March 2009 Sánchez Sunday Commentaries & Sample Homilies (B)
For commentaries on A Cycle readings for Lent 3, 4 and 5, download file on Celebration Web site among March 2009 resources.
FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT (B)
March 1, 2009
Temptation, a Place to Encounter God
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez
Gen 9:8-15
1 Pet 3:18-22
Mark 1:12-15
Each time the Lord’s Prayer is prayed, it includes the petition: “Lead us not into temptation.” Louis Evely has described this English translation of the original Aramaic or Greek phrase as “really blasphemous… as if God could wish to lead us to do evil!” (We Dare to Say Our Father, Burns and Oats, Ltd., London: 1968). Evely suggested that a better rendering might be: “Do not let us give way or give in to that which leads us away from you, Lord.” Today, as we recall the temptation of Jesus, told ever so briefly and succinctly by Mark, the narrative invites our reflection upon the manner with which each of us contends with this struggle in our own lives.
For some, temptation represents a sort of bartering or deal-making whereby circumstances are manipulated until the desired result is achieved. William Bausch (A World of Stories for Preachers and Teachers, Twenty-Third Publications, Mystic, Conn.: 1998) offers the following story by way of illustration: A very overweight man decided to lose several pounds and went on a diet. He even changed the route he usually drove to work so as to avoid passing his favorite bakery. One morning not long into his diet, he arrived at his office with a large, sugary, calorie-loaded cake.
Surprised by his lack of resolve, his fellow workers chided him, but he only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “What could I do?” he said. This is a very special cake. What happened is that, by force of habit, I drove by the bakery today. There in the window were trays loaded with goodies and the aroma was tantalizing.
“Well, I decided that this was no accident that I happened to pass by this way, so I prayed, ‘Lord, if you really want me to have one of those delicious cakes, let me find a parking space right in front of the bakery. And sure enough, on the ninth time around the block, there it was!’ ”
Peter Gomes suggests that as amusing as such a story is, it represents the sort of bargaining that may begin with something as simple as a diet and carry over into much more significant issues such as fidelity in marriage, honesty in finance, truth-telling in conversation and responsibility in conduct (The Good Book, HarperCollins, San Francisco: 1996). Temptation, therefore, is not a game of manipulation but a serious encounter. In order to emerge from this encounter without incurring sin, Gomes, basing his counsel on the example of Jesus, offers four helpful suggestions: (1) Name the temptation. Be morally explicit and identify evil in particular rather than in general. Naming the evil we face makes it utterly real and sharpens our attempt to focus and to fix the situation. (2) Name the tempter. This unmasks any delusion we may try to hide behind and helps to deflate our attempts to rationalize the sin, as in, “I had to embezzle money from work to pay for my mother’s hospital bills.” (3) Practice resistance. Moral training, like any other form of training (e.g. music, sports), says Gomes, takes discipline to acquire. Etymologically, “discipline,” like “disciple,” comes from the root of the word “to learn”; we can learn resistance to evil by looking at Jesus and others, such as the mythic Noah and his family and the community of 1 Peter, who have gone before us in strength and faith. (4) Call for help. Relying on one’s own resources alone is a recipe for disaster. Lay claim to the grace that God so willingly gives. Share with friends. Consult a mentor. Entrust yourself entirely to God while summoning forth your own greatest strengths. Be courageous!
Finally, rather than looking upon temptation as a sort of “jousting with Satan,” the sacred authors encourage us to follow Jesus’ lead and to regard the experience of temptation as a time and a place in which to meet and lean on God. In that encounter and in our reliance on grace, our struggle for truth and authenticity will be blessed. While the existence of evil cannot be denied and the human penchant for self-gratification and self-aggrandizement cannot be ignored, neither can the phenomenon we call temptation be regarded as entirely negative. On the contrary, this continuing struggle to choose between good and evil, between God and self, between self and others, can be a graced and positive experience. Jesus emerged from his struggle with temptation stronger and more given to God and to the mission for which he was sent. We too are challenged to accept and endure and emerge from the experience of temptation as changed people, humbler but stronger and more deeply aware of the presence and the power of God in our every thought, word and action.
Gen 9:8-15
Part of the so-called primeval history in the book of Genesis (Gen 1-11), this pericope represents the conclusion of the lengthy flood narrative (Gen 6:5-9:17). From the time of Old Testament scholar Hermann Gunkel (d. 1932), the narratives that constitute the primeval history have been called myths. A difficult term that many equate with “falsehood” or “fairly tale,” myth in the Hebrew scriptures actually functions as a highly theologized and poetic foundational story that provides the reader with the basic self-understanding of a society and its raison d’être. These poetic narratives are etiological, in that they characteristically portray great founding events and answer some of life’s basic questions, such as: Who am I? How did I get here? For what purpose am I here? Why pain? Why death? Why destruction and loss? Why is there conflict among this world’s peoples?
In the flood narrative, the ancient authors offer their views on what may have been an actual natural phenomenon: a devastating flood that covered much of their world as they knew it. Similar flood stories predate the biblical account by centuries and are preserved in several other literatures of the ancient near Eastern world. Each story has its featured character and its own interpretation of the flood.
In the biblical account, the Priestly (P) and Yahwistic (J) sources have been interwoven to form a composite text that attests to the belief that God’s faithfulness to the just can never be disrupted even by a flood. Throughout the calamity, Noah and company were protected, and all survived to enjoy a new beginning, founded in a new covenant with God. Because most of today’s text is from the sixth-century Priestly source, scholars have suggested that this oracle, presented as spoken by God, was to encourage the exiles. Just as the mythic flood disrupted life on earth, so the exile could be compared to the historical experience of that disruption. And, just as the flood story ended well for Noah et al., so should the exiles have hope that they too will eventually emerge from their “flood” of loss and grief and begin life anew. This God has promised, and on this they can surely rely.
As a sign of that promised new beginning with God, a bow would be set by God in the clouds. Walter Brueggemann encourages readers of this text not to overly romanticize the notion of the bow(Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). While many propose that God’s bow should be understood simply as the seven-hued rainbow that arches across the sky after a rain, Brueggemann suggests that the bow is meant to be seen as a weapon of war and a sign of the destruction that God has allowed to assault the faithless. That the bow is now suspended in the clouds indicates that God has called off the assault; thus, the disarmed weapon becomes a sign of peace and reconciliation. More than a colorful arc across the sky the bow stands forever as a pledge of God’s decision to forgive and forge a new relationship with sinners. As such, the bow also functions as an invitation to trust that, with God, there is no situation and no person that cannot be changed for the better.
1 Pet 3:18-22
One of the seven catholic or general epistles, 1 Peter (although attributed to the apostle Peter) was probably written by a disciple whose intent it was to carry on the work and preaching of Peter among the churches in northern Asia Minor. Writing in Greek around the year 70-90, the ancient author offered encouragement to his fellow believers who were suffering because of their faith. Although some identify their suffering as open persecution, Raymond E. Brown has led those who are of the opinion that the community being addressed in 1 Peter struggled with alienation(An Introduction to the New Testament, Doubleday, New York: 1997). Christians, explained Brown, were being reviled and abused by their fellow gentiles who could not understand the strange effects that the Gospel had produced in the converts’ lives. A glance at the larger literary context of this pericope will reveal a challenge proffered by the author, a challenge that continues to confront contemporary believers. Rather than succumb to the revilement and abuse heaped on them by their fellow gentiles, the recipients of 1 Peter were urged to continue to live counterculture lives, despite the personal cost to them. Because social pressures continue to tempt Christians toward laxity and a less-than-absolute faithfulness, the message of 1 Peter bears repeating and deserves our serious attention.
To encourage readers to remain faithful, the author of 1 Peter cited the example of Jesus, who also suffered at the hands of the unrighteous. His death was not the end of his life or his ministry; on the contrary, Jesus rose victorious from death and went on to preach to the spirits in prison (v. 19). In this text, these imprisoned spirits are identified as Noah’s unfaithful contemporaries. In other New Testament texts (Rom 10:7; Eph 4:9; Phil 2:10; Col 2:15) and inearly apocryphal literature (Ascension of Isaiah, Odes of Solomon, Gospel of Nicodemus, Melito of Sardis’ On the Pasch), there are references to Christ’s descent into hell to deliver the saints of the Old Testament. Suffice it to say, this phrase remains a curious uncertainty. There is, however, no uncertainty about the effect that Christ’s saving death had on all who lived before and all who would live after him.
To appropriate the effects of the Christ-event, believers are baptized into the dying and rising of Jesus. This watery passage to salvation was prefigured by the mythic voyage of Noah upon the flooded earth. Not a physical washing only, baptism cleanses and graces the conscience of believers, thus enabling them to choose what is right. However, as Pheme Perkins has pointed out, baptism does not create such a good conscience irrevocably(First and Second Peter, James and Jude, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1995). Rather, a good and true conscience must be daily cultivated through prayer and by grace. Only then will such a conscience help believers to remain faithful to their discipleship whenever and wherever the temptation to do otherwise may arise.
Mark 1:12-15
Departing from this common Marcan source and drawing on Quelle (Sayings Gospel) and other sources particular to each of them, Matthew and Luke have provided the Christian community with more detailed and perhaps more memorable accounts of the temptation of Jesus. Nevertheless, Mark wrote first, and for reasons of his own, he told of this event with an astonishing brevity.
Although brief, Mark’s account presents three major themes that were rooted in the richest traditions of the Hebrew scriptures. From the outset, the first evangelist clarified that in all that Jesus experienced, he was accompanied by the very Spirit of God. Having come upon him in the form of a dove at his baptism (1:10), the Spirit literally drove Jesus into the wilderness. By using the same verb that described Jesus’ casting or driving out demons (1:34; 3:15; 6:13), Mark underscored the importance of the Spirit’s role in accompanying Jesus into the wilderness. Important for Israel, important for John the Baptizer, the wilderness would be the place of Jesus’ testing as well as the place where, later, he would seek refuge with God apart from the crowds (1:35, 45; 6:31-32, 35). In every instance, the Spirit would be with Jesus to inspire and to guide him.
Second of the three themes is the reference to the 40 days of testing. Throughout the scriptures, the number 40 figured significantly in several important biblical accounts — the 40-day flood (Gen 7:4, 12, 17); Israel’s 40 years in the desert (Exod 16:35), Elijah’s foray into the desert (1 Kgs 19:48). In all these stories, God is featured as one who protects and preserves life even in the midst of danger. To mention the 40 days in reference to Jesus’ temptation suggests to readers that the presence and power of God was always with Jesus. Encouraged by this affirmation, believers are encouraged to rely on the same presence and power of God in their own struggles with evil and weakness.
Finally, the mention of the wild beasts and the protective angels further affirms the constant caring of God for the Son, who was sent into the world to save sinners. Jesus’ encounter with evil and danger here, at the very outset of his earthly mission, offers a prelude to the struggle he will accept and endure for the sake of others. That struggle began immediately after Jesus emerged from his wilderness experience. Announcing the kingdom and calling for repentance and belief, Jesus went forth to confront and overcome evil wherever and in whomever he found it. Jesus’ struggle against evil would end in victory only on the cross, thereby attesting to the Marcan characterization of him as the suffering Savior of sinners. In that capacity, he holds out strength to each of us and invites our trust and hope.
March 1, 2009 Sample Homily First Sunday of Lent
“Essence and Action”
Fr. James Smith
To fully appreciate the temptations of Jesus, we need to see how ordinary humans are tempted and then see how much applies to him. There is a split in us between essence and action: between what we are and what we do.
We cannot totally forgive without a residue of rancor. We can never completely rejoice without a hint of sadness. We cannot entirely applaud another’s success without a trace of envy. We cannot completely love another without a pocket of self-love.
It was different for Jesus. Because his divinity completely informed his humanity, his personality was whole. He did exactly what he was; he was totally what he did. When Jesus forgave, he did so without stint, as God forgives. Jesus did not just rejoice, he was joy. He did not just show mercy, he was mercy. He did not say: “I will show you the way,” he said: “I am the way.” He did not say: “I will tell you the truth,” he said: “I am the truth.” He did not say: “I will show you how to live,” he said: “I am life.” He once even said simply: “I am.” Not “I am strong or good or kind or wonderful” — he said: “I just am.”
And because each action expressed his essence, every temptation of Jesus was critical. Each time he chose anything at all, his whole being was on the line.
The temptation to turn stones to bread was not about bread. He would later multiply bread at will and even change bread into his body. No, this was about the human condition. He had purposely set himself in the desert, in the barest, most minimal conditions for survival. Having done so, would he now hedge his bet, or wait for God to decide whether he should live or starve to death? And that was symptomatic of a deeper temptation. Before accepting the conditions of the desert, he had accepted the whole human condition in all its wonder and agony. Would he now endure it to the end or ask for a divine dispensation?
The temptation to worship Satan in return for all the kingdoms was a false dilemma. The kingdoms belonged to his Father. Jesus could have had them anytime he wished. And he would finally inherit them when he died. This temptation was about compromising the wishes of God. Jesus knew that the meek would inherit the land of heaven, but not this particular plot; he knew that the weak lose, that the strong triumph, that the children of darkness are wiser than the children of light. Would he accept the hard facts of life on earth or would he make things easier for himself and his friends be rearranging reality?
The temptation to test God by attempting suicide is the most subtle but perhaps the most devious. When a lover demands: “Prove that you love me,” that love is dead at the core. Love cannot survive the virus of doubt. Even if the beloved proves true, the lover has betrayed a basic mistrust that cannot be undone. Jesus was repulsed at the very thought of a sign and called those who demanded a sign an “evil generation.”