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June 29, 2009

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time [July 5, 2009]

During my active days in ministry, I spent a lot of years teaching both in college and high school. I’ve always loved teaching and consider it a privilege to help form the minds of young people who show so much promise and trust in you. I hope that I have never discouraged young students from searching for wisdom on their own. It is one of the greatest gifts one can give to another, this gift of insight that often comes with great effort and sometimes heartache as well.

The hardest task of all for me in my teaching career was grading papers. My confreres often said that I was a “softie” on grades and that giving a failing grade was sometimes the best thing you could do for a student. How should we explain that?

I always made an effort early in the semester to lay down clear parameters and guidelines so that there would be no question why a student did not fare well in class and end up failing. Early warnings are always safer than weak excuses at the end of the semester.

In retrospect, I have thought of that method as prophetic, not prophetic as in predicting the future, but prophetic as a warning that if this action continues to happen, or if such and such a behavior persists, certain sure results will follow. Actually, the method worked pretty well over the years, in fact it has been used in matters religious or moral for centuries.

You just heard a description of it in the first and third scripture readings for this current liturgy. Plainly, it is called prophecy or prophetic speech.

It is a special gift or insight that certain people have and use, not to threaten their neighbors but rather to help them discern the times in which they live and make them better.

The ones we know best from the Jewish scriptures are Isaiah (quoted today) and Jeremiah. The Christian testament, of course, claims Jesus Christ as a divine prophet and inheritor of the prophetic mantle of the great men of old.

So, what makes prophets, whether of ancient times or today, so great, so worthy of remembrance. I think it is a sort of intuition or insight about the future. Others may be distracted by contemporary worldly matters, but the prophet sees through those dangerous habits and gets to the core of what the world could be like if we were to look at life like the prophets do.

Here I suggest some contemporary types of prophets without citing names: Those who were brave enough to see into the future and warn us about our spending habits and the present recession. Others who warned about the harm to young people that smoking can bring. Others warn us that without some spiritual base on which to build our society, we will drift and lose focus. Yet others warn us about our careless spending habits. Finally, others predict that unless we in our times try to find a middle ground between our poles of conservative and liberal, our country, indeed, our expressions of faith will suffer disintegration. You readers will know of many other similar problems we face today. The issue of abortion is no doubt the most serious.

So, prophets are not simply persons who mouth pious platitudes but rather individuals who are deeply in touch with the secular world and love the it so much that they are willing to take some “heat” for the warnings they give in their particular age.

However, one of the great misapprehensions regarding prophecy, I believe, is that many feel it is the gift of the pious-minded or specially gifted. Not so, in fact, there are not very many extraordinary people we could name prophets. For that reason we ordinarily drag out the safe ones, the ones who have been most prominent in the history of our times: Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Theresa, founders of religious communities, et cetera. To limit prophetic speech to a few people, however is to take a great risk.

The true prophet, to my mind is the man or woman in the neighborhood who is willing to sit on the city council, the parish council, the one who is willing to speak up at meetings that discuss community needs or problems. One might not readily describe such folks as prophetic, but prophecy is what they are practicing. They have looked into their times and spoken courageously even critically about it.

Ideally, I suppose, we should not need specially gifted people to guide our times. They arise only when the folks of the neighborhood do not themselves arise to question the issues that mean most to their neighbors.

So, I would like to believe that we are all called to be prophets: It’s our world, our city, our village, our church, and our neighborhood we should be concerned about. If we don’t care, who will?

The critical issue is that we are all called to confront our times whether anyone listens or not.

Indeed, there is a beautiful line at the conclusion of the Isaiah reading today in which God speaks directly Isaiah and predicts that this stiff-necked people will not listen. But no matter, God says: Just go out there and do what I command you. If nothing else, at least they will know that prophet has been among them.

Perhaps that is what our age needs today: People who will stand forth and speak to their times whether anyone listens or not; at least they will know a prophet has been among them.

The scriptures: Ezekiel 2: 2-5; 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10; Mark 6: 1-6

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:52 PM.

June 27, 2009

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time [June 28, 2009]

Will you excuse me once again if I begin this reflection by referring to one of my favorite novels and the novel’s author? The author is Nikos Kazanzakis, a Greek Christian. One of the novels he wrote is titled, Zorba the Greek. It’s a story about a man of unbridled enthusiasm who claimed many careers, some successful, but more of them total disasters.

When we meet Zorba, he is sitting on a Mediterranean beach somewhere with a wealthy English friend. They are watching the breakers strike the shore drinking good rich, red Greek wine and smoking foul-smelling cigars. The essence of their conversation is centered on the collapse of a trestle that had only recently been built to carry coal from a local mountain to the port of Perea. Alas, after only a few weeks of use, the trestle collapsed, the wealthy Englishman lost his money and here they now sit on some rocks overlooking the Mediterranean, wondering whether there would ever be a project like this again. The Englishman has doubts; he’s out of money. Zorba, however has grandiose plans to open the mine once again. He lifts his wine glass to the mountain and breaks into song: “To the mountain” he sings. And then, in a rather self-appreciative mood he leans toward his friend and says: “You know, my friend, a man like me should live for ever.” Such a great line! It could only come from a man with a Mediterranean soul.

Seriously, however, I have a hunch that most of us have the soul of Zorba the Greek. We want to live forever even though we know full well that every one dies at his or her own time.

The question, however, does not concern death. The issue is, what follows death? Can one truly believe that we live forever?

Obviously, it is the faith of Christians that we do live forever, for all eternity. The question that always follows, of course, is: Under what form, in what state? Most Christian catechisms would say, in a spiritual state, whatever that may mean. I do not wish to pursue that issue at this point.

I would rather explore the scripture s for this Thirteenth Sunday in the Church’s calendar to see what those scriptures say about the human longing for life.

The first reading from the Book of Wisdom speaks with bold assumption that death is a mistake. “God did not make death,” the author says, “and he does not rejoice in the destruction of the living. He fashioned all things that they might have being (i.e. life). He formed man (sic) to be imperishable, the image of his own nature he made him.” That is about the clearest statement regarding eternal life I can find in the Jewish scriptures.

In the gospel, however, we have two stories of women, one who was threatened with death from incessant bleeding and the other, a little girl of twelve who had actually died. Jesus comes in at this point and heals the woman with the hemorrhage. Immediately thereafter that he brings the little twelve-year-old girl back to life.

Now, for most of us there are some questions. It’s nice to hear that Jesus heals and raises people to life. But it does not apply to all the people who came to Jesus. I am at a loss to explain that.

One point I will make, however, is that Jesus took issue with death (at least in some cases). It is as though Jesus does this sign to indicate that death can be dealt with. In a sense, death, for Jesus is an exception; our true destiny is life.

I do believe, however, that there is a deep longing in our psyche that claims that we will live forever. If not, why do we strive to be “good?” Why do we worship, why do we practice justice, why do we treat the neighbor with respect, why do we marry, why do we choose a religious way of life, indeed, why do we do any human act? If this life is all there is, why do any of these acts make any difference?

So, my point is that beyond our faith in scripture and the dogmas of the church, we have an instinctual sense that life in this world would have no meaning without the promise of an unending future.

Could that be why, for instance, we create certain pieces of art that we hope will exist forever? If that is true of material objects, can we not expect the same and better for the creature we name human?

So, do we still speak of “the salvation of souls?” I would rather speak of the salvation of beings. C.S. Lewis, the British writer says: “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”

My sense, therefore, is that the whole human being, the person is holy; the human person can expect to return to God’s kingdom. So, perhaps, in the end, Zorba was more right than he imagined? We all should live forever. Anyway, I sure hope so.

The scriptures: Wisdom 1 13-15, 2: 23-24, 2 Corinthians 8: 7-9, 13-15,
Mark 5: 31-43

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:04 PM.

June 16, 2009

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time [June 21, 2009]

The big attraction on the History Channel last year was The Most Dangerous Catch, the story of crab fishermen launching out of Dutch Harbor in the Aleutians and onto the Bering Sea and the North Pacific. The series went on for months. Actually, it showed me in one segment blessing the fleet! Imagine that. Whether my blessing did, in fact, save anyone from danger I do not know. I do know, however, that ships and their crews do go down every year.

Nonetheless, I always did this task with much joy because it proved to those brave souls that we prayed to our God and their’ for their safety because of the heavy tasks they took on to provide seafood for people around the world.

Nonetheless, I imagine, for many people, water must be a scary thing because it is so uncontrollable. Remember that film, Perfect Storm? People were fascinated by it, but also scared to death.

It occurs to me that the earth itself sometimes seems overwhelming to us earth dwellers. Hurricanes often wipe out entire villages and more. Tornadoes decimate towns and surrounding countryside, floods waste miles and miles of rich farmland. It’s all part of the vagaries of nature. It’s not God’s doing.

Now, I have no way of knowing how rough the Sea of Galilee gets. It surely can’t compare with the North Pacific, but perhaps with the small boats that were used for crossing in Jesus time there was cause for alarm in a storm. At any rate, the story in today’s gospel does indicate that they were so scared that they thought they were going drown and called on Jesus to save them from utter destruction. Obviously, they must have known that Jesus had special powers; otherwise they would never have appealed to him to calm the waters.

Several of the biblical commentaries on this passage point out that this event is not so much about a storm at sea or about frightened sailors. Rather, it is a prediction by Jesus that the future Christian community would doubtless face such storms throughout its history. At the same time the early disciples and all disciples following them should never lose heart, never doubt Christ’s power to keep the Church safe from ultimate ruin.

Protecting the Church from harm is not automatically assured by the power of Jesus Christ, of course. I believe that the Church’s safety comes also from the “crew,” that is, those countless Christians over the centuries who claim to be followers of Christ.

Surely, our Church is important enough to us that we should love it enough to be willing to take on the responsibility of keeping it afloat.

Of all things, we ought not be the ones who put this Ship in jeopardy by our refusal to take on Christian tasks and Christian responsibilities in the world. There are already more than enough dangers out there facing our Church.

I return, finally, to the image of the great crab boats out in Dutch Harbor where I worked. The men who worked the “pots” were a rough and tumble bunch; they could drink beer with the best of ‘em. But one thing you did not do in the presence of those men was to refer to their boat as a “loser.” That would get you into a fight in seconds. These men were proud of their ships and were willing to bear any burden or danger to bring them back to safe harbor unharmed.

I can readily see then why Jesus would choose a boat or a ship as a metaphor for the church. What else can better carry you across stormy waters of life to safety? With a captain like Jesus, who’s afraid of the deep?

The scriptures: Job 38: 1, 8-11; 2 Corinthians 5: 14-17; Mark 4: 35-41

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 11:45 AM.

June 09, 2009

The Body and Blood of Christ [June 14, 2009]

My boyhood home lay in the lovely Souris river valley of North Dakota. Ducks and geese were in great abundance during the summer mating season.

Among the waterfowl a few pelicans could also be seen, searching for fish in the marshes or flying low and slow over the water. Even as a little boy, I knew what pelicans looked like.

What puzzled me, however, was a large ceramic plaque of a pelican attached to the communion rail of our church of St. Henry.

So, one day, I said to my mother: “Ma, what’s that pelican doing up there?” “I’ve been wondering about that myself,” she said

I did not pursue the theological/liturgical implications any further, but I did manage to get “sort of an answer” from the nun who taught us religion.

At any rate, I have often thought about that ceramic pelican on the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, the feast that we celebrate today. The pelican, as a symbol and a piece of art, plays an important role in helping us understand the meaning of Christ’s blood in the liturgy.

For those who may never have heard an explanation of the pelican in theology and liturgy, it is rooted in pre-Christian legend that during a time of famine or drought, a mother pelican would wound herself in order to nourish her brood and stave off their starvation.

I doubt the veracity of that story but when you think about it, blood has many meanings and applications. First, blood is, in fact, the source of life. Theologians would say, therefore, that blood is salvific (saving). It saves life and sustains life. That is why, for instance, blood transfusions are so important to those who need blood.

There are many analogies regarding blood and life. We say, for instance, that our troops shed their blood for their country, which, indeed they do. We also hear the phrase: blood, sweat and tears as a way of giving one’s all for the good of others.

In our theological catechesis we also hear the phrase, “Jesus shed his blood for the world.” That sounds implausible; in what way does Christ’s shedding blood save the world?

I have come to think that this is not simply an abstract theological statement. I believe that Jesus shed his blood on the cross as the last great act of his life. He hung on the cross with blood pouring from his wounds because of what had gone through during his life: What he stood for, what he fought for, what he believed in, what he taught us. It was for this reason that he was captured, tried, executed and that he shed his blood.

In short, shedding one’s blood is no small matter. If anyone sheds blood is must be for some significant reason, a reason, one that has immense effect on the world. That is the way I perceive the power of Jesus shedding his blood for the world.

The logical question that follows is this: Are we personally expected to shed our blood for the salvation of others? Physically, perhaps not, but if we think about Jesus’ life, there are countless ways that we can imitate Christ’s acts on behalf of others. None of these actions may “draw physical blood” but some will cause us pain. You see, there are different ways to shed blood.

If my dear mother were still among us, I’d tell her I finally got the pelican question figured out. I’m sure she would be happy to hear that.

The scriptures: Exodus 24: 3-8; Hebrews 9: 11-15; Mark 14: 12-16.

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:24 AM.

June 04, 2009

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity [June 7, 2009]

It has been said and I believe it to be true that the most difficult Sunday of the year to find a substitute preacher is…you guessed it, Trinity Sunday. Another favorite saying is that you will hear more heresies preached on Trinity Sunday than on any other time of the year. And lastly the most devastating thing one can do on Trinity Sunday is to reduce the great mystery of the Godhead to the level of senseless metaphors

My dear friend Father John Schuneman, of sacred memory, had the habit of explaining the Trinity to his high school students by bringing a stick of Italian sausage to class and cutting it in three pieces. I’m sure you all can catch the implications of the One in Three in that metaphor.

These may all seem a little humorous, and they are, but they all demonstrate the human effort to say something that befits the Sacred One, God.

I claim no unique insight into the mystery of the Trinity but I have struggled over the years to say something that would dignify the One whom we call Creator of all.

The great difficulty as we all know is that we are dealing with mystery and mysteries are not explained; they are experienced.

Nonetheless, every thoughtful person, theologian or not, struggles to say something intelligent about the Trinity, something that makes sense in human terms. We will never be satisfied unless try.

Here is one way that I have found useful in the past: I find it interesting, for instance, that we humans find it so important that we give God names. Now, obviously, from God’s point of view, God does not have a name. We humans give God a name so that we can identify Him that we can set God apart from other creatures.

In a sense, names are rather peculiar when you think about it. Their only purpose is to identify who we are so we don’t get mixed up with someone else at the airport security checkpoint.

Yet, in another sense, names are us. We are who we are and our name makes that clear to every one. But isn’t it interesting that this name was chosen for us; we had no part in the choice. If we ended up liking it, fine: if we did not, too bad. Hence it may happen that we may not even be comfortable with our name but we have to live with it nonetheless.

This may be a stretch, but somehow our name contributes to our character. Our name and our personality may eventually become almost one and the same. People will say, for instance: “John is an intelligent person.” “Mary is a sensitive person.” Actually, we are not referring to the name, but to the very character of the person, his or her “Is’ness”.

The ultimate point here is that we have names mainly for identification. There are billions of folks on the planet. Somehow, we need to protect our unique individuality.

So, how about God’s name? Truly, it defies all understanding and search. In a sense, the name “God” is not God’s name. It is simply an appellation that refers to the ultimate Divine Being. Throughout Jewish history, prophets and priests chose various ways to identify the God of the people. The classic example comes in the famous incident at the burning bush in Exodus. Moses asks God to reveal His name so that he can go back and tell the people: “God told me such and such.” So, what does God do? God gives him a set of letters that scripture scholars throughout history have been struggling with ever since. It is the famous tetragammeton YHWH. The letter A is always dropped because God’s name is too sacred even to pronounce.

In place of the Sacred Name, therefore, the Hebrews throughout the centuries chose substitutes: El Shaddai, God of the Mountain, El Elyon, God Most High, El Olam, God everlasting, El Sabaoth, God of Hosts. Other single names were also often chosen: Rock, Stronghold, Deliverer, Shepherd, and Savior.

What all this connotes to me is that God is so mysterious, so unnamable that humans are unable to find a suitable name, one that will encompass all that God is. But the point is that they are names we attach. God himself is beyond all names.

I simply wanted to explore the name theme because on this feast of the Trinity it is difficult to probe the “is’ness” of God, the inner essence of the Divine. Theologians have made efforts at this for centuries without a definitive solution.

St. Paul came close, of course, when he simply instructed his catechumens to call God Abba, Father. It is a term of endearment much as my mother, during my childhood, once called me “buddy” or “honey” rather than my given name LeRoy.

The point in all this is to say that we do not know God’s name. Indeed, any name we give God will fail because no name will afford us a full meaning or understanding.

So, ultimately, what is important is not that we know God’s name or that we have the correct name, or that the name tells us any more about God but rather that whatever name we give God, it will satisfy our deepest longing to be on a one-to-one basis with God. What serves our human purpose is more important than what serves God’s purposes, whatever those purposes might be.

Finally, if we are able to call God Father or Mother, it is my hunch that God will hear us. All those other names for God we quoted above seem a little condescending, but to call God papa puts us in intimate relationship with God. I suspect that God must be happy about that. After all, don’t you suppose God knows his own name anyway?

The scriptures: Deuteronomy 4: 32-34,39-40; Romans 8: 14-17; Matthew 28:16-20

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:30 PM.