Week 21 Tuesday (Year 2)

Readings: 2 Thessalonians 2:1-3a,14-17; Psalm 96; Matthew 23:23-26

We might think that apocalyptic language belongs to another place and time, that it is a way of speaking that is so foreign to us and requires so much interpretation that it is nearly impossible for us to find in it a message for ourselves that is not either far-fetched at best, crazy at worst. But the current political discourse in the United States of America is becoming ever more apocalyptic.

We are accustomed for some time now to the 'right wing' tribe using this language. There is a great battle under way, we are told, between the forces of good and the forces of evil. Obviously those who identify with this tribe regard themselves as belonging to the forces of good. Ranged against them are those who identify - or whom they identify - with the other tribe, 'the left', Democrats, liberals, lefties, and something called 'the deep state'.

Now it seems that this other tribe has joined them, at least in agreeing with this Manichean view of the world. 'The left' has begun to speak also about a great battle under way between the forces of good and the forces of evil. Except - presumably - that now it is they who belong to the forces of good and the right-wing tribe - or those whom they identify as belonging to it - represents the forces of evil.

Saint Paul, in the first reading of today's Mass, tells the Thessalonians not to be alarmed or shaken out of their minds by such apocalyptic language. 'The day of the Lord has come', 'the end is nigh', 'the great battle of Armageddon is underway' - this is always the burden of such language. Its plausibility in our present moment is strengthened by the plague that has paralysed the world. But, says Paul, you must rely instead on the traditions you have received through the preaching of the apostles. Look to Jesus to encourage your hearts and to strengthen them in every good deed and word.

In the gospel reading we find Jesus himself speaking about the same thing. Don't be deceived by the purveyors of myths promoted to support people's quest for power and don't be deceived by the razzmatazz and the gaudy presentation they make of themselves.  Jesus is speaking in the first place to the Pharisees, the religious party to which he was closest. Forget about presentation which is always more or less hypocritical and focus instead on the weightier things - judgement, mercy and fidelity. Good deeds and words originate inside human beings and do not come from outside. Strive to see clearly and to find teachers and leaders who see clearly regarding these matters of judgement, mercy and fidelity. Far too often our teachers and leaders are more or less blinded by their own interests, their own prejudices, their own desires - they are more or less blind guides.

John Hume, a political leader respected by all who know about him, died recently. He was someone who tried to be a teacher and guide who could see not just the prejudices nursed, the injustices  suffered, and the aspirations sought by his own tribe, but to see those things in the other tribe as well. He sought to see beyond such definitions, to a common humanity which everybody, in more or less distorted ways, was trying to serve. The most difficult change to bring about, John Hume said, is the change in human hearts.

As the pressure mounts for us to 'choose sides' in the great battle - which side of the tennis court are you on, left or right? - it is salutary to remember that both the left and the right have carried their fears and oppression of others to the point of establishing concentration camps. Whether you end up in one or the other does not seem to make much difference in the end, the way you will be treated by your fellow human beings will be much the same.

Obviously something else is needed, another vantage point from which to survey the battlefield. However seeking another vantage point seems to lead, sooner or later, to the hill of Calvary. It was from that our crucified Lord surveyed the human scene, taking on himself all its fears and cruelties, to break down the wall of hostility that divides humanity into tribes, to make both one by the shedding of his innocent blood (the only truly innocent blood?).

But he gives us today a first direction with which we can begin even today: 'cleanse first the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may be clean.' Is it too gentle for a world which is physically violent in many places, and already so violent in language in so many more?

Saint Bartholomew - 24 August

Readings: Revelation 21:9b-14; Psalm 145; John 1:45-51

We celebrate today the feast of the Apostle Bartholomew, identified with Nathanael in John's gospel. The two readings we've heard are both wonderful works of theological imagination or at least are readings that appeal to the imagination. The vision of the heavenly Jerusalem, the Bride of the Lamb coming down out of heaven, angels, gates, the names of the twelve tribes of Israel, foundation stones, the names of the twelve Apostles.

The gospel reading then refers to a strange story. We don't know what it was that Jesus and Nathanael were talking about when they referred to what happened under the fig tree. But then Jesus ends with this more wonderful thing, that they will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man. It evokes the story of Jacob's dream in the book of Genesis where he had a vision in his dream of the angels of God ascending and descending. He awoke to say this truly is the gate of heaven, the house of God.

It evokes also that wonderful prayer in Isaiah chapter 63 and 64, 'oh that you would rend the heavens and come down', a prayer which is answered at the baptism of Jesus when we're told in Matthew's gospel that the heavens opened.

People often long for an imagined enchantment which they think the world has lost. Perhaps we just grow up and lose the ability which we had as children to be amazed and filled with wonder at all that we are encountering. But it is often said now that the world is no longer an enchanted place; that it has been emptied of supernatural and preternatural beings; that it has been reduced to a machine at the disposal of human beings and so therefore of our manipulation and exploitation. It leads people to saying that perhaps there is life elsewhere in the universe, perhaps there is intelligent life elsewhere in the universe. People talk about angels frequently in the context of New Age spirituality and so on. Fantasy literature is very popular, so too science fiction, and perhaps other more sinister ways of trying to escape from a world that seems too ordinary too banal too one-dimensional through drugs and so on - all of this we can see as a nostalgia for a sense of the infinite beauty of God.

We believe that God is the creator of all things visible and invisible, in other words things that come within the range of our vision as well as things that he has created which are beyond the range of our vision. It means sthe angelic world and perhaps other worlds beyond our imagination are needed to reflect adequately the infinite beauty of God. The angels remind us of this, that God is not simply our size and our shape, not simply 'our' God limited to our perception and understanding and experience but infinitely powerful infinitely wise infinitely holy and creative and imaginative. It means there might yet be things to be revealed as there are many things to be learned about God.

This is the question which people I think are considering when they talk about intelligent life elsewhere or express nostalgia for the angels or give themselves over to fantasy or science fiction. All that we need to know about God's creation has been revealed to us, all that we need to know for our salvation for our coming into union with God through Christ and what we've learned about the angels helps us to know where we fit within this plan of God. Within this creation the angels set boundaries to our nature and to our situation.

They direct us. Raphael, for example, is an archangel who directs people along the right road. The archangel Gabriel gives guidance and teaching. The archangel Michael gives protection. It was a great tradition in mediaeval Christendom to place Michael at the boundaries of Christendom to set him as the protector of the limits and the boundaries. All those wonderful places like Skellig Michael in Ireland or Mont Saint-Michel. Michael was always the one who protected the boundaries of the Christian Commonwealth.

So the angels help us to know where we are they give us direction and guidance and protection they also help us to appreciate that we are not angels. This is a great danger especially in modern times that we think of ourselves as spiritual beings trapped or for the moment residing in bodies and this of course is a fundamental misunderstanding of what the human animal is, the living human animal. Thomas Aquinas talks about the living human animal as the image of God. The angels may be more perfect images of God in what is primarily involved in that -  rationality and intelligence and freedom - but he says that human beings are fuller images of God and they are fuller images of God because they are animals. Human beings have bodies and the presence of the soul throughout the body for example, and the way in which the soul and body cannot be separated, help us to understand something about the presence of God throughout creation. The fact that human beings reproduce their kind teaches us something and images something about God's generativity God's fertility and creativeness which the angels are not able to image or represent within creation.

So the angels are helpful to us in that they keep us in our place they set the boundaries they help us to understand something about our own nature and not to fall into that very common but deeply mistaken belief that we are somehow ourselves angels trapped in bodies. Christ of course is always at the centre of our experience of God and our understanding of redemption and salvation. Christ Jesus of Nazareth our brother who is our teacher the Son of God the King of Israel one like the Son of Man the Lamb. The angels ascend and descend on him.

Everything in these texts is towards Christ, places Christ at the centre. He is the Lamb and this city is his bride. He is the one on whom the angels of God are ascending and descending. So the angels are preachers as Saint Augustine puts it, they are witnesses pointing us towards God teaching us something about God leading us towards God protecting us on our way to Go. Now it is Christ who is at the centre of this experience, this root, this road, this way to God for us who are the firstborn of creation, the firstborn from the dead.

You can listen here to a homily for the feast of St Bartholomew

Week 21 Sunday (Year A)

Readings: Isaiah 22:19-23; Psalm 137 (138); Romans 11:33-36; Matthew 16:13-20

In the Latin church the predominant interpretation of this gospel reading has been juridical and legal. In St Peter's Basilica you will find it high up around the cupola, the key text (pardon the pun) for the power of the keys given to Peter and in support of the Church's understanding of the role of Peter's successor in the government of the Church. There is good reason for this traditional interpretation as we see also from the first reading. A certain Eliakim is appointed majordomo of the royal palace and the tool of his office is the key he is given. It is a familiar reality: the one who has the key to open doors has authority and power, or at least has access and influence with those in authority and in power. The unlikely rock on which Christ builds his Church, Simon Peter, is given the keys of the kingdom of heaven. He has no authority or power apart from Christ but he is given access and influence, as well as delegated powers to bind and loose not just on earth but in heaven as well. However we interpret the text it is an extraordinary declaration.

The conversation between Jesus and Peter has other aspects to it. They are becoming friends and the key to the heart of one's friend is love. It is a personal encounter between them, not just a doctrinal interrogation or a juridical delegation. As they spend more and more time together Jesus and Peter are coming to know each other more and more. Jesus already knows all that is in Peter, the strengths and limitations of his personality and character, and Peter is coming to know more and more about Jesus. The question is not 'what do you say I am' but 'who do you say I am'. It is a matter of personal knowledge, and therefore involves the kind of faith and love that are always part of the personal knowledge between friends.

'You are like this', 'you are like that': it is familiar language between friends and lovers, parents and children. It is part of the gift of friendship that we can allow our hearts to be opened by the key of love, by the trust our friend shows in us, and we come to know ourselves better in the light of his or her love. Likewise for him or her. We are encouraged in our gifts and received kindly in our weaknesses. 'You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God', Peter says. His knowledge and understanding of Jesus have grown and deepened to this point. What Jesus was to be in the future - well that remains hidden from Peter for the moment as we will see when we read on in Matthew 16, for within a few verses Jesus is calling him 'Satan' as Peter once again gets the wrong end of the stick. But Jesus does know what Peter can be in the future. 'You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church'. Sometimes this is what happens in ordinary human friendships also: we see our friend's heart, her gifts and limitations, but also possibilities that perhaps she does not see. Imagine a parent encouraging a son or daughter, seeing what they might yet be, when the son or daughter is impeded by fear or lack of confidence or some rejection by others.

The key of love unlocks the heart of persons and allows the one who loves them to see who they are and what they might yet be. When it is Jesus we are talking about - the Christ, the Son of the Living God - then obviously he sees more deeply than anyone else what is in human hearts. Because of who he is he can also create and transform, placing in us gifts and strengths that we did not suspect before. We can imagine him speaking also to us, then, and saying 'You are John and in the future ....', 'You are Mary and in the future ...' - what might he have in mind for us for the future? We must remain open for that, ask him to make it known to us as he made it known to Peter. We may not fully grasp it at first as Peter does not fully grasp it but it keeps us in relationship with Jesus and it sets us on our way.

Jesus refers to us already in today's gospel for he speaks of Peter and his faith, his friendship with Jesus, as the rock 'on which I will build my church'. We can at least take strength from that since, poor as we are, we are already His church, built on the foundation of Peter's relationship with him and called (as the first letter of Peter puts it) to be 'living stones making a spiritual house' (1 Peter 2:5).

In thanking God for His many gifts, in particular for the gift of His Son, we pray that we will have the courage to allow Him to open our hearts with the key of His love (as He has already opened His heart to us with the key of His love), to speak to us there, to tell us who it is he knows us to be and especially to hear from Him what it is He knows we might yet be. All for God's glory, for the service of the Church, and for our salvation.

Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary - 22 August

Readings: Isaiah 9.1-6; Ps 112(113); Luke 1.26-38

With the readings chosen for today's memory we seem to back (or already arrived?!) at Christmas. the opening line of the first reading - 'the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light' - is practically the official opening of the celebration of Christmas for it also opens the same first reading at the Midnight Mass of Christmas. The gospel reading is Luke's account of the annunciation, a reading we hear a few times each year but one which is also very much a reading of the Christmas season.

Today the focus is on the royal status of the central figures in these readings. Jesus, the Lord Incarnate, is a king of the House of David but one whose kingdom will never end. The child celebrated in the first reading is the good king Hezekiah, the child born of the young woman and promised to King Ahaz in Isaiah 7. His birth meant a time of blessing for God's people and a reassurance that the covenant made with David was continuing.

The mother of the king is an important figure in the Biblical histories of the royal family in Israel. She is a queen but also the most important woman in the Davidic court. Mary now takes up this position as the woman closest to the king. And just as Jesus is a king of a very different kind - ruler of a kingdom of justice, love and peace - Mary is a queen of a very different kind, a queen after her son's heart.

The queen mother remained always with the king, the first to be named after him whenever the members of his court are listed. Last weekend we celebrated Mary's assumption into heaven, a new fulfilment of that relationship. Now she is the first person mentioned after the king when the members of the heavenly court are listed.

Today we celebrate this fact, that she is queen of heaven and earth, the queen in the court of the Eternal King. Just as she stayed with him throughout his public ministry, through his passion and in the moment of his death, so she stays with him now, participating fully already in the glory of the resurrection.

A new kind of king, then, a new kind of queen, and so a new kind of people in that kingdom where everyone is 'a first born son and a citizen of heaven' (Hebrews 12.23). The royal status of Jesus and Mary is shared with all who are brought within the embrace of his grace. We belong to a royal priesthood, privileged to offer the perfect sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.

The dignity human beings have by nature is strengthened and transformed by the dignity they have as sons and daughters of the Heavenly Father. Mary is the first such child and so is for us an exemplar, showing what we are called to be, and an ever present help for us in striving to live up to our new dignity. We rightly call her Queen and Mother, Mother of God and Mother of the Church, Queen of Heaven and earth, Queen of All Saints and Queen of Peace.

Week 20 Friday (Year 2)

Readings: Ezekiel 37.1-14 ; Psalm 107; Matthew 22.34-40

Just when we thought Ezekiel might have exhausted his supply of surreal and unusual metaphors and visions, he comes along with one of his best known ones. He is led into a place filled with dry bones. Can they live, he is asked by the Lord. You are the one who knows, is his wise answer. Prophesy to them, the Lord says, and tell them to hear the word of the Lord. So Ezekiel does so. (Remember he has done stranger things already than talk to bones!)

So imagine the noise as the bones begin to move, are given flesh and sinews and skin, come together to form people once again. But are they alive? Only when the Spirit comes upon them, the breath of life, God's creating power, which causes them to stand up, fully restored.

It is a wonderful illustration of a message Ezekiel has already passed on to the people: 'I mean to raise you from your graves, my people, and restore you to the land, cause you to live according to my statutes, and truly to know the Lord'. 

That knowledge means loving God with all of ourselves and our neighbour as ourselves. This is the great commandment in which Jesus summarises the statutes and precepts, the commandments and prescriptions of the Law (and the Prophets). To observe that commandment is to be truly alive, alive to the fullest potential of the human being.

But the capacity to observe it is a gift of God's grace, the gift or virtue of charity, which means loving God and our neighbour with the selfsame love with which God loves. For it is the Spirit of God, poured into our hearts, who makes such love possible.

So loving, knowing, living is what is promised in these readings; loving truly, knowing deeply, living fully. The dry bones of our lives are transformed by the gift of the Spirit as our hearts are opened to love, our minds are enlightened to know, and our souls are strengthened to live. Then we will know that the Lord is our God, we will love him with all our hearts, we will live the eternal life Jesus has won for us. He is the Lord. He has promised to do this for us. And he will do it for us.

Week 20 Thursday (Year 2)

Readings: Ezekiel 36.23-28; Psalm 51; Matthew 22.1-14

It seems at first that there is quite a contrast of mood in how God is presented in the readings today. The first reading is a beautiful passage from the prophet Ezekiel, a passage so valued in the Church that it is one of the readings chosen for the Easter Vigil. "I will take out of your bodies your hearts of stone and give you hearts of flesh instead". That stone, the hardened heart, can be as difficult to move as the stone that sealed the tomb of Jesus.

It is a moment of repentance on the part of the Lord, undertaken in order to show his holiness to the nations through what happens to Israel. Concern for his name among those nations moves God to restore his people, to give them new hearts and spirits, and to make them walk in his ways. Only then can it be said once again that he is their God and they are truly his people.

The parable of the wedding feast represents God in a very different mood. It speaks of another moment in his fraught relationship with humanity. We have heard enough about it from Ezekiel also in recent weeks. The king's generosity meets indifference and disdain as people refuse his invitation and even mistreat the messengers he sends to them. Finally he takes revenge on them, destroys them and their cities, and sends his messengers to call anybody and everybody to the feast.

It is easy to contextualise this within Jesus' conflict with the religious authorities. They are the ones who have shown disdain and indifference towards God's generosity. So far so Ezekiel-like. But there is a twist in the tail. The man who shows up without a wedding garment at a wedding to which he was not expecting to be invited, is thrown out, which seems very unfair. We are accustomed to that response in ourselves to things Jesus says and does: it seems unfair. What kind of justice is at play? 

The teaching of Jesus is not candy-floss. It makes real and serious demands. To accept the invitation, to respond to the call, requires a certain way of living on the part of those who are invited and called. It is a warning against presumption. If the Pharisees and other religious leaders presumed on their own righteousness, and are criticised for it, those who hear the call of Jesus cannot in their turn begin to presume on the gifts they have received.

It is a question once again of having a new heart and a new spirit, of living by the statutes and decrees of the Lord. It confronts us once again with the mystery of grace. We need God's gift if we are to live in the way that is right for us. We need God to make us live by his statutes. But we cannot presume on his generosity and simply go on living as we have done up to now. We must put on the wedding garment and we need God's Spirit to enable us to do that. Only then will we truly be among God's people, and He be our God.

Week 20 Wednesday (Year 2)

Readings: Ezekiel 34:1-11; Ps 22; Matthew 20:1-16

‘It’s not fair, he’s got a bigger slice than I have.’‘It’s not fair, she’s got more!’ ‘It’s not fair, I wanted the blue one!’

Cries of childhood echo in my head. The parable of the workers in the vineyard (today's gospel reading) tells of a group of workers some of whom have worked all day, others for part of the day, and a few for just an hour. At the end of the day the owner pays each of them the same amount. The ones who worked all day feel, naturally, that ‘it’s not fair’. The owner of the vineyard was quite just in giving them what had been agreed at the beginning of the day. But still, there’s something about it ....

Most of us, I imagine, will feel that the ones who worked all day have a point. The ones who came later were actually paid more per hour of work. How galling for the first group to hear the owner pointing out that he was being perfectly fair, knowing that, strictly speaking, he was but at the same time feeling hard done by.

It is very difficult to combine the ideas of justice and mercy. As we understand and experience them they seem to be incompatible. How can you be completely just while showing mercy (because mercy sounds to us like ‘letting someone off’, ‘agreeing to overlook something’ or even ‘letting someone get away with something’). How can you show mercy and still be strictly just (because not to insist on one’s rights, or not to insist on what we are owed sounds like a decision to forego justice).

The same problem comes up in the story of the prodigal son where the older brother feels that the younger one is getting away with murder, having a great old time in another country, wasting his inheritance, and then coming home to be received like a long lost crown prince instead of the irresponsible wastrel that he was. Matthew’s parable of the workers in the vineyard deals with the same issues as Luke’s parable of the prodigal son.

What issues? Well, in the context in which Jesus first told these stories, the main issue was the reaction of the Pharisees and others to the fact that he was welcoming sinners and eating with them. The Pharisees are the ones who have laboured all day in the Lord’s vineyard, the sinners are the ones wandering in when the day is nearly over. Or the Jews are the ones who have laboured all day — God’s people from centuries back — while the pagans are the ones wandering in late in the day. This was the import of Jesus’ preaching, linked especially with his frequent assertion that he had come not for the healthy but for the sick.

So a first question is whether we think of ourselves as sick or healthy. In relation to God, do we regard ourselves as belonging with the righteous who have been working hard all these years or do we feel that we belong with sinners who are today given the re-assuring message that ‘it’s never too late’?

A second question is how we regard other people, especially those whom we might think of as having wandered away from God, and from the ways of goodness. What if they return, even at the very end? Is it a cause of rejoicing for us, a joy we share with them, or do we feel a bit peeved that they’ve got away with so much, and feel like crying out to God that ‘it’s not fair’?

Part of envy is the feeling of exclusion from what another person is enjoying. But the gifts of God are not like other kinds of gifts. As children we knew very well that the more the cake and chocolate was divided the less there was for each one. With God’s gifts — grace, compassion, love, mercy — the more they are divided the more they increase because each one who truly receives these gifts of God and appreciates their meaning becomes in their turn a source of grace, compassion, love, and mercy in the world.

We cannot get our minds and hearts around God’s ways so as to contain or comprehend them. ‘God’s ways are not our ways and God’s thoughts not our thoughts’, says Isaiah. Many scripture readings remind us that God is not like us. Our standards of fairness and reasonable dealing are turned on their heads the more we enter into the world of God, contemplate the mystery of his love, and try to live according to his spirit. ‘The last will be first, and the first, last.’ Only love can teach us the truth of this paradox.