May 2007 Sánchez Commentaries and Sample Homilies

May 2007 Sánchez Commentaries and Sample Homilies

May 2007 Sánchez Commentaries and Sample Homilies

FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

May 6, 2007

The Great Qualifier

Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

Acts 14:21-27

Rev 21:1-5

John 13:31-33, 34-35

Earlier, in those gospels that we call synoptic, the evangelists Mark, Matthew and Luke each offered their version of Jesus’ teaching on the greatest commandment. Essentially similar, each version combined two familiar texts from the Hebrew Scriptures, viz., the Shema Israel or Deut 6:5 (“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength”) and Lev 19;18b (“You shall love your neighbor as yourself”). That Jesus quoted these two mandates and insisted that these were of equal importance was a challenge that continues to call forth our best efforts on a daily basis. However, and as is reflected in today’s gospel, the Johannine Jesus has made an even greater demand upon believers by requiring that our love for one another should be “such as my love has been for you” (John 13:34). This qualifier is nothing short of astounding in that it demands that we love as Jesus loves, without question, without condition, without limit; this qualifier demands that we share and bear the burdens of another such that we are willing even to die that they might live.

This qualifier of the Johannine Jesus calls those who would be his disciples to an almost impossible way of loving. Nevertheless, and as Walter Burghardt (Preaching the Just Word, Yale University Press, New Haven, CT: 1996) has pointed out, it is not an invitation; it is a command. This way of loving does not love in proportion to merit, but, as Jesus loved; it is not a quid pro quo, but a self-giving, over and above the demands of mere human ethics. This kind of love impelled Jesus to take on our flesh, to be born as we are born, to thirst, to hunger, to grow weary as we do. This love, insists Burghardt, moved Jesus to respond with compassion to a hungry crowd, and more than compassion, it prompted him to a proactive attending to their hungers. Because of his love, Jesus wept with bereaved sisters over a dead brother as well as over a city that refused his love. This love caused Jesus to spend himself for the bedeviled and the bewildered as well as for the bellicose and the belligerent, the poor, the outcast, the marginalized. What shall the command of Jesus prompt us to do? How shall we love as he has loved us?

Through the centuries, some have had the courage and conviction to love as Jesus loved. These stand out as having done what most of us find impractical if not impossible. Among these memorable persons are a Paul and a Barnabas, whose love led them to reach out to others who had not yet learned or experienced that love (first reading, Acts). John, the Seer, similarly loved and through his visions (second reading, Rev) tried to assure his readers that such a manner of loving will eventually lead to union with God, forever. Nearer to our times are an Albert Schweitzer, a Mother Teresa of Calcutta, a Maxmillian Kolbe, a Dorothy Day, a Mohandas Gandhi, an Oscar Romero. We tell their stories again and again and while we admire, most of us, if we are truthful with ourselves, think that such a love eludes us. So pure, it even seems unreal and when we allow it to slip into the realm of the unreal, such a way of loving also goes untried.

To aid us in our trying such a way of loving, we turn to those who have made a habit of realizing the impossible and practicing the impractical. “We can love as Jesus loved,” insisted Martin Luther King, Jr. (A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings of Martin Luther King, Jr., Harper and Row, New York, NY: 1980), “because God is deeply involved in our lives. The love of God operates in the human heart; therefore we can love everyone, even those who persecute us.”

Also convinced of the profound involvement of God in the human condition, Oscar Romero (Marie Dennis et al., Oscar Romero, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, NY: 2000) insisted that ours is not a “sky God” who watches from a distance or a “pocket God” who can be manipulated to sanction the greed and savagery of those in power. Ours is a God who lives deeply within the blood and guts of everyday life, a divinity within, whose reign of love, compassion and peace will ultimately prevail if only …. and this is where we come in. We can, indeed, love others, as Jesus has loved us, not because we have achieved a level of virtue that makes it so, but because we have deliberately surrendered ourselves to the living, loving, blood and guts, God who chooses to dwell within us. This God loved us through Jesus; now it is ours to let God live and love in us and through us. Only with God, only because of the divinity within, can we keep Jesus’ mandate and its astounding qualifier: “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Acts 14:21-27

In their book entitled Jesus Freaks, Stories of Those Who Stood for Jesus (Albury Publishing, Tulsa, IL: 1999), Toby McKeehan and Mark Heimermann present a compilation of stories. Some are as old as the first Christian century; others are as new as today. Each story portrays a witness or witnesses for Jesus and an account of the personal cost of their discipleship. Alongside the stories of Stephen and James, early martyrs for the faith, are those of more current witnesses for Christ, e.g., Ray Pontoh, a fifteen year old, killed for his faith in Indonesia, and Gao Feng of China, imprisoned for refusing to denounce Christ. In the telling of all the stories of those who stood for Jesus, faith and dedication are mingled with suffering and pain; the deaths of these many disciples was not an uncommon occurrence. Those who read these stories of courage and commitment cannot help but be encouraged to be similarly strong and vocal and active in living the faith. Surely, Luke wished to extend similar encouragement to his readers when he kept them abreast of the efforts of Paul, Barnabas and all those others who worked at planting the seeds of the faith that we still call our own.

Today’s first reading picks up the story of Paul and Barnabas at Derbe, on the border of Galatia, the easternmost point of their missionary journey. From there, the two witnesses for Christ retraced their steps, making stops in those communities they had already evangelized so as to offer support and guidance and to ensure that each was stable and thriving in the faith. This narrative is important, explains I. Howard Marshall (Acts, Inter-Varsity Press, Leicester, UK: 1984), in that it teaches about the way the Church must live in a hostile environment and equip itself accordingly.

Another important element of the story is the conviction on the part of those early witnesses that their efforts were being directed by God. To be more precise, it was their firm belief that the mission to the Gentiles was foreordained by God who remained ever present, through the Spirit, to further that mission and the manner in which it was being conducted by Paul and Barnabas. Despite the fact that certain Jews were traveling in their wake, attempting to correct what they regarded as false teaching, Paul and Barnabas kept to their task. Despite the fact that their preaching sometimes drew negative or unwanted responses (at Iconium, some attempted to stone the apostles, 14:1-7; at Lystra, some tried to worship them as Zeus and Hermes, 14:8-18, while others did stone Paul and left him for dead, 14:19), the two missionaries were undeterred.

Their example and the example of so many who stood and who still stand for Jesus continue to speak to the Church. When we would prefer the convenience and safety of the institution, the example of Paul, Barnabas et al prompts us to venture forth into the uncharted and perhaps insecure places where the Word needs to be spoken and begs to be heard. When we would back away from conflict and be cowed by opposition, the courage of those who have gone before us in the faith pushes us out of our comfort zone and into the blood and guts of the human experience. There, we will find that we are not alone, for God is there and the Spirit of Jesus will be with us always.

Rev 21:1-5

Through the Easter season, the visions of John the Seer have offered the praying assembly a glance into what awaits the faithful beyond the passage of death. Intended as much needed encouragement for his contemporaries who were suffering persecution (during reign of Domitian, 81-96C.E.), these visions promised victory and an end to struggle, tears, pain, mourning and death.

As Raymond E. Brown (Introduction to the New Testament, Doubleday, New York, NY: 1997) has pointed out, the dwelling of God with human beings is described lyrically, offering hope to all who live in a present vale of tears. Whereas the earthly Jerusalem had been destroyed by Titus and the armies of Rome in 70CE, the New Jerusalem envisioned by the Seer would be perfect and indestructible and would provide a home where all those who would persevere in the faith would find welcome.

Unlike Babylon, i.e., Rome, whose demise was assured by the Seer (Rev 18:2), the New Jerusalem represented here is eternal, illustrating yet again the ancient author’s point, viz., that God is more powerful than empire. For the Seer’s late first century CE contemporaries, the empire that was Rome threatened them and their way of life with oppression and even anihilation. According to the Seer, the vices associated with empire were cowardice, deceit, faithlessness, abomination, murder, whoring, sorcery, idol worship and the propagation of illusion.

Based on the Seer’s observations and insights, how might Christians of the twenty-first century identify empire and its vices? Wes Howard-Brook and Anthony Gwyther (Unveiling Empire, Reading Revelation Then and Now, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, NY: 1999) suggest that empire exists wherever sociopolitical power coalesces into an entity that stands against God and those who worship God. Empire and its vices are ever present and remain a gross counterfeit of what should be the ultimate reality, viz., the New Jerusalem. But who would choose a counterfeit over an ultimate reality? Daniel Berrigan (The Nightmare of God, Sunburst Press, Portland, OR: 1983) suggests that many of us do because “those who dwell in Babylon do not know they are there.” We have become accustomed to seeing empire as something if not quite perfect at least livable. This, insist Howard Brook and Gwyneth, is what gives John’s vision potency; John permits us to see beyond the veil and beyond present struggles. John’s visions enabled him to see the depths of the problem of empire and, just as important, the glorious alternative and solution. This alternative is based on reliance on God rather than transient empire, however invincible or pervasive. This alternative enables believers to hope and to believe and to invest themselves in God’s service in order to loosen the grip of empire and enable the oppressed to reach out for God whose presence may be shrouded by empire but will never elude the sincere seeker. This alternative and the hope it instills will also empower disciples to accept and respond to the mandate Jesus extends once again to his own in today’s gospel.

John 13:31-33, 34-35

Like all the teachings of Jesus, that which is preserved in today’s gospel is framed within a certain context, our appreciation of which makes the teaching more clear. Similarly, like all the challenges Jesus ever issued, the challenge preserved in today’s gospel is framed by the profoundly authentic love of Jesus for his own. Contextually, this pericope is part of the lengthy Last Supper discourse; Jesus had just washed the feet of his disciples, explaining by his words that he would not only cleanse their feet of the dust of the streets but that he would also wash them from sin and death by his imminent sacrifice. By his actions, Jesus showed the depth of his love and that love would be the motive for all that would ensue. Jesus’ action illustrates the total selflessness and careful attention to the other which, as Stanley Marrow (The Gospel of John, Paulist Press, New York, NY: 1995) has pointed out, would enable him as their teacher and Lord to assume the role of slave and servant. Anyone, says Marrow, who had been humble enough to accept this loving service from another can see it as an “example”, not of how to return love to the one who rendered it, but rather, of how to love one another: “you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (13:14). What Jesus commands, then, is not merely to reciprocate his love and service, but to replicate it in daily life. Therefore, when Jesus commands, “love one another”, as he does in today’s gospel, and when he qualifies that command with “as I have loved you”, and when he has illustrated that love with the act of footwashing, then he is calling forth in his own, that self emptying love that Paul celebrated in Philippians 2:6-11. This love holds nothing back and loves to the end as Jesus did.

This love is to identify believers to the world as Jesus’ own. Rather than be known to others and to the world by the dogmas to which they adhere, the moral teachings to which they aspire or the rituals they observe, it is their love for one another that will be the permanent sign of the disciples’ belonging to Christ. As Charles Cousar (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, KY: 1994) has noted, some interpreters are troubled that the command Jesus left is not a command to love the world or one’s enemies, but to love one another. Of course these concerns have been addressed by Jesus elsewhere in his teachings, but here, his concern is for the community itself. Jesus calls for love to be the distinguishing mark of the Church by which it may be identified and authenticated by outsiders.

That Jesus’ command lays a heavy challenge on the Church is clear; that the Church, both collectively and individually, does not reflect to the world the mutual love that Jesus intended, is also clear. Nevertheless, contemporary Christians ought not to be overwhelmed by the burden of Jesus’ command; rather, we should remember that we are, each of us and all of us together, loved with an incomparable and unconditional love. That love calls forth from us a love that, of ourselves, we would be incapable of giving. But with him, in him and through him, who has first loved us, we are empowered to love one another, as he has loved us.

May 6, 2007 Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

“Providence and History” Fr. James Smith

Before time began, God expressed the divine Self in the Word, the Son. Then God created a world outside that Self. Not any old world, but a world in the image of God’s Son. Creation was made through and in and with Christ. The cosmos was created with Christ in mind. Everything in history either points toward him or proceeds away from him.

Before the enfleshment of God, the fate of the world was unknown. It was undecided whether humankind would freely agree with God’s plot or freely attempt to re-write their own future. Human freedom is just that potent! But when Jesus, the most perfect human, freely assented to God’s wishes, then divine freedom and human freedom perfectly coincided. History became Providence. All would end well.

That still has to be worked out, of course. Both God and the devil are in the details. But the final outcome is in no doubt. God has committed the divine honor and integrity to the final salvation, the ultimate happiness of creation. And not just human creatures. Creation is a an indivisible unity. Everything belongs and everything fits; everything is connected with everything else. And everything has a unique purpose: everything comes from God and will somehow find its final perfection and fulfillment in that same God.

But not without mistakes and misdirection. All things human are apt to err. It did not go well even with Gods’ own Son. God on earth was no more successful than God in heaven at persuading people to behave in their own best interests. However, Jesus did not come to fix on earth what his Father fouled up from heaven. Jesus came to stake God’s claim in history, to establish God’s kingdom on earth, to introduce God’s Holy Sprit as a major Player in world events.

That Spirit works through the Mystical Body of Christ, through you and me. The Spirit inspires us to guide history toward God’s final scene. When the Divine Author is satisfied with his work, Christ will draw all things to himself. His Father will dim the lights, close the earthly curtain and transform the scene into the heavenly Jerusalem.