Friday, October 26, 2007

3
THE PROCLAMATION
OF THE KINGDOM



As one reads the Gospels of Matthew,
Mark, Luke and John,
one begins to hear about “The Kingdom.”

Those of us who don’t live in a country with kings and queens
still have an idea about what a kingdom is.

We get glimpses of kingdoms in the stories of our childhood –
as well the everyday language of image and metaphor.

And we pray “Thy Kingdom come” over and over again
when we say the Our Father.

Jesus had a dream on how life could be:
that dream is the Kingdom.

It’s the dream of his Father.

It’s the reason why God made us and gave us the gift of life on this planet.

That reasoning, that dream, that hope, that will of the Father and discovered by Jesus in prayer is the Kingdom: Thy Kingdom come!

Jesus proclaims the coming of the kingdom of God.

He calls all to conversion
He calls for forgiveness,
to open our hands,
to drop the rocks,
to share our cloaks and our bread with each other.

The Kingdom is the dream.

We need to listen to each other’s dreams.

We know from the Gospel of Luke that Jesus listened to the dreams of Isaiah.

He opened up the scroll of Isaiah when he went into the synagogue in Nazareth and found the passage where it said, “The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to bind up hearts that are broken; to proclaim liberty to captives, freedom to those in prison; to proclaim a year of favor from the Lord, a day of vengeance for our God.” (Cf. Isaiah 61:1-2; Luke 4: 18-19).

If we read the whole scroll of Isaiah we will be reading the life of Jesus. So much repeats itself. The word becomes flesh in Jesus. The best of the Old Testament is married to the New. New wine tickles the words on old leather skins with words of life still fermenting.

And Jesus called people to this kingdom – to lead this life.

And Jesus called disciples to live this life – and then proclaim it.

And the message is still being lived.
4
THE TRANSFIGURATION
ON THE MOUNTAIN


Sometimes we need to escape.

Ever feel that way.

Sometimes we need to get away from it all.

Sometimes we need to see life in a different perspective.

Sometimes we need to see others in a new light!

Sometimes Jesus felt crowded in from every side.

Sometimes Jesus needed to get away from it all.

Sometimes he’d hide in the dark of night.

Sometimes he’d find a deserted place.

He recommended going into one’s inner room and being with the Father in prayer.

Then there was the day he went to the mountains.

This was to be a special moment.

He invited three of his closest friends to be with him.

Matthew, Mark and Luke
all tell the story about
this invitation to Peter, James and John
to climb the mountain with him.

Jesus was transfigured before them.
They were transfixed in the Light of the World.

They were so overwhelmed that they wanted to stay there forever.

Honeymoons end! Celebrations cease! We have to go home – even though it’s a wonderful wedding.

It’s important to know we’ve touched the heights.

But life is also the depths – the valleys – the down below.

Without the heights, we can’t deal with the depths.

Concerts, plays, games, can be transfiguration moments.

Hopefully, church moments, Mass moments, prayer moments top them all.

Hopefully, some Sundays in church we see Christ, family, friends, strangers, life itself
in a new light.

Martin Luther King Jr. is known for
his powerful preaching and powerful images – which he culled from the mountains of “I’ve been to the mountain.”

He had a Transfiguration moment at his kitchen table and after that – not matter what happened in the valley – he could take it, because he was to the mountain.

Those who have mountains to look at
from their windows tell us they are a constant source of strength.

Church spires try to touch the skies and those who see them from a distance are inspired.

Most of life however takes place in the valley.

The great Christian mystery and message
is that God came down from the mountains of eternity, the mountains of night, from way beyond the furthest clouds and became a plain baby wrapped in swaddling clothes.

Jesus learned to walk and talk, 
laugh and reach out for beards and beads,
and began walking the valley.

Jesus made the words
of Psalm 23 become flesh
as he dwelt amongst us.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd,
who walks the valley floor with us.

Jesus is the Searching Shepherd,
who tries to find us – especially
when we try to climb the heights alone
and get caught in thickets.

Jesus the Smiling Shepherd
brings us back home to the sheepfold
after he finds us lost in the mountains.
5
THE INSTITUTION
OF THE EUCHARIST


Eucharist means “Thank You.”

The Mass is a Thanksgiving meal.

When we celebrate Thanksgiving we don't have to be told that this is a time to say, "Thank You God."
If you don't do anything else when you come to Mass, at least say, "Thank You God."
Sometimes thanksgiving erupts out of our heart:
when we are given a surprise gift,
when someone compliments us,
when someone notices all we are doing for them or others,
when we escape a near accident.

Hopefully, saying “Thank you”
is one of our everyday speeches.

Thank you!

And then there are the times
we find ourselves saying in prayer,
“Thank You, God. Thank You.”

We also say that we escape a near accident.

We say that when we see a brand new baby.

Some people say, “Thank You God”
at the beginning and end of each day.

On the night before Jesus died,
he had a last supper with his disciples.
He took bread, gave thanks,
and handed it to his disciples saying,
This is my body.
I am giving it to you.
Then he took a cup of wine
and also handed it to his disciples and said,
“This is my blood.
I’m pouring it out for you.
Do this in memory of me.”

The Mass is entering that sacred moment.
The Mass is entering this sacred memory.
The Mass ends with the follower of Jesus
being sent to go out and give his body and blood to others.
The Mass ends with the message,
as Mother Teresa of Calcutta put it,
“Let the people eat you up.”

And some of them will say,”Thank you.”

And some of them will say,
“Thank You, God,
for bringing this person into my life.”

God is keeping all of creation going.

God just didn’t create billions of years ago.
God is creating right now.

The carpenter made the chair 5 years ago.

God created this universe and whatever else is created 5 billion or whatever billion years ago – and is still creating it.

Sometimes on a starry, starry night people sense this looking out into the galaxies or seeing a rose in bloom or a bird in flight or a child on a parent’s shoulders.

Thank you!

But sometimes we miss God.

Sometimes we ignore the Creator

Sometimes we forget a carpenter designed this chair.

So God in time decided to be amongst us
in a different way of connecting.
God came as a baby.

Jesus, the Son of God,
walked amongst us as a Baby,
a Carpenter, a Healer, a Preacher,
a Crucified One.
And he also connects with us through Words, Bread, Wine, and Companions.

Jesus keeps coming to us in a meal.

Some miss the connection.
Some get it and say, “Thank You!”


THE
FIVE
SORROWFUL
MYSTERIES



“Come down off that cross
if you are God’s Son!”
Matthew 27:40
1
THE AGONY
IN THE GARDEN


Jesus came to the entrance of the garden,
hesitated and then walked in.

Right now,
Jesus had an overpowering need to pray.

He needed time,
time to be with his Father,
for strength, strength to do his will.

He walked deeper and deeper into the garden,
into the agony,
into the garden of Fear.

And there on the table of fear
was the chalice of pain,
the cup of death.

It was easy to drink the cup of wine at supper,
but now to drink this cup of sorrows,
this cup of suffering,
knowing the end was near,
this was the agony in the garden.

The wine tonight in the upper room tasted good.

It should have; it was with friends.

But tomorrow, the wine will turn to vinegar.

It will have the sour taste of betrayal.

Right now he needed friends, not enemies,
wine not vinegar.

He needed the presence of Peter, James and John
as he was about to climb the mountain of disfiguration.

They were exhilarated
when they climbed the mountain of transfiguration.

Could they not watch one hour with him?

He hoped Judas was far away.

Jesus fell down,
falling deeper into prayer,
deeper into the agony.

Fear filled his night.

Sounds of hammers, hatred, spit,
filled the cup in front of him.
“Father, if it is possible,
let this cup pass me by,
but not my will,
but your will be done.”

Jesus, you are facing,
you are making the major decision of your life.

Yes or no?

Acceptance or rejection?

The hard or easy side of life?

“Why do things have to be this way Father?”

A garden is for walking in the cool of the evening.
A garden is for delights,
to eat only the good fruit,
to avoid the tree of evil,
the bitter fruit of life.

These moments
were like the moments of temptation in the desert,
the wanting and the not wanting to do the Father’s will.

Suddenly,
while his friends slept
Jesus heard the footsteps of betrayal behind his back,
and quickly he grabbed the cup before him.

“Yes, Father, I have come to do your will.”
2
THE SCOURGING
AT THE PILLAR


Jesus is arrested, stripped and beaten.
Blood begins to flow down his back.
Prison brutality.

The Lamb stands there silently
before being led to the slaughterhouse.

Why this extra cruelty?

Why does the human heart have this extra cavity of evil,
this extra beat of brutality?

Salt in the wounds.
Kicking a person when they are down.
Stabbing the already dead (in the back).
Rubbing it in.

Not just betrayed by Judas,
but kissed by him,
and in the very act of betrayal.

Not just whipped by soldiers,
but mocked by them as they hit him.

Why are people like this? Why?

Jesus’ back slashed like a tire, cut,
and the soldiers continued
with their nervous laughter called evil.

Why do people seem to treat religious
and political prisoners worse?

Who are the people down through the years
who have had to face the same tortures
that Jesus had to face?

Did Jesus’ death make any difference?

Does each person give pain differently?

Does evil and cruelty spill over
onto how a person treats a wife,
or husband, or child,
or the people one bumps into in the market place,
or in traffic on the way home from hurting a someone?

Does each cruel lash of the whip
effect the one who does the whipping,
the one who does the laughing,
the one who gives the orders?

Lord, have mercy on us in our cruelty?
3
THE CROWNING
WITH THORNS

Next the soldiers decided
to become even nastier.

Was it because
they wanted to impress each other
with their “bravery”?

Was it because of their anger
of being stationed in Jerusalem,
far away from home?

Was it because
this was the way they wanted to treat all Jews?

To have fun at the expense of another.

To treat another person as a thing,
an abortion of one’s own feelings,
to cease to be human during moments of cruelty.

By now Jesus was dazed
by those bullets of cruelty shot into him.

To cause even further pain
because he was a Jew,
because he talked of a kingdom,
they said,
“Let’s make him the King of the Jews.”

They grabbed a scarlet cloak
and wrapped it around his scarlet body.

Did they do this
to shield their eyes
from the cuts on Jesus’ back,
the graffiti of hatred?

Then someone thought up the idea
of a crown of thorns.

Like a spoiled child,
this cruel one went up
and placed it gingerly on Jesus’ head.

“We mustn’t hurt the king,
mustn’t we,”
was his crack
as he stepped back laughing at his own joke.

“What about his scepter?”“Every king has a scepter?”

Someone then grabbed a reed
and stuck it in Jesus’ hand.

“Now there’s a king for you.”

One by one each soldier came up
laughing and genuflecting before Jesus,
“All hail king of the Jews.”

Suddenly the ugliness
of what they were doing hit them
and they had to hide.

Quickly, they began to look
for even crueler masks to wear.

They grabbed the mask of spit.

They began to hit his head violently with the reed.

Why? Is there a point in cruelty
when a person realizes
that the other person is a person?

Is there a point of torture
when the torturer realizes
he is actually torturing parts of himself –
the better parts?

Is there a point of no return?

Is there a moment
in the heat of anger or cruelty or war,
when a person realizes
he has let his nerves become barbed wire,
fencing in the God of love within him?

Did the crown of thorns,
the horror of that night pierce
or cut into any of those soldiers?

Can brutality lead to love?

Can the beast become a beauty?

Can a person change?

Is there redemption?

Is there resurrection for the dead?