Week 8 Tuesday (Year 1)

Readings: Sirach 35.1-12; Psalm 50; Mark 10.28-31

All through the Scriptures the people are reminded that their faith is not just about the practice of religion but is also about the living of life. There is to be coherence between what they profess with their lips and celebrate in their rituals on the one hand, and how just and kind they are to their fellow human beings on the other. Religious practices are not an end in themselves: they are always at the service of the people's relationship with God and with each other.

Notice how cleverly this point is made in the first reading today. You want to offer a sacrifice? Then keep the law. You want to make a peace offering? Observe the commandments. You want to offer fine flour? Do works of charity. You want to offer a sacrifice of praise? Give alms. You want to please the Lord? Refrain from evil. You want atonement? Then avoid injustice.

Sometimes people speak nowadays as if the 'social gospel' or 'social justice' or working for 'justice and peace' is some kind of liberalised or secularised reduction of the gospel, turning it into 'social work' (the latter to be uttered in a disparaging tone of voice).

But such views seem quite ignorant of what the Bible teaches. From the Jubilee legislation in the Book of Leviticus through to the great prophets and wisdom teachers of Israel, the tendency to separate religious practice in the temple and works of justice in the city is criticised and rejected. Again and again it is criticised, over and over again - which testifies to how powerful a tendency it is, how persistent it must have been among the people.

How persistent it must be among us also, this kind of hypocrisy. We will be called back to coherence again and again during Lent. What is the fast the Lord wants? Not the hypocritical fast of people whose treatment of others is deplorable but, in the first place (if you have to choose) works of justice, kindness, care and compassion. That is the fast the Lord wants, Isaiah will tell us. 

God is not to be bribed by the offerings of those who oppress and exploit others. There is no point in sacrificing the fruits of extortion: they won't carry. God is a God of justice who knows no favourites. We might think we are fooling others or ourselves if we are hypocritical in our practice of religion but of course God sees right through us. Jesus pushes it even further, making it even more radical: the sacrifice that saves the world is the offering of himself, his practice of religion and his living of life becoming simply identical.

Week 8 Monday (Year 1)

Readings: Sirach 17.20-24; Psalm 32; Mark 10.17-27

'Jesus looked steadily at him and loved him'. It is a beautiful moment, recorded in this way only by St Mark. Other translations have Jesus looking 'straight' at him, or 'closely' or 'carefully'. We might be tempted even to say Jesus 'admired' him considering that having looked at him, 'he loved him'.

It is the experience of grace, to be not just seen by looked at by the Lord. The great blessing of the Book of Numbers prays in this way for people: may the Lord turn his face towards you and be gracious to you. To find favour in the sight of God is another way of saying the same thing: may you be seen and looked at, may you be remembered and kept in mind, may you be regarded and admired and loved.

If we speak as honestly as we can with our Lord in prayer, and present ourselves as frankly and as simply as we can, then our prayer will be heard. It might simply be 'Lord be merciful to me a sinner'. But to come into the light of God's face just as we are is to be acknowledged and then admired by God. He will see the sincerity of our hearts. It is to be loved by God who rejoices to see his children flourishing.

The man went away sad, unable to reach the level of courage and sacrifice to which Jesus called him. This would not have affected Jesus's love for him, however. That is always unconditional (in fact the only truly unconditional love that there is) and so would have followed him even though he could not then follow Jesus.

Perhaps at another time, in other circumstances, he became able to love Jesus in return with the love he was receiving from him.

Week 8 Sunday (Year C)

Readings: Sirach 27.4-7; Psalm 92; 1 Corinthians 15.54-58; Luke 6.39-45

Speaking up, speaking out, speaking in public - they all make people more or less nervous, depending on the circumstances, the audience, what is being talked about, people's experience, etc. When we speak we inevitably expose ourselves, revealing what is on our minds and in our hearts. What will the reaction be? Will what I say be considered stupid? Has it been said already? Is it relevant to the discussion? Will it be heard and considered or simply ignored? Often enough the doubts raised by these questions are enough to keep us silent.

There is good advice in today's readings about this. The psalm tells us that it is good to give thanks to God, to praise him and to declare how just he is. This is a speaking that is always relevant, always to the point, always wise and necessary. So let's imagine that this 'speaking to God' is the deep down music beneath and behind all our speaking. Not that we articulate or express it in words in ordinary conversations. But this ongoing conversation - what we call prayer - is forming and educating our desires, purifying our minds and setting our hearts right so that when we do speak it will be a good speaking coming from a good place within us. It will come out of the fulness of a heart fixed on God and its concern will be to serve truth and goodness.

If we do that then, like the sower going out to sow his seed, we can share our thoughts and feelings generously and straightforwardly, not being held back by the fears that come on us, and leaving it to God's providence to determine what fruit our speaking might bear.

Be firm, steadfast and devoted, St Paul says in the second reading, even in the face of great anxiety. In fact the greatest anxiety, death: what are we to say to that? 'Thanks be to God who has given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ', Paul says. It is a declaration that is always 'good fruit', welcome in any and all circumstances, even in the face of death. Whatever we may be discussing - serious or banal, whatever and wherever and with whomever - if we remain steadfast and devoted to the background 'deep down' conversation of prayer, then whenever we speak with others it will be from a clear mind and a pure heart.

In that way our words will build up, they will dissolve obstacles, they will shed light on the way ahead, and they will bear other good fruit that contributes towards building up God's kingdom of justice and love.

Week 08 Wednesday (Year 2)

Readings: 1 Peter 1:18-25; Psalm 147; Mark 10:32-45

Someone once described the history of Christianity as a history of the many ways in which Christians have tried to run away from the Cross of Christ, to tone down its message, to draw its sting.

The earliest Christians searched the Old Testament for images and symbols, hints and clues, as to the identity of the Messiah for whom they waited, and the purpose of his mission. In the Book of Isaiah they found long, poignant and beautiful passages about a Suffering Servant. He was to be the servant of God who would carry the sins of all. His life and death would be a victory, not just for himself, but for the many who would become one with him. These passages are in the Book of Isaiah, chapters 42, 44, 49 and 52-53. John the Baptist, and Jesus himself, knew these passages which helped them to understand their mission.

The 'Lamb of God', the 'Son of Man', the 'Servant of the Lord', came on earth not to be served but to serve, and to suffer, to die and to give his life as a ransom for many. Some of the language in today's gospel reading will feel foreign to us, some of it strange, and as it has been interpreted in Christian history, perhaps even scandalous. To speak of drinking a cup is okay but to talk of a ransom is a bit odd. Ransom to whom? Why? What price? A phrase like 'the Lord has been pleased to crush him with suffering' (Isaiah 53:10) sounds positively obscene. What could such a sadistic God have to do with the heavenly Father, merciful and compassionate, in whom we believe?

For some reason we need the shock which the suffering servant gives us. We could easily, through familiarity, forget the horror of the crucifixion, the desolation of Gethsemane, the failure of Calvary, the night of 'my God, why have you forsaken me'. The 'suffering servant' is a constant reminder of what Good Friday involved: strange that it remains one of the days of the year that draws many people to the liturgy who would not otherwise go.

What does it mean to call Christ a suffering servant? What moves our heart and mind when the cross is placed before us in all its solitude and sadness? The cross speaks of human sinfulness. Compare this with the comical concern of James and John as to who would have the best seats in the kingdom - the 'price' of entry to the kingdom was the passion and death of Christ! God's anger is not a defence of his own wounded pride, but rather a sadness at the damage we do to ourselves and to one another. This is the seriousness of sin: lack of love, injustice, cruelty, selfishness.

But the cross speaks also of the great love of God, God's humility and vulnerability, the lengths to which God is prepared to go for those for whom God cares. The suffering of Christ is a cry for our love, a cry echoing down the ages in the hearts of all who seek to love. To call Jesus the 'suffering servant' is to recognise in him the one whom God sent to save his people. Jesus has saved us by his teaching and example. He has saved us by showing us the way of love. He has saved us by breaking through the knot of sin and death in which we were trapped. He has saved us by living in truth, without compromise, even when this meant his own death. He showed that, serious though sin is, love is more serious and more powerful. It is love which creates a place where all can live in integrity and justice, in joy and at peace - what we call the Kingdom of God.

Week 08 Tuesday (Year 2)

Readings: 1 Peter 1:10-16; Psalm 98; Mark 10:28-31

So what's the deal, Peter asks. His question reminds us of how difficult it is to change our minds, be converted, and open up to living according to grace. Peter's interest is the exchange rate, the currency, in which the relationship with Jesus is to be evaluated: 'what about us, we have left everything and followed you'. His question comes immediately after Jesus' comment about the impossibility of a rich person entering the kingdom and Peter, in spite of himself, shows that he is still 'rich', still keen to know 'the bottom line'.

Has he really left everything to follow Jesus if this question still troubles him? At first Jesus seems to respond in the terms set by Peter: those who have left everything will receive everything back, and receive it a hundredfold (an impressive rate of interest). So there's the deal: give it all up and you will get it all back, and get it back with its value enhanced. This invites us to think in terms of a spiritual economy. St John of the Cross, for example, develops an understanding of detachment from all things, embracing the nada, the nothing, of the cross, but then being given everything back: 'I have the mountains, the quiet wooded valleys, the perfect solitude'. Give it all up for Christ and you receive everything back with Christ.

Meister Eckhart talks in a similar way: the one who detaches himself from all things becomes all things so you own everything in a much more radical way if you decide not to own anything. You will love your family more if you become detached from them, Eckhart says in commenting on today's gospel reading (Book of Divine Comfort, Part II): they become a hundred times dearer to you than they are now. As well as that, everybody else becomes dearer to you than your family is by nature and so you find yourself with many fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters.

It might seem irreverent, presumptuous, to question the interpretations of such spiritual geniuses as John of the Cross and Eckhart. But the question remains as to whether there is something in the teaching of Jesus that resists being contained even by their spiritual logic.

One qualification Jesus adds is that this detachment is to be 'for my sake and for the sake of the gospel'. What needs to happen if we are to find ourselves capable of such motivation? Just because I think that is why I want to do it does not mean that it really is why I want to do it. When can a person honestly say 'this is the reason for my action, Jesus and the gospel'? If we still harbour Peter's question somewhere inside ourselves we are still not understanding the terms in which Jesus is speaking.

A second qualification Jesus adds is this: 'with persecutions'. This is part of the deal as well, then. If glory is on offer then it is not without suffering, a suffering that attends any birth. And if we are to be born into a new way of living how can we know what that will be before we are born into it? How 'do a deal' when we are still in the womb and do not know what life will be like outside the womb, what 'eternal life' might mean? The first reading today uses the term 'grace' and then explains it in terms of glory and hope, a glory that attends suffering and is accompanied by suffering, a hope that means looking beyond the desires of our ignorance, and how are we to do that?

The third and final qualification added by Jesus seems to subvert not just Peter's ordinary, understandable question but also the solutions of spiritually sophisticated teachers like John of the Cross and Eckhart. There are many who are first who will be last, and the last, first. This seems to blow all logic out of the water, destroy all attempts to develop an 'economy' of the relationship with Christ. The first will be last and the last first: does it not draw a line under all measuring and evaluating of how we are doing and catapult us into the puzzling world of grace and holiness, a world in which we are strangers (no matter how hard we try to reduce it to more manageable terms).

We are to be holy as God is holy, the first reading concludes. How is it possible to be in the presence of the holiness of God, to perceive it, to understand it, not to be completely confused and overwhelmed by it? We can only allow it to reveal itself to us, to reveal its ways to us, to give us the courage to follow and entrust ourselves to its laws and criteria. The first reading teaches us that the power or capacity to do this is 'the Spirit of Christ' or 'the Holy Spirit' working in us. It is what we are searching for, as angels and prophets have searched for it, but in finding it we lose ourselves and we come to live for others even to the point of forgetting ourselves. Is it wise to think in such terms? Is God's holiness foolish? Have we really given up anything to follow Christ?

Week 8 Saturday (Year 1)

Readings: Sirach 51:12cd-20; Psalm 19; Mark11:27-33 

So often Jesus answers a question with a question of his own. He is on the receiving end of many questions in the gospels, from scribes and Pharisees, from chief priests and elders, from teachers of the Law and from disciples. The fact that he so often replies with a question is not just a clever strategy on his part. It is because part of the meaning of a question is the interest the questioner has in the answer. Why does that person ask that question? What is it he or she is wanting in asking that question of Jesus? So Jesus’ replies, in the form of questions, are aimed at bringing to light also – and sometimes this needs to be done in the first place – the interest or motivation that explains the question.

Today’s first reading is one of the passages in which we read about the quest for wisdom, for truth. It tells of a person’s eager desire for knowledge, understanding and meaning, and how that desire has stayed with him all his life. In the course of his life he has learned not just about the object of his desire – he has gained knowledge, wisdom and truth – but he has learned also about himself and particularly about his own motivation in the search for wisdom.

‘My very core yearned to discover her’, says one translation. Another says ‘my soul was tormented in seeking her’. ‘I have directed my soul towards her’, he says, ‘and in purity have found her’. This is the point, to understand and to purify my motivations in my desire for knowledge and wisdom. Why do I pray? Why do I want to know? What do I plan to do with the knowledge I am seeking? Julian of Norwich speaks of ‘the purification of the motive in the ground of our beseeching’. Our beseeching is our quest, our prayer, our life’s search. The motivation of that quest needs to be known and purified.

The replies of Jesus, usually as in today’s gospel in the form of a question back, are meant to bring people into that further depth of seeking where they are obliged to think also about their reasons for asking the questions they ask. What is the interest of the chief priests, scribes and elders in the questions they put to him today? It is not that Jesus is resistant or closed to their questioning when he asks them a question in reply. It is because he knows that their interest, their motivation for asking, is not pure. They are out to trap him, to corner him and to use whatever he says against him.

He is Wisdom itself, God’s Word, knowing what is in human beings. His replies are always helpful, always supportive. If he seems to be clever and evasive in not answering some questions directly we can be sure that it is for the good of the questioner that he does this. There is also a moral and spiritual dimension to asking questions, to seeking truth and wisdom. The mind and heart must be properly disposed. A significant part of growing in wisdom in the course of a lifetime is accepting our motivation in seeking and asking – that it is not always pure or innocent, that it is sometimes self-interested and partial.

The questions of Jesus oblige us to think again about our own questions. They oblige us to enter into this broader and deeper context in which our questions emerge: what is it you want to know? And why do you want to know this? Only by continually searching the depths of our hearts with these questions can we hope to enter into the light of truth, the purity, in which Wisdom will be found.

Week 8 Thursday (Year 1)

Readings: Sirach 42:15-25; Psalm 33; Mark 10:46-52

'What do you want me to do for you?' Jesus puts exactly the same question to Bartimaeus in today's gospel as he put to James and John in yesterday's gospel. He often encourages us to pray to the Father in his name, asking simply and straightforwardly for what we want. So Bartimaeus asks in that way, and so too do James and John.

But the reaction to the requests in each case seems very different. Bartimaeus asks for the obvious thing, that he might see. We might even wonder why Jesus needed to ask the question: surely what the blind man will want is to see. But there is a deeper level to this, as there is in John 9 where we read about a man who was blind from birth. Because it is also about the kind of seeing we call 'faith' which enables a person to 'see' Jesus not just in his physical reality and presence but for who he is: the Lord, the Saviour, the Son of God, the One sent from the Father.

Bartimaeus is in touch with his own simple need. His desire, expressed simply and honestly, meets with a response from Jesus that is wider and deeper than his desire. At the end he not only receives his sight, he also 'followed Jesus on the way'. He had become a disciple.

James and John are already disciples but struggling to stay with Jesus on the way. They are further on in the journey than Bartimaeus, already to be counted among 'the holy ones' who recognise that Jesus is a prophet sent from God. But, as today's first reading says, 'even God's holy ones must fail in recounting the wonders of the Lord'. It seems that there are new moments of blindness to be experienced along the way, even by those who can see physically and who, up to those moments, had been able also to see spiritually.

'He plumbs the depths and penetrates the heart; their innermost being he understands'. In our innermost being we draw back, inevitably, from the destination to which Jesus is leading us. In our innermost being we recoil from the brightness and precision of the light which his truth shines into our hearts. We can say then that the two conversations are exactly the same. Jesus asks what he can do for people. They tell him honestly. He responds from the full truth of their situation and this means one thing for Bartimaeus setting out on the journey of following Jesus and another thing for James and John who are already well advanced on that journey.

To ask to see is always good. To ask to sit alongside Jesus in his kingdom is also always good. The difficulty is that we have some idea what the first request means whereas we do not understand what the second one means. There is a cup to be drunk, a baptism in which to be immersed, a passion to be undergone.

Let us begin with the truth we do know, no matter how humble, and with the blindess of which we are aware, no matter how physical. We will be led, inevitably, into a deeper blindness, a more brilliant light. The way to stay on course is always to answer the question honestly. 'What do you want me to do for you?' Well, what is it? For today? Say it out simply and straightforwardly, and let's see where we are on the journey.