EASTER SUNDAY March 31, 2024
Eucharist Liturgy
Opening Song: AN EASTER HALLELUJAH [Composed by Leonard Cohen, Lyrics by Kelley Mooney] (youtube.com)
Opening Prayer: God of New Life,
We praise you for the wonder of death transformed; how what seems lost is changed into the very hope we yearn for. May this Easter be a new beginning for us, as we step into our lives, renewed by the hope that is You. This we pray as Easter people. AMEN.
Penitential Rite:
God, our Mother and Father of compassion, through his living, dying, and rising, Jesus has revealed that nothing can separate us from the infinite love of God. May God give us pardon and peace, and may we forgive each other our failures to care for one another and for our earth in the name of God our creator, and of Jesus our brother, and of the Holy Spirit our wisdom. Amen.
Gloria:
Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth. O God, heavenly Being, all loving God and Mother, we praise you, we give you thanks, we honor all creation. Jesus Christ, blessed Son of the Creator, Our God, help us to become a loving people: for you have loved us from the beginning and you dwell within us always. For you, Eternal Word, are Whole and Holy, you are the light of our faith, one with the Trinity, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God our Father. Amen.
(Choose Readers)
FIRST READING: A Reading from Book of Revelation 1:8; 22:13,16-17
“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says God. “The one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty.”
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”
“I, Jesus, sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the root and offspring of David and Bathsheba, the bright morning star.”
The Spirit and the Beloved say, “Come.” Let the hearer say, “Come.” Let the one who thirsts, come! And come, the one who wants to receive the gift of life-giving water.
The Word of an Early Church Visionary.
Thanks be to God.
PSALM: Psalm 104: 1-2; 5-8, 10-13; 14-15; 24
The Psalm Response is: How Great is Our God!
R: How great is Our God!
My whole being praises God!
O God, my God, how great You are!
You are clothed in celestial splendor, cosmic royalty!
You are wrapped in starry darkness.
You stretch out the heavens like a tent for Your people.
R: How great is Our God!
You set Earth spinning in cosmic mystery.
You blanketed Earth with water.
Your voice thundered, and waters yielded land.
Mountains breached oceans.
Bedrock emerged from the deep.
Now springs gush in valleys to give drink to every creature.
By streams, birds sing among the branches.
You water the mountains.
Earth brims.
R: How great is Our God!
You give plants for all creatures to feed from the earth,
wine to gladden the human heart,
oil to make the face shine,
and bread to strengthen the body.
R: How great is Our God!
How vast, how wondrous, Your works!
In Wisdom You made them all.
Earth resounds with the music of cosmic mystery.
R: How great is Our God!
SECOND READING: A Reading from the Letter to the Colossians 3:1-4
Christ is risen! And you have been raised with Christ! Since
resurrection is already yours, let cosmic mysteries fill your hearts with
ecstasy. Wonder at earth’s precious and finite place in the cosmos.
Set your mind on virtues that endure.
Jesus died. You also will die. You have already known death and
loss. In baptism, you died with Jesus the Christ. Trust that your
cosmic life, like Jesus’, is already real. It may be hidden in God,
nestled in God’s womb; but when the Cosmic Christ is revealed in
fullness, you also will be birthed into wholeness.
The Word of a Follower of Paul.
Thanks be to God.
ALLELUIA. ALLELUIA. ALLELUIA. (Celtic version)
GOSPEL: A reading from John 20:11-18
Early in the morning, on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance…But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept, she stooped down and looked into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Then they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”
She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I do not know where they have laid Him.”
Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Why are you weeping? For Whom are you looking?”
She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, “Please, if You’re the one who has carried Him away, tell me where You have laid the body, and I will take Him away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She turned and said to Him, “Rabboni!” which means, Teacher.
Jesus said to her, “Don’t hold on to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Abba God; but go to My brethren and say to them, ‘I am ascending to My Abba and your Abba, and to My God and your God.’”
Mary Magdalene went to the [b]disciples, “I have seen the Teacher,” she announced. Then, she reported what the savior had said to her.
The Gospel of John.
Praise to you, Jesus the Christ.
Homily: Easter Homily 2024
This year, as in many years past, we honor Mary Magdalene as the apostle to the apostles. In our gospel, we witness this. In our RCWP movement, we follow this commission to “go tell my brethren (and sisters).”
Mary Magdalene was grieving the death of Jesus but was brave enough to go to the tomb to anoint his body. She risked being arrested or threatened or beaten by those who were there to guard the tomb. It didn’t matter to her. She was more intent on honoring Jesus by performing the Jewish rituals for burial.
Because of Mary’s commitment to Jesus, she was not lost in her own world, feeling sorry for herself. Instead, she was doing what any faithful Jewish woman would be doing, attending to their loved one. Jesus has known for a long time that Mary is faithful; that she gets who he is and that she loves him. It is no coincidence that she was there. Because of her faithfulness, Mary Magdalene is the first person to see him as a resurrected being. Jesus then commissions her to “go to my brethren and say to them, that I am ascending to my Abba.” (Abba is the Aramaic word for Father, used to indicate “personal intimacy.”) Jesus continues to use the word “Abba” or “Daddy” to help convey the close relationship God has for us. We are to feel part of the family, deeply connected to our God, our Daddy.
It speaks volumes that the “brethren” are locked in a room by themselves. They are immobilized by fear. Mary would be the one to tell them the glorious news: “I have seen the Teacher!” They did not believe her. Afterall, as a woman, her emotions might’ve caused her to see and hear things. She couldn’t be trusted.
The traditional Church has followed this lack of respect for women and refuses to even read this gospel at Easter. That’s why we affirm and promote this gospel reading from John every single Easter. This is the resurrection story that needs to be told to affirm the equality and inclusion of the Jesus message. Mary would be the first person to proclaim the news that Jesus can overcome death, physically and spiritually.
We may find it difficult to be as brave as Mary, continuing to do what is right when we are fearful or grieving. Even now, it might be challenging to rejoice when our world is at war, practicing genocide, allowing for violence and hatred to prevail. And yet, this is the Easter imperative. Rejoice, even though your heart is breaking. This is what it means to be an “Easter people in a Good Friday world,” as Rev. David Olson, an Episcopal priest said. Bonnie shared this quote on Friday, and it resonated with me as a way of naming both the joy and sorrow of being Christian in 2024.
We see so much suffering from Ukraine to Gaza and in many other war-torn countries. We hear about new diagnoses of cancer or tornados and fires that ravage homes. Some of us struggle with mental health issues and work to maintain a spirit of hope. In all of this, we must anchor in the power of love to transform. That’s the Easter story. That’s the true story of Easter.
One man, Jim Palmer, (who used to be an evangelical preacher) has written that if Jesus came back, would he recognize us Christians? He bemoans ten points of reference the belie the intention of Christ:
1. That his vision for a transformed society, which he called the "kingdom of God", got twisted into an afterlife fantasy about heaven.
2. That a religion was formed to worship his name, instead of a movement to advance his message.
3. That the gospel says his death solved the problem of humankind's separation from God, instead of his life as a witness that there is no separation from God.
4. That the religion bearing his name was conceived by the theories and doctrines of Paul, instead of the truth Jesus lived and demonstrated.
5. That he was said to exclusively be God in the flesh, putting his (human) example out of reach, rather than teaching that we all share in the same spirit that empowered his character and life.
6. That this religion claims that Jesus’s wisdom and teachings are the only legitimate way to know truth and God.
7. The idea that humankind stands condemned before God and deserving of God's wrath and eternal conscious judgement, requiring the death of Jesus to fix it.
8. That people are waiting on Jesus to return to save the world and end suffering, rather than taking responsibility for saving the world and solving suffering ourselves.
9. That people think there is magical potency in uttering the name of Jesus, rather than accessing our own natural powers and capabilities to effect change.
10. That people have come to associate Jesus with church, theology, politics and power, rather than courage, justice, humanity, beauty and love.
These points bring us back to the true meaning of Jesus’ life, which Mary Magdalene was the first to understand. We are meant to maintain our faith regardless of what is happening, just as Mary was able to continue acting in a way that trusts there is more to come. She too may have doubted Jesus when he said he would rise again. Still, she went to the tomb and was transformed forever. Let us be Easter people who are aware of Good Friday, all around us, and who go out to do what is the right thing to do anyway. AMEN.
Profession of Faith:
O Holy One, Creator of this vast universe:
We believe that you are not far from us,
and that your loving care is shown
in the life, ministry, death, and continued presence
of Jesus, the Christ whom you sent
to show us the way to your living presence.
We believe that each of us is called
to continue your presence and your work in this world,
by loving and caring for one another.
We believe that no one is beyond
the reach of your love,
and so no one should be beyond
the reach of our caring.
We believe that you call us to be
one with you and with one another.
We believe that you will give us
the grace and inspiration of the Holy Spirit
to live fully in your love
when we are open to you.
We believe that you pardon our weaknesses
And use them to teach us how to come to you.
We believe in the resurrection of Jesus in our lives,
and life everlasting in your Divine Presence.
May God, the source of all patience and encouragement,
enable us to live as we believe,
in harmony with one another
so that with our hearts and voice and lives,
we may glorify the God who names us
and calls us to live in the fullness of being. Amen.
Prayers of the Faithful:
We invite you to give voice to any concerns, needs and thanksgivings. After each petition, please say, “Hear our prayer.”
Our response: Amen.
We believe that you hear our prayers and join us in our time of need and gratitude. For these and the requests we carry in the silence of our hearts, be near and fill us with your grace. Amen.
Liturgy of the Eucharist
Preparation of the Gifts
Blessed are you, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer which earth has given and human hands have made.
It will become for us the bread of life.
All: Blessed be God forever.
Blessed are you, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become our spiritual drink.
All: Blessed be God forever.
My sisters, siblings, and brothers, let us pray that these gifts may be acceptable to God, our Creator. +
All: Creator God, accept these gifts from our hands for the praise and glory of your name, for our good and the good of all your people.
Ever-gentle God, Jesus accepted all who came to him as an example for us. Accept our gifts, our intentions and ourselves. We offer our lives in service to you and your people. Fill us with the spirit of humility and love. We ask this through Jesus our hope. Amen.
The Eucharistic Prayer V
(Women’s Ordination Worldwide, 2012)
God, our Mother and Father, creator of us in Your own image, loving foundation and heart of all beings, we are gathered here before You. We pray for all the faithful around the world so that they may be blessed with the strength to persevere, the courage to speak out, the vision to seek a renewed ministry and the faith to believe in You beyond all systems and institutions, so that Your face on earth may be seen in all its beauty.
We call on the holy, courageous women and men who went before us, to intercede for us so that we might be given the grace and vision to follow in their footsteps as we work together in solidarity for an inclusive and accountable Catholic Church.
We join our voices now with them and with all those who have gone before us, with all your saints who have struggled to bring a glimpse of your kin-dom here on earth, saying this hymn of unending praise:
Holy, holy, holy, God of gentleness and light. Heaven
and Earth are full of Your glory. Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is the One who comes in the name of our God.
Hosanna in the Highest.
Holy God, who breathes fire into our very existence, filling us with heavenly joy and holy indignation at the plight of our world: we worship You, we praise You, and we trust in Your promise to be with us, now and always.
We claim the sign of renewal given to a broken and discouraged community, now as then in Jerusalem; for You came to Your people, filling them with confidence. Your Holy Spirit inspired their lives, bringing clarity and vision, perseverance, and persistence, hope and peace.
Blessed is Jesus, our brother, who calls us beyond the limits of our understanding of our humanity to seek the divine spark within us all, and fills us with a sense of oneness with God and with each other in community.
On the night He was betrayed, while at supper with His friends, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, and broke it saying:
(Please extend your hands and say these words together)
Take this, all of you, and eat it. This is my body, which will be
given up for you.
After supper, He took the cup, blessed it and said:
(Please extend your hands and say these words together)
Take this all of you and drink from it; this is the cup of my blood, the life of the new and everlasting covenant. Do this in memory of me.
Holy God, we now offer You these gifts, longing for the bread of justice and the wine of the kin-dom to come. Therefore, we proclaim the mystery of our faith:
All: Christ has died;
Christ is risen;
Christ will come again.
Pour out Your Spirit on these gifts that through them we may be vehicles of justice and compassion and may reconcile ourselves and each other and the world through Your unconditional love and abundant grace. Sanctified by the power of Your Spirit, may we be better able to proclaim Your message, look beyond the obstacles in our path and see new visions, dream new dreams, and become Your Beloved Community in the Name of Jesus.
Through Christ, and with Christ, and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honor and glory be given to You, Source of all life, now and forever.
ALL: Amen.
The peace of Christ be with you all.
All: And also with you.
Let us offer each other a sign of Christ’s peace.
The Lord’s Prayer: We now offer this version that is based on the original Aramaic and interpreted by Neil Douglas Klotz:
O Cosmic Birther of all radiance and vibration!
Focus Your light within us—make it useful.
Soften the ground of our being
And carve out a space within us
Where Your presence can abide.
Fill us with Your creativity
So that we may be empowered
To bear the fruit of Your mission.
Let each of our actions bear fruit
In accordance with Your desire.
Endow us with the wisdom
To produce and share what each being needs
To grow and flourish.
Untie the tangled threads that bind us,
As we release others
From the entanglement of past mistakes.
Do not let us be reduced
By that which would divert us from our true purpose
But illuminate the opportunities of the present moment.
For You are the ground and fruitful vision,
The birth, power and fulfillment,
As all is gathered and made whole once again. Amen.
Communion: This is Jesus, the Bread of Life and the Wine of Salvation. How blessed are we who are called to this table.
All: God, by your invitation, we delight in our worthiness to receive you.
Communion Meditation: John O’Donahue
“On this Easter day, let us look again at the lives we have been so generously given and let us let fall away the useless baggage that we carry — old pains, old habits, old ways of seeing and feeling — and let us have the courage to begin again. Life is very short, and we are no sooner here than it is time to depart again, and we should use to the full the time that we still have.
We don’t realize all the good we can do. A kind, encouraging word or helping hand can bring many a person through dark valleys in their lives. We weren’t put here to make money or to acquire status or reputation. We were sent here to search for the light of Easter in our hearts, and when we find it, we are meant to give it away generously.
May the spirit and light of this Easter day bless us all, watch over us and protect us on our journey, open us from the darkness into the light of peace and hope and transfiguration.”
Announcements:
Closing Prayer: O Risen One,
We joyfully return to the Alleluias of our lives, renewed by your generous gift of resurrection. May we remind ourselves always to choose that which is life-giving and hopeful so that we may truly live out the Easter message that reflects our trust in You. Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.
Blessing: May our loving God bless you, in the name of the Creator, the Word and Holy Wisdom + Our mass has ended but our service has just begun. Go in the peace of Christ.
Thanks be to God.
Jan. 21, 2024 Homily
Readings: Book of Jonah 3:1-10, Paul’s 1st Letter to the Corinthians 7:17-20, 36 and Mark 1:14-20; 2:13-17
We begin our readings after Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Before he went to Nineveh, he refused God’s call. He didn’t like that town much less want to convert them. So, he got swallowed by a whale. Try to imagine what that might be like. Is it even possible? Probably not but the image and its disturbing ideas remain. That’s good story telling. It causes us to imagine ourselves in the belly of a whale and how we might survive. Most of us might be converted by such an experience.
Jonah lived in the belly of the whale for three days, mimicking Jesus’ three days in the tomb (which was yet to happen). James Alison, a brilliant theologian says, “The great fish is nothing other than God holding Jonah in being in the midst of darkness and fear…He could see and feel the darkness, and yet...in the midst of that, he was being stitched together, reached, held at a depth which he had been unable to imagine..(and) for the first time he finds himself able to do something utterly new.” What’s important is that Jonah heard God’s call and finally, found himself worthy and able to deliver the message to Nineveh. And Ninevah is saved. The real miracle is that one man changed an entire city! Why the people of Nineveh chose to listen to Jonah meant that he must’ve been provocative and convincing. That had to be because of God’s grace at work in him.
Most of us are unwilling to change. It’s just too hard and takes too much energy. Why bother? And yet, if we do not change, we remain stuck in a life that has little meaning. The purpose of life is to grow, not only physically but spiritually, to expand our understanding of life, God, and our role here. Paul’s essential message is that what’s important is keeping God’s commandments. He’s grown enough to understand that the rule of circumcision means nothing. And, in preaching, this helps move the new church along to what really is the good news of Jesus’ message. Perhaps that profound simplicity of what holiness means is what prompted the disciples to follow Jesus so willingly.
Simon, Andrew and Levi responded Jesus called them. They seemed to grasp this as a chance to grow, to understand more of what life was about. Somehow Jesus knew these were the men who could help begin his ministry to the world. Likewise, these men trusted Jesus as someone for whom they could change their lives. From our gospel reading, it seems like the change was instantaneous, immediate. “Come and follow me.” “Okay.” No questions asked. No time to discern. What was it about Jesus that enabled this “yes.”
There have been many false prophets who have led people to their death, rather than their growth. I think of Jim Jones and David Koresh, the leader of the Waco cult. Both of these men were charismatic enough to call people into a community of faith. This was a false faith, one of paranoia and fear that led to violence and death. How was Jesus different?
Part of the answer lies in Jesus’ actions. Jesus ate with sinners. This would’ve made him unclean according to beliefs at the time. But Jesus knew that sitting with sinners didn’t make him a sinner. He wanted to break down the systems of power that kept the religious right separate from all others. That had to intrigue the people, especially those who were not in power. It infuriated those who were used to being above others. Don’t you dare change that, they would’ve said. One would hope that Jesus’ manner was loving, enough to make others listen and want to be in his presence. He had a new message. One that challenged the status quo. He must’ve been provocative and convincing, like prophets before him.
Who is this guy who calls us to change, to become all that we are meant to be? Can we also turn from our regular lives of conformity to challenge the status quo? What little changes can we make to grow? Meditation? Volunteering? Speaking truth to family members? Emailing senators? Our recent snow has been a bit like being in the belly of a whale; shut indoors, unable to leave, enduring more darkness than light. Perhaps this is our Jonah experience giving us time to reflect and grow. What do we resist changing? What pattern are we stuck in that makes us feel we are better than others? Jesus was a man of truth and lived a life of loving others. He took risks. He realized that the ego was simply a trap for our insecurities. As the temperatures warm up, may we embrace the call to change, continuing to challenge ourselves to become more loving and more open to all that life has to offer.
What change can you make that will help you to be more of a follower of Jesus?
Epiphany, Sunday January 7, 2024
Full Eucharist Celebration
Opening Song: We Three Kings
Opening Prayer: God of light, shining in darkness, through a little child, born in Bethlehem, you open to us the treasure of your grace. Help us to search diligently for him, so that we may offer our lives to you with thanksgiving, joy, and praise. This we pray through Jesus the Christ, the star of hope. AMEN.
Penitential Rite:
Eternal God, in whose presence we gather, you have promised us grace and pardon when we acknowledge our human frailty. We recognize and confess that we have at times failed to respond fully to your gracious presence in our lives. We have not always done what we were capable of doing. We are human and long to become our fullest selves with your grace. Reconcile us to you and to all people. Forgive our failings and affirm our triumphs. Strengthen us anew for life as you intend it. This we pray through Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Lift up your eyes and see the grace of God poured into our lives. The light of Christ has come, freeing you from darkness and sin. May it fill you and enable you to become a bearers of light in this world. Amen.
Gloria:
Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth. O God, heavenly Being, all loving God and Mother, we praise you, we give you thanks, we honor all creation. Jesus Christ, blessed Son of the Creator, Our God, help us to become a loving people: for you have loved us from the beginning and you dwell within us always. For you, Eternal Word, are Whole and Holy, you are the light of our faith, one with the Trinity, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God our Father. Amen.
(Choose Readers)
FIRST READING: A Reading from the Wisdom of ben Sirach Literature 24:1-5a, 12-20
Wisdom sings Her own praises.
She tells of Her glory in the midst of Her people.
In the assembly of the heavenly host, the cosmic chorus,
She opens Her mouth.
“I came forth from the mouth of the Cosmic Creator.
I came to Earth, covering Earth like mist.
My tent was in the highest heavens,
my throne was in a pillar of cloud.
Then, a spot on Earth was chosen for my tent…
“I took root in a people honored by God,
in God’s own portion and heritage.
I have grown tall as a cedar in Lebanon,
as a cypress on Mount Hermon.
I am raised aloft, as a palm in En-Gedi,
as the rose bushes of Jericho.
I have grown tall as a fair olive tree in the field,
and as a plane tree by the water.
I have yielded a perfume like cinnamon and camel’s thorn.
I spread my fragrance like choice myrrh,
like sweet spices, like the smoke of frankincense in the tent.
I have spread my branches like terebinth,
and my branches are glorious.
Like the vine, I bud forth delights,
and my blossoms become glorious and abundant fruit.
“I am the mother of beautiful love,
of fear, of knowledge, and of holy hope;
being eternal, I am given to all my children,
to those who bear the Holy Name.
“Come to me, all you who desire me,
and eat your fill of my fruit.
For the memory of me is sweeter than honey.
Wisdom is sweeter than the honeycomb.”
The Word of a Wisdom Writer.
Thanks be to God.
RESPONSORIAL PSALM: Psalm 96:1-4a, 7-10a
Our Psalm Response is:
R: Bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
R: Bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
Sing to the Cosmos a new song;
sing to the Beloved, all the earth.
Sing to the Creator!
Bless the Name above all names!
Proclaim the Glorious One, day after day.
Declare the splendor of the Radiant One to all nations,
the marvelous works of Love to all peoples.
For great is the Beloved, and greatly to be praised.
R: Bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
Give to God, you families of the earth!
Yield to Love’s glory and strength!
Give to God the glory due the Holy Name!
Make of yourself and offering and be guided by Love.
R: Bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
Bring gifts and enter God’s holy courts;
bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
Tremble before God, all the earth!
Declare among all peoples: God is here!
The Creator of the Cosmos reigns!
R: Bow down to the Beloved, splendid in holiness.
SECOND READING: A Reading from the Letter to the Ephesians 3:2-11
I trust you have already heard about the mission I have been given; to take up the cause of God's grace for you, that is, for those considered “outsiders.” This mystery was made known to me by revelation, as I have briefly written earlier. Reading about my conversion will enable you also to see into the mystery of the Christ.
In earlier generations, this mystery was not made known. Only in our time has it been made clear to the holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that the Gentiles are co-heirs, members of the same body, and co-partners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel, the good news of God.
Of this I became a minister by God’s grace. To me, less than the least of God’s holy people, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the inscrutable riches of Christ, and to bring to light, for all, the mystery hidden from ages past in God who created all things. Through the church, the wisdom of God, in its rich variety, is now made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. This radical welcome of all God’s people was according to the eternal purpose that God intended from the beginning, and accomplished in Jesus, the Cosmic Christ.
The Word of an early church leader.
Thanks be to God.
Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.
GOSPEL: A Reading from the Gospel attributed to Matthew 2:1-12
Glory to you, O God.
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea during the reign
of Herod, Magi from the East arrived in Jerusalem asking, “Where
is the newborn leader of the Judeans? We observed the child’s
star at its rising and have come to pay homage.” When Herod
heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him. Calling
together all the head priests and scribes of the people, he inquired
of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In
Bethlehem of Judea, for this has been written by the prophet:
And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a leader
who is to shepherd my people, Israel.
Herod secretly called for the Magi. He learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. He sent them along to Bethlehem, saying, “Go! Search diligently for the child! When you have found the newborn, bring me word so that I may also go and pay homage.” Upon hearing these words of Herod, they set out, and there, ahead of them, went the star they had seen at its rising until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary, the mother, and they knelt down and paid homage. Opening their treasure chests, they offered gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Then, having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod they departed for their country by another route.
The Gospel of God.
Praise to you Jesus the Christ.
Let us pray: O God – our constant companion on life’s journey, as we celebrate the feast of epiphany, we pray for your light. We ask that your healing light might transform brokenness into wholeness, in mind, body and spirit. Holy One, we ask that your light might bring comfort to all those who grieve. For this faith community, we ask your guidance in the New Year, in the way we are to go. May we know your vision, as we seek to become bearers of light in your world. Bless all of us in this community. May your forgiving and transforming power be made real in our lives. Purify our hearts, lift our burdens, and strengthen us. Fill us with the hope of your healing love and guide us with your light as we journey into this new year. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
November 19, 2023 Liturgy of the Word
Check-Ins
Opening Song: If You Believe and I Believe - YouTube
Opening Prayer: Taken from A World of Prayer, p. 35-36
FIRST READING: A Reading from the Book of Joshua 2:1-8, 12-14a
Joshua, son of Nun, secretly sent out two spies saying, “Go! Scout out the land, especially Jericho.” When the two reached Jericho, they entered the house of an innkeeper, a prostitute, whose name was Rahab. They spent the night there.
Jericho’s ruler was told, “Some Israelites have come here tonight to search out the land.” The ruler of Jericho sent officials to Rahab with this order for her: “Bring out the visitors who have entered your house, for they have come to spy out the whole land.” But the woman had taken the two spies and hid them.
She said to the officials, “True, those you speak of came to me, but I did not know from where they came. When it was time to close the gate at dark, they went out. Where they went, I do not know. Pursue them quickly, for you can overtake them.”
She had, however, brought them up to her roof and hidden them with the stalks of flax that she had laid out there. The officials, however, went in pursuit of the spies in the direction of the fords of Jordan. As soon as they had gone out, night fell, and the gate was shut.
The Israelites had not yet settled down to sleep when Rahab came up to them on the roof and said, “Now then, since I have dealt kindly with you, vow to me by your God that you in turn will deal kindly with my family. Give me an unmistakable sign of good faith that you will spare my mother and my father, my sisters and brothers, their children and all who belong to them, and deliver us from death.”
The two answered: “We pledge our lives for yours.”
The Word of an Ancient Court Historian
Thanks be to God.
RESPONSORIAL PSALM: Psalm 128, Nan Merrill
Our Psalm Response is: Peace is within you.
R: Peace is within you.
Blessed are you who reverence the Beloved,
who walk in Love's way!
You radiate an inner joy and peace
wherever you go.
Compassion draws you
to the gates of those in need.
R: Peace is within you.
Families and friends gather upon your doorstep.
Children run to greet you with open arms.
Yes, blessed are you
who reverence the Beloved!
R: Peace is within you.
Strangers feel at home in your home,
nourished by your presence.
The oppressed are comforted by your support.
Blessed indeed are you
who reverence the Beloved!
Peace is within you!
R: Peace is within you.
SECOND READING: A Reading from Paul's 1st letter to the Thessalonians 5:1-6
Now, beloved, about times and dates we do not need to write to you, for you know very well that the Day of God is coming like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “Peace has come! Safety is ours!” then sudden disaster will come upon them, like labor pains for a pregnant woman. They will not escape.
But you, beloved, are not unaware. The Day of God will not overtake you like a thief. You are aware and alert. We do not live in fear or ignorance. So then, let us not be lulled into laziness as is so easy to do. Let us rather be sober and alert.
The Word of the Apostle Paul.
Thanks be to God.
Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.
GOSPEL: A Reading from the Gospel attributed to Matthew 25:14-30
Glory to You, O God.
Jesus continued to teach the disciples:
The kin-dom of heaven is like a wealthy landowner who was going on a journey and called in three workers, entrusting some funds to them. The first was given five talents, the second two talents, and the third one talent, according to each one's ability. (A talent was worth more than 15 years of a laborer's wages.) The landowner then went away.
Immediately the worker who received the five talents invested it and made another five. In the same way, the worker who received the two talents doubled that figure. But the worker who received the one talent instead went off and dug a hole in the ground and buried the money.
After a long absence, the traveler returned home and settled accounts with the workers. The one who had received five talents came forward bringing the additional five, saying, “You entrusted me with five talents; here are five more.” The landowner said, “Well done! You are a good and faithful
worker. Since you were dependable in a small matter, I will put in you in charge of larger affairs. Come, share my joy!”
The one who had received two talents then stepped forward with the additional two, saying, “You entrusted me with two talents; here are two more.” The landowner said to this one, “Well done! You too are a good
and faithful worker. Since you were dependable in a small matter, I will put you in charge of larger affairs. Come, share my joy!”
Finally, the one who had received one talent stepped forward and said to the landowner, “Knowing your ruthlessness – you who reap where you did not sow and gather where you did not scatter - and fearing your wrath, I went off and buried your talent in the ground. Here is your money back.”
The landowner exclaimed, “You lout! So, you know that I reap where I do not sow and gather where I do not scatter, do you? Should you not then have put my money in the bank so that I could have got it back with interest on my return? Now then, the landowner said to assistants, “take the talent from this one, and give it to the one with ten talents.”
“For to all those who have, more will be given and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. So, throw this so-called worker into obscurity, where there will weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
The Gospel of God.
Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
Discussion: Jesus is preparing his disciples for his absence. Knowing this may help to lessen the harshness of the landowner. Many abuse this parable to justify prosperity theology. Here’s a reflection that might help:
The master’s response to the third servant is quite intriguing. Herzog clearly states that “The hero of the parable is the third servant” (167). This is because the third servant has in a sense ‘woken up’ to his role within a system of suffering. “By digging a hole and burying the aristocrat’s talent…the third retainer dissociates himself from the system he has so cleverly exploited to attain his position of power and influence” (167). He dared to question the authority and the intentions of the master, with recognition that it would be at a personal sacrifice. “He realizes that he will pay a price, but he has decided to accept the cost rather than continue to pursue his exploitative path” (167).
The complex character of the third servant can be a model for us to follow. It is important to note that he did play a role in exploiting others, as many of us do. But then he recognized this, and took actions in order to lessen his complicity within the systems of suffering, by hiding his talent. This action was done at a personal sacrifice, and was done with recognition of solidarity. This servant knew that he could not experience any ‘joy’ as long as others continued to suffer. This servant lessened himself in order that others may be brought up, and their own burdens may be lessened. This was his work toward making a more inclusive community, one that may resemble God’s beloved kingdom.
- Commentary by Liam Myers (Future Church) Liam Myers is a freelance writer, an adjunct professor of religious studies, and member of the Catholic Worker Maryhouse in NYC. Liam finds beauty in the everyday; in a slow walk through riverside park, in a good bowl of potato leek soup, and in playing his saxophone with friends.
Labor Day Observance, Sept. 3, 2023
Check-ins
Opening Song: Bread and roses lyric video (version from the film Pride) - YouTube
Opening Prayer: Co-collaborator God,
You bless us with gifts to be used to help others and improve our world. Make us mindful of how best to support work in our community and in the world. May the risk of greed not overshadow the need for justice and opportunity. Show us how you most want us to work with you in changing the world. AMEN.
(Choose Readers)
FIRST READING: A Reading from the Book of Ruth 2:2-9
Ruth, a young widow and a Moabite, lived with her mother-in-law, Naomi. All of Naomi’s children had died, and Naomi also was widowed. Together, they moved to Judah, Naomi’s home country.
In order to sustain themselves, Ruth, said to Naomi, “Let me go glean ears of grain in the field of anyone who will allow me that favor.” Naomi replied, “Yes, go, my daughter.” So, she went and gleaned in a field behind the harvesters. She happened to come to the part of the field belonging to Boaz, who was of the family of Naomi’s husband, Elimelech (which means God is my Ruler).
Just then, Boaz returned from Bethlehem and greeted the harvesters, “God be with you.”
“God bless you!” they replied.
Boaz asked the head laborer of the harvesters, “Where does this young woman come from? To whom does she belong?” The head laborer replied, “She is the Moabite who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She asked, ‘Please, let me glean whatever falls from the sheaves behind the reapers.’ Ever since early this morning until now she has been on her feet, with scarcely a moment’s rest.”
Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Listen, my daughter. Don’t glean in anyone else’s field, and don’t leave my field. Stay close to the other women who work for me. Keep your eyes on the field that is being reaped and follow behind them. I have ordered the young men not to bother you. Whenever you are thirsty, go and get a drink from the pitchers of water they have drawn.”
The Word of an Ancient Storyteller.
Thanks be to God.
RESPONSORIAL PSALM: Psalm 72:1-2+4; 12-14; 16+17b
Our Psalm Response is: We reach out our hands.
R: We reach out our hands.
Let the rulers rule with Your justice, O God,
providing hope to those who benefit least.
May they defend the cause of those who
are poor among the people.
May they defend the oppressed and guard their children,
overturning uneven tables.
R: We reach out our hands.
Like God, let us offer a hand
to those in need when they call,
to those who have no helper.
God's compassion is stirred
by those who are vulnerable.
From extortion and violence, God redeems people.
Precious is their blood in God's sight.
R: We reach out our hands.
May there be abundance of grain for all.
May it wave on the tops of mountains!
May its fruit be like Lebanon!
May people blossom across the land,
like the grass of the field!
May the peoples of Earth be a blessing.
May all be happy in one another.
R: We reach out our hands.
SECOND READING: A Reading from Paul's Letter to the Roms12:9-13
Let love be genuine. Hate what is evil. Hold fast to what is good. Love one another with mutual affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal but be fervent in spirit as you serve God. Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints. Extend hospitality to strangers.
The Word of the Apostle Paul.
Thanks be to God.
Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.
GOSPEL: A Reading from the Gospel attributed to Matthew 20:1-16
Glory to you, O God.
The kin-dom of heaven is like an owner of a vineyard who went out early in the morning to hire workers. After agreeing with the workers for the usual daily wage, one denarius, the workers went into the vineyard. When the owner went out about nine o’clock and found others standing idle in the marketplace, the wine grower said to them, “You also go to my vineyard, and I will pay you what is just.” So, they went. Then the owner went out again about noon, and then also at about three o’clock, and did the same. And about five o’clock, still others were standing around. So, the owner said, “Why are you standing here idle all day?” They replied, “Because no one has hired us.” The wine grower said, “You also go into my vineyard.”
When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to the manager, “Call the workers and pay them their wages, starting with the last arrivals and ending with the first.” Those who were hired at the end of the day came forward and received the usual daily wage, one denarius.
Then, when the first workers came forward, they expected to get more, but they too received one denarius each, a usual day’s They took it, but grumbled at the wine grower saying, “The workers who came last have put in only one hour, and you have treated them the same as us, even though we have done a heavy day’s labor in the heat.” The landowner answered one of them and said, “My friend, I am not being unjust to you. Did we not agree on one denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to pay the latecomer as much as I pay you. Have I no right to do what I like with my own affairs? Why should you be envious because I am generous?”
It is in this way that the last will be first, and the first, last.
The Gospel of God.
Praise to you, Jesus the Christ.
Discussion: Ruth knows the system well enough to use it to her advantage and Naomi complies. In our second reading, Paul tells us to “Let love be genuine.” Our gospel vineyard owner is generous, but is he genuine? Will he always give more? How do we trust someone who ignores convention? All workers hope to feel valued and respected for the work they do. What is fairness?
· Tipping everywhere
· Student loan forgiveness
· Reparations for race disparity
· Native American land loss
· Affirmative action in colleges/Legacy admissions
· Center for Worker Justice helps immigrants get fair wages.
August 27, 2023--21st Sunday in Ordinary Time
Full Eucharist
Opening Song: God Has Chosen Me God Has Chosen Me - YouTube
Opening Prayer: God of Love,
Remind us of your compassion in creating us to be who we are. Renew our joy of being called, chosen by you to emulate love in our world. We rely on your grace to show us the way and to encourage us when we get it wrong. Bless our liturgy today and our time together as we gather to share our faith. This we pray as those who are life-learners in how to love. AMEN.
Penitential Rite:
Eternal God, in whose presence we gather, you have promised us grace and pardon when we acknowledge our human frailty. We recognize and confess that we have at times failed to respond fully to your gracious presence in our lives. We have not always done what we were capable of doing. We are human and long to become our fullest selves with your grace. Reconcile us to you and to all people. Forgive our failings and affirm our triumphs. Strengthen us anew for life as you intend it. This we pray through Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Gloria:
Glory to God in the highest, and peace to God’s people on earth. O God, heavenly Being, all loving God and Mother, we praise you, we give you thanks, we honor all creation. Jesus Christ, blessed Son of the Creator, Our God, help us to become a loving people: for you have loved us from the beginning and you dwell within us always. For you, Eternal Word, are Whole and Holy, you are the light of our faith, one with the Trinity, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God our Father. Amen.
(Choose Readers)
FIRST READING: Kate Bowler, Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved
“Everything happens for a reason.” The only thing worse than saying this is pretending that you know the reason. I’ve had hundreds of people tell me the reason for my cancer. Because of my sin. Because of my unfaithfulness. Because God is fair. Because God is unfair. Because of my aversion to Brussels sprouts. I mean, no one is short of reasons. So if people tell you this, make sure you are there when they go through the cruelest moments of their lives, and start offering your own. When someone is drowning, the only thing worse than failing to throw them a life preserver is handing them a reason.”
Words of a Wise Woman who survived cancer.
Thanks be to God.
RESPONSORIAL PSALM: 138:1-2a, 2b-3, 4-6a, 7-8 (adapted from Nan Merrill and NABRE)
Our Psalm Response is: Your Love endures forever.
R: Your Love endures forever.
I give You thanks, O Blessed One, with all my heart.
With cosmic witness, and a multitude of angels,
I will sing songs to You.
I was humbled when I realized that You dwell in me,
in the Sacred Chapel of all souls.
R: Your Love endures forever.
My gratitude knows no bounds!
You are the Holy One, Life of our life.
On the day that I called, You answered.
With You, my breath is strong, my spirit soars.
R: Your Love endures forever.
All the leaders of the earth will one day praise You
when Your spirit awakens their hearts.
They will sing of Your ways,
"Great is Love's glory."
For even as You are the Most High,
You are Friend to the humble.
R: Your Love endures forever.
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You give Life.
When wars rage, You stretch out Your hand.
Your presence upholds me.
You remain with me till the end.
Your love, O God, endures forever,
never forsaking the work of Your hands.
R: Your Love endures forever.
SECOND READING: A Reading from Paul’s Letter to the Romans 11:33-12:2
O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are Your judgments! How unfathomable Your ways!
“For what human being has ever known the mind of God?
What human being has ever been God’s advisor?
Who has ever given a gift to God,
expecting the same in return?”
Everything comes from God, and everything returns to God. To God be glory forever.
Therefore, beloved, instead of giving “things” to God, present your very selves to God as a living sacrifice. You, your life, is holy and pleasing to God. Living for God is your spiritual worship. So, do not model yourselves after the pattern of this age. Rather be transformed by the renewal of your hearts and minds, so that you may discern the desire of God's heart, what is good and pleasing and true.
The Word of the Apostle Paul.
Thanks be to God.
Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.
GOSPEL: Readings from the Gospels attributed to Matthew 16:13-26
Glory to you, O God.
When Jesus came into the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Chosen One is?” They responded, “Some say John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus asked, “But you, who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the One from the Living God.” Jesus replied, “Simon, son of Jonah! Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Loving God in heaven. So I say to you: You are Peter and on this rock I will build my community. The gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the reign of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven. Whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Then Jesus strictly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.
The Gospel of God.
Praise to you, Jesus the Christ.
Homily: “Who do you say that I am?” It’s a great question for us all. We’ve been taught so many things about God and I wonder how many of these ideas remain true for us. I’ve never been able to understand a loving God who allows for suffering. This is called theodicy. God and suffering don’t mix easily. One way of trying to resolve this paradox is to believe that God set us, the world, in motion and here we are, doing the best we can to be faithful, to remain seekers of the truth.
Our first reading is from a book that I love. Kate Bowler is no-nonsense in bashing all the classic lessons about God that we’ve been taught. She’s angry. Life can do that to us; make us very angry when trials come, as they do. I can remember being enraged with God and questioning God’s existence. It took me a long time to reshape my faith and to keep questioning. None of us have all the answers. That’s the point. Please be someone who listens, who holds a hand rather than the person who has an answer. That’s what most helps.
Paul, in our second reading, tells us to give of ourselves to God, to not rely on others to show us how to love God but to be who we are, in all our glory. That’s enough. God wants us to live out of love for ourselves, not shame or self-doubt. Using our gifts gives back to God what we’ve been given. And love is the best gift of all. Give love. Whenever possible, give love.
Our gospel is the age-old story of Peter being appointed to lead God’s church. I wonder if it was simply Jesus encouraging Peter to be strong, to be a leader in his community, to forgive. Our current pope has more humility than the previous one which is a relief. Still, I wonder how power became the most important message rather than leadership and love. We are stuck with a Church that seems to want to reverse itself, to go back to judgment and rules.
What rules could be created to encourage love? These are the rules that matter. Let us continue to create a faith community that truly lives by the law of love. We need not get too specific. Rather, let’s relinquish the rules that cause guilt and shame, exclusion and inhumane standards. Love endures forever, but only if it is practiced and protected by those of us who know better.
Amen.
Profession of Faith:
We believe in God who is creator and nurturer of all. We believe in Jesus, the Christ, who is our love, our hope, and our light. We believe in the Holy Spirit, the breath of Wisdom Sophia, who energizes and guides us in building caring communities and in challenging oppression, exploitation, and injustices. We believe that God loves us passionately and forgives us everything. We believe that we are radiant images of God who calls us to live fully, love tenderly, and serve generously. We believe in the communion of saints, our heavenly friends, who support us on life’s journey. We believe in the partnership and equality of women and men in our church and world. We believe that all are one in the Heart of God. Here we live our prophetic call to compassion and equality for all. Amen.
Prayers of the Faithful:
We invite you to give voice to any concerns, needs and thanksgivings. After each petition, please say, “Hear our prayer.”
Our response: Amen.
We believe that you hear our prayers and join us in our time of need and gratitude. For these and the requests we carry in the silence of our hearts, be near and fill us with your grace. Amen.
Preparation of the Gifts
Blessed are you, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer which earth has given and human hands have made.
It will become for us the bread of life.
All: Blessed be God forever.
Blessed are you, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become our spiritual drink.
All: Blessed be God forever.
My sisters and brothers, let us pray that these gifts may be acceptable to God, our Creator. +
All: Creator God, accept these gifts from our hands for the praise and glory of your name, for our good and the good of all your people.
Ever-gentle God, Jesus accepted all who came to him as an example for us. Accept our gifts, our intentions and ourselves. We offer our lives in service to you and your people. Fill us with the spirit of humility and love. We ask this through Jesus our hope. Amen.
Eucharistic Prayer I [Compiled and adapted by Full Circle]
Creator God, Jesus’ disciples, both male and female, knew the power of love, and they became the tellers of love’s tale in both word and practice. Love united them in faith, love bound them in praise, love cemented their purpose, enjoining them to live in a faith community with true compassion, concern, and love for the poorest among them. Jesus’ commandment of love announced a new world of justice, reconciliation, and peace. Jesus, filled with the spirit, gave his life to change the unjust practices of this world. For our sake, He suffered, died, and revealed the resurrection. In this He fulfilled God’s will, establishing for all time the reign of truth upon the earth. And so, we join the angels and saints in proclaiming Your glory as we say:
Holy, holy, holy, God of gentleness and light. Heaven
and Earth are full of Your glory. Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is the One who comes in the name of our God.
Hosanna in the Highest.
We give You thanks for the gift of conscience that allows us to recognize the hypocrisy of our time, and in Your name, seek to rectify the errors that have worked to separate us, Your people, from You. Aware that we are one with You, we give You praise for Your loving presence in all people to discern for themselves that we are the Church, and we have the responsibility to lay the groundwork for a new model of Catholicism that engages the talents of Your People. We thank You for Jesus who showed us the way to put our energy into changing ourselves.
On the night of His arrest, as Jesus shared a meal with his friends, He took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to his followers, saying:
(Please extend your hands and say these words together)
Take this, all of you, and eat it. This is my body, which will be
given up for you.
When the supper was over, He took the cup, gave thanks and gave it to His disciples, saying:
(Please extend your hands and say these words together)
Take this, all of you, and drink from it. This is the cup of my
blood, the life of the new and everlasting covenant, a covenant
of love. Do this in memory of me.
Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:
Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.
God of love, spirit of compassion, bless us and this bread and wine. May this meal be food and drink for our journey—renewing, sustaining, and making us whole. When we eat this bread and drink from this cup we experience again the presence of Jesus in our midst. The table is ready. All are welcome. Come, for the feast is spread. Send us from here to reveal Your love to the world. Inspire in us the resolve and the courage, the compassion and the passion, to do justice, to offer kindness, and to walk with You.
God of light and truth, we ask Your assistance to reclaim our church, and bring it in line with the gospel values on which it was founded. We are interested in "re-founding" Your Church with a structure like the early Christian Church—through small faith communities at the grass roots, reflecting the Gospel of the living, liberating and raising us up in Jesus the Christ. Consequently, we are putting our energy into changing ourselves and educating ourselves that we are the Church, and we have the responsibility to re-claim our Catholic beliefs and values.
In their quest for justice, we express our solidarity with the victims, survivors, and the families of those abused by the Catholic clergy. It is time for us to rise up and take a leadership role in bringing our Church in line with Gospel values and the spirit of love as Jesus intended.
All: Through Christ, may all creation unfold; With Christ, may all creation be one; ln Christ, may all divisions be healed; In the unity of the Holy Spirit, may all glory and honor be Yours, forever and ever. Amen!
The peace of Christ be with you all.
All: And also with you.
Let us offer each other a sign of Christ’s peace.
The Lord’s Prayer: Our Abba. (New Zealand Anglican Version)
Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:
The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.
With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever.
Amen.
Communion: This is Jesus, the Bread of Life and the Wine of Salvation. How blessed are we who are called to this table.
All: God, by your invitation, we delight in our worthiness to receive you.
Announcements: 1) MK gone Sept. 17th (LOW)
2) Potluck Sept. 24 at MK’s house
Closing Prayer: Source of All Being,
We praise you for the chance to share our beliefs and questions. May we be committed to facing this challenge, living with integrity for the rest of our lives. And may we ever be aware of your presence in the Other we encounter, day in and day out. This we pray as people of faith. AMEN.
May our loving Godde bless you in the name of the Creator, the Word and Holy Wisdom +
Go in the peace of Christ to love and serve the world.
Thanks be to God.
is the patron saint for RCWP and is often called the Apostle to the Apostles. Mary of Magdala is so designated because of today’s gospel reading.
Every year, we read from John’s gospel. Everyone else in the traditional Catholic church will typically hear Mark or Matthew’s gospel. Why? The Matthew and Mark versions of the resurrection have little to say about Mary of Magdala. That seems to be in keeping with making sure women remain hidden and instead, uplifting the men in the story. However, because John is the key story of Mary being commissioned by Jesus to “go and tell the others,” at Full Circle, we make sure she is highlighted every Easter. Jesus instructs Mary to tell the apostles and therefore, all of us, that she has seen the risen Christ. It’s quite a story and the traditional Catholic church would much rather you not know about how important Mary was. That’s why we shout it to the rooftops, whenever possible.
In John’s gospel, Mary is grieving. Afterall, she knew Jesus personally. She walked and talked with him, shared meals with him and was clearly a beloved friend of Jesus. When she goes to the tomb to anoint Jesus’s body, she is doing what all good Jewish women would do. This anointing of the body would typically have taken place before burial. It’s unclear why that didn’t happen. One belief is that Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus, and others were in a rush before the Sabbath to get Jesus “buried” that is, placed in a small cave with a stone rolled in front of the entrance. No one was buried on the Sabbath because it was/is the Jews’ holy day. Also, it’s known that 75 pounds of spices was used which probably indicates how rich Nicodemus was but also how revered Jesus was. It was also intended to keep the stench down until the women could return early Sunday morning to finish the anointing of Jesus’ body.
Mary is horrified to learn that there is no body in the tomb. She is desperate to find out where the body of Jesus had been taken. She begs the gardener to tell her where they have taken it. And then, just when she is at her most vulnerable, Jesus says her name, “Mary.” Immediately, Mary recognizes that it is Jesus speaking to her. How is that possible? How is he now alive? She had seen Lazarus come back to life but that was because Jesus was there. Now, this is different.
This story challenges us to believe that this is a physical resurrection of the body but somehow different. Jesus stops Mary from hugging him, “because I have not yet ascended to my Abba God.” Is he somehow in between? I remember a woman telling me that she felt her mom, who was dying, was not “here” anymore; that “she’s somewhere in between.” It’s a curious idea; not fully dead? Jesus clearly interacted with Mary and urged her to tell the others about this interaction. She was to spread the news that new life is possible after death. We’ll never really know what that in between-ness is about, but it’s interesting to ponder.
In a sense, Mary was one of the first to share a new phenomenon. Resurrection. Being alive after death. She would’ve been ridiculed and questioned and discounted many times. But she was willing to follow what Jesus asked of her: Go and tell the others.
When I was young, I was taught that I had to have a personal relationship with Jesus. I went on retreats and learned to fall in love with a Jesus who then was the image of a young man, very good looking. We called him the “Hook’s Jesus” because it was a picture of Jesus drawn by a man whose last name is Hook. Remember?
Who wouldn’t want to feel loved by this guy? Anyway, for a young woman, it was easy to imagine. Since then, I’ve grown to understand my relationship with God in very different ways. Now, I’d say I relate more to the idea of God as Source, the source of all love. My image of God is that of light, warm and inviting. That’s very different from my teenage years.
How do you relate to God? Is it deeply personal? Or more abstract? Some religions sing about this very intimate relationship with Jesus and encourage it. Others are less personal, more about doing the outreach that Jesus preached. Some of us work on maintaining a connection with our God, praying throughout the day. Certainly, prayer and meditation help us to slow down and move outside ourselves, which is almost always a good thing.
Mary of Magdala was a courageous woman who had the benefit of knowing Jesus personally. Her relationship enabled her to go and tell the others, regardless of their reaction. It’s that kind of deep faith that we are reminded of today. Resurrection is all about new life. We are meant to embody this belief. We encourage hope when life is at its darkest. We believe that transformation is always possible, even when the world seems lost. May we “go and tell the others,” this message of resurrection whenever and wherever possible. Happy Easter.
Homily for Trinity Sunday 6.13.22 by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Proverbs 8:22-31
Romans 5:1-5
Luke 10:21-24
Trinity= the state of being three. That’s the most succinct definition of the word “trinity” I’ve ever found. It says so much and it says so very little. What we’ve always known is that the concept of trinity is a hotly debated word. The word is not even in the Bible. In Genesis, God does refer to himself as “we.” So, there are hints of God needing to be in relationship for God to be God. Unfortunately, this one word has caused centuries of argument and division within the Christian faith.
The first time the church tried to figure out what the “divine identity” of God meant was in the early third century. Tertullian is given credit for having invented the word “trinity.” But it wasn’t until the Council of Constantinople in 381AD that the “divinity of the Spirit” was declared. Are you kidding me? We hadn’t accepted that the Spirit was divine, even though Jesus said that God the Father would send the Holy Spirit? The Spirit came from God, but it took almost 400 years after Jesus’s death to make it “official.” That’s the traditional church at work, right?
All of us remember the symbol of the clover; three parts in one. Also, the equilateral triangle is often used as a representation of the trinity, equal parts of one symbol. In my preparations, I found the sun used as a symbol of the trinity. The sun is viewed as God, the rays as Jesus coming to the earth and the heat of the sun as the Holy Spirit which helps us grow. So many attempts to name God and his/her identity and function. It made me wonder if it isn’t as simple as recognizing the various roles/titles we all embody. I am mom, wife, daughter, sister in my family, just as you have different roles in your family. We express these roles in various ways, but I am the same person. This may be too simple when we try to put this in reference to God but it can help us try to appreciate the concept.
Our First Reading sets the stage for understanding the trinity. We should be asking, “Who is speaking? Who is saying “they” were present before creation?” It says, “I was with God. I was God’s hands.” Such a lovely way of affirming that God was not alone, right? Some believe this is Lady Wisdom. Some say Wisdom is a personified attribute of Yahweh or maybe She was some angelic-like being. If this is Wisdom “speaking” then who wrote Proverbs? Proverbs is believed to have been written by King Solomon. Remember what he was known for? Wisdom! He prays for wisdom because he knows the value of being wise. How fitting that he gives voice to Wisdom as being part of the creation of the universe.
Elizabeth Webb, a theologian says this about Wisdom: Wisdom is a prophetess, a preacher, who stands amidst the people and demands attention. She does not work quietly, behind the scenes, but she is to be the guiding force in all-human affairs. This is the kind of Holy Spirit we recognize. Strong, powerful, and motivating. So, Proverbs helps us to begin to name the trinity by introducing us to Holy Wisdom.
Jesus instructed the disciples to baptize people in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. It’s the basis for our sign-of-the-cross that we as Catholics often use. And, it’s a simple ritual for the Trinity. For God, RCWP uses many words: Creator, Source of All Being, Holy One, Divine Parent, Loving God as a more inclusive way of addressing the Father/Our Parent. Then for Jesus, we often say, Redeemer, the Word, our Brother Jesus, Christ our Liberator. Finally, for the Holy Spirit we have said Sophia Wisdom, Holy Wisdom, Sanctifier, Eternal Spirit to indicate that the wisdom of God is found in this third element of the Trinity. We use different names because no ONE name expresses all we’d like to express.
Our Second Reading provides great encouragement for moving beyond the discussion of Trinity to a much more pragmatic understanding of God’s grace. Paul says that we will make mistakes and that God’s grace is there for us, as we move to become our fullest selves. Even hardship has a purpose for helping us to move towards hope. This hope will not disappoint because of God’s love that has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. There it is again! That third person of the Trinity. Thank you, Holy Wisdom for being with us now and always in our faith journey.
What is most important is that we remember that the whole concept of Trinity is a mystery. We can only make limited efforts at naming what this mystery fully means. Frederick Buechner says it this way: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit mean that the mystery beyond us, the mystery among us, and the mystery within us are all the same mystery. Thus, the Trinity is a way of saying something about us and the way we experience God. (1973)
Let us understand that God is love and love finds its expression in a variety of ways. Whether or not there is an official definition like the “state of being three” which still makes me smile, I invite us to ponder that God is much more than three—God gets expressed in a multitude of ways and the limitation of three is a bit humorous at best. That would be considered heresy in some churches, especially those that are in need of controlling what people believe about God. My hope is that God gets released from our human need for limitations and definitions and threesome-ness and is instead a God of unlimited possibilities and manifestations. Afterall, love is a verb and we cannot contain its expression. Thanks be to God!
Sixth Sunday of Easter May 22, 2022
The Holy Spirit is with us By Nick Smith
A Reading from the Acts of the Apostles 15:1-2, 22-29
“For it seemed good to the HOLY SPIRIT, and to us, to lay upon you NO greater burden than these necessary things: that you abstain from things offered to idols, from blood, from things strangled, and from pagan sexual rituals. Keep from these, and you keep our faith. God be with you!”
Neither party involved in the controversy at Antioch wanted to see the decline of their church. It was one of the fastest growing churches in the whole world. It was one that had begun to send missionaries all over, a flagship church in world evangelism. It was working in the compassion ministry of famine relief. It had a great number of godly elders teaching it, and it was adding to its number regularly. And they were the first to bear the name Christians. They got a prophesy from a member about a famine in Jerusalem, so they began a collection to aid Jerusalem in its need, and every member gave to it. Whatever theological controversy or other distraction had come, nobody wanted to see the growth stop, but they did want to get it right and grow in the right way. The Antioch church sent Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem to settle the dispute.
Paul argued that Jesus instituted a new covenant…the covenant of faith, love, mercy, and forgiveness. This implied that Jewish believers were God’s people not because they were Jewish, but because they were believers. The Law of Moses was not written for Christians, but for the Jews. The Ten Commandments on the other hand was written by God, and must be obeyed until the end of time, by both Jews and Christians alike. Everything God ordered and instituted must be kept sacred.
The Jerusalem assembly approached the issue from a totally different perspective. After much discussion, Peter got up and addressed them: “Brothers, you know that some time ago God made a choice among you that the Gentiles might hear from my lips the message of the gospel and believe. God, who knows the heart, showed that he accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as he did to us. He did not discriminate between us (circumcised Jews) and them (uncircumcised Gentiles), for he purified their hearts by faith. Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of Gentiles a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors have been able to bear?” (Acts15:7-10)
Peter is expressing the opinion to the Jewish Christians that the Law of Moses was in many instances failing in its purpose, because not even the Jews could keep them successfully. No matter how hard people tried to obey the laws, they could never be perfect. We can’t earn salvation, so it has to be given to us by grace from God. The Law of Moses did not bring salvation, but judgement. Gentiles were saved by grace and so were the Jewish believers.
The basic discussion was as follows: “Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians are not under the Law of Moses.” The Law of Moses was a temporary ceremonial law that regulated the priesthood, sacrifices, rituals and meat and drink offerings. This law would only be valid until Christ was crucified. (Galatians 3:16-3:19). The ritual and ceremony of Moses' law pointed forward to the day that Christ would be sacrificed on the cross as a once-off offering which would be acceptable to God. When He died, this law became fulfilled…complete, but the Ten Commandments (GOD’S law) "stand fast for ever and ever." (Psalm 111:7-111:8).
James was in complete agreement with Peter and Paul. “It is my judgment, therefore, that we should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God” (Acts 15:19). He suggested that the only Laws of Moses that gentile Christians should obey, were not the temporary ones instituted from Moses, but the law of God. In Genesis 9 Noah receives a covenant from the God. Part of the covenant removed the prior restrictions against eating meat, allowing Noah and his family to kill animals for food. However, the allowance came with this condition: “But you must NOT eat meat that has its lifeblood still in it” Instead of making things difficult for the gentiles, the four rules would be enough.
A reading from the Gospel attributed to John 14:21, 23b, 25-29
This passage is part of Jesus’ farewell discourse to his disciples on the night before his death, a discourse punctuated by the anxious questions of his disciples about his impending departure. Jesus has promised not to leave his disciples orphaned (John 14:18). He has promised to send another Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to be with them forever (14:16) and continue the work that he has begun. The world does not recognize the Spirit of truth and thus cannot receive him (4:17), just as it has not received Jesus. Jesus tells his disciples that though the world will no longer see him, they themselves will see him (John 4:19) because he will reveal himself to them (4:21). Then Judas (not Iscariot) asks: “Lord, how is it that you will reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?” (4:22) This passage begins with Jesus’ response to this question. Perhaps Judas expects that Jesus will give them some kind of secret knowledge, but that is not what Jesus means.
It is through the Holy Spirit, the Advocate or Paraclete, that Jesus will continue to be present with his disciples. Jesus says that God will send the Holy Spirit to be alongside his disciples, to teach them and remind them of all that Jesus has said to them (John 14:26). Because Jesus will be present with them through the Holy Spirit, his disciples need not be anxious. Chapter 14 begins with Jesus’ exhortation, “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:1). Now again Jesus exhorts, “Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid,” after telling his disciples, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives” (14:27).
As Jesus seeks to prepare his disciples for what is to come, he tells them that if they loved him, they would rejoice that he is going to God, because God is greater than him (John 14:28). It seems understandable that the disciples would not be in a rejoicing mood upon learning that Jesus would soon be leaving them. Jesus tries to reassure them that he is not simply leaving them, but that there is a purpose in his leaving; he is going to be with God. Later in this same discourse, Jesus will tell them that it is to their advantage that he is going away, so that he can send the Advocate, who will bring further understanding and be with them always (16:7)
Above all else, it is this profound love of God that Jesus has made known to his disciples and that the Holy Spirit continues to make known to us. The Spirit assures us that we are never abandoned. Just before promising the help of the Holy Spirit, Jesus makes a strong comment about the relationship between a person's love for Christ and their actions. The statement is brutally brief and to-the-point: "If you love me, you will keep my commandments" (John 14:15). To help us in that way, we are promised assistance from the Holy Spirit.
I find wonderful parallels between today’s readings and the work Full Circle did on our synod report to Rome. I am so very proud that we were guided by the Holy Spirit to emulate the first synod in Jerusalem, taking up the cause of Peter, Paul, Barnabas, and ultimately Jesus the Christ.
Homily for Palm Sunday 2022 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Readings: Isaiah 40:1-8a, Philippians 2:6-11, and Luke 19:28-42
Today is when we say, “Hosanna” and “Prepare Ye the Way.” We break the solemn Lenten mood. It is seen as a day of rejoicing. But, when we look more closely, Palm Sunday is actually a very bittersweet holy day. As we listen to the gospel, we should have mixed emotions. We know what’s coming next. So, the “Hosannas” sound a bit hollow, right? The jubilation is very short-lived. These are the people who could’ve helped bring about change but they were stubborn and naive, more concerned about status than love and care of others. We’d like to believe that they are so unlike us. Aren’t we more ready to change? Would we have known any better what Jesus was trying to do? It’s such a radical message. We have the benefit of hindsight—we have been able to learn and better understand. And yet, the world still struggles to both believe and live the healing message of love that Jesus taught.
The war in Ukraine speaks for itself. Horrific war crimes are happening as we speak, in this day and age. 80 years ago, after the Holocaust, most of the world vowed, “Never again.” How can this be happening? What’s to be done? I can barely allow myself to hear about it, let alone watch it. It’s too much, too much evidence of how cruel and heartless people can be—in this day and age. Right here and now. We continue to see injustice, love of power and selfish ambition rule over so many who beg for change. Instead of waving leafy palms, I find myself lifting my palms to the heavens to ask why? Why does it take so long, centuries, millennium to open hearts that could then cause change in behavior?
We can easily judge and pontificate about how we might handle the situation. If only we had the advantage of hindsight here, we might know better what to do. Instead, we try our best to support our leaders who do what they can do without causing a nuclear response.
In our first reading, Isaiah reminds us that we are the chosen ones: “I, your God, have called you for justice. I have grasped you by the hand. I formed you, and set you as a covenant for the people, enlightenment for the nations.” There is a burden of accountability in these words. We are to help enlighten others. And then Paul reminds us that Jesus chose to be servant rather than seeking glory. It’s in our nature to want praise and applause. But Jesus says, No. What happens in today’s gospel will not last, because it’s not the full message. Yes, Jesus is the Messiah but as a humble servant. Love of others rules over love of self. Such a difficult message in the current land of selfies and hateful school killings.
Jesus gives us a very clear message in this gospel reading. Let’s not miss it. First, the road from Jericho to Jerusalem ascends, it goes upwards. There is cause for hope as the story begins. Secondly, Jesus entered the city on a colt which is a baby donkey that is less than 4 years of age. Such an animal is very small and could barely carry a grown man. Jesus was so low that his feet might have been scraping the ground as he was carried along. Can you picture that? How strange. But I believe that this speaks volumes about Jesus and his message.
Jesus was no knight on a regal white stallion, high above the ground, showing power and majesty. No. Jesus was a humble man, a teacher, rabbi, riding a young, innocent colt, one that had never been ridden before. It’s not been broken in or well trained. Jesus’ message is right in front of the crowd, but they don’t notice. They do not understand. Jesus enters on a young donkey to prove that he is not about having power or a kingdom or overthrowing anyone. He is about the kind of peace that only those who have open hearts will understand. He knows that the crowd only loves him for his miracles, not for his lessons. This kind of glory is fickle and changes before the week is over, as we all know.
Palm leaves were seen as symbols or instruments of rejoicing, ways to gain attention, to say, “Here he is. Hello, Messiah! We love you.” I wonder if now, instead of waving branches of trees, if we could see ourselves, our own palms as instruments of change. Perhaps now we are to be the instruments. Our palms are here to wave in outrage and pleading, to wave in support of those we trust, and to wave in outreach to tend the poor and injured. Part of me wants to go to Ukraine to be on the ground helping directly, using my palms to help lift up what has been torn down. Holding a traumatized child’s hand to help bring healing. Just watching what’s happening on TV makes me feel so helpless. I raise my fists in anger and am brought to my knees in sorrow. And my palms could be doing so much more good, if I were there.
Today we are living examples of what it means to do what is unexpected in times of rage and hatred. We pray for the people of Ukraine and for Putin, that he may end this war. We take time to learn where our money can do the most good in helping those who are suffering most. And we remember that we are the agents for change. The very palms of our hands best symbolize Palm Sunday. When we sing, Hosanna, let us raise our palms in praise of God’s grace and what we still believe is possible. Some day, some how, the way of Jesus will triumph. AMEN.
March 20, 2022 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
FIRST READING: A Reading from the First Book of Kings 17:17-24
SECOND READING: A Reading from the Acts of the Apostles 9:36-43
GOSPEL: A Reading from the Good News attributed to Luke 7:11-17
March 13: HOMILY
Today we hear stories of resurrection. Hope. Care for the least in all three readings. These are strong narratives; cause for faith in a God who can actually save lives. After such readings we may be caused to proclaim, “There is life after death! Life beyond the grave!” Such a miracle is recounted in each reading. Each story brings a person back to life here on earth. How was that possible? Could it mean that they weren’t really dead? Were they in some kind of coma and revived? Does this prove that there is life beyond death? So many questions…
These are the kinds of questions I love. I’ve spent my professional career being with those who face the end of their life. And, I’ve helped them explore the mystery of what’s next? Some, myself included, firmly believe that there’s something next. I’ve seen enough evidence of patients “seeing” those who’ve died at their bedside. And, there’s been so many amazing “coincidences.” Recently, a man who had gotten two heart transplants, died on Valentine’s Day. Coincidence? He had been slowly dying for days, making his family question many things. When he died on that day, a day that represents love, they were at peace. You can’t make that up. And you can choose to believe it means more or not.
I’ve also witnessed those who don’t believe there’s anything after this life. They want to live as long as possible which is understandable. Either way, there is great meaning in how we view what’s next. Today’s miracles may not fully answer this question, but they certainly help us to hope for more.
Luke talks about widows more than any other Gospel writer. Each time these stories are told, forgotten women are brought into focus. Women in the time of Jesus were completely vulnerable to the laws and whims of men. A widow would be at risk of having no home, no money and no future. Having a son, especially ensured that a woman would be cared for, since men were so valued then. But, even having a daughter, a woman would at least be assured of having a home that her future daughter might have, once she married. Women were valued almost exclusively for the children they could bear. Once a husband died, the widow was one of the most disposable persons in society. Only having a child could save her. How fitting that Luke helps us to understand the deep compassion Jesus felt for these women, that he chose to see them and their plight.
As a mother of three sons, I can remember feeling proud that I had birthed sons. Why? How did that matter in this day and age? My oldest will be 33 this coming March 26th. He will carry the name of our family, except that he and his wife have chosen not to have children. Times are so different now. I certainly have no fear of my future. Even if my other two sons don’t have children, I’ll be just fine, with or without my spouse.
So, it can be difficult to imagine the depth of terror for a widow in the time of Jesus. The point is, Jesus cared most for those in most need, even to the point of life over death. Resurrecting a child was perhaps his greatest miracle, but it doesn’t get the emphasis it deserves. Maybe that prejudice remains—after all, it was only a child and just a widow. No! Let us change the significance of this story and deeply appreciate how wondrous a miracle it was. It should’ve been what changed everyone’s mind about Jesus and his ministry. But, just as in today’s world where corrupt leaders like Putin still have fans, people are not easily persuaded to change their minds once they have an established way of thinking.
In another part of Luke, Jesus retells our first reading, citing Elijah’s care for the widow. Most of those gathered would’ve known this story but, rather than it causing awe, it caused anger. They understood that Jesus was comparing himself to Elijah. So, the crowd tried to kill him. They couldn’t believe that someone they knew would be the messiah. The whole transformative power of what Jesus was doing was missed completely. People who are set in their ways are not easily moved. Let that not be true for us.
Luke is also the author of Acts. Here, he tells the story of Tabitha which is Dorcas in the Greek. She was a beloved disciple; her specific designation as an apostle proves that Jesus had women disciples. Tabitha took God’s commands about society’s most vulnerable seriously, which is perhaps why they stopped to visit her, after hearing about her death. Tabitha would make special robes and clothing for widows. She may have been a widow herself but she was also independently wealthy.
Biblical studies scholar, Robin Gallaher Branch says, “Tabitha is so beloved and so essential to the life of her believing community in Joppa, a port city near the heart of modern Tel Aviv, that others cannot imagine life without her. Tabitha simply cannot stay dead. Her faithful community will not permit it!” Now known as St. Tabitha, she is the patron saint of seamstresses and tailors. Anchor her in your mind as another woman who needs to be lauded, after being unknown for most Catholics.
Finally, the resurrection of the child in our gospel is a precursor for Jesus’s own death; that death will not prevail. During Lent, this is the kind of hope that helps us to endure, not just 40 days but 40 years or 40 + 40 years. May we see with new eyes after today’s readings, aware of how we can make changes where they are needed most.
I can’t help but wonder what our call is for the people of Ukraine. They are in such need. As we speak, there are widows being made. They must wonder how they will survive. How can we make a difference?
Feb. 13, 2022 HOMILY
Taken from Luke 6:17-26 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
When we first hear today’s gospel, we might think it’s the Sermon on the Mount. Afterall, we’ve heard the beatitudes many times before. But this is Luke’s gospel. This reading is called the Sermon on the Plain and it’s different for a reason.
Jesus has just appointed his twelve apostles. He has come down from the mountain to be among the people. Jesus wants to be with us in our human condition, our not so pretty times, our suffering and our sorrow. So, Luke puts Jesus in the midst of us. Jesus is still speaking to his newly appointed 12 apostles, but he’s also speaking to us. Rather than speaking from a mountain on high, Jesus is with us, truly with us in our daily life.
And there’s a crowd. Some have come from over a hundred miles away (Tyre and Sidon) to hear Jesus, to touch him, to be healed by him. He has made such a difference in so many lives already. Word has spread. Stories have been told. Everyone wants to see for themselves. Now Jesus is speaking to his chosen ones (who are us). He gives them 4 ways to be blessed and then 4 warnings of what will happen if they (we) don’t follow his instructions.
Often, we only hear the “blessed are those.” That’s what stays with us. It’s a nicer read. Today, I invite us to focus on the woes. The warnings. It’s meant to disturb us, to make us aware of being too comfortable. Instead, Jesus is trying to wake us up.
Oddly enough, the people of that time believed the exact opposite. If you were wealthy, God was smiling on you. If you were poor, God was punishing you. Instead, Jesus was turning their world on its head, truly upside-down to what the people at that time understood. Jesus was trying to shock the wealthy into doing more to help the poor and hungry. And that message is still needed for today.
We who are so self-sufficient, tend to rely on ourselves. We have found success in our independence. Most of us are guilty of believing we can make it on our own. Jesus wants us to be deeply connected with those who need us, those who haven’t had the same opportunities as we’ve had. There’s an important reminder that we all need each other. We are invited to remember what it was like to be without money, without food or shelter. Only then can our compassion help to guide us.
I remember when my brother died and how differently I felt for those whose loved one had died. Before David’s death, I really didn’t understand true, life-crushing grief. But now I do. It will be David’s 30-year anniversary of his death this coming Tuesday, February 15th. He will be dead for as long as he was alive. And I still miss him. Every time I’m with families, I honor David’s memory. Otherwise, I’m less effective, less authentic in my compassion. I believe this is what Jesus is trying to teach.
Today’s gospel reminds me of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. He is a Lebanese poet and philosopher who speaks about the human experience. In talking about joy and sorrow, he says:
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Jesus is telling us not to take our wealth, our blessings for granted. We need to be more reminded of this than the crowd that gathered around him on that day. Most of them knew poverty and sorrow, hunger and pain. We are the ones who need to hear the “woes.” We are the ones who can become complacent to those in need. Woe to you, if you don’t see and attend to those who hunger, those who are poor.
In our synodal discussion, we are helping to awaken those in power of what Jesus taught long ago. I believe our reflections are based on Jeremiah’s words: “Lost are those who trust immoral inclinations, who rely on power, greed, and envy, whose hearts turn away from God.” May we also live what we discern; not ever falling into pride as we seek to change the church. May our hearts be full of compassion for why those in power need their power so very much. How have they been hurt in life to become so reliant on their power and status?
Let us always remember how easy it is to point our finger of judgement towards others and forget the three fingers pointing back at ourselves. We are not innocent. We too want to be noticed and valued. Instead, let us try to connect with those we want to change and allow love to be our highest motivation. Then, our guide will truly be Jesus and his amazing love for all people, not our own selfish interests and understandings. Woe is a warning, and we must take heed.
Let this saying be our strongest guide: How we walk with the broken speaks louder than how we sit with the great.
How do you respond to the “woes” of Jesus in today’s gospel?
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time January 23, 2022 Nick Smith
Today’s readings direct our attention to the liberating power of the Word of God, to listen, to accept, and then put the message into practice as we live our lives, freeing ourselves and others to be members of God’s kin-dom. It is through the Word of God that God becomes present in our midst, liberating us to make new beginnings with new outlooks and with new hope.
In the first reading, after King Darius of Babylon [Persia] allowed the Israelites to continue rebuilding the temple, Ezra leads the people in a “Covenant renewal” ceremony by reading and interpreting the Law. After hearing the laws of the Festival of Booths [Sukkot], the people changed their ways and began a new life of Shabbat observance. The Torah became the living Word of power, grace, and forgiveness for these exiles. He evoked a dramatic response from the people.
In our second reading from Martin Luther King’s “I Have Been to the Mountain Top,” we hear him state that he “just wanted to do God’s will.” King’s central influence in the fight for the liberation of Black people was Jesus the Christ and the truths of the gospels. Consumed with what he called Jesus’ “extremist” love, King had metaphorically “been to the mountain top” and, like Moses, had peered at what the kin-dom of God might be in the future. He evoked a dramatic response from the people.
The Gospel describes Jesus’ inaugural address to the people in the synagogue of Nazareth, his hometown. Reading what Isaiah had proclaimed about the coming Messiah and his mission. Jesus proclaims that He is the One sent “to bring glad tidings to the poor, liberation to captives, recovery of sight to the blind and freedom for the oppressed.” Jesus’ mission is to liberate everyone who will listen to the good news of God, accept it, and put it into practice. Jesus claims that his messianic mission is similar to the mission given to Moses in Exodus, and that His agenda is to extend to all places where the gospel will be heard and understood. He evoked a dramatic response from the people.
There was no government, no company, no agency, and no religion endorsing the messages of Jesus, King, or Ezra. They had no political status, no party endorsement, no approval by the establishment, and no mandate from the people to create any change whatsoever. Everything they accomplished was done through the same resources that are available to you and me—the true of God. Their legacy, and their truths are secure, established by the actions of the believers that came after them, but what about us? What about our legacy and our truth? Will we follow the true teachings of Jesus; will we renew the faith of our people; will we fight for justice and equality?
How can we promote the Word of God to create changes in our world? Jesus made this promise to His disciples: “I will ask God, and God will give you another Counselor to be with you forever—the Spirit of truth…. It lives with you and will be in you” (Jn 14:16-17). We need to allow the spirit of Sophia Wisdom to fill us and be prepared to have miracles done through us. We need to receive God’s Word, live it, and pass it on to others much like Ezra, King and Jesus did. Although they may be less spectacular than the ones Jesus performed, miracles occur every day through human instruments like us.
I’ve seen miracles happen individually from members of this faith community. I have witnessed many of your efforts to use the love of God to make change in the lives of others. I have seen you fight for justice and equality and dignity for all people. I have witnessed your kindness to the less fortunate, promoting love and assistance, rather than fear and avoidance. I am impressed by your willingness to participate through the Holy Spirit in the Roman Catholic synod in the hope of a faith renewal in the Church.
You are the human instruments who create the true miracles of life. All of you continually renew your faith through God’s living Word of power, grace, and forgiveness. You have been to the mountain top, peered over and seen the promised land. You live the mission of Jesus to liberate everyone who will listen to the good news of God, accept it, and put it into practice. You are the Spirit-filled instruments of God’s saving grace. It is you who evoke a dramatic response from the people.
Communion Reflection
December 12, 2021
In today’s gospel, two women meet in an extraordinary moment: two women—one old, one young—both pregnant with prophets. Their fetuses recognize each other in a leap of joy. In that instant, Elizabeth is filled with the same Holy Spirit as her relative Mary; thus, the coming of the Holy Spirit in the upper room in Jerusalem after Jesus’ resurrection had already begun at Ein Karem in Judah.
Luke’s continues with Elizabeth’s response, which utters a triple blessing upon womanhood: 1) Blessed are you among women 2) Blesses is the fruit of your womb 3) Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by God. Just as significant is the fact that these are village women, of no significant estate.
This is, by any measure, a profound break from patriarchal mores and the male domination of narratives. In Luke, it is women who recognize the blessing, mystery, and conspiracy of life. Which is why they are God’s preferred vessels to get the most important things done. They are without men [Zachariah and Joseph] who doubted God’s word. They live in an ancient culture in which coercive control of female sexuality was a primary measure of masculine honor, yet they both rejoice in the grittiness of life on the margins and in the resilient hope of those who trust in God.
What does Advent mean for the real world? Mary had some thoughts on that. Mary's courageous song of praise—the Magnificat—is a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. The first part of Mary’s song is personal: She has been recognized. As a servant girl, she is as astonished as the reader. It is still extraordinary that God works through the least, unnoticed by all those whose gaze is preoccupied by the Caesars and Pilates, the Herod’s, and high priests of the world. No single aspect of the gospel perspective is more essential: history is not transformed at the center, but at the margins, and in this story, among poor women.
The second part of the Magnificat is about God demonstrating extraordinary strength—which is ironic and profound, given who God has chosen. This alternative power, ignored by the “proud,” seems mysteriously lodged in oppressed women giving birth in the face of empire.
The next verses are the most subversive in the whole biblical tradition and make it clear that scripture is not shy about envisioning radical social leveling: God has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted the lowly; filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty. God has helped her servant Israel, in remembrance of her mercy, according to the promise God made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” This double promise is social (justice to the poor) and political (Yahweh’s faithfulness to the people of Israel).
It is worth noting that the last word in Luke’s Christmas story also belongs to a woman: the prophet Anna. She “continued to speak of Him to all those who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.”
Do we take Jesus’ coming into the world for granted or are we amazed, astounded, and filled with joy that our Lord Jesus came to earth as a small, fragile, baby boy? He was born to peasants, not royalty. He wanted to become one of us. He wanted to walk among us.
Today Jesus will come to us. He will come when we least expect him. He may come disguised as a friend or he may come to us in the helping hand of a stranger. Jesus simply will come in quiet and peace.
Be awake throughout this Advent season. You may encounter Jesus many times and others may meet Jesus through you. May we listen today to the most silenced voices among us, those of poor women, so we do not miss “God among us.”
Advent One: Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Luke 1:5-25
Advent is the beginning of the liturgical year; as such it defines why we bother to gather and do liturgy at all. Why meet? Why do ritual? Why believe in God at all? There are many lessons in today’s gospel that help unpack these questions and help us to reclaim and rename why we are here.
In our gospel, Zechariah and Elizabeth are finally blessed with news of a child. This is reminiscent of the OT story of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis. Same story, different family. We do that lovely spiral of spirituality where we repeat and remember. Oh, that’s right. God blessed an elderly couple with a child who changed the world. God is doing that again here. How wonderful. Let us rejoice.
Did you notice a few important details? Zechariah is a married priest. For two weeks out of the year, he has to go to Jerusalem and serve in the temple. He gets chosen for the privilege of lighting the incense in the tabernacle and there is where he has the vision from God. He learns that his wife will become pregnant and that this child will be special; will be the one who prepares the way for the Messiah. Pretty good.
This is really good news for Zechariah, but I want to point out what it means for Elizabeth. Before this, Elizabeth had to suffer the judgement of not being able to conceive for her entire adult life. It was always the woman’s fault for not being able to have a child. The man also suffered shame but secondarily. Now, Elizabeth would be honored, cherished—and she would have a child, a legacy for her forevermore.
Zecharia doubts that this pronouncement can be true. How can this be? It must seem impossible, even for a priest. It’s been a long time. Hope must’ve ended a long time ago. But now, instead of readily believing, Zechariah expressed doubt. And so, he is struck mute. Not until the actual birth and circumcision of baby John can Zechariah speak. This could’ve meant that Elizabeth had more power than usual. As our intro to Advent commentary says, “This leaves room for women’s unmuted voices.” Our voice conveys our power. It must’ve been very different to hear Elizabeth’s voice in the household and out in the fields. Without a voice, Zechariah may have needed Elizabeth’s help. Imagine that. And this may well be the reason why, in the traditional lectionary, Elizabeth is never mentioned. Women’s voices and their stories are hidden and avoided which, in turn, minimized their significance in the Jesus story. RCWP works to uplift these unheard stories and to rewrite history more authentically.
When Zechariah speaks after the birth of his son, John, his first words are words of praise. Zechariah has had lots of time, nine months to ponder how to respond to God. His response is known as Zechariah’s canticle. It goes like this: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably upon his people and redeemed them.” It remind us of God’s love and favor upon us. Yes, us. We are the ones who have chosen to remember and celebrate God’s actions down through the ages. God’s promises of care and concern both in the past and in our current times. We gather and affirm that God can be trusted, even when all seems lost.
Here we are again, at the beginning of a new year of faith, journeying through life’s trial and celebrations. We choose to make God part of that process. God’s grace has gotten us this far and we choose to share that good news with the world. Our beliefs inspire us to reach beyond ourselves to those in need, to help change the world for good. And now, we begin to anticipate the story of another child, one who will teach us how to change the world. Jesus is coming, being birthed by a young woman who said yes. Radical. God starts with a woman who is on the margins, not even married yet! She is faithful. Mary is a woman we emulate. We hope to have the depth of her faith that would immediately cause us to say yes to our next risk. God will be with us whenever we risk for love. Jesus is coming and we anticipate the promise.
As a final note, I wanted to share with you something my son David shared with me. Jon Batiste is a musician who was just nominated for eleven Grammy’s. He’s Steven Colbert’s band leader and that’s the way I’ve always known him. But now, he is coming into his own. David played me one of his songs entitled, “We Are.” Here are some of the lyrics:
The ghetto is full of stars
Watch them shine from afar
On days when it's hard
And always. We are, we are, we are, we are the golden ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the chosen ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the chosen ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the golden ones
We're never alone, no, no
We're never alone. We are the chosen ones.
It’s no irony that this musician’s name reminds us of John the Baptist, right? He just might be our modern-day prophet, reminding us of God’s faithfulness. We are the chosen ones. Jon Batiste is certainly referring to his own people, African Americans, who have carried the burden of remaining hopeful amidst great suffering and pain. But he’s not being exclusive—we are all the chosen ones. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones.
And I believe that this is our message for Advent and throughout the year. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones. Just like Abraham and Sarah, Zechariah and Elizabeth. We are the chosen ones to share the good news that God is faithful. God has promised us life beyond death and darkness. God has promised that all are welcome, all are chosen. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones. God has chosen all of us to be one.
33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time November 14, 2021
Gospel: Mark 13: 1 - 32 by Nick Smith
In today’s Readings our attention is directed to matters related to the end of the world. We are encouraged to pay attention to what’s going on around us and to be prepared to be accountable to God for our choices, individually and as a human family. Other biblical readings often include “the Signs of Armageddon” warning us about false teachers, wars and insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes, famines and plagues, deterioration of families, and hatefulness. Human accountability to God at the End of the World is a familiar biblical theme. Many believe that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have already been unleashed. These beings ride out on white, red, black, and green [pale] horses causing destruction, chaos, and death upon the earth.
These readings reminded me of two of my favorite quotes from literature. The first, from Macbeth by William Shakespeare, is spoken by Macbeth after learning that his wife, Lady Macbeth, is dead: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
The second quote comes from the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens where he characterizes his time with these words: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Perhaps Dickens and Shakespeare’s characterization is relevant for us today. Read the paper, listen to the radio, or watch a television newscast. Disaster is all around us—floods, storms, fires, derechos, riots, wars, hurricanes, covid 19, terrorism, ISIS, murder, droughts, pollution, falsehoods—the list goes on and on. It is easy for us to conclude that gloomy biblical “Signs of the End” typify our human condition. What can we do about the perennial bad news that permeates our everyday lives? Are our efforts merely sound and fury, signifying nothing? Are we truly tossed between a spring of hope and a winter of despair?
I’m not suggesting that we throw up our hands and give up when it comes to our collective world ills. I believe that we should rise up and develop remedies in both private and public sectors that require our institutions to transfigure dehumanizing processes into honorable and Godly enterprises. The Roman Catholic Synod is a good starting place in attempting a change—a reform—to dehumanizing institutions. Saying you’re a Catholic Christian is not enough.
So, rather than accept the trials and turbulations of our personal and communal life as inevitable, we should do something. Rather than simply hope that “somebody will do something,” we should do something. We know that most of us suffer our own injustices: our personal derechos, including family and friendship crisis, money worries, illness, and family loss. Yes, despair and darkness—biblical “signs of the end”—have afflicted many nations; but also, many individuals. So many people have learned to view live with a pessimistic eye.
What I dislike are the modern-day prophets who smile and simply pretend that there is no darkness in our world. They suggest that if we follow “their way” life will be great, and all our cares and concerns will melt away. Bah Humbug, [another Dickens quote] I say. The gospel of Jesus the Christ acknowledges the darkness. Jesus experienced human darkness in all its forms from His birth to His death. He was persecuted, ridiculed, humiliated, and executed. He was economically poor; and yet, immensely rich. He was crucified; and yet, even overcame that! He experienced darkness; and yet, His life and ministry revealed the light amid the evils of His time.
Rather than succumbing to “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” we should look to the hope and light of Jesus Christ. To those who accept Jesus’ invitation to true life, there is hope among woeful realities. In Jesus, each day becomes a new light in our lives, not a day closer to Armageddon. The current ups and downs may offer us small and sometimes exceptional occasions to grow in faith and wisdom and share in affection for one another.
We can choose to walk in the light of “the way” established by Jesus, or we can choose to give in to hopeless darkness, living unproductively on the sidelines waiting for the end. We can accept today’s defects in the world, or we can use them as motivators to transfigure our institutions and ourselves. God will hold us accountable for our responses; in the end God’s will shall be done. Along the way, as we struggle for righteousness, we can endure, and we will overcome!
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time October 28, 2021
Mark 10: 46-52 By Nick Smith
In Jesus’ time, the blind, together with cripples and lepers, were outcasts of society and kept quarantined outside the city limits. In the eyes of the ancient Hebrews the maimed, and especially the blind, were thought to possess a debased character because of the prevailing notion that bodily defects were a punishment for sins they committed or the sins of their parents. People afflicted with physical ailments were treated as outcasts and marginalized as persons outside of the society.
How does Jesus interact with the outcasts of his time? In today’s gospel, Jesus, his professed followers, and a bunch of other people come across Bartimaeus as they are leaving the city. He is blind. He has no way to make a living beyond begging, given his physical captivity. He is “hidden” in plain sight, a normal, accepted, if tragic part of the city’s landscape. You might recall that Jesus healed one blind man as he entered Jericho, then last week, as Jesus and the disciples passed through the city, James and John asked to be seated on Jesus’ right and left when he came into his glory. In each case, Jesus attempts to explain to his inner core of followers just what the kin-dom of heaven is like and what is about to happen for the salvation of the world. No one seems to understand, so Jesus tries a third time to reveal “the way” to his followers.
Bartimaeus senses that real help might be near, so he takes a chance and makes a scene by calling out to Jesus. First, he calls him Jesus (from the Hebrew name, Joshua, meaning Liberator). Then he calls Jesus “Son of David;” that’s King David, the ruler of God’s people charged with the task of creating a just political and economic system for the people.
There is no justice, of course, without mercy, so Bartimaeus calls out for mercy. None is to be found. He is not just overlooked but is vehemently dismissed and told to shut up. Bartimaeus, with nothing left to lose, decides not to shut up this time but calls out a second time even louder. Jesus stops. He makes his disciples get involved by having them interact with the blind man. Bartimaeus can’t believe it — he throws off his cloak and springs up. Jesus directly asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”—the same question he asked James and John.
Look at what Bartimaeus wants—his sight. But notice the difference between what he wanted and what James and John wanted. He wants to be a fully accepted, respected member of society who is treated with dignity, a man eligible to enter the holy places, who belongs there without apology. James and John want power, importance, and authority in the coming Kin-dom of God. Bartimaeus simply wants to be a member. Thanks to Jesus; Bartimaeus is able to articulate his dream to someone who actually treats him as fully human. And when Bartimaeus does this, he participates in his own liberation, for Jesus declares, “Your faith has made you well.” James and John could have asked for the same sight – or insight - into Jesus’ coming Kin-dom, but they do not; in fact, not one of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples ever asks for clarification or insight. They are not “liberated” in their understanding until after Jesus has risen from the dead.
I can’t help but wonder if it was the listening, the understanding, and the interaction that honored the human dignity of Bartimaeus that brought healing. Jesus doesn’t even touch him. Bartimaeus’ eyes are opened, and he becomes a true follower of “the Way.” Jesus treats Bartimaeus in a just way—with compassion, dignity, and love.
With Bartimaeus’ story in my mind, I am struck by the many connections to today’s world and today’s marginalized people. No one wishes to be marginalized any more than they wish to be a blind beggar. Does today’s gospel insinuate that even if we can’t fix all the problems within our society, it’s still worth stopping to help one person? Is there room for both helping an individual and critiquing and reforming an entire social system that sees no incentive in investing in the marginalized? Is this text calling us to do something even in a small way to help the marginalized of our society?
Once Bartimaeus is healed, he follows Jesus. It would appear that Bartimaeus joined in on the healing ministry of Jesus and became another bearer of good news—the last disciple.
If we want to be agents of good news too, we will need to relate to other people in a just way. Do we participate in exploiting our neighbor, even in small, seeming insignificant ways, or do we do what we can to assist those outside the mainstream of our world?
This gospel reveals the ethical interaction we should have with others—following Jesus-style:
Seek the good of the other person first, not your own selfish satisfaction
Engage the other with the deepest respect for their human dignity
Get involved
Get others involved
Liberate the other with compassion, dignity, and love.
We can certainly do this. What would it look like for us to interact with our neighbors in a way that is ethical? I think today’s gospel helps us see how Jesus interacted with and treated social outcasts. And I also feel that today’s gospel directs us to do an extremely easy thing when it comes to our faith and understanding of the Kin-dom—just ask. We should be like Bartimaeus and ask for what we truly need, not power, authority, or importance, but common human dignity and insight into “the way” of Jesus the Christ.
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time-October 10, 2021
Homily: Mark 10:17-31 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Today’s gospel is disturbing for those of us who live a life of being well-off. If it’s truly easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven, we’re in trouble. We’ve never known hunger or lack of shelter or risk of driving while black. Are we all doomed? Are we “unfit” for heaven? Before we believe that we are a lost cause, there are three important points to consider.
First, from this reading, we might assume that all those who are not rich are going to heaven; that, somehow, it’s easier for those without wealth to be heaven bound. That is not a given. So too, those of us who are rich are not automatically unable to get into heaven. Getting to heaven is not a clear path. We all strive to be good and loving towards others. Sometimes, it’s those closest to us that can be the most difficult to love. Love is complicated, full of risks and rarely a simple one act every now and then. Living a life of love is learned and challenged each step of the way. How we respond to these challenges reflects our heart and our hope.
Certainly, if we become complacent because of being rich, that is perhaps the worse way of living a life. I remember an animated movie called “Wall-e” where everything is so roboticized, so automated, that people simply lay in recliners and everything is brought to them. Talk about complacency. Possessions can bring joy and comfort—cars, A/C, our big screen TV. These are common assets that we often take for granted. The real question is, do these items prevent us from living with a passion for others who suffer? Do they isolate us from what is happening around us, especially to the cries of the poor? Realizing that we are truly blessed to be white, to live in privilege should cause us to reach out all the more to those in need. Our recent winter clothing drive might demonstrate this. What’s crucial to consider is what effect our possessions have on us. Do they make us proud? Self-righteous? Or humble and deeply grateful?
Secondly, I’ve always found it curious that we are taught do good deeds for the “points” we get in return. When we were young, many of us followed that point system. Whenever I helped someone, my true focus was on the reward I might get. It’s a very self-serving way of being in relationship; furthering my own path to heaven under the guise of being good and generous towards others. As adults, have we learned to do good despite the reward? Can we care less about what’s in it for us and more about how we might show compassion to those in need? Then, our acts of love are truly unconditional deeds that may transform our hearts and eventually, our world.
Third, those who are considered first on earth may, in faith, NOT be favored in heaven. Which makes me wonder, what is heaven? A reward station where everyone gets paid for what they’re worth? I don’t think so. We have only a limited way of understanding what’s next. Once, when I was working with pediatric kids who had cancer, a 4-year-old asked me about heaven. As I fumbled to find a way to explain it, he suddenly said, “You mean, like another dimension?” That very adult wording comes close to helping us appreciate that heaven is probably very different from our ideas of fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Heaven is the next step, the next dimension in growing to become a loving being. If that’s heaven, then, who’s first and who’s last are the wrong questions. We need to understand that the hereafter is not simply a reward station. That way of thinking may be motivating for children—the basic gold star, behavior modification program. For us adults, we should be able to see beyond such simplistic ways of thinking and behaving.
This past week, we watched Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a classic story—one where the main character, Tevia, talks to God throughout his day and often shouts, “Tradition” as justification for how things should be. When his three daughters challenge this, Tevia struggles to maintain a sense of identity without the usual traditions. He is so attached to his routine way of doing things that change causes him to question everything. Tevia believes that through hierarchical order, laws and tradition, we know who we are and “what God expects of us.” Would that it could be that simple!
Life and the afterlife are mysteries. We do our best to figure out these ambiguities and live a life in keeping with God’s creative effort. Often, in my work, I ask patients who are dying if they believe or hope in something next. Most all of them say that they do, some don’t. But the universal hope is to be reunited with loved ones, those who have died before them whom they long to see. There’s nothing about hierarchy, who’s first, what’s my reward. None of that. That’s because we are people driven, much more than reward driven. We are meant to engage and be in relationship with others. It makes sense that we hope that continues as part of “paradise.”
Perhaps the afterlife is a time when those who love us gather in a circle around us, to greet us and to help us review what our life has meant. No thrones or authorities to point fingers of judgement at us. Just a simple circle of love. And then, with God’s blessing, perhaps we take on new responsibilities. Maybe we are to help those suffering from guilt or loneliness, those who haven’t been able to learn how love works.
Today, I invite us to release fears of heaven and whether we are worthy to enter.Instead, try to name what your legacy is.What is your unique contribution to the world?How do you most hope to be remembered?That’s much more important than worrying about how good we’ve done and if we’ll get enough rewards after we die.Let’s focus more on caring for others regardless of how it benefits us. Then, we will change the world as we co-create with our loving God. Amen.
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time 9-26-21
God’s Gifts of Grace Nick Smith
Today’s readings center around the concept of grace-gifts from God, and “as each has received a gift,” we are to “use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” We are given these gifts for the progress and joy of one another’s faith. Our spiritual gifts enable us to effectively share God’s love with others and make our own unique contribution to God’s Kin-dom. These gifts are neither for you, nor about you. They are not given to bolster your self-image or to serve as a “special” reward from God because of your righteousness. They are not given to raise you up to some level of worldly greatness or success. No, they are yours for the express purpose of building up the Kin-dom of heaven. They are not personality traits, natural talents, or fruits of the spirit; these are God’s contribution to our character, but our spiritual gifts are the contribution we make to God’s Kin-dom. So, what are spiritual gifts? They are a God-given special ability, given to every believer, to share their love and to strengthen the body of Christ through service to each other.
First Reading: The brothers prayed
In the first reading, we have the fulfilment of God's word to Moses, that he should have help in the government of Israel. God gave the Holy Spirit to the seventy elders. They discoursed to the people of the things of God, so that all who heard them might say, that God was truly with them.
Two of the elders [Eldad and Medad, Moses’ half-brothers] were not selected in the lottery, but the Spirit of God found them, and they exercised their gift of prayer, preaching, and praising God; they spoke as moved by the Spirit. Joshua wants Eldad and Medad silenced from their prophesying, but Moses stops him, saying that we should not reject those whom God has chosen, or restrain any from doing good, because they are not in everything of our minds. Moses wishes that all of God’s people were prophets, that God would place the Spirit within every person.
Second Reding: God’s people pray for grace-gifts
In the second reading, Paul explains that all believers are given some gift of grace for the mutual help of the whole—the Church. These gifts are given to improve the situation and spiritual good of others. Here Paul lists five different spiritual gifts bestowed by Christ for the good of the church—Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers. Apostles and Prophets have a foundational role in receiving and proclaiming the mystery of Jesus Christ. Evangelists are the church establishers. Pastors lead the church in day-to-day activities, and Teachers teach the word of God. These gifts are to benefit the church in its growth and maturity. Paul says that Christ gave these gifts to equip his people for works of service.
Every single believer in Jesus Christ has been given a gift for ministry (that's point one). Every church should have Christian leaders (that's part two). But their job isn't to do the ministry. It's to equip all the people in the church to do the work of ministry. That's part three. Paul said it perfectly in verse 16: the church will grow and build itself up in love "as each part does its work." The way that Paul says we will grow into maturity as a church is by tapping into the gospel, putting Christian leaders into place, and then allowing them to equip – to make sufficient and adequate – the believers for ministry.
Gospel Reading: Pray for God’s help
In today’s gospel reading, while Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James and John being transfigured, a man brought his son, who was possessed by a mute spirit. The man had asked Jesus’ disciples to drive the spirit out, but the men were unable to do so. When Jesus heard this, he said, “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you”? He then told the father to bring his son to Him. When the spirits saw Jesus, they immediately threw the boy into convulsions. The child fell to the ground, and he began to foam at the mouth. Jesus asked the father some questions about his son. Finally, the father said to Jesus: “If you can do anything, please have compassion on us. Please help him!” Jesus quietly said to the father, “’If you can!’ Everything is possible to those who have faith.” The father immediately cried out: “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Much to the crowd’s amazement, Jesus drew the unclean spirit out of the boy and pulled the boy to his feet.
The disciples had seen Jesus cast out demons. So, they gave it a shot. They may have uttered some words. They may have thought if they said the right thing in the right way the demon would come out. In other words, they tried magic. The scribes were successful in taunting them into doing something. And of course, they failed. The scribes then used that to say, “See Jesus is a fraud.” And an argument ensued. When the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”
Conclusions: Pray for God’s will
Our nature does not change. We behave the same today as the people in the first century did. When we, or someone we know, experience a tragedy we try to help. We remember the words from the gospel of John, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in me. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
So, prayer must be the magic formula. To make things go our way, we have to learn how to pray. We are told to pray in Jesus’ name. (John 14:13) So, when we pray, we say, “in the name of Jesus,” like that was a magic phrase. When that does not make God obey us, we conclude we need to pray more. We need to pray harder
If that does not work, there must be something wrong in our lives. We try to be better. We try to do better, as if our behavior was a magical force. We treat our good behavior as a debt God must reward. When that does not work, we conclude we are missing the secret. When nothing works, we hold Christ up to ridicule. “See Christianity does not work. Christ is a fraud.”
Do you want to know the secret? Here it is. There is no secret. The demon obeyed Christ because of Christ’s authority. You don’t have any. When Christ said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.” He was saying, “Only God can do it. Pray to God and turn it over to God. The demons obey God, not you.” God is in charge. You are not. The problem with the disciples was that their faith was too little—the kind that trusts God when everything is going well. This is a faith that thrives because there is good health, wealth, and prosperity. It is easy to trust God when life is going well, but the true mark of faith is what happens when things are going wrong, your efforts fail, adversity rises, and tragedy strikes. How one responds is the true mark of faith.
Jesus’ promise that “nothing shall be impossible for you,” is not an open invitation for you to get whatever you want. Faith and prayer are always restricted to only that which is in the framework of God’s will, for that is the very nature of the faith as a mustard seed that Jesus is describing. Faith in itself can accomplish nothing. Faith must be in the proper object. It is the God in whom the faith is grounded that accomplishes the work.
The disciples wondered why they failed. Christ does not attribute their inability to unbelief. Nor does He say, God will give us everything we mention in prayer. Nothing is more at odds with faith than the foolish desires of our hearts.
Janis Joplin-Mercedes Benz(original) - YouTube
Janis Joplin
"Mercedes Benz"
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
That’s it.
Sept. 12, 2021 Homily (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Isaiah 50:4-9a
First Letter Peter 1:1b, 2-7d, 3:13-18
Mark: 8:27-37
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11. There were many commemorations, very moving stories of heroism and unity as a country. Where has all that gone? Here we are twenty years later, and we are so divided and angry. The flag used to represent unity. Now, it can make us cringe. How do we find a way forward?
In our first reading, Isaiah is speaking from the voice of the Messiah. This is one of the Servant Songs. In these, Isaiah tells us that the Messiah will suffer. There is strength and trust in this voice as it speaks truth to power. The Messiah stands firm amidst ridicule and suffering. We hear him say that “God is my helper, the One who Vindicates is near.” He stands and faces the enemy, certain that his fate is in God’s hands. It’s a voice that encourages us to trust as well, to not be afraid.
I still remember how fearful I was on that fateful day of 9/11. I happened to be at home in my bedroom, folding laundry on the bed and watching the news. As soon as I saw the plane hit the tower, I called Dave. He was working at the U and I told him to find a TV. Together we watched in horror. After both towers fell, I remember going to Hoover Elementary. I needed to see my boys; just to see them and make sure they were okay. There was no sense of trust. All Americans seemed at risk. We were united in our vulnerability.
In our second reading, Peter is writing to the early Christians to encourage them. This is during the time of the Dispersion, when Jews had to leave Palestine and live among the Gentiles. They must have been fearful. But, Peter offer encouragement. He tells them to “always be ready to explain the cause of their hope.” I can’t imagine doing that. I remember one 9/11 survivor saying that he was under the only desk that withstood destruction with his Bible on top. That’s its own form of evangelization. My license plate does some of that. It says “Womanpriest” but I never know what message is received. Peter is talking about real courage; the kind that challenges others, face to face. I’m much less ready for that.
And then we have Jesus in the Gospel, questioning the disciples. “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter gets it right. “You are the Christ.” This is a major declaration, one that earns him praise, since Jesus is pleased that they do get it. Perhaps they do understand who I am, he might’ve thought. But not for long.
For Peter, as for most of the disciples, wanted the Christ, the Messiah, to mean immediate military overthrow of the Romans, to mean that finally, the Jewish people would be in power. That longing to be on top would be achieved at last.
But Jesus knows differently. This gospel is the turning point. They leave Galilee and head towards Jerusalem. Jesus will confront those in power directly. His teachings will enrage and provoke them. They want their power. They enjoy having more in life, recognition, the Law, authority. Jesus tries to prepare the disciples.
But Peter reacts—strongly. No. Not you! Peter is now giving correction to Jesus whom he has just called Messiah. It’s a true affront, an insult. And, it makes Jesus is really angry. “Who are you to tell me what my path should be? Who are you to think you understand better than I do?” Jesus was hoping his disciples might recognize the role of suffering. But they don’t. They don’t want more suffering. They don’t want a leader who will be killed. And can you blame them? Who wants to die for their faith?
Suddenly, Jesus calls Peter, Satan. Peter goes from top disciple to Satan in one fell swoop. How disheartening. Such a confusing thing for this group of humans. “We found the Messiah! But he tells us the only way to WIN is to suffer and die. How is that a win?” Jesus is asking the disciples to trust him for a greater WIN—eternal life. That’s a tough concept for those living 2,000 years ago.
We have the benefit of being able to discern and ponder what Jesus has been teaching. We understand and trust that love IS the path, the only true path. We also understand the trappings of power. Most of us have learned that we continue to love, even when we’ve been hurt by our loved ones. That is so difficult, but we know to choose relationship over being “right.” This is the counter-intuitive nature of Jesus’ message—it’s not logical at all.
And yet, even with 2,000 years of learning, we too find it difficult to suffer for the right reason. Underlying today’s readings is a call to have courage. That’s not something I pray for much. I have confidence but do I have courage, the kind of courage to really talk and act on my faith?
Many stories from 9/11 are about self-sacrifice for the lives of others. Many NY police and firefighters gave their lives to help save others. They showed how these brave men and women were driving towards the Towers, not away from them, even after the North Tower fell. I have deep respect for that kind of love and service. Perhaps we can ask ourselves, Do we move towards situations that may require suffering for others or away from them?
We are privileged to have freedom of religion here in America so this is more challenging to ponder. What does our faith call us to do? How can we be courageous because of our faith? Peter says, “We now have an inheritance that cannot fail.” We do believe in eternal life. Is that enough? ________________________________________________________
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time August 22, 2021
Homily Nick Smith
I think this is the third time I’ve given a homily concerning the interaction between Jesus and a Canaanite [Syrophnician] woman. I think I’ve talked about both Mark and Matthew’s retelling of the story. As you know, this is the story where Jesus calls this woman a “Dog.”
Jesus has been preaching in Galilee and has been getting mobbed by the people after John the Baptist’s death. Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to see what’s going on, and they get into a heated debate with Jesus over washing hands before eating. So, Jesus decides to take a beach vacation to the Gentile city of Tyre. Somehow this Gentile woman of another ethnicity finds Jesus and asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him “Lord” and “Son of David.” Jesus straight up ignores her. Her cries must have been obnoxious because Jesus’ disciples ask him to send her away. Jesus replies to them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She knelt before him and asked for help. He replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Her response: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Because of her strong argument and great faith, her daughter was healed.
The woman is focused on her end goal: getting help for her daughter. She doesn’t allow offensive behavior or words to derail her from this goal. The woman gives Jesus a strong argument to heal her daughter, and the daughter is healed.
The woman is an example of “love your enemies, bless them that curse you.”
The reason this story really resonates with me is the amazing example of this woman. She owned her desire for a blessing. She was determined. She was not intimidated by the voice of authority telling her no. She advocated for her daughter. And she did all this while still being incredibly humble. I particularly love how she cleverly retold and expanded Jesus’ parable of the dogs and the children: she used the retelling to give herself a seat at the table (even if it was under the table, with the expectation of scraps.) The way she shifted the perspective of the story provided a strong argument for healing her daughter.
On the other hand, this is a challenging scripture story because Jesus seems to show up on the “wrong” side of His own preaching. The answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?” generally does not include ignoring or belittling people. There are all sorts of explanations of Jesus’ behavior. Maybe he was testing her faith. Maybe he was testing his disciples to see if they thought he should break the mission rules and minister to someone who was not of “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Or maybe the human side of Jesus was still learning. Perhaps Jesus had yet to comprehend the full extent of his ministry. Perhaps he was still learning to see his own prejudice. I don’t know. Initially, the premise that Jesus could have been prejudiced made me uncomfortable but choosing to frame the story with this premise has helped me understand it in new ways.
It is not as easy for me to identify with Jesus in this story. There are so many questions I have about the motivations behind his actions. At some point though, I realized that if I want something in the church structure to change, I must join people who are willing to follow Jesus’ example in this story—people who are willing to change. If we assume that Jesus was prejudiced against the woman but was then willing to listen to her and change how he acted toward her, he shows personal growth and learning. I wonder, though, if we suppose that Jesus was ignorant of his prejudice against this woman until this moment, can it be counted as a change? Perhaps it should be counted as an awakening—one of those aha moments of sudden insight and discovery. Jesus does open his ministry to the gentiles right after this incident by feeding 4000 of them.
This actually gives me a good deal of hope, because I am still learning. I am still finding many parts of my mind that are ignorant and uninformed (not for lack of trying). And I hope I can change course as thoroughly and gracefully as Jesus did. Framing the story as one in which Jesus experiences growth humanizes him so that I can try to follow his example. This story then becomes a wonderful model of “when I know better, I do better.” Jesus didn’t just “do better” in this story, he continued to “do better” afterward.
I was reading a blog the other day explaining the earth’s ecosystem. On this planet there exist these biomes, where only one kind of ecosystem can thrive—grasslands, forests, terrestrial, deserts, aquatic, or something else. At the edges, called ecotones, are a diversity of species that cannot exists within the biomes. And while biomes are certainly very productive in nature, they are also fragile as they can be destroyed if a new species is introduced. The ecotones on the other hand are more flexible because of their diversity. The ecotones act as a region of transition between two habitats and are often richer in species than either ecosystem. A common example would be an area of marshland between a river and its riverbank.
Because of the gendered nature of organizational and ritual authority in the Roman Catholic Church, Catholicism is a male ecosystem, a monoculture that allows only men to thrive. I don’t believe the intent was to oppress women but to build up men; however, the effect of keeping women [and others] separated by placing them under the direction of the priesthood and the church hierarchy has been to lessen responsibility and opportunity for women.
This all-male ecosystem has a profound effect on women, however individual women respond to it. Women are forced to understand themselves from a man’s point of view. Within this monoculture, differing points of view become politicized into the “in group” or the “out group.” In other words, if you are a woman who thinks there are problems with the way women are treated in the Catholic Church, you are a faithless troublemaker, and if you are a woman that thinks there are no problems with the way that women are treated in the Church, you are pronounced to be righteous.
When an organization operates in a binary or monocultural mode, its framework excludes everyone who disagrees with it. The disagreements, however, do not necessarily stem from differences in belief, but differences in lived experiences and the way we negotiate those experiences with Church teaching and dogma. The Roman Catholic hierarchy looks at an ecosystem that was designed to help them thrive, and if they thrive, they see the ecosystem as divine—the way God ordained it. I look at the way this system benefits men at the expense of women and I have a difficult time seeing it as a reflection of God’s will. To create a church where leaders listen, acknowledge, and make space for everyone, including women, we need to transition away from the male monoculture. We should not fear women and men thriving together in a church with greater biodiversity
Sources
Malan, Paul. “Wetlands: The Future of Mormonism.” Medium. Accessed March 6, 2015. https://medium.com/@ungewissen/wetlandsthefutureofmormonismf1c1b3b62256.
Kaylee, Guest Post: “The Syrophoenician Woman is My Hero.” Medium. Accessed August 18, 2021. https://www.the-exponent.com/guest-post-the-syrophoenician-woman-is-my-hero/
Aug. 8, 2021
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Second Reading: Taken from “Walking on Water” by Madeleine L’Engle
We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all the answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.
Unamuno might be describing the artist as well as the Christian as he writes, "Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
The Words of a Wise Woman
Thanks be to God
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:45-52
Homily: Walking on Water
The amazing thing about scripture is that it has layers of meaning. One verse can be viewed in many different ways, depending on the author, the context and new findings that change the understanding of that verse.
Today, we are focusing on the theme of water, walking on water, to be specific. We are 60% water. Up to 60% of the human adult body is water. Our brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. We are dependent on water for our very existence. And yet, in water, we are vulnerable. We cannot walk on water. We cannot breathe under water. So, water is both a threat and a necessity.
As we know, water is fast becoming a commodity that will be bought and sold in our lifetime. We take it so for granted, leaving the faucet on while brushing our teeth or rinsing the dishes or watering the yard. Water is essential to life. So, it is no coincidence that today’s Gospel is meant to teach us many lessons.
First of all, we remember our Gospel readings during the past week when we witnessed Jesus feed the multitudes, either truly multiplying loaves and fishes or by his gesture of love, encouraging the people to share their food with one another.
Today, Jesus sends the disciples into the boat to get to another town. He is the one to disperse the crowd and then goes off by himself to pray. Meanwhile, the disciples are wrestling with the sea. A mighty storm has come upon them, and they are battling the waves. It is noted that the Sea of Galilee gets very rough very easily. Winds come off the north and within minutes can stir up a horrible storm.
It has been estimated that the disciples were rowing for over nine hours. How do we know this? It’s because of the “watch” that is referred to in our reading. The watch is a period of time when one man was designated to stay awake and watch for any dangers during the night. Wolves, bandits, bad weather were constant threats. With a watchman, the others could sleep without worry or concern. A typical Jewish watch was only measured in three sessions: sunset to 10pm, then 10pm to 2am, then 2am to sunrise. Three 4-hour sessions. But after Roman rule, the watch was changed to four sessions. Sunset to 9pm, 9pm to midnight, midnight to 3am and 3am to sunrise. So, when Mark writes that it was the fourth watch of the night, we know it is within that 3am to 6am timeframe. The disciples must’ve been exhausted and greatly frustrated, fearful for their lives.
Such is life during times of crisis and chaos. We don’t know how much more we can take. Just when we think the waves might calm and we begin to hope, another wind comes up to crash the sea against our boat. Will we have the strength to survive?
During this 9-hour time-period, the disciples had rowed only about three miles. The Sea of Galilee is no more than six miles across at its widest spot. They were now in the middle of the sea. How discouraging. We know what that’s like. When we are battling a crisis and we have no way of knowing how much longer we will have to endure. We become very discouraged.
So, Jesus goes out to them. I’ve always thought he went directly to the boat and calmed the sea. This is the first time I’ve noticed that very strange verse that says, “he meant to pass by them.” What? Why would he go past them? No wonder they think he is a ghost, meant to scare and do harm to them.
Only when the disciples cry out does Jesus respond. Isn’t that curious? Does it mean, we need to ask for help? Do we need to acknowledge we cannot go it alone, that the chaos of life is just too much for us? Does Jesus want us to ask for assistance, especially at our most frightened? They say that there are no atheists in fox holes. We all want to believe in God when our lives are at risk and death seems certain. And maybe that’s just what it means to be human. We want to rely on ourselves—until we realize that we truly do need help.
Jesus never imposes himself on us. He wants us to freely choose how we will live our lives. Jesus can be with us during times of crisis, but only if we are willing to allow for this. Perhaps that’s the good and the bad of free-will. Our ego can get in the way of humility until we are forced to surrender.
It says “At once” Jesus reassures them. Immediately, Jesus responds when he hears their cries. And he offers words of comfort: “Take courage. It is I.” “It’s me,” he’s saying, the one you know and love. He climbs into the boat, and all is well. Finally. The disciples must’ve been wondering what took him so long. Where have you been? Haven’t you seen that we were in trouble? But it was dark. Perhaps Jesus was deep in prayer, and it wasn’t until he ended his prayer that he felt something was wrong. Afterall, he walks out to the middle of the sea to help them. I wonder how long it took to walk three miles when you’re walking on water. Are you floating without effort? Clearly, it’s a mystical experience but one that lives in our culture. Walking on water is the epitome of being supernatural. None of us can do it. Even Peter tried and failed. (Mark doesn’t talk about Peter in this gospel. He’s not a fan of Peter so he rarely mentions him.)
In our second reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she says that we live by revelation. She tells us to never become smug, thinking we know all the answers. Otherwise, we forget to question. And questioning is the way of faith. As youngsters, we were taught to never question. What good did that do? It led us to remain as children in our faith. We need to question and wonder and imagine. That enlivens our faith and helps us to grow.
So, as we ponder simple verses that are not simple at all, once we unpack them, let us marvel at the power of scripture to cause us to wonder, to put ourselves in the shoes/sandals of the disciples, to imagine what it was like to be in that boat—the fear and desperation. And then, crying out, to feel the huge relief to hear Jesus’ voice that says, “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”
Before this, the disciples’ hearts had been hardened. I wonder if they were softened by this event. Clearly, they could not deny the experience of being so lost and terrified. And then of how Jesus rescued them from the Sea.
Richard Neill Donovan, a theologian, writes that, “Jesus came to the disciples when the light was most needed and with his coming and self-revelation came the dawn. The dying down of the wind confirms the power of Jesus over the powers of chaos.”
Some want to compare this to the end times. That the fourth watch is symbolizing the end of the world when Jesus comes to save us all. That seems a bit drastic but I get it. We all want the reassurance that death is not the end. We choose to believe that the resurrection awaits us. It’s what we as Christians maintain. Death, darkness, chaos is not the final word.
Let us anchor today’s gospel in our hearts as a reminder of God’s care for us. Life is difficult. It is our faith that helps to keep us afloat and alive.
Amen. Amen.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time: July 11, 2021
First Reading: Taken from Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen.
“Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”
The words of a spiritual writer and humble priest.
Thanks be to God.
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:7-13, 30-34
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
As you heard, we replaced our first reading with a reading on compassion. It’s written by Henri Nouwen, a beloved author of mine who was much like a mentor to me (unbeknownst to him). I chose this reading because it’s how our gospel ends, with Jesus showing compassion for the throngs of people who need his help. Yes, he needed rest, as did his disciples, but the needs of the people overrule. Compassion lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry.
My relationship with Henri Nouwen, as a reader of his works, was foundational to my theology and my spirituality. In the early 1980’s I first read Henri’s book, “With Open Hands” where he gives the very powerful image of living with open hands rather than clenched fists, always grasping for what we want, holding tightly onto control (which is the great illusion). It was the first time that I heard the Gospel through a spiritual author’s voice. And I was hooked. To this day, I’ve used that image of “open hands” with patients who are so anxious for what they want, what they need to have happen. Gently, I’ve opened my hands to invite them to try to be open to what will be, encouraging them to do the same. It’s such an easier way to live. But we humans need to learn the lesson again and again—and again.
The same is true of those in authority. Kings, queens, bosses, CEOs, even heads of household—all who have power often misuse it, to the detriment of all others. Which is probably why Jesus speaks about it so often. He is trying to encourage these leaders to use love and mercy as the basis of relationship with others, regardless of their position of power. When we have open hands, we have a readiness to give and receive—both essential when dealing with others. But for those in power, they often have anything but open hands! They rule with an iron fist, with little care for others. Our previous president loved his power. He may have to pay for that at some point. We can only hope that the justice system will work, eventually.
In our gospel today, Jesus is sending out his disciples to heal and preach the gospel. They go “two by two” which I believe is the foundation of Christianity. Christianity requires two. Unlike Buddhism or many other religions, being Christian means that you have to be in relationship with others. Some try to ignore this aspect of our faith but it’s almost impossible to practice being a Christian alone. Yes, we have our spiritual practices but even those are relational. Prayer is between God and us. It’s fostering a connection, an awareness that there is more than just me. Jesus wants his disciples to model this awareness so he sends them out, two by two. And there’s great benefit for this as well. There’s safety, there’s the ability to debrief about events and there’s the reliability of having a partner. Most importantly, in relationship, there’s the practice of compassion—how are you? How can I be of help? What do you need that I can provide to grow as a disciple of Jesus? Compassion is essential to ministry.
Yesterday, my husband Dave mentioned that he’s been listening to various soliloquies from Shakespeare. One begins with, “The quality of mercy is not strain’d…” and I’d never heard it. It’s from the Merchant of Venice and Portia is the wise woman who is trying to influence the judge in a courtroom. She is disguised as a man, of course, since it was believed that women could never be that wise. She speaks these words:
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice.
There it is. The power of mercy in the hands of the powerful. Portia is saying that mercy is such a lofty quality, that it is mightiest in the mightiest and becomes a king, better than his crown. She is encouraging the men, specifically, the merchant to think wisely and compassionately, rather than being so vengeful. Shakespeare understands that the priority is always putting the focus on care and concern for another. Compassion is a better word, I believe, but not much used in that time. Jesus has compassion for the people in need and places their needs over his own. In other translations, the word “pity” is used. That’s placing the recipient in a lower position. Compassion keeps the relationship level—meaning that to understand how another is feeling, to feel with them, then causes us to react, to respond in a way that demonstrates we get how they are feeling and we feel compelled to help, to be of service. That’s true compassion. And that’s the difference between empathy and compassion. Empathy is good; a feeling of care for another but it’s compassion that adds the element of service.
Shakespeare is a master of feeling and notes that mercy or compassion is an attribute “to God himself.” This reflects an understanding of God that is much deeper than simply the “all-powerful, almighty One.” Rather, it’s an element of care that emphasizes relationship. God cares enough to show mercy. Would that we could do the same to all others. This is why, at Full Circle, we try not to use words of hierarchy such as “Lord” and “almighty.” It’s an effort to shift the focus from the love of power to the power of love.
We are different than other faith communities. We are intentional in hearing the message of Jesus to live in love. Compassion is a core tenet which is why “following the rules” doesn’t always work for us. Let us try be aware when compassion is not the focus of decisions and laws. Jesus would want those laws changed or broken because they are not laws based in love but in power. Notice when that challenge is part of your life. We so want to be right, to win the argument, to convince. When done in love, there is the possibility for change. Only with open hands do we invite God to be part of the process for change. We open our hearts as we open our hands to how God can help to change the love of power to the power of love in our own lives. May compassion rule our lives as we seek to live as true Christians.
Amen.
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time June 27, 2021
The Richness of Life Nick Smith
On Thursday, June 24, 2021, an apartment building in the Surfside area of Miami, Florida, collapsed. The death toll has risen, and 159 people remain unaccounted for. When I first saw the pictures on TV, I was shocked. It’s a difficult thing to imagine—having the place where you live suddenly collapse upon you. I was shocked even more that evening.
I play in a two-man match play golf league on Thursday nights, and while waiting for my partner to arrive, I heard the following comments from some of the other golfers: “The CIA blew it up to kill the president of Venezuela. Just a bunch of welfare whores anyway. Those illegals come up here and then sneak in all their relatives. Serves them right. They got a better place to live then I do, and I work for a living. The whole place was full of illegal Mexicans living off my taxes—I don’t get no rent assistance.” There was a lot more said, but you get the picture. I bit my tongue until I couldn’t take it anymore. I basically told them that they were nuts and pretty darned heartless concerning all those poor souls caught in this tragedy, except I wasn’t very diplomatic about it. I do remember saying: “There but for the grace of God go I.” A couple of the guys just laughed, and one pointed out that I was the man with the bible golf balls—I mark my golf balls with Lk 15:32, which is the last line of the parable of the prodigal son: “This one was lost but now is found.” I’ve actually been troubled, upset and in a bad mood ever since. How could anyone be so callous toward other people?
This event reminded me of Jesus’ response to a collapsed building in his own time. In the gospel of Luke, chapter 13, some people told Jesus about a group of Galileans who had come to the temple to sacrifice, and Pontius Pilate slaughtered them. I don’t know the motivation for relating this story to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is interesting: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13: 2–3). Jesus continues the conversation by mentioning another event, this one involving the tower of Siloam: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:4–5).
In commenting on the fall of the tower of Siloam, Jesus negates four assumptions that people often make: Suffering is proportional to sinfulness, tragedy is a sure sign of God’s judgment, bad things happen only to bad people, and we have the right to make such judgments. To each of these assumptions, Jesus says, no. When we see a tragedy, we should resist the temptation to assign guilt to the victims, as if they had received God’s judgment. Rather, Jesus asks us to look within ourselves and take the tragedy as an opportunity for self-examination, not an occasion for blame.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I should probably turn to today’s readings. They collectively demonstrate God’s plan for us. God wants us to experience life in all its richness and fullness. God desires that we live. Death is not the primary plan for people. True life is experienced when we put our trust and faith in God.
In the First Reading, the Wisdom writer reminds us that God created us for Life, imperishable. We are made infinite, in the image of God’s own nature. The Book of Wisdom proclaims that it is God’s will that we live forever. That is the way God planned it from the very beginning. “God created all things that they might be, that they might live. The generative forces of the world are wholesome; there is no poison in them. The dominion of Hades is not on earth, for justice is undying.”
God wants us to be happy. God desires that we share in the richness and fullness of life. This is, and always has been, God’s plan for us. Paul writes to the people of Corinth informing them that God’s plan, through Jesus, is that we all share in the richness of divine life by sharing what earthly wealth we have with those who have less, experiencing the richness of God. Paul wants the people of Corinth to continue to experience the graciousness of God as manifested in the fullness of life which they receive in and through the ministry of Jesus. They have truly been blessed with the richness of divine life. God, through Jesus, has allowed them to receive the greatest gifts of God, not because they deserve it, but because God is richly gracious. The response to the wealth of graces they have received from God, through the acts of Jesus, is that they must share not only their spiritual richness but even their physical wealth, particularly with those who do not have as much.
In today’s gospel, the story of the hemorrhaging woman is sandwiched between two parts of another story involving the healing of another woman. In the larger story, a synagogue leader, Jairus, entreats Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and it is on his way to Jairus’s house that he is encountered by the bleeding woman. After the hemorrhaging woman is healed, someone reports that Jairus’s daughter has died, but Jesus insists on seeing her anyway, and commanding her to get up, which she does. This larger narrative, though hinging on a female character, is still taking place in a man’s world. The patriarchal environment is evidenced by the girl’s complete passivity—indeed, she is dead. This story paints a plain picture of the patriarchal setting in which the story of the hemorrhaging woman takes place. The fact that the larger story shares similarities with the smaller one—that it is also a healing narrative and that it also involves a woman—makes the smaller story of the hemorrhaging woman stand out even more as unique for the ways the woman defies gender challenges and expectations.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the patriarchal challenge of her uncleanness is to reach out and touch Jesus anyway. Whereas, presumably, the expectation would be for her to keep her unclean hands to herself and not jeopardize the cleanness of a man, she nevertheless touches Jesus’s cloak, certain that it will be the key to her healing. Indeed, it seems that rather than the woman’s uncleanness transferring to Jesus, Jesus’s power, his holiness, his wholeness, perhaps, actually transfers to the woman. Verse 30 says that Jesus was “aware that power had gone forth from him.” There is no mention of his being tainted or receiving any curse, but rather his own power flows outward. The woman takes this power from him for her own needs, but Jesus is not angry with her. He affirms the faith that empowered her to do it.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the expectation of passivity is to turn it on its head. This portion of the story is a clear distinction and departure from the overarching male/female, passive/active framework. The bleeding woman is the active agent, and Jesus the male savior is the passive recipient. In the rest of Mark, and indeed most of the Gospel accounts, Jesus is the person doing things—traveling, healing, speaking. He is the savior and the main character, after all. To interrupt the Jesus narrative with a story centering on a woman is no small thing. What’s more, it is not simply that the story centers the woman as an active agent, but also that Jesus occupies the passive role. This counter-cultural swap pushes against the patriarchal assumption of women as inactive objects, and it is affirmed and solidified by Jesus’s response to the woman once she explains to him the truth behind what she has done.
Jesus’s inactivity during much of this narrative serves as a foil to highlight the agency of the woman. Jesus is the object, rather than the subject: the woman heard about him, and came up behind him, and touched him. Power had gone forth from him. The woman falls down before him and tells him what happened. Characterizing the woman as the active agent of this gospel rather than Jesus makes Jesus out to be less of a forceful wielder of power, and more the source of empowerment for others. Rather than calling on Jesus to exercise the strength and power expected of a Messiah, the woman’s faith in Jesus empowers her to enact her own healing. This empowerment reminds us that Jesus the Messiah is not the strongman Messiah but rather the Messiah who gives up his power, letting it flow out of him to others.
After the hemorrhaging woman has confronted and defied the patriarchal challenges of being unclean, overlooked, untouchable, and passive, Jesus blesses her: “Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Rather than condemnation for resisting the norms of patriarchal society, the woman receives congratulations for the strength of her faith. Rather than punishment for her audacity, the woman receives praise. Ultimately it is her faith that drives her to disregard the conventions and expectations of society in favor of taking responsibility and ownership of her own body and doing what she knew she had to do to be made well. The faith that Jesus praises is not a faith that submits to patriarchy, but one that resists it. This faith is one that strives to experience life in all its richness and fullness.
To read the story of the hemorrhaging woman that resists patriarchy and celebrates women’s agency is to read a story of female empowerment and affirmation of that empowerment by the Divine. It is to recognize that the oppression of women—that which keeps them marginalized and keeps them sick and suffering—is not compatible with the message and mission of Jesus, that is, love and the fullness of life. What is compatible with the message and mission of Jesus is faith, as exemplified by the hemorrhaging woman. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to seek out Jesus, whatever the cost, rather than heed the ways of the world. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to take control of her own destiny rather than have it dictated to her. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to assert her agency in her life rather than remain a passive recipient.
The story of the woman with the issue of blood is a story of empowerment for women. It’s a story that says, despite the patriarchal mandate for women to obey, submit, and behave, that women can and should take ownership of their lives and advocate for their needs—taking what they need, if necessary—and that this initiative is blessed by the divine. The hemorrhaging woman, who lives in a society that won’t even give her the dignity of a name, nevertheless takes her life, her health, and her faith into her own hands. Ultimately, this text empowers all of us to lay claim to and take charge of our own lives, experiencing life in all its richness and fullness because that is what God desires for us.
PENTECOST MAY 23, 2021
By Nick Smith
Pentecost, the “birthday of Christianity,” celebrates God’s sending of the Holy Spirit, which created understanding and unity among the early followers of the risen Christ. When the Holy Spirit finally came on the day of Pentecost, God made no distinction based on sex. Women received the Holy Spirit in the very same way as the men. "There appeared to them tongues as of fire, being distributed and resting on each of them" (Acts 2:3). Please note that God did not distribute blue tongues and pink tongues. The tongues of fire that sat upon Mary Magdalene and the women were no different than the tongues of fire that sat upon Peter, James, and John.
I’m thankful that Pentecost is here. I’m darn good and ready for a mighty wind to blow through the Roman Catholic Church and wake up some of the bishops and humble them a little bit—wake them up and change a few hearts for the good. After all, the job of Sophia Wisdom is to shake us up, not make us comfortable. The Holy Spirit comes on the wind, and brings fire, and brings action. I think it’s action that we need right now; at least, I’d like to see some action toward justice and equality, and spiritual acceptance and renewal. The church today needs a new Pentecost—one that renews the Holy Spirit for ALL believers.
When the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples were all together in one place. Who were the disciples gathered there? Here is what Luke says in the Acts of the Apostles: “Then the disciples returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk[c] from the city. 13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew; James, son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas, son of James. 14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. 15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a group numbering about a hundred and twenty) 16 and said, “Brothers and sisters,[d] the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus.”
Now, I find this to be most interesting. Jesus leaves the earth and charges his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them. After the roll call of the male disciples, Acts says this: “All of them were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, along with the women and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.”
Well, Howdy Doody looky here. Who are all these women, presumably too numerous to name? I mean, if it were just Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene, wouldn’t the author have simply named them? And if all the male disciples are named, and the number of believers is 120 people, could it be that most of the crowd were also unnamed women, making the majority of the first believers in Jesus Christ, women? Isn’t it interesting that the contemporary church still models these early ratios—where women seem to be the overwhelming majority of believers?
Furthermore, “ALL OF THEM [not just the men] were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages.” You see, the Holy Spirit didn’t discriminate; instead, the Holy spirit breaks apart cultural assumptions about who can receive the spirit and who can preach it, as Peter himself reminds the crowd of the words the prophet Joel spoke: “…God declares that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” Wow! You mean women as well as men can preach and teach the gospel of Jesus.
Now, all believers, men, and women, have direct access to God through Jesus Christ. Now the old laws have passed away allowing continual freedom of worship for both man and woman in the fellowship of the congregation. Pentecost instituted the priesthood of all believers—there are no barriers between male and female in Christ. They both receive redemption in Christ, the gift of the Spirit, and the revelation of the truth. Both are equally God's witnesses testifying God’s truth.
The women who came out of the upper room were a powerful force in early Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that Saul of Tarsus, in his persecution of the church, targeted both men and women. Luke says, "But Saul ravaged the church, entering house by house and dragging out both men and women and committing them to prison" (Acts 8:3).
Although the Catholic Church states a doctrinal argument of tradition against women preaching, teaching and exercising leadership in the church, Jesus made it clear that such opposition is rooted in a hard heart. For example, when He appeared to the 11, after appearing first to Mary Magdalene and the women, He rebuked them for not believing the women's testimony. Mark says, "Afterward He appeared to the eleven as they sat at supper, and He reprimanded them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they did not believe those who had seen Him after He had risen" (Mark 16:14).
As we celebrate Pentecost and remind ourselves of the joy that is the gift of the Holy Spirit, let’s also recognize the presence of women during this occasion when the spirit came upon the very first disciples of Jesus. These un-named women were present at the cross, witnessed Jesus breathe his last, and present at the resurrection, when Jesus’ breath came back. They were present at Pentecost and received the Holy Spirit, Sophia Wisdom, as disciples of Christ; thus, they were prophesying, and prophesy is not telling the future but inspired instruction for the improvement of a person morally and intellectually.
The Church has a long way to go in unwrapping the hypocrisy of tradition developed over the last two thousand years. It needs the strong wind—a real storm—of the Holy Spirit to shake up the patriarchal bastions of religion and return to the roots of Christian faith founded in equality, acceptance, and love. We will be picking up the debris from this storm for an exceptionally long time, and we may be left with little more than God’s grace upon which to rebuild going forward but rebuild we will. We must.
Today's church cannot continue to marginalize women and expect to see a new Pentecost. I am convinced that if we are to see a new earthshaking outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our day, we must open our doors and our hearts to the gifts and callings of the women in our midst. Maybe we won’t live to see what new paths will be revealed after the wind has settled, but Jesus told us that God’s grace is enough. All we have to do is figure out how to cooperate with it for God’s purposes, right? Let’s hope and pray that we’ll be able to do that.
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Mother’s Day 2021
First Reading: Writings from Julia Ward Howe
Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts. Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
The Words of a Wise Woman.
Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: First Letter of John 4: 7-10a, Gospel Reading: John 15: 9-15, 17
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Each of us has an inner child. We talk about nurturing our inner child to refer to self-care and self-compassion. This “child” is an essential part of who we are, a core self that endures well into adulthood, if not for the rest of our lives. And that’s a good thing. The inner child is that part of us that yearns to be cherished, held, loved for who we are. Any good mother does all of these things: gently reminding us through their actions that we are okay, that we are not alone, and that we will be loved for all eternity. All people are capable of being mothers. Some do it far better than biological mothers. There’s no training or certification. Some of it is innate, some of it is “luck of the draw” based on the mothers who mothered our own.
This being mothered serves as the basis for relationship throughout our lives. Just as we have been loved, so we love others. We recognize how significant it is to “love one another” as Jesus encourages us to do. Perhaps this goes back to our origins. In our mother’s wombs, we were physically part of another human being, fully dependent on her for our very existence. That may explain why we are so relational, so in need of connection. Ubuntu is the African belief that I am because you are, a profound belief that we cannot exist without others. That truth, if embraced, could change our world in significant ways, if we would truly live it. I am because you are; the ultimate mothering instinct.
Ancient mythology portrays the goddess of fertility as the source of all life. This goddess has been adored since the beginning of awareness in humans. Back then, the feminine was the higher being, not the lesser one. The being who could create new life was seen as essentially the key to all existence. No wonder that goddess was honored. Without new life, creation is stagnant and eventually all life dies out. We rely on the cycle of birth, life and death. It’s part of the moon and its mystery. And it’s part of womanhood.
Then, we read in Genesis that man was first. Woman was created from man and is thereby lesser. (Even though there is a creation story in Genesis that reports that both male and female were created at the same time. That story is rarely told.) Ever since, we as women have been trying to reclaim our role as equals, as valid in our own right. RCWP is an extension of this, as we seek to bring equality to our Church, a church who lifts up Mary as so very important.
As part of this struggle, I believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus served a vital role. We, our inner child, needed gentleness, nurturing, those feminine qualities that heal and empower. So, as Catholics we were taught to pray to Mary, the intercessor. I remember May crownings with bunches of purple lilacs in hand, carrying Mary in procession around a high school race-track with faithful Catholics singing from the stands, “Hail Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death.” That was called a “Rosary Rally” where we said the rosary, a full meditation to Mary, the Mother of our God. No wonder Protestants thought we worshipped Mary! My parents have led a Marian group for over 50 years. There will be a monthly mass (if a priest is able to attend) and for sure a rosary will be said, led by my mother, most of the time. They will discuss having a booth at the Ohio State Fair where rosaries (that us 8 kids made) and pamphlets with scapulars will be given out for free. Even now, a 4-foot statue of Mary stands in their TV room on a pedestal. She is ever-present and has been the recipient of many a novena, said during life for various wants or needs. Dave and I have our very own statue of Mary that we received for our wedding from my parents. Just what any young couple most needs, right?
Once, when I was about ten, we traveled to Garabandal, a little town in northern Spain where Mary was reported to have appeared to children. We knew the story well. When we arrived in Garabandal, my mother fell to her knees weeping. That made quite an impression on me and my siblings. We lived the belief in Mary on a daily basis. Finally, we attended all night vigils on the first Saturday of every month—even into high school. I wore my scapular until I attended graduate school at Boston College. It took me that long to begin thinking on my own about my very Catholic beliefs.
As an adult, I’ve come to understand Mary as representing the feminine God. I believe that she has helped balance a patriarchal God who was seen as judge, authority, Lord. With Mary, we learned to love an “associate” of God who was more kind, calmer, gentle and loving. For me, she is the Mother God to whom we now pray. I also claim a grandmother God because that image is of my own grandma who laughed and teased and was so much less formal about her faith. She was plump and loved to bake delicious pound cakes and cheesecakes. When I think of her, she is always in the kitchen chopping carrots that she called golden pennies. That’s the image of God who I can relate to, who makes me feel wholly loved.
This Mother’s Day, I encourage you to reclaim your understanding of Mary. Could she be what Mother God is for us? Can we all nurture a fuller belief in a God who has no gender? God is all—more than we can imagine. Yet, we as human beings need to begin somewhere. Mothers are a powerful way to try to expand on who God is for us; loving us, holding us, caring for our every need so that we might become all that we are meant to be. Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have been mothers to us. Happy Mother’s Day to those of us who help to mother others. Amen.
What is your image of Mother God? Who have been mothers to you?
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.
33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time November 14, 2021
Gospel: Mark 13: 1 - 32 by Nick Smith
In today’s Readings our attention is directed to matters related to the end of the world. We are encouraged to pay attention to what’s going on around us and to be prepared to be accountable to God for our choices, individually and as a human family. Other biblical readings often include “the Signs of Armageddon” warning us about false teachers, wars and insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes, famines and plagues, deterioration of families, and hatefulness. Human accountability to God at the End of the World is a familiar biblical theme. Many believe that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have already been unleashed. These beings ride out on white, red, black, and green [pale] horses causing destruction, chaos, and death upon the earth.
These readings reminded me of two of my favorite quotes from literature. The first, from Macbeth by William Shakespeare, is spoken by Macbeth after learning that his wife, Lady Macbeth, is dead: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
The second quote comes from the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens where he characterizes his time with these words: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Perhaps Dickens and Shakespeare’s characterization is relevant for us today. Read the paper, listen to the radio, or watch a television newscast. Disaster is all around us—floods, storms, fires, derechos, riots, wars, hurricanes, covid 19, terrorism, ISIS, murder, droughts, pollution, falsehoods—the list goes on and on. It is easy for us to conclude that gloomy biblical “Signs of the End” typify our human condition. What can we do about the perennial bad news that permeates our everyday lives? Are our efforts merely sound and fury, signifying nothing? Are we truly tossed between a spring of hope and a winter of despair?
I’m not suggesting that we throw up our hands and give up when it comes to our collective world ills. I believe that we should rise up and develop remedies in both private and public sectors that require our institutions to transfigure dehumanizing processes into honorable and Godly enterprises. The Roman Catholic Synod is a good starting place in attempting a change—a reform—to dehumanizing institutions. Saying you’re a Catholic Christian is not enough.
So, rather than accept the trials and turbulations of our personal and communal life as inevitable, we should do something. Rather than simply hope that “somebody will do something,” we should do something. We know that most of us suffer our own injustices: our personal derechos, including family and friendship crisis, money worries, illness, and family loss. Yes, despair and darkness—biblical “signs of the end”—have afflicted many nations; but also, many individuals. So many people have learned to view live with a pessimistic eye.
What I dislike are the modern-day prophets who smile and simply pretend that there is no darkness in our world. They suggest that if we follow “their way” life will be great, and all our cares and concerns will melt away. Bah Humbug, [another Dickens quote] I say. The gospel of Jesus the Christ acknowledges the darkness. Jesus experienced human darkness in all its forms from His birth to His death. He was persecuted, ridiculed, humiliated, and executed. He was economically poor; and yet, immensely rich. He was crucified; and yet, even overcame that! He experienced darkness; and yet, His life and ministry revealed the light amid the evils of His time.
Rather than succumbing to “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” we should look to the hope and light of Jesus Christ. To those who accept Jesus’ invitation to true life, there is hope among woeful realities. In Jesus, each day becomes a new light in our lives, not a day closer to Armageddon. The current ups and downs may offer us small and sometimes exceptional occasions to grow in faith and wisdom and share in affection for one another.
We can choose to walk in the light of “the way” established by Jesus, or we can choose to give in to hopeless darkness, living unproductively on the sidelines waiting for the end. We can accept today’s defects in the world, or we can use them as motivators to transfigure our institutions and ourselves. God will hold us accountable for our responses; in the end God’s will shall be done. Along the way, as we struggle for righteousness, we can endure, and we will overcome!
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time October 28, 2021
Mark 10: 46-52 By Nick Smith
In Jesus’ time, the blind, together with cripples and lepers, were outcasts of society and kept quarantined outside the city limits. In the eyes of the ancient Hebrews the maimed, and especially the blind, were thought to possess a debased character because of the prevailing notion that bodily defects were a punishment for sins they committed or the sins of their parents. People afflicted with physical ailments were treated as outcasts and marginalized as persons outside of the society.
How does Jesus interact with the outcasts of his time? In today’s gospel, Jesus, his professed followers, and a bunch of other people come across Bartimaeus as they are leaving the city. He is blind. He has no way to make a living beyond begging, given his physical captivity. He is “hidden” in plain sight, a normal, accepted, if tragic part of the city’s landscape. You might recall that Jesus healed one blind man as he entered Jericho, then last week, as Jesus and the disciples passed through the city, James and John asked to be seated on Jesus’ right and left when he came into his glory. In each case, Jesus attempts to explain to his inner core of followers just what the kin-dom of heaven is like and what is about to happen for the salvation of the world. No one seems to understand, so Jesus tries a third time to reveal “the way” to his followers.
Bartimaeus senses that real help might be near, so he takes a chance and makes a scene by calling out to Jesus. First, he calls him Jesus (from the Hebrew name, Joshua, meaning Liberator). Then he calls Jesus “Son of David;” that’s King David, the ruler of God’s people charged with the task of creating a just political and economic system for the people.
There is no justice, of course, without mercy, so Bartimaeus calls out for mercy. None is to be found. He is not just overlooked but is vehemently dismissed and told to shut up. Bartimaeus, with nothing left to lose, decides not to shut up this time but calls out a second time even louder. Jesus stops. He makes his disciples get involved by having them interact with the blind man. Bartimaeus can’t believe it — he throws off his cloak and springs up. Jesus directly asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”—the same question he asked James and John.
Look at what Bartimaeus wants—his sight. But notice the difference between what he wanted and what James and John wanted. He wants to be a fully accepted, respected member of society who is treated with dignity, a man eligible to enter the holy places, who belongs there without apology. James and John want power, importance, and authority in the coming Kin-dom of God. Bartimaeus simply wants to be a member. Thanks to Jesus; Bartimaeus is able to articulate his dream to someone who actually treats him as fully human. And when Bartimaeus does this, he participates in his own liberation, for Jesus declares, “Your faith has made you well.” James and John could have asked for the same sight – or insight - into Jesus’ coming Kin-dom, but they do not; in fact, not one of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples ever asks for clarification or insight. They are not “liberated” in their understanding until after Jesus has risen from the dead.
I can’t help but wonder if it was the listening, the understanding, and the interaction that honored the human dignity of Bartimaeus that brought healing. Jesus doesn’t even touch him. Bartimaeus’ eyes are opened, and he becomes a true follower of “the Way.” Jesus treats Bartimaeus in a just way—with compassion, dignity, and love.
With Bartimaeus’ story in my mind, I am struck by the many connections to today’s world and today’s marginalized people. No one wishes to be marginalized any more than they wish to be a blind beggar. Does today’s gospel insinuate that even if we can’t fix all the problems within our society, it’s still worth stopping to help one person? Is there room for both helping an individual and critiquing and reforming an entire social system that sees no incentive in investing in the marginalized? Is this text calling us to do something even in a small way to help the marginalized of our society?
Once Bartimaeus is healed, he follows Jesus. It would appear that Bartimaeus joined in on the healing ministry of Jesus and became another bearer of good news—the last disciple.
If we want to be agents of good news too, we will need to relate to other people in a just way. Do we participate in exploiting our neighbor, even in small, seeming insignificant ways, or do we do what we can to assist those outside the mainstream of our world?
This gospel reveals the ethical interaction we should have with others—following Jesus-style:
Seek the good of the other person first, not your own selfish satisfaction
Engage the other with the deepest respect for their human dignity
Get involved
Get others involved
Liberate the other with compassion, dignity, and love.
We can certainly do this. What would it look like for us to interact with our neighbors in a way that is ethical? I think today’s gospel helps us see how Jesus interacted with and treated social outcasts. And I also feel that today’s gospel directs us to do an extremely easy thing when it comes to our faith and understanding of the Kin-dom—just ask. We should be like Bartimaeus and ask for what we truly need, not power, authority, or importance, but common human dignity and insight into “the way” of Jesus the Christ.
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time-October 10, 2021
Homily: Mark 10:17-31 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Today’s gospel is disturbing for those of us who live a life of being well-off. If it’s truly easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven, we’re in trouble. We’ve never known hunger or lack of shelter or risk of driving while black. Are we all doomed? Are we “unfit” for heaven? Before we believe that we are a lost cause, there are three important points to consider.
First, from this reading, we might assume that all those who are not rich are going to heaven; that, somehow, it’s easier for those without wealth to be heaven bound. That is not a given. So too, those of us who are rich are not automatically unable to get into heaven. Getting to heaven is not a clear path. We all strive to be good and loving towards others. Sometimes, it’s those closest to us that can be the most difficult to love. Love is complicated, full of risks and rarely a simple one act every now and then. Living a life of love is learned and challenged each step of the way. How we respond to these challenges reflects our heart and our hope.
Certainly, if we become complacent because of being rich, that is perhaps the worse way of living a life. I remember an animated movie called “Wall-e” where everything is so roboticized, so automated, that people simply lay in recliners and everything is brought to them. Talk about complacency. Possessions can bring joy and comfort—cars, A/C, our big screen TV. These are common assets that we often take for granted. The real question is, do these items prevent us from living with a passion for others who suffer? Do they isolate us from what is happening around us, especially to the cries of the poor? Realizing that we are truly blessed to be white, to live in privilege should cause us to reach out all the more to those in need. Our recent winter clothing drive might demonstrate this. What’s crucial to consider is what effect our possessions have on us. Do they make us proud? Self-righteous? Or humble and deeply grateful?
Secondly, I’ve always found it curious that we are taught do good deeds for the “points” we get in return. When we were young, many of us followed that point system. Whenever I helped someone, my true focus was on the reward I might get. It’s a very self-serving way of being in relationship; furthering my own path to heaven under the guise of being good and generous towards others. As adults, have we learned to do good despite the reward? Can we care less about what’s in it for us and more about how we might show compassion to those in need? Then, our acts of love are truly unconditional deeds that may transform our hearts and eventually, our world.
Third, those who are considered first on earth may, in faith, NOT be favored in heaven. Which makes me wonder, what is heaven? A reward station where everyone gets paid for what they’re worth? I don’t think so. We have only a limited way of understanding what’s next. Once, when I was working with pediatric kids who had cancer, a 4-year-old asked me about heaven. As I fumbled to find a way to explain it, he suddenly said, “You mean, like another dimension?” That very adult wording comes close to helping us appreciate that heaven is probably very different from our ideas of fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Heaven is the next step, the next dimension in growing to become a loving being. If that’s heaven, then, who’s first and who’s last are the wrong questions. We need to understand that the hereafter is not simply a reward station. That way of thinking may be motivating for children—the basic gold star, behavior modification program. For us adults, we should be able to see beyond such simplistic ways of thinking and behaving.
This past week, we watched Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a classic story—one where the main character, Tevia, talks to God throughout his day and often shouts, “Tradition” as justification for how things should be. When his three daughters challenge this, Tevia struggles to maintain a sense of identity without the usual traditions. He is so attached to his routine way of doing things that change causes him to question everything. Tevia believes that through hierarchical order, laws and tradition, we know who we are and “what God expects of us.” Would that it could be that simple!
Life and the afterlife are mysteries. We do our best to figure out these ambiguities and live a life in keeping with God’s creative effort. Often, in my work, I ask patients who are dying if they believe or hope in something next. Most all of them say that they do, some don’t. But the universal hope is to be reunited with loved ones, those who have died before them whom they long to see. There’s nothing about hierarchy, who’s first, what’s my reward. None of that. That’s because we are people driven, much more than reward driven. We are meant to engage and be in relationship with others. It makes sense that we hope that continues as part of “paradise.”
Perhaps the afterlife is a time when those who love us gather in a circle around us, to greet us and to help us review what our life has meant. No thrones or authorities to point fingers of judgement at us. Just a simple circle of love. And then, with God’s blessing, perhaps we take on new responsibilities. Maybe we are to help those suffering from guilt or loneliness, those who haven’t been able to learn how love works.
Today, I invite us to release fears of heaven and whether we are worthy to enter.Instead, try to name what your legacy is.What is your unique contribution to the world?How do you most hope to be remembered?That’s much more important than worrying about how good we’ve done and if we’ll get enough rewards after we die.Let’s focus more on caring for others regardless of how it benefits us. Then, we will change the world as we co-create with our loving God. Amen.
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time 9-26-21
God’s Gifts of Grace Nick Smith
Today’s readings center around the concept of grace-gifts from God, and “as each has received a gift,” we are to “use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” We are given these gifts for the progress and joy of one another’s faith. Our spiritual gifts enable us to effectively share God’s love with others and make our own unique contribution to God’s Kin-dom. These gifts are neither for you, nor about you. They are not given to bolster your self-image or to serve as a “special” reward from God because of your righteousness. They are not given to raise you up to some level of worldly greatness or success. No, they are yours for the express purpose of building up the Kin-dom of heaven. They are not personality traits, natural talents, or fruits of the spirit; these are God’s contribution to our character, but our spiritual gifts are the contribution we make to God’s Kin-dom. So, what are spiritual gifts? They are a God-given special ability, given to every believer, to share their love and to strengthen the body of Christ through service to each other.
First Reading: The brothers prayed
In the first reading, we have the fulfilment of God's word to Moses, that he should have help in the government of Israel. God gave the Holy Spirit to the seventy elders. They discoursed to the people of the things of God, so that all who heard them might say, that God was truly with them.
Two of the elders [Eldad and Medad, Moses’ half-brothers] were not selected in the lottery, but the Spirit of God found them, and they exercised their gift of prayer, preaching, and praising God; they spoke as moved by the Spirit. Joshua wants Eldad and Medad silenced from their prophesying, but Moses stops him, saying that we should not reject those whom God has chosen, or restrain any from doing good, because they are not in everything of our minds. Moses wishes that all of God’s people were prophets, that God would place the Spirit within every person.
Second Reding: God’s people pray for grace-gifts
In the second reading, Paul explains that all believers are given some gift of grace for the mutual help of the whole—the Church. These gifts are given to improve the situation and spiritual good of others. Here Paul lists five different spiritual gifts bestowed by Christ for the good of the church—Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers. Apostles and Prophets have a foundational role in receiving and proclaiming the mystery of Jesus Christ. Evangelists are the church establishers. Pastors lead the church in day-to-day activities, and Teachers teach the word of God. These gifts are to benefit the church in its growth and maturity. Paul says that Christ gave these gifts to equip his people for works of service.
Every single believer in Jesus Christ has been given a gift for ministry (that's point one). Every church should have Christian leaders (that's part two). But their job isn't to do the ministry. It's to equip all the people in the church to do the work of ministry. That's part three. Paul said it perfectly in verse 16: the church will grow and build itself up in love "as each part does its work." The way that Paul says we will grow into maturity as a church is by tapping into the gospel, putting Christian leaders into place, and then allowing them to equip – to make sufficient and adequate – the believers for ministry.
Gospel Reading: Pray for God’s help
In today’s gospel reading, while Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James and John being transfigured, a man brought his son, who was possessed by a mute spirit. The man had asked Jesus’ disciples to drive the spirit out, but the men were unable to do so. When Jesus heard this, he said, “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you”? He then told the father to bring his son to Him. When the spirits saw Jesus, they immediately threw the boy into convulsions. The child fell to the ground, and he began to foam at the mouth. Jesus asked the father some questions about his son. Finally, the father said to Jesus: “If you can do anything, please have compassion on us. Please help him!” Jesus quietly said to the father, “’If you can!’ Everything is possible to those who have faith.” The father immediately cried out: “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Much to the crowd’s amazement, Jesus drew the unclean spirit out of the boy and pulled the boy to his feet.
The disciples had seen Jesus cast out demons. So, they gave it a shot. They may have uttered some words. They may have thought if they said the right thing in the right way the demon would come out. In other words, they tried magic. The scribes were successful in taunting them into doing something. And of course, they failed. The scribes then used that to say, “See Jesus is a fraud.” And an argument ensued. When the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”
Conclusions: Pray for God’s will
Our nature does not change. We behave the same today as the people in the first century did. When we, or someone we know, experience a tragedy we try to help. We remember the words from the gospel of John, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in me. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
So, prayer must be the magic formula. To make things go our way, we have to learn how to pray. We are told to pray in Jesus’ name. (John 14:13) So, when we pray, we say, “in the name of Jesus,” like that was a magic phrase. When that does not make God obey us, we conclude we need to pray more. We need to pray harder
If that does not work, there must be something wrong in our lives. We try to be better. We try to do better, as if our behavior was a magical force. We treat our good behavior as a debt God must reward. When that does not work, we conclude we are missing the secret. When nothing works, we hold Christ up to ridicule. “See Christianity does not work. Christ is a fraud.”
Do you want to know the secret? Here it is. There is no secret. The demon obeyed Christ because of Christ’s authority. You don’t have any. When Christ said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.” He was saying, “Only God can do it. Pray to God and turn it over to God. The demons obey God, not you.” God is in charge. You are not. The problem with the disciples was that their faith was too little—the kind that trusts God when everything is going well. This is a faith that thrives because there is good health, wealth, and prosperity. It is easy to trust God when life is going well, but the true mark of faith is what happens when things are going wrong, your efforts fail, adversity rises, and tragedy strikes. How one responds is the true mark of faith.
Jesus’ promise that “nothing shall be impossible for you,” is not an open invitation for you to get whatever you want. Faith and prayer are always restricted to only that which is in the framework of God’s will, for that is the very nature of the faith as a mustard seed that Jesus is describing. Faith in itself can accomplish nothing. Faith must be in the proper object. It is the God in whom the faith is grounded that accomplishes the work.
The disciples wondered why they failed. Christ does not attribute their inability to unbelief. Nor does He say, God will give us everything we mention in prayer. Nothing is more at odds with faith than the foolish desires of our hearts.
Janis Joplin-Mercedes Benz(original) - YouTube
Janis Joplin
"Mercedes Benz"
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
That’s it.
Sept. 12, 2021 Homily (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Isaiah 50:4-9a
First Letter Peter 1:1b, 2-7d, 3:13-18
Mark: 8:27-37
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11. There were many commemorations, very moving stories of heroism and unity as a country. Where has all that gone? Here we are twenty years later, and we are so divided and angry. The flag used to represent unity. Now, it can make us cringe. How do we find a way forward?
In our first reading, Isaiah is speaking from the voice of the Messiah. This is one of the Servant Songs. In these, Isaiah tells us that the Messiah will suffer. There is strength and trust in this voice as it speaks truth to power. The Messiah stands firm amidst ridicule and suffering. We hear him say that “God is my helper, the One who Vindicates is near.” He stands and faces the enemy, certain that his fate is in God’s hands. It’s a voice that encourages us to trust as well, to not be afraid.
I still remember how fearful I was on that fateful day of 9/11. I happened to be at home in my bedroom, folding laundry on the bed and watching the news. As soon as I saw the plane hit the tower, I called Dave. He was working at the U and I told him to find a TV. Together we watched in horror. After both towers fell, I remember going to Hoover Elementary. I needed to see my boys; just to see them and make sure they were okay. There was no sense of trust. All Americans seemed at risk. We were united in our vulnerability.
In our second reading, Peter is writing to the early Christians to encourage them. This is during the time of the Dispersion, when Jews had to leave Palestine and live among the Gentiles. They must have been fearful. But, Peter offer encouragement. He tells them to “always be ready to explain the cause of their hope.” I can’t imagine doing that. I remember one 9/11 survivor saying that he was under the only desk that withstood destruction with his Bible on top. That’s its own form of evangelization. My license plate does some of that. It says “Womanpriest” but I never know what message is received. Peter is talking about real courage; the kind that challenges others, face to face. I’m much less ready for that.
And then we have Jesus in the Gospel, questioning the disciples. “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter gets it right. “You are the Christ.” This is a major declaration, one that earns him praise, since Jesus is pleased that they do get it. Perhaps they do understand who I am, he might’ve thought. But not for long.
For Peter, as for most of the disciples, wanted the Christ, the Messiah, to mean immediate military overthrow of the Romans, to mean that finally, the Jewish people would be in power. That longing to be on top would be achieved at last.
But Jesus knows differently. This gospel is the turning point. They leave Galilee and head towards Jerusalem. Jesus will confront those in power directly. His teachings will enrage and provoke them. They want their power. They enjoy having more in life, recognition, the Law, authority. Jesus tries to prepare the disciples.
But Peter reacts—strongly. No. Not you! Peter is now giving correction to Jesus whom he has just called Messiah. It’s a true affront, an insult. And, it makes Jesus is really angry. “Who are you to tell me what my path should be? Who are you to think you understand better than I do?” Jesus was hoping his disciples might recognize the role of suffering. But they don’t. They don’t want more suffering. They don’t want a leader who will be killed. And can you blame them? Who wants to die for their faith?
Suddenly, Jesus calls Peter, Satan. Peter goes from top disciple to Satan in one fell swoop. How disheartening. Such a confusing thing for this group of humans. “We found the Messiah! But he tells us the only way to WIN is to suffer and die. How is that a win?” Jesus is asking the disciples to trust him for a greater WIN—eternal life. That’s a tough concept for those living 2,000 years ago.
We have the benefit of being able to discern and ponder what Jesus has been teaching. We understand and trust that love IS the path, the only true path. We also understand the trappings of power. Most of us have learned that we continue to love, even when we’ve been hurt by our loved ones. That is so difficult, but we know to choose relationship over being “right.” This is the counter-intuitive nature of Jesus’ message—it’s not logical at all.
And yet, even with 2,000 years of learning, we too find it difficult to suffer for the right reason. Underlying today’s readings is a call to have courage. That’s not something I pray for much. I have confidence but do I have courage, the kind of courage to really talk and act on my faith?
Many stories from 9/11 are about self-sacrifice for the lives of others. Many NY police and firefighters gave their lives to help save others. They showed how these brave men and women were driving towards the Towers, not away from them, even after the North Tower fell. I have deep respect for that kind of love and service. Perhaps we can ask ourselves, Do we move towards situations that may require suffering for others or away from them?
We are privileged to have freedom of religion here in America so this is more challenging to ponder. What does our faith call us to do? How can we be courageous because of our faith? Peter says, “We now have an inheritance that cannot fail.” We do believe in eternal life. Is that enough? ________________________________________________________
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time August 22, 2021
Homily Nick Smith
I think this is the third time I’ve given a homily concerning the interaction between Jesus and a Canaanite [Syrophnician] woman. I think I’ve talked about both Mark and Matthew’s retelling of the story. As you know, this is the story where Jesus calls this woman a “Dog.”
Jesus has been preaching in Galilee and has been getting mobbed by the people after John the Baptist’s death. Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to see what’s going on, and they get into a heated debate with Jesus over washing hands before eating. So, Jesus decides to take a beach vacation to the Gentile city of Tyre. Somehow this Gentile woman of another ethnicity finds Jesus and asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him “Lord” and “Son of David.” Jesus straight up ignores her. Her cries must have been obnoxious because Jesus’ disciples ask him to send her away. Jesus replies to them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She knelt before him and asked for help. He replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Her response: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Because of her strong argument and great faith, her daughter was healed.
The woman is focused on her end goal: getting help for her daughter. She doesn’t allow offensive behavior or words to derail her from this goal. The woman gives Jesus a strong argument to heal her daughter, and the daughter is healed.
The woman is an example of “love your enemies, bless them that curse you.”
The reason this story really resonates with me is the amazing example of this woman. She owned her desire for a blessing. She was determined. She was not intimidated by the voice of authority telling her no. She advocated for her daughter. And she did all this while still being incredibly humble. I particularly love how she cleverly retold and expanded Jesus’ parable of the dogs and the children: she used the retelling to give herself a seat at the table (even if it was under the table, with the expectation of scraps.) The way she shifted the perspective of the story provided a strong argument for healing her daughter.
On the other hand, this is a challenging scripture story because Jesus seems to show up on the “wrong” side of His own preaching. The answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?” generally does not include ignoring or belittling people. There are all sorts of explanations of Jesus’ behavior. Maybe he was testing her faith. Maybe he was testing his disciples to see if they thought he should break the mission rules and minister to someone who was not of “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Or maybe the human side of Jesus was still learning. Perhaps Jesus had yet to comprehend the full extent of his ministry. Perhaps he was still learning to see his own prejudice. I don’t know. Initially, the premise that Jesus could have been prejudiced made me uncomfortable but choosing to frame the story with this premise has helped me understand it in new ways.
It is not as easy for me to identify with Jesus in this story. There are so many questions I have about the motivations behind his actions. At some point though, I realized that if I want something in the church structure to change, I must join people who are willing to follow Jesus’ example in this story—people who are willing to change. If we assume that Jesus was prejudiced against the woman but was then willing to listen to her and change how he acted toward her, he shows personal growth and learning. I wonder, though, if we suppose that Jesus was ignorant of his prejudice against this woman until this moment, can it be counted as a change? Perhaps it should be counted as an awakening—one of those aha moments of sudden insight and discovery. Jesus does open his ministry to the gentiles right after this incident by feeding 4000 of them.
This actually gives me a good deal of hope, because I am still learning. I am still finding many parts of my mind that are ignorant and uninformed (not for lack of trying). And I hope I can change course as thoroughly and gracefully as Jesus did. Framing the story as one in which Jesus experiences growth humanizes him so that I can try to follow his example. This story then becomes a wonderful model of “when I know better, I do better.” Jesus didn’t just “do better” in this story, he continued to “do better” afterward.
I was reading a blog the other day explaining the earth’s ecosystem. On this planet there exist these biomes, where only one kind of ecosystem can thrive—grasslands, forests, terrestrial, deserts, aquatic, or something else. At the edges, called ecotones, are a diversity of species that cannot exists within the biomes. And while biomes are certainly very productive in nature, they are also fragile as they can be destroyed if a new species is introduced. The ecotones on the other hand are more flexible because of their diversity. The ecotones act as a region of transition between two habitats and are often richer in species than either ecosystem. A common example would be an area of marshland between a river and its riverbank.
Because of the gendered nature of organizational and ritual authority in the Roman Catholic Church, Catholicism is a male ecosystem, a monoculture that allows only men to thrive. I don’t believe the intent was to oppress women but to build up men; however, the effect of keeping women [and others] separated by placing them under the direction of the priesthood and the church hierarchy has been to lessen responsibility and opportunity for women.
This all-male ecosystem has a profound effect on women, however individual women respond to it. Women are forced to understand themselves from a man’s point of view. Within this monoculture, differing points of view become politicized into the “in group” or the “out group.” In other words, if you are a woman who thinks there are problems with the way women are treated in the Catholic Church, you are a faithless troublemaker, and if you are a woman that thinks there are no problems with the way that women are treated in the Church, you are pronounced to be righteous.
When an organization operates in a binary or monocultural mode, its framework excludes everyone who disagrees with it. The disagreements, however, do not necessarily stem from differences in belief, but differences in lived experiences and the way we negotiate those experiences with Church teaching and dogma. The Roman Catholic hierarchy looks at an ecosystem that was designed to help them thrive, and if they thrive, they see the ecosystem as divine—the way God ordained it. I look at the way this system benefits men at the expense of women and I have a difficult time seeing it as a reflection of God’s will. To create a church where leaders listen, acknowledge, and make space for everyone, including women, we need to transition away from the male monoculture. We should not fear women and men thriving together in a church with greater biodiversity
Sources
Malan, Paul. “Wetlands: The Future of Mormonism.” Medium. Accessed March 6, 2015. https://medium.com/@ungewissen/wetlandsthefutureofmormonismf1c1b3b62256.
Kaylee, Guest Post: “The Syrophoenician Woman is My Hero.” Medium. Accessed August 18, 2021. https://www.the-exponent.com/guest-post-the-syrophoenician-woman-is-my-hero/
Aug. 8, 2021
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Second Reading: Taken from “Walking on Water” by Madeleine L’Engle
We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all the answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.
Unamuno might be describing the artist as well as the Christian as he writes, "Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
The Words of a Wise Woman
Thanks be to God
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:45-52
Homily: Walking on Water
The amazing thing about scripture is that it has layers of meaning. One verse can be viewed in many different ways, depending on the author, the context and new findings that change the understanding of that verse.
Today, we are focusing on the theme of water, walking on water, to be specific. We are 60% water. Up to 60% of the human adult body is water. Our brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. We are dependent on water for our very existence. And yet, in water, we are vulnerable. We cannot walk on water. We cannot breathe under water. So, water is both a threat and a necessity.
As we know, water is fast becoming a commodity that will be bought and sold in our lifetime. We take it so for granted, leaving the faucet on while brushing our teeth or rinsing the dishes or watering the yard. Water is essential to life. So, it is no coincidence that today’s Gospel is meant to teach us many lessons.
First of all, we remember our Gospel readings during the past week when we witnessed Jesus feed the multitudes, either truly multiplying loaves and fishes or by his gesture of love, encouraging the people to share their food with one another.
Today, Jesus sends the disciples into the boat to get to another town. He is the one to disperse the crowd and then goes off by himself to pray. Meanwhile, the disciples are wrestling with the sea. A mighty storm has come upon them, and they are battling the waves. It is noted that the Sea of Galilee gets very rough very easily. Winds come off the north and within minutes can stir up a horrible storm.
It has been estimated that the disciples were rowing for over nine hours. How do we know this? It’s because of the “watch” that is referred to in our reading. The watch is a period of time when one man was designated to stay awake and watch for any dangers during the night. Wolves, bandits, bad weather were constant threats. With a watchman, the others could sleep without worry or concern. A typical Jewish watch was only measured in three sessions: sunset to 10pm, then 10pm to 2am, then 2am to sunrise. Three 4-hour sessions. But after Roman rule, the watch was changed to four sessions. Sunset to 9pm, 9pm to midnight, midnight to 3am and 3am to sunrise. So, when Mark writes that it was the fourth watch of the night, we know it is within that 3am to 6am timeframe. The disciples must’ve been exhausted and greatly frustrated, fearful for their lives.
Such is life during times of crisis and chaos. We don’t know how much more we can take. Just when we think the waves might calm and we begin to hope, another wind comes up to crash the sea against our boat. Will we have the strength to survive?
During this 9-hour time-period, the disciples had rowed only about three miles. The Sea of Galilee is no more than six miles across at its widest spot. They were now in the middle of the sea. How discouraging. We know what that’s like. When we are battling a crisis and we have no way of knowing how much longer we will have to endure. We become very discouraged.
So, Jesus goes out to them. I’ve always thought he went directly to the boat and calmed the sea. This is the first time I’ve noticed that very strange verse that says, “he meant to pass by them.” What? Why would he go past them? No wonder they think he is a ghost, meant to scare and do harm to them.
Only when the disciples cry out does Jesus respond. Isn’t that curious? Does it mean, we need to ask for help? Do we need to acknowledge we cannot go it alone, that the chaos of life is just too much for us? Does Jesus want us to ask for assistance, especially at our most frightened? They say that there are no atheists in fox holes. We all want to believe in God when our lives are at risk and death seems certain. And maybe that’s just what it means to be human. We want to rely on ourselves—until we realize that we truly do need help.
Jesus never imposes himself on us. He wants us to freely choose how we will live our lives. Jesus can be with us during times of crisis, but only if we are willing to allow for this. Perhaps that’s the good and the bad of free-will. Our ego can get in the way of humility until we are forced to surrender.
It says “At once” Jesus reassures them. Immediately, Jesus responds when he hears their cries. And he offers words of comfort: “Take courage. It is I.” “It’s me,” he’s saying, the one you know and love. He climbs into the boat, and all is well. Finally. The disciples must’ve been wondering what took him so long. Where have you been? Haven’t you seen that we were in trouble? But it was dark. Perhaps Jesus was deep in prayer, and it wasn’t until he ended his prayer that he felt something was wrong. Afterall, he walks out to the middle of the sea to help them. I wonder how long it took to walk three miles when you’re walking on water. Are you floating without effort? Clearly, it’s a mystical experience but one that lives in our culture. Walking on water is the epitome of being supernatural. None of us can do it. Even Peter tried and failed. (Mark doesn’t talk about Peter in this gospel. He’s not a fan of Peter so he rarely mentions him.)
In our second reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she says that we live by revelation. She tells us to never become smug, thinking we know all the answers. Otherwise, we forget to question. And questioning is the way of faith. As youngsters, we were taught to never question. What good did that do? It led us to remain as children in our faith. We need to question and wonder and imagine. That enlivens our faith and helps us to grow.
So, as we ponder simple verses that are not simple at all, once we unpack them, let us marvel at the power of scripture to cause us to wonder, to put ourselves in the shoes/sandals of the disciples, to imagine what it was like to be in that boat—the fear and desperation. And then, crying out, to feel the huge relief to hear Jesus’ voice that says, “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”
Before this, the disciples’ hearts had been hardened. I wonder if they were softened by this event. Clearly, they could not deny the experience of being so lost and terrified. And then of how Jesus rescued them from the Sea.
Richard Neill Donovan, a theologian, writes that, “Jesus came to the disciples when the light was most needed and with his coming and self-revelation came the dawn. The dying down of the wind confirms the power of Jesus over the powers of chaos.”
Some want to compare this to the end times. That the fourth watch is symbolizing the end of the world when Jesus comes to save us all. That seems a bit drastic but I get it. We all want the reassurance that death is not the end. We choose to believe that the resurrection awaits us. It’s what we as Christians maintain. Death, darkness, chaos is not the final word.
Let us anchor today’s gospel in our hearts as a reminder of God’s care for us. Life is difficult. It is our faith that helps to keep us afloat and alive.
Amen. Amen.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time: July 11, 2021
First Reading: Taken from Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen.
“Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”
The words of a spiritual writer and humble priest.
Thanks be to God.
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:7-13, 30-34
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
As you heard, we replaced our first reading with a reading on compassion. It’s written by Henri Nouwen, a beloved author of mine who was much like a mentor to me (unbeknownst to him). I chose this reading because it’s how our gospel ends, with Jesus showing compassion for the throngs of people who need his help. Yes, he needed rest, as did his disciples, but the needs of the people overrule. Compassion lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry.
My relationship with Henri Nouwen, as a reader of his works, was foundational to my theology and my spirituality. In the early 1980’s I first read Henri’s book, “With Open Hands” where he gives the very powerful image of living with open hands rather than clenched fists, always grasping for what we want, holding tightly onto control (which is the great illusion). It was the first time that I heard the Gospel through a spiritual author’s voice. And I was hooked. To this day, I’ve used that image of “open hands” with patients who are so anxious for what they want, what they need to have happen. Gently, I’ve opened my hands to invite them to try to be open to what will be, encouraging them to do the same. It’s such an easier way to live. But we humans need to learn the lesson again and again—and again.
The same is true of those in authority. Kings, queens, bosses, CEOs, even heads of household—all who have power often misuse it, to the detriment of all others. Which is probably why Jesus speaks about it so often. He is trying to encourage these leaders to use love and mercy as the basis of relationship with others, regardless of their position of power. When we have open hands, we have a readiness to give and receive—both essential when dealing with others. But for those in power, they often have anything but open hands! They rule with an iron fist, with little care for others. Our previous president loved his power. He may have to pay for that at some point. We can only hope that the justice system will work, eventually.
In our gospel today, Jesus is sending out his disciples to heal and preach the gospel. They go “two by two” which I believe is the foundation of Christianity. Christianity requires two. Unlike Buddhism or many other religions, being Christian means that you have to be in relationship with others. Some try to ignore this aspect of our faith but it’s almost impossible to practice being a Christian alone. Yes, we have our spiritual practices but even those are relational. Prayer is between God and us. It’s fostering a connection, an awareness that there is more than just me. Jesus wants his disciples to model this awareness so he sends them out, two by two. And there’s great benefit for this as well. There’s safety, there’s the ability to debrief about events and there’s the reliability of having a partner. Most importantly, in relationship, there’s the practice of compassion—how are you? How can I be of help? What do you need that I can provide to grow as a disciple of Jesus? Compassion is essential to ministry.
Yesterday, my husband Dave mentioned that he’s been listening to various soliloquies from Shakespeare. One begins with, “The quality of mercy is not strain’d…” and I’d never heard it. It’s from the Merchant of Venice and Portia is the wise woman who is trying to influence the judge in a courtroom. She is disguised as a man, of course, since it was believed that women could never be that wise. She speaks these words:
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice.
There it is. The power of mercy in the hands of the powerful. Portia is saying that mercy is such a lofty quality, that it is mightiest in the mightiest and becomes a king, better than his crown. She is encouraging the men, specifically, the merchant to think wisely and compassionately, rather than being so vengeful. Shakespeare understands that the priority is always putting the focus on care and concern for another. Compassion is a better word, I believe, but not much used in that time. Jesus has compassion for the people in need and places their needs over his own. In other translations, the word “pity” is used. That’s placing the recipient in a lower position. Compassion keeps the relationship level—meaning that to understand how another is feeling, to feel with them, then causes us to react, to respond in a way that demonstrates we get how they are feeling and we feel compelled to help, to be of service. That’s true compassion. And that’s the difference between empathy and compassion. Empathy is good; a feeling of care for another but it’s compassion that adds the element of service.
Shakespeare is a master of feeling and notes that mercy or compassion is an attribute “to God himself.” This reflects an understanding of God that is much deeper than simply the “all-powerful, almighty One.” Rather, it’s an element of care that emphasizes relationship. God cares enough to show mercy. Would that we could do the same to all others. This is why, at Full Circle, we try not to use words of hierarchy such as “Lord” and “almighty.” It’s an effort to shift the focus from the love of power to the power of love.
We are different than other faith communities. We are intentional in hearing the message of Jesus to live in love. Compassion is a core tenet which is why “following the rules” doesn’t always work for us. Let us try be aware when compassion is not the focus of decisions and laws. Jesus would want those laws changed or broken because they are not laws based in love but in power. Notice when that challenge is part of your life. We so want to be right, to win the argument, to convince. When done in love, there is the possibility for change. Only with open hands do we invite God to be part of the process for change. We open our hearts as we open our hands to how God can help to change the love of power to the power of love in our own lives. May compassion rule our lives as we seek to live as true Christians.
Amen.
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time June 27, 2021
The Richness of Life Nick Smith
On Thursday, June 24, 2021, an apartment building in the Surfside area of Miami, Florida, collapsed. The death toll has risen, and 159 people remain unaccounted for. When I first saw the pictures on TV, I was shocked. It’s a difficult thing to imagine—having the place where you live suddenly collapse upon you. I was shocked even more that evening.
I play in a two-man match play golf league on Thursday nights, and while waiting for my partner to arrive, I heard the following comments from some of the other golfers: “The CIA blew it up to kill the president of Venezuela. Just a bunch of welfare whores anyway. Those illegals come up here and then sneak in all their relatives. Serves them right. They got a better place to live then I do, and I work for a living. The whole place was full of illegal Mexicans living off my taxes—I don’t get no rent assistance.” There was a lot more said, but you get the picture. I bit my tongue until I couldn’t take it anymore. I basically told them that they were nuts and pretty darned heartless concerning all those poor souls caught in this tragedy, except I wasn’t very diplomatic about it. I do remember saying: “There but for the grace of God go I.” A couple of the guys just laughed, and one pointed out that I was the man with the bible golf balls—I mark my golf balls with Lk 15:32, which is the last line of the parable of the prodigal son: “This one was lost but now is found.” I’ve actually been troubled, upset and in a bad mood ever since. How could anyone be so callous toward other people?
This event reminded me of Jesus’ response to a collapsed building in his own time. In the gospel of Luke, chapter 13, some people told Jesus about a group of Galileans who had come to the temple to sacrifice, and Pontius Pilate slaughtered them. I don’t know the motivation for relating this story to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is interesting: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13: 2–3). Jesus continues the conversation by mentioning another event, this one involving the tower of Siloam: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:4–5).
In commenting on the fall of the tower of Siloam, Jesus negates four assumptions that people often make: Suffering is proportional to sinfulness, tragedy is a sure sign of God’s judgment, bad things happen only to bad people, and we have the right to make such judgments. To each of these assumptions, Jesus says, no. When we see a tragedy, we should resist the temptation to assign guilt to the victims, as if they had received God’s judgment. Rather, Jesus asks us to look within ourselves and take the tragedy as an opportunity for self-examination, not an occasion for blame.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I should probably turn to today’s readings. They collectively demonstrate God’s plan for us. God wants us to experience life in all its richness and fullness. God desires that we live. Death is not the primary plan for people. True life is experienced when we put our trust and faith in God.
In the First Reading, the Wisdom writer reminds us that God created us for Life, imperishable. We are made infinite, in the image of God’s own nature. The Book of Wisdom proclaims that it is God’s will that we live forever. That is the way God planned it from the very beginning. “God created all things that they might be, that they might live. The generative forces of the world are wholesome; there is no poison in them. The dominion of Hades is not on earth, for justice is undying.”
God wants us to be happy. God desires that we share in the richness and fullness of life. This is, and always has been, God’s plan for us. Paul writes to the people of Corinth informing them that God’s plan, through Jesus, is that we all share in the richness of divine life by sharing what earthly wealth we have with those who have less, experiencing the richness of God. Paul wants the people of Corinth to continue to experience the graciousness of God as manifested in the fullness of life which they receive in and through the ministry of Jesus. They have truly been blessed with the richness of divine life. God, through Jesus, has allowed them to receive the greatest gifts of God, not because they deserve it, but because God is richly gracious. The response to the wealth of graces they have received from God, through the acts of Jesus, is that they must share not only their spiritual richness but even their physical wealth, particularly with those who do not have as much.
In today’s gospel, the story of the hemorrhaging woman is sandwiched between two parts of another story involving the healing of another woman. In the larger story, a synagogue leader, Jairus, entreats Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and it is on his way to Jairus’s house that he is encountered by the bleeding woman. After the hemorrhaging woman is healed, someone reports that Jairus’s daughter has died, but Jesus insists on seeing her anyway, and commanding her to get up, which she does. This larger narrative, though hinging on a female character, is still taking place in a man’s world. The patriarchal environment is evidenced by the girl’s complete passivity—indeed, she is dead. This story paints a plain picture of the patriarchal setting in which the story of the hemorrhaging woman takes place. The fact that the larger story shares similarities with the smaller one—that it is also a healing narrative and that it also involves a woman—makes the smaller story of the hemorrhaging woman stand out even more as unique for the ways the woman defies gender challenges and expectations.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the patriarchal challenge of her uncleanness is to reach out and touch Jesus anyway. Whereas, presumably, the expectation would be for her to keep her unclean hands to herself and not jeopardize the cleanness of a man, she nevertheless touches Jesus’s cloak, certain that it will be the key to her healing. Indeed, it seems that rather than the woman’s uncleanness transferring to Jesus, Jesus’s power, his holiness, his wholeness, perhaps, actually transfers to the woman. Verse 30 says that Jesus was “aware that power had gone forth from him.” There is no mention of his being tainted or receiving any curse, but rather his own power flows outward. The woman takes this power from him for her own needs, but Jesus is not angry with her. He affirms the faith that empowered her to do it.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the expectation of passivity is to turn it on its head. This portion of the story is a clear distinction and departure from the overarching male/female, passive/active framework. The bleeding woman is the active agent, and Jesus the male savior is the passive recipient. In the rest of Mark, and indeed most of the Gospel accounts, Jesus is the person doing things—traveling, healing, speaking. He is the savior and the main character, after all. To interrupt the Jesus narrative with a story centering on a woman is no small thing. What’s more, it is not simply that the story centers the woman as an active agent, but also that Jesus occupies the passive role. This counter-cultural swap pushes against the patriarchal assumption of women as inactive objects, and it is affirmed and solidified by Jesus’s response to the woman once she explains to him the truth behind what she has done.
Jesus’s inactivity during much of this narrative serves as a foil to highlight the agency of the woman. Jesus is the object, rather than the subject: the woman heard about him, and came up behind him, and touched him. Power had gone forth from him. The woman falls down before him and tells him what happened. Characterizing the woman as the active agent of this gospel rather than Jesus makes Jesus out to be less of a forceful wielder of power, and more the source of empowerment for others. Rather than calling on Jesus to exercise the strength and power expected of a Messiah, the woman’s faith in Jesus empowers her to enact her own healing. This empowerment reminds us that Jesus the Messiah is not the strongman Messiah but rather the Messiah who gives up his power, letting it flow out of him to others.
After the hemorrhaging woman has confronted and defied the patriarchal challenges of being unclean, overlooked, untouchable, and passive, Jesus blesses her: “Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Rather than condemnation for resisting the norms of patriarchal society, the woman receives congratulations for the strength of her faith. Rather than punishment for her audacity, the woman receives praise. Ultimately it is her faith that drives her to disregard the conventions and expectations of society in favor of taking responsibility and ownership of her own body and doing what she knew she had to do to be made well. The faith that Jesus praises is not a faith that submits to patriarchy, but one that resists it. This faith is one that strives to experience life in all its richness and fullness.
To read the story of the hemorrhaging woman that resists patriarchy and celebrates women’s agency is to read a story of female empowerment and affirmation of that empowerment by the Divine. It is to recognize that the oppression of women—that which keeps them marginalized and keeps them sick and suffering—is not compatible with the message and mission of Jesus, that is, love and the fullness of life. What is compatible with the message and mission of Jesus is faith, as exemplified by the hemorrhaging woman. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to seek out Jesus, whatever the cost, rather than heed the ways of the world. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to take control of her own destiny rather than have it dictated to her. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to assert her agency in her life rather than remain a passive recipient.
The story of the woman with the issue of blood is a story of empowerment for women. It’s a story that says, despite the patriarchal mandate for women to obey, submit, and behave, that women can and should take ownership of their lives and advocate for their needs—taking what they need, if necessary—and that this initiative is blessed by the divine. The hemorrhaging woman, who lives in a society that won’t even give her the dignity of a name, nevertheless takes her life, her health, and her faith into her own hands. Ultimately, this text empowers all of us to lay claim to and take charge of our own lives, experiencing life in all its richness and fullness because that is what God desires for us.
PENTECOST MAY 23, 2021
By Nick Smith
Pentecost, the “birthday of Christianity,” celebrates God’s sending of the Holy Spirit, which created understanding and unity among the early followers of the risen Christ. When the Holy Spirit finally came on the day of Pentecost, God made no distinction based on sex. Women received the Holy Spirit in the very same way as the men. "There appeared to them tongues as of fire, being distributed and resting on each of them" (Acts 2:3). Please note that God did not distribute blue tongues and pink tongues. The tongues of fire that sat upon Mary Magdalene and the women were no different than the tongues of fire that sat upon Peter, James, and John.
I’m thankful that Pentecost is here. I’m darn good and ready for a mighty wind to blow through the Roman Catholic Church and wake up some of the bishops and humble them a little bit—wake them up and change a few hearts for the good. After all, the job of Sophia Wisdom is to shake us up, not make us comfortable. The Holy Spirit comes on the wind, and brings fire, and brings action. I think it’s action that we need right now; at least, I’d like to see some action toward justice and equality, and spiritual acceptance and renewal. The church today needs a new Pentecost—one that renews the Holy Spirit for ALL believers.
When the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples were all together in one place. Who were the disciples gathered there? Here is what Luke says in the Acts of the Apostles: “Then the disciples returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk[c] from the city. 13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew; James, son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas, son of James. 14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. 15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a group numbering about a hundred and twenty) 16 and said, “Brothers and sisters,[d] the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus.”
Now, I find this to be most interesting. Jesus leaves the earth and charges his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them. After the roll call of the male disciples, Acts says this: “All of them were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, along with the women and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.”
Well, Howdy Doody looky here. Who are all these women, presumably too numerous to name? I mean, if it were just Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene, wouldn’t the author have simply named them? And if all the male disciples are named, and the number of believers is 120 people, could it be that most of the crowd were also unnamed women, making the majority of the first believers in Jesus Christ, women? Isn’t it interesting that the contemporary church still models these early ratios—where women seem to be the overwhelming majority of believers?
Furthermore, “ALL OF THEM [not just the men] were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages.” You see, the Holy Spirit didn’t discriminate; instead, the Holy spirit breaks apart cultural assumptions about who can receive the spirit and who can preach it, as Peter himself reminds the crowd of the words the prophet Joel spoke: “…God declares that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” Wow! You mean women as well as men can preach and teach the gospel of Jesus.
Now, all believers, men, and women, have direct access to God through Jesus Christ. Now the old laws have passed away allowing continual freedom of worship for both man and woman in the fellowship of the congregation. Pentecost instituted the priesthood of all believers—there are no barriers between male and female in Christ. They both receive redemption in Christ, the gift of the Spirit, and the revelation of the truth. Both are equally God's witnesses testifying God’s truth.
The women who came out of the upper room were a powerful force in early Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that Saul of Tarsus, in his persecution of the church, targeted both men and women. Luke says, "But Saul ravaged the church, entering house by house and dragging out both men and women and committing them to prison" (Acts 8:3).
Although the Catholic Church states a doctrinal argument of tradition against women preaching, teaching and exercising leadership in the church, Jesus made it clear that such opposition is rooted in a hard heart. For example, when He appeared to the 11, after appearing first to Mary Magdalene and the women, He rebuked them for not believing the women's testimony. Mark says, "Afterward He appeared to the eleven as they sat at supper, and He reprimanded them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they did not believe those who had seen Him after He had risen" (Mark 16:14).
As we celebrate Pentecost and remind ourselves of the joy that is the gift of the Holy Spirit, let’s also recognize the presence of women during this occasion when the spirit came upon the very first disciples of Jesus. These un-named women were present at the cross, witnessed Jesus breathe his last, and present at the resurrection, when Jesus’ breath came back. They were present at Pentecost and received the Holy Spirit, Sophia Wisdom, as disciples of Christ; thus, they were prophesying, and prophesy is not telling the future but inspired instruction for the improvement of a person morally and intellectually.
The Church has a long way to go in unwrapping the hypocrisy of tradition developed over the last two thousand years. It needs the strong wind—a real storm—of the Holy Spirit to shake up the patriarchal bastions of religion and return to the roots of Christian faith founded in equality, acceptance, and love. We will be picking up the debris from this storm for an exceptionally long time, and we may be left with little more than God’s grace upon which to rebuild going forward but rebuild we will. We must.
Today's church cannot continue to marginalize women and expect to see a new Pentecost. I am convinced that if we are to see a new earthshaking outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our day, we must open our doors and our hearts to the gifts and callings of the women in our midst. Maybe we won’t live to see what new paths will be revealed after the wind has settled, but Jesus told us that God’s grace is enough. All we have to do is figure out how to cooperate with it for God’s purposes, right? Let’s hope and pray that we’ll be able to do that.
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Mother’s Day 2021
First Reading: Writings from Julia Ward Howe
Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts. Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
The Words of a Wise Woman.
Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: First Letter of John 4: 7-10a, Gospel Reading: John 15: 9-15, 17
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Each of us has an inner child. We talk about nurturing our inner child to refer to self-care and self-compassion. This “child” is an essential part of who we are, a core self that endures well into adulthood, if not for the rest of our lives. And that’s a good thing. The inner child is that part of us that yearns to be cherished, held, loved for who we are. Any good mother does all of these things: gently reminding us through their actions that we are okay, that we are not alone, and that we will be loved for all eternity. All people are capable of being mothers. Some do it far better than biological mothers. There’s no training or certification. Some of it is innate, some of it is “luck of the draw” based on the mothers who mothered our own.
This being mothered serves as the basis for relationship throughout our lives. Just as we have been loved, so we love others. We recognize how significant it is to “love one another” as Jesus encourages us to do. Perhaps this goes back to our origins. In our mother’s wombs, we were physically part of another human being, fully dependent on her for our very existence. That may explain why we are so relational, so in need of connection. Ubuntu is the African belief that I am because you are, a profound belief that we cannot exist without others. That truth, if embraced, could change our world in significant ways, if we would truly live it. I am because you are; the ultimate mothering instinct.
Ancient mythology portrays the goddess of fertility as the source of all life. This goddess has been adored since the beginning of awareness in humans. Back then, the feminine was the higher being, not the lesser one. The being who could create new life was seen as essentially the key to all existence. No wonder that goddess was honored. Without new life, creation is stagnant and eventually all life dies out. We rely on the cycle of birth, life and death. It’s part of the moon and its mystery. And it’s part of womanhood.
Then, we read in Genesis that man was first. Woman was created from man and is thereby lesser. (Even though there is a creation story in Genesis that reports that both male and female were created at the same time. That story is rarely told.) Ever since, we as women have been trying to reclaim our role as equals, as valid in our own right. RCWP is an extension of this, as we seek to bring equality to our Church, a church who lifts up Mary as so very important.
As part of this struggle, I believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus served a vital role. We, our inner child, needed gentleness, nurturing, those feminine qualities that heal and empower. So, as Catholics we were taught to pray to Mary, the intercessor. I remember May crownings with bunches of purple lilacs in hand, carrying Mary in procession around a high school race-track with faithful Catholics singing from the stands, “Hail Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death.” That was called a “Rosary Rally” where we said the rosary, a full meditation to Mary, the Mother of our God. No wonder Protestants thought we worshipped Mary! My parents have led a Marian group for over 50 years. There will be a monthly mass (if a priest is able to attend) and for sure a rosary will be said, led by my mother, most of the time. They will discuss having a booth at the Ohio State Fair where rosaries (that us 8 kids made) and pamphlets with scapulars will be given out for free. Even now, a 4-foot statue of Mary stands in their TV room on a pedestal. She is ever-present and has been the recipient of many a novena, said during life for various wants or needs. Dave and I have our very own statue of Mary that we received for our wedding from my parents. Just what any young couple most needs, right?
Once, when I was about ten, we traveled to Garabandal, a little town in northern Spain where Mary was reported to have appeared to children. We knew the story well. When we arrived in Garabandal, my mother fell to her knees weeping. That made quite an impression on me and my siblings. We lived the belief in Mary on a daily basis. Finally, we attended all night vigils on the first Saturday of every month—even into high school. I wore my scapular until I attended graduate school at Boston College. It took me that long to begin thinking on my own about my very Catholic beliefs.
As an adult, I’ve come to understand Mary as representing the feminine God. I believe that she has helped balance a patriarchal God who was seen as judge, authority, Lord. With Mary, we learned to love an “associate” of God who was more kind, calmer, gentle and loving. For me, she is the Mother God to whom we now pray. I also claim a grandmother God because that image is of my own grandma who laughed and teased and was so much less formal about her faith. She was plump and loved to bake delicious pound cakes and cheesecakes. When I think of her, she is always in the kitchen chopping carrots that she called golden pennies. That’s the image of God who I can relate to, who makes me feel wholly loved.
This Mother’s Day, I encourage you to reclaim your understanding of Mary. Could she be what Mother God is for us? Can we all nurture a fuller belief in a God who has no gender? God is all—more than we can imagine. Yet, we as human beings need to begin somewhere. Mothers are a powerful way to try to expand on who God is for us; loving us, holding us, caring for our every need so that we might become all that we are meant to be. Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have been mothers to us. Happy Mother’s Day to those of us who help to mother others. Amen.
What is your image of Mother God? Who have been mothers to you?
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.
33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time November 14, 2021
Gospel: Mark 13: 1 - 32 by Nick Smith
In today’s Readings our attention is directed to matters related to the end of the world. We are encouraged to pay attention to what’s going on around us and to be prepared to be accountable to God for our choices, individually and as a human family. Other biblical readings often include “the Signs of Armageddon” warning us about false teachers, wars and insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes, famines and plagues, deterioration of families, and hatefulness. Human accountability to God at the End of the World is a familiar biblical theme. Many believe that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have already been unleashed. These beings ride out on white, red, black, and green [pale] horses causing destruction, chaos, and death upon the earth.
These readings reminded me of two of my favorite quotes from literature. The first, from Macbeth by William Shakespeare, is spoken by Macbeth after learning that his wife, Lady Macbeth, is dead: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
The second quote comes from the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens where he characterizes his time with these words: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Perhaps Dickens and Shakespeare’s characterization is relevant for us today. Read the paper, listen to the radio, or watch a television newscast. Disaster is all around us—floods, storms, fires, derechos, riots, wars, hurricanes, covid 19, terrorism, ISIS, murder, droughts, pollution, falsehoods—the list goes on and on. It is easy for us to conclude that gloomy biblical “Signs of the End” typify our human condition. What can we do about the perennial bad news that permeates our everyday lives? Are our efforts merely sound and fury, signifying nothing? Are we truly tossed between a spring of hope and a winter of despair?
I’m not suggesting that we throw up our hands and give up when it comes to our collective world ills. I believe that we should rise up and develop remedies in both private and public sectors that require our institutions to transfigure dehumanizing processes into honorable and Godly enterprises. The Roman Catholic Synod is a good starting place in attempting a change—a reform—to dehumanizing institutions. Saying you’re a Catholic Christian is not enough.
So, rather than accept the trials and turbulations of our personal and communal life as inevitable, we should do something. Rather than simply hope that “somebody will do something,” we should do something. We know that most of us suffer our own injustices: our personal derechos, including family and friendship crisis, money worries, illness, and family loss. Yes, despair and darkness—biblical “signs of the end”—have afflicted many nations; but also, many individuals. So many people have learned to view live with a pessimistic eye.
What I dislike are the modern-day prophets who smile and simply pretend that there is no darkness in our world. They suggest that if we follow “their way” life will be great, and all our cares and concerns will melt away. Bah Humbug, [another Dickens quote] I say. The gospel of Jesus the Christ acknowledges the darkness. Jesus experienced human darkness in all its forms from His birth to His death. He was persecuted, ridiculed, humiliated, and executed. He was economically poor; and yet, immensely rich. He was crucified; and yet, even overcame that! He experienced darkness; and yet, His life and ministry revealed the light amid the evils of His time.
Rather than succumbing to “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” we should look to the hope and light of Jesus Christ. To those who accept Jesus’ invitation to true life, there is hope among woeful realities. In Jesus, each day becomes a new light in our lives, not a day closer to Armageddon. The current ups and downs may offer us small and sometimes exceptional occasions to grow in faith and wisdom and share in affection for one another.
We can choose to walk in the light of “the way” established by Jesus, or we can choose to give in to hopeless darkness, living unproductively on the sidelines waiting for the end. We can accept today’s defects in the world, or we can use them as motivators to transfigure our institutions and ourselves. God will hold us accountable for our responses; in the end God’s will shall be done. Along the way, as we struggle for righteousness, we can endure, and we will overcome!
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time October 28, 2021
Mark 10: 46-52 By Nick Smith
In Jesus’ time, the blind, together with cripples and lepers, were outcasts of society and kept quarantined outside the city limits. In the eyes of the ancient Hebrews the maimed, and especially the blind, were thought to possess a debased character because of the prevailing notion that bodily defects were a punishment for sins they committed or the sins of their parents. People afflicted with physical ailments were treated as outcasts and marginalized as persons outside of the society.
How does Jesus interact with the outcasts of his time? In today’s gospel, Jesus, his professed followers, and a bunch of other people come across Bartimaeus as they are leaving the city. He is blind. He has no way to make a living beyond begging, given his physical captivity. He is “hidden” in plain sight, a normal, accepted, if tragic part of the city’s landscape. You might recall that Jesus healed one blind man as he entered Jericho, then last week, as Jesus and the disciples passed through the city, James and John asked to be seated on Jesus’ right and left when he came into his glory. In each case, Jesus attempts to explain to his inner core of followers just what the kin-dom of heaven is like and what is about to happen for the salvation of the world. No one seems to understand, so Jesus tries a third time to reveal “the way” to his followers.
Bartimaeus senses that real help might be near, so he takes a chance and makes a scene by calling out to Jesus. First, he calls him Jesus (from the Hebrew name, Joshua, meaning Liberator). Then he calls Jesus “Son of David;” that’s King David, the ruler of God’s people charged with the task of creating a just political and economic system for the people.
There is no justice, of course, without mercy, so Bartimaeus calls out for mercy. None is to be found. He is not just overlooked but is vehemently dismissed and told to shut up. Bartimaeus, with nothing left to lose, decides not to shut up this time but calls out a second time even louder. Jesus stops. He makes his disciples get involved by having them interact with the blind man. Bartimaeus can’t believe it — he throws off his cloak and springs up. Jesus directly asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”—the same question he asked James and John.
Look at what Bartimaeus wants—his sight. But notice the difference between what he wanted and what James and John wanted. He wants to be a fully accepted, respected member of society who is treated with dignity, a man eligible to enter the holy places, who belongs there without apology. James and John want power, importance, and authority in the coming Kin-dom of God. Bartimaeus simply wants to be a member. Thanks to Jesus; Bartimaeus is able to articulate his dream to someone who actually treats him as fully human. And when Bartimaeus does this, he participates in his own liberation, for Jesus declares, “Your faith has made you well.” James and John could have asked for the same sight – or insight - into Jesus’ coming Kin-dom, but they do not; in fact, not one of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples ever asks for clarification or insight. They are not “liberated” in their understanding until after Jesus has risen from the dead.
I can’t help but wonder if it was the listening, the understanding, and the interaction that honored the human dignity of Bartimaeus that brought healing. Jesus doesn’t even touch him. Bartimaeus’ eyes are opened, and he becomes a true follower of “the Way.” Jesus treats Bartimaeus in a just way—with compassion, dignity, and love.
With Bartimaeus’ story in my mind, I am struck by the many connections to today’s world and today’s marginalized people. No one wishes to be marginalized any more than they wish to be a blind beggar. Does today’s gospel insinuate that even if we can’t fix all the problems within our society, it’s still worth stopping to help one person? Is there room for both helping an individual and critiquing and reforming an entire social system that sees no incentive in investing in the marginalized? Is this text calling us to do something even in a small way to help the marginalized of our society?
Once Bartimaeus is healed, he follows Jesus. It would appear that Bartimaeus joined in on the healing ministry of Jesus and became another bearer of good news—the last disciple.
If we want to be agents of good news too, we will need to relate to other people in a just way. Do we participate in exploiting our neighbor, even in small, seeming insignificant ways, or do we do what we can to assist those outside the mainstream of our world?
This gospel reveals the ethical interaction we should have with others—following Jesus-style:
Seek the good of the other person first, not your own selfish satisfaction
Engage the other with the deepest respect for their human dignity
Get involved
Get others involved
Liberate the other with compassion, dignity, and love.
We can certainly do this. What would it look like for us to interact with our neighbors in a way that is ethical? I think today’s gospel helps us see how Jesus interacted with and treated social outcasts. And I also feel that today’s gospel directs us to do an extremely easy thing when it comes to our faith and understanding of the Kin-dom—just ask. We should be like Bartimaeus and ask for what we truly need, not power, authority, or importance, but common human dignity and insight into “the way” of Jesus the Christ.
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time-October 10, 2021
Homily: Mark 10:17-31 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Today’s gospel is disturbing for those of us who live a life of being well-off. If it’s truly easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven, we’re in trouble. We’ve never known hunger or lack of shelter or risk of driving while black. Are we all doomed? Are we “unfit” for heaven? Before we believe that we are a lost cause, there are three important points to consider.
First, from this reading, we might assume that all those who are not rich are going to heaven; that, somehow, it’s easier for those without wealth to be heaven bound. That is not a given. So too, those of us who are rich are not automatically unable to get into heaven. Getting to heaven is not a clear path. We all strive to be good and loving towards others. Sometimes, it’s those closest to us that can be the most difficult to love. Love is complicated, full of risks and rarely a simple one act every now and then. Living a life of love is learned and challenged each step of the way. How we respond to these challenges reflects our heart and our hope.
Certainly, if we become complacent because of being rich, that is perhaps the worse way of living a life. I remember an animated movie called “Wall-e” where everything is so roboticized, so automated, that people simply lay in recliners and everything is brought to them. Talk about complacency. Possessions can bring joy and comfort—cars, A/C, our big screen TV. These are common assets that we often take for granted. The real question is, do these items prevent us from living with a passion for others who suffer? Do they isolate us from what is happening around us, especially to the cries of the poor? Realizing that we are truly blessed to be white, to live in privilege should cause us to reach out all the more to those in need. Our recent winter clothing drive might demonstrate this. What’s crucial to consider is what effect our possessions have on us. Do they make us proud? Self-righteous? Or humble and deeply grateful?
Secondly, I’ve always found it curious that we are taught do good deeds for the “points” we get in return. When we were young, many of us followed that point system. Whenever I helped someone, my true focus was on the reward I might get. It’s a very self-serving way of being in relationship; furthering my own path to heaven under the guise of being good and generous towards others. As adults, have we learned to do good despite the reward? Can we care less about what’s in it for us and more about how we might show compassion to those in need? Then, our acts of love are truly unconditional deeds that may transform our hearts and eventually, our world.
Third, those who are considered first on earth may, in faith, NOT be favored in heaven. Which makes me wonder, what is heaven? A reward station where everyone gets paid for what they’re worth? I don’t think so. We have only a limited way of understanding what’s next. Once, when I was working with pediatric kids who had cancer, a 4-year-old asked me about heaven. As I fumbled to find a way to explain it, he suddenly said, “You mean, like another dimension?” That very adult wording comes close to helping us appreciate that heaven is probably very different from our ideas of fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Heaven is the next step, the next dimension in growing to become a loving being. If that’s heaven, then, who’s first and who’s last are the wrong questions. We need to understand that the hereafter is not simply a reward station. That way of thinking may be motivating for children—the basic gold star, behavior modification program. For us adults, we should be able to see beyond such simplistic ways of thinking and behaving.
This past week, we watched Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a classic story—one where the main character, Tevia, talks to God throughout his day and often shouts, “Tradition” as justification for how things should be. When his three daughters challenge this, Tevia struggles to maintain a sense of identity without the usual traditions. He is so attached to his routine way of doing things that change causes him to question everything. Tevia believes that through hierarchical order, laws and tradition, we know who we are and “what God expects of us.” Would that it could be that simple!
Life and the afterlife are mysteries. We do our best to figure out these ambiguities and live a life in keeping with God’s creative effort. Often, in my work, I ask patients who are dying if they believe or hope in something next. Most all of them say that they do, some don’t. But the universal hope is to be reunited with loved ones, those who have died before them whom they long to see. There’s nothing about hierarchy, who’s first, what’s my reward. None of that. That’s because we are people driven, much more than reward driven. We are meant to engage and be in relationship with others. It makes sense that we hope that continues as part of “paradise.”
Perhaps the afterlife is a time when those who love us gather in a circle around us, to greet us and to help us review what our life has meant. No thrones or authorities to point fingers of judgement at us. Just a simple circle of love. And then, with God’s blessing, perhaps we take on new responsibilities. Maybe we are to help those suffering from guilt or loneliness, those who haven’t been able to learn how love works.
Today, I invite us to release fears of heaven and whether we are worthy to enter.Instead, try to name what your legacy is.What is your unique contribution to the world?How do you most hope to be remembered?That’s much more important than worrying about how good we’ve done and if we’ll get enough rewards after we die.Let’s focus more on caring for others regardless of how it benefits us. Then, we will change the world as we co-create with our loving God. Amen.
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time 9-26-21
God’s Gifts of Grace Nick Smith
Today’s readings center around the concept of grace-gifts from God, and “as each has received a gift,” we are to “use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” We are given these gifts for the progress and joy of one another’s faith. Our spiritual gifts enable us to effectively share God’s love with others and make our own unique contribution to God’s Kin-dom. These gifts are neither for you, nor about you. They are not given to bolster your self-image or to serve as a “special” reward from God because of your righteousness. They are not given to raise you up to some level of worldly greatness or success. No, they are yours for the express purpose of building up the Kin-dom of heaven. They are not personality traits, natural talents, or fruits of the spirit; these are God’s contribution to our character, but our spiritual gifts are the contribution we make to God’s Kin-dom. So, what are spiritual gifts? They are a God-given special ability, given to every believer, to share their love and to strengthen the body of Christ through service to each other.
First Reading: The brothers prayed
In the first reading, we have the fulfilment of God's word to Moses, that he should have help in the government of Israel. God gave the Holy Spirit to the seventy elders. They discoursed to the people of the things of God, so that all who heard them might say, that God was truly with them.
Two of the elders [Eldad and Medad, Moses’ half-brothers] were not selected in the lottery, but the Spirit of God found them, and they exercised their gift of prayer, preaching, and praising God; they spoke as moved by the Spirit. Joshua wants Eldad and Medad silenced from their prophesying, but Moses stops him, saying that we should not reject those whom God has chosen, or restrain any from doing good, because they are not in everything of our minds. Moses wishes that all of God’s people were prophets, that God would place the Spirit within every person.
Second Reding: God’s people pray for grace-gifts
In the second reading, Paul explains that all believers are given some gift of grace for the mutual help of the whole—the Church. These gifts are given to improve the situation and spiritual good of others. Here Paul lists five different spiritual gifts bestowed by Christ for the good of the church—Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers. Apostles and Prophets have a foundational role in receiving and proclaiming the mystery of Jesus Christ. Evangelists are the church establishers. Pastors lead the church in day-to-day activities, and Teachers teach the word of God. These gifts are to benefit the church in its growth and maturity. Paul says that Christ gave these gifts to equip his people for works of service.
Every single believer in Jesus Christ has been given a gift for ministry (that's point one). Every church should have Christian leaders (that's part two). But their job isn't to do the ministry. It's to equip all the people in the church to do the work of ministry. That's part three. Paul said it perfectly in verse 16: the church will grow and build itself up in love "as each part does its work." The way that Paul says we will grow into maturity as a church is by tapping into the gospel, putting Christian leaders into place, and then allowing them to equip – to make sufficient and adequate – the believers for ministry.
Gospel Reading: Pray for God’s help
In today’s gospel reading, while Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James and John being transfigured, a man brought his son, who was possessed by a mute spirit. The man had asked Jesus’ disciples to drive the spirit out, but the men were unable to do so. When Jesus heard this, he said, “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you”? He then told the father to bring his son to Him. When the spirits saw Jesus, they immediately threw the boy into convulsions. The child fell to the ground, and he began to foam at the mouth. Jesus asked the father some questions about his son. Finally, the father said to Jesus: “If you can do anything, please have compassion on us. Please help him!” Jesus quietly said to the father, “’If you can!’ Everything is possible to those who have faith.” The father immediately cried out: “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Much to the crowd’s amazement, Jesus drew the unclean spirit out of the boy and pulled the boy to his feet.
The disciples had seen Jesus cast out demons. So, they gave it a shot. They may have uttered some words. They may have thought if they said the right thing in the right way the demon would come out. In other words, they tried magic. The scribes were successful in taunting them into doing something. And of course, they failed. The scribes then used that to say, “See Jesus is a fraud.” And an argument ensued. When the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”
Conclusions: Pray for God’s will
Our nature does not change. We behave the same today as the people in the first century did. When we, or someone we know, experience a tragedy we try to help. We remember the words from the gospel of John, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in me. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
So, prayer must be the magic formula. To make things go our way, we have to learn how to pray. We are told to pray in Jesus’ name. (John 14:13) So, when we pray, we say, “in the name of Jesus,” like that was a magic phrase. When that does not make God obey us, we conclude we need to pray more. We need to pray harder
If that does not work, there must be something wrong in our lives. We try to be better. We try to do better, as if our behavior was a magical force. We treat our good behavior as a debt God must reward. When that does not work, we conclude we are missing the secret. When nothing works, we hold Christ up to ridicule. “See Christianity does not work. Christ is a fraud.”
Do you want to know the secret? Here it is. There is no secret. The demon obeyed Christ because of Christ’s authority. You don’t have any. When Christ said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.” He was saying, “Only God can do it. Pray to God and turn it over to God. The demons obey God, not you.” God is in charge. You are not. The problem with the disciples was that their faith was too little—the kind that trusts God when everything is going well. This is a faith that thrives because there is good health, wealth, and prosperity. It is easy to trust God when life is going well, but the true mark of faith is what happens when things are going wrong, your efforts fail, adversity rises, and tragedy strikes. How one responds is the true mark of faith.
Jesus’ promise that “nothing shall be impossible for you,” is not an open invitation for you to get whatever you want. Faith and prayer are always restricted to only that which is in the framework of God’s will, for that is the very nature of the faith as a mustard seed that Jesus is describing. Faith in itself can accomplish nothing. Faith must be in the proper object. It is the God in whom the faith is grounded that accomplishes the work.
The disciples wondered why they failed. Christ does not attribute their inability to unbelief. Nor does He say, God will give us everything we mention in prayer. Nothing is more at odds with faith than the foolish desires of our hearts.
Janis Joplin-Mercedes Benz(original) - YouTube
Janis Joplin
"Mercedes Benz"
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
That’s it.
Sept. 12, 2021 Homily (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Isaiah 50:4-9a
First Letter Peter 1:1b, 2-7d, 3:13-18
Mark: 8:27-37
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11. There were many commemorations, very moving stories of heroism and unity as a country. Where has all that gone? Here we are twenty years later, and we are so divided and angry. The flag used to represent unity. Now, it can make us cringe. How do we find a way forward?
In our first reading, Isaiah is speaking from the voice of the Messiah. This is one of the Servant Songs. In these, Isaiah tells us that the Messiah will suffer. There is strength and trust in this voice as it speaks truth to power. The Messiah stands firm amidst ridicule and suffering. We hear him say that “God is my helper, the One who Vindicates is near.” He stands and faces the enemy, certain that his fate is in God’s hands. It’s a voice that encourages us to trust as well, to not be afraid.
I still remember how fearful I was on that fateful day of 9/11. I happened to be at home in my bedroom, folding laundry on the bed and watching the news. As soon as I saw the plane hit the tower, I called Dave. He was working at the U and I told him to find a TV. Together we watched in horror. After both towers fell, I remember going to Hoover Elementary. I needed to see my boys; just to see them and make sure they were okay. There was no sense of trust. All Americans seemed at risk. We were united in our vulnerability.
In our second reading, Peter is writing to the early Christians to encourage them. This is during the time of the Dispersion, when Jews had to leave Palestine and live among the Gentiles. They must have been fearful. But, Peter offer encouragement. He tells them to “always be ready to explain the cause of their hope.” I can’t imagine doing that. I remember one 9/11 survivor saying that he was under the only desk that withstood destruction with his Bible on top. That’s its own form of evangelization. My license plate does some of that. It says “Womanpriest” but I never know what message is received. Peter is talking about real courage; the kind that challenges others, face to face. I’m much less ready for that.
And then we have Jesus in the Gospel, questioning the disciples. “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter gets it right. “You are the Christ.” This is a major declaration, one that earns him praise, since Jesus is pleased that they do get it. Perhaps they do understand who I am, he might’ve thought. But not for long.
For Peter, as for most of the disciples, wanted the Christ, the Messiah, to mean immediate military overthrow of the Romans, to mean that finally, the Jewish people would be in power. That longing to be on top would be achieved at last.
But Jesus knows differently. This gospel is the turning point. They leave Galilee and head towards Jerusalem. Jesus will confront those in power directly. His teachings will enrage and provoke them. They want their power. They enjoy having more in life, recognition, the Law, authority. Jesus tries to prepare the disciples.
But Peter reacts—strongly. No. Not you! Peter is now giving correction to Jesus whom he has just called Messiah. It’s a true affront, an insult. And, it makes Jesus is really angry. “Who are you to tell me what my path should be? Who are you to think you understand better than I do?” Jesus was hoping his disciples might recognize the role of suffering. But they don’t. They don’t want more suffering. They don’t want a leader who will be killed. And can you blame them? Who wants to die for their faith?
Suddenly, Jesus calls Peter, Satan. Peter goes from top disciple to Satan in one fell swoop. How disheartening. Such a confusing thing for this group of humans. “We found the Messiah! But he tells us the only way to WIN is to suffer and die. How is that a win?” Jesus is asking the disciples to trust him for a greater WIN—eternal life. That’s a tough concept for those living 2,000 years ago.
We have the benefit of being able to discern and ponder what Jesus has been teaching. We understand and trust that love IS the path, the only true path. We also understand the trappings of power. Most of us have learned that we continue to love, even when we’ve been hurt by our loved ones. That is so difficult, but we know to choose relationship over being “right.” This is the counter-intuitive nature of Jesus’ message—it’s not logical at all.
And yet, even with 2,000 years of learning, we too find it difficult to suffer for the right reason. Underlying today’s readings is a call to have courage. That’s not something I pray for much. I have confidence but do I have courage, the kind of courage to really talk and act on my faith?
Many stories from 9/11 are about self-sacrifice for the lives of others. Many NY police and firefighters gave their lives to help save others. They showed how these brave men and women were driving towards the Towers, not away from them, even after the North Tower fell. I have deep respect for that kind of love and service. Perhaps we can ask ourselves, Do we move towards situations that may require suffering for others or away from them?
We are privileged to have freedom of religion here in America so this is more challenging to ponder. What does our faith call us to do? How can we be courageous because of our faith? Peter says, “We now have an inheritance that cannot fail.” We do believe in eternal life. Is that enough? ________________________________________________________
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time August 22, 2021
Homily Nick Smith
I think this is the third time I’ve given a homily concerning the interaction between Jesus and a Canaanite [Syrophnician] woman. I think I’ve talked about both Mark and Matthew’s retelling of the story. As you know, this is the story where Jesus calls this woman a “Dog.”
Jesus has been preaching in Galilee and has been getting mobbed by the people after John the Baptist’s death. Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to see what’s going on, and they get into a heated debate with Jesus over washing hands before eating. So, Jesus decides to take a beach vacation to the Gentile city of Tyre. Somehow this Gentile woman of another ethnicity finds Jesus and asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him “Lord” and “Son of David.” Jesus straight up ignores her. Her cries must have been obnoxious because Jesus’ disciples ask him to send her away. Jesus replies to them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She knelt before him and asked for help. He replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Her response: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Because of her strong argument and great faith, her daughter was healed.
The woman is focused on her end goal: getting help for her daughter. She doesn’t allow offensive behavior or words to derail her from this goal. The woman gives Jesus a strong argument to heal her daughter, and the daughter is healed.
The woman is an example of “love your enemies, bless them that curse you.”
The reason this story really resonates with me is the amazing example of this woman. She owned her desire for a blessing. She was determined. She was not intimidated by the voice of authority telling her no. She advocated for her daughter. And she did all this while still being incredibly humble. I particularly love how she cleverly retold and expanded Jesus’ parable of the dogs and the children: she used the retelling to give herself a seat at the table (even if it was under the table, with the expectation of scraps.) The way she shifted the perspective of the story provided a strong argument for healing her daughter.
On the other hand, this is a challenging scripture story because Jesus seems to show up on the “wrong” side of His own preaching. The answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?” generally does not include ignoring or belittling people. There are all sorts of explanations of Jesus’ behavior. Maybe he was testing her faith. Maybe he was testing his disciples to see if they thought he should break the mission rules and minister to someone who was not of “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Or maybe the human side of Jesus was still learning. Perhaps Jesus had yet to comprehend the full extent of his ministry. Perhaps he was still learning to see his own prejudice. I don’t know. Initially, the premise that Jesus could have been prejudiced made me uncomfortable but choosing to frame the story with this premise has helped me understand it in new ways.
It is not as easy for me to identify with Jesus in this story. There are so many questions I have about the motivations behind his actions. At some point though, I realized that if I want something in the church structure to change, I must join people who are willing to follow Jesus’ example in this story—people who are willing to change. If we assume that Jesus was prejudiced against the woman but was then willing to listen to her and change how he acted toward her, he shows personal growth and learning. I wonder, though, if we suppose that Jesus was ignorant of his prejudice against this woman until this moment, can it be counted as a change? Perhaps it should be counted as an awakening—one of those aha moments of sudden insight and discovery. Jesus does open his ministry to the gentiles right after this incident by feeding 4000 of them.
This actually gives me a good deal of hope, because I am still learning. I am still finding many parts of my mind that are ignorant and uninformed (not for lack of trying). And I hope I can change course as thoroughly and gracefully as Jesus did. Framing the story as one in which Jesus experiences growth humanizes him so that I can try to follow his example. This story then becomes a wonderful model of “when I know better, I do better.” Jesus didn’t just “do better” in this story, he continued to “do better” afterward.
I was reading a blog the other day explaining the earth’s ecosystem. On this planet there exist these biomes, where only one kind of ecosystem can thrive—grasslands, forests, terrestrial, deserts, aquatic, or something else. At the edges, called ecotones, are a diversity of species that cannot exists within the biomes. And while biomes are certainly very productive in nature, they are also fragile as they can be destroyed if a new species is introduced. The ecotones on the other hand are more flexible because of their diversity. The ecotones act as a region of transition between two habitats and are often richer in species than either ecosystem. A common example would be an area of marshland between a river and its riverbank.
Because of the gendered nature of organizational and ritual authority in the Roman Catholic Church, Catholicism is a male ecosystem, a monoculture that allows only men to thrive. I don’t believe the intent was to oppress women but to build up men; however, the effect of keeping women [and others] separated by placing them under the direction of the priesthood and the church hierarchy has been to lessen responsibility and opportunity for women.
This all-male ecosystem has a profound effect on women, however individual women respond to it. Women are forced to understand themselves from a man’s point of view. Within this monoculture, differing points of view become politicized into the “in group” or the “out group.” In other words, if you are a woman who thinks there are problems with the way women are treated in the Catholic Church, you are a faithless troublemaker, and if you are a woman that thinks there are no problems with the way that women are treated in the Church, you are pronounced to be righteous.
When an organization operates in a binary or monocultural mode, its framework excludes everyone who disagrees with it. The disagreements, however, do not necessarily stem from differences in belief, but differences in lived experiences and the way we negotiate those experiences with Church teaching and dogma. The Roman Catholic hierarchy looks at an ecosystem that was designed to help them thrive, and if they thrive, they see the ecosystem as divine—the way God ordained it. I look at the way this system benefits men at the expense of women and I have a difficult time seeing it as a reflection of God’s will. To create a church where leaders listen, acknowledge, and make space for everyone, including women, we need to transition away from the male monoculture. We should not fear women and men thriving together in a church with greater biodiversity
Sources
Malan, Paul. “Wetlands: The Future of Mormonism.” Medium. Accessed March 6, 2015. https://medium.com/@ungewissen/wetlandsthefutureofmormonismf1c1b3b62256.
Kaylee, Guest Post: “The Syrophoenician Woman is My Hero.” Medium. Accessed August 18, 2021. https://www.the-exponent.com/guest-post-the-syrophoenician-woman-is-my-hero/
Aug. 8, 2021
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Second Reading: Taken from “Walking on Water” by Madeleine L’Engle
We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all the answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.
Unamuno might be describing the artist as well as the Christian as he writes, "Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
The Words of a Wise Woman
Thanks be to God
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:45-52
Homily: Walking on Water
The amazing thing about scripture is that it has layers of meaning. One verse can be viewed in many different ways, depending on the author, the context and new findings that change the understanding of that verse.
Today, we are focusing on the theme of water, walking on water, to be specific. We are 60% water. Up to 60% of the human adult body is water. Our brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. We are dependent on water for our very existence. And yet, in water, we are vulnerable. We cannot walk on water. We cannot breathe under water. So, water is both a threat and a necessity.
As we know, water is fast becoming a commodity that will be bought and sold in our lifetime. We take it so for granted, leaving the faucet on while brushing our teeth or rinsing the dishes or watering the yard. Water is essential to life. So, it is no coincidence that today’s Gospel is meant to teach us many lessons.
First of all, we remember our Gospel readings during the past week when we witnessed Jesus feed the multitudes, either truly multiplying loaves and fishes or by his gesture of love, encouraging the people to share their food with one another.
Today, Jesus sends the disciples into the boat to get to another town. He is the one to disperse the crowd and then goes off by himself to pray. Meanwhile, the disciples are wrestling with the sea. A mighty storm has come upon them, and they are battling the waves. It is noted that the Sea of Galilee gets very rough very easily. Winds come off the north and within minutes can stir up a horrible storm.
It has been estimated that the disciples were rowing for over nine hours. How do we know this? It’s because of the “watch” that is referred to in our reading. The watch is a period of time when one man was designated to stay awake and watch for any dangers during the night. Wolves, bandits, bad weather were constant threats. With a watchman, the others could sleep without worry or concern. A typical Jewish watch was only measured in three sessions: sunset to 10pm, then 10pm to 2am, then 2am to sunrise. Three 4-hour sessions. But after Roman rule, the watch was changed to four sessions. Sunset to 9pm, 9pm to midnight, midnight to 3am and 3am to sunrise. So, when Mark writes that it was the fourth watch of the night, we know it is within that 3am to 6am timeframe. The disciples must’ve been exhausted and greatly frustrated, fearful for their lives.
Such is life during times of crisis and chaos. We don’t know how much more we can take. Just when we think the waves might calm and we begin to hope, another wind comes up to crash the sea against our boat. Will we have the strength to survive?
During this 9-hour time-period, the disciples had rowed only about three miles. The Sea of Galilee is no more than six miles across at its widest spot. They were now in the middle of the sea. How discouraging. We know what that’s like. When we are battling a crisis and we have no way of knowing how much longer we will have to endure. We become very discouraged.
So, Jesus goes out to them. I’ve always thought he went directly to the boat and calmed the sea. This is the first time I’ve noticed that very strange verse that says, “he meant to pass by them.” What? Why would he go past them? No wonder they think he is a ghost, meant to scare and do harm to them.
Only when the disciples cry out does Jesus respond. Isn’t that curious? Does it mean, we need to ask for help? Do we need to acknowledge we cannot go it alone, that the chaos of life is just too much for us? Does Jesus want us to ask for assistance, especially at our most frightened? They say that there are no atheists in fox holes. We all want to believe in God when our lives are at risk and death seems certain. And maybe that’s just what it means to be human. We want to rely on ourselves—until we realize that we truly do need help.
Jesus never imposes himself on us. He wants us to freely choose how we will live our lives. Jesus can be with us during times of crisis, but only if we are willing to allow for this. Perhaps that’s the good and the bad of free-will. Our ego can get in the way of humility until we are forced to surrender.
It says “At once” Jesus reassures them. Immediately, Jesus responds when he hears their cries. And he offers words of comfort: “Take courage. It is I.” “It’s me,” he’s saying, the one you know and love. He climbs into the boat, and all is well. Finally. The disciples must’ve been wondering what took him so long. Where have you been? Haven’t you seen that we were in trouble? But it was dark. Perhaps Jesus was deep in prayer, and it wasn’t until he ended his prayer that he felt something was wrong. Afterall, he walks out to the middle of the sea to help them. I wonder how long it took to walk three miles when you’re walking on water. Are you floating without effort? Clearly, it’s a mystical experience but one that lives in our culture. Walking on water is the epitome of being supernatural. None of us can do it. Even Peter tried and failed. (Mark doesn’t talk about Peter in this gospel. He’s not a fan of Peter so he rarely mentions him.)
In our second reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she says that we live by revelation. She tells us to never become smug, thinking we know all the answers. Otherwise, we forget to question. And questioning is the way of faith. As youngsters, we were taught to never question. What good did that do? It led us to remain as children in our faith. We need to question and wonder and imagine. That enlivens our faith and helps us to grow.
So, as we ponder simple verses that are not simple at all, once we unpack them, let us marvel at the power of scripture to cause us to wonder, to put ourselves in the shoes/sandals of the disciples, to imagine what it was like to be in that boat—the fear and desperation. And then, crying out, to feel the huge relief to hear Jesus’ voice that says, “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”
Before this, the disciples’ hearts had been hardened. I wonder if they were softened by this event. Clearly, they could not deny the experience of being so lost and terrified. And then of how Jesus rescued them from the Sea.
Richard Neill Donovan, a theologian, writes that, “Jesus came to the disciples when the light was most needed and with his coming and self-revelation came the dawn. The dying down of the wind confirms the power of Jesus over the powers of chaos.”
Some want to compare this to the end times. That the fourth watch is symbolizing the end of the world when Jesus comes to save us all. That seems a bit drastic but I get it. We all want the reassurance that death is not the end. We choose to believe that the resurrection awaits us. It’s what we as Christians maintain. Death, darkness, chaos is not the final word.
Let us anchor today’s gospel in our hearts as a reminder of God’s care for us. Life is difficult. It is our faith that helps to keep us afloat and alive.
Amen. Amen.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time: July 11, 2021
First Reading: Taken from Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen.
“Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”
The words of a spiritual writer and humble priest.
Thanks be to God.
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:7-13, 30-34
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
As you heard, we replaced our first reading with a reading on compassion. It’s written by Henri Nouwen, a beloved author of mine who was much like a mentor to me (unbeknownst to him). I chose this reading because it’s how our gospel ends, with Jesus showing compassion for the throngs of people who need his help. Yes, he needed rest, as did his disciples, but the needs of the people overrule. Compassion lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry.
My relationship with Henri Nouwen, as a reader of his works, was foundational to my theology and my spirituality. In the early 1980’s I first read Henri’s book, “With Open Hands” where he gives the very powerful image of living with open hands rather than clenched fists, always grasping for what we want, holding tightly onto control (which is the great illusion). It was the first time that I heard the Gospel through a spiritual author’s voice. And I was hooked. To this day, I’ve used that image of “open hands” with patients who are so anxious for what they want, what they need to have happen. Gently, I’ve opened my hands to invite them to try to be open to what will be, encouraging them to do the same. It’s such an easier way to live. But we humans need to learn the lesson again and again—and again.
The same is true of those in authority. Kings, queens, bosses, CEOs, even heads of household—all who have power often misuse it, to the detriment of all others. Which is probably why Jesus speaks about it so often. He is trying to encourage these leaders to use love and mercy as the basis of relationship with others, regardless of their position of power. When we have open hands, we have a readiness to give and receive—both essential when dealing with others. But for those in power, they often have anything but open hands! They rule with an iron fist, with little care for others. Our previous president loved his power. He may have to pay for that at some point. We can only hope that the justice system will work, eventually.
In our gospel today, Jesus is sending out his disciples to heal and preach the gospel. They go “two by two” which I believe is the foundation of Christianity. Christianity requires two. Unlike Buddhism or many other religions, being Christian means that you have to be in relationship with others. Some try to ignore this aspect of our faith but it’s almost impossible to practice being a Christian alone. Yes, we have our spiritual practices but even those are relational. Prayer is between God and us. It’s fostering a connection, an awareness that there is more than just me. Jesus wants his disciples to model this awareness so he sends them out, two by two. And there’s great benefit for this as well. There’s safety, there’s the ability to debrief about events and there’s the reliability of having a partner. Most importantly, in relationship, there’s the practice of compassion—how are you? How can I be of help? What do you need that I can provide to grow as a disciple of Jesus? Compassion is essential to ministry.
Yesterday, my husband Dave mentioned that he’s been listening to various soliloquies from Shakespeare. One begins with, “The quality of mercy is not strain’d…” and I’d never heard it. It’s from the Merchant of Venice and Portia is the wise woman who is trying to influence the judge in a courtroom. She is disguised as a man, of course, since it was believed that women could never be that wise. She speaks these words:
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice.
There it is. The power of mercy in the hands of the powerful. Portia is saying that mercy is such a lofty quality, that it is mightiest in the mightiest and becomes a king, better than his crown. She is encouraging the men, specifically, the merchant to think wisely and compassionately, rather than being so vengeful. Shakespeare understands that the priority is always putting the focus on care and concern for another. Compassion is a better word, I believe, but not much used in that time. Jesus has compassion for the people in need and places their needs over his own. In other translations, the word “pity” is used. That’s placing the recipient in a lower position. Compassion keeps the relationship level—meaning that to understand how another is feeling, to feel with them, then causes us to react, to respond in a way that demonstrates we get how they are feeling and we feel compelled to help, to be of service. That’s true compassion. And that’s the difference between empathy and compassion. Empathy is good; a feeling of care for another but it’s compassion that adds the element of service.
Shakespeare is a master of feeling and notes that mercy or compassion is an attribute “to God himself.” This reflects an understanding of God that is much deeper than simply the “all-powerful, almighty One.” Rather, it’s an element of care that emphasizes relationship. God cares enough to show mercy. Would that we could do the same to all others. This is why, at Full Circle, we try not to use words of hierarchy such as “Lord” and “almighty.” It’s an effort to shift the focus from the love of power to the power of love.
We are different than other faith communities. We are intentional in hearing the message of Jesus to live in love. Compassion is a core tenet which is why “following the rules” doesn’t always work for us. Let us try be aware when compassion is not the focus of decisions and laws. Jesus would want those laws changed or broken because they are not laws based in love but in power. Notice when that challenge is part of your life. We so want to be right, to win the argument, to convince. When done in love, there is the possibility for change. Only with open hands do we invite God to be part of the process for change. We open our hearts as we open our hands to how God can help to change the love of power to the power of love in our own lives. May compassion rule our lives as we seek to live as true Christians.
Amen.
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time June 27, 2021
The Richness of Life Nick Smith
On Thursday, June 24, 2021, an apartment building in the Surfside area of Miami, Florida, collapsed. The death toll has risen, and 159 people remain unaccounted for. When I first saw the pictures on TV, I was shocked. It’s a difficult thing to imagine—having the place where you live suddenly collapse upon you. I was shocked even more that evening.
I play in a two-man match play golf league on Thursday nights, and while waiting for my partner to arrive, I heard the following comments from some of the other golfers: “The CIA blew it up to kill the president of Venezuela. Just a bunch of welfare whores anyway. Those illegals come up here and then sneak in all their relatives. Serves them right. They got a better place to live then I do, and I work for a living. The whole place was full of illegal Mexicans living off my taxes—I don’t get no rent assistance.” There was a lot more said, but you get the picture. I bit my tongue until I couldn’t take it anymore. I basically told them that they were nuts and pretty darned heartless concerning all those poor souls caught in this tragedy, except I wasn’t very diplomatic about it. I do remember saying: “There but for the grace of God go I.” A couple of the guys just laughed, and one pointed out that I was the man with the bible golf balls—I mark my golf balls with Lk 15:32, which is the last line of the parable of the prodigal son: “This one was lost but now is found.” I’ve actually been troubled, upset and in a bad mood ever since. How could anyone be so callous toward other people?
This event reminded me of Jesus’ response to a collapsed building in his own time. In the gospel of Luke, chapter 13, some people told Jesus about a group of Galileans who had come to the temple to sacrifice, and Pontius Pilate slaughtered them. I don’t know the motivation for relating this story to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is interesting: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13: 2–3). Jesus continues the conversation by mentioning another event, this one involving the tower of Siloam: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:4–5).
In commenting on the fall of the tower of Siloam, Jesus negates four assumptions that people often make: Suffering is proportional to sinfulness, tragedy is a sure sign of God’s judgment, bad things happen only to bad people, and we have the right to make such judgments. To each of these assumptions, Jesus says, no. When we see a tragedy, we should resist the temptation to assign guilt to the victims, as if they had received God’s judgment. Rather, Jesus asks us to look within ourselves and take the tragedy as an opportunity for self-examination, not an occasion for blame.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I should probably turn to today’s readings. They collectively demonstrate God’s plan for us. God wants us to experience life in all its richness and fullness. God desires that we live. Death is not the primary plan for people. True life is experienced when we put our trust and faith in God.
In the First Reading, the Wisdom writer reminds us that God created us for Life, imperishable. We are made infinite, in the image of God’s own nature. The Book of Wisdom proclaims that it is God’s will that we live forever. That is the way God planned it from the very beginning. “God created all things that they might be, that they might live. The generative forces of the world are wholesome; there is no poison in them. The dominion of Hades is not on earth, for justice is undying.”
God wants us to be happy. God desires that we share in the richness and fullness of life. This is, and always has been, God’s plan for us. Paul writes to the people of Corinth informing them that God’s plan, through Jesus, is that we all share in the richness of divine life by sharing what earthly wealth we have with those who have less, experiencing the richness of God. Paul wants the people of Corinth to continue to experience the graciousness of God as manifested in the fullness of life which they receive in and through the ministry of Jesus. They have truly been blessed with the richness of divine life. God, through Jesus, has allowed them to receive the greatest gifts of God, not because they deserve it, but because God is richly gracious. The response to the wealth of graces they have received from God, through the acts of Jesus, is that they must share not only their spiritual richness but even their physical wealth, particularly with those who do not have as much.
In today’s gospel, the story of the hemorrhaging woman is sandwiched between two parts of another story involving the healing of another woman. In the larger story, a synagogue leader, Jairus, entreats Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and it is on his way to Jairus’s house that he is encountered by the bleeding woman. After the hemorrhaging woman is healed, someone reports that Jairus’s daughter has died, but Jesus insists on seeing her anyway, and commanding her to get up, which she does. This larger narrative, though hinging on a female character, is still taking place in a man’s world. The patriarchal environment is evidenced by the girl’s complete passivity—indeed, she is dead. This story paints a plain picture of the patriarchal setting in which the story of the hemorrhaging woman takes place. The fact that the larger story shares similarities with the smaller one—that it is also a healing narrative and that it also involves a woman—makes the smaller story of the hemorrhaging woman stand out even more as unique for the ways the woman defies gender challenges and expectations.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the patriarchal challenge of her uncleanness is to reach out and touch Jesus anyway. Whereas, presumably, the expectation would be for her to keep her unclean hands to herself and not jeopardize the cleanness of a man, she nevertheless touches Jesus’s cloak, certain that it will be the key to her healing. Indeed, it seems that rather than the woman’s uncleanness transferring to Jesus, Jesus’s power, his holiness, his wholeness, perhaps, actually transfers to the woman. Verse 30 says that Jesus was “aware that power had gone forth from him.” There is no mention of his being tainted or receiving any curse, but rather his own power flows outward. The woman takes this power from him for her own needs, but Jesus is not angry with her. He affirms the faith that empowered her to do it.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the expectation of passivity is to turn it on its head. This portion of the story is a clear distinction and departure from the overarching male/female, passive/active framework. The bleeding woman is the active agent, and Jesus the male savior is the passive recipient. In the rest of Mark, and indeed most of the Gospel accounts, Jesus is the person doing things—traveling, healing, speaking. He is the savior and the main character, after all. To interrupt the Jesus narrative with a story centering on a woman is no small thing. What’s more, it is not simply that the story centers the woman as an active agent, but also that Jesus occupies the passive role. This counter-cultural swap pushes against the patriarchal assumption of women as inactive objects, and it is affirmed and solidified by Jesus’s response to the woman once she explains to him the truth behind what she has done.
Jesus’s inactivity during much of this narrative serves as a foil to highlight the agency of the woman. Jesus is the object, rather than the subject: the woman heard about him, and came up behind him, and touched him. Power had gone forth from him. The woman falls down before him and tells him what happened. Characterizing the woman as the active agent of this gospel rather than Jesus makes Jesus out to be less of a forceful wielder of power, and more the source of empowerment for others. Rather than calling on Jesus to exercise the strength and power expected of a Messiah, the woman’s faith in Jesus empowers her to enact her own healing. This empowerment reminds us that Jesus the Messiah is not the strongman Messiah but rather the Messiah who gives up his power, letting it flow out of him to others.
After the hemorrhaging woman has confronted and defied the patriarchal challenges of being unclean, overlooked, untouchable, and passive, Jesus blesses her: “Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Rather than condemnation for resisting the norms of patriarchal society, the woman receives congratulations for the strength of her faith. Rather than punishment for her audacity, the woman receives praise. Ultimately it is her faith that drives her to disregard the conventions and expectations of society in favor of taking responsibility and ownership of her own body and doing what she knew she had to do to be made well. The faith that Jesus praises is not a faith that submits to patriarchy, but one that resists it. This faith is one that strives to experience life in all its richness and fullness.
To read the story of the hemorrhaging woman that resists patriarchy and celebrates women’s agency is to read a story of female empowerment and affirmation of that empowerment by the Divine. It is to recognize that the oppression of women—that which keeps them marginalized and keeps them sick and suffering—is not compatible with the message and mission of Jesus, that is, love and the fullness of life. What is compatible with the message and mission of Jesus is faith, as exemplified by the hemorrhaging woman. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to seek out Jesus, whatever the cost, rather than heed the ways of the world. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to take control of her own destiny rather than have it dictated to her. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to assert her agency in her life rather than remain a passive recipient.
The story of the woman with the issue of blood is a story of empowerment for women. It’s a story that says, despite the patriarchal mandate for women to obey, submit, and behave, that women can and should take ownership of their lives and advocate for their needs—taking what they need, if necessary—and that this initiative is blessed by the divine. The hemorrhaging woman, who lives in a society that won’t even give her the dignity of a name, nevertheless takes her life, her health, and her faith into her own hands. Ultimately, this text empowers all of us to lay claim to and take charge of our own lives, experiencing life in all its richness and fullness because that is what God desires for us.
PENTECOST MAY 23, 2021
By Nick Smith
Pentecost, the “birthday of Christianity,” celebrates God’s sending of the Holy Spirit, which created understanding and unity among the early followers of the risen Christ. When the Holy Spirit finally came on the day of Pentecost, God made no distinction based on sex. Women received the Holy Spirit in the very same way as the men. "There appeared to them tongues as of fire, being distributed and resting on each of them" (Acts 2:3). Please note that God did not distribute blue tongues and pink tongues. The tongues of fire that sat upon Mary Magdalene and the women were no different than the tongues of fire that sat upon Peter, James, and John.
I’m thankful that Pentecost is here. I’m darn good and ready for a mighty wind to blow through the Roman Catholic Church and wake up some of the bishops and humble them a little bit—wake them up and change a few hearts for the good. After all, the job of Sophia Wisdom is to shake us up, not make us comfortable. The Holy Spirit comes on the wind, and brings fire, and brings action. I think it’s action that we need right now; at least, I’d like to see some action toward justice and equality, and spiritual acceptance and renewal. The church today needs a new Pentecost—one that renews the Holy Spirit for ALL believers.
When the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples were all together in one place. Who were the disciples gathered there? Here is what Luke says in the Acts of the Apostles: “Then the disciples returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk[c] from the city. 13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew; James, son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas, son of James. 14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. 15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a group numbering about a hundred and twenty) 16 and said, “Brothers and sisters,[d] the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus.”
Now, I find this to be most interesting. Jesus leaves the earth and charges his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them. After the roll call of the male disciples, Acts says this: “All of them were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, along with the women and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.”
Well, Howdy Doody looky here. Who are all these women, presumably too numerous to name? I mean, if it were just Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene, wouldn’t the author have simply named them? And if all the male disciples are named, and the number of believers is 120 people, could it be that most of the crowd were also unnamed women, making the majority of the first believers in Jesus Christ, women? Isn’t it interesting that the contemporary church still models these early ratios—where women seem to be the overwhelming majority of believers?
Furthermore, “ALL OF THEM [not just the men] were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages.” You see, the Holy Spirit didn’t discriminate; instead, the Holy spirit breaks apart cultural assumptions about who can receive the spirit and who can preach it, as Peter himself reminds the crowd of the words the prophet Joel spoke: “…God declares that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” Wow! You mean women as well as men can preach and teach the gospel of Jesus.
Now, all believers, men, and women, have direct access to God through Jesus Christ. Now the old laws have passed away allowing continual freedom of worship for both man and woman in the fellowship of the congregation. Pentecost instituted the priesthood of all believers—there are no barriers between male and female in Christ. They both receive redemption in Christ, the gift of the Spirit, and the revelation of the truth. Both are equally God's witnesses testifying God’s truth.
The women who came out of the upper room were a powerful force in early Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that Saul of Tarsus, in his persecution of the church, targeted both men and women. Luke says, "But Saul ravaged the church, entering house by house and dragging out both men and women and committing them to prison" (Acts 8:3).
Although the Catholic Church states a doctrinal argument of tradition against women preaching, teaching and exercising leadership in the church, Jesus made it clear that such opposition is rooted in a hard heart. For example, when He appeared to the 11, after appearing first to Mary Magdalene and the women, He rebuked them for not believing the women's testimony. Mark says, "Afterward He appeared to the eleven as they sat at supper, and He reprimanded them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they did not believe those who had seen Him after He had risen" (Mark 16:14).
As we celebrate Pentecost and remind ourselves of the joy that is the gift of the Holy Spirit, let’s also recognize the presence of women during this occasion when the spirit came upon the very first disciples of Jesus. These un-named women were present at the cross, witnessed Jesus breathe his last, and present at the resurrection, when Jesus’ breath came back. They were present at Pentecost and received the Holy Spirit, Sophia Wisdom, as disciples of Christ; thus, they were prophesying, and prophesy is not telling the future but inspired instruction for the improvement of a person morally and intellectually.
The Church has a long way to go in unwrapping the hypocrisy of tradition developed over the last two thousand years. It needs the strong wind—a real storm—of the Holy Spirit to shake up the patriarchal bastions of religion and return to the roots of Christian faith founded in equality, acceptance, and love. We will be picking up the debris from this storm for an exceptionally long time, and we may be left with little more than God’s grace upon which to rebuild going forward but rebuild we will. We must.
Today's church cannot continue to marginalize women and expect to see a new Pentecost. I am convinced that if we are to see a new earthshaking outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our day, we must open our doors and our hearts to the gifts and callings of the women in our midst. Maybe we won’t live to see what new paths will be revealed after the wind has settled, but Jesus told us that God’s grace is enough. All we have to do is figure out how to cooperate with it for God’s purposes, right? Let’s hope and pray that we’ll be able to do that.
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Mother’s Day 2021
First Reading: Writings from Julia Ward Howe
Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts. Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
The Words of a Wise Woman.
Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: First Letter of John 4: 7-10a, Gospel Reading: John 15: 9-15, 17
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Each of us has an inner child. We talk about nurturing our inner child to refer to self-care and self-compassion. This “child” is an essential part of who we are, a core self that endures well into adulthood, if not for the rest of our lives. And that’s a good thing. The inner child is that part of us that yearns to be cherished, held, loved for who we are. Any good mother does all of these things: gently reminding us through their actions that we are okay, that we are not alone, and that we will be loved for all eternity. All people are capable of being mothers. Some do it far better than biological mothers. There’s no training or certification. Some of it is innate, some of it is “luck of the draw” based on the mothers who mothered our own.
This being mothered serves as the basis for relationship throughout our lives. Just as we have been loved, so we love others. We recognize how significant it is to “love one another” as Jesus encourages us to do. Perhaps this goes back to our origins. In our mother’s wombs, we were physically part of another human being, fully dependent on her for our very existence. That may explain why we are so relational, so in need of connection. Ubuntu is the African belief that I am because you are, a profound belief that we cannot exist without others. That truth, if embraced, could change our world in significant ways, if we would truly live it. I am because you are; the ultimate mothering instinct.
Ancient mythology portrays the goddess of fertility as the source of all life. This goddess has been adored since the beginning of awareness in humans. Back then, the feminine was the higher being, not the lesser one. The being who could create new life was seen as essentially the key to all existence. No wonder that goddess was honored. Without new life, creation is stagnant and eventually all life dies out. We rely on the cycle of birth, life and death. It’s part of the moon and its mystery. And it’s part of womanhood.
Then, we read in Genesis that man was first. Woman was created from man and is thereby lesser. (Even though there is a creation story in Genesis that reports that both male and female were created at the same time. That story is rarely told.) Ever since, we as women have been trying to reclaim our role as equals, as valid in our own right. RCWP is an extension of this, as we seek to bring equality to our Church, a church who lifts up Mary as so very important.
As part of this struggle, I believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus served a vital role. We, our inner child, needed gentleness, nurturing, those feminine qualities that heal and empower. So, as Catholics we were taught to pray to Mary, the intercessor. I remember May crownings with bunches of purple lilacs in hand, carrying Mary in procession around a high school race-track with faithful Catholics singing from the stands, “Hail Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death.” That was called a “Rosary Rally” where we said the rosary, a full meditation to Mary, the Mother of our God. No wonder Protestants thought we worshipped Mary! My parents have led a Marian group for over 50 years. There will be a monthly mass (if a priest is able to attend) and for sure a rosary will be said, led by my mother, most of the time. They will discuss having a booth at the Ohio State Fair where rosaries (that us 8 kids made) and pamphlets with scapulars will be given out for free. Even now, a 4-foot statue of Mary stands in their TV room on a pedestal. She is ever-present and has been the recipient of many a novena, said during life for various wants or needs. Dave and I have our very own statue of Mary that we received for our wedding from my parents. Just what any young couple most needs, right?
Once, when I was about ten, we traveled to Garabandal, a little town in northern Spain where Mary was reported to have appeared to children. We knew the story well. When we arrived in Garabandal, my mother fell to her knees weeping. That made quite an impression on me and my siblings. We lived the belief in Mary on a daily basis. Finally, we attended all night vigils on the first Saturday of every month—even into high school. I wore my scapular until I attended graduate school at Boston College. It took me that long to begin thinking on my own about my very Catholic beliefs.
As an adult, I’ve come to understand Mary as representing the feminine God. I believe that she has helped balance a patriarchal God who was seen as judge, authority, Lord. With Mary, we learned to love an “associate” of God who was more kind, calmer, gentle and loving. For me, she is the Mother God to whom we now pray. I also claim a grandmother God because that image is of my own grandma who laughed and teased and was so much less formal about her faith. She was plump and loved to bake delicious pound cakes and cheesecakes. When I think of her, she is always in the kitchen chopping carrots that she called golden pennies. That’s the image of God who I can relate to, who makes me feel wholly loved.
This Mother’s Day, I encourage you to reclaim your understanding of Mary. Could she be what Mother God is for us? Can we all nurture a fuller belief in a God who has no gender? God is all—more than we can imagine. Yet, we as human beings need to begin somewhere. Mothers are a powerful way to try to expand on who God is for us; loving us, holding us, caring for our every need so that we might become all that we are meant to be. Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have been mothers to us. Happy Mother’s Day to those of us who help to mother others. Amen.
What is your image of Mother God? Who have been mothers to you?
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.
Advent 1 Homily
Advent is the beginning of the liturgical year; as such it defines why we bother to gather and do liturgy at all. Why meet? Why do ritual? Why believe in God at all? There are many lessons in today’s gospel that help unpack these questions and help us to reclaim and rename why we are here.
In our gospel, Zechariah and Elizabeth are finally blessed with news of a child. This is reminiscent of the OT story of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis. Same story, different family. We do that lovely spiral of spirituality where we repeat and remember. Oh, that’s right. God blessed an elderly couple with a child who changed the world. God is doing that again here. How wonderful. Let us rejoice.
Did you notice a few important details? Zechariah is a married priest. For two weeks out of the year, he has to go to Jerusalem and serve in the temple. He gets chosen for the privilege of lighting the incense in the tabernacle and there is where he has the vision from God. He learns that his wife will become pregnant and that this child will be special; will be the one who prepares the way for the Messiah. Pretty good.
This is really good news for Zechariah, but I want to point out what it means for Elizabeth. Before this, Elizabeth had to suffer the judgement of not being able to conceive for her entire adult life. It was always the woman’s fault for not being able to have a child. The man also suffered shame but secondarily. Now, Elizabeth would be honored, cherished—and she would have a child, a legacy for her forevermore.
Zecharia doubts that this pronouncement can be true. How can this be? It must seem impossible, even for a priest. It’s been a long time. Hope must’ve ended a long time ago. But now, instead of readily believing, Zechariah expressed doubt. And so, he is struck mute. Not until the actual birth and circumcision of baby John can Zechariah speak. This could’ve meant that Elizabeth had more power than usual. As our intro to Advent commentary says, “This leaves room for women’s unmuted voices.” Our voice conveys our power. It must’ve been very different to hear Elizabeth’s voice in the household and out in the fields. Without a voice, Zechariah may have needed Elizabeth’s help. Imagine that. And this may well be the reason why, in the traditional lectionary, Elizabeth is never mentioned. Women’s voices and their stories are hidden and avoided which, in turn, minimized their significance in the Jesus story. RCWP works to uplift these unheard stories and to rewrite history more authentically.
When Zechariah speaks after the birth of his son, John, his first words are words of praise. Zechariah has had lots of time, nine months to ponder how to respond to God. His response is known as Zechariah’s canticle. It goes like this: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably upon his people and redeemed them.” It remind us of God’s love and favor upon us. Yes, us. We are the ones who have chosen to remember and celebrate God’s actions down through the ages. God’s promises of care and concern both in the past and in our current times. We gather and affirm that God can be trusted, even when all seems lost.
Here we are again, at the beginning of a new year of faith, journeying through life’s trial and celebrations. We choose to make God part of that process. God’s grace has gotten us this far and we choose to share that good news with the world. Our beliefs inspire us to reach beyond ourselves to those in need, to help change the world for good. And now, we begin to anticipate the story of another child, one who will teach us how to change the world. Jesus is coming, being birthed by a young woman who said yes. Radical. God starts with a woman who is on the margins, not even married yet! She is faithful. Mary is a woman we emulate. We hope to have the depth of her faith that would immediately cause us to say yes to our next risk. God will be with us whenever we risk for love. Jesus is coming and we anticipate the promise.
As a final note, I wanted to share with you something my son David shared with me. Jon Batiste is a musician who was just nominated for eleven Grammy’s. He’s Steven Colbert’s band leader and that’s the way I’ve always known him. But now, he is coming into his own. David played me one of his songs entitled, “We Are.” We Are (Official Audio) - Jon Batiste - YouTube Here are some of the lyrics:
The ghetto is full of stars
Watch them shine from afar
On days when it's hard
And always. We are, we are, we are, we are the golden ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the chosen ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the chosen ones
We are, we are, we are, we are the golden ones
We're never alone, no, no
We're never alone. We are the chosen ones.
It’s no irony that this musician’s name reminds us of John the Baptist, right? He just might be our modern-day prophet, reminding us of God’s faithfulness. We are the chosen ones. Jon Batiste is certainly referring to his own people, African Americans, who have carried the burden of remaining hopeful amidst great suffering and pain. But he’s not being exclusive—we are all the chosen ones. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones.
And I believe that this is our message for Advent and throughout the year. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones. Just like Abraham and Sarah, Zechariah and Elizabeth, the Israelites, the . We are the chosen ones to share the good news that God is faithful. God has promised us life beyond death and darkness. God has promised that all are welcome, all are chosen. We are, we are, we are the chosen ones. God has chosen all of us to be one.
33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time November 14, 2021
Gospel: Mark 13: 1 - 32 by Nick Smith
In today’s Readings our attention is directed to matters related to the end of the world. We are encouraged to pay attention to what’s going on around us and to be prepared to be accountable to God for our choices, individually and as a human family. Other biblical readings often include “the Signs of Armageddon” warning us about false teachers, wars and insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes, famines and plagues, deterioration of families, and hatefulness. Human accountability to God at the End of the World is a familiar biblical theme. Many believe that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have already been unleashed. These beings ride out on white, red, black, and green [pale] horses causing destruction, chaos, and death upon the earth.
These readings reminded me of two of my favorite quotes from literature. The first, from Macbeth by William Shakespeare, is spoken by Macbeth after learning that his wife, Lady Macbeth, is dead: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
The second quote comes from the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens where he characterizes his time with these words: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Perhaps Dickens and Shakespeare’s characterization is relevant for us today. Read the paper, listen to the radio, or watch a television newscast. Disaster is all around us—floods, storms, fires, derechos, riots, wars, hurricanes, covid 19, terrorism, ISIS, murder, droughts, pollution, falsehoods—the list goes on and on. It is easy for us to conclude that gloomy biblical “Signs of the End” typify our human condition. What can we do about the perennial bad news that permeates our everyday lives? Are our efforts merely sound and fury, signifying nothing? Are we truly tossed between a spring of hope and a winter of despair?
I’m not suggesting that we throw up our hands and give up when it comes to our collective world ills. I believe that we should rise up and develop remedies in both private and public sectors that require our institutions to transfigure dehumanizing processes into honorable and Godly enterprises. The Roman Catholic Synod is a good starting place in attempting a change—a reform—to dehumanizing institutions. Saying you’re a Catholic Christian is not enough.
So, rather than accept the trials and turbulations of our personal and communal life as inevitable, we should do something. Rather than simply hope that “somebody will do something,” we should do something. We know that most of us suffer our own injustices: our personal derechos, including family and friendship crisis, money worries, illness, and family loss. Yes, despair and darkness—biblical “signs of the end”—have afflicted many nations; but also, many individuals. So many people have learned to view live with a pessimistic eye.
What I dislike are the modern-day prophets who smile and simply pretend that there is no darkness in our world. They suggest that if we follow “their way” life will be great, and all our cares and concerns will melt away. Bah Humbug, [another Dickens quote] I say. The gospel of Jesus the Christ acknowledges the darkness. Jesus experienced human darkness in all its forms from His birth to His death. He was persecuted, ridiculed, humiliated, and executed. He was economically poor; and yet, immensely rich. He was crucified; and yet, even overcame that! He experienced darkness; and yet, His life and ministry revealed the light amid the evils of His time.
Rather than succumbing to “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” we should look to the hope and light of Jesus Christ. To those who accept Jesus’ invitation to true life, there is hope among woeful realities. In Jesus, each day becomes a new light in our lives, not a day closer to Armageddon. The current ups and downs may offer us small and sometimes exceptional occasions to grow in faith and wisdom and share in affection for one another.
We can choose to walk in the light of “the way” established by Jesus, or we can choose to give in to hopeless darkness, living unproductively on the sidelines waiting for the end. We can accept today’s defects in the world, or we can use them as motivators to transfigure our institutions and ourselves. God will hold us accountable for our responses; in the end God’s will shall be done. Along the way, as we struggle for righteousness, we can endure, and we will overcome!
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time October 28, 2021
Mark 10: 46-52 By Nick Smith
In Jesus’ time, the blind, together with cripples and lepers, were outcasts of society and kept quarantined outside the city limits. In the eyes of the ancient Hebrews the maimed, and especially the blind, were thought to possess a debased character because of the prevailing notion that bodily defects were a punishment for sins they committed or the sins of their parents. People afflicted with physical ailments were treated as outcasts and marginalized as persons outside of the society.
How does Jesus interact with the outcasts of his time? In today’s gospel, Jesus, his professed followers, and a bunch of other people come across Bartimaeus as they are leaving the city. He is blind. He has no way to make a living beyond begging, given his physical captivity. He is “hidden” in plain sight, a normal, accepted, if tragic part of the city’s landscape. You might recall that Jesus healed one blind man as he entered Jericho, then last week, as Jesus and the disciples passed through the city, James and John asked to be seated on Jesus’ right and left when he came into his glory. In each case, Jesus attempts to explain to his inner core of followers just what the kin-dom of heaven is like and what is about to happen for the salvation of the world. No one seems to understand, so Jesus tries a third time to reveal “the way” to his followers.
Bartimaeus senses that real help might be near, so he takes a chance and makes a scene by calling out to Jesus. First, he calls him Jesus (from the Hebrew name, Joshua, meaning Liberator). Then he calls Jesus “Son of David;” that’s King David, the ruler of God’s people charged with the task of creating a just political and economic system for the people.
There is no justice, of course, without mercy, so Bartimaeus calls out for mercy. None is to be found. He is not just overlooked but is vehemently dismissed and told to shut up. Bartimaeus, with nothing left to lose, decides not to shut up this time but calls out a second time even louder. Jesus stops. He makes his disciples get involved by having them interact with the blind man. Bartimaeus can’t believe it — he throws off his cloak and springs up. Jesus directly asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”—the same question he asked James and John.
Look at what Bartimaeus wants—his sight. But notice the difference between what he wanted and what James and John wanted. He wants to be a fully accepted, respected member of society who is treated with dignity, a man eligible to enter the holy places, who belongs there without apology. James and John want power, importance, and authority in the coming Kin-dom of God. Bartimaeus simply wants to be a member. Thanks to Jesus; Bartimaeus is able to articulate his dream to someone who actually treats him as fully human. And when Bartimaeus does this, he participates in his own liberation, for Jesus declares, “Your faith has made you well.” James and John could have asked for the same sight – or insight - into Jesus’ coming Kin-dom, but they do not; in fact, not one of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples ever asks for clarification or insight. They are not “liberated” in their understanding until after Jesus has risen from the dead.
I can’t help but wonder if it was the listening, the understanding, and the interaction that honored the human dignity of Bartimaeus that brought healing. Jesus doesn’t even touch him. Bartimaeus’ eyes are opened, and he becomes a true follower of “the Way.” Jesus treats Bartimaeus in a just way—with compassion, dignity, and love.
With Bartimaeus’ story in my mind, I am struck by the many connections to today’s world and today’s marginalized people. No one wishes to be marginalized any more than they wish to be a blind beggar. Does today’s gospel insinuate that even if we can’t fix all the problems within our society, it’s still worth stopping to help one person? Is there room for both helping an individual and critiquing and reforming an entire social system that sees no incentive in investing in the marginalized? Is this text calling us to do something even in a small way to help the marginalized of our society?
Once Bartimaeus is healed, he follows Jesus. It would appear that Bartimaeus joined in on the healing ministry of Jesus and became another bearer of good news—the last disciple.
If we want to be agents of good news too, we will need to relate to other people in a just way. Do we participate in exploiting our neighbor, even in small, seeming insignificant ways, or do we do what we can to assist those outside the mainstream of our world?
This gospel reveals the ethical interaction we should have with others—following Jesus-style:
Seek the good of the other person first, not your own selfish satisfaction
Engage the other with the deepest respect for their human dignity
Get involved
Get others involved
Liberate the other with compassion, dignity, and love.
We can certainly do this. What would it look like for us to interact with our neighbors in a way that is ethical? I think today’s gospel helps us see how Jesus interacted with and treated social outcasts. And I also feel that today’s gospel directs us to do an extremely easy thing when it comes to our faith and understanding of the Kin-dom—just ask. We should be like Bartimaeus and ask for what we truly need, not power, authority, or importance, but common human dignity and insight into “the way” of Jesus the Christ.
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time-October 10, 2021
Homily: Mark 10:17-31 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Today’s gospel is disturbing for those of us who live a life of being well-off. If it’s truly easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven, we’re in trouble. We’ve never known hunger or lack of shelter or risk of driving while black. Are we all doomed? Are we “unfit” for heaven? Before we believe that we are a lost cause, there are three important points to consider.
First, from this reading, we might assume that all those who are not rich are going to heaven; that, somehow, it’s easier for those without wealth to be heaven bound. That is not a given. So too, those of us who are rich are not automatically unable to get into heaven. Getting to heaven is not a clear path. We all strive to be good and loving towards others. Sometimes, it’s those closest to us that can be the most difficult to love. Love is complicated, full of risks and rarely a simple one act every now and then. Living a life of love is learned and challenged each step of the way. How we respond to these challenges reflects our heart and our hope.
Certainly, if we become complacent because of being rich, that is perhaps the worse way of living a life. I remember an animated movie called “Wall-e” where everything is so roboticized, so automated, that people simply lay in recliners and everything is brought to them. Talk about complacency. Possessions can bring joy and comfort—cars, A/C, our big screen TV. These are common assets that we often take for granted. The real question is, do these items prevent us from living with a passion for others who suffer? Do they isolate us from what is happening around us, especially to the cries of the poor? Realizing that we are truly blessed to be white, to live in privilege should cause us to reach out all the more to those in need. Our recent winter clothing drive might demonstrate this. What’s crucial to consider is what effect our possessions have on us. Do they make us proud? Self-righteous? Or humble and deeply grateful?
Secondly, I’ve always found it curious that we are taught do good deeds for the “points” we get in return. When we were young, many of us followed that point system. Whenever I helped someone, my true focus was on the reward I might get. It’s a very self-serving way of being in relationship; furthering my own path to heaven under the guise of being good and generous towards others. As adults, have we learned to do good despite the reward? Can we care less about what’s in it for us and more about how we might show compassion to those in need? Then, our acts of love are truly unconditional deeds that may transform our hearts and eventually, our world.
Third, those who are considered first on earth may, in faith, NOT be favored in heaven. Which makes me wonder, what is heaven? A reward station where everyone gets paid for what they’re worth? I don’t think so. We have only a limited way of understanding what’s next. Once, when I was working with pediatric kids who had cancer, a 4-year-old asked me about heaven. As I fumbled to find a way to explain it, he suddenly said, “You mean, like another dimension?” That very adult wording comes close to helping us appreciate that heaven is probably very different from our ideas of fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Heaven is the next step, the next dimension in growing to become a loving being. If that’s heaven, then, who’s first and who’s last are the wrong questions. We need to understand that the hereafter is not simply a reward station. That way of thinking may be motivating for children—the basic gold star, behavior modification program. For us adults, we should be able to see beyond such simplistic ways of thinking and behaving.
This past week, we watched Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a classic story—one where the main character, Tevia, talks to God throughout his day and often shouts, “Tradition” as justification for how things should be. When his three daughters challenge this, Tevia struggles to maintain a sense of identity without the usual traditions. He is so attached to his routine way of doing things that change causes him to question everything. Tevia believes that through hierarchical order, laws and tradition, we know who we are and “what God expects of us.” Would that it could be that simple!
Life and the afterlife are mysteries. We do our best to figure out these ambiguities and live a life in keeping with God’s creative effort. Often, in my work, I ask patients who are dying if they believe or hope in something next. Most all of them say that they do, some don’t. But the universal hope is to be reunited with loved ones, those who have died before them whom they long to see. There’s nothing about hierarchy, who’s first, what’s my reward. None of that. That’s because we are people driven, much more than reward driven. We are meant to engage and be in relationship with others. It makes sense that we hope that continues as part of “paradise.”
Perhaps the afterlife is a time when those who love us gather in a circle around us, to greet us and to help us review what our life has meant. No thrones or authorities to point fingers of judgement at us. Just a simple circle of love. And then, with God’s blessing, perhaps we take on new responsibilities. Maybe we are to help those suffering from guilt or loneliness, those who haven’t been able to learn how love works.
Today, I invite us to release fears of heaven and whether we are worthy to enter.Instead, try to name what your legacy is.What is your unique contribution to the world?How do you most hope to be remembered?That’s much more important than worrying about how good we’ve done and if we’ll get enough rewards after we die.Let’s focus more on caring for others regardless of how it benefits us. Then, we will change the world as we co-create with our loving God. Amen.
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time 9-26-21
God’s Gifts of Grace Nick Smith
Today’s readings center around the concept of grace-gifts from God, and “as each has received a gift,” we are to “use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” We are given these gifts for the progress and joy of one another’s faith. Our spiritual gifts enable us to effectively share God’s love with others and make our own unique contribution to God’s Kin-dom. These gifts are neither for you, nor about you. They are not given to bolster your self-image or to serve as a “special” reward from God because of your righteousness. They are not given to raise you up to some level of worldly greatness or success. No, they are yours for the express purpose of building up the Kin-dom of heaven. They are not personality traits, natural talents, or fruits of the spirit; these are God’s contribution to our character, but our spiritual gifts are the contribution we make to God’s Kin-dom. So, what are spiritual gifts? They are a God-given special ability, given to every believer, to share their love and to strengthen the body of Christ through service to each other.
First Reading: The brothers prayed
In the first reading, we have the fulfilment of God's word to Moses, that he should have help in the government of Israel. God gave the Holy Spirit to the seventy elders. They discoursed to the people of the things of God, so that all who heard them might say, that God was truly with them.
Two of the elders [Eldad and Medad, Moses’ half-brothers] were not selected in the lottery, but the Spirit of God found them, and they exercised their gift of prayer, preaching, and praising God; they spoke as moved by the Spirit. Joshua wants Eldad and Medad silenced from their prophesying, but Moses stops him, saying that we should not reject those whom God has chosen, or restrain any from doing good, because they are not in everything of our minds. Moses wishes that all of God’s people were prophets, that God would place the Spirit within every person.
Second Reding: God’s people pray for grace-gifts
In the second reading, Paul explains that all believers are given some gift of grace for the mutual help of the whole—the Church. These gifts are given to improve the situation and spiritual good of others. Here Paul lists five different spiritual gifts bestowed by Christ for the good of the church—Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers. Apostles and Prophets have a foundational role in receiving and proclaiming the mystery of Jesus Christ. Evangelists are the church establishers. Pastors lead the church in day-to-day activities, and Teachers teach the word of God. These gifts are to benefit the church in its growth and maturity. Paul says that Christ gave these gifts to equip his people for works of service.
Every single believer in Jesus Christ has been given a gift for ministry (that's point one). Every church should have Christian leaders (that's part two). But their job isn't to do the ministry. It's to equip all the people in the church to do the work of ministry. That's part three. Paul said it perfectly in verse 16: the church will grow and build itself up in love "as each part does its work." The way that Paul says we will grow into maturity as a church is by tapping into the gospel, putting Christian leaders into place, and then allowing them to equip – to make sufficient and adequate – the believers for ministry.
Gospel Reading: Pray for God’s help
In today’s gospel reading, while Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James and John being transfigured, a man brought his son, who was possessed by a mute spirit. The man had asked Jesus’ disciples to drive the spirit out, but the men were unable to do so. When Jesus heard this, he said, “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you”? He then told the father to bring his son to Him. When the spirits saw Jesus, they immediately threw the boy into convulsions. The child fell to the ground, and he began to foam at the mouth. Jesus asked the father some questions about his son. Finally, the father said to Jesus: “If you can do anything, please have compassion on us. Please help him!” Jesus quietly said to the father, “’If you can!’ Everything is possible to those who have faith.” The father immediately cried out: “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Much to the crowd’s amazement, Jesus drew the unclean spirit out of the boy and pulled the boy to his feet.
The disciples had seen Jesus cast out demons. So, they gave it a shot. They may have uttered some words. They may have thought if they said the right thing in the right way the demon would come out. In other words, they tried magic. The scribes were successful in taunting them into doing something. And of course, they failed. The scribes then used that to say, “See Jesus is a fraud.” And an argument ensued. When the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”
Conclusions: Pray for God’s will
Our nature does not change. We behave the same today as the people in the first century did. When we, or someone we know, experience a tragedy we try to help. We remember the words from the gospel of John, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in me. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
So, prayer must be the magic formula. To make things go our way, we have to learn how to pray. We are told to pray in Jesus’ name. (John 14:13) So, when we pray, we say, “in the name of Jesus,” like that was a magic phrase. When that does not make God obey us, we conclude we need to pray more. We need to pray harder
If that does not work, there must be something wrong in our lives. We try to be better. We try to do better, as if our behavior was a magical force. We treat our good behavior as a debt God must reward. When that does not work, we conclude we are missing the secret. When nothing works, we hold Christ up to ridicule. “See Christianity does not work. Christ is a fraud.”
Do you want to know the secret? Here it is. There is no secret. The demon obeyed Christ because of Christ’s authority. You don’t have any. When Christ said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.” He was saying, “Only God can do it. Pray to God and turn it over to God. The demons obey God, not you.” God is in charge. You are not. The problem with the disciples was that their faith was too little—the kind that trusts God when everything is going well. This is a faith that thrives because there is good health, wealth, and prosperity. It is easy to trust God when life is going well, but the true mark of faith is what happens when things are going wrong, your efforts fail, adversity rises, and tragedy strikes. How one responds is the true mark of faith.
Jesus’ promise that “nothing shall be impossible for you,” is not an open invitation for you to get whatever you want. Faith and prayer are always restricted to only that which is in the framework of God’s will, for that is the very nature of the faith as a mustard seed that Jesus is describing. Faith in itself can accomplish nothing. Faith must be in the proper object. It is the God in whom the faith is grounded that accomplishes the work.
The disciples wondered why they failed. Christ does not attribute their inability to unbelief. Nor does He say, God will give us everything we mention in prayer. Nothing is more at odds with faith than the foolish desires of our hearts.
Janis Joplin-Mercedes Benz(original) - YouTube
Janis Joplin
"Mercedes Benz"
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
That’s it.
Sept. 12, 2021 Homily (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Isaiah 50:4-9a
First Letter Peter 1:1b, 2-7d, 3:13-18
Mark: 8:27-37
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11. There were many commemorations, very moving stories of heroism and unity as a country. Where has all that gone? Here we are twenty years later, and we are so divided and angry. The flag used to represent unity. Now, it can make us cringe. How do we find a way forward?
In our first reading, Isaiah is speaking from the voice of the Messiah. This is one of the Servant Songs. In these, Isaiah tells us that the Messiah will suffer. There is strength and trust in this voice as it speaks truth to power. The Messiah stands firm amidst ridicule and suffering. We hear him say that “God is my helper, the One who Vindicates is near.” He stands and faces the enemy, certain that his fate is in God’s hands. It’s a voice that encourages us to trust as well, to not be afraid.
I still remember how fearful I was on that fateful day of 9/11. I happened to be at home in my bedroom, folding laundry on the bed and watching the news. As soon as I saw the plane hit the tower, I called Dave. He was working at the U and I told him to find a TV. Together we watched in horror. After both towers fell, I remember going to Hoover Elementary. I needed to see my boys; just to see them and make sure they were okay. There was no sense of trust. All Americans seemed at risk. We were united in our vulnerability.
In our second reading, Peter is writing to the early Christians to encourage them. This is during the time of the Dispersion, when Jews had to leave Palestine and live among the Gentiles. They must have been fearful. But, Peter offer encouragement. He tells them to “always be ready to explain the cause of their hope.” I can’t imagine doing that. I remember one 9/11 survivor saying that he was under the only desk that withstood destruction with his Bible on top. That’s its own form of evangelization. My license plate does some of that. It says “Womanpriest” but I never know what message is received. Peter is talking about real courage; the kind that challenges others, face to face. I’m much less ready for that.
And then we have Jesus in the Gospel, questioning the disciples. “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter gets it right. “You are the Christ.” This is a major declaration, one that earns him praise, since Jesus is pleased that they do get it. Perhaps they do understand who I am, he might’ve thought. But not for long.
For Peter, as for most of the disciples, wanted the Christ, the Messiah, to mean immediate military overthrow of the Romans, to mean that finally, the Jewish people would be in power. That longing to be on top would be achieved at last.
But Jesus knows differently. This gospel is the turning point. They leave Galilee and head towards Jerusalem. Jesus will confront those in power directly. His teachings will enrage and provoke them. They want their power. They enjoy having more in life, recognition, the Law, authority. Jesus tries to prepare the disciples.
But Peter reacts—strongly. No. Not you! Peter is now giving correction to Jesus whom he has just called Messiah. It’s a true affront, an insult. And, it makes Jesus is really angry. “Who are you to tell me what my path should be? Who are you to think you understand better than I do?” Jesus was hoping his disciples might recognize the role of suffering. But they don’t. They don’t want more suffering. They don’t want a leader who will be killed. And can you blame them? Who wants to die for their faith?
Suddenly, Jesus calls Peter, Satan. Peter goes from top disciple to Satan in one fell swoop. How disheartening. Such a confusing thing for this group of humans. “We found the Messiah! But he tells us the only way to WIN is to suffer and die. How is that a win?” Jesus is asking the disciples to trust him for a greater WIN—eternal life. That’s a tough concept for those living 2,000 years ago.
We have the benefit of being able to discern and ponder what Jesus has been teaching. We understand and trust that love IS the path, the only true path. We also understand the trappings of power. Most of us have learned that we continue to love, even when we’ve been hurt by our loved ones. That is so difficult, but we know to choose relationship over being “right.” This is the counter-intuitive nature of Jesus’ message—it’s not logical at all.
And yet, even with 2,000 years of learning, we too find it difficult to suffer for the right reason. Underlying today’s readings is a call to have courage. That’s not something I pray for much. I have confidence but do I have courage, the kind of courage to really talk and act on my faith?
Many stories from 9/11 are about self-sacrifice for the lives of others. Many NY police and firefighters gave their lives to help save others. They showed how these brave men and women were driving towards the Towers, not away from them, even after the North Tower fell. I have deep respect for that kind of love and service. Perhaps we can ask ourselves, Do we move towards situations that may require suffering for others or away from them?
We are privileged to have freedom of religion here in America so this is more challenging to ponder. What does our faith call us to do? How can we be courageous because of our faith? Peter says, “We now have an inheritance that cannot fail.” We do believe in eternal life. Is that enough? ________________________________________________________
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time August 22, 2021
Homily Nick Smith
I think this is the third time I’ve given a homily concerning the interaction between Jesus and a Canaanite [Syrophnician] woman. I think I’ve talked about both Mark and Matthew’s retelling of the story. As you know, this is the story where Jesus calls this woman a “Dog.”
Jesus has been preaching in Galilee and has been getting mobbed by the people after John the Baptist’s death. Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to see what’s going on, and they get into a heated debate with Jesus over washing hands before eating. So, Jesus decides to take a beach vacation to the Gentile city of Tyre. Somehow this Gentile woman of another ethnicity finds Jesus and asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him “Lord” and “Son of David.” Jesus straight up ignores her. Her cries must have been obnoxious because Jesus’ disciples ask him to send her away. Jesus replies to them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She knelt before him and asked for help. He replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Her response: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Because of her strong argument and great faith, her daughter was healed.
The woman is focused on her end goal: getting help for her daughter. She doesn’t allow offensive behavior or words to derail her from this goal. The woman gives Jesus a strong argument to heal her daughter, and the daughter is healed.
The woman is an example of “love your enemies, bless them that curse you.”
The reason this story really resonates with me is the amazing example of this woman. She owned her desire for a blessing. She was determined. She was not intimidated by the voice of authority telling her no. She advocated for her daughter. And she did all this while still being incredibly humble. I particularly love how she cleverly retold and expanded Jesus’ parable of the dogs and the children: she used the retelling to give herself a seat at the table (even if it was under the table, with the expectation of scraps.) The way she shifted the perspective of the story provided a strong argument for healing her daughter.
On the other hand, this is a challenging scripture story because Jesus seems to show up on the “wrong” side of His own preaching. The answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?” generally does not include ignoring or belittling people. There are all sorts of explanations of Jesus’ behavior. Maybe he was testing her faith. Maybe he was testing his disciples to see if they thought he should break the mission rules and minister to someone who was not of “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Or maybe the human side of Jesus was still learning. Perhaps Jesus had yet to comprehend the full extent of his ministry. Perhaps he was still learning to see his own prejudice. I don’t know. Initially, the premise that Jesus could have been prejudiced made me uncomfortable but choosing to frame the story with this premise has helped me understand it in new ways.
It is not as easy for me to identify with Jesus in this story. There are so many questions I have about the motivations behind his actions. At some point though, I realized that if I want something in the church structure to change, I must join people who are willing to follow Jesus’ example in this story—people who are willing to change. If we assume that Jesus was prejudiced against the woman but was then willing to listen to her and change how he acted toward her, he shows personal growth and learning. I wonder, though, if we suppose that Jesus was ignorant of his prejudice against this woman until this moment, can it be counted as a change? Perhaps it should be counted as an awakening—one of those aha moments of sudden insight and discovery. Jesus does open his ministry to the gentiles right after this incident by feeding 4000 of them.
This actually gives me a good deal of hope, because I am still learning. I am still finding many parts of my mind that are ignorant and uninformed (not for lack of trying). And I hope I can change course as thoroughly and gracefully as Jesus did. Framing the story as one in which Jesus experiences growth humanizes him so that I can try to follow his example. This story then becomes a wonderful model of “when I know better, I do better.” Jesus didn’t just “do better” in this story, he continued to “do better” afterward.
I was reading a blog the other day explaining the earth’s ecosystem. On this planet there exist these biomes, where only one kind of ecosystem can thrive—grasslands, forests, terrestrial, deserts, aquatic, or something else. At the edges, called ecotones, are a diversity of species that cannot exists within the biomes. And while biomes are certainly very productive in nature, they are also fragile as they can be destroyed if a new species is introduced. The ecotones on the other hand are more flexible because of their diversity. The ecotones act as a region of transition between two habitats and are often richer in species than either ecosystem. A common example would be an area of marshland between a river and its riverbank.
Because of the gendered nature of organizational and ritual authority in the Roman Catholic Church, Catholicism is a male ecosystem, a monoculture that allows only men to thrive. I don’t believe the intent was to oppress women but to build up men; however, the effect of keeping women [and others] separated by placing them under the direction of the priesthood and the church hierarchy has been to lessen responsibility and opportunity for women.
This all-male ecosystem has a profound effect on women, however individual women respond to it. Women are forced to understand themselves from a man’s point of view. Within this monoculture, differing points of view become politicized into the “in group” or the “out group.” In other words, if you are a woman who thinks there are problems with the way women are treated in the Catholic Church, you are a faithless troublemaker, and if you are a woman that thinks there are no problems with the way that women are treated in the Church, you are pronounced to be righteous.
When an organization operates in a binary or monocultural mode, its framework excludes everyone who disagrees with it. The disagreements, however, do not necessarily stem from differences in belief, but differences in lived experiences and the way we negotiate those experiences with Church teaching and dogma. The Roman Catholic hierarchy looks at an ecosystem that was designed to help them thrive, and if they thrive, they see the ecosystem as divine—the way God ordained it. I look at the way this system benefits men at the expense of women and I have a difficult time seeing it as a reflection of God’s will. To create a church where leaders listen, acknowledge, and make space for everyone, including women, we need to transition away from the male monoculture. We should not fear women and men thriving together in a church with greater biodiversity
Sources
Malan, Paul. “Wetlands: The Future of Mormonism.” Medium. Accessed March 6, 2015. https://medium.com/@ungewissen/wetlandsthefutureofmormonismf1c1b3b62256.
Kaylee, Guest Post: “The Syrophoenician Woman is My Hero.” Medium. Accessed August 18, 2021. https://www.the-exponent.com/guest-post-the-syrophoenician-woman-is-my-hero/
Aug. 8, 2021
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Second Reading: Taken from “Walking on Water” by Madeleine L’Engle
We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all the answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.
Unamuno might be describing the artist as well as the Christian as he writes, "Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
The Words of a Wise Woman
Thanks be to God
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:45-52
Homily: Walking on Water
The amazing thing about scripture is that it has layers of meaning. One verse can be viewed in many different ways, depending on the author, the context and new findings that change the understanding of that verse.
Today, we are focusing on the theme of water, walking on water, to be specific. We are 60% water. Up to 60% of the human adult body is water. Our brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. We are dependent on water for our very existence. And yet, in water, we are vulnerable. We cannot walk on water. We cannot breathe under water. So, water is both a threat and a necessity.
As we know, water is fast becoming a commodity that will be bought and sold in our lifetime. We take it so for granted, leaving the faucet on while brushing our teeth or rinsing the dishes or watering the yard. Water is essential to life. So, it is no coincidence that today’s Gospel is meant to teach us many lessons.
First of all, we remember our Gospel readings during the past week when we witnessed Jesus feed the multitudes, either truly multiplying loaves and fishes or by his gesture of love, encouraging the people to share their food with one another.
Today, Jesus sends the disciples into the boat to get to another town. He is the one to disperse the crowd and then goes off by himself to pray. Meanwhile, the disciples are wrestling with the sea. A mighty storm has come upon them, and they are battling the waves. It is noted that the Sea of Galilee gets very rough very easily. Winds come off the north and within minutes can stir up a horrible storm.
It has been estimated that the disciples were rowing for over nine hours. How do we know this? It’s because of the “watch” that is referred to in our reading. The watch is a period of time when one man was designated to stay awake and watch for any dangers during the night. Wolves, bandits, bad weather were constant threats. With a watchman, the others could sleep without worry or concern. A typical Jewish watch was only measured in three sessions: sunset to 10pm, then 10pm to 2am, then 2am to sunrise. Three 4-hour sessions. But after Roman rule, the watch was changed to four sessions. Sunset to 9pm, 9pm to midnight, midnight to 3am and 3am to sunrise. So, when Mark writes that it was the fourth watch of the night, we know it is within that 3am to 6am timeframe. The disciples must’ve been exhausted and greatly frustrated, fearful for their lives.
Such is life during times of crisis and chaos. We don’t know how much more we can take. Just when we think the waves might calm and we begin to hope, another wind comes up to crash the sea against our boat. Will we have the strength to survive?
During this 9-hour time-period, the disciples had rowed only about three miles. The Sea of Galilee is no more than six miles across at its widest spot. They were now in the middle of the sea. How discouraging. We know what that’s like. When we are battling a crisis and we have no way of knowing how much longer we will have to endure. We become very discouraged.
So, Jesus goes out to them. I’ve always thought he went directly to the boat and calmed the sea. This is the first time I’ve noticed that very strange verse that says, “he meant to pass by them.” What? Why would he go past them? No wonder they think he is a ghost, meant to scare and do harm to them.
Only when the disciples cry out does Jesus respond. Isn’t that curious? Does it mean, we need to ask for help? Do we need to acknowledge we cannot go it alone, that the chaos of life is just too much for us? Does Jesus want us to ask for assistance, especially at our most frightened? They say that there are no atheists in fox holes. We all want to believe in God when our lives are at risk and death seems certain. And maybe that’s just what it means to be human. We want to rely on ourselves—until we realize that we truly do need help.
Jesus never imposes himself on us. He wants us to freely choose how we will live our lives. Jesus can be with us during times of crisis, but only if we are willing to allow for this. Perhaps that’s the good and the bad of free-will. Our ego can get in the way of humility until we are forced to surrender.
It says “At once” Jesus reassures them. Immediately, Jesus responds when he hears their cries. And he offers words of comfort: “Take courage. It is I.” “It’s me,” he’s saying, the one you know and love. He climbs into the boat, and all is well. Finally. The disciples must’ve been wondering what took him so long. Where have you been? Haven’t you seen that we were in trouble? But it was dark. Perhaps Jesus was deep in prayer, and it wasn’t until he ended his prayer that he felt something was wrong. Afterall, he walks out to the middle of the sea to help them. I wonder how long it took to walk three miles when you’re walking on water. Are you floating without effort? Clearly, it’s a mystical experience but one that lives in our culture. Walking on water is the epitome of being supernatural. None of us can do it. Even Peter tried and failed. (Mark doesn’t talk about Peter in this gospel. He’s not a fan of Peter so he rarely mentions him.)
In our second reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she says that we live by revelation. She tells us to never become smug, thinking we know all the answers. Otherwise, we forget to question. And questioning is the way of faith. As youngsters, we were taught to never question. What good did that do? It led us to remain as children in our faith. We need to question and wonder and imagine. That enlivens our faith and helps us to grow.
So, as we ponder simple verses that are not simple at all, once we unpack them, let us marvel at the power of scripture to cause us to wonder, to put ourselves in the shoes/sandals of the disciples, to imagine what it was like to be in that boat—the fear and desperation. And then, crying out, to feel the huge relief to hear Jesus’ voice that says, “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”
Before this, the disciples’ hearts had been hardened. I wonder if they were softened by this event. Clearly, they could not deny the experience of being so lost and terrified. And then of how Jesus rescued them from the Sea.
Richard Neill Donovan, a theologian, writes that, “Jesus came to the disciples when the light was most needed and with his coming and self-revelation came the dawn. The dying down of the wind confirms the power of Jesus over the powers of chaos.”
Some want to compare this to the end times. That the fourth watch is symbolizing the end of the world when Jesus comes to save us all. That seems a bit drastic but I get it. We all want the reassurance that death is not the end. We choose to believe that the resurrection awaits us. It’s what we as Christians maintain. Death, darkness, chaos is not the final word.
Let us anchor today’s gospel in our hearts as a reminder of God’s care for us. Life is difficult. It is our faith that helps to keep us afloat and alive.
Amen. Amen.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time: July 11, 2021
First Reading: Taken from Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen.
“Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”
The words of a spiritual writer and humble priest.
Thanks be to God.
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:7-13, 30-34
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
As you heard, we replaced our first reading with a reading on compassion. It’s written by Henri Nouwen, a beloved author of mine who was much like a mentor to me (unbeknownst to him). I chose this reading because it’s how our gospel ends, with Jesus showing compassion for the throngs of people who need his help. Yes, he needed rest, as did his disciples, but the needs of the people overrule. Compassion lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry.
My relationship with Henri Nouwen, as a reader of his works, was foundational to my theology and my spirituality. In the early 1980’s I first read Henri’s book, “With Open Hands” where he gives the very powerful image of living with open hands rather than clenched fists, always grasping for what we want, holding tightly onto control (which is the great illusion). It was the first time that I heard the Gospel through a spiritual author’s voice. And I was hooked. To this day, I’ve used that image of “open hands” with patients who are so anxious for what they want, what they need to have happen. Gently, I’ve opened my hands to invite them to try to be open to what will be, encouraging them to do the same. It’s such an easier way to live. But we humans need to learn the lesson again and again—and again.
The same is true of those in authority. Kings, queens, bosses, CEOs, even heads of household—all who have power often misuse it, to the detriment of all others. Which is probably why Jesus speaks about it so often. He is trying to encourage these leaders to use love and mercy as the basis of relationship with others, regardless of their position of power. When we have open hands, we have a readiness to give and receive—both essential when dealing with others. But for those in power, they often have anything but open hands! They rule with an iron fist, with little care for others. Our previous president loved his power. He may have to pay for that at some point. We can only hope that the justice system will work, eventually.
In our gospel today, Jesus is sending out his disciples to heal and preach the gospel. They go “two by two” which I believe is the foundation of Christianity. Christianity requires two. Unlike Buddhism or many other religions, being Christian means that you have to be in relationship with others. Some try to ignore this aspect of our faith but it’s almost impossible to practice being a Christian alone. Yes, we have our spiritual practices but even those are relational. Prayer is between God and us. It’s fostering a connection, an awareness that there is more than just me. Jesus wants his disciples to model this awareness so he sends them out, two by two. And there’s great benefit for this as well. There’s safety, there’s the ability to debrief about events and there’s the reliability of having a partner. Most importantly, in relationship, there’s the practice of compassion—how are you? How can I be of help? What do you need that I can provide to grow as a disciple of Jesus? Compassion is essential to ministry.
Yesterday, my husband Dave mentioned that he’s been listening to various soliloquies from Shakespeare. One begins with, “The quality of mercy is not strain’d…” and I’d never heard it. It’s from the Merchant of Venice and Portia is the wise woman who is trying to influence the judge in a courtroom. She is disguised as a man, of course, since it was believed that women could never be that wise. She speaks these words:
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice.
There it is. The power of mercy in the hands of the powerful. Portia is saying that mercy is such a lofty quality, that it is mightiest in the mightiest and becomes a king, better than his crown. She is encouraging the men, specifically, the merchant to think wisely and compassionately, rather than being so vengeful. Shakespeare understands that the priority is always putting the focus on care and concern for another. Compassion is a better word, I believe, but not much used in that time. Jesus has compassion for the people in need and places their needs over his own. In other translations, the word “pity” is used. That’s placing the recipient in a lower position. Compassion keeps the relationship level—meaning that to understand how another is feeling, to feel with them, then causes us to react, to respond in a way that demonstrates we get how they are feeling and we feel compelled to help, to be of service. That’s true compassion. And that’s the difference between empathy and compassion. Empathy is good; a feeling of care for another but it’s compassion that adds the element of service.
Shakespeare is a master of feeling and notes that mercy or compassion is an attribute “to God himself.” This reflects an understanding of God that is much deeper than simply the “all-powerful, almighty One.” Rather, it’s an element of care that emphasizes relationship. God cares enough to show mercy. Would that we could do the same to all others. This is why, at Full Circle, we try not to use words of hierarchy such as “Lord” and “almighty.” It’s an effort to shift the focus from the love of power to the power of love.
We are different than other faith communities. We are intentional in hearing the message of Jesus to live in love. Compassion is a core tenet which is why “following the rules” doesn’t always work for us. Let us try be aware when compassion is not the focus of decisions and laws. Jesus would want those laws changed or broken because they are not laws based in love but in power. Notice when that challenge is part of your life. We so want to be right, to win the argument, to convince. When done in love, there is the possibility for change. Only with open hands do we invite God to be part of the process for change. We open our hearts as we open our hands to how God can help to change the love of power to the power of love in our own lives. May compassion rule our lives as we seek to live as true Christians.
Amen.
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time June 27, 2021
The Richness of Life Nick Smith
On Thursday, June 24, 2021, an apartment building in the Surfside area of Miami, Florida, collapsed. The death toll has risen, and 159 people remain unaccounted for. When I first saw the pictures on TV, I was shocked. It’s a difficult thing to imagine—having the place where you live suddenly collapse upon you. I was shocked even more that evening.
I play in a two-man match play golf league on Thursday nights, and while waiting for my partner to arrive, I heard the following comments from some of the other golfers: “The CIA blew it up to kill the president of Venezuela. Just a bunch of welfare whores anyway. Those illegals come up here and then sneak in all their relatives. Serves them right. They got a better place to live then I do, and I work for a living. The whole place was full of illegal Mexicans living off my taxes—I don’t get no rent assistance.” There was a lot more said, but you get the picture. I bit my tongue until I couldn’t take it anymore. I basically told them that they were nuts and pretty darned heartless concerning all those poor souls caught in this tragedy, except I wasn’t very diplomatic about it. I do remember saying: “There but for the grace of God go I.” A couple of the guys just laughed, and one pointed out that I was the man with the bible golf balls—I mark my golf balls with Lk 15:32, which is the last line of the parable of the prodigal son: “This one was lost but now is found.” I’ve actually been troubled, upset and in a bad mood ever since. How could anyone be so callous toward other people?
This event reminded me of Jesus’ response to a collapsed building in his own time. In the gospel of Luke, chapter 13, some people told Jesus about a group of Galileans who had come to the temple to sacrifice, and Pontius Pilate slaughtered them. I don’t know the motivation for relating this story to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is interesting: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13: 2–3). Jesus continues the conversation by mentioning another event, this one involving the tower of Siloam: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:4–5).
In commenting on the fall of the tower of Siloam, Jesus negates four assumptions that people often make: Suffering is proportional to sinfulness, tragedy is a sure sign of God’s judgment, bad things happen only to bad people, and we have the right to make such judgments. To each of these assumptions, Jesus says, no. When we see a tragedy, we should resist the temptation to assign guilt to the victims, as if they had received God’s judgment. Rather, Jesus asks us to look within ourselves and take the tragedy as an opportunity for self-examination, not an occasion for blame.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I should probably turn to today’s readings. They collectively demonstrate God’s plan for us. God wants us to experience life in all its richness and fullness. God desires that we live. Death is not the primary plan for people. True life is experienced when we put our trust and faith in God.
In the First Reading, the Wisdom writer reminds us that God created us for Life, imperishable. We are made infinite, in the image of God’s own nature. The Book of Wisdom proclaims that it is God’s will that we live forever. That is the way God planned it from the very beginning. “God created all things that they might be, that they might live. The generative forces of the world are wholesome; there is no poison in them. The dominion of Hades is not on earth, for justice is undying.”
God wants us to be happy. God desires that we share in the richness and fullness of life. This is, and always has been, God’s plan for us. Paul writes to the people of Corinth informing them that God’s plan, through Jesus, is that we all share in the richness of divine life by sharing what earthly wealth we have with those who have less, experiencing the richness of God. Paul wants the people of Corinth to continue to experience the graciousness of God as manifested in the fullness of life which they receive in and through the ministry of Jesus. They have truly been blessed with the richness of divine life. God, through Jesus, has allowed them to receive the greatest gifts of God, not because they deserve it, but because God is richly gracious. The response to the wealth of graces they have received from God, through the acts of Jesus, is that they must share not only their spiritual richness but even their physical wealth, particularly with those who do not have as much.
In today’s gospel, the story of the hemorrhaging woman is sandwiched between two parts of another story involving the healing of another woman. In the larger story, a synagogue leader, Jairus, entreats Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and it is on his way to Jairus’s house that he is encountered by the bleeding woman. After the hemorrhaging woman is healed, someone reports that Jairus’s daughter has died, but Jesus insists on seeing her anyway, and commanding her to get up, which she does. This larger narrative, though hinging on a female character, is still taking place in a man’s world. The patriarchal environment is evidenced by the girl’s complete passivity—indeed, she is dead. This story paints a plain picture of the patriarchal setting in which the story of the hemorrhaging woman takes place. The fact that the larger story shares similarities with the smaller one—that it is also a healing narrative and that it also involves a woman—makes the smaller story of the hemorrhaging woman stand out even more as unique for the ways the woman defies gender challenges and expectations.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the patriarchal challenge of her uncleanness is to reach out and touch Jesus anyway. Whereas, presumably, the expectation would be for her to keep her unclean hands to herself and not jeopardize the cleanness of a man, she nevertheless touches Jesus’s cloak, certain that it will be the key to her healing. Indeed, it seems that rather than the woman’s uncleanness transferring to Jesus, Jesus’s power, his holiness, his wholeness, perhaps, actually transfers to the woman. Verse 30 says that Jesus was “aware that power had gone forth from him.” There is no mention of his being tainted or receiving any curse, but rather his own power flows outward. The woman takes this power from him for her own needs, but Jesus is not angry with her. He affirms the faith that empowered her to do it.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the expectation of passivity is to turn it on its head. This portion of the story is a clear distinction and departure from the overarching male/female, passive/active framework. The bleeding woman is the active agent, and Jesus the male savior is the passive recipient. In the rest of Mark, and indeed most of the Gospel accounts, Jesus is the person doing things—traveling, healing, speaking. He is the savior and the main character, after all. To interrupt the Jesus narrative with a story centering on a woman is no small thing. What’s more, it is not simply that the story centers the woman as an active agent, but also that Jesus occupies the passive role. This counter-cultural swap pushes against the patriarchal assumption of women as inactive objects, and it is affirmed and solidified by Jesus’s response to the woman once she explains to him the truth behind what she has done.
Jesus’s inactivity during much of this narrative serves as a foil to highlight the agency of the woman. Jesus is the object, rather than the subject: the woman heard about him, and came up behind him, and touched him. Power had gone forth from him. The woman falls down before him and tells him what happened. Characterizing the woman as the active agent of this gospel rather than Jesus makes Jesus out to be less of a forceful wielder of power, and more the source of empowerment for others. Rather than calling on Jesus to exercise the strength and power expected of a Messiah, the woman’s faith in Jesus empowers her to enact her own healing. This empowerment reminds us that Jesus the Messiah is not the strongman Messiah but rather the Messiah who gives up his power, letting it flow out of him to others.
After the hemorrhaging woman has confronted and defied the patriarchal challenges of being unclean, overlooked, untouchable, and passive, Jesus blesses her: “Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Rather than condemnation for resisting the norms of patriarchal society, the woman receives congratulations for the strength of her faith. Rather than punishment for her audacity, the woman receives praise. Ultimately it is her faith that drives her to disregard the conventions and expectations of society in favor of taking responsibility and ownership of her own body and doing what she knew she had to do to be made well. The faith that Jesus praises is not a faith that submits to patriarchy, but one that resists it. This faith is one that strives to experience life in all its richness and fullness.
To read the story of the hemorrhaging woman that resists patriarchy and celebrates women’s agency is to read a story of female empowerment and affirmation of that empowerment by the Divine. It is to recognize that the oppression of women—that which keeps them marginalized and keeps them sick and suffering—is not compatible with the message and mission of Jesus, that is, love and the fullness of life. What is compatible with the message and mission of Jesus is faith, as exemplified by the hemorrhaging woman. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to seek out Jesus, whatever the cost, rather than heed the ways of the world. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to take control of her own destiny rather than have it dictated to her. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to assert her agency in her life rather than remain a passive recipient.
The story of the woman with the issue of blood is a story of empowerment for women. It’s a story that says, despite the patriarchal mandate for women to obey, submit, and behave, that women can and should take ownership of their lives and advocate for their needs—taking what they need, if necessary—and that this initiative is blessed by the divine. The hemorrhaging woman, who lives in a society that won’t even give her the dignity of a name, nevertheless takes her life, her health, and her faith into her own hands. Ultimately, this text empowers all of us to lay claim to and take charge of our own lives, experiencing life in all its richness and fullness because that is what God desires for us.
PENTECOST MAY 23, 2021
By Nick Smith
Pentecost, the “birthday of Christianity,” celebrates God’s sending of the Holy Spirit, which created understanding and unity among the early followers of the risen Christ. When the Holy Spirit finally came on the day of Pentecost, God made no distinction based on sex. Women received the Holy Spirit in the very same way as the men. "There appeared to them tongues as of fire, being distributed and resting on each of them" (Acts 2:3). Please note that God did not distribute blue tongues and pink tongues. The tongues of fire that sat upon Mary Magdalene and the women were no different than the tongues of fire that sat upon Peter, James, and John.
I’m thankful that Pentecost is here. I’m darn good and ready for a mighty wind to blow through the Roman Catholic Church and wake up some of the bishops and humble them a little bit—wake them up and change a few hearts for the good. After all, the job of Sophia Wisdom is to shake us up, not make us comfortable. The Holy Spirit comes on the wind, and brings fire, and brings action. I think it’s action that we need right now; at least, I’d like to see some action toward justice and equality, and spiritual acceptance and renewal. The church today needs a new Pentecost—one that renews the Holy Spirit for ALL believers.
When the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples were all together in one place. Who were the disciples gathered there? Here is what Luke says in the Acts of the Apostles: “Then the disciples returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk[c] from the city. 13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew; James, son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas, son of James. 14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. 15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a group numbering about a hundred and twenty) 16 and said, “Brothers and sisters,[d] the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus.”
Now, I find this to be most interesting. Jesus leaves the earth and charges his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them. After the roll call of the male disciples, Acts says this: “All of them were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, along with the women and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.”
Well, Howdy Doody looky here. Who are all these women, presumably too numerous to name? I mean, if it were just Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene, wouldn’t the author have simply named them? And if all the male disciples are named, and the number of believers is 120 people, could it be that most of the crowd were also unnamed women, making the majority of the first believers in Jesus Christ, women? Isn’t it interesting that the contemporary church still models these early ratios—where women seem to be the overwhelming majority of believers?
Furthermore, “ALL OF THEM [not just the men] were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages.” You see, the Holy Spirit didn’t discriminate; instead, the Holy spirit breaks apart cultural assumptions about who can receive the spirit and who can preach it, as Peter himself reminds the crowd of the words the prophet Joel spoke: “…God declares that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” Wow! You mean women as well as men can preach and teach the gospel of Jesus.
Now, all believers, men, and women, have direct access to God through Jesus Christ. Now the old laws have passed away allowing continual freedom of worship for both man and woman in the fellowship of the congregation. Pentecost instituted the priesthood of all believers—there are no barriers between male and female in Christ. They both receive redemption in Christ, the gift of the Spirit, and the revelation of the truth. Both are equally God's witnesses testifying God’s truth.
The women who came out of the upper room were a powerful force in early Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that Saul of Tarsus, in his persecution of the church, targeted both men and women. Luke says, "But Saul ravaged the church, entering house by house and dragging out both men and women and committing them to prison" (Acts 8:3).
Although the Catholic Church states a doctrinal argument of tradition against women preaching, teaching and exercising leadership in the church, Jesus made it clear that such opposition is rooted in a hard heart. For example, when He appeared to the 11, after appearing first to Mary Magdalene and the women, He rebuked them for not believing the women's testimony. Mark says, "Afterward He appeared to the eleven as they sat at supper, and He reprimanded them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they did not believe those who had seen Him after He had risen" (Mark 16:14).
As we celebrate Pentecost and remind ourselves of the joy that is the gift of the Holy Spirit, let’s also recognize the presence of women during this occasion when the spirit came upon the very first disciples of Jesus. These un-named women were present at the cross, witnessed Jesus breathe his last, and present at the resurrection, when Jesus’ breath came back. They were present at Pentecost and received the Holy Spirit, Sophia Wisdom, as disciples of Christ; thus, they were prophesying, and prophesy is not telling the future but inspired instruction for the improvement of a person morally and intellectually.
The Church has a long way to go in unwrapping the hypocrisy of tradition developed over the last two thousand years. It needs the strong wind—a real storm—of the Holy Spirit to shake up the patriarchal bastions of religion and return to the roots of Christian faith founded in equality, acceptance, and love. We will be picking up the debris from this storm for an exceptionally long time, and we may be left with little more than God’s grace upon which to rebuild going forward but rebuild we will. We must.
Today's church cannot continue to marginalize women and expect to see a new Pentecost. I am convinced that if we are to see a new earthshaking outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our day, we must open our doors and our hearts to the gifts and callings of the women in our midst. Maybe we won’t live to see what new paths will be revealed after the wind has settled, but Jesus told us that God’s grace is enough. All we have to do is figure out how to cooperate with it for God’s purposes, right? Let’s hope and pray that we’ll be able to do that.
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Mother’s Day 2021
First Reading: Writings from Julia Ward Howe
Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts. Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
The Words of a Wise Woman.
Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: First Letter of John 4: 7-10a, Gospel Reading: John 15: 9-15, 17
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Each of us has an inner child. We talk about nurturing our inner child to refer to self-care and self-compassion. This “child” is an essential part of who we are, a core self that endures well into adulthood, if not for the rest of our lives. And that’s a good thing. The inner child is that part of us that yearns to be cherished, held, loved for who we are. Any good mother does all of these things: gently reminding us through their actions that we are okay, that we are not alone, and that we will be loved for all eternity. All people are capable of being mothers. Some do it far better than biological mothers. There’s no training or certification. Some of it is innate, some of it is “luck of the draw” based on the mothers who mothered our own.
This being mothered serves as the basis for relationship throughout our lives. Just as we have been loved, so we love others. We recognize how significant it is to “love one another” as Jesus encourages us to do. Perhaps this goes back to our origins. In our mother’s wombs, we were physically part of another human being, fully dependent on her for our very existence. That may explain why we are so relational, so in need of connection. Ubuntu is the African belief that I am because you are, a profound belief that we cannot exist without others. That truth, if embraced, could change our world in significant ways, if we would truly live it. I am because you are; the ultimate mothering instinct.
Ancient mythology portrays the goddess of fertility as the source of all life. This goddess has been adored since the beginning of awareness in humans. Back then, the feminine was the higher being, not the lesser one. The being who could create new life was seen as essentially the key to all existence. No wonder that goddess was honored. Without new life, creation is stagnant and eventually all life dies out. We rely on the cycle of birth, life and death. It’s part of the moon and its mystery. And it’s part of womanhood.
Then, we read in Genesis that man was first. Woman was created from man and is thereby lesser. (Even though there is a creation story in Genesis that reports that both male and female were created at the same time. That story is rarely told.) Ever since, we as women have been trying to reclaim our role as equals, as valid in our own right. RCWP is an extension of this, as we seek to bring equality to our Church, a church who lifts up Mary as so very important.
As part of this struggle, I believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus served a vital role. We, our inner child, needed gentleness, nurturing, those feminine qualities that heal and empower. So, as Catholics we were taught to pray to Mary, the intercessor. I remember May crownings with bunches of purple lilacs in hand, carrying Mary in procession around a high school race-track with faithful Catholics singing from the stands, “Hail Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death.” That was called a “Rosary Rally” where we said the rosary, a full meditation to Mary, the Mother of our God. No wonder Protestants thought we worshipped Mary! My parents have led a Marian group for over 50 years. There will be a monthly mass (if a priest is able to attend) and for sure a rosary will be said, led by my mother, most of the time. They will discuss having a booth at the Ohio State Fair where rosaries (that us 8 kids made) and pamphlets with scapulars will be given out for free. Even now, a 4-foot statue of Mary stands in their TV room on a pedestal. She is ever-present and has been the recipient of many a novena, said during life for various wants or needs. Dave and I have our very own statue of Mary that we received for our wedding from my parents. Just what any young couple most needs, right?
Once, when I was about ten, we traveled to Garabandal, a little town in northern Spain where Mary was reported to have appeared to children. We knew the story well. When we arrived in Garabandal, my mother fell to her knees weeping. That made quite an impression on me and my siblings. We lived the belief in Mary on a daily basis. Finally, we attended all night vigils on the first Saturday of every month—even into high school. I wore my scapular until I attended graduate school at Boston College. It took me that long to begin thinking on my own about my very Catholic beliefs.
As an adult, I’ve come to understand Mary as representing the feminine God. I believe that she has helped balance a patriarchal God who was seen as judge, authority, Lord. With Mary, we learned to love an “associate” of God who was more kind, calmer, gentle and loving. For me, she is the Mother God to whom we now pray. I also claim a grandmother God because that image is of my own grandma who laughed and teased and was so much less formal about her faith. She was plump and loved to bake delicious pound cakes and cheesecakes. When I think of her, she is always in the kitchen chopping carrots that she called golden pennies. That’s the image of God who I can relate to, who makes me feel wholly loved.
This Mother’s Day, I encourage you to reclaim your understanding of Mary. Could she be what Mother God is for us? Can we all nurture a fuller belief in a God who has no gender? God is all—more than we can imagine. Yet, we as human beings need to begin somewhere. Mothers are a powerful way to try to expand on who God is for us; loving us, holding us, caring for our every need so that we might become all that we are meant to be. Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have been mothers to us. Happy Mother’s Day to those of us who help to mother others. Amen.
What is your image of Mother God? Who have been mothers to you?
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.
33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time November 14, 2021
Gospel: Mark 13: 1 - 32 by Nick Smith
In today’s Readings our attention is directed to matters related to the end of the world. We are encouraged to pay attention to what’s going on around us and to be prepared to be accountable to God for our choices, individually and as a human family. Other biblical readings often include “the Signs of Armageddon” warning us about false teachers, wars and insurrections, nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes, famines and plagues, deterioration of families, and hatefulness. Human accountability to God at the End of the World is a familiar biblical theme. Many believe that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have already been unleashed. These beings ride out on white, red, black, and green [pale] horses causing destruction, chaos, and death upon the earth.
These readings reminded me of two of my favorite quotes from literature. The first, from Macbeth by William Shakespeare, is spoken by Macbeth after learning that his wife, Lady Macbeth, is dead: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
The second quote comes from the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens where he characterizes his time with these words: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
Perhaps Dickens and Shakespeare’s characterization is relevant for us today. Read the paper, listen to the radio, or watch a television newscast. Disaster is all around us—floods, storms, fires, derechos, riots, wars, hurricanes, covid 19, terrorism, ISIS, murder, droughts, pollution, falsehoods—the list goes on and on. It is easy for us to conclude that gloomy biblical “Signs of the End” typify our human condition. What can we do about the perennial bad news that permeates our everyday lives? Are our efforts merely sound and fury, signifying nothing? Are we truly tossed between a spring of hope and a winter of despair?
I’m not suggesting that we throw up our hands and give up when it comes to our collective world ills. I believe that we should rise up and develop remedies in both private and public sectors that require our institutions to transfigure dehumanizing processes into honorable and Godly enterprises. The Roman Catholic Synod is a good starting place in attempting a change—a reform—to dehumanizing institutions. Saying you’re a Catholic Christian is not enough.
So, rather than accept the trials and turbulations of our personal and communal life as inevitable, we should do something. Rather than simply hope that “somebody will do something,” we should do something. We know that most of us suffer our own injustices: our personal derechos, including family and friendship crisis, money worries, illness, and family loss. Yes, despair and darkness—biblical “signs of the end”—have afflicted many nations; but also, many individuals. So many people have learned to view live with a pessimistic eye.
What I dislike are the modern-day prophets who smile and simply pretend that there is no darkness in our world. They suggest that if we follow “their way” life will be great, and all our cares and concerns will melt away. Bah Humbug, [another Dickens quote] I say. The gospel of Jesus the Christ acknowledges the darkness. Jesus experienced human darkness in all its forms from His birth to His death. He was persecuted, ridiculed, humiliated, and executed. He was economically poor; and yet, immensely rich. He was crucified; and yet, even overcame that! He experienced darkness; and yet, His life and ministry revealed the light amid the evils of His time.
Rather than succumbing to “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,” or “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” we should look to the hope and light of Jesus Christ. To those who accept Jesus’ invitation to true life, there is hope among woeful realities. In Jesus, each day becomes a new light in our lives, not a day closer to Armageddon. The current ups and downs may offer us small and sometimes exceptional occasions to grow in faith and wisdom and share in affection for one another.
We can choose to walk in the light of “the way” established by Jesus, or we can choose to give in to hopeless darkness, living unproductively on the sidelines waiting for the end. We can accept today’s defects in the world, or we can use them as motivators to transfigure our institutions and ourselves. God will hold us accountable for our responses; in the end God’s will shall be done. Along the way, as we struggle for righteousness, we can endure, and we will overcome!
30th Sunday of Ordinary Time October 28, 2021
Mark 10: 46-52 By Nick Smith
In Jesus’ time, the blind, together with cripples and lepers, were outcasts of society and kept quarantined outside the city limits. In the eyes of the ancient Hebrews the maimed, and especially the blind, were thought to possess a debased character because of the prevailing notion that bodily defects were a punishment for sins they committed or the sins of their parents. People afflicted with physical ailments were treated as outcasts and marginalized as persons outside of the society.
How does Jesus interact with the outcasts of his time? In today’s gospel, Jesus, his professed followers, and a bunch of other people come across Bartimaeus as they are leaving the city. He is blind. He has no way to make a living beyond begging, given his physical captivity. He is “hidden” in plain sight, a normal, accepted, if tragic part of the city’s landscape. You might recall that Jesus healed one blind man as he entered Jericho, then last week, as Jesus and the disciples passed through the city, James and John asked to be seated on Jesus’ right and left when he came into his glory. In each case, Jesus attempts to explain to his inner core of followers just what the kin-dom of heaven is like and what is about to happen for the salvation of the world. No one seems to understand, so Jesus tries a third time to reveal “the way” to his followers.
Bartimaeus senses that real help might be near, so he takes a chance and makes a scene by calling out to Jesus. First, he calls him Jesus (from the Hebrew name, Joshua, meaning Liberator). Then he calls Jesus “Son of David;” that’s King David, the ruler of God’s people charged with the task of creating a just political and economic system for the people.
There is no justice, of course, without mercy, so Bartimaeus calls out for mercy. None is to be found. He is not just overlooked but is vehemently dismissed and told to shut up. Bartimaeus, with nothing left to lose, decides not to shut up this time but calls out a second time even louder. Jesus stops. He makes his disciples get involved by having them interact with the blind man. Bartimaeus can’t believe it — he throws off his cloak and springs up. Jesus directly asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”—the same question he asked James and John.
Look at what Bartimaeus wants—his sight. But notice the difference between what he wanted and what James and John wanted. He wants to be a fully accepted, respected member of society who is treated with dignity, a man eligible to enter the holy places, who belongs there without apology. James and John want power, importance, and authority in the coming Kin-dom of God. Bartimaeus simply wants to be a member. Thanks to Jesus; Bartimaeus is able to articulate his dream to someone who actually treats him as fully human. And when Bartimaeus does this, he participates in his own liberation, for Jesus declares, “Your faith has made you well.” James and John could have asked for the same sight – or insight - into Jesus’ coming Kin-dom, but they do not; in fact, not one of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples ever asks for clarification or insight. They are not “liberated” in their understanding until after Jesus has risen from the dead.
I can’t help but wonder if it was the listening, the understanding, and the interaction that honored the human dignity of Bartimaeus that brought healing. Jesus doesn’t even touch him. Bartimaeus’ eyes are opened, and he becomes a true follower of “the Way.” Jesus treats Bartimaeus in a just way—with compassion, dignity, and love.
With Bartimaeus’ story in my mind, I am struck by the many connections to today’s world and today’s marginalized people. No one wishes to be marginalized any more than they wish to be a blind beggar. Does today’s gospel insinuate that even if we can’t fix all the problems within our society, it’s still worth stopping to help one person? Is there room for both helping an individual and critiquing and reforming an entire social system that sees no incentive in investing in the marginalized? Is this text calling us to do something even in a small way to help the marginalized of our society?
Once Bartimaeus is healed, he follows Jesus. It would appear that Bartimaeus joined in on the healing ministry of Jesus and became another bearer of good news—the last disciple.
If we want to be agents of good news too, we will need to relate to other people in a just way. Do we participate in exploiting our neighbor, even in small, seeming insignificant ways, or do we do what we can to assist those outside the mainstream of our world?
This gospel reveals the ethical interaction we should have with others—following Jesus-style:
Seek the good of the other person first, not your own selfish satisfaction
Engage the other with the deepest respect for their human dignity
Get involved
Get others involved
Liberate the other with compassion, dignity, and love.
We can certainly do this. What would it look like for us to interact with our neighbors in a way that is ethical? I think today’s gospel helps us see how Jesus interacted with and treated social outcasts. And I also feel that today’s gospel directs us to do an extremely easy thing when it comes to our faith and understanding of the Kin-dom—just ask. We should be like Bartimaeus and ask for what we truly need, not power, authority, or importance, but common human dignity and insight into “the way” of Jesus the Christ.
28th Sunday of Ordinary Time-October 10, 2021
Homily: Mark 10:17-31 Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Today’s gospel is disturbing for those of us who live a life of being well-off. If it’s truly easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven, we’re in trouble. We’ve never known hunger or lack of shelter or risk of driving while black. Are we all doomed? Are we “unfit” for heaven? Before we believe that we are a lost cause, there are three important points to consider.
First, from this reading, we might assume that all those who are not rich are going to heaven; that, somehow, it’s easier for those without wealth to be heaven bound. That is not a given. So too, those of us who are rich are not automatically unable to get into heaven. Getting to heaven is not a clear path. We all strive to be good and loving towards others. Sometimes, it’s those closest to us that can be the most difficult to love. Love is complicated, full of risks and rarely a simple one act every now and then. Living a life of love is learned and challenged each step of the way. How we respond to these challenges reflects our heart and our hope.
Certainly, if we become complacent because of being rich, that is perhaps the worse way of living a life. I remember an animated movie called “Wall-e” where everything is so roboticized, so automated, that people simply lay in recliners and everything is brought to them. Talk about complacency. Possessions can bring joy and comfort—cars, A/C, our big screen TV. These are common assets that we often take for granted. The real question is, do these items prevent us from living with a passion for others who suffer? Do they isolate us from what is happening around us, especially to the cries of the poor? Realizing that we are truly blessed to be white, to live in privilege should cause us to reach out all the more to those in need. Our recent winter clothing drive might demonstrate this. What’s crucial to consider is what effect our possessions have on us. Do they make us proud? Self-righteous? Or humble and deeply grateful?
Secondly, I’ve always found it curious that we are taught do good deeds for the “points” we get in return. When we were young, many of us followed that point system. Whenever I helped someone, my true focus was on the reward I might get. It’s a very self-serving way of being in relationship; furthering my own path to heaven under the guise of being good and generous towards others. As adults, have we learned to do good despite the reward? Can we care less about what’s in it for us and more about how we might show compassion to those in need? Then, our acts of love are truly unconditional deeds that may transform our hearts and eventually, our world.
Third, those who are considered first on earth may, in faith, NOT be favored in heaven. Which makes me wonder, what is heaven? A reward station where everyone gets paid for what they’re worth? I don’t think so. We have only a limited way of understanding what’s next. Once, when I was working with pediatric kids who had cancer, a 4-year-old asked me about heaven. As I fumbled to find a way to explain it, he suddenly said, “You mean, like another dimension?” That very adult wording comes close to helping us appreciate that heaven is probably very different from our ideas of fluffy clouds and pretty flowers. Heaven is the next step, the next dimension in growing to become a loving being. If that’s heaven, then, who’s first and who’s last are the wrong questions. We need to understand that the hereafter is not simply a reward station. That way of thinking may be motivating for children—the basic gold star, behavior modification program. For us adults, we should be able to see beyond such simplistic ways of thinking and behaving.
This past week, we watched Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a classic story—one where the main character, Tevia, talks to God throughout his day and often shouts, “Tradition” as justification for how things should be. When his three daughters challenge this, Tevia struggles to maintain a sense of identity without the usual traditions. He is so attached to his routine way of doing things that change causes him to question everything. Tevia believes that through hierarchical order, laws and tradition, we know who we are and “what God expects of us.” Would that it could be that simple!
Life and the afterlife are mysteries. We do our best to figure out these ambiguities and live a life in keeping with God’s creative effort. Often, in my work, I ask patients who are dying if they believe or hope in something next. Most all of them say that they do, some don’t. But the universal hope is to be reunited with loved ones, those who have died before them whom they long to see. There’s nothing about hierarchy, who’s first, what’s my reward. None of that. That’s because we are people driven, much more than reward driven. We are meant to engage and be in relationship with others. It makes sense that we hope that continues as part of “paradise.”
Perhaps the afterlife is a time when those who love us gather in a circle around us, to greet us and to help us review what our life has meant. No thrones or authorities to point fingers of judgement at us. Just a simple circle of love. And then, with God’s blessing, perhaps we take on new responsibilities. Maybe we are to help those suffering from guilt or loneliness, those who haven’t been able to learn how love works.
Today, I invite us to release fears of heaven and whether we are worthy to enter.Instead, try to name what your legacy is.What is your unique contribution to the world?How do you most hope to be remembered?That’s much more important than worrying about how good we’ve done and if we’ll get enough rewards after we die.Let’s focus more on caring for others regardless of how it benefits us. Then, we will change the world as we co-create with our loving God. Amen.
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time 9-26-21
God’s Gifts of Grace Nick Smith
Today’s readings center around the concept of grace-gifts from God, and “as each has received a gift,” we are to “use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” We are given these gifts for the progress and joy of one another’s faith. Our spiritual gifts enable us to effectively share God’s love with others and make our own unique contribution to God’s Kin-dom. These gifts are neither for you, nor about you. They are not given to bolster your self-image or to serve as a “special” reward from God because of your righteousness. They are not given to raise you up to some level of worldly greatness or success. No, they are yours for the express purpose of building up the Kin-dom of heaven. They are not personality traits, natural talents, or fruits of the spirit; these are God’s contribution to our character, but our spiritual gifts are the contribution we make to God’s Kin-dom. So, what are spiritual gifts? They are a God-given special ability, given to every believer, to share their love and to strengthen the body of Christ through service to each other.
First Reading: The brothers prayed
In the first reading, we have the fulfilment of God's word to Moses, that he should have help in the government of Israel. God gave the Holy Spirit to the seventy elders. They discoursed to the people of the things of God, so that all who heard them might say, that God was truly with them.
Two of the elders [Eldad and Medad, Moses’ half-brothers] were not selected in the lottery, but the Spirit of God found them, and they exercised their gift of prayer, preaching, and praising God; they spoke as moved by the Spirit. Joshua wants Eldad and Medad silenced from their prophesying, but Moses stops him, saying that we should not reject those whom God has chosen, or restrain any from doing good, because they are not in everything of our minds. Moses wishes that all of God’s people were prophets, that God would place the Spirit within every person.
Second Reding: God’s people pray for grace-gifts
In the second reading, Paul explains that all believers are given some gift of grace for the mutual help of the whole—the Church. These gifts are given to improve the situation and spiritual good of others. Here Paul lists five different spiritual gifts bestowed by Christ for the good of the church—Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, and Teachers. Apostles and Prophets have a foundational role in receiving and proclaiming the mystery of Jesus Christ. Evangelists are the church establishers. Pastors lead the church in day-to-day activities, and Teachers teach the word of God. These gifts are to benefit the church in its growth and maturity. Paul says that Christ gave these gifts to equip his people for works of service.
Every single believer in Jesus Christ has been given a gift for ministry (that's point one). Every church should have Christian leaders (that's part two). But their job isn't to do the ministry. It's to equip all the people in the church to do the work of ministry. That's part three. Paul said it perfectly in verse 16: the church will grow and build itself up in love "as each part does its work." The way that Paul says we will grow into maturity as a church is by tapping into the gospel, putting Christian leaders into place, and then allowing them to equip – to make sufficient and adequate – the believers for ministry.
Gospel Reading: Pray for God’s help
In today’s gospel reading, while Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James and John being transfigured, a man brought his son, who was possessed by a mute spirit. The man had asked Jesus’ disciples to drive the spirit out, but the men were unable to do so. When Jesus heard this, he said, “O faithless generation, how long will I be with you”? He then told the father to bring his son to Him. When the spirits saw Jesus, they immediately threw the boy into convulsions. The child fell to the ground, and he began to foam at the mouth. Jesus asked the father some questions about his son. Finally, the father said to Jesus: “If you can do anything, please have compassion on us. Please help him!” Jesus quietly said to the father, “’If you can!’ Everything is possible to those who have faith.” The father immediately cried out: “I do believe; help my unbelief.” Much to the crowd’s amazement, Jesus drew the unclean spirit out of the boy and pulled the boy to his feet.
The disciples had seen Jesus cast out demons. So, they gave it a shot. They may have uttered some words. They may have thought if they said the right thing in the right way the demon would come out. In other words, they tried magic. The scribes were successful in taunting them into doing something. And of course, they failed. The scribes then used that to say, “See Jesus is a fraud.” And an argument ensued. When the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.”
Conclusions: Pray for God’s will
Our nature does not change. We behave the same today as the people in the first century did. When we, or someone we know, experience a tragedy we try to help. We remember the words from the gospel of John, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in me. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
So, prayer must be the magic formula. To make things go our way, we have to learn how to pray. We are told to pray in Jesus’ name. (John 14:13) So, when we pray, we say, “in the name of Jesus,” like that was a magic phrase. When that does not make God obey us, we conclude we need to pray more. We need to pray harder
If that does not work, there must be something wrong in our lives. We try to be better. We try to do better, as if our behavior was a magical force. We treat our good behavior as a debt God must reward. When that does not work, we conclude we are missing the secret. When nothing works, we hold Christ up to ridicule. “See Christianity does not work. Christ is a fraud.”
Do you want to know the secret? Here it is. There is no secret. The demon obeyed Christ because of Christ’s authority. You don’t have any. When Christ said, “This kind can come out only by prayer.” He was saying, “Only God can do it. Pray to God and turn it over to God. The demons obey God, not you.” God is in charge. You are not. The problem with the disciples was that their faith was too little—the kind that trusts God when everything is going well. This is a faith that thrives because there is good health, wealth, and prosperity. It is easy to trust God when life is going well, but the true mark of faith is what happens when things are going wrong, your efforts fail, adversity rises, and tragedy strikes. How one responds is the true mark of faith.
Jesus’ promise that “nothing shall be impossible for you,” is not an open invitation for you to get whatever you want. Faith and prayer are always restricted to only that which is in the framework of God’s will, for that is the very nature of the faith as a mustard seed that Jesus is describing. Faith in itself can accomplish nothing. Faith must be in the proper object. It is the God in whom the faith is grounded that accomplishes the work.
The disciples wondered why they failed. Christ does not attribute their inability to unbelief. Nor does He say, God will give us everything we mention in prayer. Nothing is more at odds with faith than the foolish desires of our hearts.
Janis Joplin-Mercedes Benz(original) - YouTube
Janis Joplin
"Mercedes Benz"
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV?
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town?
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So, oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
That’s it.
Sept. 12, 2021 Homily (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Isaiah 50:4-9a
First Letter Peter 1:1b, 2-7d, 3:13-18
Mark: 8:27-37
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of 9/11. There were many commemorations, very moving stories of heroism and unity as a country. Where has all that gone? Here we are twenty years later, and we are so divided and angry. The flag used to represent unity. Now, it can make us cringe. How do we find a way forward?
In our first reading, Isaiah is speaking from the voice of the Messiah. This is one of the Servant Songs. In these, Isaiah tells us that the Messiah will suffer. There is strength and trust in this voice as it speaks truth to power. The Messiah stands firm amidst ridicule and suffering. We hear him say that “God is my helper, the One who Vindicates is near.” He stands and faces the enemy, certain that his fate is in God’s hands. It’s a voice that encourages us to trust as well, to not be afraid.
I still remember how fearful I was on that fateful day of 9/11. I happened to be at home in my bedroom, folding laundry on the bed and watching the news. As soon as I saw the plane hit the tower, I called Dave. He was working at the U and I told him to find a TV. Together we watched in horror. After both towers fell, I remember going to Hoover Elementary. I needed to see my boys; just to see them and make sure they were okay. There was no sense of trust. All Americans seemed at risk. We were united in our vulnerability.
In our second reading, Peter is writing to the early Christians to encourage them. This is during the time of the Dispersion, when Jews had to leave Palestine and live among the Gentiles. They must have been fearful. But, Peter offer encouragement. He tells them to “always be ready to explain the cause of their hope.” I can’t imagine doing that. I remember one 9/11 survivor saying that he was under the only desk that withstood destruction with his Bible on top. That’s its own form of evangelization. My license plate does some of that. It says “Womanpriest” but I never know what message is received. Peter is talking about real courage; the kind that challenges others, face to face. I’m much less ready for that.
And then we have Jesus in the Gospel, questioning the disciples. “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter gets it right. “You are the Christ.” This is a major declaration, one that earns him praise, since Jesus is pleased that they do get it. Perhaps they do understand who I am, he might’ve thought. But not for long.
For Peter, as for most of the disciples, wanted the Christ, the Messiah, to mean immediate military overthrow of the Romans, to mean that finally, the Jewish people would be in power. That longing to be on top would be achieved at last.
But Jesus knows differently. This gospel is the turning point. They leave Galilee and head towards Jerusalem. Jesus will confront those in power directly. His teachings will enrage and provoke them. They want their power. They enjoy having more in life, recognition, the Law, authority. Jesus tries to prepare the disciples.
But Peter reacts—strongly. No. Not you! Peter is now giving correction to Jesus whom he has just called Messiah. It’s a true affront, an insult. And, it makes Jesus is really angry. “Who are you to tell me what my path should be? Who are you to think you understand better than I do?” Jesus was hoping his disciples might recognize the role of suffering. But they don’t. They don’t want more suffering. They don’t want a leader who will be killed. And can you blame them? Who wants to die for their faith?
Suddenly, Jesus calls Peter, Satan. Peter goes from top disciple to Satan in one fell swoop. How disheartening. Such a confusing thing for this group of humans. “We found the Messiah! But he tells us the only way to WIN is to suffer and die. How is that a win?” Jesus is asking the disciples to trust him for a greater WIN—eternal life. That’s a tough concept for those living 2,000 years ago.
We have the benefit of being able to discern and ponder what Jesus has been teaching. We understand and trust that love IS the path, the only true path. We also understand the trappings of power. Most of us have learned that we continue to love, even when we’ve been hurt by our loved ones. That is so difficult, but we know to choose relationship over being “right.” This is the counter-intuitive nature of Jesus’ message—it’s not logical at all.
And yet, even with 2,000 years of learning, we too find it difficult to suffer for the right reason. Underlying today’s readings is a call to have courage. That’s not something I pray for much. I have confidence but do I have courage, the kind of courage to really talk and act on my faith?
Many stories from 9/11 are about self-sacrifice for the lives of others. Many NY police and firefighters gave their lives to help save others. They showed how these brave men and women were driving towards the Towers, not away from them, even after the North Tower fell. I have deep respect for that kind of love and service. Perhaps we can ask ourselves, Do we move towards situations that may require suffering for others or away from them?
We are privileged to have freedom of religion here in America so this is more challenging to ponder. What does our faith call us to do? How can we be courageous because of our faith? Peter says, “We now have an inheritance that cannot fail.” We do believe in eternal life. Is that enough? ________________________________________________________
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time August 22, 2021
Homily Nick Smith
I think this is the third time I’ve given a homily concerning the interaction between Jesus and a Canaanite [Syrophnician] woman. I think I’ve talked about both Mark and Matthew’s retelling of the story. As you know, this is the story where Jesus calls this woman a “Dog.”
Jesus has been preaching in Galilee and has been getting mobbed by the people after John the Baptist’s death. Pharisees come up from Jerusalem to see what’s going on, and they get into a heated debate with Jesus over washing hands before eating. So, Jesus decides to take a beach vacation to the Gentile city of Tyre. Somehow this Gentile woman of another ethnicity finds Jesus and asks him to cast a demon out of her daughter. She calls him “Lord” and “Son of David.” Jesus straight up ignores her. Her cries must have been obnoxious because Jesus’ disciples ask him to send her away. Jesus replies to them, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She knelt before him and asked for help. He replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Her response: “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Because of her strong argument and great faith, her daughter was healed.
The woman is focused on her end goal: getting help for her daughter. She doesn’t allow offensive behavior or words to derail her from this goal. The woman gives Jesus a strong argument to heal her daughter, and the daughter is healed.
The woman is an example of “love your enemies, bless them that curse you.”
The reason this story really resonates with me is the amazing example of this woman. She owned her desire for a blessing. She was determined. She was not intimidated by the voice of authority telling her no. She advocated for her daughter. And she did all this while still being incredibly humble. I particularly love how she cleverly retold and expanded Jesus’ parable of the dogs and the children: she used the retelling to give herself a seat at the table (even if it was under the table, with the expectation of scraps.) The way she shifted the perspective of the story provided a strong argument for healing her daughter.
On the other hand, this is a challenging scripture story because Jesus seems to show up on the “wrong” side of His own preaching. The answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?” generally does not include ignoring or belittling people. There are all sorts of explanations of Jesus’ behavior. Maybe he was testing her faith. Maybe he was testing his disciples to see if they thought he should break the mission rules and minister to someone who was not of “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Or maybe the human side of Jesus was still learning. Perhaps Jesus had yet to comprehend the full extent of his ministry. Perhaps he was still learning to see his own prejudice. I don’t know. Initially, the premise that Jesus could have been prejudiced made me uncomfortable but choosing to frame the story with this premise has helped me understand it in new ways.
It is not as easy for me to identify with Jesus in this story. There are so many questions I have about the motivations behind his actions. At some point though, I realized that if I want something in the church structure to change, I must join people who are willing to follow Jesus’ example in this story—people who are willing to change. If we assume that Jesus was prejudiced against the woman but was then willing to listen to her and change how he acted toward her, he shows personal growth and learning. I wonder, though, if we suppose that Jesus was ignorant of his prejudice against this woman until this moment, can it be counted as a change? Perhaps it should be counted as an awakening—one of those aha moments of sudden insight and discovery. Jesus does open his ministry to the gentiles right after this incident by feeding 4000 of them.
This actually gives me a good deal of hope, because I am still learning. I am still finding many parts of my mind that are ignorant and uninformed (not for lack of trying). And I hope I can change course as thoroughly and gracefully as Jesus did. Framing the story as one in which Jesus experiences growth humanizes him so that I can try to follow his example. This story then becomes a wonderful model of “when I know better, I do better.” Jesus didn’t just “do better” in this story, he continued to “do better” afterward.
I was reading a blog the other day explaining the earth’s ecosystem. On this planet there exist these biomes, where only one kind of ecosystem can thrive—grasslands, forests, terrestrial, deserts, aquatic, or something else. At the edges, called ecotones, are a diversity of species that cannot exists within the biomes. And while biomes are certainly very productive in nature, they are also fragile as they can be destroyed if a new species is introduced. The ecotones on the other hand are more flexible because of their diversity. The ecotones act as a region of transition between two habitats and are often richer in species than either ecosystem. A common example would be an area of marshland between a river and its riverbank.
Because of the gendered nature of organizational and ritual authority in the Roman Catholic Church, Catholicism is a male ecosystem, a monoculture that allows only men to thrive. I don’t believe the intent was to oppress women but to build up men; however, the effect of keeping women [and others] separated by placing them under the direction of the priesthood and the church hierarchy has been to lessen responsibility and opportunity for women.
This all-male ecosystem has a profound effect on women, however individual women respond to it. Women are forced to understand themselves from a man’s point of view. Within this monoculture, differing points of view become politicized into the “in group” or the “out group.” In other words, if you are a woman who thinks there are problems with the way women are treated in the Catholic Church, you are a faithless troublemaker, and if you are a woman that thinks there are no problems with the way that women are treated in the Church, you are pronounced to be righteous.
When an organization operates in a binary or monocultural mode, its framework excludes everyone who disagrees with it. The disagreements, however, do not necessarily stem from differences in belief, but differences in lived experiences and the way we negotiate those experiences with Church teaching and dogma. The Roman Catholic hierarchy looks at an ecosystem that was designed to help them thrive, and if they thrive, they see the ecosystem as divine—the way God ordained it. I look at the way this system benefits men at the expense of women and I have a difficult time seeing it as a reflection of God’s will. To create a church where leaders listen, acknowledge, and make space for everyone, including women, we need to transition away from the male monoculture. We should not fear women and men thriving together in a church with greater biodiversity
Sources
Malan, Paul. “Wetlands: The Future of Mormonism.” Medium. Accessed March 6, 2015. https://medium.com/@ungewissen/wetlandsthefutureofmormonismf1c1b3b62256.
Kaylee, Guest Post: “The Syrophoenician Woman is My Hero.” Medium. Accessed August 18, 2021. https://www.the-exponent.com/guest-post-the-syrophoenician-woman-is-my-hero/
Aug. 8, 2021
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Second Reading: Taken from “Walking on Water” by Madeleine L’Engle
We live by revelation, as Christians, as artists, which means we must be careful never to get set into rigid molds. The minute we begin to think we know all the answers, we forget the questions, and we become smug like the Pharisee who listed all his considerable virtues, and thanked God that he was not like other men.
Unamuno might be describing the artist as well as the Christian as he writes, "Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
The Words of a Wise Woman
Thanks be to God
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:45-52
Homily: Walking on Water
The amazing thing about scripture is that it has layers of meaning. One verse can be viewed in many different ways, depending on the author, the context and new findings that change the understanding of that verse.
Today, we are focusing on the theme of water, walking on water, to be specific. We are 60% water. Up to 60% of the human adult body is water. Our brain and heart are composed of 73% water, and the lungs are about 83% water. We are dependent on water for our very existence. And yet, in water, we are vulnerable. We cannot walk on water. We cannot breathe under water. So, water is both a threat and a necessity.
As we know, water is fast becoming a commodity that will be bought and sold in our lifetime. We take it so for granted, leaving the faucet on while brushing our teeth or rinsing the dishes or watering the yard. Water is essential to life. So, it is no coincidence that today’s Gospel is meant to teach us many lessons.
First of all, we remember our Gospel readings during the past week when we witnessed Jesus feed the multitudes, either truly multiplying loaves and fishes or by his gesture of love, encouraging the people to share their food with one another.
Today, Jesus sends the disciples into the boat to get to another town. He is the one to disperse the crowd and then goes off by himself to pray. Meanwhile, the disciples are wrestling with the sea. A mighty storm has come upon them, and they are battling the waves. It is noted that the Sea of Galilee gets very rough very easily. Winds come off the north and within minutes can stir up a horrible storm.
It has been estimated that the disciples were rowing for over nine hours. How do we know this? It’s because of the “watch” that is referred to in our reading. The watch is a period of time when one man was designated to stay awake and watch for any dangers during the night. Wolves, bandits, bad weather were constant threats. With a watchman, the others could sleep without worry or concern. A typical Jewish watch was only measured in three sessions: sunset to 10pm, then 10pm to 2am, then 2am to sunrise. Three 4-hour sessions. But after Roman rule, the watch was changed to four sessions. Sunset to 9pm, 9pm to midnight, midnight to 3am and 3am to sunrise. So, when Mark writes that it was the fourth watch of the night, we know it is within that 3am to 6am timeframe. The disciples must’ve been exhausted and greatly frustrated, fearful for their lives.
Such is life during times of crisis and chaos. We don’t know how much more we can take. Just when we think the waves might calm and we begin to hope, another wind comes up to crash the sea against our boat. Will we have the strength to survive?
During this 9-hour time-period, the disciples had rowed only about three miles. The Sea of Galilee is no more than six miles across at its widest spot. They were now in the middle of the sea. How discouraging. We know what that’s like. When we are battling a crisis and we have no way of knowing how much longer we will have to endure. We become very discouraged.
So, Jesus goes out to them. I’ve always thought he went directly to the boat and calmed the sea. This is the first time I’ve noticed that very strange verse that says, “he meant to pass by them.” What? Why would he go past them? No wonder they think he is a ghost, meant to scare and do harm to them.
Only when the disciples cry out does Jesus respond. Isn’t that curious? Does it mean, we need to ask for help? Do we need to acknowledge we cannot go it alone, that the chaos of life is just too much for us? Does Jesus want us to ask for assistance, especially at our most frightened? They say that there are no atheists in fox holes. We all want to believe in God when our lives are at risk and death seems certain. And maybe that’s just what it means to be human. We want to rely on ourselves—until we realize that we truly do need help.
Jesus never imposes himself on us. He wants us to freely choose how we will live our lives. Jesus can be with us during times of crisis, but only if we are willing to allow for this. Perhaps that’s the good and the bad of free-will. Our ego can get in the way of humility until we are forced to surrender.
It says “At once” Jesus reassures them. Immediately, Jesus responds when he hears their cries. And he offers words of comfort: “Take courage. It is I.” “It’s me,” he’s saying, the one you know and love. He climbs into the boat, and all is well. Finally. The disciples must’ve been wondering what took him so long. Where have you been? Haven’t you seen that we were in trouble? But it was dark. Perhaps Jesus was deep in prayer, and it wasn’t until he ended his prayer that he felt something was wrong. Afterall, he walks out to the middle of the sea to help them. I wonder how long it took to walk three miles when you’re walking on water. Are you floating without effort? Clearly, it’s a mystical experience but one that lives in our culture. Walking on water is the epitome of being supernatural. None of us can do it. Even Peter tried and failed. (Mark doesn’t talk about Peter in this gospel. He’s not a fan of Peter so he rarely mentions him.)
In our second reading by Madeleine L’Engle, she says that we live by revelation. She tells us to never become smug, thinking we know all the answers. Otherwise, we forget to question. And questioning is the way of faith. As youngsters, we were taught to never question. What good did that do? It led us to remain as children in our faith. We need to question and wonder and imagine. That enlivens our faith and helps us to grow.
So, as we ponder simple verses that are not simple at all, once we unpack them, let us marvel at the power of scripture to cause us to wonder, to put ourselves in the shoes/sandals of the disciples, to imagine what it was like to be in that boat—the fear and desperation. And then, crying out, to feel the huge relief to hear Jesus’ voice that says, “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.”
Before this, the disciples’ hearts had been hardened. I wonder if they were softened by this event. Clearly, they could not deny the experience of being so lost and terrified. And then of how Jesus rescued them from the Sea.
Richard Neill Donovan, a theologian, writes that, “Jesus came to the disciples when the light was most needed and with his coming and self-revelation came the dawn. The dying down of the wind confirms the power of Jesus over the powers of chaos.”
Some want to compare this to the end times. That the fourth watch is symbolizing the end of the world when Jesus comes to save us all. That seems a bit drastic but I get it. We all want the reassurance that death is not the end. We choose to believe that the resurrection awaits us. It’s what we as Christians maintain. Death, darkness, chaos is not the final word.
Let us anchor today’s gospel in our hearts as a reminder of God’s care for us. Life is difficult. It is our faith that helps to keep us afloat and alive.
Amen. Amen.
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time: July 11, 2021
First Reading: Taken from Compassion: A Reflection on the Christian Life by Henri Nouwen.
“Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.”
The words of a spiritual writer and humble priest.
Thanks be to God.
Gospel Reading: Mark 6:7-13, 30-34
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
As you heard, we replaced our first reading with a reading on compassion. It’s written by Henri Nouwen, a beloved author of mine who was much like a mentor to me (unbeknownst to him). I chose this reading because it’s how our gospel ends, with Jesus showing compassion for the throngs of people who need his help. Yes, he needed rest, as did his disciples, but the needs of the people overrule. Compassion lies at the heart of Jesus’ ministry.
My relationship with Henri Nouwen, as a reader of his works, was foundational to my theology and my spirituality. In the early 1980’s I first read Henri’s book, “With Open Hands” where he gives the very powerful image of living with open hands rather than clenched fists, always grasping for what we want, holding tightly onto control (which is the great illusion). It was the first time that I heard the Gospel through a spiritual author’s voice. And I was hooked. To this day, I’ve used that image of “open hands” with patients who are so anxious for what they want, what they need to have happen. Gently, I’ve opened my hands to invite them to try to be open to what will be, encouraging them to do the same. It’s such an easier way to live. But we humans need to learn the lesson again and again—and again.
The same is true of those in authority. Kings, queens, bosses, CEOs, even heads of household—all who have power often misuse it, to the detriment of all others. Which is probably why Jesus speaks about it so often. He is trying to encourage these leaders to use love and mercy as the basis of relationship with others, regardless of their position of power. When we have open hands, we have a readiness to give and receive—both essential when dealing with others. But for those in power, they often have anything but open hands! They rule with an iron fist, with little care for others. Our previous president loved his power. He may have to pay for that at some point. We can only hope that the justice system will work, eventually.
In our gospel today, Jesus is sending out his disciples to heal and preach the gospel. They go “two by two” which I believe is the foundation of Christianity. Christianity requires two. Unlike Buddhism or many other religions, being Christian means that you have to be in relationship with others. Some try to ignore this aspect of our faith but it’s almost impossible to practice being a Christian alone. Yes, we have our spiritual practices but even those are relational. Prayer is between God and us. It’s fostering a connection, an awareness that there is more than just me. Jesus wants his disciples to model this awareness so he sends them out, two by two. And there’s great benefit for this as well. There’s safety, there’s the ability to debrief about events and there’s the reliability of having a partner. Most importantly, in relationship, there’s the practice of compassion—how are you? How can I be of help? What do you need that I can provide to grow as a disciple of Jesus? Compassion is essential to ministry.
Yesterday, my husband Dave mentioned that he’s been listening to various soliloquies from Shakespeare. One begins with, “The quality of mercy is not strain’d…” and I’d never heard it. It’s from the Merchant of Venice and Portia is the wise woman who is trying to influence the judge in a courtroom. She is disguised as a man, of course, since it was believed that women could never be that wise. She speaks these words:
The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice.
There it is. The power of mercy in the hands of the powerful. Portia is saying that mercy is such a lofty quality, that it is mightiest in the mightiest and becomes a king, better than his crown. She is encouraging the men, specifically, the merchant to think wisely and compassionately, rather than being so vengeful. Shakespeare understands that the priority is always putting the focus on care and concern for another. Compassion is a better word, I believe, but not much used in that time. Jesus has compassion for the people in need and places their needs over his own. In other translations, the word “pity” is used. That’s placing the recipient in a lower position. Compassion keeps the relationship level—meaning that to understand how another is feeling, to feel with them, then causes us to react, to respond in a way that demonstrates we get how they are feeling and we feel compelled to help, to be of service. That’s true compassion. And that’s the difference between empathy and compassion. Empathy is good; a feeling of care for another but it’s compassion that adds the element of service.
Shakespeare is a master of feeling and notes that mercy or compassion is an attribute “to God himself.” This reflects an understanding of God that is much deeper than simply the “all-powerful, almighty One.” Rather, it’s an element of care that emphasizes relationship. God cares enough to show mercy. Would that we could do the same to all others. This is why, at Full Circle, we try not to use words of hierarchy such as “Lord” and “almighty.” It’s an effort to shift the focus from the love of power to the power of love.
We are different than other faith communities. We are intentional in hearing the message of Jesus to live in love. Compassion is a core tenet which is why “following the rules” doesn’t always work for us. Let us try be aware when compassion is not the focus of decisions and laws. Jesus would want those laws changed or broken because they are not laws based in love but in power. Notice when that challenge is part of your life. We so want to be right, to win the argument, to convince. When done in love, there is the possibility for change. Only with open hands do we invite God to be part of the process for change. We open our hearts as we open our hands to how God can help to change the love of power to the power of love in our own lives. May compassion rule our lives as we seek to live as true Christians.
Amen.
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time June 27, 2021
The Richness of Life Nick Smith
On Thursday, June 24, 2021, an apartment building in the Surfside area of Miami, Florida, collapsed. The death toll has risen, and 159 people remain unaccounted for. When I first saw the pictures on TV, I was shocked. It’s a difficult thing to imagine—having the place where you live suddenly collapse upon you. I was shocked even more that evening.
I play in a two-man match play golf league on Thursday nights, and while waiting for my partner to arrive, I heard the following comments from some of the other golfers: “The CIA blew it up to kill the president of Venezuela. Just a bunch of welfare whores anyway. Those illegals come up here and then sneak in all their relatives. Serves them right. They got a better place to live then I do, and I work for a living. The whole place was full of illegal Mexicans living off my taxes—I don’t get no rent assistance.” There was a lot more said, but you get the picture. I bit my tongue until I couldn’t take it anymore. I basically told them that they were nuts and pretty darned heartless concerning all those poor souls caught in this tragedy, except I wasn’t very diplomatic about it. I do remember saying: “There but for the grace of God go I.” A couple of the guys just laughed, and one pointed out that I was the man with the bible golf balls—I mark my golf balls with Lk 15:32, which is the last line of the parable of the prodigal son: “This one was lost but now is found.” I’ve actually been troubled, upset and in a bad mood ever since. How could anyone be so callous toward other people?
This event reminded me of Jesus’ response to a collapsed building in his own time. In the gospel of Luke, chapter 13, some people told Jesus about a group of Galileans who had come to the temple to sacrifice, and Pontius Pilate slaughtered them. I don’t know the motivation for relating this story to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is interesting: “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13: 2–3). Jesus continues the conversation by mentioning another event, this one involving the tower of Siloam: “Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:4–5).
In commenting on the fall of the tower of Siloam, Jesus negates four assumptions that people often make: Suffering is proportional to sinfulness, tragedy is a sure sign of God’s judgment, bad things happen only to bad people, and we have the right to make such judgments. To each of these assumptions, Jesus says, no. When we see a tragedy, we should resist the temptation to assign guilt to the victims, as if they had received God’s judgment. Rather, Jesus asks us to look within ourselves and take the tragedy as an opportunity for self-examination, not an occasion for blame.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I should probably turn to today’s readings. They collectively demonstrate God’s plan for us. God wants us to experience life in all its richness and fullness. God desires that we live. Death is not the primary plan for people. True life is experienced when we put our trust and faith in God.
In the First Reading, the Wisdom writer reminds us that God created us for Life, imperishable. We are made infinite, in the image of God’s own nature. The Book of Wisdom proclaims that it is God’s will that we live forever. That is the way God planned it from the very beginning. “God created all things that they might be, that they might live. The generative forces of the world are wholesome; there is no poison in them. The dominion of Hades is not on earth, for justice is undying.”
God wants us to be happy. God desires that we share in the richness and fullness of life. This is, and always has been, God’s plan for us. Paul writes to the people of Corinth informing them that God’s plan, through Jesus, is that we all share in the richness of divine life by sharing what earthly wealth we have with those who have less, experiencing the richness of God. Paul wants the people of Corinth to continue to experience the graciousness of God as manifested in the fullness of life which they receive in and through the ministry of Jesus. They have truly been blessed with the richness of divine life. God, through Jesus, has allowed them to receive the greatest gifts of God, not because they deserve it, but because God is richly gracious. The response to the wealth of graces they have received from God, through the acts of Jesus, is that they must share not only their spiritual richness but even their physical wealth, particularly with those who do not have as much.
In today’s gospel, the story of the hemorrhaging woman is sandwiched between two parts of another story involving the healing of another woman. In the larger story, a synagogue leader, Jairus, entreats Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and it is on his way to Jairus’s house that he is encountered by the bleeding woman. After the hemorrhaging woman is healed, someone reports that Jairus’s daughter has died, but Jesus insists on seeing her anyway, and commanding her to get up, which she does. This larger narrative, though hinging on a female character, is still taking place in a man’s world. The patriarchal environment is evidenced by the girl’s complete passivity—indeed, she is dead. This story paints a plain picture of the patriarchal setting in which the story of the hemorrhaging woman takes place. The fact that the larger story shares similarities with the smaller one—that it is also a healing narrative and that it also involves a woman—makes the smaller story of the hemorrhaging woman stand out even more as unique for the ways the woman defies gender challenges and expectations.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the patriarchal challenge of her uncleanness is to reach out and touch Jesus anyway. Whereas, presumably, the expectation would be for her to keep her unclean hands to herself and not jeopardize the cleanness of a man, she nevertheless touches Jesus’s cloak, certain that it will be the key to her healing. Indeed, it seems that rather than the woman’s uncleanness transferring to Jesus, Jesus’s power, his holiness, his wholeness, perhaps, actually transfers to the woman. Verse 30 says that Jesus was “aware that power had gone forth from him.” There is no mention of his being tainted or receiving any curse, but rather his own power flows outward. The woman takes this power from him for her own needs, but Jesus is not angry with her. He affirms the faith that empowered her to do it.
The bleeding woman’s defiant answer to the expectation of passivity is to turn it on its head. This portion of the story is a clear distinction and departure from the overarching male/female, passive/active framework. The bleeding woman is the active agent, and Jesus the male savior is the passive recipient. In the rest of Mark, and indeed most of the Gospel accounts, Jesus is the person doing things—traveling, healing, speaking. He is the savior and the main character, after all. To interrupt the Jesus narrative with a story centering on a woman is no small thing. What’s more, it is not simply that the story centers the woman as an active agent, but also that Jesus occupies the passive role. This counter-cultural swap pushes against the patriarchal assumption of women as inactive objects, and it is affirmed and solidified by Jesus’s response to the woman once she explains to him the truth behind what she has done.
Jesus’s inactivity during much of this narrative serves as a foil to highlight the agency of the woman. Jesus is the object, rather than the subject: the woman heard about him, and came up behind him, and touched him. Power had gone forth from him. The woman falls down before him and tells him what happened. Characterizing the woman as the active agent of this gospel rather than Jesus makes Jesus out to be less of a forceful wielder of power, and more the source of empowerment for others. Rather than calling on Jesus to exercise the strength and power expected of a Messiah, the woman’s faith in Jesus empowers her to enact her own healing. This empowerment reminds us that Jesus the Messiah is not the strongman Messiah but rather the Messiah who gives up his power, letting it flow out of him to others.
After the hemorrhaging woman has confronted and defied the patriarchal challenges of being unclean, overlooked, untouchable, and passive, Jesus blesses her: “Your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” Rather than condemnation for resisting the norms of patriarchal society, the woman receives congratulations for the strength of her faith. Rather than punishment for her audacity, the woman receives praise. Ultimately it is her faith that drives her to disregard the conventions and expectations of society in favor of taking responsibility and ownership of her own body and doing what she knew she had to do to be made well. The faith that Jesus praises is not a faith that submits to patriarchy, but one that resists it. This faith is one that strives to experience life in all its richness and fullness.
To read the story of the hemorrhaging woman that resists patriarchy and celebrates women’s agency is to read a story of female empowerment and affirmation of that empowerment by the Divine. It is to recognize that the oppression of women—that which keeps them marginalized and keeps them sick and suffering—is not compatible with the message and mission of Jesus, that is, love and the fullness of life. What is compatible with the message and mission of Jesus is faith, as exemplified by the hemorrhaging woman. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to seek out Jesus, whatever the cost, rather than heed the ways of the world. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to take control of her own destiny rather than have it dictated to her. The faith of the hemorrhaging woman empowers her to assert her agency in her life rather than remain a passive recipient.
The story of the woman with the issue of blood is a story of empowerment for women. It’s a story that says, despite the patriarchal mandate for women to obey, submit, and behave, that women can and should take ownership of their lives and advocate for their needs—taking what they need, if necessary—and that this initiative is blessed by the divine. The hemorrhaging woman, who lives in a society that won’t even give her the dignity of a name, nevertheless takes her life, her health, and her faith into her own hands. Ultimately, this text empowers all of us to lay claim to and take charge of our own lives, experiencing life in all its richness and fullness because that is what God desires for us.
PENTECOST MAY 23, 2021
By Nick Smith
Pentecost, the “birthday of Christianity,” celebrates God’s sending of the Holy Spirit, which created understanding and unity among the early followers of the risen Christ. When the Holy Spirit finally came on the day of Pentecost, God made no distinction based on sex. Women received the Holy Spirit in the very same way as the men. "There appeared to them tongues as of fire, being distributed and resting on each of them" (Acts 2:3). Please note that God did not distribute blue tongues and pink tongues. The tongues of fire that sat upon Mary Magdalene and the women were no different than the tongues of fire that sat upon Peter, James, and John.
I’m thankful that Pentecost is here. I’m darn good and ready for a mighty wind to blow through the Roman Catholic Church and wake up some of the bishops and humble them a little bit—wake them up and change a few hearts for the good. After all, the job of Sophia Wisdom is to shake us up, not make us comfortable. The Holy Spirit comes on the wind, and brings fire, and brings action. I think it’s action that we need right now; at least, I’d like to see some action toward justice and equality, and spiritual acceptance and renewal. The church today needs a new Pentecost—one that renews the Holy Spirit for ALL believers.
When the day of Pentecost arrived, the disciples were all together in one place. Who were the disciples gathered there? Here is what Luke says in the Acts of the Apostles: “Then the disciples returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk[c] from the city. 13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James, and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew; James, son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas, son of James. 14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers. 15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a group numbering about a hundred and twenty) 16 and said, “Brothers and sisters,[d] the Scripture had to be fulfilled in which the Holy Spirit spoke long ago through David concerning Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus.”
Now, I find this to be most interesting. Jesus leaves the earth and charges his disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit to come upon them. After the roll call of the male disciples, Acts says this: “All of them were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, along with the women and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.”
Well, Howdy Doody looky here. Who are all these women, presumably too numerous to name? I mean, if it were just Mary, Jesus’ mother, and Mary Magdalene, wouldn’t the author have simply named them? And if all the male disciples are named, and the number of believers is 120 people, could it be that most of the crowd were also unnamed women, making the majority of the first believers in Jesus Christ, women? Isn’t it interesting that the contemporary church still models these early ratios—where women seem to be the overwhelming majority of believers?
Furthermore, “ALL OF THEM [not just the men] were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages.” You see, the Holy Spirit didn’t discriminate; instead, the Holy spirit breaks apart cultural assumptions about who can receive the spirit and who can preach it, as Peter himself reminds the crowd of the words the prophet Joel spoke: “…God declares that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy…” Wow! You mean women as well as men can preach and teach the gospel of Jesus.
Now, all believers, men, and women, have direct access to God through Jesus Christ. Now the old laws have passed away allowing continual freedom of worship for both man and woman in the fellowship of the congregation. Pentecost instituted the priesthood of all believers—there are no barriers between male and female in Christ. They both receive redemption in Christ, the gift of the Spirit, and the revelation of the truth. Both are equally God's witnesses testifying God’s truth.
The women who came out of the upper room were a powerful force in early Christianity. This is evidenced by the fact that Saul of Tarsus, in his persecution of the church, targeted both men and women. Luke says, "But Saul ravaged the church, entering house by house and dragging out both men and women and committing them to prison" (Acts 8:3).
Although the Catholic Church states a doctrinal argument of tradition against women preaching, teaching and exercising leadership in the church, Jesus made it clear that such opposition is rooted in a hard heart. For example, when He appeared to the 11, after appearing first to Mary Magdalene and the women, He rebuked them for not believing the women's testimony. Mark says, "Afterward He appeared to the eleven as they sat at supper, and He reprimanded them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they did not believe those who had seen Him after He had risen" (Mark 16:14).
As we celebrate Pentecost and remind ourselves of the joy that is the gift of the Holy Spirit, let’s also recognize the presence of women during this occasion when the spirit came upon the very first disciples of Jesus. These un-named women were present at the cross, witnessed Jesus breathe his last, and present at the resurrection, when Jesus’ breath came back. They were present at Pentecost and received the Holy Spirit, Sophia Wisdom, as disciples of Christ; thus, they were prophesying, and prophesy is not telling the future but inspired instruction for the improvement of a person morally and intellectually.
The Church has a long way to go in unwrapping the hypocrisy of tradition developed over the last two thousand years. It needs the strong wind—a real storm—of the Holy Spirit to shake up the patriarchal bastions of religion and return to the roots of Christian faith founded in equality, acceptance, and love. We will be picking up the debris from this storm for an exceptionally long time, and we may be left with little more than God’s grace upon which to rebuild going forward but rebuild we will. We must.
Today's church cannot continue to marginalize women and expect to see a new Pentecost. I am convinced that if we are to see a new earthshaking outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our day, we must open our doors and our hearts to the gifts and callings of the women in our midst. Maybe we won’t live to see what new paths will be revealed after the wind has settled, but Jesus told us that God’s grace is enough. All we have to do is figure out how to cooperate with it for God’s purposes, right? Let’s hope and pray that we’ll be able to do that.
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Mother’s Day 2021
First Reading: Writings from Julia Ward Howe
Arise, then, Christian women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts. Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears! Say firmly: We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
The Words of a Wise Woman.
Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: First Letter of John 4: 7-10a, Gospel Reading: John 15: 9-15, 17
Homily by Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Each of us has an inner child. We talk about nurturing our inner child to refer to self-care and self-compassion. This “child” is an essential part of who we are, a core self that endures well into adulthood, if not for the rest of our lives. And that’s a good thing. The inner child is that part of us that yearns to be cherished, held, loved for who we are. Any good mother does all of these things: gently reminding us through their actions that we are okay, that we are not alone, and that we will be loved for all eternity. All people are capable of being mothers. Some do it far better than biological mothers. There’s no training or certification. Some of it is innate, some of it is “luck of the draw” based on the mothers who mothered our own.
This being mothered serves as the basis for relationship throughout our lives. Just as we have been loved, so we love others. We recognize how significant it is to “love one another” as Jesus encourages us to do. Perhaps this goes back to our origins. In our mother’s wombs, we were physically part of another human being, fully dependent on her for our very existence. That may explain why we are so relational, so in need of connection. Ubuntu is the African belief that I am because you are, a profound belief that we cannot exist without others. That truth, if embraced, could change our world in significant ways, if we would truly live it. I am because you are; the ultimate mothering instinct.
Ancient mythology portrays the goddess of fertility as the source of all life. This goddess has been adored since the beginning of awareness in humans. Back then, the feminine was the higher being, not the lesser one. The being who could create new life was seen as essentially the key to all existence. No wonder that goddess was honored. Without new life, creation is stagnant and eventually all life dies out. We rely on the cycle of birth, life and death. It’s part of the moon and its mystery. And it’s part of womanhood.
Then, we read in Genesis that man was first. Woman was created from man and is thereby lesser. (Even though there is a creation story in Genesis that reports that both male and female were created at the same time. That story is rarely told.) Ever since, we as women have been trying to reclaim our role as equals, as valid in our own right. RCWP is an extension of this, as we seek to bring equality to our Church, a church who lifts up Mary as so very important.
As part of this struggle, I believe that Mary, the mother of Jesus served a vital role. We, our inner child, needed gentleness, nurturing, those feminine qualities that heal and empower. So, as Catholics we were taught to pray to Mary, the intercessor. I remember May crownings with bunches of purple lilacs in hand, carrying Mary in procession around a high school race-track with faithful Catholics singing from the stands, “Hail Mary, Mother of God. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death.” That was called a “Rosary Rally” where we said the rosary, a full meditation to Mary, the Mother of our God. No wonder Protestants thought we worshipped Mary! My parents have led a Marian group for over 50 years. There will be a monthly mass (if a priest is able to attend) and for sure a rosary will be said, led by my mother, most of the time. They will discuss having a booth at the Ohio State Fair where rosaries (that us 8 kids made) and pamphlets with scapulars will be given out for free. Even now, a 4-foot statue of Mary stands in their TV room on a pedestal. She is ever-present and has been the recipient of many a novena, said during life for various wants or needs. Dave and I have our very own statue of Mary that we received for our wedding from my parents. Just what any young couple most needs, right?
Once, when I was about ten, we traveled to Garabandal, a little town in northern Spain where Mary was reported to have appeared to children. We knew the story well. When we arrived in Garabandal, my mother fell to her knees weeping. That made quite an impression on me and my siblings. We lived the belief in Mary on a daily basis. Finally, we attended all night vigils on the first Saturday of every month—even into high school. I wore my scapular until I attended graduate school at Boston College. It took me that long to begin thinking on my own about my very Catholic beliefs.
As an adult, I’ve come to understand Mary as representing the feminine God. I believe that she has helped balance a patriarchal God who was seen as judge, authority, Lord. With Mary, we learned to love an “associate” of God who was more kind, calmer, gentle and loving. For me, she is the Mother God to whom we now pray. I also claim a grandmother God because that image is of my own grandma who laughed and teased and was so much less formal about her faith. She was plump and loved to bake delicious pound cakes and cheesecakes. When I think of her, she is always in the kitchen chopping carrots that she called golden pennies. That’s the image of God who I can relate to, who makes me feel wholly loved.
This Mother’s Day, I encourage you to reclaim your understanding of Mary. Could she be what Mother God is for us? Can we all nurture a fuller belief in a God who has no gender? God is all—more than we can imagine. Yet, we as human beings need to begin somewhere. Mothers are a powerful way to try to expand on who God is for us; loving us, holding us, caring for our every need so that we might become all that we are meant to be. Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have been mothers to us. Happy Mother’s Day to those of us who help to mother others. Amen.
What is your image of Mother God? Who have been mothers to you?
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.
Third Sunday in Easter April 18, 2021
By Nick Smith
The resurrection narrative in Luke consists of five sections: the women at the empty tomb, the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, the appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem, Jesus’ final instructions to the disciples, and finally, the ascension. In Luke, all the resurrection appearances take place in and around Jerusalem; moreover, they are all recounted as having taken place on Easter Sunday. A consistent theme throughout the narrative is that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus were accomplished in fulfillment of Old Testament promises and of Jewish hopes. In the other three gospels, Jesus instructs the women disciples to inform the male disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee, and he does. Then he ascends into heaven.
The Catholic Catechism teaches: “The resurrection of Jesus is the crowning truth of the Christian faith in Christ, a faith believed and lived as the central truth by the First Christian community; handed as fundamental by Tradition; established by the document of the New Testament; and preached as an essential part of the paschal mystery along with the cross” [cf. CCC638]. Simply put, the resurrection of Jesus is central to our Christian faith because if Christ did not rise from the dead our faith is worthless, our teachings useless and our lives meaningless. If Christ did not rise on the third day; then, salvation is not possible. The Catechism goes on to say: “By itself, the tradition of the empty tomb doesn’t prove anything, but when linked to the Risen Christ’s appearances, it is confirmatory of the resurrection” [cf. CCC 640]. Yes, the personal appearances of Christ following his resurrection are an eye-witness proof of this event. The disciples saw, heard, and touched Jesus in his risen state. Christ even ate with them as reported in the gospels; and then, he ascended into heaven.
This isn’t enough for me. The entire account leaves me unsatisfied; It leaves me flat; It leaves me wondering. I don’t remember where I heard this, but somehow in my life it has become a sort of mantra: The resurrection is an exclamation mark, not a period. It’s a beginning, not an end. In God’s plan, the resurrection of Jesus is a “wow” sign, not a stop sign. Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the Scriptures. And he said to them. “Thus, it is written that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead on the third day and that repentance, for forgiveness, would be preached in his name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
What does Jesus mean by this charge to his disciples? Since repentance involves a complete and irreversible change of mind, heart, and actions by people, Jesus is asking that the good news of God’s new reign be spread across the world. God’s reign is for the integral human development of all peoples, for their dignity, for their freedom, for their peace and prosperity, for a basic human community. We are sent out by Christ to acknowledge people’s humanity. As co-creators, we are continually forming the world that formed us. We are seeking different ways to better the purposes of being human—a life creative, loving, power for others, rather than power over others. Jesus is asking us to repent by calling out to the best in us, and this seems to be a truly noble and satisfying way to live. Jesus asks us to continually be resurrected in our lives in order to further God’s kin-dom on earth.
I believe that I have felt resurrected now and then. I felt resurrected when I got my first job and got my first pay envelope. I felt resurrected when I got my first teaching job. I felt resurrected when I asked Joyce McLaughlin to marry me, and she said yes. I felt resurrected when I was able to fulfill my best friends request at his funeral. I felt resurrected when each of my children were born and again with each grandchild and great grandchild. I felt resurrected when I joined this Full Circle Catholic faith community, and I feel resurrection every Sunday at this gathering with people who believe in the divinity of every human soul and the dignity of every human being. These and many other events were all exclamation points in my life.
Jesus had been with his disciples for three years, yet they did not recognize him. Even after Jesus had risen from the dead, they did not recognize him until they had a “wow” moment—an exclamation mark, rather than a period. Isn’t that the way with our lives too? We fail to recognize how close God really is to us all the time.
But if we embrace the resurrections of our lives, we will encounter the risen Christ in our hearts and in our faith. Yes, we sojourn in the kin-dom of God with our doubts, confusions, fears, and misunderstandings, but we are offered truth and faith through proclaiming the good news of Christ’s resurrection in our words and actions. Jesus has sent us out into the world to be witnesses and practitioners in this amazing news of resurrection—as co-creators in forming a better world.
Let’s remember that the resurrection is not a . but an!
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Easter Reflections Rev. Mary Kay Kusner 4/4/21
First Reading: A Reading from the Prophet Isaiah 43:1-3a, 4a-b, 7, 10,12b-13a, 19ab
And now, thus says our God, the One who created you, the One who formed you as a people: Do not fear, for I have freed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. I, the Holy One, am your God....you are precious in my sight, and honored. I love you. All who are called by My name, I created for My glory; I formed them, made them. You are my witnesses—my living oracle to the world—My servant people whom I have chosen to know and believe in Me and understand that I am God. Before Me, no god was formed, and after Me there shall be none. You are My witnesses. I am God. Yes, from everlasting, I Am. I, your God, am about to do a new thing. Now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it?
The word of God. Thanks be to God.
Second Reading: A Reading from Hildegard of Bingen on Love as the Vital Force of the Universe (From Book of Divine Works, ed by Matthew Fox, Vision 2:46)
Out of this true love, which is totally divine, there arises all goodness, which is to be desired above everything else. Love draws to itself all who desire God, and with this impulse, love goes to meet them. Love ponders all merits and everything human beings do and accomplish for the sake of God.
Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s People. Thanks be to God
Gospel of the Resurrection: John 20:1, 11-18
Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb. She saw that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance.
Mary stood weeping beside the tomb. Even as she wept, she stooped to peer inside. There she saw two angels in dazzling robes. One was seated at the head and the other at the foot of the place where Jesus’ body had lain. They asked her, “Why are you weeping?” She answered them, “Because they have taken away my Rabbi, and I don’t know where they have put the body.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned and caught sight of Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus. He asked her, “Why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?”
She supposed it was the gardener, so she said, “Please, if you’re the one who carried Jesus away, tell me where you’ve laid the body and I will take it away.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She faced him and said, “Rabboni!”—which means “Teacher.”
Jesus then said, “Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to my loving God. Rather, go to my disciples and friends. Tell them, “I am ascending to my loving God, and to your loving God, my God and your God!’”
Mary of Magdala went to the disciples. She proclaimed the good news, “I have seen the Teacher!” She reported what he had said to her.
The Gospel of God. Praise to You, Jesus the Christ.
HOMILY
Today’s readings are filled with hope and promise, as they should be. This is Easter, the most important day of the liturgical year for us Christians. Alleluias are back! May our hearts take notice.
In our first reading, we are claimed by God—we’ve been created for God’s glory. Such a beautiful idea that we don’t often consider. We are helping to bring about that which glorifies God. What could that be? More kindness? More goodness? More compassion? All those dimensions of co-creating with God who is always doing something new. We do not perceive it because we do not expect it. Often, it is the unexpected that gives us the greatest joy. No one expected resurrection. Coming back from the dead? That’s God breaking through the usual, mundane, unexpected routine of our lives.
I don’t know about you, but I love to be surprised. Once, our boys hid over 20 family and friends in our basement by letting them in through a basement window. Then, after a lovely dinner, they got us to go downstairs. I’ll never forget the feeling of not expecting a thing—and then suddenly hearing and seeing family and friends from Ohio. That’s the kind of surprise God creates for us.
In our second reading, Hildegaard of Bingen tells us that love is the vital force of the universe. She was born in 1098, so must have said this in the twelfth century—a long, long time ago. Why does it still sound so modern? “Love is the vital force; out of this love there arises all goodness.” Yes, that is our belief. Love is the ultimate source of good. It’s what enables change and transformation. It’s what enables us to become all we are meant to be and it can surprise us in strange and delightful ways.
Then, we come to our Gospel. Today’s gospel is the favorite reading for us womenpriests. This is the gospel we read every year. This is the gospel story we will continue to read every Easter. It’s John’s gospel. John is the only gospel writer who tells of the encounter of Mary with Jesus. It’s key to our movement. It’s key to why it is so wrong that the traditional Catholic church keeps ignoring Jesus’ words and actions by saying “no” to women. We all need to deeply appreciate this reading as central to our beliefs at Full Circle.
Mary Magdalene was one of the most devout and consistent followers of Jesus. Some believe they were lovers. I think their love went deeper than just physical attraction. Jesus knew that Mary understood who he really was. She was so dedicated to him. Even after all the horrible crucifixion chaos and the threat of more violence, instead of being locked in the Upper Room with the male disciples, Mary chose to go outside, to be vulnerable, to seek out her Lord. She wanted to perform the Jewish ritual for the dead, cleansing and anointing him for burial. He would not be denied this. Mary went out, walking to the tomb of Jesus. She had the courage to go alone. Maybe she was so bereft that she didn’t care if she lived or died. What did it matter? Jesus was gone—dead.
And when she arrives, she is stunned to see that the tomb is open and empty. Who would’ve rolled back the stone? The entrance of a Jewish tomb needed a stone that was about 4-6 feet in diameter and about 1 foot thick. It might have weighed between 1-2 tons. Moving a stone that heavy would’ve taken several strong men. Mary is convinced that someone had stolen the body of Jesus. Why else would he be missing from the tomb?
She is confused and doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, she sees a man. Can he help or at least explain what’s happened? For some reason, Mary doesn’t recognize that this man is Jesus. We’re told that she thinks he’s the gardener. What would a gardener be doing out at this hour and at this place? As it turns out, the authors of early scripture loved the metaphor of Jesus as a gardener. How appropriate. Gardening holds such possibility, such hope. Seeds are sown and nurtured. Growth is expected. Now we see how Jesus as gardener fits so well in the resurrection story.
The idea of Jesus as gardener hearkens back to Genesis, God in the garden of Eden, having just created a whole new world. Now, Jesus is creating a new world again, a new church, a new way of being. Jesus is “growing our souls” to quote author Brent Klaske. The resurrection was a very new idea—that out of death, life could come. At this first resurrection, Jesus hoped to grow a new belief, the Christian church. Therefore, Jesus has become known as “the caretaker of humanity.” (Franco Mormando, historian at Boston College)
At this encounter, Jesus speaks first, asking Mary why she is weeping, now a rhetorical question. And then he asks her who she is looking for. She is pleading, begging for his help. And then, with one word, Jesus changes her life forever. “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Jesus. Surprise. Joy. Relief. Her beloved teacher is here, alive. How is this possible? She rushes to embrace him, but he gives her caution. Things are different now. Their love will be expressed not by an embrace, but by the acknowledgement of Mary’s new role. Jesus tells her to go tell the others that he has Risen. Thereby, Jesus sanctions Mary as the first evangelist—a woman, who will spread the message that Jesus is Messiah. This is a key moment in scripture, a key truth that has been so ignored and avoided. But no longer. Jesus chose to appear to the one who sought him out, to the person who had great courage and who was the best one to tell others who he really is. Mary is that woman. It’s why we so respect and emulate her as womenpriests. She is our role model. Mary is known as the apostle to the apostles. She is the one that Jesus designated as true to the cause, the one who should lead the way.
Mary Magdalene leads us to Jesus because she understood that his way is a way of love, the secret to our human longing for more. Mary knows that Jesus empowers us to be gardeners like him. We can plant the seeds of hope. We can plant the seeds of change. We can embody the message of Jesus in our every encounter.
May we embrace our role as gardeners, sowing seeds of Easter renewal. Each time we plant a seed, through a compassionate response or a kindness offered, we cannot know how it might grow. Jesus didn’t know that either. But he trusted that, out of darkness comes light, out of dirt and death, comes life and nourishment.
This Easter, let us become gardeners of hope and new life. We stand in truth that God is alive and that love will always transform; a seed will become what it’s meant to be, if it’s planted and nurtured. Jesus is Risen. Go and tell the others. Alleluia! Alleluia!
How will you be an Easter gardener?
PALM SUNDAY MARCH 28, 2021
NICK SMITH
There is little agreement between the Gospels as to the events of Palm Sunday. What are we to make of the fact that John places the cleansing of the temple three years before Palm Sunday? In Matthew’s account of the gospel, Jesus immediately enters and cleanses the temple, driving out those who bought and sold, and overturning the moneychangers’ tables. According to Luke, Jesus sees the city of Jerusalem and weeps over it. Then he enters the temple and drives out the den of thieves—those who bought and sold. But Mark’s gospel has Jesus, at the end of the donkey ride, when the shouting is over and the last cloaks and palms have been thrown down, enter the temple, look around at everything, and then leave.
Mark’s telling is a strange and anticlimactic ending to what is known as the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Maybe this Palm Sunday we should go beyond the palm leaves we never know what to do with and a feel-good procession that leads to nowhere. Maybe we should do what Jesus does—look around at everything before we go any further into this week. Maybe we should take a look at everything that is in our heart. What could we see? The triumphal entry is not about the donkey ride, the palms, or the hosannas. The triumph is in taking a look around at everything and leaving—doing nothing, saying nothing, just leaving.
So why did Jesus leave the temple and go to Bethany? The gospel tells us why. Jesus left the temple “as it [some translations say He] was already late.” The “He” got me to wondering. What if this is about something more than just the time of day? What if Jesus is late getting somewhere or doing something? What might Jesus be late for? The only thing I could think of was getting the donkey back to its owner. Here’s why I say that. There’s another unique aspect about Mark’s account of Palm Sunday. He is the only one to say that Jesus promised to return the donkey to its owner. All the other gospels agree that the donkey was either borrowed from its owner or found. Only Mark speaks about Jesus returning the animal.
What if that’s why Jesus left the temple? Maybe he left so he could keep his promise and do what he said he would do—return the donkey. Maybe this is about Jesus being true to himself and keeping his word.
Maybe returning the donkey is a metaphor for us as we enter into this Holy Week? It’s a metaphor to ponder, and it raises a couple of questions. First, what do we need to return this week? We all have “stuff” that we’ve carried around with us for years. This “stuff” is no longer able to take us anywhere or give us life. It’s just baggage we carry that continues to weigh us down. It impoverishes life. It corrupts our heart.
What do we need to let go of, release, and return this week: a grudge or resentment? Anger? Fear? Disappointment and regret? Guilt? Envy? We all have our “stuff.” Maybe Holy Week is the time to return and release it all to God, trusting that God can do something with us that we’re not able to for ourselves.
What if returning and releasing our troubles is about returning to ourselves? Maybe it’s about returning to our center and reclaiming our truest self. That means we could then move forward, not from the same old place, but from the newly recovered center. That’s what Jesus did. He stayed true to himself through this week. So maybe returning the donkey is ultimately about returning to our original self, that self of beauty and goodness that God created.
And here’s my second question. What do you need to return to? What if we returned to joy, hope, beauty, truth, and honesty? What if we came back to justice, mercy, forgiveness? What if we re-center ourselves in peace and courage—reclaiming our holiness and dignity? We could return to love of neighbor, self, and enemy? Coming back to ourselves would be like a new life, wouldn’t it?
Let’s begin this week by returning the donkey. What do you need to return, and to what do you need to return? Those are the two questions. To answer them we must look around at everything. That’s what Jesus did. It’s not so much just looking around at everything outside us but looking around at everything within us too. Look at what’s there. Look at what’s missing. Look at what you need, what you feel, who you truly are, and who you want to be; and then, return the donkey.
Take that image of returning the donkey with you this week. Take it wherever you go. Bring it to whatever you do. Let it be present as you live your life and as you engage people in relationships whether in your family, at work, at school, or at the grocery store.
Returning the donkey is how Holy Week begins. Returning to God and ourselves is the promise of how this week will end. Look around at everything like Jesus did; and then, go return the donkey.
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2nd Sunday of Lent February 28, 2021
Transfiguration by Nick Smith
I’ve been thinking about the concept of transfiguration. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I think it is akin to transformation but not quite the same. It has something to do with seeing the “real” or the “true” or the “holy” within the everyday or the usual. It deals with being in the present moment whether or not we are on a mountaintop. It has something to do with being transformed by seeing the transfigured—something to do with growth and change and understanding.
Folk literature from around the world uses the transfiguration motif of appearances being deceiving to share a moral: in life, things happen around us, things happen to us, but the only thing that truly matters is how you choose to react to it and what you make out of it. Life is all about learning, adopting, and converting all the struggles that we experience into something positive. Hans Christian Anderson’s stories, “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Ugly Duckling” are two examples of the concept. In the first story the arrogant and vain emperor is mocked when his vanity is literally exposed. His new clothes of which he is so proud prove to be not what they seem to be. The ugly duckling is the classic tale of a misfit who grows up misunderstood only to finally blossom into her true self in adulthood. These stories have something to do with transfiguration, the revelation of the” real” that is hidden by a covering that is a shadow of reality or that hides reality all together.
In honor of Black History Month, here is one story that illustrates the transformation of April Ellison in a white world. This story is told, I believe, from the perspective of the privileged. Born in 1790, Ellison was the son of two black slave parents. In 1802, become an apprentice of a cotton gin maker in Winnsboro, South Carolina. Ellison learned how to build and repair the cotton gin. He learned how to be a blacksmith, a machinist, and a carpenter. All of these were skills required of a gin maker. Ellison received both the intellectual and mechanical education that would allow him to be independent and successful as a gin maker by teaching him how to read, write, and do bookkeeping. Not only did he learn how to be a master gin maker, Ellison, also, learned how to deal with white planters. If he is going to be a success in life, getting along with white people was an important aspect of life that he would have to learn. In 1818, April Ellison was given his freedom and opened his own cotton gin shop. Yes, Ellison’s story is of a slave becoming a free man and owning his own successful gin shop, but this story of successful assimilation into the white communities has a raw edge. On the one hand this story is good news, but on the other hand, it is terrifying.
As time passed, Elliston’s wealth grew. The world of business was kind to Ellison as he would go on to become one of the major cotton gin manufacturers in the state of South Carolina. Elliston, a freed slave, became the owner of 161 slaves and 900 acres of land by 1840. By 1860, Ellison owned more American slaves than anyone else in the entire state of South Carolina and was 15 times wealthier than any wealthy white person. He died on December 5, 1861 in the midst of the civil war.
I am wondering where is the gospel of Love and the Christian faith that was indeed a part of Christendom in the days of slavery. The glory of Christ’s transfiguration is apparently not heard of in the world of prejudice and racism. Were the privileged afraid of their own imaginations as Peter, James and John were terrified of their imaginations on that mountaintop. April Ellison was a Christian after all, but he found no conflict in slave ownership. Let’s no forget that Christianity approved of slavery into the 20th century when the Ecumenical Council finally condemned the practice of slavery in all forms in 1965.
Interestingly, the first response to the bright light of God’s reality is fear—a reality beyond us, unknown, awesome, greater than we can comprehend. Far from a random vision, the transfiguration is laden with symbolic meaning, connecting Jesus to Moses and Elijah, to the law given on Mount Sinai. A voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” So really transfiguration is not about Jesus changing in any way, it is about the disciples seeing Jesus for who he really is. Transformation is changing from one thing to another, transfiguration is seeing reality as it really is.
Spirituality is not just about changing and transformation, though we hope for these; it is also important to recognize the nature of spirituality is seeing clearly. If we don’t see things as they clearly are, how can we ever know real change? Seeing reality in its true light, the illumination of the divine, is a spiritual necessity. If we want to know more of the reality of God, what we must do is pay attention and watch everything around us through the eyes of love because healing prejudice and racism is all about love, not fear. We watch, pay attention, and then in a moment we see the world illuminated. Our vision sees below the surface of things, a light shines in the darkness, with the very presence of God’s Love and our love so we may be filled with the goodness of God, but we remain afraid, terrified of such a transformation through transfiguration. We are afraid of the bright light of revelation when it breaks through into our own reality. We fear losing our own reality and our own identity—our place at the table.
Our own identity is the central and revolutionary truth we must confront if we are to be transformed through transfiguration. We cling to our identities more than anything else in the world; our racial, national, political, gender, sexual, and religious designations are the place from which we understand everything else in our world. When our identity gets challenged, it offends us to the extreme. It scares us. We avoid it at all cost.
In Western Civilization, we define truth as a set of ideas or beliefs—a philosophy. We are then educated in that philosophy and hold others to those perspectives. We are then subject to the truth. What we experience determines what we believe. What we believe determines what we think and feel. What we think and feel determine our behavior. The root of what needs to change, therefore, is our experience with God and what we believe about God and, by extension, about ourselves. Everything flows from that.
So, how do we see a modern transfiguration—something that reveals the truth, the real or the holy within the everyday or the usual? Here’s an idea. Willie Fairley, the owner of Willie Ray’s Q Shack in Cedar Rapids, gave out thousands of free meals following the derecho in August. He has since traveled to Texas to do the same for people there after their misfortunes with the weather. Fairley's generosity landed him national recognition and an 'eat it forward' award from Discover, but he says giving back is what drives him. “Something I love to do so you know I feel like I get my blessings from doing for others versus worrying about what I can do for myself so we can continue to take care of the public and the people who's in need," Fairley said.
And maybe this Facebook post from Diann Zirtzman at Regina also provides us a transfigured glimpse that might transform our world.
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Homily for February 14, 2021: A Pandemic of Love
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
“The time had just come…” Rosa Parks was tired of waiting. She had lived her life under the oppression of the white man. To us white folks, she comes out of nowhere. We don’t know who she is. But today we learn that she had been working tirelessly to bring about change. She was no stranger to taking risks and living her life to challenge the powers that be. I never knew this. Like many of my white peers, I always believed that Rosa was a sweet, elderly woman who sat quietly in her protest for the first time. She is gently taken off the bus and went down in history as having done something radical. But, thanks to Bonnie who found our Second Reading, we now know differently. Rosa had “decades of community activism.” Much like the women of the Bible whose stories were never told, Rosa’s story had not been fully told either. As a white woman, I’m embarrassed to be part of a culture of silence and ignorance in regard to how black people have been treated in my lifetime.
Black History Month is an opportunity to change this; a time to be better educated and enlightened to what is the true history of black people. My husband Dave has been reading a book called, “Caste” which talks about the hierarchy of blacks in America. For many in the 1930s, blacks were “sub-human” not even worthy of regard, let alone equal rights. That’s how slavery lasted for so long. The Germans took notice of this and copied our ways of mistreating black people in the way they mistreated Jewish people. We gave them the example! German Nazis were seeing what we Americans did as a way to justify what they did to the Jews. We helped to enable the Holocaust. Our misguided and hateful way of seeing blacks as sub-human facilitated the Nazis to send Jews to the gas chambers. We are complicit. This is part of black history and our roles as whites.
This week, I’ve been listening to the impeachment trial of Donald Trump. I learned more about the insurrectionists and what they did at the Capitol on January 6th. Their attitude, fueled by Trumps need for power, led them to yell words like, “Hang Mike Pence” and to call out “Nancy” as a way of luring her to harm. It outrageous that we take so long to grow as a civilization. I can get very despairing in prayer. How long, O Lord? When will we change? When will we be able to live in a society that is based on kindness and not judgment or seeing others as LESS?
In our gospel, Jesus understood this tendency by humans to degrade others. Lepers were seen as untouchable and were shunned by the community. They were forced to beg and had to maintain social distance of 50 paces. Many have written that being a social outcast was more painful than the illness itself. The leper tells Jesus he can heal him, “If you are willing.” Jesus hears this invitation to compassion and responds immediately. He reaches beyond the social barrier and touches the man to make him clean. One theologian writes, “In this case, it is not the leper who is contagious, but Jesus. The leper does not transmit his uncleanness to Jesus, but Jesus transmits his wholeness and holiness to the leper and makes him clean (medically, spiritually, and socially).” Can you imagine that love could be contagious? What a powerful concept during this time of contagion. Love as contagion. We’ve been used to seeing contagiousness as fearful and deadly. This is a whole new way of seeing love as a necessary pandemic! Through love, we can heal anger and divisiveness. Love can overcome social barriers and loneliness. Love can be our overwhelming response in the world today.
I just finished a book called “Conjure Women” written by a black woman, Afia Atakora. It’s historical fiction and tells what it’s like being a black woman during slavery. I was caught up in the pride and intelligence of the women in the story. They are daring and brave, birthing babies on the plantation and healing those who were ill. Still, the sting of white supremacy rings clear. There is no hope of true change, only endurance while maintaining pride and self-respect. Some details were too horrific for me. I can only tolerate so much inhumanity. Even when I hear news reports of blacks being killed by cops, I can hardly bear to listen or watch the footage. It’s times like this when I do not want to claim my white history—do not want to acknowledge how privileged I am. But turning away does nothing to help create change. I encourage you to read stories that informs us whites what it’s like to live as a black person, past and present.
Last week, we hired a new chaplain to join our department at UIHC. She is an intelligent black woman and I hope to learn from her. Her very presence helps to remind me of what I often take for granted. What matters most is that I emulate Rosa and take what opportunities there are to risk changing attitudes and practices that demean people of color.
Finally, remember that the gospel writer Mark uses the Messianic Secret in this reading and others, to help spread the news that Jesus is the Messiah. By telling the leper to “speak not a word to anyone,” Mark guarantees the opposite effect. In our gospel from last week, Peter’s mother-in-law was healed, and we see how this affected all of Capernaum! Word spread quickly and lives were changed. May we continue to spread the word that love is what heals our society not hatred. May we reach out and “touch” those who have been cut off from society—the imprisoned, those with Covid and our own family. As Rosa said, “The time had just come.” Now is the time of liberation! Let’s start a pandemic of love, beginning today, Valentine’s Day. Amen.
What ways can you begin to risk responding out of love in your own life?
THIRD SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME 1/24/21
SERMON NICK SMITH
Today’s readings accentuate the theme of the self-authenticating nature of Jesus’ call to “follow Him.” The same spirit is at work when Jonah reluctantly answers the call to preach to the Ninevites, Amanda Gorman exclaims that there is “always light if only we’re brave enough to see it; if only we’re brave enough to be it,” and Jesus summons His disciples; and thus, the same results are seen. We are called—given a “follow me” moment to self-actuate by having confidence in the simple proclamation of God. All people may hear and respond to God’s call as they wish because God’s call does not need to be validated by anything outside of ourselves. God’s word carries its own authority that all people in all places can receive and act upon.
I am amazed at how Simon, Andrew, James, and John, in the gospel of Mark, don’t say a word when Jesus calls them to follow. They don’t ask a single question. They just leave everything and go. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Remember last week’s gospel where John the Baptist was standing with two of his disciples when Jesus walked by and he said, “Look, the Lamb of God.” The two disciples heard him and followed Jesus. One of the disciples was Andrew, Simons Peter’s brother. He tells Simon Peter that he has found the Messiah and brings him to Jesus. The other disciple, Philip, found Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. James and John are Andrew and Simon Peter’s partners in the fishing business, and they bring them to Jesus.
Mark describes Jesus’ calling of the disciples after John the Baptist has been arrested, but these men are already disciples of Jesus before the arrest. And let’s not forget the many women who have also become disciples of Jesus during this time—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Susanna, Salome, Mary and Martha, Lazarus’s sisters, and many, many more. We do not know how many disciples Jesus had, nor do we know how they were called, but we do know that many men and women heard the call of the word and followed Jesus. We know that a pattern develops where someone witnesses the truth of Jesus and passes that truth on to someone else. Those who receive someone else’s witness become witnesses themselves who then pass on their witness to someone else who becomes a witness. This pattern continues throughout the gospel right up to the Samaritan woman at the well who testifies to an entire town that Jesus is the Messiah.
I think that we hear this gospel story too narrowly and we interpret Jesus’ words to “Follow me” in a manner that is too restrictive, petty, and small. We tend to make His words only about religious institutions, the church, and a particular way of life, about exclusivity instead of being inclusive of all people and applicable to all lives.
What if “Follow me” is actually Jesus’ invitation to all of us to step out of our way of life and leap into the fullness of our lives? What if Jesus’ call is for us to become fully alive, becoming more authentically ourselves, living with integrity, and discovering our true self? Maybe every time we act in such a way that our words and actions reflect who we really are, we are answering Jesus’ call to “follow” Him.
Have you ever had a feeling that you just had to do something even though you weren’t sure exactly where it would take you or what would happen? This feeling to do something felt right, it felt necessary, and to not follow it would be a betrayal of yourself and life. There’s something sacred about that feeling. Regardless of who we are, or our life’s situation, I think we’re all trying to become our most authentic selves. This growing seems to happen in the “follow me” moments of life: those times of decision, change, vulnerability, and moments of not knowing; times when the world and life become bigger than before; moments when we step more fully into ourselves. And what are some of these “follow me” moments in our lives?
These moments come to us in hundreds, maybe thousands of ways and they often don’t make a great deal of sense. How crazy is it when two people look at each other and say, “You’re the one. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I’m willing to find out with you and with God’s help. Do you want to make a life together?” That’s a “follow me” moment. Or what about the single person or the newly single person who faces an unknown future but is willing to find out on their own and with God’s help. Or what about the death of a loved one, and in the midst of our pain and sorrow we realize that our life has changed, not ended and we praise God for the joy of having known that person. And another “follow me” moment might be looking at your life and wondering what it is all about, looked at the truth about yourself, wished for something new, or wanted a different way of being and living. And then you make changes in your life that fit you and grow you.
Sometimes these “follow me” moments take us to great heights, to great joy, to paradise, but not always. Sometimes they take us to places we never wanted to go, to circumstances we never wanted to face. Sometimes they set before us the good, the beautiful, and the enjoyable and other times they reveal the ways our lives have become ugly, bad, and disfigured. At times they are public moments for everyone to see but mostly they are private moments know only to us and God. They can be as adventurous as starting life over or as ordinary as giving a panhandler a couple of dollars, keeping a promise, leaving the bar after two drinks, changing a diaper. Each of these moments, in whatever form they come, can take each of us more deeply into ourselves and more fully into our lives, ultimately connecting us with God. These “follow me” moments are less about where we are going or what we are doing, and more about who and what we are becoming.
What are the moments in your life that have touched you in such a way that you couldn’t do anything but go? You had to follow the calling because it was real and authentic for you and your life. These are not once-a-life time moments. They present themselves again and again throughout our lives. “Follow me” is the ever present and ongoing call of Jesus to all of us.
Let me ask you this. What is the “follow me” moment for you today in the current circumstances of your life? We never get anywhere unless we are willing to leave where we are. We can’t hold onto anything different unless we are willing to let go of what we already have in our hands. We need to let go of our nets, get out of the boat, and walk away from our Zebedee’s. I don’t mean this literally, of course, because these are merely symbols and images descriptive of our lives. What are the nets in your life—the things that entangle you, those things that capture you? What are the boats that contain your life and restrict it to the days catch, giving you the illusion of life—the ones that are comfortable and keep you sailing in the same old waters? Who is your Zebedee—that someone or something that you continually seek approval from and try to meet their expectations?
We need to identify the nets, boats, and Zebedee’s in our lives, and when we do, we’ll find a “follow me” moment and an invitation to step more fully into our own lives and become more truly ourselves. Will we drop our nets? Will we get out of our boats? Will we leave Old man Zebedee? The promise of Christ is that if we are willing to answer the “follow me” moments of our lives, we will surely step into the kin-dom, into the fullness of life, into our most authentic self.
A final note: Today, the Catholic Church needs people who are willing to answer their “follow me” moments, preparing the way for Jesus to be seen through a ministry of both male and female priests. If women are to be fully included in our faith and recognized as equal partners in the discipleship of Jesus, able to bring Christ to others, then our faith needs people of courage and love who will answer the call to “follow me” in order to make it happen.
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The Baptism of Jesus 1-10-21 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner
Exodus: 1:8-11, 22,2:1-10 Galatians 3:27-28 Mark 1:7-11
The Baptism of Jesus is a curious event. As I was preparing for this homily, I learned some things that I’d never understood before. We readily celebrate this scripture year after year when, in truth, Jesus had no need for this ritual. Let that sink in. Jesus didn’t need to be baptized. Let me explain. Baptism was introduced as a ritual of repentance, an immersion to purify, much like the Jewish ritual of “mikveh.” Everyone would’ve understood that, even the Gentiles, which is probably why John used it. A mikveh is a place constructed by the Jewish faithful using strict guidelines. It was essential to the Temple’s function. The water has to come from a natural source, be deep enough to cover an adult fully in water, with exact dimensions. Traditionally, the mikveh was used by both men and women to regain ritual purity after various events, according to regulations laid down in the Torah. It was essential for any Jewish community to have a mikveh in order to practice their faith. (It reminds me that any church built today almost always has a baptismal font—our modern remnant of the Jewish mikveh.)
For those of us who are not familiar with mikveh, it may be interesting to know that the Torah requires full immersion for men after having sex or whenever they come into contact with someone who was menstruating. For women, they must do full immersion after menstruation and after having a baby. It is customary for Orthodox Jews to immerse before Yom Kippur. Men often use a mikveh before a Jewish holiday. Some perform daily mikvehs. Converts to Judaism are required to undergo full immersion in water. (Does that remind you of anything?)
Jesus would’ve known and even practiced these mikvehs after his reading in the Temple at age 12. They didn’t have what we know as “bar mitzvas” at that time but allowing a young man to read from the Torah signifies this moving into adulthood. It’s a public commitment to studying scripture and following in God’s ways. As you know, Jesus read from Isaiah 61:1 at this time, which says:
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has tanointed me to bring good news to the poor;1
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives.”
Then Jesus said, “This reading is fulfilled in your hearing.” That’s pretty big. Many would’ve scoffed at such an announcement, even if they realized that Jesus was somehow different from other Hebrew boys.
Perhaps this is why when we get to today’s scripture reading, it goes a bit further. Jesus would’ve been 30 years old. He comes to be baptized by John. When John baptized Jesus, he was sanctioning the formal initiation of Jesus’s ministry. In other gospels, John puts up a fight, saying “No, Lord. It is you who should baptize me.” But Jesus says to John, “Let it be so for now.” In other words, “Settle down. Trust my judgment here. This is as it should be.” Jesus wants to role model how best to begin his work. So, he humbles himself to be fully human, in need of purification, through the sacrament of baptism. It gives us a very good example of the nature of Jesus. He’s not one to “Lord it over” others that he’s the Messiah. No. He wants to be very clear that he sees himself on our level, joining in what it means to be human. It forms the basis of his ministry. Jesus is always looking to connect, to join with, not to separate or claim power.
Some traditions believe that this baptism is when Jesus became fully divine. Afterall, this is the first time that God declared Jesus as his son. All other times, it was done by the angels or by Jesus himself. But here, 18 years after Jesus proclaimed who he was, God shows up on the scene to announce that Jesus is His son. There’s nothing like the heavens opening up and a “voice” crying out from the great beyond to get our attention. The words that God says were meant to be profound: “This is my own. My Beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is of God, fully divine and fully human.
It’s no mistake that our Second Reading is from Galatians 3:28. We are not ones to memorize scripture verses but this is one that I have memorized. It’s very important because it forms the foundation for Roman Catholic Womenpriests. These are Paul’s words. Paul speaks them to help emphasize what Jesus’s ministry was all about. “There is no Jew or Greek/Gentile, slave nor free, male or female.” Paul is saying that these differences do not exist in Christ. These words are as powerful now and they were then.
After this week’s riots and efforts to destroy America as we know it, we do well to reclaim these words. When Jesus was baptized, he was proclaiming that his ministry, his words of love and inclusion were for all people. As he began to preach and teach, the concept of unconditional love is laid out again and again. Each time Jesus encountered the marginalized, we are reminded of our basic Christian values: love for all, especially those who are prejudiced against or treated wrongly by others.
Our greatest challenge in our current times will be to show love towards those who caused damage and harm to not only sacred buildings, but towards those who tried to help. One officer has died. He symbolizes the efforts to hold back hatred and violence. He lost his life trying. So too does Jesus in the end.
We commemorate today’s baptism of Jesus as we are challenged again and again to NOT react out of anger and fear but out of love and reconciliation. True, there needs to be repentance on many of the mob’s part. But they were led by a man they believed to be their hero. Trump ordered them to do what they did. The specifics were never stated, but they were understood as part of what was “necessary” to take back the government. Now there is a second threat of violence being planned for Sunday, January 17th. That’s one week from today. We cannot know exactly what might happen, but we should be prepared, and we should pray.
May Jesus’ baptism remind us of our own baptism when we were pledged by our parents to follow in the footsteps of our leader, Jesus the Christ. May our love flow as easily as does water through our hands. Now that we are washing our hands more, may we remember the beautiful ritual of purification that Jesus insisted he participate in. Baptism. And may each drop of water from tears of sorrow or celebration be shed to bring all to unity in this same Christ. Amen.
Homily for Christmas, 2020 (Rev. Mary Kay Kusner)
Readings: Isaiah 60:1-2,4a, 5ab, 15 Psalm 97 Hebrews 1:1-3, 6, 8-9 Luke 2: 1-20
The Messiah has arrived! After the year we’ve had, we welcome this embodied hope all the more. No one could’ve told us back in February/March that we were going to have to be more resilient than expected. No one could’ve imagined we would learn how to manage. Some of us have learned that we are good at withdrawing from the world. For others, the added crisis of job loss or death of a loved one might have been too much. Which is where Christmas comes in—we are Christian people. Our history is believing that the light will come, eventually. We choose to hope even when there is no evidence for that. So we see the Christmas story in a different light this year.
We have been living in darkness throughout this pandemic. It’s been a long road. No one could have known how bad it would get. Many lives have been lost. At this time, over 1.7 million people across the globe have died. And we need to think globally. It’s what has united us—despite all our differences, death from a common virus is a shared grief. We grieve the injustice of it all. We grieve our inability to control this life. We grieve not knowing how much loss will come.
There are those who have had to endure much more loss than most of us. Those who have died from the prejudice towards black lives. Us privileged white citizens, cannot readily relate to that pain. The fear of a mother for her young black son, just because he is a young black man. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to become more self-aware that we, as whites, have implicit bias. No matter how good we believe we are, no matter how noble our intentions, we contribute to racism on a daily basis, simply because we see black as bad. Try taking the Harvard Implicit bias test. (https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html) It will devastate you. It did me. We have been raised to believe that black is bad, something to be feared, which is why more blacks keep being shot by police for no reason. Even when there is no threat, simply seeing a black man emerge from his own garage, caused fear enough to shoot him in Columbus, Ohio this week. And then the police watched while he died on the ground in front of them. You can hear them shouting for him to “put his hands up.” He is gasping to breathe and dies soon thereafter. These lives matter. We have to choose to change our attitudes so that our behavior changes as well.
Today, we celebrate the birth of a man who embodied change. 2,000 years later, the effort continues. Jesus was born to a poor, young woman who allowed God to co-create with her. Mary was young, probably about 15 years old but she had a faith that enabled her to trust. Those who live without certainty of survival might be more reliant on God to provide. I wonder if Mary had learned to trust because she had to. At the age of 3, it is said that she was consecrated and went to live in the temple. She had been a long-awaited child, her parents having been infertile for many years. Finally, her dad Joachim fasted for 40 days in the hope of having a child. Mary was the result of that.
In our nativity story in today’s gospel, there are shepherds who get a visit from angels, telling them that someone important has been born. Why shepherds? Maybe because they were the only people who weren’t so busy that they could notice the sky at night? Wealthier folks would’ve been indoors when darkness arrived. So it is that the lowly shepherds get the big news first. The poor and the powerless are the featured characters in this story. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because Jesus has come to teach us that the goal in life is not achieving power and might; that the world needs to change.
For too long, the powerful have ruled the world. The poor and marginalized have suffered and been demeaned. Jesus teaches how wrong this is; that those who are considered “least” need to be seen as significant. That those who have no power, live in the way that we should emulate. Those who have no certainty, live with a faith that grounds them because it must. They having nothing else to interfere with their faith.
That message began with Jesus’ humble birth. It’s a story that has been glamourized over the centuries. We need to peel away the layers of “pretty and nice” to see beyond that to the stark reality that Mary gave birth in the dirt, in a cave with no pain relievers, no help-- or was there an unnamed woman who heard her cries in labor and came to help? (Women are left out of so much of scripture.) Mary had no comforts of a warm home, with familiar spaces and smells. It’s as if God wants to make it very clear that this extreme is where life should be lived, stripped of all the trappings of the experience of comfort and wealth. Or if not completely stripped, at least honed down to a simplicity and awareness of how power complicates the yearnings of the human heart.
Jesus was at risk all his life. He weathered the sicknesses of any young child who didn’t have health care. And he opened himself to learning the traditions of his family. No one noticed him as a youth. He was a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scriptures. His humble beginnings helped keep him aware of how precious life is and how much love matters. He never gained power that diverted his attention. Even when he might’ve used his spiritual power to gain advantage, he refused to do so. We should appreciate how much his life can help to focus our own.
Isaiah’s words announce that thrill of change; that the Messiah has come. That the long time of darkness has ended. Notice all the references to light: “Glorious rays shine upon you. God has dawned upon you. You shall be radiant at what you see.” We’ve just gotten past the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The very next day, my husband Dave and I were thrilled that it wasn’t completely dark by 5:00pm. That may be an exaggeration; such is the longing of our hearts for more light. Isaiah is speaking of more than nature, the rays of the sun or that dawn. He is speaking to that inner longing we all have; the longing for what is good. Love. Mutual respect. Fairness. Kindness. It’s what our world needs to shift towards. Perhaps the pandemic in its shared experience of crisis and pain will unite us to better priorities. Each night on the news there are heart-warming stories of people helping one another. Now with a new president, we can be hopeful that basic respect for the “other” in our midst will return. Certainly, our climate will be more protected. Will that translate into better protecting and saving of all life? Let’s hope so. I’m weary of the darkness, of hate and evil doings.
Let’s rekindle the hope of all that is promised by Isaiah, by the angels who said, “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.” Yes. Finally. A vaccine. Maybe a stimulus package that will bring money for jobs, food and rent. Police who learn not just to shoot because of their fear. Women in more positions to make change. Inclusion not separation by a wall. Keep the list going. Make it part of your prayer for the New Year. Together, let us rejoice. Our spirits are once again renewed and we are so grateful for the God who comes and co-creates with us. Amen.
Fourth Sunday of Advent December 20, 2020
The First Christmas Carol - The Magnificat
By Nick Smith
Here’s how everything happened:
The setting is Nazareth, in ancient Palestine. A devout Jew, Mary is a rural peasant — young, female, a member of a people subjected to economic exploitation by powerful ruling groups. Suddenly, the angel Gabriel shows up and tells Mary that God has chosen her to be the mother of the Messiah and that her child is to be conceived in a miraculous way, and that her Aunt Elizabeth is also pregnant. Mary suddenly finds herself pregnant, and Joseph, with whom she’s betrothed in an arranged marriage, knows he’s not the father. It is a time of great uncertainty, for Mary faced a bleak future. Back then, when an unwed teenage girl was found pregnant it usually resulted in devastating retribution from the community. Matthew’s gospel account informs us that Joseph was planning to quietly call off the wedding. His discreetness was his attempt to protect Mary from public humiliation and social ostracism. According to Jewish law, Mary faced the very real threat of being stoned as an adulteress.
As soon as Mary receives this news, she rushes off to visit Elizabeth in the hill country. She arrives at the home of her Aunt Elizabeth, to stay for a few months. In the Gospel of James, Elizabeth is identified as Mary’s mother, Anne’s, older sister; and thus, Mary’s aunt. The question we ask ourselves is – why does she urgently need to see Elizabeth?
It is probable that Mary wanted to help her Aunt in the final weeks of her pregnancy, but I think more than that Mary rushes off to see Elizabeth to make sure that what the angel said was true. If Mary finds Elizabeth 6 months pregnant, then she knows that what the angel said is true and she knows that God can bring about children in miraculous ways. A pregnant Elizabeth gives Mary the assurance that what is going to take place in her is from God, and of all the people Mary knows, Elizabeth would be the one to understand what she was going through. If nothing else, Elizabeth would believe her story about the angel and finding herself pregnant.
When we stop and think about it, this entire scene is amazing. Elizabeth doesn’t know Mary is coming and she certainly doesn’t know Mary is pregnant but as soon as Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice something profound happens deep within her. Not only does her child leap for joy because he recognizes the child Mary is carrying, but Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit which helps her understand that Mary is pregnant and that the child she is carrying is the long-awaited Messiah. And all of this happens for one important reason, to help assure Mary that what the angel said is true. Walking in faith is good, but it doesn’t have to be blind faith.
Mary needed this time of encouragement, but you know, I think Joseph did as well. Joseph was from Bethlehem, which was just a few miles from where Zechariah and Elizabeth lived. It makes perfect sense that Joseph would have travelled to Ein Karm with Mary; after all, a 13-year-old girl would not be expected to travel 100 miles through the hill country filled with bandits by herself. Now while the angel gave Joseph the assurance that Mary’s story was true and that the child she carried was from God; think about what seeing a pregnant Elizabeth must have done to help Joseph come to terms with the situation.
After Elizabeth shouts her recognition of the messiah, Mary sings her own song, The Magnificat. Mary’s song flows unpremeditated from her heart. Her words are her spontaneous response upon being pronounced as blessed by Elizabeth, the expectant mother of John the Baptist. I don’t envision Mary as a radiant woman peacefully composing the Magnificat. Instead see her as “a girl who sings defiantly to her God through her tears, fists clenched against an unknown future.” When I do this, Mary’s courageous song of praise becomes a radical resource for those seeking to honor the holy amid the suffering and conflicts of real life. In most telling, the Song of Mary is about how a girl with no sexual experience joyfully accepted what the God of Israel dealt out to her — a bizarre pregnancy, but I don’t think that is the case at all.
Ultimately, The Magnificat is about a cosmic inversion — a turning of the tables. The lowest become the highest and the highest become the lowest. It’s no surprise that Mary’s song is popular among peasants in Catholic countries, and equally unsurprising that governments from time to time have banned its recitation. Oligarchies in Argentina and Guatemala, in the 1970s and 1980s, banned the song. Britain outlawed it in India and Germany would not allow it during Hitler’s regime. They were alarmed by the subversive verses.
Normally when we read or listen to Mary’s Magnificat, we’re tempted to soften its message and spiritualize its meaning, but what did Mary mean by her words. What sorts of things did Mary expect God to do through His Anointed One. In other words, what did Mary expect the long-awaited messiah to be like? What did she see as the messiah’s mission on earth? What sorts of things did Mary anticipate He would accomplish?
The Messiah that Mary anticipated is referred to as the Mighty One who topples rulers, scatters the proud, and sends the rich away empty-handed. However, He also is mindful of the lowly, exalts the humble, fills the hungry with good things, and helps His servant Israel. Mary anticipates that the Messiah will bring about “wondrous reversals” in the world. She envisions God’s Anointed One upsetting the status quo by turning virtually everything upside down. It is an inversion of human structures and values. It is a hard, strong song about the power of God and the powerlessness of people. It is a message of hope for the future, an introduction to the Kin-dom of God and a declaration of righteousness for all people.
Mary’s song teaches us that God uses the small and the weak to bring about God’s true glory. She believes that God reverses the wisdom of this world and makes strength of spirit perfect in weakness. The proud boast of themselves; they have no need of God. And so, God resists the proud and favors the humble. Mary shows us that God does not save us because we are great, rich, or mighty, but because we are humble, weak, and helpless.
Still, the song is best understood not as a declaration of class warfare. Biblical interpreters who appreciate the political significance of The Magnificat tend to see it as a call on the affluent everywhere to seek a new relationship with the poor and marginalized, one that begins with listening to them. That is a fitting, if not particularly soothing, message during this professed season of goodwill towards all our neighbors. God’s gift of Jesus, the Messiah, is one that should transform all of us and all the world.
_________________________________________________________________Homily: Second Sunday of Advent
Rev. Mary Kay Kusner, MA, BCC
Isaiah 40: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (Cor 13:11-13), Gospel: Mark 1:1-8
This is our second Sunday in Advent. We’re getting closer to the celebration of Christ’s birth. That gives us great hope during this time of darkness, both literally and “pandemic-ly.” It’s been a long haul. Advent gives us a way of ritualizing our endurance as we wait for the “Light” which comes in many forms. We regained hope with the recent presidential election. We regained hope with word of the vaccine. We regained hope in renewing our faith practices by putting up Christmas lights or simply by lighting our advent candles. Each time, we need to intentionally feed our spirits. God is coming. Hope is renewed. Christ will be born.
In today’s readings, it’s Isaiah who gives hope to a people who have suffered much. His listeners have just survived a time of banishment, during the Babylonian exile. It was three long years of being enslaved. Their temple had been destroyed. Certainly, some had lost hope. So the word we hear again and again is “comfort;” give comfort to my people. And then, the command to “Prepare the way. Make a straight path for God.” It was time to act, to begin again.
In our world, we might see this call to make a straight path as a call to make it easier for others to find God, to experience the God of hope and encouragement. A straight path is much easier to navigate than a crooked one. Since we’ve moved to the west side of Iowa City, I’m amazed by all the curvy roads. It makes me slow down and have to concentrate on my driving. Not a bad thing but, it gets in the way of my getting to where I’m going. One road is so curvy that it even has speed humps! When a road is straight, we can see ahead and anticipate any potholes or rough patches. The same is true spiritually. A straight path to God is one where there are no man-made rules that get in the way. Only males can be ordained? Only heterosexuals are not “intrinsically disordered?” Only married or single people can receive communion? On and on the rules go, creating huge potholes that many have fallen into on their path to God. It’s our job to fill in those holes, to rework the road so that all are truly welcome, as Jesus taught us they are. Even our website now reflects this. We will continue to find ways to emphasize that our church means what we say and sing; all are welcome in this place.
In our second reading, Paul is reaffirming how we should care for one another: “Mend your ways, encourage one another, have a common spirit and live in peace.” Such a loving message, one that reminds us how we need to offer kindness, even in simple ways, during times of struggle. The voice of encouragement can be so healing, even across a Zoom link. Reach out and offer those words of hope and healing.
Finally, in our gospel reading, Mark begins by quoting Isaiah. It’s a way of preparing the listener that whomever he’s going to be talking about was referenced by the prophet. The people knew their scripture. They’ve heard the prophecy. So, we are to understand that John the Baptist is that voice in the wilderness. Maybe that’s why he’s described as a wild man, covered in camel’s hair and eating wild honey and bugs. Not what we’d imagine for the person who is preparing the way for God. He embodies a wild, trusting, no frills kind of faith. He is certain that he is NOT the one. He keeps pointing to Jesus, the true messiah, his relative, whom he is not worthy to untie his sandals. Untying sandals is the task of a slave—so John is setting himself below the status of a slave to demonstrate how great Jesus is as the messiah.
But John was wise enough to understand that in order to prepare the way, he needed to use something that all the people would’ve understood. For this new way of preparing, John used immersion in water, something that the Jewish people had done (and still do today) for ritual purity. Everyone would’ve understood what he was doing. For Jews, it is called “mikvah” or ritual immersion in water. Before you could go worship, you would perform a mikvah for spiritual purity. You would make yourself pure so that you could enter into the presence of God. Another Jewish ritual is called Tvilah which is required for conversion to Judaism. It too is being fully immersed in water and can be repeated, while baptism is to be done only once. As you can see, using water was part of acknowledging the need for cleansing in Jewish tradition. It was a preparation ritual in itself. John knew this. He is the first person to use immersion as preparation for Jesus. We now know it as baptism but it was John who determined that this would be the way.
John was so certain about who he was. He had no fear in doing what he was called to do. Which is why his preparation was so effective. When someone truly believes in their call, their mission, others take notice and are forever changed. Have you ever felt like John the Baptist, doing what you knew was needed in spite of what others might think or say? We are in need of this kind of courage these days. Let us take comfort and then, muster our truth as we prepare the way for the God who is to come. The way forward is now much more straight than it was just a month ago. How can you be part of bringing God into our world?
SERMON 11-22-20 MATTHEW 25: 31-46 HOMILY BY NICK SMITH
The Ecumenical Council [Vatican II] issued its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions on October 25, 1965. First, the Council affirms that “all men [people] form but one community”. This is so because they “all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth” and they “all share a common destiny, namely God”, whose “providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all men [people]”. Therefore, the answer to ecumenism is the assertion that everyone is actually Catholic. The document notes that people look to different religions for an answer to the “riddles of human existence”—the nature of who we are, the purpose of life, moral concerns, the problem of suffering, the meaning of death, and questions of judgment, reward and punishment.
The document goes on to state:
• In every person there is “a certain awareness of a hidden power, which lies behind the course of nature and the events of human life”, and this awareness and recognition “results in a way of life imbued with a deep religious sense.”
• Two examples of this basic sort of religion are given: Hinduism, with its exploration of divine mystery in both myth and philosophy; and Buddhism, which “testifies to the essential inadequacy of this changing world.”
• The document states that Islam has benefited by borrowing elements of Judaism and Christianity. The Church has a high regard for Muslims because they worship “God, who is one, living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth” and they strive to do God’s will.
• The Council acknowledges the special ties which link “the people of the New Covenant to the stock of Abraham”, and so briefly explores the relationship of the Church to Judaism. Because Christ has reconciled Jews and Gentiles through His cross, “neither all Jews indiscriminately at that time, nor Jews today, can be charged with the crimes committed during the passion.”
Today’s gospel is about the judging of the Nations or the judging of the Gentiles. Who are the sheep and who are the goats? We may think we have a clear view of that distinction, and a solid basis on which to judge others, but this parable seeks to refute this self-righteous notion. The parable emphasizes the connection between seeing a need and acting on it. It is reminiscent of the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. The parable says that all three observers of the man in the ditch "saw him." The first two engaged in a twofold action. They "saw him" and then, in response to that sighting, they "passed by on the other side." The response of the third person is threefold. He "saw him," he was "moved with pity," and then he took concrete action to express his compassion and assist the injured man.
Here in the parable of the Last Judgment what makes some blessed is the fact that, though they didn't realize it, they saw a need and helped—they saw and helped Jesus. By contrast, what makes others cursed is that they never really saw Jesus because they never saw the need. The king addresses each of two groups as either blessed or cursed and announces the consequences—enter the kingdom or depart from him. He states his criterion for making these assignments, a need that they either met or did not meet: "I was hungry, thirsty, a stranger, naked, sick, or in prison and you fed me, gave me drink, welcomed me, clothed me, visited me."
Then both groups ask the question. The blessed ask the "when" question? "When did we see you hungry, etc. and meet your needs?" The answer to both the blessed and the accursed group is the same. "Truly I tell you, just as you did it (or did not do it) to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
The kin-dom of heaven shows up where we least expect it. The presence of Jesus is hidden in the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned. They are not only the "brothers" of Jesus, but Jesus identifies himself with them. As in the Good Samaritan, the one who both saw and acted with compassion was the neighbor to the man in the ditch, so here it is the group that both saw and met the needs of the suffering that is blessed
Paradoxically, blessedness comes from active compassion toward those that society and, in some cases, religion, have judged as accursed. The parable points out that we as individuals, as churches, and as a society, are often not particularly good at judging others. We are too harsh, or we are too lax. We judge by appearances, or we make assumptions about the depths of others' feelings and experiences that are not ours to make. We exclude and we make allowances on other grounds than those set forth in this parable. When we set ourselves up as judge and jury over others, we promote ourselves above our human competence.
In this judgement parable, the emphasis is not just on words, but deeds—and given the dual surprise of the sheep and the goats, it seems as if the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. However, we must understand that the ones being judged are not Christians, but “the nations.” This is the traditional term for gentiles. The question being handled in this parable is not about the ethics of Christians or the Church or even Jesus’ disciples, but is a response to the least of these on the part of the nations, the gentiles. What concerns this judgment is not the ethics of the faithful, but the judgment of the gentiles: those who would either respond positively or negatively to the “little ones,” the “least of these” that make up Christ’s community. This parable is the final part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind because it answers the question: what will God do with all the others outside the Christian community of believers.
The mystery here is that whatever this end vision is, it is not about non-believers getting theirs in the end and that Christians will get to watch them suffer. The “others” outside of our churches are going to be “otherized,” but seen in the unconditional love of God, which extends even to enemies. This parable of judgment is far more focused on the life of mercy that has or has not been lived by those who call out “Lord, Lord!” The criterion of judgment is not one’s confession but the mercy we have lived.
Once again, the “good works” has less to do with ethical actions than with living a life of mercy in which Jesus is revealed. Rather than considering ourselves as holders or keepers of the mystery of God (in our liturgy, in our works, in our piety), we, as Christians, must discover that God’s judgement is spoken through the needs of our neighbors.
This, finally, brings us to the doctrine of justification. This belief concerns God’s gracious judicial verdict in advance of the day of judgement, pronouncing that those who trust in God are forgiven and are declared morally upright in the sight of God. Before God’s law humans stand condemned and there is no way they can put themselves right with God. In the gospel God reveals his way of putting sinners right with himself. Jesus became the sinner’s representative and substitute. As God’s obedient servant, he lived a righteous life and died the atoning death of the cross. Justification is one of the key components of God’s saving work. It is by faith alone that sinners are justified.
God’s justification of sinners by faith alone occurs without the addition of human deeds or the church’s administration is a biblical truth discovered by Protestant Reformers and has been agreed to by the Roman Catholic Church. Our faith, however, leads us to perform good works and deeds—it is an outgrowth of our faith by recognizing the needs of others. Non-Christians are also included in this justification by faith alone. Their good works and deeds reveal a faith motivation that is recognized by God and by the Christian community.
Justification provides salvation and good works and deeds provide sanctification—living in the state of proper functioning and used for the purposes that God intends.