March 26, 2023 at Saint Eugene Church in Oklahoma City, OK

Ezekiel 37, 12-14 + Psalm 130 + Romans 8, 8-11 + John 11, 1-45

My name is Thomas. When my parents chose that name for me, I am sure that they did not realize what a gift they were giving me. While there are several great men with that name: Thomas Aquinas, Thomas Beckett, Thomas More, I feel sure that they knew nothing of those men, and I have always believed that the Apostle Thomas was their intent. Over the 81 years I have carried that name, that man called: “The Twin” and I have grown closer. The oral tradition that shaped the written Gospels only recalled three occasions when he spoke, and it’s not hard to understand why they would have remembered and passed on his words. The three things he says reveal a movement in faith for anyone who would be a follower of Jesus Christ. First some bewilderment: “We do not know where you are going”. Then the first and shortest of all creeds, “My Lord and My God”. Finally, the courage and boldness that any believer must have when he says, “Let us go to die with him.”

With the words we hear today, Thomas challenges the fear in his companions as they near Jerusalem knowing that there is trouble ahead, and the enemies of Jesus are waiting for him. His timid, frightened companions remind Jesus that there had just been an attempt on his life. They don’t want to go, and they don’t want him to go. Thomas speaks up. What he suggests is that anyone living in fear is already dead. Fear drains the life out of us.  It leaves us paralyzed and unable to fulfill God’s plan for us. Jesus knows what God wants, not just from him but from us all, and so, fearless, he goes.

There is much more to this episode in John’s Gospel than a story about a dead man being called from a tomb. This occasion in Bethany is not the first time Jesus as called someone to life.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke have Transfiguration scenes, but not John. There is no Transfiguration scene. The whole of John’s Gospel episode by episode, reveals the glory of Jesus. The whole Gospel is an unfolding of glory revealed in Jesus Christ from the joy of a wedding feast without wine to the sadness of a grave in Bethany. The glory of God is slowly being revealed through Jesus Christ, who constantly shows us the essence of God’s being and glory. We are invited to enter into the dynamic of that love and in response, give glory to God.

Come Pentecost when the Holy Spirit is poured out and poured into the lives of those cautious, timid, and sometimes fearful disciples, the glory of God breaks into this world.

My friends, if the mission of Jesus Christ was ultimately to give glory to God and restore that glory in the lives of human kind, then we suddenly know what our lives are about and why we are here. The glory of God is the reason we have the gifts given to us using them for the glory of God affirms that we know who we are and why.

For three nights this week, I will refresh your memories about what we do here in this sacred space and remind you of why we do it. An example: I will soon say to you: “Pray, brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.” And you say? “For the glory of his name!” There it is! There is your reason for being here. Giving glory to God is what you came here for not to get something. Yet, how often we hear some say: “I don’t get anything out of it.” Maybe they only do things to get something in return.  I’m also going to talk about what God is doing here. Sometimes we miss that because we’re too busy thinking about ourselves. Join me three times this week. It might just be refreshing and change the way you experience this Holy and precious time we spend in this place.

Lenten Mission at Saint Eugene Parish in Oklahoma City, OK

Monday, March 27, 2023

The Roman Rite Mass and Language of Ritual Part One

Let us pray that my sacrifice and yours will be acceptable to God the almighty Father. 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. With those words the church, you and me declare to all the world why we were created, why we are here, and what God asks of us. Yet, somehow those words that say so much get so little attention. They get rattled off by memory and are more a signal to stand up than anything else. To invite you to do more than recite words, and to tempt you to dig deeper into the mystery of faith revealed to us and celebrated in this church is why I am here.

Historians, I suspect, will examine these years of our times and have all sorts of names to describe our generation: the age of blame, the age of the victims, the age of relativism, the age of individualism, the age of narcissism, and, I suspect, the age of the great Culture War. While we all find some evidence to support any of those names, the one that might be most troubling and destructive is the latter one. The Culture War being raged in this polarized western society has infected not only our civil society, but our church as well. While I wish the issues being fought over would be addressed in a classroom, the fact is, they are often being addressed in our churches.

Change is a frightening and disturbing experience, and it is often resisted at a high price. I can confirm that from my own experience. Retirement, while planned for and anticipated, has been nothing like I expected. It has been was full of surprises not always welcome. In the beginning, I would pick up my phone not to answer a call, but to check the battery because it was never ringing. I would show up to celebrate Mass in a parish and discover that I had gone to the wrong church, or that something special was going on that day over which I had no information nor input about it happening.

Yet, change is a sign of and a result of life. Whatever does not change is either frozen or dead. Our Holy Father, Pope Francis, is much like the Prophets of the Old Testament, calling for change. The Synodal Church he is reawakening is a church that listens. He wants us to stop talking, judging, commanding, and condemning and start listening both to one another and to the Word of God. Listening must come before acting. There is a pattern of that in our Sacred Liturgy and we would do well to honor that wisdom in everything we do.

A few years ago, I sat in as an observer during a meeting of priests during which the polarized clergy were addressing the issue of what language should be used at Mass and which direction the priest should face. I did not observe much listening at that meeting. It amounted to a series of pronouncements and a kind of manifesto written from various documents favorably chosen somewhat out of context. I came away from that meeting sensing that the liturgy was not really the issue. One of the men who was obviously and unfortunately feeling very defensive was asked why he chose to do what he was doing with the liturgy of the church. His response was: “Because I can.” I immediately began hearing Frank Sinatra singing “I did it my way.” Since I was there to listen, I kept my mouth shut, but I wanted to say: “Excuse me. I don’t like the possessive pronoun. It isn’t your liturgy. It’s “my sacrifice and yours”. In truth, it’s really God’s, and you can’t do what you want even if you can. You can’t kill someone even if you can. You can’t stand on one leg to give out communion even if you can. Now, when it comes to priests, I have often said when preaching retreats, “It’s not your parish.” You are just passing through. From the viewpoint of a priest, I have personally always avoided using the possessive pronoun when referring to my assignments. I would often challenge the men in seminary to avoid saying “My Parish.” It’s never yours. Your name may be on the Checking Account, but it’s not on the Deed. You are just passing through. (Tell the story of a Bishop.) When it comes to Lay people, it is their parish. Many of the built it, clean it, and pay for it. In as much as it really is God’s Parish, there is a practical and real side to possession. Let me tell you who taught me a lesson about this from the experience of a Lay Person. Her name was Ruth – some priests called her, “Ruth of Edmond”. She was my mother.

The greatest thing about retirement is that I no longer care about the roof, the collection, the staff, or even the Bishop for that matter. (Tell the St Peter story.)Since I am 81 years old, I have lived through six of them. They come and they go just like your pastors. Then, as a bi-ritual priest, living outside of the Diocese for which I was ordained, I now have three Bishops to whom I am responsible leading me to finally see that what concerns them does not really concern me, and my main objective is to avoid giving them any more concerns. The consequence of this is that I now have lots of time to sit, study, read, and reflect upon what’s going on around me, and that is what led me to gather these thoughts I want to share with you this week. I am very aware that there is a difference between opinions and facts. Some people are not aware of that difference. I will make it clear which one is which. However, during these Culture War Years, facts no longer seem to matter, and I can’t do anything about that.

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 are mostly not those who were there. They are 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, and I hope that’s why you’ve come here tonight.  I can easily remember the 12-minute Latin Mass of my childhood. It 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 far more traditional than what we did before 1968. What I observe (opinion here) is that this movement toward a “more reverent and mystery filled liturgy” is really a new form of a priest-focused clerical liturgy that is as much performance as it is worship in which women are returned to the sacristy while men take charge. 

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 over what is 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, glass, 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 war that has 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 your 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 too 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. On Ash 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 is 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 by rote formulas and litanies. I mean a real heart to heart talk with God, with the risen Lord, or maybe 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. That is the way we just began here. Let’s say it again. 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 with a people who are giving glory and praise to God.  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 25^th 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. When I was at the Cathedral back in Oklahoma City, I tried to cultivate a “Cathedral” liturgy never intending it to be copied in local parishes. Even after the Council of Trent, liturgical practices that were in existence for two hundred years were allowed to continue such as the Dominican liturgy celebrated in Dominican Convents, or the Ambrosian liturgy celebrated in Milan. “One size fits all” has never been the case when it comes to the Roman or Western Latin Rite. However, those unique variations are for particular places and communities. They are not “optional rites” for people everywhere. For one thing, the rites have to fit the space. What works in a Gothic church of France would be silly on Guymon, Oklahoma. 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 all over us. 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 saw it Thursday at the Ft Myers 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 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 of 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 in ever-new ways what occurs uniquely 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. I believe, and that’s why I’m here, that we must learn to experience the same nourishment from the Liturgy. This might mean, for example, approaching the mystery of the Eucharist by understanding the meaning of the Eucharistic Prayer. When the priest says: “The Mystery of Faith” in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer, something should be unfolding, opening up, become clear to us about who is in our midst and because of it and because of what we are doing there, our own identity should be crystal clear. Four words that ought to make us think: “HUH?” “What’s happening here?” “How am I a part of this?” “What do I have to say about it?” Like the Scriptures, the Liturgy must be understood, meditated upon, and interiorized until it becomes part of our personal prayer. What I mean by that is that the Liturgy should makes us want to run home and shut the door! God speaks and acts through the Liturgy just as much as God speaks and acts through the Scriptures. 

Many people these days have discovered an ancient and very fruitful kind of personal prayer called: Lectio Divina. It is a method of prayer usually practiced alone, but sometimes in a group setting when a passage of Scripture is read then reflected upon by placing one’s self into the scene or the occasion, imagining (there’s that skill again) what it was like and what it is like right now. I wonder why that same exercise used with Sacred Scriptures, could not be used with the words of the Liturgy? It might be rather fruitful. In the Acts of the Apostles, chapter eight, Philip asks the Ethiopian official whom he finds reading the prophet Isaiah: “Do you understand what you are reading?” I think that same question should be asked of every one of us: “Do you understand what you are celebrating?” No more than we could get through the Prophet Isaiah in one day do I think we can get through the Sacred Liturgy in three talks, but we can at least open a crack and get a taste for what might lead you to a deeper understanding and fruitful prayer in the Liturgy.

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 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. The Word of God has found its fulfillment in the true worship offered by Christ on the cross.  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. In the Scriptures, the knowledge offered is intellectual and rational. In the Liturgy, in Ritual, one learns by listening, speaking, seeing, smelling, and touching. The senses are the pathway to meaning.

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, 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 for and a new experience in prayer as you explore the rite and rituals that speak about something almost too profound too real and too 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. Notice that the prayer is addressed to God, not to Jesus. That is important to realize as we explore how Jesus and the Holy Spirit participate and contribute to our Divine Liturgy and our Eucharistic experience. 

Monday, March 28, 2023

The Roman Rite Mass and Language of Ritual Part Two

In the last half of the 4^th Century, Saint Ambrose gave a series of sermons right after Easter to the newly Baptized. One of them concerned the “Sacraments” In that sermon Ambrose 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. 

The rites of introduction for the Eucharistic celebration have four elements: a greeting, the penitential act, the doxology, and the prayer. These are not separate actions. The purpose of this introduction is for us to enter into the presence of the Lord. The first authentic liturgical act the assembly is called to carry out is to approach God’s presence. There is a reciprocal presence here. The Lord is with his people and the people are before the Lord. Psalm 24 composed for the liturgical entry into the Jerusalem Temple goes like this: “Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord? And who shall stand in His holy place?” Then it continues: “Those who have clean hands and pure hearts.” Our “Confiteor” prayer expresses the same sentiments. Remember this, 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. 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:

We praise you

We bless you

We adore you

We glorify you

We give you thanks for your great glory. 

Recognize the great hymn?

It goes on with what amounts to a Creed that 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.

With that said, the Introductory Rite finishes with a summary prayer that in every instance 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. 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 one of the servers at Saint Mark Parish in Norman 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 just exactly that, 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. That is not what happens in the Penitential Rite introducing the Eucharistic Liturgy. In short, to put it in bad, but common language: Going to Mass is not an excuse for avoiding the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Listen to these words that conclude the Syriac Liturgy with which the celebrant dismisses the assembly:

Go in peace, beloved brothers and sisters; we entrust to you the grace and mercy of the Holy Trinity, and to the viaticum that you have taken from the purifying altar of the Lord, all of you, near and far, living and dead, saved by the glorious cross of the Lord and signed by the sign of holy baptism. May the Holy Trinity forgive your errors, remit your sins, and give you the repose of your soul at your deaths. Have pity on me, a weak and sinful servant, with the help of your prayers. Go in peace, content and joyful, and pray for me.”

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. It is the 4^thChapter of Luke’s Gospel. The infancy narrative is finished. John the Baptist is at work, and the adult Jesus appears, is baptized, anointed by the Holy Spirit and led by that Spirit to the wilderness where he faces his temptations. Then Luke tells us that filled with the Holy Spirit, he returns to Galilee and went to the Synagogue. He takes up the scroll during the prayer, and with that, his ministry begins. 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 himself, 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 who speaks 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 then and there. 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. How does it happen? What does it mean? These are the questions to ask at this point.

We must notice a 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 community of believers present and past, or we could say: “Dead or Alive. See how this anticipates and foretells the Mystery of Faith. And, what is this “mystery of faith?” It is Jesus Christ whose presence, whose mission, whose entire being is the gathering together of all people. This is why is greatest focus for him was on those who were scattered, lost, abandoned, expelled, sinful. His fulfillment of God’s will and God’s plan was to gather all people together with, through, and in Jesus Christ. That is the “Mystery of Faith.”  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 the next time you enter your church for the Holy Eucharistic celebration. Use that gift we call, “imagination.” Look at that rag-tag assembly of sinners longing for Salvation. We belong there. To summarize this simply, the assembly is the place where God continues to speak to us and where 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; people present and listening.

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 notice. 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 Bible. 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 8^th 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 all four Gospels lead 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 13^th 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 single Gospel verse 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. This past Sunday was a perfect example. The Communion Antiphon was part of what Jesus said to Martha standing there at the grave of Lazarus. It ties the feast we have just had on the Word with the feast we are having with the Eucharist Bread. 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 by which we say something in gesture about what we believe and who we are. There is a definite ethical dimension to this act. If you want to really get to the roots of this, the 26^th 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, first fruits, the sabbatical year, and gleaning 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. In as much as these gifts represent ourselves then 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. Hear these words from the Maronite Rite spoken by the priest holding up the gifts just given him by the people: “Almighty Lord and God, you accepted the offerings of our ancestors. Now accept these offerings that your children have brought to you out of their love for your holy name. Shower your spiritual blessings upon them and in lace of their earthly gifts, grant them life and your kingdom.” An exchange of gifts is about to happen. We bring what we have. God gives us what God has. And then with what God has given us, we give God glory. 

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. In it we can recognize the fundamental elements of the world: the EARTH that receives the seed and makes it grow, the WATER and the ground grain mixed together into a dough, and the FIRE and hot AIR for baking. These are the elements of the universe. They are universal, and so is bread. 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, the presentation of the gifts is not limited to bringing bread and wine 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. As some of you know, I get side tracked sometimes by words, especially nouns and verbs. Indulge me for a moment. 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.

As I said yesterday, the Eucharistic prayers, all of them, will be more fruitful for us if we give them the same prayerful reflection we use on the Sacred Scriptures with Lectio Divina. If you do that, you will discover the dynamic of the two epiclesis of the prayer; one epiclesis over the gifts and a second over the assembly. An example: in Eucharistic prayer 2 the church prays: “Humbly we pray that, partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ, we may be gathered into one by the Holy Spirit.”The bodies are placed in relationship here: the Eucharistic Body of Christ and the Ecclesial Body. The goal of the first one is the second one. The whole purpose of the Eucharistic Body is the Ecclesial Body. “Why are we doing this, we should ask? The answer is to become what the Holy Spirit continues to do, gather into one the scattered children of God.

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. The truth of the Eucharistic body is an ecclesial body. 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 id

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. Augustine, in one of his sermons tells a story about Victorinus who converted to Christianity around 355. He was in the habit of reading the Holy Scriptures and studied all the Christian writings intensively. He said to friend in a private conversation that he was a Christian. The other replied: “Until I see you in Christ’s church I will not believe that or count you among the Christians.” With that, Victorinus said: “Let us go to the church: I want to become Christian.” We know he was not talking about a building here, but rather an assembly gathered together in the name of Christ.

All of this leads us to confirm that the central issue for us today is to believe in the Church as communion, as the Body of Christ. In a culture marked by individualism, competition, affirmation of oneself at all costs, even at the expense of others, it is difficult to be church, to be truly a community. Only from the Eucharist, from the prophetic gesture of the breaking of the bread, can the Christian communities of the West renew their awareness that the Church cannot be the Body of Christ where Christians fail to turn away from egoism and refuse to share their goods with the poor. What is not shared with others in communion is taken from others in injustice. According to Sirach, God does not like a sacrifice that is the fruit of injustice toward the poor because: “Like one who kills a son before his father’s eyes is the person who offers a sacrifice from the property of the poor.” (Sirach 34, 24)

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

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 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 of 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 Texas/Oklahoma Football game. 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 4^th and 5^th century, they are much shorter than the Roman Canon that comes from the 16^th century. Longer still is Eucharistic Prayer Four which was adapted from a Swiss Canon composed in the 20^th 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 in 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, the 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. In the study and preparation, I gave for this day, I was constantly frustrated by the limits of time and the inadequacy of human words. With that in mind, I am humbled and say that I cannot find the words to express how wonderful it feels to be here with you back in Oklahoma. I told the people at Saint Mark at the last Liturgy we celebrated together that I would no longer be their pastor, but would always be their priest. I never forget you, and 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. “

Sunday, March 12, 2023

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 over time in history been a like a lightning rod, an explosive source of controversy, 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 concerning the primacy of place given to the reforms of 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 Pre-Council Liturgy with the hope that gradually, the church would come together and older people who found the change impossible to accept would eventually pass away. It did not work, and 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.” It 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 your 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 too 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. On Ash 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 is 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 by rote formulas and litanies. 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 who we get together in the church. I’ll be 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 25^th 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. When I was at the Cathedral back in Oklahoma City, I tried to cultivate a “Cathedral” liturgy never intending it to be copied in local parishes. Even after the Council of Trent, liturgical practices that were in existence for two hundred years were allowed to continue such as the Dominican liturgy or the Ambrosian liturgy celebrated in Milan. “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 on Marco Island. 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 all over us. 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 yesterday 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 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 of 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 in ever-new ways what occurs uniquely 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. I believe, and that’s why I’m here, that we must learn to experience the same nourishment from the Liturgy. This might mean, for example, approaching the mystery of the Eucharist by understanding the meaning of the Eucharistic Prayer. When the priest says: “The Mystery of Faith” in the middle of the Eucharistic prayer, something should be unfolding, opening up, become clear to us about who is in our midst and because of it and because of what we are doing there, our own identity should be crystal clear. Four words that ought to make us think: “HUH?” “What’s happening here?” “How am I a part of this?” “What do I have to say about it?” Like the Scriptures, the Liturgy must be understood, meditated upon, and interiorized until it becomes part of our personal prayer. What I mean by that is that the Liturgy should makes us want to run home and shut the door! God speaks and acts through the Liturgy just as much as God speaks and acts through the Scriptures. 

Many people these days have discovered an ancient and very fruitful kind of personal prayer called: Lectio Divina. It is a method of prayer usually practiced alone, but sometimes in a group setting when a passage of Scripture is read then reflected upon by placing one’s self into the scene or the occasion, imagining (there’s that skill again) what it was like and what it is like right now. I wonder why that same exercise used with Sacred Scriptures, could not be used with the words of the Liturgy? It might be rather fruitful. In the Acts of the Apostles, chapter eight, Philip asks the Ethiopian official whom he finds reading the prophet Isaiah: “Do you understand what you are reading?” I think that same question should be asked of every one of us: “Do you understand what you are celebrating?” No more than we could get through the Prophet Isaiah in one day do I think we can get through the Sacred Liturgy in three talks, but we can at least open a crack and get a taste for what might lead you to a deeper understanding and fruitful prayer in the Liturgy.

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 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. The Word of God has found its fulfillment in the true worship offered by Christ on the cross.  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. The Rite is for the Liturgy what the alphabet is for the Scriptures. In the Scriptures, the knowledge offered is intellectual and rational. In the Liturgy, in Ritual, one learns by listening, speaking, seeing, smelling, and touching. The senses are the pathway to meaning.

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, 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.

Lenten Mission at San Marco Parish – Marco Island, FL

Monday, March 13, 2023

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. 

The rites of introduction for the Eucharistic celebration have four elements: a greeting, the penitential act, the doxology, and the prayer. These are not separate actions. The purpose of this introduction is for us to enter into the presence of the Lord. The first authentic liturgical act the assembly is called to carry out is to approach God’s presence. There is a reciprocal presence here. The Lord is with his people and the people are before the Lord. Psalm 24 composed for the liturgical entry into the Jerusalem Temple goes like this: “Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord? And who shall stand in His holy place? Then it continues: “Those who have clean hands and pure hearts.” Our “Confiteor” prayer expresses the same sentiments. Remember this, 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. 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:

We praise you

We bless you

We adore you

We glorify you

We give you thanks for your great glory. 

Recognize the great hymn?

It goes on with what amounts to a Creed that 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.

With that said, the Introductory Rite finishes with a summary prayer that in every instance 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 just exactly that, 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. That is not what happens in the Penitential Rite introducing the Eucharistic Liturgy. In short, to put it in bad, but common language: Going to Mass is not an excuse for avoiding the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Listen to these words that conclude the Syriac Liturgy with which the celebrant dismisses the assembly:

Go in peace, beloved brothers and sisters; we entrust to you the grace and mercy of the Holy Trinity, and to the viaticum that you have taken from the purifying altar of the Lord, all of you, near and far, living and dead, saved by the glorious cross of the Lord and signed by the sign of holy baptism. May the Holy Trinity forgive your errors, remit your sins, and give you the repose of your soul at your deaths. Have pity on me, a weak and sinful servant, with the help of your prayers. Go in peace, content and joyful, and pray for me.”

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 himself, 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 who speaks 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 then and there. 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. How does it happen? What does it mean? These are the questions to ask at this point.

We must notice a 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 with, through, 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 8^th 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 13^th 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 by which we say something in gesture about what we believe and who we are. There is a definite ethical dimension to this act. If you want to really get to the roots of this, the 26^th 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, first fruits, the sabbatical year, and gleaning 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. In as much as these gifts represent ourselves and therefore 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. (Read from the Maronite Rite the prayer of acceptance.)

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. In it we can recognize the fundamental elements of the world: the EARTH that receives the seed and makes it grow, the WATER and the ground grain mixed together into a dough, and the FIRE and hot AIR for baking. These are the elements of the universe. They are universal, and so is bread. 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, the presentation of the gifts is not limited to bringing bread and wine 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. As some of you know, I get side tracked sometimes by words, especially nouns and verbs. Indulge me for a moment. 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.

As I said yesterday, the Eucharistic prayers, all of them, will be more fruitful for us if we give them the same prayerful reflection we use on the Sacred Scriptures with Lectio Divina. If you do that, you will discover the dynamic of the two epiclesis of the prayer; one epiclesis over the gifts and a second over the assembly. An example: in Eucharistic prayer 2 the church prays: “Humbly we pray that, partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ, we may be gathered into one by the Holy Spirit.”The bodies are placed in relationship here: the Eucharistic Body of Christ and the Ecclesial Body. The goal of the first one is the second one. The whole purpose of the Eucharistic Body is the Ecclesial Body. “Why are we doing this, we should ask? The answer is to become what the Holy Spirit continues to do, gather into one the scattered children of God.

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. The truth of the Eucharistic body is an ecclesial body. 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. Augustine, in one of his sermons tells a story about Victorinus who converted to Christianity around 355. He was in the habit of reading the Holy Scriptures and studied all the Christian writings intensively. He said to friend in a private conversation that he was a Christian. The other replied: “Until I see you in Christ’s church I will not believe that or count you among the Christians.” With that, Victorinus said: “Let us go to the church: I want to become Christian.” We know he was not talking about a building here, but rather an assembly gathered together in the name of Christ.

All of this leads us to confirm that the central issue for us today is to believe in the Church as communion, as the Body of Christ. In a culture marked by individualism, competition, affirmation of oneself at all costs, even at the expense of others, it is difficult to be church, to be truly a community. Only from the Eucharist, from the prophetic gesture of the breaking of the bread, can the Christian communities of the West renew their awareness that the Church cannot be the Body of Christ where Christians fail to turn away from egoism and refuse to share their goods with the poor. What is not shared with others in communion is taken from others in injustice. According to Sirach, God does not like a sacrifice that is the fruit of injustice toward the poor because: “Like one who kills a son before his father’s eyes is the person who offers a sacrifice from the property of the poor.” (Sirach 34, 24)

Lenten Mission at San Marco Parish – Marco Island, FL

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

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 for a few minutes before we have lunch.

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 himself 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 of all 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 what God wants, or how to worship, 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.

Now remember how it goes? They are to take a year-old lamb, and the first thing they are told to do is to take it into their home. 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 you, 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, if you remember the instructions, when it was time for the Passover, the lamb was to be carried to the temple – again to keep it unblemished. Once there, it was lifted up in a place with a high wall where someone opened its throat catching the blood in a bowl. The lamb was presented not offered by that lifting up. 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. There can 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.

The question still stands: How has God asked us to worship him? 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 of the “Lame” Amen, 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. 

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 Kansas/Oklahoma Football game. 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 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. 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.

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 in 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 that custom 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. In the Byzantine Rite, there is 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, the 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.

All of this is a perfect example of liturgy begins to accumulate more stuff, just like we do in life. 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 4^th and 5^th century, they are much shorter than the Roman Canon that comes from the 16^th century. Longer still is Eucharistic Prayer Four which was adapted from a Swiss Canon composed in the 20^th century. So, back to the water and washing, since the priest and deacon hardly get dirty handling the gifts brought to the altar, some other meaning gets tagged to it in order to give some spiritual or pious meaning to the action. The washing of hands is a perfect example. 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 brevity 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. It cannot be observed or watched with the simple thought that the sacrifice of Christ meant that his body would be broken. We might ask what God is saying to us? The answer is in the action. The Body of Christ must be broken, and that Body is the ekklesia, the church. We have to be broken in service, and when we are, we are one with Christ. 

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 them. Likewise, introducing yourself to the 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. 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 the sign of the concrete 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 it out 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.

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 tighten 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 teaches 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. In the study and preparation, I gave for this day, I was constantly frustrated by the limits of time and the inadequacy of human words. With that in mind, I have humbled and say that I cannot find the words to express how wonderful it feels to be here with you back in Oklahoma. I told the people at Saint Mark at the last Liturgy we celebrated together that I would no longer be their pastor, but would always be their priest. I never forget you, and 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. “

March 5, 2023 at Saint Sebastian Parish, Ft Lauderdale, FL Opening of Lenten Parish Mission

Genesis 12, 1-4 + Psalm 33 + 2 Timothy 1, 8-10 + Matthew 17, 1-9

At Monsignor’s invitation, I’ve come over from Naples where I have retired like most other people there after serving in the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City for fifty years. I want to introduce you to someone who has a lot to say to us at this particular time in history. In December, with the beginning of Advent, we gave him a voice, and from now until the third of December, he will speak to us week after week revealing God’s plan for us and how God’s first plan, ruined by sin, could be restored.

We don’t really know his name, but we have figured out a few details about him that allow us to dig deep into the treasure he left us. It was sometime between the year 80 and 90 that this obviously devout follower of Jesus sat down somewhere with 

1 a few sayings of Jesus preserved by a folks who had actually heard Jesus speak, 

2. with a few notes about customs and events that actually happened at the time of Jesus 

3. and then finally with an early copy of something called; “The Good News” by man named Mark.

Whoever he was, with remarkable skill he wove these three sources together to produce a literary masterpiece the we call: “The Gospel of Matthew.”

He was just what was needed at the time, and I think we need him now just as much as they did then. It was a difficult and challenging time. Some could call it a crisis. The first generation “church” was strictly Jewish at the time. Suddenly, those Jewish followers of what many called, “The Way” found themselves at odds with everything they had known in the past. Out of nowhere, they found themselves in a polarized world that affected everything from family life to the local synagogue where they were no longer welcome. Gentiles were coming to seek a place among them wanting to follow the “Way” of Jesus. These foreigners did not speak their language. They could not and would not embrace the old ways. There was a big shift taking place that demanded a new and fresh look at the old traditions that offered a new way of looking at Christ that was not quite so “Jewish”. The old timers, those first Jewish converts suddenly were beginning to wonder if they had made a mistake, and they needed reassurance that what was happening was God’s plan. The Old Testament, which is all they had as a guide, their sense of Salvation’s movement, discipleship, and morality were all up for grabs and needed a new look.

This man sat down to provide some guidance to the church, some wisdom, and a new way to emerge from this crisis faithful to God’s will. Over time, he gets the name, “Matthew”. There is no reason at all to think that he is the same “Matthew” that appears as an Apostle in the story. In fact, that Matthew would have been too old to write it all. What we know is that he was very well educated. He used Greek is though it was his first language, and it is a much more polished Greek than what would have been found in those three sources he had at hand. His style in the language suggests that he may have been in Antioch or Syria.

Whatever, I am hoping to spend some time with you exploring what he left us becoming carefully aware that each of the Gospels has a different theme and purpose so that as you spend this year with Matthew’s Gospel you might more fruitfully hear and understand what is revealed. All of us over time have conflated all four Gospels into one in our heads making it very difficult to tease out the unique themes, issues, that each evangelist proposes. Sunday night, Monday, and Tuesday, I want to help you get better acquainted with this man and his message. He speaks to us today just as clearly and powerfully as he first did to that polarized and challenged community facing change they could never have predicted or controlled.

There is a natural division in his Gospel that sets us up for this week. The beginning that tells of Birth of Christ leading to his Baptism and public ministry. Then there is the Ministry and Preaching of Jesus that makes up the middle section that is divided into Five Sermons or you could call them, “Books. You know the first one: “The Sermon on the Mount.” Today’s Gospel came from the Fourth Book which is about the identity of Jesus. The last night, Tuesday, we will reflect on the Passion of Christ as Matthew tells it which is a perfect way to prepare for what we shall soon remember in Holy Week.

So, I invite you to join me. I encourage you to bring a Bible with you. I think you will be surprised at what you never saw or heard before, and how it all fits together. For instance, Matthew told us just now that this Transfiguration happened after six days. In other words, it is the seventh day. That detail places this incident in the context of a creation story: Jesus went up the mountain with his friends on the seventh day, the day of completion. Having just shared a hard teaching about his suffering and disfiguration, Jesus allowed them a glimpse of the future of all creation in the Transfiguration. While Mark and Luke give similar accounts of this moment, Matthew uses the Greek word that comes into English as metamorphosis. In Greek mythology, metamorphosis was what happened when the gods took on human form. There’s something to think about until we meet again. You might notice one other thing here. The disciples who are there are the same ones who go to the Garden with Jesus after the Last Supper.  They are very slow to get their faith together, but by showing us their slow growth in faith, he encourages us who are sometime just as slow.

St. Sebastian Lenten Mission

Sunday, March 5, 2023

Part One, The Infancy Narrative

Tradition has always called this great work, “The Gospel of Matthew”. As I said this morning, this man was educated well and uses Greek as though it may have been his first language. It is a much more polished Greek than what is found in his sources.  His language style suggests he may well have been in Antioch or Syria. Some call him a verbal architect because the work is actually “built” in a constructive and balanced way.

This the mission of Jesus, the whole idea of salvation in the mind of people gets brought into agreement with the mind of God. The earliest idea that springs from the Exodus and then the Old Testament Prophets is that the Israelites are the people of God and no one else. The public ministry of Jesus is restricted to the land and people of Israel, but they refuse him and his revolutionary ideas about God deciding to keep things just as they are. Then the great turning point comes with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. What happens in this Gospel is that Church, not Judaism becomes true people of God because it is the people formed by God’s Son, Jesus Christ, the fulfiller of the Law and the prophets. For those early Jewish converts, this is a stunning new development. Their privilege place, and the authority they felt because they were Jews suddenly means nothing. They wonder if they have made a mistake, so Matthew carefully and consistently reassures them over and over again by helping see that the Old Testament was leading up to this time and that it was God’s plan all along. 

Some like to think of Matthew as an Architect, and it’s not hard to see how or why. A “blueprint” of the Gospel shows us that there are five pillars that hold it all together. These are five discourses or Sermons with the same arrangement. First there is a narrative that is followed by a discourse or sermon. Each of them is very distinct, and they all end with the same words: “When Jesus finished these words.”  What we end up with is five books all bound together. The five can be counted and named this way.

1. The Sermon on the Mount
2. The Sermon on Mission
3. The Sermon on Parables
4. The Sermon on Church Order
5. The Sermon on Things to Come.

But that is for tomorrow, and Tuesday we will take up the Passion.

We must always remember that this is not history! This is theology. It is a revelation. It is set in time and in place, but the where and the when do not matter nearly as much as the fact that the Gospel is a living expression, an ongoing revelation by God as a way of speaking to us, calling to us, and embracing us. There is one purpose here, and it is not historical. It is to communicate a faith to us either to strengthen the faith that we already have or to awaken readers a new kind of faith. What we can discover is the faith that Matthew held and led him to write. This faith is so important to him that he will take no risk of being misunderstood since this faith addresses the meaning of existence. So, to avoid misunderstanding, there is a pattern to his writing that will become more obvious. He states what he wants to say, and then he states what he does not mean to say. It removes all ambiguity and leaves us with: position and opposition. 

Of all four Gospels, this is probably the most familiar and maybe the most popular. It gives us the Beatitudes, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Golden Rule. For older Catholics, it was Matthew’s Gospel that dominated the Sunday Gospel Readings before the reform of the Second Vatican Council. It was practically the only Gospel we heard with the exception of Luke’s Christmas story details and John’s Passion. This Gospel gives us a fusion of ethics, faith and morality. This writer sets himself in strong opposition against those who claim that accepting Jesus as Lord and Savior is all that is required of them. His great concern is to convince followers of Christ that genuine faith must be demonstrated in daily obedience to the way of life he proclaimed. Faith and Ethics. These are two sides of the same coin.

As I just said, the structure with its five pillars or five books comes out of Matthew’s intense fidelity to his Jewish roots and his knowledge of the community or church for which he writes. It is often proposed that his intention was to compose something new modeled on the Five Books of Moses in which narrative and legal material alternate. However, reducing this Gospel to that purpose misses the point that this, like all the other Gospels is first and foremost a Passion Narrative. Most scholars believe that the Passion of Christ was written first, and then what comes before was simply a way of explaining why it happened and how. Perhaps, a way of avoiding or giving too much attention to the structure with its five books is to more simply see that this Gospel has three parts:

1. Who is this Jesus the Messiah?
2. What did he have to say?
3. What does he do?

The first part centers on the Infancy, the Baptism, and the Temptation.

The second part is preparation for the passion.

The third part is ultimately what it’s all about, the Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

The Genealogy

With all that said, let’s take up that first part and think about who Jesus is for Matthew. It all begins with what is best called, the “Royal Genealogy.” Matthew makes and takes a great effort to answer the question: “Who is Jesus Christ?” No other Gospel writer found it helpful to start this way. He digs into the family background just as we might do. Members of my family along with me have done some serious research into our origins, our family history, identity, and movements. It’s been fun and has been full of surprises. Here Matthew reveals his convictions about Jesus: his origins lie in the old people of God (Abraham), and Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel’s history. Unlike Luke who traces the ancestry of Jesus back to Adam, the father of the human race, Matthew traces it only to Abraham, the father of the Jews. This is what would have been important and of interest to the Jewish/Christians who were to receive this Gospel.

For Matthew, Jesus is a Messianic King, so his line must come through David and the kings of Judah. Again, I insist, this is a theological statement, not history or a biological report! To get an idea of how clever it is and how Matthew uses this genealogical tool to express faith in Christ Jesus, you could take notice of how he changes the verb in the genealogy. Various translations will be different, but the change is there nonetheless. It is an active verb like “begot” or so and so “became”. When it comes to the last, with the incarnation Matthew switches to the passive voice verb form saying simply: “of her (Mary) was born Jesus, who is called the Messiah.” 

This last statement announces the story of Jesus’ birth contrasting the ordinary conceptions of David and Joseph with the extraordinary conception of Jesus. The whole list of people can only raise questions. The inclusion of women in what ought to be a male genealogy should raise an eyebrow or two. Among them are two foreign prostitutes: Tamar and Rehab. Then there is Ruth, a Gentile and Bathsheba with whom David committed adultery.  It’s almost as though he can’t bring himself to say her name, so he calls her “the wife of Uriah”. This is clearly not real. There is a theological statement here perhaps slightly prophetic about what is coming. Including these women reminded the Jewish and Gentile readers that God’s plan of salvation included Gentiles, even unrighteous Gentiles. What happens through this genealogy is an affirmation that Jesus is an authentic King, a descendant of King David. He is not usurper, but a legitimate ruler of God’s people.

Jesus then is an authentic Jew. This is important for Gentile Christians to understand, and Matthew wants to make the point.  One final point that can escape us easily is that in the introduction, the very first line of the Gospel Matthew says: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ.” He calls it a “book”, and with a subtle way that escapes us in English, there is a reference to the first book of the Bible, “Genesis”.  In Greek, genesis can mean “genealogy”, and it has other meanings, “birth” being one of them. Matthew’s choice of “genesis” as the key noun in the opening lines is worth some thought because he might have been promoting some association with the first book of the Hebrew Scriptures. It is likely that he wants to remind readers that in Jesus Christ, God had made a new beginning. Thus, the first Gospel could be called: “Genesis II, the Sequel.”

The Conception and Naming of Jesus

Joseph, in the genealogy, has already been brought forward into this Gospel, and as this narrative of the Nativity unfolds, he remains very much front and center. In Luke’s Gospel, Mary is the dominant figure. Luke emphasizes the essential passivity of the human response to God’s action: “Let it be done to me….” On the other hand, as we see here, with Joseph as the leading figure, the active component in the human response is important for Matthew. Three times Joseph is instructed by an angel in a dream, and three times he must DO something. This is consistent with Matthew’s understanding of Christian faith. It’s about action. Matthew makes that powerfully clear at the end of the Sermon on the Mount when Jesus says: “Not everyone who says to me Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of Heaven, but he who DOES the will of my Father who is in heaven.”

When the angel calls Joseph “Son of David”, it becomes clear that it is Joseph’s continuity with King David that gives Jesus that royal identity. That is Joseph’s role here: to give legitimacy as a Son of David to Jesus. Matthew gives us a Joseph visited by an angel more than once. For his first readers, Jewish Christians, a Joseph who dreams is a familiar scene. Remember the Joseph with the colorful coat who dreams Egypt through famine? When Joseph takes Mary into his home, it is more theological than respectful kindness. By doing this, he provides Davidic paternity on her child inserting her child into his proper place in salvation history. His key role next is to give the child a name, a name God has already chosen, and it is a name that does not show up in Joseph’s lineage or genealogy. It is a common name that originally meant “God helps”. But by the first century the popular explanation of the name was “God Saves”, and this is confirmed by the Angel who says: “You are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” 

The Visitors

In 1857 John Henry Hopkins was the rector at Christ Episcopal Church in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. He wrote a carol for a Christmas pageant in New York City, We Three King of Orient Are and with that, the first twelve verses of Matthew’s Chapter Two begin to lose every bit of revelation and meaning. In my opinion, he may have given us a catchy tune and sweet lyrics, but he sure did obscure Matthew’s intention with these verses. With his frequently used: “BEHOLD”, Matthew signals a new divine intervention, and that’s what we get here. The story as it goes in the second chapter has the “Holy Family” entirely passive. Joseph is not even mentioned. Mary is seen but no heard, and the child does nothing. The primary figures are nameless strangers from the east and Herod the King. In the original Greek as Matthew wrote it, he calls them “magoi”. It is a word with several meanings: magician, the Persian priestly caste, or a Zoroastrian. Scholars these days seem to prefer this last meaning, Zoroastrian or astrologers. It’s the best guess since a star has their attention.

They speak of “The King of the Jews”, and it’s worth remembering that this phrase will not be used again by Matthew until the Passion. He wants to plant that idea in our minds early on. Herod calls together the chief priests and the scribes, the very ones who will so violently oppose Jesus, and in stunning irony, they know exactly where the Messiah will come from, and they do not go! Only these Gentiles go to Bethlehem!

Matthew loves contrasts, and we get one of them in these verses as we see Herod “troubled” and the Magi “joyful.” And what’s Herod’s problem? He’s just been told that there is a “new-born king.” In other words, a king who is king by birthright. Herod is not. He is a usurper and a tyrant. He has no right to the throne and the title he got by murder. His trouble is really fear, and the contrast between joy and fear is going to show up again and again. The political and religious authority of these Scribes, Chief Priests, and Herod is now threatened, and they will go after the threat. You have to wonder, “What is the difference between the Gentile visitors and these local people Matthew puts into this story?” How is it that these Gentiles are on the move and the locals, who know as much as the Gentiles, do nothing? It’s the star. One group follows the light, the others stay in the darkness. For the first readers of Matthew’s Gospel, the image of the Israelites following the pillar of fire by night, light, the message speaks. Gentiles now get to see the light, and it leads them to something new.

So, these magoi show up with three gifts that Matthew mentions. The gifts have led us to think that there were just three of them which makes no sense because long distance travel would have required a lot of helpers. I blame John Hopkins for igniting imaginations, but there is nothing in all of the Scriptures that gives them names or indicates their country of origins. Such details and embellishments may help us enter into the Christmas Spirit, but they lead us far from the text, and the text is what matters. There have been all kinds of nice and pious meanings attached to the gifts, but the simple truth is: gold, frankincense and myrrh were nothing more than gifts fit for a king, and that is what Matthew is affirming. There is a King here, a king in the line of David. 

What’s with the star? All attempts to come up with some natural phenomenon are nothing but distractions from Matthew’s intent. He wants to report a supernatural phenomenon because something supernatural is going on. And then there is Herod. I’ll talk about him in a few minutes. Matthew is revealing a conflict that will continue in this Gospel. It’s like a preview. Gentile strangers (the Magi) accept Jesus. In contrast, there is the violent rejection of him by the Jewish ruler. It’s a hint about things to come.

From Bethlehem to Nazareth via Egypt

In the second and final half of this Chapter, Joseph is back, and in the mind of Matthew and his first readers there are always two Josephs. We need to have that in mind as well. If you are not really familiar with the story of Joseph in the Old Testament, you need to be if you want to listen to the first two Chapters of Matthew. Not only does Joseph act as a link to the Hebrew Scriptures, so does the story about leaving hastily in the night. This is a Passover story that reveals how God saves. In Matthew, God is saving the “New Israel”, Jesus.  This time, it is in reverse almost as though he was playing it back in order to play again with a different ending. Instead of going out of Egypt, Matthew has the New Israel (Jesus) going into Egypt. The killing of children by a tyrant takes place in Judea this time rather than in Egypt. Had he stayed in Judea, he would be dead. There is in this story the first hint of how important Moses is in Matthew’s Gospel, and how closely Matthew will identify Jesus with Moses. It almost begins to feel as though Moses was the ideal hero of Jesus. Remember how Moses ended up floating in a basket placed there by his mother when the very real threat of a massacre was happening?  That’s how Moses got to Egypt. He was spared the massacre of infants just as Jesus was spared the Massacre of infants. Joseph is informed that he can return with Jesus to his people because “those who sought the child’s life are dead,” just as Moses is instructed in Exodus 4, 10, “Go back to Egypt; for all the men who were seeking your life are dead.” Matthew uses the plural pronoun “those”. He does not say, Herod. Here is a perfect example suggesting strongly that the Exodus event is being repeated once again.

The whole purpose of writing this for Matthew is the identity of Jesus – now Jesus is identified as Israel, a “new” Israel. This whole sense of something new is developed by Matthew as he reverses the biblical themes. In this way he reveals his own faith conviction. Jesus is the son of David. Jesus is King. Jesus is Messiah. Jesus is the fulfillment of all the prophets and writings. One last piece of this identity is yet to be manifest, and it comes at the end of this chapter. Jesus needs to be designated as “Son of God” and this must happen outside of Judea so as to remove any hint that his authority might be based on power. His authority comes from being called out of Egypt, and the verb is the clue that leads us to understand what Matthew is revealing. Jesus is “called”. He has a vocation. His vocation is to be Emmanuel. That is to say, his vocation is to be the holy presence of God among us. This is why those Gentile visitors bow down before him. They are not bowing to an earthly king. They are in adoration of the divine presence.

Here is where Matthew presents his view of authority and how it applies to Jesus. Divine authority is not like human authority. It is not imposed from above by force, threat, or fear. That’s the kind of authority Matthew shows us in Herod. When God acts, it shows itself as an opportunity, something that happens in the normal course of human events. When God acts, there is then a call, a vocation by which humans accept or submit in order to carry out or complete God’s intervention. Matthew says to us, “Something new has happened. There is a new kind of authority that has taken flesh in this holy one. Joy is the result of finding this holy one. That is the response of those visitors, Joy.  Jesus is not to be found in places of power like Jerusalem or in the courts of the powerful like Herod. Confirming this, Jesus is called a Nazarene. Placing him outside of Judea because, the plan of God to save a New Israel has a new, wider, and more inclusive sense.

So, there is a final shift of geography from Bethlehem of Judea, because of its place in the prophecies, to Nazareth where everyone knew Jesus grew up and was at home. I have always found it strange that Matthew would think Jesus is safer in Galilee than in Judea because Galilee is ruled by Herod Antipas who murdered John the Baptist. This is quite different from Luke who has Mary and Joseph coming from Nazareth to Bethlehem where Jesus is born. Luke needs no reason for a return to Nazareth. That’s their home. For Matthew, Bethlehem was the home town of Jesus, and Nazareth in Galilee is a place of exile. It is there, in Galilean exile that Jesus will exercise his ministry. He will come home to Judea only to die.

One more time I must repeat the mantra of these sessions: This is not History. This is Theology. They are not the same.

So, what’s the Theology we get so far?

Were there three magi in history? It does not make any difference. It is irrelevant.

Matthew speaks of only three gifts, the traditional gifts for someone of royal birth. 

It’s not about Three Kings of Orient. It is about the birth of a King. 

Did the Holy Family really flee to Egypt in the night? It does not make any difference. 

What matters is that, like Moses, Jesus has a vocation and he was spared a massacre in order to fulfill it. 

To live this Gospel and listen to Matthew, we have to keep digging into the identity of Jesus and keep asking, “Who is this?” That’s what he is exploring with these stories. The truth about Jesus Christ. 

So far, in these first two chapters, we have this much Theology:

Jesus is the “Son of David”. Thank you, Joseph.

Jesus is the “King of the Jews”. Thank you, magi.

Jesus is the “Messiah.” Thank you, Herod’s scribes and chief priests.

Jesus is “Emmanuel”. Thank you, prophets.

Jesus is “Son of God”.  Thank you, John the Baptist and God the Father. (words heard at the Baptism of Jesus)

We shall also see

Jesus as A Teacher, “Rabbi”, and his disciples are learners. In Matthew, the teaching of Jesus is more important than miracles.

Jesus as A Story Teller (Parables)

Distinctive features in Matthew’s Gospel

Matthew’s Gospel is concerned with:

What followers of Jesus could hope for.

How followers of Jesus should behave in community

How the commandments of Moses and of Jesus relate (Is Jesus a Law Maker or a Law Breaker)

Matthew elevates the disciples who in Mark are dull and uncomprehending. Peter plays an especially important role in Matthew. (Peter walks on the water, he asks how many times to forgive, and only in Matthew is he the Rock.

Matthew makes villains out of the Pharisees who were really the spiritual leaders at the time. also (in)famously vilifies the leaders of the Jewish people, particularly the Pharisees. Some scholars have taken this harsh polemic as evidence that Matthew’s community had been expelled from the synagogue. Though the specific situation is difficult to know with absolute certainty, we can see clearly that there was serious tension between Matthew’s community of Christ-followers and the Jewish leaders with whom they interacted.

From John to Jesus

Now it is an interesting fact that only two Gospels begin with stories about the birth of Jesus, but all four begin his time of ministry with John the Baptist. That fact tells us that this is more important than angels, shepherds, and magi. Unique in Matthew’s Gospel is a conversation between Jesus and John. In fact, it is at his encounter with John that Jesus speaks for the first time in this Gospel. In this dialogue, Matthew sets matters straight over a dispute that arose between the followers of John and followers of Jesus. John’s followers think that if Jesus came to John for Baptism, Jesus was inferior to John; and if Jesus was Baptized, he must be a sinner. With this dialogue, that matter of priority is settled. It is thought by many scholars that the decision of Jesus to be Baptized was an act that gives him solidarity with sinners just as his death gives him solidarity with the dying, and his dining with sinners gives him solidarity with tax collectors and sinners. There is always this matter of “identity” going on beneath the surface in Matthew’s Gospel. In Luke’s Baptismal scene, John is preaching to “the crowds.” That is not the case with Matthew. Remember, as I said at the beginning, Matthew is addressing a growing crisis. He does not want the leaders of the Church to turn into a “brood of vipers” smug and secure in their privileged powerful position. He even makes his point more strongly by having the Pharisees, who are pious lay-people and the Sadducees who are the priestly nobility come together when in fact, at the time, they were in strong opposition to one another. Matthew believes that the leaders and the people of the Church he is writing to must not act like these Pharisees and Scribes who ultimately reject Jesus because they resist God’s plan for the church. “Do not act like those Pharisees” he says to lay people in his church. “Do not act like those Sadducees” he says to the priestly authorities in his church. “Look what they did!” he says.

The Baptism itself is passed over with one word making it clear that something more important is happening here than just someone coming forward in response to John’s call. It isn’t Baptism. If this scene were recorded for us as a musical or an opera, at the verse where Jesus comes up out of the water, trumpets would blast, lights would flash, and the whole chorus would sing out: “Behold in six-part harmony!” This is the event Matthew wants to be remembered. It is what we call, “a theophany” which is defined as the temporal and spatial manifestation of God in some tangible way. Another Gospel comparison tells us something more. In Mark’s baptismal scene, only Jesus hears the voice which says: “You are my beloved Son.” In Matthew, that fact has already been established. So, everyone hears the voice (not just Jesus) which says: “This is my beloved Son.” With that, we can say: “Thank you, God.” The identity of Jesus is complete. Yet, one more thing must happen to confirm his identity before Jesus begins his ministry. That is the temptation.

Both the location and the time are a direct link on the part of Matthew between the temptation of Jesus (the New Israel) and the temptation of the Hebrew people (the Old Israel) The location is the desert or the “wilderness” while time corresponds to 40 days and nights for the New Israel and 40 years for the old Israel.  We know who remains faithful this time around. We can easily be distracted by the details and the whole mood of this story. But for Matthew, the story is less concerned with the vanquishing of Satan than with the meaning of Jesus’ Divine Sonship. So, we have to get down into what Matthew is doing here. This is a “meditation” on what is implied by that heavenly declaration: “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” The fact that the first two temptations begin with Satan saying: “If you are the Son of God” helps us get the point. The English translation of the Greek word, ei is misleading because it does not really mean “if”. A more accurate word in the translation could be “since” because Satan is not trying to prove something. The other option in translation would then be: “Since you are the Son of God.” Satan is trying to convince Jesus that being God’s Son is a matter of powerfully working wonders rather than understanding and doing God’s will as found in the Scripture and fulfilling that will in trust and obedience.

In summary then, Moses and the Hebrew people in the desert are always in the shadows for Matthew’s story. The three temptations in the Gospel match in sequence the same three temptations faced by the Hebrew people: hunger, trust, and idolatry. When we sit with this story for a while, it is easy to begin to wonder what this has to do with the temptations we face today. I leave you with this. The basic, underlying temptation that Jesus shared with us is the temptation to treat God as less than God. We are hardly tempted to turn stones into scones but we are much more likely to turn corn into fuel to drive our luxury cars rather than using that corn to feed the hungry. We are constantly tempted to mistrust and doubt God’s readiness to give us what we need to face our trials. None of us are likely to test God by jumping off a cliff, but we frequently question God’s helpfulness when things go wrong forgetting the promise, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (II Corinthians 12, 9) Pagan idolatry is no more a temptation for us than it was for Jesus, but compromise with the ways of the world is a never-ending seduction, and the gods of money, the gods of power are always lurking in the shadows. In all of these things, we would do well to be continually grateful that we have a great high priest who, tempted as we are, was able to resist all such temptation by laying hold of Scripture and firmly acknowledging that only God is God, and that God isn’t us.

Monday, March 6, 2023

Part Two, The Mission and Message of Jesus

It is a peculiar fact that in age and at a time in human history when more people are literate that the Word of God has become more difficult to read. People born before the rational scientific revolution of the last few hundred years knew how to read sacred literature. They knew and they understood images, not photographs or paintings, but the kind of images found in time-tested mythology. They knew that the truth was passed on through symbols and stories. It is not that the stories were made up and therefore not true, but that the stories, the characters, their challenges, their failures, were told to reveal or convey the truth. What is peculiar, and very unfortunate is that we modern or post-modern people, however we want to call ourselves, have been infected with something more troubling that a virus. That something is best called “the scientific method.” Because of that, we have forgotten how to read sacred literature. We read the words all right, and there are countless Bible study programs to give evidence that people do read the Sacred Scriptures. The very fact that the Bible is still to this day is the most purchased book on the market.

Because we’ve been infected, we look for what we might call “empirical truth”. By that I mean, evidence, research, and reason. If there is no evidence, if there has been no research, and if it is unreasonable, it isn’t the truth. That kind of thinking will not allow the message, the truth, the revelation of our Sacred Writings to come through to us. The fact is, our ancient scriptures are full of mythical, symbolic images, and in order to understand our Scriptures, we must will willing to look for the symbols, to treat the sacred stories as powerful, truth-bearing stories, not historical reporting.

This bothers a lot of people, and that’s too bad because too often those who are shocked or upset about this fact are too afraid to move beyond the comfortable, and I’ll say, “lazy” way of just thinking that reading the Bible, especially the Gospels is like reading someone’s diary. Here’s an example. In Matthew 24 it starts with “Jesus left the Temple.” We think the Temple is a big building in Jerusalem, but not for Matthew. The Temple represents the entire system of life, faith, and economy. The entire verse says this: “Jesus left the Temple, and as he was going away his disciples came up to draw his attention to the Temple buildings”. The disciples are always doing things like that. It’s the end of the Gospel, the 24^thchapter out of 28, and they have not gotten the point! He’s leaving the Temple, and they are admiring the building. The disciples are stuck in the system the Temple represents, marveling at the structure, and the reply of Jesus is: “You see these stones? In truth I tell you, not a single stone will be left on another. It’s all going to fall apart. Stop putting your trust in it.” Jesus is talking about the end of the world, not about a building. He is talking about the end world as we have known it. And I’ll bet your sitting here thinking I’m talking about the apocalypse or the destruction of the universe or creation. No. I’m talking about the end of the world as we live it. Because when Jesus comes, when the Messiah comes, when the Kingdom of God breaks into our lives, the world as we knew it, saw it, and served it is all over. We cannot welcome the presence of Christ, the full coming of Christ until we have let go of the old. Too many live under the illusion that it is possible to worship this world order and at the same time say: “Thy Kingdom Come.” Yet, we can’t say, “Thy Kingdom Come” until we say, “My Kingdom go.”

Here’s the point in our discovery of Matthew’s Gospel and all scriptures for that matter. The story is always true, and sometimes it really happened. That’s the nature of all sacred scriptures. This is what I wanted you to understand in the first of these talks before Christmas, and you have to hang on to that as we go forward. Did three kings from somewhere in the east to Bethlehem? I don’t believe that really happened, and you don’t have to. But you do have to believe the truth that the story contains. Every nation on earth will come to adore the King. So, what does the virus of our age do to us, people spend hours and waist all kinds of time trying to prove by science and the study astronomy to see if there was some kind of special star. Those folks are done for when it comes to their ability to read the images and find the truth in the stories that may or may not be true.

So, let’s wade into the middle section of Matthew’s so well-structured Gospel. There is a signal phrase in this Gospel that signals a change. It’s like the “ding” in an elevator that tells you another floor has been reached. When Matthew writes this: When Jesus had finished these sayings…. it is the signal that one of the five divisions or books is finished. Sometimes these divisions are called, “discourses”. The sequence of events in Matthew matches Mark’s Gospel with groups of sayings inserted. An example is what we call “Sermon on the Mount.” Those sayings in Mark and Luke’s Gospels are scattered throughout but Matthew groups them together. So, Mark gives Matthew the structure, or sequence of events. 600 of the 661 verse of Mark are found in Matthew. Events from Mark have sayings added by Matthew. Then, unique to Matthew is great attention to the Old Testament. Remember that yesterday I spoke of Matthew’s audience being made up of primarily Jewish converts to the “Way”. Matthew wants them to feel OK about that conversion. Also unique to Matthew is his interest in Church affairs. This is the only Gospel that makes a direct mention of the “Church”. Much of it is directed toward situations that the Church of the first century was facing. With that said, let’s take up the five Books noticing that there is a progression that shows Jesus moving from his homeland in Galilee, to his rejection in Jerusalem, and then triumphantly back again to Galilee at the end.

The First Discourse: Chapters 3 to 7:28 concerns The Ethics of the Kingdom

Details tell us a lot. Jesus sits, the disciple’s approach, he opens his mouth and teaches. Those first two verbs suggest to us that Matthew wants us to see a king on his throne, and his disciples come like subjects in a royal court. Notice that the disciples are the ones he addresses. The crowd is just there listening in. This is not something private for an exclusive group. They can hear and potentially become disciples. Here is the Teacher addressing the learners.

In many English translations, the word Blessed is used which does not always carry into English the complex meaning of the word Matthew chooses in Greek. Congratulations would really be more accurate.

Congratulations to the poor in spirit. We should not miss the point that both Matthew and Luke open the Good News for the poor. Matthew adds “the spirit” leading us away from thinking about an economic condition. This is about the need for God.

Congratulations to those who mourn. This is not about the loss of a loved one. This is about sharing God’s sadness over sin and evil, war and injustice. It’s a longing for God to act and make things right. 

Congratulations to the meek refers not to those who are powerless, but to those who use power and strength for the right reasons. This is a description of Jesus who is humble. In Greek, the term Matthew uses refers to taming a wild animal. 

Congratulations to those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. These people hunger and thirst for the right things – their deepest longings are for fellowship with God. They will know a comfort only God can provide.

Congratulations to the merciful. This is not about feelings. It is about action that leads toward helping another. These are people who have experienced God’s mercy and know it was given to be shared.

Congratulations to the pure of heart. This is about the very center of a person’s innermost being, the place where decisions are made. The condition of one’s heart determines one’s actions. The issue here is moral purity. It assumes that communion with God depends on purity of heart, not purity of cups.

Congratulations to the Peace Makers. These are the ones who leave the altar to make peace with another. 

Congratulations to those persecuted for the sake of righteousness. The “righteous one” is Jesus in the mind of disciples. He is also the “Just one” leading the disciples to see that there is a price to pay for justice in an unjust world.

Congratulations to you when people revile you and utter all kinds of evil on my account. 

There is a switch here from the third person to the second person that few people ever notice, but it is important. Matthew is now addressing the Christian community. They are congratulated because they share the same fate as the prophets.

We are all so familiar with the Beatitudes, that we often tend to think that the first thirteen verses of chapter five is the sermon. Wrong! The Beatitudes are simply the opening for this Sermon which really gets down to business as Jesus begins to clarify, describe, or define the vocation of a disciple in the world. Immediately Jesus makes it clear that faith and discipleship are not private matters. Thinking or saying that “My faith is a matter between God and me” is the opposite of what Jesus says. The salt and light instruction ought to make that perfectly clear. Why should we do this? To win rewards or acceptance? Jesus is not telling disciples that by doing good works, they would earn salvation. Those good works are to give glory to God.

Then comes a clarification about the Law. It is not abolished. It is fulfilled which means complete, and in this sermon, disciples are instructed to complete or perfect the law in six areas: Murder, adultery, divorce, oaths, revenge and love of enemies. Each of these are introduced by a lead-in phrase: “You have heard it said, you shall not commit murder. “You have heard is said, you shall not commit adultery, and so on. With this instruction for us disciples, comes the practice of almsgiving, fasting, and prayer. When Matthew has Jesus get to this final instruction, he provides the model prayer. As this first discourse draws to a close, Jesus tells disciples about what kind of treasures matter, reminds them that they cannot serve two masters, that they are not to judge, remember that God provides, so disciples must ask trusting that God provides what they need, and finally, the discourse ends with the news that those who do the will of the Father will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. This discipleship is about doing something. A disciple cannot just be a “hearer” of the Word. There must be action. With the last verse of this discourse, Matthew tells us that the crowds were astonished at his teaching because he taught with authority, not like the scribes. With Matthew, as I said earlier, it is not miracles that bring the people to amazement. It is the Word Spoken.

Second Discourse: Chapters 8:1 to 11:1 Concerns the Mission

The second discourse begins with the usual Matthean bridge saying: “Now, when Jesus had finished saying these things……. It is a reflection on the authority of Jesus and the need for disciples to submit to that power and authority. Now the authority that raised such amazement is confirmed with a series of miracle stories that lead disciples to understand the Mission of the Kingdom. Divine power goes on display through Jesus, and it’s all about healing. There are three sets of stories that concern the fact that each person has been excluded from participation in the life of Israel. There is pattern of triads in Matthew’s Gospel. You will see it again and again. 

The first is the cure of a leper, the second is a gentile centurion and his son, the third is Peter’s mother-in-law who has not be able to serve. We can see immediately Matthew’ all-inclusive vision of the Kingdom of God with a look at the Church for which he is writing. That Church must have been very comforted with a story about a gentile being included as well as a woman. After the cure of Peter’s mother-in-law, we see one of Matthew’s principal characteristics, connecting this to the Old Testament prophets – “This was to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah, “he took our infirmities and bore our diseases.” Jesus has the power to restore and heal what is broken. It’s not just about diseases. It’s about the consequence of the disease, alienation from the life of the community.

The second set of three now show another kind of authority. Jesus gets into a boat, and the disciples follow him. Matthew says that Jesus wanted to go to “the other side”. That is a detail worth noting. It does not simply mean the opposite shore. It literally means the other side. It’s like a Democrat going to the Republicans. So, in those days, what is “the other side”? It is the Gadarene country. This was a pagan place, one of the ten Greek cities. That Jesus would head over there through a storm should raise an eyebrow or two. It’s not only a pagan place, there are swine there, but that does not stop Jesus. Then, another sign of his authority is given as he cures a paralytic and forgives his sins. The people were filled with awe not because he cured the paralytic, but because he forgives sins. It is what he says, not what he does that Matthew goes after, and he tells us that they glorified God who had given such authority to human beings. Matthew’s use of the plural reminds readers that this authority to forgive sins did not leave earth when he, the Christ, was exalted in to heaven. So, Jesus has authority over fear (the consequence of a storm at sea), over evil forces, and over sin. There is the triad again. Disciples of Jesus shall inherit that authority.

As a bridge to the third set, the story of Matthew’s invitation is told and Jesus goes to dinner with sinners providing the occasion for an instruction – a discourse that is summed up simply by saying it is mercy God desires, not sacrifice, and Jesus (and therefore his disciples) came to call sinners so he comes as a doctor to the sick.

The third set of miracles begins with a dead girl being raised to life and then a woman with a hemorrhage is cured. What unites these stories is faith. In the first, it is the faith of the father who asks Jesus to restore his daughter. Then comes a woman who just wants to touch Jesus.  Again, it’s about faith as Jesus asks two blind men: “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” Finally, there comes the healing of a death-mute. It takes four verses, but it is important because, for the first time it introduces conflict. The Pharisees say: “By the ruler of the demons he casts out the demons.” The section ends with the final selection of the Twelve and their sending out to proclaim the good news: to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers and cast out demons. They are to go only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. There is no universal outreach yet. Then, we get what must by now be familiar words: “Now, when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.”You know what that means: Discourse Three.

The Third Discourse: Chapters 11:2 to 13:53 Ministry in Galilee & the Nature of the Kingdom 

Up this point, Jesus has been the sole missionary. Now he makes partners for preaching the gospel and healing. There is a somber mood to this Discourse as it unfolds in Matthew’s Gospel. Refusal to accept the gospel will be the rule, not the exception which leads to parables about judgement at the end of this third discourse. The negative response we first saw at the end of Discourse two will grow. This is a serious reminder that the gospel is not the story of a religious hero but of a dying savior, the final discourses lead us to the passion narrative.

This section begins with John’s disciples coming to Jesus to ask if Jesus is “the one who is to come.” True to form, Matthew links all of this to the Old Testament as Jesus declares that John is “Elijah who is to come.” Elijah’s task in the Old Testament was to prepare the people for the coming of God. It didn’t go well then, and that is what is happening now. After a thanksgiving prayer to his Father that reveals his relationship with the Father, he issues the Great Invitation: “Come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest.” There is something very important being promised her, and it isn’t a vacation. The burden that Jesus wants to lift is the burden of the law being imposed too heavily. So, the next two episodes concern the Sabbath, and a conflict arises because disciples of Jesus pluck some grain while walking on the Sabbath, and Jesus cures a man with a withered hand in a synagogue on the Sabbath day. Remember, Jesus did not come to abolish the law. Yet, the law must yield to a higher principle: Mercy. More conflict is the result. So, Matthew says: When Jesus became aware that the Pharisees were conspiring against him seeking a way to destroy him, Jesus departed. 

This third discourse continues with a demand for a sign. Until this point, the Pharisees have been the source of conflict. At this point Matthew introduces the Scribes into the conflict. They are the ones who interpret the law. They are the professionals, so to speak. The Pharisees, are lay people who teach the law and show how it is to be observed like Catechists in our day. The opposition is growing. Finally, the focus of this discourse emerges with a series of parables about the Kingdom.

In the Greek language, the word “parable” comes from a verb that means “set side by side”, that is “to compare”. In Hebrew, there is slight change as “parable” begins to mean something hidden. Matthew is using the word “parable” with its Hebrew nuance which is why he speaks about “things that are hidden”. Jesus now uses parables to respond to the rejection he experiences. They all begin with the same phrase: “The Kingdom of heaven is like…” These parables do not describe the future or what the Kingdom will be like. They are concerned with the present

Finally, there comes three parables about sowing: (1) seed thrown everywhere, (2) someone sews weeds among the wheat, (3) Mustard Seed and Yeast. Deeply distressed about the mixed state of the Church, Matthew uses these parables to remind one group that just because they are church members is no guarantee of salvation. They need to change and bring a harvest from what God has planted everywhere. The general message is that those who receive the word of the kingdom and understand it not just intellectually but with commitment at the depth of their being, will be able to withstand temptation and tribulation. Those are the ones who will produce a bountiful harvest in terms of the good fruits of obedience to God’s will.

This discourse reveals that the Kingdom of Heaven is not a thing that can be acquired as a permanent possession. It is a life-style, a gracious gift of participation in God’s life. With that, Matthew writes: “When Jesus had finished these parables, he left that place, came to his home town and began to teach the people in their own synagogue….”

The Fourth Discourse: Chapters 13:54 to 19:1Opposition & The Governance of the Kingdom

Jesus is now at home. When he takes his turn in the hometown synagogue there is amazement, wonder, and suspicion. At this point, Matthew tells us about the death of John the Baptist as one more reminder about the hostility disciples of Jesus will find in this world. He then reports the only miracle reported in all four Gospels which suggests that this is of unusual importance. This is the feeding of the multitude. There are two feeding stories in Matthew. Being the people that we are, infected with the “virus” of science, the question always lingers: “Did this really happen?” My response is as always: “This is not history. It is theology.” It does not make any difference. We have to ask what it means, not did it happen. Details give us a lead. Bread and Fish are the basic ingredients of a peasant’s meal in Galilee. Jesus provides no cooked dishes, luxurious fruit, and there is no wine. These simple details tell us that God can provide what is necessary for life. While not the “Banquet” we might expect in the Kingdom of God, what we see is that the Messiah is the host who supplies what his people need out of compassion. Matthew reminds the Church that they are to give, to share, to feed, and to serve with the further reminder that God uses what we bring.

Then something happens that again raises a question. Jesus walks on water. “Did that really happen? How did he do that?” Some might think of this as evidence of divinity confirming that Jesus is God since he can walk on water. But, Peter does the same thing which means this is something that comes from God. It is not God walking on water. This is not some kind of “show off” stunt. Details make that clear. The boat is far from land. The boat is in trouble. This is a story about Jesus coming to the aid of his threatened disciples. This is about a rescue not about the nature of Jesus.  It is worth noting that Matthew refers here to “those in the boat” not to the Twelve or the Apostles. It’s about all of us dependent upon the savior. While the other Gospel writers tell the story of Jesus on the water, only Matthew includes the part about Peter exploring what it means to be caught midway between faith and doubt. Peter represents all who dare to believe that Jesus is Savior, taking their first steps in confidence that Jesus will sustain them. I have always found it very important to remember that in John’s Gospel, faith or believing is always a verb, never a noun. It is not a thing or a possession. It is an activity.

Suddenly, once on land, Pharisees come from Jerusalem. This is an ominous statement. Jesus only goes to Jerusalem to die. This presence of the Pharisees coming from Jerusalem is a like a dark cloud on the horizon. They come to start trouble, and it’s over the washing of hands and what is clean and what is unclean. Jesus never suggests that the law and the customs around the law should be done away with. He simply wants to remind his listeners of the reason for the law so that the law will be observed because of faith not obligation or fear. It would seem that he is also writing about these things to support the Jewish converts who are a minority in his predominantly Gentile Church. He seems to be protecting them from ridicule for wanting to preserve their life-style. We would do well to remember that in today’s multi-cultural and multi-generational church. Matthew is revealing that there are disputes in his church over life-style.

To affirm the presence of Gentiles among believers, there comes the story of the Canaanite Woman who begs for help. The response of Jesus seems harsh to our ears when he refuses at first and makes that comment about taking children’s food and throwing it to the dogs. The word Matthew uses for dog means “a household pet”. That’s not as harsh sounding as “DOG” in English. The whole scene is a test of her faith, and by responding positively to her, Jesus signals that the Kingdom is going to be wide open. It is this emphasis on faith that makes Matthew’s version of this story slightly different from Mark’s. Matthew takes care to show us believing Gentiles in contrast to the unbelieving Pharisees and scribes from Jerusalem. Jews reject Jesus. Gentiles come to him.

After this scene there comes a second feeding story. There is with this one a mass healing as well as a mass feeding, and importantly it happens on a mountain. This is theology not geography. This is about God’s people being gathered on the mountain of the Lord as Isaiah describes the end of time. What happens to them there is a theological expression of salvation: healing and feeding in abundance. Why two feeding stories? Two different messages. The first is about God providing what we need using what we have. The second includes details that have no connection to Israel. Instead of twelve baskets leading us think of the Twelve Tribes, this time there are seven baskets. At that time people counted seventy nations on earth. Then trouble comes again as the Pharisees return wanting a sign from heaven. Jesus is having none of this since he’s been working signs and wonders all along and they can’t see what’s right in front of them because what he says threatens their life-style and security, and they want none of that. In effect, what Jesus says to them is “No. You can’t see what’s going on here.” So, he takes to the boat and heads to the district of Caesarea Philippi. There, with one of the greatest cities the Romans had built high on an out-cropping of rock above them, he asks a question: “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” He uses his favorite title, “Son of Man” which comes right out of the Old Testament (Daniel 7) meaning an exalted human like figure. In other words, the “Son of Man” is perfect humanity. At that moment, Peter declares Jesus to be the Messiah, and at that point of Matthew’s Gospel, things change, the mood changes, and the whole energy increases.

The Fifth Discourse: Chapters 19:2 to 26:1 Jesus and the Future of the Kingdom

As always, the next discourse begins: “And when Jesus finished these sayings.” Now Jesus departs from Galilee and comes into “the region of Judea beyond the Jordan” well on his way to Jerusalem. Since Peter’s declaration, Jesus now teaches the Twelve even though the crowds follow him. The Pharisees are back now with their evil intent. They start with a mocking question about marriage and divorce. The response of Jesus makes even more obvious Matthew’s respect and concern for the law. While the Pharisees may be trying to trap Jesus into disregarding the law, Matthew’s Jesus interprets the law using other scriptural verses to back up his argument, and it works. They are humiliated before the crowd, and that makes them all the angrier.

As the journey continues there are three short scenes which reveal what it takes to become a child of the Kingdom. The first is the story is about children with which Jesus embraces and makes it clear that children have a special importance. Of course, in that culture, children were not valued, but in the mind of Jesus, a child is the perfect example of what it means to be helplessly dependent on the Father in heaven. It is not unreasonable to suspect that Matthew is also urging his church to include children in every aspect of the communities’ life. The second of the three scenes is about a young rich man who thinks perfection comes from doing things. The perfection Jesus expects is undivided devotion. He can’t do that. He has too many things. He’s rich. Then comes a parable that reveals a God of compassion rather than a God of justice. In that parable a vineyard owner pays workers the same wage regardless of how long they have worked. The climax of this parable is: “am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?” Matthew is challenging some seniority claims among the early disciples as former pagans begin to assume roles in the community. The old-timers don’t like it.

Having arrived in Jerusalem, Jesus goes to the Temple. As Matthew tells the story of the “cleansing”, there is some refinement as judgement is tempered by grace. Because we often blend all of the Gospel events together, we can often miss some details that are unique to one or the other of the Evangelists, or we think that they all say the same thing. Not so. This story is a perfect example. It is unlikely that Jesus stopped the commerce of the Temple even for a short time one day. He would have been arrested on the spot. More than anything, this event is symbolic. Since it is told in all four Gospels there is probably some historical fact to this. With the other three Gospels, there is a mood of judgement. In Matthew, right in the middle of this Jesus responds to the blind and the lame who came to him in the temple. He cured them. Matthew does not give us some wild angry judge. There is a moment of compassion in the middle of it. The scene ends with conflict between Jesus, the Chief priests, and the scribes. Jesus then heads out to Bethany to spend the night.

In the morning he is hungry, and with the story of that cursed Fig Tree. It’s really not about the fig three however. It’s about faith and prayer. It is a symbolic gesture (remember, this is theology not history) with which Matthew uses the judgement on the tree as a symbol of what happens to people without faith or prayer. When Jesus gets to the Temple, they are waiting for him with more trouble. At this point, Matthew uses parables to further give focus to the Father Jesus has come to reveal. First there is the parable of the two sons, one who says no and then does what is asked, and one who says yes and does nothing. The second parable tells of an owner who sends people to collect his portion and the tenants kill them. The theological focus of this parable comes not from the cheating tenant farmers but their violent treatment of those the owner sends. Matthew includes this parable here to show the rejection of the Messiah – because of it, Israel is now decommissioned. It’s elect status as “light to the Gentiles” is taken over by the church. Now comes the third parable about the wedding Feast in which the defiant refusal to participate in the wedding feast matches the refusal of the tenant farmers to share the fruit.

Jesus then leaves the Temple, and the final address concludes as Jesus speaks of the Temple’s destruction which was not some divine fore-knowledge. Anyone with any sense would have known that given the corruption, the lack of faith, the internal conflicts within Israel itself, there would be big trouble ahead that would probably end with the destruction of the Temple. Israel as it was then was destroying itself by refusing to listen to Jesus. Matthew now switches into a different style of writing here called: Apocalyptic describing the signs of the end of the ages. It must not be forgotten that this is not a prediction of the future. It is an interpretation of things already happening that mark not the end of the world, but the end of age. The last discourse closes with talk of the last things, the Judgement. The final parable concerned the coming of the Son of Man who is easily recognized as the “bridegroom”. The waiting maidens the are easily identified with “disciples.” But the condemnation of the foolish maidens raises the question as to who does belong to the group of “disciples.” The criterion for knowing who belong and those who do not belong is what people do or do not do. What one is to do is not the issue here. What matters is that something is done before it’s too late. Whatever is done must be done because of mercy and compassion, for no other reason. Because this is what the perfect human being (Son of Man) does. Then we hear the familiar words: “When Jesus had finished saying all these things….” 

Tuesday, March 7, 2023

Part Three, The Passion & Resurrection

(Begin with singing Bach’s “O Sacred Head”)

As we begin, it should go without saying by now, but I’ll say it again: This is not History. What we are given is rooted in certain basic facts, but the intention of all the Gospel writers is to interpret history, not report it. In other words what is important is what it means, not how it happened. There are here powerful theological motives for writing. Frequently important texts from the Old Testament will weave in and out shaping the way the story is told to assure us that what happened to Jesus was always God’s plan. It was not some accident or the result of some terrible mistake or the triumph of evil over good. This is God’s plan. 

It all begins as each section of Matthew’s Gospel has begun with that formula: “When Jesus had finished these things….” This time another word is slipped into the signal phrase: “When Jesus had finished all these sayings…” Now there is nothing more to say.

Matthew’s desire to show the fulfillment of all the prophets moves Jesus toward his death, and so the Jesus of Matthew’s Gospel, knowing the prophets, knows everything that is to take place. This is not because he has some Divine foreknowledge, but because he knows the prophets. That is important to understand. If his Divine Nature interferes with his human nature, something is wrong. What we shall see in Matthew’s Passion is the great dignity of Jesus as Son of Man, Son of God, Messiah, and King. This is Matthew’s statement about who this is, about the identity of Jesus. Around this Matthew clusters some other themes: the responsibility of the people of Israel for the blood of innocent Jesus, the founding of the church by the crucified and risen Jesus, the weakness of Peter and others in contrast to the strength of Jesus. Remember, Matthew is writing this Gospel to encourage and strengthen a church that is troubled by persecution, division, and betrayal. The failure of Peter, the fate of Judas, the failure of Jewish leaders all warn and challenge the Christians to whom he writes.

And so, it begins with Chapter 26. The fourth and final prediction of the Passion begins this section as an introduction. In the Greek, there is a change in verb tense that somehow did not get carried over into most English Translations, but I think it is worth noting. In the three previous predictions of the Passion Matthew uses the future tense. Now it is in the present tense saying: “The Son of Man is being handed over.” There is also great significance to the use of the passive verb “is being”. This is Matthew’s skill in making it clear that this is God’s doing. God is in control. God’s will or plan is being completed. In Matthew’s brilliant construction of this Gospel (Remember I pointed out earlier that some scholars refer to him as an “architect”) there is a “flash back” scene when he tells us that the chief priests and elders of the people gathered together conspiring to kill Jesus. That’s the same gathering with an earlier plot to kill Jesus in the infancy narrative. The Gospels do not agree on dates – another indication that this is not a history report. In Matthew, Jesus dies on Passover, the 13^th day of Nisan which fell on a Friday that year creating a theological connection between the sacrifice of the Passover Lamb and the prediction of his death by Jesus. Those leaders want to avoid arresting Jesus during the Passover fearing a riot because at this point the people are on the side of Jesus, and it was believed that the Messiah would appear at Passover. But, since God is in charge, their plan to avoid the Passover arrest does not work out as they planned.

The whole narrative for Matthew is like a great drama. So, after a scene with the gathering of the chief priests and elders, there comes another scene in which a woman with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment pours it over the head of Jesus. The clueless disciples don’t get it, but Jesus declares this as one more indication of what is to come, the anointing of his body for burial. But there is even more to this anointing since the Messiah was to be “The Anointed” one. Matthew affirms the role of Jesus at this point as the Messiah. It’s an affirmation that will be needed as Israel’s expectation of what the Messiah will be crumbles as the passion unfolds. All through Matthew’s Passion we ought to take notice that the women come off much better than the men. This is the first example of that, and there will be more. The women are more loyal and unselfish and certainly braver. The contrast is shocking. In this scene, the men quibble over the legitimacy of a generous act of love, while the woman manifests the true spirit of discipleship. Then the contrast gets sharper between the woman, who cannot qualify as a member of the Twelve because of her gender, and Judas who appears in the next scene bargaining away his teacher for a paltry thirty pieces of silver. She has just lavished her money on a gift for her master. This happens at the home of Simon the Leper, and we know nothing about him. In Matthew, this woman is unnamed. Jesus interprets her action for us as an anointing for his burial. In Matthew’s Gospel, there will be no report of women coming to the tomb to anoint the body, and there is no Nicodemus with spices for the anointing. It happens here.

This flows very naturally into the next scene which in contrast has Judas going into action. The amount of money is only mentioned in Matthew because it is a prophecy fulfillment (Zechariah 11:12). It is a demeaning sum. In the Book of Zechariah, a slave is gored by an ox, this is the amount in reparation to the master of the slave. In other words, he’s only a slave and not worth much. Matthew offers no motive for the treachery of Judas. While some may want to make greed the motive, the little sum of money makes that improbable. Some want to propose that Judas wanted to force Jesus to become the Messiah they wanted to compel some miraculous event. Matthew is simply not interested in that guessing game. I think Matthew is content to let the mystery of evil stand on its own. Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes good people do bad things. There doesn’t need to be some other motive. The Jewish leaders who had wanted to delay the arrest of Jesus lose control with the offer Judas makes to them. Now their plan to wait will not work.  Judas is in control of the timing and arrest. This along with the knowledge that Jesus has been showing all along affirms that this is the plan of God unfolding just as God designed not the work of some enemies. 

At this point, Matthew has the cast of characters on stage: Jesus, his disciples, his opponents, and the machinery of betrayal and death begins to turn. It is now the eve of the Passover, and with almost majestic solemnity Jesus, preparing for his last Passover gives precise directions to disciples on how and where the Passover will be celebrated. Following the instructions of Jesus, the Passover celebration begins, and the mood is filled with sadness and exaltation. It is also amusing to me that translations into English (like the popular New American Bible) from Matthew’s Greek mention a “table.” One commentary suggests that the translators were influenced by Leonardo da Vinci’s painting. There is no mention of a table in the original Greek. They were lying on cushions as the custom would have suggested. In that culture, any meal is a sacred moment at which a powerful bond of friendship is celebrated. Eating with someone means something beautiful, powerful, and sacred. When Jesus says: “He who has dipped his hand in the dish with me is my betrayer” there is a disturbance not because this exposes one of them, but because they have all done that. In that circumstance, they all ate out of a common dish. So, when Jesus predicts that someone will violate that sacred bond of friendship, there is a disturbance that raises a question that can find an echo in every human heart: “Is it I, Lord?” As we shall see, they all betrayed him, not just Judas. Here is an example of a technique in Matthew I mentioned earlier. We know something the characters do not know. For us, the betrayer is revealed as each of the disciples uses the word, “Lord”. When Judas asks his question, he says, “Rabbi.” If they thought Judas was a betrayer, they never would have let him leave the room. In Mark’s Gospel, it is unbelievers who address Jesus by that title. Judas seems to fascinate Matthew, and there is more about Judas here than in the other Gospels.

Matthew assumes that his readers know how a Passover meal is celebrated, so there are little details until Jesus says something out of the ordinary. Imagine how surprised those disciples were when Jesus took the bread as was the custom but makes no mention of the ancient exodus as would normally happen. Instead, he says: “This is my body” leading Matthew’s readers to realize that a new exodus will occur. In the ritual, the second cup was filled with red wine symbolic of the blood of the Passover, the blood of lambs, sprinkled on the doorposts of Israelite homes so that the avenging angel would pass over. Again, the words of Jesus are a surprise. He makes no mention of the past, but speaks of the new covenant and the future. Here is that shift always in the shadow of Matthew’s Gospel. There is a new Israel, a new chosen people, a new covenant, and that people will be established by doing this in his memory. With a promise that they shall all drink the fruit of the vine in the Kingdom, they sing a hymn and depart. With that promise of a great reunion in the Kingdom of Heaven, the meal ends on a very hopeful note. They sing the traditional song that concludes the meal, the Hallel which is Psalms 113 through 118. These are psalms of praise. Taken as a whole, they are songs of deliverance.  They are joyful and grateful.

On the way Jesus speaks of their faith being shaken, and Peter speaks up with great bravado. Again, we know something he doesn’t know his promise to never deny Jesus will be broken, and then Peter sleeps. Matthew takes great care to affirm the humanity of Jesus with the Gethsemane scene. Jesus is free to rebel against God’s will, but he learns through prayer to say not my will but yours just as he taught us about prayer. The same three disciples who were with Jesus at the transfiguration are with him now. Then they fell on their faces. Now Jesus falls on his face and they sleep. With terrible irony, Judas is awake and leading a crowd to the garden. On the surface, it would seem that Judas has taken the initiative here and is in charge, but the way Matthew presents this scene, it is Jesus who is in control What happens Jesus could easily have prevented, but he chooses not to do so. Judas calls Jesus “Rabbi” again, and Jesus calls him “friend.” The kiss is really an insult because a student/disciple would and could never be that intimate with their Rabbi/Teacher unless invited to do so. With this detail, Matthew would lead us to see that Judas is repudiating the authority of Jesus. Violence erupts, a sword is drawn, and the disciples flee, and Jesus insists that violence is not the answer nor the greatest power. It is love.

Now begins the second part of Matthew’s passion, the condemnation to death. The charge is a threat to destroy the Temple, and that is serious not because it was God’s dwelling place but because it provided the priestly caste of their livelihood and status. For them, that is most serious. This threat to destroy the Temple was a threat to national identity, self-understanding, and national pride. It was sacrilegious and treasonous. In the end however, the charge is Blasphemy. At this point in Matthew’s Passion narrative, we run right into the fact that this is not history. There are all kinds of details here that are simply in conflict with history. For instance, the Jewish high court would not have convened at night, in a private home on the eve of a major festival. Add to that fact a law which said a capital trial could not be held at night. The only way to reconcile these events is to suppose that there was a quickly assembled inquiry at night with a formal verdict being passed in the morning. It could be argued that this conflict could be explained by the fact that this was extraordinary and required secrecy and haste hence the night trial. However, St Luke has doubts about this because he sets the trial before “the council of the elders of the people” on Friday morning at its regular meeting place. John’s Gospel has no trial of Jesus before a Jewish court. So much for trying to make history out of this. 

Matthew wants us to see more than a rather odd and clumsy effort to make Jesus look guilty and set the conditions for Pilate’s verdict. The focus and purpose of this scene is to provide Jesus with the opportunity to declare the purpose of his mission. This helpless victim is gradually revealed as the builder of the New Temple, the Son of God, the Messiah who sits at the right hand of God. The judges become the judged! The whole scene is framed by the report of Peter’s denial in the courtyard. As the cock crows and he remembers what Jesus had said, he recognizes that in spite of his denial he is loved and he weeps. Caiaphas, frustrated at the silence of Jesus asks a question, and we know the answer. “Are you the Messiah, the Son of God?” Caiaphas ends up doing what Peter cannot do. Yet we could hear what Caiaphas says as bitter sarcasm: “Are you the Messiah”. It’s like saying: “Is this all we get?” The silence of Jesus up to this point is one more example of a refusal to stop what his happening. But he cannot remain silent. So, when the High Priest’s question touches on the truth about Jesus as Messiah, Jesus simply says: “You have said it so.” With that, by assenting to the title Son of God, they have all they need. It’s Blasphemy, and that required the death penalty. Leaving the scene, Matthew switches back to Peter.

When it does come to Peter’s denial, I find it quite interesting that Matthew never mentions his name again. The very prediction of Peter’s denial affirms once again that Jesus is Prophet just as the soldiers mock and taunt him calling him “prophet”. After Peter’s denial, there is another scene in which Jesus is transferred to the Roman Governor. Then it’s back to Judas who, like Peter is overwhelmed with regret and attempts to return the thirty pieces of silver to the leaders confessing that he has betrayed innocent blood. The two betrayers stand in contrast. One repents and weeps. The other does not have repentance because that leads to a change in life. He only has regrets, despairs and then he dies. 

Since only the Roman Governor could pass a death sentence, the “authorities” had to find a way to get what they wanted. Blasphemy would mean nothing to the Roman Governor. So, they switch tactics, and with the Roman Governor the charge is changed to suggest treason as Jesus is presented as King. Dreams which have an important part at the opening of Matthew’s Gospel are suddenly again used as the wife of Pilate intervenes because of a dream. She is only mentioned in Matthew’s Gospel. This whole scene is theological in that it carries the message that the death sentence handed down by Pilate is really the responsibility of the leaders of the people who assume full responsibility resulting in what is stated in verse 43 of chapter 21: “Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation producing the fruits of it.” There is no real historical evidence that there really was a custom of releasing a prisoner at Passover time. Luke’s Gospel never mentions this at all. That does not mean it didn’t happen, but the question pushes us to ask what it means. Pilate calls him “famous” The adjective Matthew uses, different from Mark’s is not so dark and threatening. Mark calls him a murderer. Matthew simply says he is famous which makes the choice of the people more interesting to all Christians still tempted to choose someone famous over Christ. Our present-day hero worship of celebrities is the point.

As I said, this whole scene is Matthew’s way of affirming the guilt of the Leaders. This is not something Pilate does, but he does recognize that Jesus could be used as a figurehead by a revolutionary movement. It is important when reflecting upon this and the words: “His blood be upon us and our children” as a theological conviction that Israel as a whole has rejected its Messiah in a final and definitive way and therefore deserves to be deselected as God’s special people. Matthew describes the crowds at this point, and it is important to recall that throughout the Gospel, “the crowds” were always on the brink of acknowledging Jesus as God’s son, but they have not been won over to faith in Jesus. They followed, they marveled, and they praised, but their highest praise, that Jesus is the son of David is inadequate. The crowds never called Jesus “Lord” or “Son of God”, but the disciples do. When thought of this way, as Matthew intended, this is less an attack on Jews as an explanation for the Gentile mission and for the church in which Gentiles are not predominate. This is about rejection not about murder. In a very real way, Israel (the Jewish leaders) hand Jesus over to the Gentiles (the Romans) in an ironic but clearly understood theological statement.

The abuse of Jesus as Matthew presents it leads to the crucifixion. These “soldiers” are not Roman legionaries. They would have been “auxiliaries” not Jewish inhabitants of the area. “Mercenaries” is what we would call them today. They had no love for the Jews, so having an opportunity to abuse the “King of the Jews” was all they needed. They mock the “king”. He gets a scepter (a reed). He gets a crown (of thorns). He gets the royal robe (a soldier’s red cape). 

When presenting the crucifixion, Matthew gives us very little by way of details. There is nothing said about nails or pounding. He simply says: “having crucified”. The details given are not about the victim but about the spectators in this Gospel. First there is Simon the Cyrenian. No details come from Matthew. We are not informed that Jesus is too weak. Simon is simply a silent spectator. There are the soldiers who fulfill a prophesy by offering sour wine to Jesus as they split up his clothing. The two thieves, like the soldiers are negative observers. They say nothing in Matthew’s Gospel. Just their placement on the right and left ironically suggests a royal setting. Since these observers have no lines, there are others who do speak, and that gives them some prominence. These are the people passing by who mockingly quote Jesus about the temple coming down and his messianic claim. For Matthew, this is a refrain from the temptation in the desert during which Satan tempts Jesus to draw on supernatural power and save himself. The leaders of the people are there too speaking about and actually quoting what Jesus has said and done. The message from Matthew through this scene is that those who became Christians had to face a challenge from family, friends, and acquaintances. Matthew’s crucifixion scene speaks to this by showing that the indignities Jesus suffered as Messiah were all in accordance with the prophecies. Israel had expected an all-powerful Messiah, but God had sent one who would renounce the use of force against his enemies and submit instead to suffering and death for “the Son of man came not be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

The moment of crucifixion is an enthronement: Jesus, crowned, is surrounded by an improbable retinue of two others who die in the same way. The entire crucifixion story as Matthew tells it is one Old Testament Prophecy fulfillment after another. Nearly every detail has an Old Testament reference. The detail of the soldiers casting lots over the clothing of Jesus is just one obvious example. The first readers of Matthew’s Gospel would have understood and connected all these references, images, and details. Of the traditional “Seven Last Words”, Matthew gives us only one: “My God, My God, Why Have You Abandoned Me.” Men and women of faith at that time did not consider it inappropriate to argue with God. Scenes from “Fiddler on the Roof”, if you remember, should confirm that fact. It is not unfaith, but faith that permits Job to call God’s justice into question. What most scholars accept for this moment is that Jesus is praying Psalm 22 which begins by complaining to God. The faith of Jesus is seen by the possessive pronoun, MY. Did Jesus feel abandoned by God? Probably so, why not? Matthew may have wanted to make this point. Separation from God is the price or the consequence of sin. Jesus is paying that price on behalf of others is the point. The offering of the sour wine is refused. It was probably a cruel way of prolonging the agony, and Jesus will have none of that.

Matthew records three events at the moment of the death, an earthquake, splitting of the rocks, and the Temple veil being torn from top to bottom. These are all biblical signs of the end of the world. In a very true sense, the death of Jesus did mark the end of a world without hope and the beginning of new age of God’s Spirit. The tearing of the Temple veil is followed by a Gentile (Roman soldier) confessing faith in Jesus. We can assume that Matthew, is still addressing that community struggling with Gentile inclusion. He sees the torn veil as sign of universal access by all to Jesus. Unique to Matthew’s Gospel is the addition of the men who are with that centurion. They all say those words: “Truly this was the Son of God.” These are Gentiles, not Jews. With this detail, Matthew affirms the place and the faith of Gentiles among the newly chosen People of God. Women are also present leading to the scenes of the burial and the resurrection.

Matthew, as with all the other Gospels describes the burial of Jesus for one reason, to confirm the reality of the death. Remember, in Mark, there is a Centurion dispatched to pierce the side of Jesus to confirm that Jesus is dead. We do not find that in Matthew. He goes straight to the story of Joseph of Arimathea. His action of providing a family tomb is extravagant. Romans threw the bodies of the crucified on the ground as food for scavengers. Jewish law forbids this, but a criminal’s body was not allowed in the family tomb, so there was a common grave. We know from Matthew that Joseph was a member of the Sanhedrin who probably opposed this death. If he had his own tomb, he was a rich man, and with that detail, another Old Testament prophesy is fulfilled. (Isaiah 53,9 “They made his grave with a rich man.”). The Gospel accounts make it clear that there is something special here, and the clean linen cloth emphasizes that. 

Matthew’s concern is not whether or not Jesus is dead, he wants to confront the rumor that the body was stolen. For the leaders, an empty tomb would be an incontestable fact. If it were not empty, the leaders could easily refute any preaching about the resurrection by displaying a corpse. This is a dilemma. So, they come up with that rumor as a way to explain an empty tomb. The placing of the guard is only found in Matthew’s Gospel. It’s one more effort to refute the rumor that the body was stolen. The fact that this rumor existed is in itself an indication that the tomb was empty! Matthew shows the rumor to be false because it is based on the laughable testimony of witnesses who admit to sleeping through the whole event. Now the women come into the scene. There are only two of them this time. There is no way to guess or figure out why two and where the third woman was. Matthew is the only Gospel writer who tells us that the tomb was guarded. There is something ironic here when the Jewish leaders want Pilate to have the tomb guarded. It would seem that they put more stock in a prediction by Jesus that after three days he would rise from the dead. Meanwhile, his disciples seem to have forgotten all about that. Suddenly, these leaders want to join forces with the power of Rome to prevent the resurrection as best they can with a sealed stone and posted sentries. This is all part of Matthew’s effort to confront the rumor of the time that the body was stolen not brought back to life. These guards at the tomb, unlike the ones at the cross do not confess belief. Unbelieving, they became as “dead men.” Yet, like the magi at the beginning of this Gospel, they leave with the same great joy that filled the magi who came to see the new born king. In his appearance to these women, he sends them to his “brothers”. He does not say “disciples” because all is forgiven. 

As Matthew draws this to an end, there is nothing about the resurrection itself. All we get is the effects with two points of view: an empty tomb and the disciples meeting the risen Lord. Again, there is an earthquake. It’s the second one. The first one at the moment of his death when Matthew says, “The tombs were opened and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.” This second earthquake announces another opening. The women went “to see the tomb”. What is important to Matthew is not what they were coming to do, but what happened to them. An angel comes for the first time since the opening of this Gospel. Notice that the angel rolls the stone for them. There is no suggestion that the opening of the tomb is necessary to allow the risen Christ to come out. He has already risen when the angel rolls the stone. The women do not come to see him rising, but to see that he has already risen. The invitation to see the place where he lay is addressed to the same persons who watched the body being placed there, so there is no mistake. It’s not the wrong grave, and the stone was still in place when they got there. Then comes the instructions: to tell and go to Galilee, and with that note, Matthew, once more, emphasis the importance of Galilee making it the place where the story ends because that’s where the ministry of Jesus began.

The presence of Jesus after the resurrection is quite different in each of the Gospels. Yet, it is likely that a common story of the commissioning of the Twelve is shared by Matthew, Mark, and Luke. However, each of them relates this event from the perspective of their own theology. The location says something. Mark has it happen in Jerusalem, Luke and John have it happening in Galilee. Matthew, who is the focus for us right now places the appearance where?  On a mountain! Several times in Matthew, important events occur on the mountain: the final temptation, the transfiguration, and then there is THE mountain of the Beatitudes. These final verses are unique to Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus comes as the Son of Man to found and commission his church. While he sent his apostles only to the land and people of Israel during his public ministry, he now sends the eleven to all nations, with baptism, not circumcision as the initiation rite, and with his commands, not the Mosaic Law, as the final norm of morality. Here for the only time in this Gospel the address is to “the eleven”, a sad reminder that Judas is lost. What they saw there on that mountain is not given to us. Matthew is more concerned with what is said. All through chapters 24 to 26 “Son of Man” is the title Matthew uses for Jesus. Then he changes in Chapter 27 to “Son of God.” Finally, in this last chapter, the title, “Jesus” is the only one Matthew uses to make certain that there is a connection between the risen Lord and the earthly Jesus. Matthew tells us that when they saw him they worshipped him but some doubted. The word, “doubt” here means hesitation. Jesus approaches them Matthew tells us. He speaks first of himself, then to them with the words of commission, and finally the most comforting and reassuring words in all of the Gospel: “I am with you always to the end of the age.”

Our scientific age and our need for scientific proof for something to be real or true crashes when it comes to the Resurrection and that Empty Tomb. So, we like to soften the reality that we cannot explain by suggesting that the disciples felt that Jesus was still with them in spirit. Add to this the fact that the details presented by all four Evangelists have huge discrepancies: who first discovered that the tomb was empty?  When did they do so? How and when was the stone rolled away? Was there one angel or two? Or was there any angel at all? Early Christians were not very concerned about detail accuracy. This is a faith story intended for believers. Non-believers will never be convinced of anything about an empty tomb. This is not so much about Jesus as it is about God.  To believers, there is no doubt at all that God could raise Jesus from the grave. The purpose is to ask a question: “What is this story telling us about God?”

The cry of Jesus on the cross is answered. At the same time, we must avoid thinking that the resurrection was just automatic because after all, Jesus was divine. That thinking deprives Good Friday of its significance. If the resurrection was because Jesus was divine, then the whole business of the cross was just an act a charade. Matthew insists that this is God’s act. To make that as clear as possible, Matthew uses the passive voice of the verb: “He has been raised.” The empty tomb is not proof of anything. It is a sign of the resurrection. The resurrection is not a carefully constructed myth but an inexplicable event. The story is only believable because God is believable. 

(Repeat the singing of, “O Sacred Head”)