disperses. We are saying something by this behavior. Is anyone listening we might wonder?

At the same time what makes an assembly an ekklesia is also at the same time what makes an ekklesia is an assembly. That’s not doubletalk. This begins to unfold for us in the Epistle to the Hebrews chapter 10,” Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me.” This is not simply a reference to the historical body of Jesus but the body that is the church, the people God has gathered through him. Since the day of Pentecost, the work of the Holy Spirit has been to continue the mission of Christ, the gathering of the dispersed children of God giving the people a new covenant. The close connection between the Holy Spirit and the Eucharist cannot be ignored. The end purpose to which Christians are called in assembly is the body of Christ. The transformation of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ by the action of the Holy Spirit is not, in fact, an end in itself; rather, the gifts are transformed so that those who eat them may become what they receive.

The church cannot be satisfied with having the Eucharist. It is not something to be possessed. The Eucharist serves no purpose if it remains simply an object to be possessed and adored. The church, however, is called to become the Eucharistic body of the Lord. To receive communion is to be a communion. When we understand that the purpose of the Eucharist is to make us one body, a communion of brothers and sisters in faith, we will no longer view our participation in the Sunday assembly as a matter of obligation but rather as the expression of our identity. Being there is what makes us Catholic or Christian. If you’re not there, you can’t claim that identity. This is why we take great care to see that those who are too sick to be present must receive Holy Communion. Through no fault on their own are they absent. To make certain that they stay in communion, we reach out to them through the ministry of Extraordinary Ministers uniting them to the liturgy and to Christ and the Church. It is most important that this happen when the assembly is gathered together. Their sending forth is a powerful sign to all of us that some are missing, and as Jesus sought out the sick who, often because of their illness had been banned from Synagogue, we too as the Body of Christ still seek those who are missing to strengthen the bond we have through communion.

Night 1 on Sunday, February 13, 2024

Night 1 of 3 at St Finbarr in Naples, FL

The Roman Rite Mass and Language of Ritual Part One

I don’t know what drove us to this point, but I know we’ve been here before. The Liturgy, the Worship of the Church, has become a lightning rod, an explosive source of controversy and tension that is always a threat to the very unity of the Church which it should be strengthening. In July 2022, our Holy Father, exposed the reality of this fact by a firm and decisive document about the importance of the reforms for the Roman Rite decreed by the Ecumenical Council. His predecessors, fearful of breaking up the church over the refusal of some to accept the Decree of the Council allowed for some use of the old, Pre-Council Liturgy, with the hope that gradually, the church would come together. It did not work. The furor that erupted in reaction to the decision of Pope Francis should be all we need as evidence that as a church we are already broken. The Liturgy itself may not actually have been the only issue, since we are living again through days and years both politically, socially, religiously, and personally that could not be expressed any more clearly than Frank Sinatra did with his a wildly popular song: “I did it my way.” When I asked a priest a year or so ago why he wanted to celebrate Mass in Latin using the old form, his response was: “Because I can.” That was the end of our conversation. I should have come back with a response that I thought of later, but you know how it is: you think of things after it’s too late. I should have said, “Excuse me, I don’t like the possessive pronoun It’s not your liturgy, nor is that parish your church. It’s God’s and you can’t do what you want with it, even if you can. You can’t kill someone even if you can. You can’t stand on one leg to give out Holy Communion even if you can.” (Story about Mom at her parish.)

What I hope you will take from the time we spend together these next two nights is a greater and deeper respect and reverence for what we do knowing why we do it. It is my opinion that those who long for the old Mass often are heard to say that it has more mystery and more reverence. That comment always gets this old red-head a bit fired up. I resent the suggestion that what I do at the altar is in any way lacking in reverence. I feel the same way defensive of the people who gather with me. Quite honestly, the reformed Liturgy as we now have it could very well stand some serious attention when it comes to respect and a spiritual sense of what we we’re doing. I hope that’s why you’ve come here tonight. Many of us can easily remember the 12-minute Latin Mass of our childhood. That was hardly spiritual, reverent, or mysterious. It was fast and efficient. I firmly believe that when we begin to take the sacred Liturgy seriously, pay attention to what we are doing, and become more attentive to what God is doing, the real tradition will be recognized and embraced because what has been restored and emphasized by the reforms of the Second Vatican Council is more traditional than what we did before 1968.

I have no illusions that our time together will change anything that is noticeable or maybe that even matters. Yet, I have thought my way into these talks because the Sacred Liturgy of the Church, and that means all of the sacraments must be for us the ultimate school of prayer. The Liturgy of the Church is our source of life. My own opinion, for what it’s worth, is that after the reforms of the Council in the 1960s all we did was change the language, move the furniture around, and learn a few new songs of dubious quality. In other words, we have spent a long time tinkering with the superficial things. Some insist that the Council broke the traditions of the Church. That is a superficial and silly idea of “tradition” which betrays a confusion of tradition and custom. It takes some thought to determine what is a “tradition” and what is a custom. They are not the same. Bread and Wine is the tradition. Gold, wooden, or clay cups is a custom. In war, there is never a winner, and any illusion that we have to “win” is a perfect sign that a disaster is coming. If we are going to survive the cultural wars that have found a place within the Body of Christ, we are must finally dig into the Spiritual meaning, and pay attention to the gestures, and words we use to respond to the Covenant God has offered us. It might be about time to stop being so preoccupied by what we do and open ourselves to what God is doing in the Liturgy. To people in RCIA who are approaching their first celebration of Reconciliation I have often said: “Stop being anxious about what you are going to say and do, and spend at least as much time on what you hope God will say and do for you.” And so, I ask you the question, “When is the last time you approached this parish Sunday assembly wondering and thinking about what God may be planning to do and say?” 

Every now and then I hear someone complaining that it’s so noisy in church before Mass they can’t pray. When I hear that, I know that someone is quite confused and does not seem to know what they are doing or why they have come to church. Last Wednesday, we heard a very clear instruction about prayer that should not be confined to Lent. “Go to your room and shut the door” is what we heard. Prayer is an experience of intimacy with God. It is unique to each of us. It is private. It can be intense or casual. We all need to get something clear in our minds. We come to church to worship – that is not the same experience as prayer. By its very nature, worship is noisy. It is a gathering of God’s people at God’s command, and that gathering is noisy from words of greetings, to crying babies, to the banging of kneelers to the shuffling of feet or the scraping of walkers moving in a steady procession down the aisle toward the source of life. 

In some ways, worship as liturgy is a refined taste. That’s different from prayer, and by prayer, I’m not talking about reciting memorized words. I mean a real heart to heart talk with God, with the risen Lord, or why not with his mother? It can mean complaining, whining, or laughing in gratitude. It can also mean just being quiet. After all, if it’s a conversation, you better shut up and take a breath so the other can say something in response.

There is a very important moment in the Sacred Liturgy that expresses exactly why we get together in the church. I’ll bet you have forgotten all about it, and I’m here to remind you of what you say. The priest says to you: Let’ us pray that my sacrifice and yours will be acceptable to God our almighty Father. And what do you say? “May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of his name, four our good and the good of all his holy Church”. Why are you there? For the praise and the glory of God’s name. We do not come into the Church to get something. Every weekend I see people who don’t get it. They come to get, not to give. They come to “get communion.” As soon as they do, they’re out the door. The purpose of worship, the work of the liturgy, is give glory to God, to praise God, to thank God. We don’t come to “get” communion. We are present in order to enter into communion, and we don’t do that by racing out the door. We are not there to get points, to avoid sin, or think for one minute that we can stand before God and claim a place in the Kingdom of Heaven by saying, “I never missed Mass.” To that God will say what the 25th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel tell us: “When I was hungry did you give me anything to eat?” We are not going to bargain or bribe our way into the Reign of God.

Liturgy is a learned set of behaviors and actions, not all of which are immediately obvious and not all of which can ever be totally explained. That is because liturgy is ritual. The rituals of our Sacred Liturgy, all say something that we need to understand, and that also means that we must understand that language. There is a consistency about ritual that allows us to be free of worry about what to do next or if we’re going to do it right. It frees us to pay more attention to what God is doing. If something breaks that consistency, if something happens that is not part of the ritual, it’s over. 

The order of the liturgy is set, the scripture readings change from day to day. Some argue today that there is too much flexibility and that we should return to “one Roman Rite.” The idea that there was and should be “one” way of doing the Roman Rite is contrary to our history. That’s not true. At the risk of overgeneralizing, this means that from as early as the fourth century the liturgy as celebrated at Rome had the same structure, but there were differences between the papal liturgy and the liturgy celebrated in parishes. “One size fits all” has never been the case when it comes to the Roman or Western Latin Rite. For one thing, the rites have to fit the space. What works in a Gothic church of France would be silly in East Naples at Saint Finbarr. Rites have to be celebrated within a culture as well as a building, and that might mean different garments, different instruments, different movements. 

At the same time, it can be said that “one structure fits all” in the sense that the eucharistic liturgy always has the same basic outline: Gathering, Introductory Rites, Liturgy of the Word, Presentation of Gifts, Eucharistic prayer, Communion, and Dismissal. For me, liturgy is never understandable or comprehensible. In fact, the liturgy always articulates and enacts what is incomprehensible, astounding, and even fascinating. Rituals are part of our lives. We use them all the time because rituals are our way of expressing something when words are inadequate. I see it all the time, I do it all the time. I just saw it Saturday at the airport. An older man got out of car, and boy who may have been about 6 or 7 got out with what I assumed were his parents. The little guy ran up to the old man and threw his arms around the old man with tears in his eyes, and the old man bent down, ruffled that child’s hair and kissed him on the top of his head. That was a ritual. It was an action that expressed something that words could not express. Contrary to what some young people might say, rituals are not boring. Boredom is a condition of the brain. It is the consequence of a failed imagination. I am never bored. I have suffered through the longest most ridiculous inconsequential meetings that you could ever imagine, and I’ve never been bored. I have rearranged the furniture in the room, changed the pictures on the wall and counted the ceiling tiles because I have imagination. It takes imagination to enter into Liturgy and Worship. It takes imagination to pray too. It’s not that God is a figment of one’s imagination meaning that we make it up. It’s that we have to imagine the God that Jesus has revealed to us, the God he called, Abba.

Liturgical rites are comprised of a number of things, and should engage all of our senses. They are not simply speaking the right words over the right elements to produce predetermined results. Liturgy is always an astounding and complex collection of ideas, images, sights, sounds, silences, people, ministers, building, and much more all of which contribute to a multisensory and multidimensional experience. A good liturgy ought to wear you out. It ought to be an almost over-load of experience. Understanding what occurs is always secondary to experiencing what occurs in and through the liturgy. Every liturgy is a unique and particular experience. When we gather every Sunday, it’s always different because things have happened to us during the week. We’re different than we were the week before unless you live in some kind of bubble frozen in time. While in every act of liturgy we use what we have used before: texts, rites, gestures, music, and so forth, no act of liturgy is ever repeated or the same if for no other reason that we are never the same. 

The purpose of Liturgy is the sanctification of people and through the holiness of life one gives glory to God. It is odd to me that for nearly a generation, we have been ready to draw nourishment for our spiritual lives from the Sacred Scriptures. We have not been taught in a similar way to draw that nourishment from the Sacred Liturgy. God speaks and acts through the Liturgy just as much as God speaks and acts through the Scriptures. 

Saint Benedict never uses the word Liturgy in his rule that has guided so many praying and worshiping communities for so long. The wisdom of his rule is not just for monks and nuns. The wisdom of his rule if learned, practiced and followed in families would transform life in this world. The very first word that begins the Holy Rule is, ‘Listen.” What do you think it would like in your home if everyone followed that rule? As I said, Benedict never uses the word “Liturgy” in his rule when encouraging and instructing on prayer. In its place, he refers to the “Opus Dei”, the “Work of God.” It is not by chance that the Eastern Churches refer to the Sacred Liturgy as, “The Divine Liturgy.” Isn’t that saying a lot more than calling our worship, “Mass?” If you go to “The Divine Liturgy”, you know immediately who’s in charge and who is doing something. Our Liturgy is not what we do. It is the work of God, that accomplishes what it signifies. Saint Paul writes in almost every Epistle about the “mystery” of God. For Paul the “mystery” is God’s plan to gather up all things in Christ. Start thinking about that, ponder it, pull it apart the next time you hear a priest rise from his knee and say: “The Mystery of Faith.” It does not mean it’s a secret, because the secret has been revealed, God’s plan. It is Jesus Christ who reveals the mystery of God. That’s the mystery of faith: Jesus Christ! 

The Greeks believed mystery was something that remained hidden, could not be spoken of, and was beyond comprehension. This is exactly the opposite of the Judeo-Christian understanding of mystery. How I wish Sister Mary Everlasting would have known and understood that. Instead, what many of us grew up with was that firm and authoritative announcement: “It’s a mystery” every time we asked a question about what something meant or why we did something in church. Because of Jesus Christ, the secret, the mystery has been revealed. We do know what God is doing. Nothing reveals the mystery of God more than the words and actions of Jesus. Think about that scene on Easter evening with those disappointed and discouraged disciples going to Emmaus. They were going the wrong way! Jesus opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and revealed the mystery at table with bread and wine. With that, knowing the plan of God, they turned around and went the right way – back to the company of the other believers in Jerusalem. 

The link between the Scriptures and the Liturgy is absolutely essential, and we do something that makes it obvious. At the beginning of the Liturgy, the Gospel is to be carried solemnly, in the grand gesture of being held high before the entire assembly until reaching the altar, the heart of the assembly. It is then enthroned on the altar becoming a kind of Epiphany. The very Word of God passes through the people of God. It is a kind of Incarnation. The Word is within us. The Word of God takes flesh and remains in the flesh of God’s people. We put that Word on the altar, the place of sacrifice. It is the place of offering, because Jesus Christ offers himself. In Christ, the word of God becomes not just a body but a body offered, a total gift of self. The epiphany, the revelation, is there in the gesture of putting the Gospel on the altar. We cannot just walk up there and put the book down like a picture book on your coffee table. That act is the beginning of the celebration. It is like an icon that manifests the unity that exists between the Scripture and the mystery of the altar, the Eucharist.

Those of you familiar with the Passover ritual might remember that a child asks a question at the beginning. “What does this mean?” With that, the Passover rite begins. I think we need to keep asking that question every time we assemble for the Liturgy. “What does this mean?” I always think that those who participate in the Liturgy without knowing the mystery are like a dancer who dances without knowing the music or rhythm. We must never quit pondering the mystery narrated by the Scriptures and celebrated in the Liturgy. The Liturgy is like a dance that moves, interprets and anticipates the story of our salvation as told in the Sacred Scriptures.

“Back in the day, I love to say that now that I’m retired, the seminary I attended required a half semester workshop with the drama teacher. At first some of us scoffed at the idea until the very first week, when Father Gavin spoke to us about Liturgy as Drama. In that class we learned about “blocking” which is what happens at an early stage of preparation for a play. Where people stand, how they move, what they do with their hands, where they look, and how they walk is all part of that. I remember the day in that class when he had us watch a video of a marching band out on a football field going through their drill for a half-time show. The precision of it to the day amazes. Every member of the band knows where they must stand and how to move from place to place without bumping into others. He spoke to us about space and how to move from one place to another. (Tell the story about Communion Ministers at Saint Peter and Saint William).

So, my friends, for the next two nights, I want to explore with you the mystery of faith. My hope is that in doing so, you may begin to gather for the liturgy with some excitement and some wonder about what God has in store, would like to say, and might do with you rather than coming because you have to, just because you always have, or because you’re afraid that as Sister Mary Everlasting told you that you would burn in hell if you didn’t go. 

Just as I explained what we are doing with and why that great book is carried through the assembly and enthroned, not put down, but enthroned on the altar, I will tease out the movements that make up the sign language we use in rituals. I need your imaginations to wake up. I need for you to wonder why and begin to connect your head and your heart. I hope that you will begin to find a new motive and a new experience in prayer as you explore the rite and rituals that speak about something too profound to real and to divine to speak of. If you want to do that, God willing, I’ll be right here tomorrow night. If you have time, you might take a few minutes to prepare and read very slowly and carefully thinking about each word in Eucharistic Prayer Two or Three. You can find them on line, in a Missal, or Hymnal. It is a very different experience to read or say those words yourself rather than just hear some priest proclaiming them.

LISTENING TO MARK PART THREE

Three Parts: 

1 The Ministry in and around Galilee (1:14 to 8:26) Pages 1 to 7

2 The Journey to Jerusalem (11 to 13) Pages 7 to 14

3 The Passion (14 to 15) Pages 15 to 21

With Chapter 14, the passion narrative begins. In some ways, it is the beginning of the end. In Mark’s usual way of inserting stories within stories, the priests and scribes seek to kill Jesus, a woman anoints his body for burial, Judas seeks to betray him. This last part of the Gospel gathers up the major themes of the Gospel into a great drama that grows with intensity. There are frequent time notices given, the days preceding Passover, the watches of the night in which Jesus is betrayed, the hours of the day he died. Time is marked in smaller units and events reported in great detail as the drama builds in intensity and significance.

This is then, a continuous narrative with a coherent chronological sequence. This movement is linear. It goes from the upper room to the garden to the betrayal, on to Jewish trial and Peter’s denial to the Roman trial and condemnation, to crucifixion, death and burial. Along the way, Jesus is betrayed by Judas, let down by the inner three in the garden, abandoned by all the disciples, and on the cross seemingly abandoned by God. Three times he is mocked: at the Jewish trail, at the Roman trial, and on the cross. Only the women stand by him throughout, though at a distance. They witness his death “from afar”. They see the place where he is buried, and go to anoint him when the sabbath has past.

Until now, the Gospel has been made up almost entirely of small independent pieces loosely strung together. It will be different now. Jesus has almost always been in the company of his disciples. Now he is isolated and goes to his death alone. The fact that Jesus is without his companions, goes to his death alone, dramatically establishes the uniqueness of his way to the cross, and demonstrates that the disciple is never above or equal to his master but can only follow him in “cross bearing” at a distance. The structure is basically the same in all four Gospels with much less adaptation than the earlier parts of Mark’s Gospel. What is unique in the Gospel is that Mark does not dwell on the personal suffering or the wounds of Jesus. Instead, these two chapters emphasize interpretations of this death and its implication for being a follower in the world dominated by the brutal power of the Roman-Jerusalem alliance of elite men. Even though we can be fairly sure that there was some earlier record of the events from which they all wrote their Passion accounts, we must keep in mind that this is not biographical, and it is not history. The motive here was to uphold the innocence of Jesus and that his death was, contrary to all appearances, according to the will of God. 

As I said, many themes come together here: the rejection of Jesus by his enemies, the failure of his friends, and the unfolding revelation of his true identity and mission. His prophecies are fulfilled: He is rejected, mocked and killed by the authorities, betrayed by Judas, and denied by Peter. As Son of Man he gives his life as a “ransom” for many. Remember that the word, “ransom” does not mean a tradeoff. Jesus is not doing something so that we don’t have to. He does this for the sake of us (to show us how) not to excuse us. Throughout Jesus is still the teacher. He teaches that his inevitable death means suffering for his followers in the difficult times until his return in power. The direction of this drama moves to a climax and seems to be complete, with a stone rolled against the door of a tomb to mark the end. The burial, however, is not the end; it is just a void form which bursts a new beginning.

It’s as though there is silence at that point, but by Chapter 16, the first eight verses break the silence. The resurrection reverses the tragedy, vindicates the suffering Son of Man as Christ and Son of God, and makes the story become “Good News” (Gospel). At this point, the original Gospel ends to be completed in the lives of its readers. Some early readers, we suspect, knowing how the story came out in the mission of the apostolic church, felt compelled to round off the abrupt end. Two different endings were written, the longer of which appears and verse 9 through 20. With that summary, let’s look at these last chapters which are really not an end, but a beginning for us.

In the first verses, we get an example of how Mark inserts stories within stories. As the chapter opens, Mark reports the conspiracy in just 2 verses, then he tells of the anointing at Bethany for 9 verses, finally he returns to the conspiracy. This time it is Judas. What we get is two parts of a conspiracy, one from authorities and the other from within the disciples, Judas. While their opposition is different, Mark uses the same language as they are both “looking for a way.” There is great concern with this conspiracy. There is fear of a riot because the town is full of pilgrims and Jesus is popular.  The feast itself carried a subversive narrative concerning freedom for a subjugated people from a dominant ruling power. The leaders, in league with the Romans gambled on being able to contain the people power that the festival recalled. The Romans had no problem showing their military power intimidating locals and bolstering the morale of the elite. The time reference in the first verse adds to the suspense all building now toward the crucifixion. For Mark this adds a theological dimension by relating the death of Jesus to the Passover and the Feast of Unleavened bread.

In Mark’s usual way, we get a story within a story. The narration of the capture gets interrupted by another story. We should note that in Mark’s telling of the anointing, the woman is not identified nor is she called, “sinful.” She is simply, “a woman.” As Mark unfolds his account, the shame of it all is upon the men. The praiseworthy character is a woman. Her “alabaster jar of nard” was a globular vase made of alabaster and containing an oil extracted from the nard plant native to India. It very aromatic and very costly. The value Mark assigns to this ointment is equivalent to the annual wage of a day laborer. There is a very clear contrast here that carries through to the end. Men murder, women comfort. Hatred is contrasted to love. Judas receives money for a betrayal. She spends money for his anointing. They are at Bethany which is at the foot of the Mount of Olives. Ironically, the Mount of Olives is to be the place Zechariah announced would be the site for the return of the Son of Man. The setting is the home of a leper! In that culture, men ate alone. She breaks the taboo by crashing the party, so to speak!

There is an interesting contrast here between this woman and the person in the next episode, Judas. This unnamed woman gives up money for Jesus and enters the house to honor him. A man with a name, Judas gives up Jesus for money and leaves the house to betray him. Mark has us move from one meal to another; from the house of Simon in Bethany to another meal in Jerusalem. This section begins with another “time stamp.” It is the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, and preparations for the Feast make up the first of three elements here. The second is the prediction of betrayal while at the supper. The third is the covenant meal itself.

With this “time stamp” it is almost as though we have a countdown. Mark follows the Passover events from Exodus rather than Leviticus or Numbers which also record the events of Passover, but slightly differently. Mark, following Exodus calls this the day they sacrificed the lamb (14 Nisan) “The First Day of Unleavened Bread.” The point of indicating the time is to draw attention to the fact that Jesus died during the Jewish feast of liberation. The Passover was a celebration of Liberation much like the Fourth of July marks our independence or freedom from England. Mark insists that the last meal Jesus ate was Passover, the commemoration of God’s deliverance from bondage. The whole description in Mark affirms the Jewish heritage of Jesus and his followers. They were doing it right.

Finding a place for the supper is significant. It is possible that Jesus had made these arrangements ahead of time, but far more likely, this is Mark’s way of showing that God orders this event. With morning preparations complete, there is a shift in time and place. Mark tells us that it is now evening (Thursday = Nisan 15), so Passover has begun, and they are at supper. The focus now sifts to the “the Twelve”, and there are two incidents at the supper. The first has to do with the betrayer. The second focuses on Jesus and his relationship to the disciples, and by his action and words Jesus interprets his impending death and points to the coming of the Kingdom. The verse, “I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” We cannot miss the verbs: took, blessed, broke, gave. Already by Mark’s time, these words were shaping the action of the Eucharist. The word, “Cup” is used by Mark, not “wine” with symbolic significance. This use shows up three times in the Gospel. 1) when James and John seek first places, 2) at Gethsemane, and 3) here at the supper. In all three texts, God gives the cup which is the cup of death related to the blood of the covenant. When at table Jesus speaks of MY blood, he is establishing a new covenant. There is here, an interruption of the normal ritual of this meal. When Jesus speaks these words, they are not the “right” words, and this departure from the tradition surely got the attention of the disciples. There is something new happening here. 

They leave the Passover singing – usually Psalm 118 which begins: “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good,”  and at the end comes these words: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” So, they go much as they came in, but with a note of victory and the glory to come.

They leave Jerusalem for the Mount of Olives where three events occur. 1) The prediction of abandonment, 2) Peter’s denial, 3) the arrest. The drama narrows to the three leading disciples on the one hand and Jesus on the other. Peter makes his brave promise to share in the death of Jesus. Clearly, he has not listened nor understood what is to come.  The repeated warnings to be watchful and awake have fallen on deaf ears. He falls asleep. It is interesting to note that when Jesus rebukes Peter, he does not use his new name, Peter. He calls him by the name of his old life, “Simon.”  The three Jesus has taken with him, Peter, James and John, were there for the raising of a dead girl, the transfiguration, and teaching on the Mount of Olives. Jesus instructs them to stay awake, using the same verb as in the parable of the absent and unexpectedly returning master. Three appears three times. Being awake, or watchful or vigilant, will be a key quality for followers in the absence of Jesus. They fail.

As Mark tells the story, Jesus has no martyr complex. It is a contest between human will and the will of the Father. It is the will of Jesus that the cup pass. He does not want to be put to the test. He wants some other way to fulfill God’s purpose for him. This is a dramatic and powerful struggle. With great distress and anxiety, Mark tells us that Jesus “Threw himself on the ground.” This is a terrifying scene. Jesus is utterly alone. Yet, he refuses to abandon the will of the God, and the die is cast, and he says: “Enough.” It is over.

Several key terms give this passage some power. WATCH, HOUR, CUP, PRAY. All of these terms get deeper and more powerful significance than they have on the surface. Then, “Suddenly,” Mark says the betrayer is at hand, and the action shifts from a lonely struggle to a mob scene which includes a crowd sent by the religious authorities, Judas, Jesus, the whole group of disciples, and mysterious young man. For Mark Jesus behaves with fearless human dignity. His courage and words are in stark contrast with the behavior of others in the scene. He stands as a model for the church when under persecution.

The kiss from Judas is more than a common greeting. He calls Jesus, “Rabbi” thereby indicating that he is a disciple. No disciple would ever kiss the Rabbi. It is an insulting break of tradition. There is no respectful friendship here. There is a break in their relationship. Insult is followed by violence. A disciple standing by strikes off the ear of the high priest’s slave with a sword. Mark does not name Peter as the disciple. Only John’s Gospel does so. In this Gospel, Mark shows us how useless and ineffective violence is. What’s really important is that the disciples fled the scene. The anonymous “young man” darts into the action long enough to leave his clothes behind and run off naked. Who is this? Why is this reported? Since the earliest times and the oldest commentators, there have been every sort of guess imaginable. The answer is: We don’t know. 

Mark’s style and his way of telling a story with another story inside is at its best here. The trial scene is set within the account of Peter’s denial so that each story interrupts the other. It is a mistake to call this a “trial,” at least with our ideas of justice.  This is misleading. Imperial dynamics do not permit a “fair trial.”  Jesus is a Galilean peasant in their eyes, aman of low status against the local powers. What happens before the highest council of Judaism, the Sanhedrin is not a “trial”. There is a presumption of guilt.  The procedure is strictly followed as set by the book of Numbers and Deuteronomy. This why there must be two witnesses. Of course, the whole thing is irregular because the verdict is predetermined and the evidence is false. However, in their eyes, he is guilty. He did speak blasphemy, and he did mix politics with religion which is treason. There are two charges against Jesus: He claimed he would destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days; and he claimed to be the Christ, the Son of God. 

At no point in this Gospel does Jesus claim that he would destroy the Temple, or that in three days he would build another. In spite of this, those mocking Jesus on the cross refer to this false claim. The silence of Jesus to this first charge increases the tension in which the high priest puts the second crucial question: “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” Even though Peter and demons have said it was so, Jesus has never claimed either title for himself. Now, with the drama of the Passion underway with no longer any possibility for the crowd to misunderstand the meaning of his claim, Jesus answers: “I am.” At this point in the drama, there should be a thunder clap or a roll of the drums. He said; “I AM.” This is what Moses heard at the burning bush. This is a claim to the Divine Identity, and it seals his fate. It is a moment of courage, something said at the cost of his condemnation. This is blasphemous. What’s more, the whole expectation for a Messiah is thrown into question now. How could this Galilean possibly be a Messiah? This is not what they expected, and they refused the plan of God. He and his idea are condemned. They will not have it or have him.

Immediately Mark switches the story to Peter and his denial. By doing so, he contrasts the behavior of Jesus when accused and that of Peter. Jesus shows courage. Peter shows cowardice. Jesus is upstairs questioned by the High Priest. Peter is downstairs questioned by a servant of the High Priest. Jesus confesses his identity and future role that will bring down the status quo. Peter denies knowing Jesus. For the persecuted community to whom Mark is first writing, there is a message. Jesus loses his life through steadfast witness ultimately saving his life. Peter tries to save his life but loses it by avoiding the way of the cross and being ashamed of Jesus. None the less, he wept. Is it over an opportunity lost, or is it the beginning of repentance leading to a hope reborn? 

Another Chapter and another “trial” begins. The power of the Chief Priests, Elders, and Scribes, those, so-called-authorities is really not power at all, so they turn to Roman and Pilate. Mark tells us that they “handed him over” to Pilate using the same words Jesus used in his prediction of what would happen. What is revealed here is a very dangerous social alliance between the occupied and the occupiers. There is an alliance of power here determined to keep things as they are. There is to be no change especially if it costs them their power and privilege. It is misleading to see Pilate as a weak and spineless character who is the victim of Jewish pressure and forced against his will to crucify Jesus whom he thinks is “innocent.” Rome did not appoint weak and spineless governors. He is wise and astute here balancing several factors. He knows that if his allies see Jesus as a threat he must also be a threat to Pilate. Yet, he can’t give in to their demands instantly or he looks weak. Instead, he conducts a poll manipulating the crowd making them beg for crucifixion. He makes them dependent upon him elevating his power. 

The same pattern is used before Pilate: interrogation, condemnation, mockery. By setting up both trials, the rejection of Jesus is complete, both by religious authorities and now by civil authorities. To these two, Marks adds a third; the crowd, because Mark is interested in drawing the Civil Authorities into complicity so that both Jews and Gentiles are implicated. Now it is the fourth watch of the night, Mark tells us. Evening, midnight, cockcrow, and morning marks the passing of time in watches.  

The question asked by Pilate, “Are you the King of the Jews?” is identical in all four Gospels. This is a shift from the question of the High Priest who asks if he is the Messiah. Pilate wants to know if this is a political or civil threat. The response of Jesus: “You say so” leaves Pilate shaking his head. From that moment on, Jesus is silent and it amazes Pilate. A sub plot emerges with this trial over Barabbas. Only in Mark does the crowd take the initiative to ask for Barabbas. There is no historical evidence for this practice of releasing a prisoner at Passover. However, with this story, Mark depicts this miscarriage of justice in a way which, ironically, reveals the supreme truth about Jesus. Though sinless, he dies that sinners may live. 

Roman governors needed one skill above all others: the ability to keep crowds quiet or under control. Pilate is good at it. When he asks if the crowd wants the King of the Jews released, he tricks the crowd into being the judge, and he looks like their benefactor when he says, “Release FOR you.” It’s also a referendum on their loyalty to Rome. If they said otherwise, they would be in big trouble. Pilate stacked the deck. So, the phrase comes again: “They led him away.” The Roman custom of whipping the condemned is fulfilled which also the prediction of Jesus and the fulfillment of what is said in Isaiah 50:6. “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.” To tie all these things together, Mark once again says: “They handed him over.” The second mockery occurs – now it’s the Gentile Roman Soldiers. A third is yet to come. Jesus goes to death as the King of the Jews. 

There is something wild about this scene showing rival authorities fighting for power. The chief priest, elders and scribes have religious authority which they can exercise only by manipulating a Roman Governor and an excitable crowd. Pilate possess all the real authority. The crowd is manipulated by the chief priest, elders, and the scribes. In the middle of this stands one quiet figure who claims no authority but shows it with quiet dignity. We, like Mark, are left to see the real king and real authority. The fundamental issue here is the true nature of authority. In contrast to authority imposed from above, this is authority that comes from obedience to the will of God. The real authority we see is not someone bossing people around or telling them what to do, but Jesus exercises authority by service, through love, thereby revealing in revolutionary terms the way the ultimate Power of the universe works.

The regal image of the King is developed very carefully in the details Mark gives us. Historical records of victorious kings returning from battle confirm the theological theme at this point in the Passion. Soldiers are present. The reference to the Praetorium or “Governor’s” headquarters evokes the Praetorian guard in triumphal processions. Jesus wears a purple robe. Historian Josephus reports that Vespasian and his son Titus were clothed in purple, and that color was worn by people of high status. Jesus wears a crown. Jesus receives derisive honor from the soldiers who hail him as the King of the Jews, and they kneel before Him. 

Everything in Marks Gospel builds toward one event told in only 21 verses, and the crucifixion in only four words without dwelling on the bodily suffering and violence of this crucifixion. A condemned person was ordinarily forced to carry one’s own cross-beam. Jesus was either not able to carry it after the whipping or refused to carry it in defiance of “customary expectations.” It was not out of the ordinary for the soldiers to requisition someone to do their work. So, Simon of Cyrene is pressed into service, perhaps unwillingly. Again, the details are few but full of meaning. Crucifixions were carried out in public areas. It was a billboard announcing Rome’s dominance. Jesus refuses “wine mixed with myrrh” offered to him. Perhaps this is a pain dulling mixture, but may also be in fidelity to his declaration that he will not drink wine until he drinks it new in the Kingdom of God. 

All through this scene, there are treads of Psalm 22, a Psalm of Lament. These Psalms typically involve three groups of characters. The first party, the psalmist, seeks to be faithful to God’s purposes in difficult circumstances through which he suffers and cries out to God for help. Then, there is a second group made up of enemies who oppose this faithful person and cause considerable suffering though hostility and unjust actions. The third character is God. From the outset, the psalmist laments or complains that God is inactive and powerless, even absent, in the midst of suffering. Then toward the end of the psalm the psalmist experiences God’s deliverance and praises God. In Psalm 22 the suffering involves physical injury, social hostility, life is in danger, bones are out of joint, dry mouth, and clothing taken and divided by lots. He complains that God has forsaken him, is distant, and does not respond to his cries. I think it is important here to remember that this is not an historical report, but a theological interpretation of the death of Christ. 

The inscription put on the cross is a reminder to anyone passing by that threats to Roman power will not end well. He is crucified with two others who threatened the Roman order. “Bandit” can also mean “rebel.” “Insurrectionist” means a terrorist. This scene of Jesus crucified with rebels on his left and right recalls the previous conversation between Jesus and John and James. They sought places of honor at the right and left of Jesus. In response to them, Jesus challenged them about sharing in his death. Ironically, they are absent. The drama is excited by time notices again. It was the third hour (9:00am). Then there was darkness from the sixth hour (Noon) until the ninth hour (3:00pm). The three hours of darkness at midday is not just a dramatic pause, but an allusion from the prophet Amos (8:9). Mark gives this whole scene a strong Roman slant stressing the fact that Gentiles finally kill him, yet a Gentile is the first after his death to recognize and proclaim a Son of God.

Themes from Mark’s whole Gospel come together here: the hostility of the religious authorities, the failure of his disciples through misunderstanding, betrayal, denial, and flight. Not a single disciple is present. Mark’s principal theme comes into focus now: Jesus Christ is King. Tried and mocked as King of the Jews, mocked as King of Israel, Jesus in Mark’s Gospel is the Messiah, King and Son of God. Women are looking on from afar doing what disciples should do, but do not.

The death of Jesus is an important mark in order to make the Resurrection so powerful. Darkness at the death of an important person was a common literary motif for mourning. Two other signs have attracted a great deal of discussion: a torn Temple Veil and a centurion’s declaration at the cross, “Truly this man was God’s Son.” 

There were two curtains in the Temple; an inner curtain separated the holy of holies from the rest of the Temple and tan outer curtain separating the Temple from the forecourt. It is not clear which one is referred to, and it probably does not matter. Some might like to interpret this as a judgement on the Temple or as the opening of access to God. The verb is in the passive “was torn” in the sense that God did the tearing. That passive voice verb was used at the Baptism of Jesus as God revealed the identity of His Son. The second sign of the centurion’s confession is the first time a human has said this. Before it was only the demons. Yet, perhaps this is a sarcastic yet ironic sneer about the crucified Jesus. Its tone is derisive. It is impossible to decide which this is. Both interpretations have value. Regardless of what the centurion meant, believers know. Rome is now given a secondary importance.

There is no avoiding or missing the point that Jesus dies abandoned by men. Mark provides a dramatic reversal by suddenly telling us that a group of women followers were present, looking on from a distance. Three are named, but it is a sizeable group. Their loyalty or their courageous presence is tempered by Mark who shows us that they “followed at a distance”. This is the same word Mark used to describe Peter’s following “at a distance.” The text suggests that these women kept vigil at the cross all day from the time of crucifixion at nine o’clock in the morning, through the noon-time darkness and his death around three in the afternoon and on to the evening removal of Jesus from the cross and his entombment which is guided by a man named, Joseph. The timing on the evening of day of Preparation before the Sabbath is noted. Joseph is introduced by his place of origin, Arimathea in Samaria. This suggests a family tomb close to Jerusalem, a family of some means. There is a sense of haste about this scene. The body is not washed or anointed, tasks women normally performed for the dead. 

Mark would have us understand very clearly: Jesus died. If he died, then he was buried. He was buried in a certain place on a certain day by a certain person or persons. It was the Preparation Day at sun down, Friday. “A respected member of the council who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God” is named “Joseph of Arimathea.” He is not called a disciple. They are gone. Joseph does what they should do, looking for and waiting. He is not passive in this wait however, he took courage and went to Pilate asking for the body. To verify that Jesus really died, there is the conversation between Pilate and the Centurion. The primary detail for Mark is the sealing of the tomb with a large stone. This is important as controversies arise before the end of the first century lasting into the fourth century. He died. He identified with us in our death. His incarnation was so real that he was buried. There is no part of us that he has not assumed for by the grace of God he tasted death for everyone. (Hebrews 2:9)

Often times, an ending is not the end, and that’s the case with the Gospel. In Mark a dead man rises from the tomb, and the Gospel ends in the middle of a sentence! In Chapter 16 the women find the stone rolled away when they come to anoint the body. A young man dressed in white is sitting on the right side, a place of honor. He tells them not to be alarmed, that Jesus has been raised, and that they should go and tell Peter and the disciples that Jesus has gone ahead of them to Galilee where they will see him. The use of the passive voice is important. It suggests divine action has intervened to raise Jesus. Then with these words the Gospel of Mark ends: “So, they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.” 

Through all of this Gospel Mark has been preparing us for the triumphant victory over death, just as Jesus was preparing his disciples. But there is a sense in which no one could be prepared for the resurrection. The resurrection is not the awakening of a corpse. It is God’s decisive intervention in time and history by which human existence is radically and forever transformed. The resurrection is the final stage in God’s mighty act of deliverance freeing humanity from sin and restoring communion with Him. The silence Jesus has imposed all through the Gospel of Mark is now reversed. Yet, the response is silence.

It is totally reasonable to ask and wonder why the Gospel could end like this. All through this Gospel Mark has portrayed misunderstanding, fear, failure and flight on the part of chosen disciples. Everything he has reported overturns all human ways of thinking. Now, with the last verse, Mark has finally brought us right into the center of the story. Now we are face to face with the announcement of victory over death leaving us to decide how we must respond. 

The longer ending accepted as inspired by the Holy Spirit did not appear until the late second century. The author seems to have been familiar with all four Gospels drawing from Matthew, Luke, and John. What is consistent in the story is that the Lord takes the initiative in appearing to people. They do not just “find” him. Significantly the first person to whom he appears is a woman out of whom he had driven seven demons, someone who might seem the least reliable. Furthermore, His risen body is such that he is not recognized until he makes himself known. As always before, Jesus reprimands the disciples when he finally appears to them, but that does not invalidate their commission. Slow to believe they are to proclaim the gospel to every creature. No longer just the chosen people, but all the world. Belief is not enough however, an action is required, being Baptized, an action of God by which a believer is united with Jesus in his death and resurrection and incorporated into the church. 

Mark knows that we are well aware of how the story unfolds and goes on. Peter and the disciples see the risen Lord, and their encounter with him becomes the bedrock of the apostolic proclamation of the Gospel that spread throughout the Roman Empire. This is not because the women succeeded in following their commission, but by the power of God who is able to overcome every human failure. We are living with Mark’s Gospel in times that call for a new Evangelization bringing this Good News not only to mission lands but to the secularized post-Christian cultures all around us.  We must allow ourselves to be filled with the same enthusiasm, joy, hope, and courage that followed Pentecost. Mark shows us that every word of Jesus is reliable, and we are all invited to accept in faith the testimony of his resurrection. The story has no end because it continues in the life of every disciple of Jesus for all time.

Unlike Mark’s Gospel that seems to have no ending, this talk does. I leave it with you now with the hope that the Holy Spirit will bring this Good News to life within you first for your own renewal in faith and then for the continual renewal of our Church which sometimes seems so afraid of the future, so timid, so ashamed of its failures as was Peter. We cannot look backward and pretend that earlier days and ways were better. If we do, we are like those women who were so afraid of what it might mean to live with and in the presence and power of God.

LISTENING TO MARK PART TWO

Three Parts: 

1 The Ministry in and around Galilee (1:14 to 8:26) Pages 1 to 7

2 The Journey to Jerusalem (8:26 to 13) Pages 8 to 14

3 The Passion (14 to 15) Pages 15-21

The ministry of Jesus has, up to this point, taken place in Galilee. He has shown his authority over demons, illness, the sea, and over sin. Until now no one had a clue as to his identity except the demons. Now the disciples, through the confession of Peter, have a recognition of who Jesus is. Everyone else is without understanding. This is a breakthrough, a burst of light symbolized by that healing of a blind man. Yet, as we shall see, this is just the beginning. Knowing that Jesus is the Messiah is not the same as knowing what it means to be a Messiah. Pharisees and Scribes have started controversy over cleanliness, which really means a lifestyle. His family and friends at home are shaking their heads over his behavior and the things he says. There is a constant frantic pace back and forth across the sea. The crowds are chasing him all over the place even when he withdraws to pray. With the identity of Jesus confirmed by Peter, Jesus begins to clarify and teach both what it means to be Messiah, and what the Messiah must do, and what it means to follow him. This is a turning point in Mark’s Gospel, and he makes it obvious with a geographical turn. Until now, Jesus has been in Galilee. Now he turns toward Jerusalem. This is the end of what can be called: “The Bread Section” to “The Journey Section” or “The Way.” The first of three predictions of the Passion are given to them. Peter objects making it clear that he has no idea what a Messiah is to be. In Mark’s plan, each prediction of the Passion is the occasion for another “teaching” moment. I think it is important at this point to remember that these “predictions” are not a manifestation of Divine Power, or some Divine insight in the future. The human Jesus knew very well what had happened to prophets before him. He knew of their rejection and their suffering. He had no reason to think it would be different for him. It is the same with regard to his prediction that after three days he would rise again. This is an expression of his confident hope that no matter what, his life would not be in vain and his mission would ultimately be victorious. It is a word of encouragement to his followers. So, the Teacher summons the crowd because his invitation to discipleship is extended to all. He teaches them about the cost of discipleship.

The opening event of this second part has Jesus taking those three who have become the “inner circle” up a high mountain by themselves. His Baptism, the moment when he understood his own identity, was a private affair. Now another event happens with others. On a “high mountain,” the place nearest heaven the Transfiguration takes place. Everything about this, as Mark tells it, is directed toward “them,” the three disciples.  (“transfigured before them, appeared to them, overshadowed them, they no longer saw anyone with them). This is not about or for Jesus. He says nothing and he does nothing. The presence of Elijah and Moses for Mark make Jesus the eschatological, final prophet who was destined to be taken up into heaven and return at the end of time. 

The journey must continue, so they come down this mountain headed for another, Golgotha. There have now been three confessions about the identity of Jesus. The first came from demons. The second from Peter. The third came from God himself. With the command to keep silent as they are coming down the mountain, we see that there is no way to understand who Jesus is until one has seen him suffer, die, and rise again. Of course, they don’t understand, and honestly, how could they understand what it means for someone to rise from the dead? This is not a common occurrence!

After this time on the high mountain, Mark resumes his sense of urgency with all this frantic crowd action. The crowd is in turmoil over something, we don’t know what it is, but they are arguing with the Scribes. It is likely over the inability of the disciples to heal a boy who is possessed. Jesus steps in, and the demon is cast out, but not without a comment on the requirement of faith. The disciples tried to cure this boy. Mark tells us they tried everything without success. Then the father of the boy shows no faith in his approach to Jesus when he says, “If you can…”. Nonetheless, Jesus responds, and the boy is healed giving occasion for the saying: “all things are possible.”  For Mark, this an occasion to reveal a truth about the nature of faith meaning not that the person with faith can achieve anything he desires, but rather that God’s power is limitless with those who have the courage to expect the best from God. The father’s cry “help my unbelief” is a reminder that faith is not something one has forever, but is always a gift that needs to be renewed and refreshed. 

With that, Jesus moves on through Galilee now teaching only his disciples. Then comes the second prediction of the Passion, death, and resurrection. Of course, they do not understand. To make matters worse, while Jesus is teaching them about what is to come, they are arguing about who among them is most important, about who is first.

In his response to this Jesus expounds on three deeply rooted tendencies of fallen human nature: a craving for Power, Pleasure, and Possessions. He shows how these must be countered with a lifestyle of humble service, fidelity in marriage and family, and detachment from earthly goods. Mark tells us that this all happens “in the house” making it clear that this teaching is for disciples, not the crowd. Mark tells us that Jesus sat down. Is he assuming the posture of the teacher/rabbi, or is he just tired of trying to get through to the disciples? He tells them what he thinks will become of him, and they are arguing about who will be first. I think he sat down because he was tired of trying to get through to them. But, the moment becomes tender as Mark tells us that there in that house, Jesus takes a child “in his arms”. Only Mark’s Gospel puts it this way, and he compares the child to himself: “Whoever receives a child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.”  It’s not about power, this Kingdom. It is about humble service. Then lest these disciples think they are special, someone comes along who is not part of their number doing good things in the name of Jesus. They object to this infringement on their privilege, and Jesus says, “Leave him alone.” It’s the old question about “them” and “us”, who’s on the inside and who’s on the outside — and what we likely have here is a peek into an internal problem troubling the early Church who first received this gospel. 

He then crosses the Jordan moving into Judea and the crowds are back as well as the Pharisees who pose a silly question about marriage and divorce. This is a “test question” nothing new is being proposed or offered. The issue here is whether or not Jesus will uphold the law or not. This has nothing to do with divorce or remarriage. To make it so and start quoting these verses to support one side of the issue or the other distorts the text and misses the point. Those who ask the question are always looking for loopholes, and Jesus will have none of that. The way they pose the question reveals their search for a loophole: “Is it ever permissible, they ask. Jesus passes the test by asking them a question that reveals their effort to put their will before the will of God. In the end, Jesus does not prohibit divorce nearly as much as he elevates marriage. 

Mark has Jesus elaborate on his response to the disciples by going back into the house. In this instruction, probably intended directly to the Church that receives the Gospel, the Jewish customs that allowing no rights for women gets upended. Then, the only time when Jesus becomes indignant occurs when the disciples, probably trying to protect Jesus or direct his attention to more important matters try to keep children away. It is an important scene that reveals how God feels about all his sons and daughters. Everyone gets God’s attention and deserves God’s attention. Rebuked will be anyone who sets up obstacles.  This Kingdom of Heaven is available and offered to all, especially those who have nothing to offer or count for nothing in the eyes of the world. Indirectly, this passage along with sections of Acts of the Apostles formed part of the ancient Church’s rationale for the practice of infant baptism. 

His journey to Jerusalem resumes when a rich man comes up calling him, “Good Teacher” asking what he must do to inherit eternal life?  This incident must have made a deep impression on the apostolic community because it is found in Matthew and Luke as well. The memories of each evangelist reveal different points. Matthew is impressed with his youthfulness. Luke calls him a “ruler” suggesting that his wealth is connected with power. For Mark, it is an opportunity to reveal a very human Jesus showing real sincere emotions as he looks at this man, and Mark tells us that he “loved him.” The words of Jesus starkly contradict Judaism’s belief at the time, a belief that somehow still prevails for some, that wealth and riches are a sign of God’s favor when in fact, they are a serious danger for anyone who wishes to inherit the Kingdom of God. Once more, Peter shows the lack of understanding among the disciples who are obviously wondering what they are going to get for following Jesus. They think that they can “earn” the Kingdom of God by doing something. In response to their question, Jesus uses the humorous hyperbole of a camel passing through the eye of a needle, reinforcing his teaching that the Kingdom of God is a gift bestowed by God to anyone God might choose. Putting what we can do before what God can give is simply wrong. Throughout this section, Mark’s message focuses on discipleship as a gift that comes not from abandoning things, but rather, from God’s call and God’s gift alone. Openness to receive this creates a true disciple putting God before all else. 

With that said, Mark provides the Third Prediction of the Passion with greater details as the journey to Jerusalem continues. It is the first time that Jerusalem is identified as the place for this to happen. This is the third and last time he will speak of his Passion prompting one more instruction on discipleship. The setting itself sends a message as Mark tells us that Jesus was walking “ahead of them.” There is now a sense of urgency almost as though Jesus is impatient to fulfill his mission. We are not sure who “them” refers to, but surely the disciples are included since they are about to be pulled aside once more. Nonetheless, Mark tells us that they were all moving ahead “amazed and afraid.” A sense of terror is now surely settling over them all, but Jesus moves ahead with confidence.

Mark just can’t let up on these disciples. No sooner has Jesus detailed the future he will experience, then James and John come up and ask if they can have places of honor by sitting at his right and left. It’s interesting to note that when Matthew retells this story, he is a little easier on these two. He has their mother come up and ask this question. Either way, it makes no difference. They do not understand what is going to happen to Jesus and what it means, nor do they understand what it suggests for their future as well. They are spiritually blind, and Mark has something say about that. Whatever, rank and precedence are about to be eradicated. There is some thought among the scholars that this is a later addition in an attempt to settle some controversy among the leadership of the Church. However, the response of Jesus: “to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant” is thought to be an authentic statement from Jesus without redaction. There is a pattern being followed here that Mark has used before: a prediction of the passion followed by a dispute of some kind among the confused disciples concluded by an instruction. This provides Mark with a way of repeating for the sake of emphasis his dominant theme: the lack of understanding among disciples in the face of the truth that God’s way of suffering and sacrifice for Jesus is identical with God’s way of suffering and sacrifice for his disciples. The instruction period over serving rather than being served concludes with a firm statement of identity: “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” There can be further doubt about what Jesus thought was his mission, and what would be required of those who would be his disciples.

            A word comes up in this instruction that is a challenge for scholars and even for us: “Ransom.” It has a variety of meanings including money paid in compensation for a crime, or to rescue or redeem a life that might be lost, or a fee handed over to the next of kin to set free a relative, or the fee paid to replace the sacrifice of a newborn. All have specific examples in the Old Testament. The verb and the noun both have their roots in the same Greek word for redemption. When Jesus says: “For the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” there is the possibility of thinking that this means some are left out which is incorrect. He’s not talking about the majority as opposed to the minority. The word “for” may simply mean “for the sake of” or “on behalf of” rather than “instead of.” In other words, this is not a trade-off. Jesus is not doing something so that we don’t have to. He does this for the sake of us (to show us how) not to excuse us. That’s important. 

By now, they have made it to Jericho where the last healing story is told, and it sums up the goal of Mark’s Gospel as the blind man begins to follow Jesus along the way. A blind man seems to understand the message of Jesus better than the disciples. This is real discipleship, following Jesus along the way. The story begins with Jesus asking the same question he just asked James and John: “What do you want?” 

Can you imagine being asked that question by Christ some day? We should have noticed that healing stories have been few and far between in this section of Mark’s Gospel. The only other one was the healing of the epileptic boy in the ninth chapter. So, we can assume that this one is an important transition. 

This story in tradition has always been associated with leaving Jericho. So, in order to get Jesus there, Mark begins verse 46 by saying: “And they came to Jericho” and then immediately says: “and as he was leaving Jericho…” Now, this is the first time the title, “Son of David” is applied to Jesus. Jesus calls, and the blind man jumps up. He throws aside his cloak which would have been his livelihood since donations would have been dropped into it, he does what the rich young man could not do. This one is a real disciple, and he does not ask for place of honor. He simply asks to see.

This is a transition moment in the Gospel from a section on Discipleship to what becomes an entire section of confrontations with the religious authorities in Jerusalem. Those words: “on the way” conclude the instruction on discipleship. With that, the ministry at Jerusalem begins. Since Peter’s declaration about the identity of Jesus, discipleship has been the focus of Mark’s Gospel. Now begins the ministry of Jesus. 

About 500 years before Christ, a prophet we call Zechariah was actively preaching a message of reform and conversion promising that the Lord would return to his people if they would return to him. He wrote to encourage the rebuilding of the Temple and the return of more exiles. This is the shortest work among what scholars call, The Minor Prophets.” The first eight of the fourteen chapters are attributed to Zechariah, but at least two others added the rest of the chapters. In the last chapter, the prophet describes a messianic vision of the coming of the Prince of Peace. The verses describe the triumphant appearance of the humble king who would appear on the Mount of Olives, and that is where Mark opens the scene of entry into Jerusalem. The scene has more than a few hints of an enthronement procession, the first of which is the colt that the disciples are sent to bring back to Jesus. There is always some curiosity about this scene raising some questions. Did Jesus have some supernatural power that allowed him to know where and how to get the colt? Then, how is it that the disciples are instructed to tell the owner that the “Lord” needs it. The consistent reading of this episode is that Mark intended to suggest that the colt is needed for a sacred purpose. This idea is reinforced by the detail that no one had ridden on this colt – further suggesting that something sacred was about to happen. Again, Zechariah’s prophetic vision has the messianic king riding a colt.

Again, I remind you that this is not history nor a biography of Jesus. Mark’s Gospel would give the impression that Jesus made only one visit to Jerusalem. That is not what we can learn from the other Gospels. This is simply the way Mark arranges his theological focus on the mission of Jesus somewhat artificially into three separate days. Mark says he taught there day after day, yet some of the teachings especially those in chapter 14 could have had their origins in the Gapernaum ministry.

If we only had Mark’s Gospel, we would be led to think of Jerusalem as a terrible, evil place. But, Mark is writing to Gentiles. Luke and Matthew on the other hand have a partially Jewish community for their message, and Jerusalem is not, for them, such a dark and evil place. Mark’s report of the entry into Jerusalem is much more muted than we find in the other Gospels. In the others the whole “Messianic” ministry is much more pronounced. Not so here.  The acclamation of the people is another detail suggesting that Mark sees this is an enthronement act in the style of the Old Testament rituals with the Arc. Spreading garments on a colt and the road are a coronation custom. The acclamation by the people is both a quotation from Psalm 118 which is sung by pilgrims approaching the Temple and taken from 1 Maccabees describing the arrival of Simon Maccabeus entering the city after their successful revolt. So, is this history or is it Theology?  Unique to Mark’s Gospel, the crowd does not call Jesus either “King” or “Son of David.” It is also important to notice that the people who make up this crowd are the ones who are already with him. No one comes out of the city to greet him. 

This entry is triumphal only for the followers of Jesus who still do not understand his destiny. In fact, the crowd is expressing their hope for a Messiah yet to come which they feel is near. There is here, once again, a contrast between their expected Messiah and what they get in Jesus. For Jesus, it is a pilgrim’s entry, and he is silent. The irony of this rag-tag procession is that its enthusiastic participants are wrong in their expectation that a Messiah will immediately restore the fortunes of Jerusalem. He enters as the lowly one, a hero only to the crowd who have followed him there. Ironically, he is more of a King than they think. For Mark, this is a religious procession not a political rally. The term, “Hosanna” is a religious term acclaiming salvation. It has nothing to do with power or politics. 

The focus in Mark is on the sovereign authority with which Jesus acts here. His command is at once obeyed, and things turn out exactly as he says. The notion that Jesus has pre-arranged with someone to have that colt available does not fit in with Mark’s style and purpose. For Mark, Jesus is the one with the knowledge and the power to make things happen. 

This year, when the Gospel of Mark is proclaimed at the start of the Holy Week Liturgy, it is difficult to keep the spirit of Mark’s lowly one with all the fuss and pomp with which we usually begin the Palm Sunday Liturgy. Nonetheless, come Palm Sunday, listen carefully with what you now understand is Mark’s intention. 

Unlike Matthew and Luke, Jesus does not immediately drive the merchants and money changers from the Temple. He does go straight to the Temple, but there he only looks around then goes back to Bethany with the Twelve for the night. We should note that the Temple was in many ways both a Holy Place for Sacrifice and the primary economic engine of its time somewhat like “Wall Street.” Consequently, as we shall see, any threat or talk of its destruction is a serious matter much the way we might think of terrorists targeting the centers of our commerce. The Temple has become a market place, a noisy hubbub of business. Instead of the Temple sanctifying the city, the city was profaning the Temple. We know the story, but in Mark’s version Mark has Jesus quote Isaiah: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.” Only Mark add, “for all people” a phrase that would have special meaning for his mostly Gentile readers. It puts me in mind of Pope Francis speaking to the Youth in Lisbon this summer: “The Church is for everyone!” 

A favorite technique of Mark shows up here. It is the insertion of a story within a story. In other words, one story is like bookends with a story in the middle. In this case, the Fig Tree story has the cleansing of the Temple in the middle of it. The two stories interpret each other and help illuminate the message. Many scholars suspect that the fig tree story is a later insertion since it is the only negative and destructive miracle of Jesus and is totally out of character for Mark’s Gospel. The truth is, it’s irrational. Why would a tree be cursed for not producing fruit when it is not the season for fruit bearing? Only when seen together with the story within the story (the Temple cleansing) does it make any sense at all. From the view point of the early Church, the fig tree is a symbol for Israel embodied in the Temple and its leaders. That symbol has roots in the Old Testament. Both Temple and Fig Tree appear to be thriving, but neither is bearing the desired fruit; both are condemned by Jesus. 

The scene was in the outermost court of the Temple, the Court of the Gentiles. By the colonnades around it the Scribes were fond of teaching their pupils, and on the pavement the traders conducted their business of selling wine, salt, oil, and sacrificial animals, and at certain seasons the money-changers exchanged the Greek or Roman money of pilgrims into the Jewish or Tyrian currency that was required for payment of the Temple Tax. In Mark’s understanding, just as with the cursing of the fig tree, this action is a picture of God’s judgement on hard-hearted Israel, so the expulsion of the merchants is a sign of the divine judgement on the Temple in particular. For his adversaries, there is no escaping the implications here. The leaders are not bearing fruit, and the Temple is not what it should be. That early Church surely saw this as a symbol of God’s final judgement on faithless Israel. Then later it gets re-interpreted for his disciples. So, here comes a time to teach about Faith, Prayer, and Forgiveness.

When it comes to history, the cleansing of the Temple seems to be an actual historical event. Each of the Evangelists reports this incident, and each one in a different way with a different focus. What seems most likely is that this is a relatively minor incident in one corner of the Temple court magnified by tradition and developed along the theological lines of the Evangelist reporting. Here, Jesus cites Jeremiah 7: 11 acting as the prophet who came to purify and restore Israel to its holiness. There is a curious statement inserted saying: “And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the Temple.” In other words, the Temple was not a “short cut” to get from one place to another. It was a sacred space. Scholars think that this phrase was inserted by the early Church to tone down the opposition of Jesus to the Temple. 

The very next verse says: “He taught them.” How in the world he could shift from the disturbance he caused to a teaching moment is curious, and it serves as one more example that Mark’s Jesus is a Teacher with full authority who greatly disturbs the Jewish authorities. With the words: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations” Jesus calls an end to the exceptionalism and the exclusive privilege enjoyed by Israel. These words and this action is for Jesus, in all the synoptic Gospels, the culmination of his ministry. This act sets up the final conflict. The Fig Tree story resumes, and it has withered.

There now unfolds a series of five controversies between Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders. These begin with a question put to Jesus by his adversaries. The fig tree story introduces the whole series. 

(1) A question about authority. 

(2) A question about loyalty over what coin should be used. 

(3) A question about the Resurrection 

(4) A question about the greatest commandment. 

(5) A question about the Messiah as the Son of David.

This all begins with that fig tree story focusing on the failed authority of the adversaries. This gives rise to the question about the authority of Jesus. The leaders of the people see Jesus as a challenge to their authority. In this confrontation, Mark shows the authority of Jesus as he demands that these chief priests, scribes and elders of the people answer him. Jesus has walked boldly into the Temple, and they come up with their question that amounts to: “Who do you think you are?” It’s the right question for Mark, but it is asked with the wrong intention, to trap him. Instead, he traps them with a question about John the Baptist. They are afraid of the crowds who still admire John the Baptist. If they admit that John was a true prophet they are guilty for refusing to listen to him. So, they back down and say they don’t know. Jesus tells them that if by now they do not recognize by what authority he teaches, they never will. With that, it’s over for the time being.

 Jesus then tells a parable about Tenants who seize the land after killing the son. They can’t have liked that story. When Mark tells the story, it is a strong reminder to the authorities of the early Church to which he writes to be careful not to claim some exclusive privilege within the Church. 

Next, they send some Pharisees and Herodians in an attempt to trap Jesus with that question about which coin to use for paying the taxes. These two groups would not be friendly toward each other. The Pharisees would have been against even handling the Roman coins much less paying a tax to Caesar. The Herodians, on the other hand,

depended upon the Romans for their livelihood. It was a real trap because it was a burning issue at the time. He forces his questioners to answer for themselves, but not before embarrassing them by asking for the coin which they have in their possession inside the Temple precincts. “Busted!”.

With the next question, there is an answer: “You are wrong,” he says to the Sadducees who come with a question that is really meant as an insult. They are scoffing at the whole idea with an absurd and silly example of how many times a widow should be married in order to raise up descendants for the first husband. He disarms them by asking a question: ‘Have you not read in the book of Moses?” Suggesting that these aristocratic people who only accept the first five books of the Scriptures as authoritative is demeaning to them. Insult for insult is what Mark has us see here.

A Scribe has been listening, and he steps forward with the next question about which is the greatest commandment. This Scribe, whose question seems more sincere than hostile, finds the response of Jesus encouraging, and he hears Jesus say to him: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” After which Mark says: “And no one dared to ask him any more questions.” 

Now Jesus takes the initiative and poses the question about who he is. In a sense, he is on the attack now, and he goes right to the heart of the matter, namely, the kind of Messiah they are expecting. They thought the Messiah would be from the blood line of David and be a King like David. Jesus maintains that being a blood descendant of David is not the important part, and that the Messiah would be greater than David. In fact, he would be so great that he could be called by the title reserved for God. Since he is greater than David, his reign can be greater than David’s. He quotes Psalm 110 to make his point, and the crowd loves this, and to them, he denounces the Scribes for seeking high places and showing off their piety, and “devouring” the houses of widows.

The final chapter of this section, thirteen, has Jesus observe the widow’s offering in the Temple. After this, he predicts the destruction of the Temple and the coming persecution switching into the Apocalyptic style of writing to describe the coming of the Son of Man, and the need for watchfulness. This section of Mark’s Gospel is probably the most difficult passage for anyone to appreciate. This writing style is simply foreign to us. It is a combination of poetry, science fiction, preaching, exhortation, and prediction. Mark does not use this style often, so when he finally does, it is easy to mess it up when it comes to understanding and interpreting.

There are two themes, two perspectives going on usually at the same time. One concerns the coming destruction of Jerusalem; the other deals with the second coming of Jesus under the title of the Son of Man. These two are interwoven: in one verse Mark may refer to the destruction of Jerusalem and in the very next verse switch to the Son of Man idea. Sometimes he puts to the two together. In both instances, Jesus is urging vigilance and readiness for both events.

This is thirty-seven verses in length and the longest speech of Jesus in Mark’s Gospel. This is his farewell speech to the disciples and it describes what Jesus means to the world as the Son of Man. The opening comment by a disciple about the size of the Temple gets it started. Jesus predicts its destruction, and it was not even finished at the time historically. It was completed seven years before the Romans destroyed it in about 70 A.D. The first disciples called are the only ones present for this: Peter, James, John, and Andrew. This would indicated that this a very special moment.

This writing style always contains descriptions of distress – wars, earthquakes, famines, and floods. The point is not a prediction, but rather that disciples should not lose faith in the face of distress because God’s plan is working itself out. Disciples are reminded that they are not alone, that the Holy Spirit will be with them. The coming destruction of the Temple is then presented along with the predicted desecration of having a foreign army inside the Temple. Jesus tells the disciples not to defend the city, but to flee because God’s plan is unfolding and they must not lose faith.

Mark then switches to the coming of the Son of Man in glory. The images are taken entirely from the Old Testament. The actual time is left open. The message is that the Son of Man will bring calm after the chaos acting as a judge claiming his kingdom. The mention of the sun darkening and stars falling is not to be taken literally. The point is that the distress of this world, the forces of evil at work in the world will eventually be conquered regardless of how powerful they seem. It ends with an exhortation to be alert and ready. What it all comes down to is that there will be evil and destruction, but there is also a promise that the forces of good will be stronger. These two themes of destruction and promise have been in the background of this Gospel since the opening prologue. This section is simply the interweaving of these two themes. With these words, the Passion is about to begin: “And what I say to you, I say to all, Watch.” Now the scene is set for the Passion which begins with Chapter 14 as the conspiracy against Jesus takes shape with Passover two days away.