Sometimes, the weekend readings do not stir thoughts that are easy to apply to our experience.  By contrast, this weekend’s offering is rich with material—enhanced by two feast days that fell during the week.  This is the time of year when we are called to reflect on the life of Theresa of Liseux (the “little flower”) and Francis of Assisi (founder of the Franciscan Order).

By contrast, today’s rich reading is from Genesis—and reports one of the TWO creation stories that appear in that first book of the Bible.  This is not the story of Adam and Eve, but of God making a man whose rib God crafted into that of a woman. In the Adam and Eve’s story, humans are created after the animals and in both male and female sexes. Here, however, man (male) is created first.  Animals were then created to serve him (naming them indicates control over them).

We could spend much time addressing the content of these creation stories, but for our limited time today, it’s worth noting some key points that are important for each of us to internalize and take to heart each day of our lives.  Namely, there is no hierarchy within the human race.  That is, humankind did not come into existence UNTIL both man and woman were created.  The two are of one flesh.  As one verse puts it, “Male and female he created them.”  One is not beholden to or superior to the other.

Similarly, throughout human history, groups and individuals have asserted that THEIR people are #1—over and above or smarter than all others.  In America, we’ve had a history of seeing Indians as non-human and Blacks as inferior to “White” people.  When the Ku Klux Klan emerged, they rose to power by hating Jews, Blacks, and Catholics.  Today, the KKK has been replaced by a variety of “White supremacist” groups such as the Aryan Nation, Nazis, and a variety of militia groups.  Surprisingly, some Catholics identify with these groups and are unaware that they, Catholics, were once the object of racial/ethnic prejudice and hanged. 

It is hard to understand how Christians of any denomination can attend church and carry this sort of prejudice.  Their own scripture, as in Genesis today, teaches them that humankind was created by God—and that God made one “race”—the human race.  There was no mention of skin shade.  God created man and woman—“and saw that they were good.”  Importantly, Genesis informs us that creation is incomplete without YOU—in your special identity as this male or this female in this place within the garden of Eden that is our home.

Genesis tells its readers that we are to care for this marvelous gift of planet Earth, but you may recall the “Crying Indian” commercial that depicted an Indian looking at polluted lands and rivers.  It reflected an Indian criticism of Genesis—Indians saying that Christianity has been killing “Mother Earth” for centuries.  Their perspective is not based on an accurate reading of Genesis, but Christian actions have spoken louder than words.  Sadly, the example of St. Francis of Assisi has not been able to offset human spoilage of the environment.

Taking this saint’s name, Pope Francis issued the encyclical “LAUDATO SI’, mi’ Signore” – “Praise be to you, my Lord”.  (a line from the prayer of St. Francis). He challenged Catholics (and people everywhere) to realize that we are on a course to ecological calamity. With the past couple of years being the hottest globally in recorded history, and with climate disasters occurring with greater frequency than ever, 72% of Americans agree with scientists that global warming is a reality.  Fossil fuels have long been a major contributor to “eco-cide” but U.S. politicians from both parties have been financially supported by corporations that place profit over people (and scripture).

NASA was aligned with the encyclical.  It reported that the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, composed of scientific experts from countries all over the world, concluded that “it is unequivocal that climate change is the result of human activities and that human influence is the principal driver of many changes observed across the atmosphere, ocean, cryosphere and biosphere.  Since systematic scientific assessments began in the 1970s, the influence of human activity on the warming of the climate system has evolved from theory to established fact.” However, this reality has been reduced to a popular political position that the issue doesn’t exist.

Just this week, the governor of Florida banned the term “climate change” from State literature and allied himself with other bribed politicians to assert that the issue is something “made up” by their political opponents.  All sorts of industries that make trillions of dollars by avoiding regulation were no doubt pleased with the support of politicians allied with this governor.  We who claim to have a Gospel identity need take to heart the Pope’s counsel.  In listening to speakers on the topic of our environment, we need to realize that Francis speaks on behalf of a Bible that told us to take care of our “common home” and not listen to those who speak on behalf of their wallet.

It is not surprising that this topic has people take sides in the matter (trusting politicians over scientists who actually know what they’re talking about).  It seems we live in a time when people will even question if the earth is flat.  Well, this week’s readings throw us another topic that could itself be the focus of a workshop: marriage and divorce.

Picture yourself at age 21 coming home and announcing at the family dinner table that you’ve found the person who you love and who you’re going to marry.  With a proud smile on your face and hoping to be congratulated by family members, you instead are told by one of your parents: “Love shmuv!  You’re going to marry who we’ve chosen for you.  Mr. and Mrs. X are respected people whose son/daughter will be a good provider for you and the children you’ll have.  You and our family will be much respected by this union.”  In the words of a woman who had this experience, “Over time, you grow to love your husband.”  Love generally meaning that he was a decent provider for the family.

Unlike American culture, peoples globally—since earliest times—regarded marriage as an institution that was arranged by parents (and not their child).  It was thought that marriage was too important a decision for a young person to make.  We might fantasize “falling in love,” but in their study of cultures around the world, anthropologists pretty much define marriage as “an economic transaction uniting two groups.”  No warm embraces with that cold statement!  From time to time, you’ll read the story of a girl’s family killing her for not abiding by the marriage custom of her people—marriage being serious “business”—literally.

In the modern era, 41% of first marriages, 60% of second marriages, and 73% of third marriages end in divorce.  Such is the state of marriage in 21st-century America.  It has not always been this way. Customs change, e.g., 19^th-century America saw MANY first-cousin marriages. 

In the time of Jesus, Israelite culture held that just as children cannot choose their parents, so too children could not choose their spouse. God chose one’s parents, and through one’s parents God chose one’s marriage partner.  And so it was that Jesus stated a cultural truism, i.e., “What God joined let no one separate.”  If marriages dissolved, such things as shame, feuding, and bloodshed could result.  Thus, the “Marriage bond” needed preservation at all cost.  It was NOT a decision made by a couple kissing affectionately.  It was, rather, a “social contract” that involved a community that would be bound together in all sorts of activities because of the “marital bond.”  Modern America pretty much lets a couple decide their fate going into or out of marriage.  Cultures everywhere saw broader ramifications to a union, e.g., the couple living with his family for a period, or hers, or their own—with obligations of various kinds. America largely lets young people do what they wish.

As is obvious in the Gospels, Jesus was one who brought people together and healed people whose minds, hearts, and bodies were broken in one way or another.  His role was to encourage the union of people and couples.  His efforts were not aimed at dissolving the marriage pact but to help it be a stabilizing force within communities.  That same strategy is what the Church tries to implement 2000 years later.  However, early in Church history, the Christian community had to address problems that arose with marriage—problems that seemed to have no positive resolution.  Hence was born the Pauline and Petrine privilege that granted a couple’s release from the marriage contract under certain circumstances.  In our time, you might know someone who was granted an “annulment” which allowed them to marry.  Some Protestant groups reject these Catholic teachings and do not allow divorce based on today’s scripture.  As stated, the topic is a sensitive one still—and not limited to the fallout noted above within Israelite culture of the first century.  This is why the matter requires sensitivity on the part of a marriage tribunal, parishioners, and anyone dealing with people caught up in these circumstances.

Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Most High, all-powerful, all-good Lord, All praise is Yours, all glory, all honour and all blessings.  Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures, especially Brother Sun,

Who is the day through whom You give us light?  And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendor, Of You Most High, he bears the likeness.  Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,

In the heavens you have made them bright, precious and fair.  Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods, by which You cherish all that You have made.  Praised be You my Lord through Sister Water–So useful, humble, precious and pure.

Praised be You my Lord through Brother Fire, through whom You light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.  Praised be You my Lord through our Sister, Mother Earth,  who sustains and governs us, producing varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.  Praise be You my Lord through those who grant pardon for love of You and bear sickness and trial.

Blessed are those who endure in peace, By You Most High, they will be crowned.  Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Death, from whom no-one living can escape. Blessed are they She finds doing Your Will.

St. Theresa of Liseux

“When I have been lonely, depressed or ill, I’d often repeat to myself a line of poetry which brought peace and strength back into my soul. It says: “Time is just a ship that bears us. It is not our home.”  “When we cannot rise above our difficulties, we should pass through them or beneath them with trust in God.”

“Our Lord does not come from Heaven every day to stay in a golden ciborium.  He comes to find another Heaven, the Heaven of our mind and heart–is where he most loves to stay.”

“When it comes to his closest friends, the Lord tests them by keeping them waiting for a miracle. He allows Lazarus to die when Martha and Mary have sent warning that he is sick.  At Cana of Galilee when his mother tells him the host has run out of wine, he tells her that his time has not come yet.  Why shouldn’t our Lord treat me the same way, by keeping me waiting first, I savor God all the more because in his own time he satisfies the deepest wishes of my heart?”

“In God’s garden, there are big flowers and little flowers.  Not all of us can be big lilies and roses.  Some of us have to be content to be little daisies —and God loves those little daisies just as much as he does those big lilies and big roses.”

This week’s Gospel reading reminds us of how some people take scripture literally (sometimes it SHOULD be and sometimes NOT).  Today’s passage illustrated the latter.  For example, today Jesus says that if your hand or eye or foot are a source of sin for you—CUT THEM OFF.  Boy, if understood this way, he was a stern taskmaster.  He’d fit in with those countries today that do, in fact, punish lawbreakers in this fashion (countries like Saudi Arabia, Iran, and several others. 

Contrary to this MODERN practice (that goes back millennia), Jesus was NOT making this point.  Otherwise, we’d have millions of disabled people coping with these amputations.  Instead of thinking that this is the point of what Jesus said, forget it.  Jesus is using hyperbole—exaggerating an example just to make his point.  That is, he’s saying: “If you can identify the source of your bad behavior—STOP IT.  Make no excuses and never say: “The devil made me do it.”).

This topic reminded me of an American Indian comedy video that had a young Indian guy sitting across from a medicine man at a table.  The young man hands a gift to the medicine man [a traditional custom when seeking wise counsel from a traditionalist elder].  The young man then respectfully says: “I’ve been going to a lot of white doctors and they can’t tell me what’s going on with me.  I ain’t got no singing voice and I’m always tired.”  The medicine man then asks: “Well, do you party all the time?” And the young man smilingly responded: “Hell yes.”  With that, the medicine man slaps the young man across the face and says; “Knock it off!”

Jesus and the medicine man are both basically saying that one should stop doing what they know to be destructive behavior.

Apart from this lesson in scripture this week, I was reminded of a term I heard bandied about by commentators on the upcoming elections.  They were referring to people who cast their vote based on very little knowledge of the persons or issues.  Or, they are victims of intentionally misleading or deceptive data called “disinformation” (as when the Russians or other countries fill our social media for unsuspecting Americans who think what they see is accurate or true—when it’s not).  Whether one knows little about candidates or issues their mindset is: “I’ve always voted for whoever is a Green Party candidate” (or one of the other parties).  Or these people might simply THINK they know issues (but when interviewed reveal a lack of knowledge—as has been found with people who limit themselves to FOX broadcasts (its viewers being the LEAST informed).  People within these populations are referred to as “low information” voters (the technical term I recently learned). 

Just this week, when the vice-presidential candidates debated, a poll showed that 25% of the population had no idea who the VP candidates were or what they stood for.  If you fall within this group and wish to acquire a sense of candidates, I’d be happy to provide you with information on them.  For example, VP candidate Vance thinks the U.S. should “delete” its form of government and replace it with a dictatorship.  This is simply to point out that you should know one’s vision of America if it is contrary to yours.

Learning this term dovetailed with what Pope Francis recently said.  He told people that they had a responsibility to educate themselves on all the candidates and issues and NOT limit themselves to voting for one issue only.  The Pope was calling us to be a “high information” voter. 

This topic brought to my mind that I’m “low information” in many areas of life.  For example, I’ve known about the existence of soybeans for years, but it wasn’t until this week that I learned what they looked like.  Parishioner Irene Peck brought some to the Tuesday 5 p.m. Mass for me to see.  What also came to mind is that a priest’s role within a parish is to help the people become “high information” members of the faith community—and be people familiar with biblical literature, Christian history, ethics, traditions, spirituality, and all aspects of life as seen through the eyes of Jesus.  That’s why a “homily” is supposed to teach people about scripture passages at Mass, and how those passages might apply to our everyday living.

This week we see the names of Moses and Joshua and their dealing with people who weren’t “official” prophets chosen by the community.  We might be tempted to yawningly listen to this story from the Book of Numbers—andhave no clue as to its relevance for us.  However, to be high-information Catholics, we need to know how these elements of the story DO relate to us.

In short, our Christian religion is based on the teachings and life of Jesus.  He is called the “second Moses” because he led us out of slavery to behaviors that enslave us.  Moses led his people to the Promised Land, and so does Jesus lead us in that direction.  However, it was Joshua who accompanied the people across the river into the new territory (since Moses died just before getting there).  And we need to keep in mind that Joshua and “Yeshua” (Hebrew) are the same name as “Jesus.” 

So today, we are thus reading about our grandparents in the faith who were symbols or forecasts of what was later to come full fleshed out in the Gospels (a technical name for people who presage/illustrate a New Testament figure is “type” (as in “Moses is a ‘type’ for Jesus”).  These leaders in the “Old Testament” became fleshed out in the totality of goodness when Jesus arrived on the scene in Bethlehem.  Their lives and experiences pointed the way to Him.

Such as today’s reading had Moses comment: “Would that all the people of the LORD were prophets!”  This, too, is a major statement to you and me.  Why?  Because when we were baptized, we were baptized to become a “prophet.”  Not in the sense of predicting the future (the meaning we generally have in mind), but as one who speaks or shows others how God is present with us HERE AND NOW.

In this role, we’re likely to have a family member or friend or acquaintance say to our “prophetic voice” a response like: “Mind your own business,” or some such dismissive reply to what we say.  We needn’t get on a soapbox, or “in someone’s face” when we live our prophet role.  As with the prophets of the Old Testament, so with us prophets of the New Testament.  You and I might be criticized or ignored or be martyred—but such is the role of prophets described in scripture.  Our challenge is to somehow make our Gospel point in a way that people can “hear.” 

Maybe when speaking with someone who we think needs our counsel, we can use a “hook” like the one used by Dr. Phil on TV.  When his guest reveals all the problems they’ve had with drugs or behaviors that brought lots of anguish, Dr. Phil asks them: “How’s that working for you?”  The reason this question is a therapeutically good question to ask—is that Dr. Phil is not himself outright telling the person that they’re really “messed up.”  He’s led the person to be able to objectively look at their behavior and respond something to the effect of “It hasn’t been working out for me.”  And so it is with our being a prophet.  We need to learn HOW we might deliver the counsel we prophets seek to provide. 

When the apostles told Jesus about other people doing good—but not doing it in the name of Jesus—they remind us of the first reading from Numbers.  Jesus is acknowledging good behavior when it is performed when he says: “For whoever is not against us is for us.”  Such people can be considered what’s been termed an “anonymous Christian.”  They’re doing Christian behavior without consciously calling it Christian.

This is the season when students are getting accustomed to a new school year.  Each Fall, I think of my many years in the classroom at Jesuit universities and am reminded of phrases associated with the 27 schools founded by my Order.  These schools tell students that Jesuit education doesn’t just teach one how to make a living.  It also teaches them how to live.  A spin-off of this thinking is that we try to produce “men and women for others” in the tradition of Jesus. 

Mass has these same goals.  In this sacred context of the sacrament, we learn how to live and become people “for others.”  This week’s Gospel reinforces these thoughts—but to understand how it echoes Jesuit orientation, we need to get a deeper sense of the first-century culture within which Jesus lived.

A surface reading of the passage leads us to think that Jesus instructed his apostles to be hospitable toward children.  The apostles had been arguing about who was the greatest among them, and Jesus placed a child in their midst to answer their questions.  “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.”  In doing this, they will also receive the One who sent Jesus.

What modern readers need to know is that when Jesus hugged the child and greeted it warmly, Mark was NOT portraying Jesus as someone who was simply kind to children.  Instead, Jesus was calling their attention to one who symbolized the “lowest level” of society.  It was children who held that unpleasant distinction.  Mr. Trump’s former press secretary said that his “core” followers did not know that in private he spoke of them disparagingly as “basement dwellers” for whom he had no interest other than getting their votes.  Jesus was pointing to the “cellar dwellers” of society when he pointed to a child.  Such persons were the ones who should receive the attention of his apostles.  Children were the “basement dwellers” of his time.  They held the status of little more than of a slave.

30% died at birth while 60% died by age 16.  Moreover, children had no rights, and were the last to be fed.  Proverbs and Sirach said that fathers should physically punish their sons lest they suffer abuse or neglect in later life (Prov 13:24; 19:18; 22:15; 23:13-14; 29:15, 17, 19; Sir 30:1-13).  As biblical exegete John Pilch noted: “This does not mean that children were not loved or appreciated. Mediterranean discipline fuses love with violence as parents explain: “We only do this because we love them.” Even God disciplines “him whom he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives” (Prov 3:11-12).  1200 years later, the great St.Thomas Aquinas even described the status of children in terms that seem abhorrent to us.  He said that when rescuing people from a fire, a man should first save his father, mother, wife, and children (in that order).

In today’s Gospel passage, we might think Jesus is saying that we need to treat children kindly.  While that understanding is not wrong, it is not his main message.  Rather, Jesus is telling his followers that it is the least among us who we should serve.  It is those without status or without power who true Christians serve.  Recall, too, the scripture that echoes this thought when Jesus says he came not to be served but to serve.  That is his answer to who is the greatest among us.   Evangelist Mark also countered false teachers who saw Jesus as a divine miracle worker and themselves as successors.  Thus, Mark emphasized service and humility—symbolized by the cross.

The teaching is still counter-cultural since we are raised to be hired into a fine job, seek promotions, acquire leadership roles with “perks,” and “ladder climb” throughout life.  By contrast, Jesus is telling you and me that our most basic identity is to be, as the Jesuit motto states, a “man or woman for others.”

Today’s reading is timely for people associated with Boston College—a Jesuit university regarded as one of the country’s finest educational institutions.  This is the weekend on which they play what is now called their “Red Bandanna” football game.  Just as Jesus used the symbol of a child to illustrate his point, so on our altar is the symbol of a red bandanna which commemorates the life of a Boston College graduate.  He embodied being a “man for others” when 9/11 took place.  Several months after that tragedy occurred, his parents learned the details of how their son perished that day.  He held a well-paying position and worked on an upper floor of the World Trade Center.  As stated in Wikipedia, survivors

“. . . didn’t know his name. They didn’t know where he came from. But they knew the man in the red bandana had saved their lives. He called for fire extinguishers to fight back the flames. He tended to the wounded. He led those survivors down the stairs to safety and carried a woman on his shoulders down 17 flights. Then he went back. Back up all those flights. Then back down again, bringing more wounded to safety. Until that moment when the tower fell.”

Welles Remy Crowther’s bravery and selflessness have inspired numerous tributes. In 2024, Rockland County introduced a cyber detection dog named “Remy” in his honor. Remy, a black lab trained to detect electronic devices used in criminal activities, is one of only 100 “cyber dogs” in the United States. The dog wears a red bandana, symbolizing Crowther’s iconic red bandana worn during the 9/11 rescue efforts.

Each year, the home football game closest to 9/11 sees Boston College players wear Crowther’s name on their jerseys along with their number appearing as a red bandanna.  Many in attendance wear red bandannas showing their solidarity with a BC graduate whose heroic, Christian sacrifice embodied a vision they were trying to incarnate. 

So this week we have a child, a red bandanna, and a cross—as symbols of the service that today’s Gospel states is what identifies us as Christians.  What follows are reflections you might spend private time considering:

If you’re not in service to others, you’re not living the Christian life. 

True honor can be found in the most unlikely places.

“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“ . . . anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve.  You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve… You don’t have to know [Einstein’s theory of relativity] to serve.  You only need a heart filled with [desire to do the right thing]” 

And if the notion of service is intimidating, think of what Mother Teresa said:  “If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.” 

He who shuts his ear to the cry of the poor will himself also call and not be heard. (Proverbs)

Service is God’s therapeutic counsel telling you how to be fully you.

And the Christian notion of service is “wonderful because nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” 

“A bone to the dog is not charity.  Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.” 

While not a liturgical holiday, “Grandparents Day” was a good event probably spawned by candy/flower/restaurant corporations.

Grandparents are included in Mother’s and Father’s Day celebrations, but our grandparents deserve recognition for the roles they play in many households.  They’ve learned from raising their own children, and have a second chance to do an even better job in doing it again. 

The Lakota Sioux Indians begin all prayer by addressing “Grandfather, Great Spirit” (Tunkashila Wakan Tanka)—recognizing the Creator as a very special relative and giver of life.  This idea gives spiritual substance to Indian cultures that frequently refer to “elders” as especially worthy of our reverence.  Black Elk reflected that elders should be taken good care of and learned from—since they are close to God when in their final years. 

Sometimes, grandparents (great-grandparents) feel that their presence is no longer useful, and so they get discouraged.  They often don’t realize that the family is just glad that grandmother and grandfather are present!  It doesn’t matter if they’re make the family meal, mopping the floor, or some other chore.  It’s their presence  that matters.  I don’t think of this experience without recalling the void my family felt when my grandmother went back to God.  I missed putting a shot of whiskey in her egg nog at Thanksgiving time.  I should say a “half a shot” of whiskey—as my grandmother did not imbibe well—and a “half” was plenty for her (even when she was young).

So it’s Grandparents Day this weekend.  It wouldn’t hurt to express your appreciation to your loved ones.  And if your grandparents are no longer with us—why not give your grandchildren a treat of some kind—and tell them you’re celebrating BEING a grandparent to them.

This is also the weekend that we read from Mark’s gospel instead of John’s.  Recall that Mark is the oldest of the 4 Gospels—and is thought to have provided material for Luke’s and Matthew’s books.  Mark’s is the shortest of the 4, and is the only one that has today’s story of the deaf-mute.  Interestingly, Mark’s Gospel is written in Greek and uses the same word for both “mute” and “deaf.”  Therein lies the potent meaning of the encounter with Jesus.  Think of people who can’t hear anything as infants.  They might never be able to speak.  Now think of this theologically.  If our young (or older ones) hear nothing about our faith and have no participation within the sacraments (like attending Mass), what will they be able to say about God,  or Jesus, or Christian virtues.  Our faith-life is SUPPOSED to stir within us a movement of Spirit that motivates us to feed the hungry, clothe, the naked, etc.  But if you hear nothing about your faith, what will motivate you to accomplish anything of value?

Within that long-ago first-century world, Jesus was a healer.  As with other tribes in other parts of the world (North America, too), people did not regard illness or physical misfortune the same way as us.  Instead of saying something like “He caught a virus” or “She slipped and broke her ankle,” people would say: “An evil spirit did this to him/her!”  And as was the custom, if an evil spirit was present (as with the deaf-mute whose condition signaled an evil spirit’s work), the healer would “spit” to chase it away.  In this instance, Jesus spit and then rubbed the man’s spirit-stricken disability.  Voila!  The miracle worker did his thing.  What a great miracle worker Jesus was.  Yay.  He could overcome evil spirits!  Write about his power in action-packed comic books.

Stop.  That’s not the main point of this story.

What we’ve read is that Jesus performed an exorcism that cast out whatever prevented the man from hearing THE WORD OF GOD and sharing it, or speaking it to others.  THAT is what Mark was telling his audience.  Put another way, any incident that reported someone locked in the grasp of an evil spirit or demon—is the Evangelist’s way of saying that Jesus can heal you of YOUR demons, and lead you out of the paralyzing addiction or affliction or behavior that prevents you from becoming the best version of yourself.

This deaf-mute story addresses we humans who carry memories of something we’ve done that shames or festers in our conscience.  At the beginning of the incident, we’re told that Jesus speaks to the man (you or me) “in private.”  And so it is, the healing we can receive from living the Christ-life is offered to us privately as the risen Lord speaks to our hearts.  I was reminded of a country-western song that might speak to you in contemporary terms of everyday life:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkZyqxVCPYs  (or Google Youtube Walk On Reba McIntyre).

This week we buried two parishioners and I was once again reminded of God calling each of us one day.  We’ve walked many paths in life and found ourselves in mid-Michigan.  Grandparents see family members and each of us deaf-mutes look at our lives and wonder if where we are is where we should be.  While thinking these different thoughts, I was reminded of a best-selling novel of several decades past: I Heard the Owl Call My Name.  It was made into a film and told the story of an Episcopalian priest assigned to an Indian reservation in Canada’s British Columbia

[Google this site to see the entire film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAoIYDxNefU]

The “reserve” (what Canadians say instead of our “reservation”) is a poverty-stricken fishing village, and the priest thinks of his role as that of one who will help people fit into the larger Canadian society.  By the story’s end, it is he who learned from the people.

A scene that came to mind was that of the priest speaking with the local school teacher.  This man was condescending toward his students and the reserve people in general.  The priest invites him to attend services and the man says he’s not a religious man.  The priest replies that if it weren’t for a teacher in the 7^th grade who inspired him, he’d be nowhere at all.  Whereupon the teacher said: “Look around you, vicar, this IS nowhere at all.”

Because the priest was trying to understand what his role among the people should be, the teacher’s observation hit home.  Then he learns that he has a fatal disease that will take him to eternity in the months ahead (the people believe that one’s death day is near when one “hears the owl call my name”). 

Like grandparents who might think their lives aren’t of much consequence now that they can’t get around like they once did.  Like each of us deaf-mutes who deal with our limitations and wonder if our lives will be of any further consequence, we’re like the priest (who was buried there on the reserve cemetery grounds).

Before the owl called his name, he learned that THERE on a destitute Indian reserve, was far from being “nowhere.”  Because he was God’s child, among other of God’s children from a far different background than his.  He was very much SOMEWHERE important.  And so it is that God know each of us by name, and is with us HERE—making our presence with others of supreme importance.

This Sunday’s scripture gives us a description of what should define one’s religion.  Namely, it is to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.  Let’s translate what, exactly, that means.  As ever, we need to go beyond the literal meaning of what we read in scripture.  In this case, we’re NOT being told to just look after widows and orphans.  The reference includes them but is a way of referring to those who are most neglected and poor in society.  “Widows and orphans” is “code” for the marginalized and “have-nots.” 

You can see how this definition might upset some people—because many dismiss these underdogs by saying “God helps those who help themselves!”  Or, “Charity begins at home.”  Or, “We take care of our own” (and no others). There are different ways we can let “the wretched of the earth” remain wretched, but Jesus taught us to “feed the hungry” and “clothe the naked,” and that has defined Christian philosophy since its beginning.  There’s a quote from a 3rd-century Roman historian that says: “The Romans feed the Romans and the Jews feed the Jews, but the Christians feed everyone.”  So you can see how early those outreach roots were in identifying our ancestors’ behavior.

Speaking of which, this past week saw two feast days observed—one devoted to Saint Monica and the other to her son, Saint Augustine.  They lived around the year 400, and just for good measure, John the Baptist’s feast day also took place this week (he lived in the 1st century).  All three are relevant to scripture this weekend and to each of us in attendance.

St. Monica was a devoted mother who prayed and prayed for her son to turn his life around.  She never gave up on him, but instead did all she could to help her son make better choices—choices that were grounded in the Gospel and not in his self-interest.  She is like the mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers in the parish here—praying for their young to have a “conversion experience.”  She never gave up, and eventually saw the day come when Augustine was one of the greatest theologian-preachers in early Christendom.

A sidebar to Augustine’s story is that the Augustinian congregation—founded a few hundred years after Augustine was alive once included the Catholic priest we know in history as Martin Luther.  Luther tried to reform the Church and make innovations that eventually were adopted by Rome.  He was, however, excommunicated and is associated with what we know today as the Lutheran division of Christianity.  Centuries before Catholics offered the Mass in English, Luther was a proponent of Mass (and the Bible) in the language of the people. 

Like everyone, he made mistakes, and one was his hostility toward Judaism.  He also had the gall to argue for the Letter of James to be dropped from the canon of New Testament books.  Coincidentally, our second reading today is from that very letter.  Christians had been reading it as part of the canon for 1500 years when Luther argued that it be dropped, but this was one argument he did not win.

After he led a life of debauchery (recorded in his religious classic The Confessions of Saint Augustine), this “Doctor of the Church” influenced Christian thought regarding “original sin.”  Jewish tradition did not think of Adam, Eve, and the serpent in terms of the devil tempting our “first parents” with fruit (the “apple” was not in the biblical story but became the popularly imagined fruit many centuries later).  Instead, a first-century writing titled The Life of Adam and Eve conjured up Satan as the snake causing humans to commit the ORIGINAL sin. 

Perhaps because he led such a sinful life, Augustine focused on the sinful aspect of our human identity. Our Jewish relatives, however, read the story as one of original BLESSING. Augustine’s legacy combined with Luther’s to see branches of Christianity emphasize our fallen human nature—a famous colonial writing by Jonathan Edwards capturing the mindset of many Christians who thought we all were “Sinners In The Hands of An Angry God.’

And this takes us back to today’s Gospel.  It gives us a list of behaviors we should do our best to avoid.  We are tempted to express these behaviors at different times, so it is good that we spend some time reflecting on how they influence our thinking.  Take some time and spend a period of reflection on how these non-Christian thought patterns arise in our everyday lives.

Three topics cited in the Gospel are already familiar to us in the 10 Commandments.  We’re told to NOT steal, murder, or commit adultery. If you’ve not committed these deadly behaviors, how might you have done so metaphorically, or figuratively?

We’re then asked to consider the role of “greed” in our lives.  Our intense, selfish desire for more money or power can destroy lives.  We hear of inflation being high but how many of us write food corporations that have been making 300 or 400% profit—the only reason grocery prices are high is because the CEOs and Boards can price gouge!  What makes one seek 100% profit, then 200, then 300, then 400?  Greed!  No trait of Christian behavior.

What simmers within us when we want to see something unpleasant happen to someone?  “Malice” is not a Christian attitude. As with “envy,” this trait pulsates with ill will and serves no good end.  How often I’ve harbored malice or envy, or seen it within others, and later learned that the target of this hostility was forced to carry much heavier crosses than I ever did.  How dare I be upset that they experienced something nice or fell prey to some hurtful event?

 Or imagine if everyone practiced “deceit” on everyone with whom they interacted.  All of us would have to cope with lies that ensnared us in bad products that hurt us in some way.  When truth is misrepresented to us, we are forced to make poor decisions, or just stand on shaky ground all the time.  The Russians celebrated in 2016 when their candidate for the U.S. presidency won.  They spent millions of dollars flooding social media with lies that many Americans believed were truthful reports (even using actors to portray Americans praying that Hilary Clinton not win).  We didn’t even know we were being duped by Russians!

Today’s Gospel also cites licentiousness as a behavior that only brings trouble via lewd conduct.  One would think that the many deaths and damage done by venereal diseases would scare us away from this behavior—but Augustine was qualified to tell us that this behavior produces no good result.  Nonetheless, most advertising has a sexual component to it that casts a reptilian appeal to us “poor souls.”

Or how about the trait known as “folly?”  It refers to our lack of good sense when acting a certain way.  For example, you see something that casts appeal.  You can’t afford it but you get it anyway “because I wanted it.”  Meanwhile, the roof is leaking and your costly purchase will affect your home life and the health of your family.  You act on impulse and do not use the good sense God gave you to make good decisions.  You wanted something and you took it—as when someone grabs another sexually and thus becomes a predator.  You want something and you act solely on your basest instinct.  Not Christian.  So what do we do about this?

Spend a day on each of these “traits” of human behavior that affect us so negatively.  Take each one separately and ask God to help you extricate it from your life.  And at the same time, take to heart a quote of Augustine that might help calm your frustration in dealing with the void you feel even when things are going your way.  The doctor of the Church knew that “Our hearts were made for God, and they will not rest until they rest in God.”

In the meantime, think of the 3^rd saintly feast day of this past week—that of John the Baptist.  He was someone who knew that he was not, and would never be, the Messiah.  He always pointed to Someone greater than himself, and so lived his life trying to give glory to God (and not himself).  We’re raised to put ourselves at the center of attention and be recognized as someone great—and we are (in God’s eyes).  But our role in everyday experience is always to thank the One from whom all good things come.  Our role, as the Letter of James tells us today, is to be doers of the Word and not just listeners of it.”

The first reading today comes from the Book of Joshua.  Maybe you know someone named Joshua.  That’s the Hebrew name for “Jesus.”  That is, if Jesus came among us as an English speaker, we’d be referring to him as “Josh” or “Joshua.”  Recall, too, that Joshua took over the leadership of the Israelites when Moses died.  Jesus has been called a “second Moses” for showing how we can reach the “Promised Land”—just as Moses led his people TO the Promised Land.  Moses died before crossing the river to step foot there—so it was Joshua who actually led the way (so “Jesus” took the Israelites into that land—and like a 2^nd bookend, Jesus led us to that place.

Today’s first reading has further relevance to us—that might not come to mind upon first hearing it.  Namely, we hear of the Israelites meeting diverse tribes in this new territory, each of them worshiping a different god.  Then the great scriptural quote concludes today’s reading when we hear Joshua say: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord [Yahweh]”—and not the many other gods that capture the attention of the different tribes.  That line from Joshua can be found in religious goods stores, and people then proudly hang that plaque somewhere visible in their house—for visitors to see and as a reminder to the occupants.  We need these sorts of reminders—along with a crucifix in each bedroom or in the den or living room.

The gospel also provides us with a line that likewise should be tattooed on our hearts.  Jesus asks of the apostles (us, too): “Do you also want to leave?” And our response to his question should echo Peter’s: “To whom shall we go?”  With Peter, we know it is Jesus “who has the words to eternal life.”  Not only that, but his words are the philosophy that guides our decision-making (at least, it SHOULD guide it).  This takes us back to the reading from Joshua.

This passage might initially sound simply like Israelite history—but it’s more than that.  It’s a commentary on our era!  How’s that?  Because you and I have a smorgasbord of “gods” to adopt and place at the center of our consciousness.  And NOT the Lord revealed in Jesus.

I’m reminded of the old Braniff Airlines commercial that said: “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.”  It was a catchy statement produced by Madison Avenue that taps within us a certain self-centered desire to be noticed for what we have in wealth and possessions.  Is that what Jesus did—flaunt his powers or possessions?  No.  Nowadays we don’t hear Braniff commercials but we do hear in everyday speech some kind of reference to having “swag”—something that draws attention to how cool we look, how we dress, or what we own.  Again, is having “swag” a value Jesus taught?  No.  The term is generally used in a good-natured way but still has the subtle effect of moving us to seek the praise of others.  This human tendency is why Ignatius encouraged people to do all things “For the greater glory of God” (and not our personal glory).

So the Joshua reading reminds us that there are a lot of “gods” out there in secular society.  Our participation in a faith community indicates we at least acknowledge that we are not gods, and that we need to consult the One who created us.  We need to be at “table” with the Lord at Mass where we can hear God’s word, reveal in prayer our heart’s longings, raise our voices in song prayer, be inspired by choir members reminding us of angel voices, see fellow parishioners helping where they can in serving others at the table—and realizing that God loves them and calls them to be the flesh and blood of Christ for others with whom they interact.

By contrast, many serve a contending power whose scriptures appear in many different forms.  These are the canons of the god known as “secularism”—a definition of which is “the practical exclusion of God, the Sacred, the Christ—in everyday life.”  This god is a powerful one—as it has us locked into schedules and athletic practices and entertainment and lawn care and hobbies and TV, etc., etc.  The list of this god’s minions is endless.  They appear as reasons why so many Catholics avoid an hour-long Mass on the weekend. One isn’t hostile to the REAL god.  Rather, one has “practical” obligations to go fishing, attend a ball game, mow the lawn, sleep in, etc., etc.  All practical reasons that one uses to justify not putting time with God into their weekly schedule in some way.  Again, recall Joshua saying: “As for me and my household, we shall serve the Lord.”

For those who find it a challenge to wake up on Sunday morning or attend Saturday afternoon Mass, I suggest they give the Tuesday 5 p.m. mass a try, or the Thursday 6 p.m. Mass.  Make an evening of it—Mass followed by dinner at a restaurant with someone close to you.  What a shot in the arm that double-whammy could be.

Another topic scripture suggests and which this week brings to my mind is that of “vocation.”  Bishop Gruss has asked that all the parishes pray for vocations and that they use the traditional prayer known as the “memorare.”  A timely topic for me this week because it’s my anniversary of entering the Society of Jesus with 21 other guys.  Back then, we had more “provinces” than we do today, and my geographical province was Detroit.  The Chicago Province had about 30 guys enter that year, and the Wisconsin Province had about the same number.  Those 3 provinces drew about 75 novices that year.  Over time, the Jesuits combined those 3 provinces into what we now call the “Midwest Province.”  This year’s entrance class?  6 guys—from what was at one time 3 provinces that drew 75 guys.

So you see why all the bishops are beating the bushes for fellows to become priests.  Some might suggest we ordain women, but Pope John Paul 2 the 2^nd said this topic is not to be discussed.  As a result, a number of women have joined the Episcopalian Church and become priests within that denomination.  Some people might suggest ordaining married men (as was done until around 1100 a.d.).  People see that the Church accepted former Lutheran and Episcopalian priests into the Church, and they were married.  How can it be that one get ordained a non-Catholic priest, be married, and then join the Catholic Church as a married priest?  This issue has been an issue with which the Church has been wrestling.

Meanwhile, however, there are within our ranks any number of people who should be considering the role they could play as a priest.  Does the topic ever arise in your household?  Have your children or grandchildren ever said anything about the matter?  When I entered the Jesuits, I thought I’d be home in at least a week or two—so certitude about such topics need not be part of one’s thought process.  You who are older—parents and grandparents—what about YOUR vocation?  Every time you come to mass, that thought is at play in your mind and heart.  It basically amounts to you wondering or talking to God about what you’re doing with your life.  That is—how are you living out your vocation?

Keep this in mind whenever you feel inspired to do something that you think might really have legs to it—a good course of action to take that will help others and your own sense of being part of something bigger than just yourself.  You might feel a wave of hope or excitement about a challenge you want to engage.  As this experience flutters within your mind and heart, be prepared to hear your mind—or others—raise questions about your vision of what might be.  At this point, you are in need of what spiritual directors refer to as “discernment.”  Is what you’re entertaining “of God” or is it not? 

If it IS “of God,” another “movement of spirit” will arise within you that is unsettling, and makes you question your virtuous vision of what you might do.  This questioning or gnawing doubt need not be a demonic force that scares you into going nowhere and throwing in the towel.  It is generally more subtle than that.  It tells you something along the legendary lines of: “This apple is beautiful, isn’t it?  Why not take a bite of it?”

If you speak with God about your thoughts of doing something new and different and helpful to others, and if you seem to think God is smiling at you and encouraging you to do this good course of action that will help you and others—say: “No thanks.  I don’t feel like eating that apple.”

As you know, my vocation was to enter the Society of Jesus, or “Jesuits.”  The 3 other religious “orders” in the Church are Dominicans, Franciscans, and Benedictines.  Other nuns and priests join what are called “congregations” (not “orders”).  While the Orders and Congregations take vows that are generally poverty, chastity, and obedience, diocesan priests do not take vows.  Orders and Congregations tend to see their members go to different geographical regions where they serve people in different ways such as educationally, medically, and in missionary work whereas diocesan priests are ordained for a particular diocese within which they serve parishes or other Church institutions.

Use of the words “poverty, chastity, and obedience” are names for the vows one takes within the religious life, but commentators have suggested these words might be more confusing than clarifying.  For example, “poverty” does NOT mean one lives in destitution.  Synonyms have been proposed for these terms and they are: stewardship instead of poverty (what do you do with your time, talent, and treasure? Do you feed the hungry, clothe the naked?), hospitality instead of chastity (do you welcome the alien, receptive of others, gracious in greeting them, visit the sick, lonely, and imprisoned? and partnership instead of obedience (every good marriage is a partnership). 

The fact is that these terms are drawn from the life of Jesus, and it is HIS lifestyle that we are called to personify in our lives.  So each person who is Christian is called to live these vows.  I have seen married couples live these them as well if not better than priests who formally pronounce them in a chapel. 

Remember!  Jesus is coming—so look busy.

To a non-Christian, a line from John’s gospel today might sound really bizarre.  The evangelist reports that Jesus said: “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood.”  Yikes!  As a non-Catholic man once said to me: “You seem to have ritualized cannibalism in your ceremony.”  That’s how this Sunday’s passage came across to him.

This person’s understanding might make us roll our eyes—just as much as some might be concerned about what many biblical exegetes tell us about this verse.  Namely, they tell us that Jesus never said the words in this passage.  Huh?  How dare someone question what the Gospel says!  Hold on.  Let’s look at the “bigger picture” what the evangelists have written.

What we refer to as the “institution narrative” of the Eucharist—which you hear at each Mass—occurs when the priest says “Take this, all of you, and eat . . . this is the cup of my blood . . .”  This important moment in Christian history—Jesus at table with his disciples breaking bread—ISN’T IN JOHN’S GOSPEL!!!  Why did he not include it?

Did he not think it was important?  Hardly.  Then why didn’t he give us this “history?”  Aha!  Because neither he nor the other 3 evangelists are writing history.  They are writing a theology based on the life of Jesus.  Scholars tell us that John’s “Eucharistic meal” occurred when he fed the 5000 (and us) with just a few loaves of bread).  He didn’t need a “last supper” scene.

Theologian John Pilch reminds us that: “Literal drinking of blood was prohibited in Judaism and perhaps also in early Christianity (sec Gen 9:4; Lev 17:10, 12, 14; cf. Acts 15:29).  So keep in mind that the evangelists are all writing decades after Jesus died, and are presenting a THEOLOGY in their different books, e.g., Matthew has most references to the Old Testament because he seems to have aimed his Gospel at Jewish audiences while Luke aimed his at Gentiles. 

By contrast, John’s Gospel explores other territory.  And one reason for this is that he was writing at a later date than the others.  In the closing years of the first century,  By that time, “eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood” became a common way for Christians around the time of John’s Gospel to describe participation in the Eucharist. Ignatius of Antioch said, “I desire ‘the bread of God’ which is the flesh of Jesus Christ … and for drink I desire his blood.”

Forms of speech change over time in all areas of life—and so it was with our theological vocabulary and understanding.  Today, you hear these variations among Catholics when referring to drinking/sipping the consecrated wine.  One might refer to “the blood of Christ,” “the cup,” “wine,” “precious blood,” etc.  Each term refers to the same thing.

Pilch further says: “In John’s view, the Eucharist is not so much a memorial of Jesus’ death nor a continuation of mealtimes with Jesus during his life . . . Rather, John views the Eucharist as a liturgical or cultic extension of Jesus’ incarnation”—and in the middle of his covering the public ministry of Jesus—where succeeding generations of Christians ARE the Eucharistic community.

John put the feeding of 5000 immediately after his lengthy “homily” on the nourishment he provides in revealing the Father.”  It is a colloquialism for us to say: “I could take a bite out of you” when expressing affection for someone.  What Jesus is quoted as saying is John using the language of intimacy to make his point.

Church guidelines for interpreting scripture tell us that “Evangelists relate the words and deeds of the Lord in a different order, and express his sayings not literally but differently.”

The feast of the Assumption occurred this week, and its teaching is worth our reflection.  It was a dogma defined in 1950, and followed on the heels of an 1854 dogma announced by Rome.  Why, you might wonder, did it take the Church 1800 years to declare 2 dogmas of the church (a hundred years apart from one another and both dealing with Mary)? 

As for the Immaculate Conception, this is a MARIAN dogma.  A basic concern at play was this.  A widespread understanding of Genesis is that Adam and Eve’s “original” sin brought into human life such experiences as pain at childbirth, having to work for a living, and dying.  We inherited the sinful condition much like we think of genes passing to us our ancestral traits.  But there is a theological problem with this thinking.  Namely, if “Jesus was like us in all things but sin, we’ve backed ourselves into a problem.  Namely, since Mary was human, and since she gave birth to Jesus, he would have inherited “original sin” through her.

Well, it took 1800 years for the Church to clarify its theology.   This was done by declaring that Mary was “immaculately conceived.”   God spared Mary from inheriting the sinful condition.  Voila—no sinfulness was passed to Jesus.  The dogma was like a “deus ex machina” theological teaching that saved the Church from contradicting itself. 

N.B., the Latin phrase means “God from a machine” and derives from Greek theater.  Actors played the role of gods who were brought on stage using a machine. The machine could be a crane to lower actors from above or a riser that brought them up through a trapdoor.”  These devices were used to solve a “seemingly unsolvable problem in a story. An issue is suddenly or abruptly resolved by an unexpected and unlikely occurrence.”  In this case, the Church simply declared that Mary’s sinlessness existed because God declared her sinless (in order for Jesus to have two parents untouched by “original sin”).

So a kind of ecclesiastical deus ex machina solved the dilemma of having a Jesus inheriting original sin.  However, over the next hundred years, a problem arose with this “dogma.”

So Mary was declared sinless (“Immaculate”—like my 7^th grade teacher, Sr. Mary Immaculate).  Uh-oh.  So then she didn’t die (what happened to people because of Adam & Eve’s sin)?  In 1950, another deus ex-machina came to the rescue.  The Church declared that: “Having completed the course of her earthly life, [Mary] was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.” 

While critics of Catholicism might say this is pulling another rabbit from the hat, it is instead saying that Mary’s eternal destiny points to where we should direct all of our thoughts and deeds (i.e., eternal life with God).  It did NOT say she never died, but instead declared that she went straight to God upon her transition from this life to eternal life with God.  She is a role model, and her behavior of giving birth to Jesus in our daily life is what the Assumption celebrates every August 15^th.  That reality cuts through the theological challenges addressed above.

This same week also gives us the role model of “Servant of God” Nicholas Black Elk, the “holy-man” of the Oglala Sioux (Lakota).  He died the same year that the Assumption dogma was declared.  As he was laid to rest, people were of one mind recalling how good a man he was—always seeing God in the natural world and in the life of individuals.  If you are confronted with some illness that seems untreatable, pray to Nicholas Black Elk for help.  His cause for canonization awaits such a miracle to be reported.

Some think his first miracle occurred when he died.  That is, he told family members and friends that when he dies, he thinks God will give a sign in the sky that all is well—and that he is in what the Lakota call “the lad of many lodges” (heaven).  When he passed away on August 17^th, 1950, the sky was unlike what anyone had ever seen.  At 11 p.m. it was like daytime—so bright was the sky with falling stars and the Northern Lights.  His friend, John Lone Goose, said that people were a bit frightened at the immensity of the celestial display.  Even the next day, when the rain made the cemetery grass slippery and the people all wet, the sun broke through the clouds and shone on his grave as he was lowered into the ground.

As a young man and adult, Black Elk prayed to the “Thunder Beings” who his people said controlled lightning and thunder and rain—and he was able to make storms go away (so people claimed).  There was no doubt about the man’s saintliness on this occasion.  His lifestyle, like Mary’s, made it seem that heaven was a destination we all might one day claim as our own—if we but imitate the example they set.

A bird’s eye view of how archaeology helps our study of scripture. 

The story of Jesus is well known. in addition to the gospels, numerous secular authors within 150 years of his life mention him. In addition, Josephus affirms that Jesus was called the Christ and that his brother was James, Pliny the Younger notes that Christians worshipped Jesus “as a god,” and Tacitus wrote that Christ, “suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus.”  No serious historian questions the existence of Jesus.  Numerous archaeological discoveries affirm and illuminate details about Jesus’ life as recorded in the gospels.  Here are the top ten discoveries related to Jesus.

10.  The Galilee Boat. In 1986, a severe drought in Israel resulted in the water level of the Sea of Galilee dropping several meters.  2 brothers went along the shoreline for archaeological objects and discovered the outline of an ancient boat in the mud.  The fragile wood, exposed for the first time in 2000 years, required skill to remove it safely.  It was submerged in a chemical preservative for 11 years before it was put on display in a local museum.

The “Jesus Boat” is approximately 27 ft long, 7.5 ft wide, and 4 ft. deep, and would have accommodated a crew of up to 15 men. It was typical of the style of vessel that fishermen like Peter, Andrew, James and John would have used.  Jesus crossed the Sea of Galilee in such boats, and even taught from a boat when the shore became too crowded.  It’s the only ancient boat ever discovered at Galilee and helps us understand the types of boats Jesus and his disciples used.

9. Synagogues  The remains of the synagogue at Magdala.

While some scholars have suggested the synagogue did not arise until after the destruction of the temple in AD 70, and that the references to synagogues in the gospels are anachronistic, archaeology has proven otherwise.  To date the remains of ten synagogues dating to before AD 70 have been unearthed in Israel, including at Capernaum. Structures were public buildings used by Jews for civic and religious gatherings.  The religious gatherings focused on the study of the Hebrew Bible and prayer.”  The archaeological record affirms the descriptions of the synagogues in the gospels and helps us understand Jesus’ role as a teacher within first-century Judaism.

8. The Pool of Siloam.  Jesus healed a blind man by putting mud on his eyes and having him go wash in the Pool of Siloam. 

In 2004, the Pool of Siloam from the first-century was accidentally discovered during repairs to a drainage system. Archaeologists were called in to excavate and unearthed a large pool that had at least 20 steps leading down from the street level into the pool.  Pottery from one end of the pool was used to date it to the First-Century AD.  Given that it was in the exact location that scholars had long believed the actual Pool of Siloam to be – and that it dated to the time of Jesus, it was identified as the actual Pool of Siloam where the blind man had washed to receive healing.

7. Jacob’s Well.  Jesus met a Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well near Sychar and revealed to her that he was the Messiah.  Today, an ancient well located at the foot of Mt. Gerizim just south of the village of Askar is unanimously identified as Jacob’s Well by all traditions – Jewish, Samaritan, Christian, and Muslim.  A pilgrim account from AD 330 also identifies it as the well that Jesus visited.  French archaeologist Andre Parot once described the water from the well as “cool and pleasant-tasting…drawn from a depth of 128 feet.”  Today a Greek Orthodox church stands over the well.  While many modern tourist sites in Israel are of dubious authenticity, nearly all scholars agree is the actual location of Jacob’s Well where Jesus met the Samaritan woman and offered her “living water.”

6. The Southern Steps of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. A 61-meter wide flight of stairs led to the main entrances to the Temple complex; the easternmost portion of this staircase has been unearthed with alternating short and long steps. Jesus likely used these steps many times.

Josephus records that there was a wall on which there were warning signs in both Greek and Latin that forbade foreigners from going beyond that point on pain of death.  In 1871, a limestone slab with a seven-line warning inscription was discovered – the very one described by Josephus.  Jesus would have walked past these warning inscriptions many times. 

5, The Caiaphas Ossuary  He was the high priest who oversaw the trial of Jesus. The ancient historian, Josephus, records that Caiaphas’s full name was Joseph Caiaphas. In 1990, a construction team was building a water park near Jerusalem when their bulldozer plowed through the roof of a first-century tomb.  Archaeologists were called in and discovered a variety of ossuaries (bone boxes used in the first century), including an ornate one that was inscribed with the name “Joseph son of Caiaphas.”  Inside were the bones of six people, including those of a 60-year-old man which scholars believe are the remains of Caiaphas himself.

4. The Pilate Stone confirms that Pontius Pilate was Prefect of Judea.

All four gospels declare that the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, sentenced Jesus to death by crucifixion.  While his historicity has never been questioned,archaeological evidence for his existence was unearthed at Caesarea Maritima in 1961.  Excavations near the amphitheater revealed a limestone block inscribed with a dedication to Tiberius Caesar from “Pontius Pilate, Prefect of Judea.”  The Pilate stone confirms that Pilate was the Prefect of Judea, governing as the gospel writers described. Furthermore, in 2018, a copper ring that had been unearthed during the 1968-69 excavations at the Herodium was cleaned, photographed, and analyzed revealing the Greek inscription, “of Pilatus.” Rings like this were common among Roman soldiers, and since the name Pilate is uncommon, many believe the ring was once the property of Pontius Pilate or one of his servants.  The Pilate Stone and the Pilate Ring provide archaeological evidence for the Roman Prefect, Pontius Pilate, who handed Jesus over to be crucified.

3. The heel bone of the crucified man.  Archaeological evidence for Roman crucifixion was unearthed in 1968. A construction crew accidentally dug up several tombs in northeast Jerusalem.  Inside the tombs were several ossuaries, including one inscribed with the name Jehohanan, which contained skeletal remains of an adult male, including his heel bone with a nail still embedded in it.  The anthropologist who examined the remains determined that Jehohanan had been in his twenties when he was crucified in the first century (ca. AD 7-66). Further study revealed that he had likely been crucified with a leg on either side of the cross and the nail driven in sideways through his heel. The heel bone of the crucified man affirms the description of Jesus’ crucifixion in Scripture. Furthermore, it counters the objections of critics who have argued that Jesus would have been thrown into a mass grave for criminals rather than have been dignified with a proper burial.  We now see that the loved ones of a crucified victim could retrieve the body and prepare it for burial it in a family tomb.

2. Tomb of Jesus in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre   There are 3 tombs in Jerusalem purported to be the final resting place of Jesus. The site with the oldest attestation to being the tomb of Christ lies within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  Archaeological research has demonstrated that this site was a Jewish cemetery in an ancient limestone quarry outside the walls of Jerusalem at the time of Jesus’s death. This aligns with the biblical description of the tomb in which Jesus was laid outside the city walls.  The historian Eusebius wrote that the emperor Hadrian (2nd century) built a huge platform over the quarry and constructed a temple to Venus/Aphrodite (ironically the Latin/Greek goddess of love) over the tomb of Christ. This temple stood there until Emperor Constantine destroyed the pagan temple and excavated until he found the tomb of Christ. He then had a new structure (the Church of the Holy Sepulchre) built around the tomb. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre has been restored and rebuilt several times since its construction.

During restorations to the shrine that surrounds the remains of the ancient tomb, experts removed the limestone slab that covered the burial bed of the tomb for the first time in almost 500 years.  Mortar samples from the structure surrounding the tomb were tested, confirming it was built in the mid-4th century and then rebuilt Crusader chapel in the middle ages, affirming the ancient written history of the site. “Although absolute proof of the location of Jesus’ tomb remains beyond our reach, the archaeological and early literary evidence argues strongly for those who associate it with the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.”

The Nazareth Inscription is an edict from Caesar inscribed on a marble slab that imposes a death penalty in Israel for anyone caught moving bodies from family tombs, specifically “sepulchers tombs” such as the one Jesus was buried in. It is dates to the reign of Claudius (41-54 AD), and appears to be directed at a Jewish audience.   It is not common to see Caeser make such a pronouncement.  It was common for grave robbers to plunder tombs but not take bodies. Scripture says that Jewish leaders spread the lie that Jesus’ disciples had stolen the body to explain the fact that the grave was empty after Jesus rose from the dead.  This report reached the Roman emperor, who would have seen the new Christian sect as a dangerous, anti-Roman move

A different historical interpretation exists. Namely: “The context of the Nazareth Inscription clearly proves that it was written for Jews and not Gentiles and that it was almost certainly issued by Claudius in response to the story of the resurrection of ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’.”

Each of these discoveries is related to Jesus in some way, either representing a place he visited or people he interacted with, or an event central to his life.  Together they indicate that while scripture is not a history text, it is riveted in history and within the lives of real people.  They are the reason Jesus was here in human history—teaching us humans how to live.  The work of historians and archaeologists is important for many reasons but it is especially helpful in sorting through the predators who emerge over time.  We need people to help us recognize fact from fiction and reality from lies—such as occurred several years ago when a con man claimed to have found the ossuary of the apostle James. Thank God for those who seek truth within this field of study.

Today’s first reading tells us how the Israelites were grumbling against Moses and God for bringing them into a desert where they were starving and upset with their plight.  They felt as if God had abandoned them.  They began to think that God hadn’t saved them from slavery at all, and that they would be better off back in Egypt where they would at least have something to eat.  All of a sudden, however, quail started falling from the sky, and they had “miraculous” food.  Not only that, but in the morning they found a honey-like substance on the ground that was like a dessert. 

Relieved at these wonderful, sustaining gifts from heaven, the people felt that God had saved them once again.  And Moses reminded them to not lose faith in a God who gave them “manna in the desert” which was their “bread of life.”  Scholars tell us that this reference in Exodus pre-figures the coming of a Jesus who would give us the “bread of life”—Himself—in the Eucharist (just as Moses pre-figure the coming of Jesus).  But there’s more.

This past week saw Jesuits around the world celebrate the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus (the religious Order of men who are priests and brothers who put the initials “S.J.” after their name).  Drawing upon Old and New Testament sources, St. Ignatius offered guidance in his religious classic known as “The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius.” 

When watching the U.S. play Puerto Rico in the Olympics this week, I noticed that the head coach was Steve Kerr—a one-time Chicago Bull who played with Michael Jordan.  His first assistant there at the Games was Mark Few—the much-heralded coach of Gonzaga University’s basketball team that competes each year for the college championship.  Seeing him on the TV, I wondered how many people knew that Gonzaga is a Jesuit university (one of the 27 found across the U.S.A.).  I couldn’t help but think of the many times my being a Jesuit meant absolutely nothing to people who learned of the association.

Many moons ago, I had a conference with a Dean at Lake Superior State and hoped that my PhD in Anthropology might win me a role there.  Shortly into the conversation, I realized my visit to the Soo would accomplish nothing.  The woman was unfamiliar with Catholic priests employed at universities and needed to be informed of the longstanding reputation of Jesuits within higher education (at such schools as the University of Detroit, Boston College, Georgetown, and twenty-some others (all regarded as Class A schools, e.g., even the Jesuit school where I taught in West Virginia was identified by a national ranking service as the “Jewel of higher education in West Virginia”).  N.B. Due to economics, that “jewel” no longer exists.

Knowing this interview would go nowhere, I proceeded to educate this academic administrator.  I explained that the U.P. had cities named after Jesuits—such as St. Ignace and Marquette, and that Sault Ste. Marie itself was named by Father Marquette, S.J. (whose grave is in St. Ignace).  I think she may have violated the law when saying “You’re a little old to be seeking university employment aren’t you?”  Whereupon I told her that the average age of people receiving PhD’s in anthropology that year was my exact age!

Saginaw had a Jesuit connection when Henri Nouvel, S.J. celebrated the first Mass in the region—on Ojibway Island (a marker for which remains defaced by someone whose sense of history did not appreciate French priests on the Michigan frontier).  When the diocese blanded the Catholic high schools in Saginaw, Bishop Untener named the new entity “Nouvel”—after the Jesuit who said the first Mass, and because the word “nouvel” in French means “new” (as the high school would be the new institution—in 1985).

Jesuits received national attention during the Trump presidency when the president replaced the chaplain of the House of Representatives.  A Jesuit priest who both the Democratic and Republican House leaders had hired a few years earlier.  The priest had prayed for some issue that Mr. Trump thought should not have been prayed for—so he asked for his removal.  Steven Colbert periodically calls attention to Jesuits when he invites Fr. James Martin, S.J. to be a guest—someone Colbert humorously calls the chaplain of his nightly show.

This past May, Jesuit Greg Boyle, S.J. was awarded in Washington, D.C. the Presidential Medal of Freedom—an honor yearly bestowed on people who have made major contributions to humanity.  Google Greg’s name on YouTube and you can see/hear him present any number of commencement addresses he has given over the years.  His work has been with gangs in south-central LA where he started “Homeboys Industries”—a successful economic enterprise that has brought jobs to the poor and brought gangsters back into society where they make an honest living and raise their families.  I told him “I present people with the same sort of thoughts that you do, Greg . . . . . . only you do it a hundred times better than me.”  Some years back, 60 Minutes covered his work.

Now that you have a feel for some of my experience in dealing with the topic of Jesuits, it’s important that you know about the spirituality that Ignatius imparted to the Order he founded and the people who have adopted SJ spirituality into their lives.  Lay people today work at retreat houses where they guide people through this saint’s teachings.

One counsel Ignatius gave to generations of Christians is that they “Find, or discover, God in all things.”  This is what Moses and his fellow Israelites did when they saw the quail and honey-dew.  Besides grumbling about their problems (as we do), they looked at their experience and discovered or found God providing them with what they needed (in freeing them from Egypt and sustaining them on their journey to a land that had been “promised” to them by God).

The spirituality associated with this counsel further reminds us that we can grumble like the Israelites OR we can find God in all things—in some way or other.  Importantly, we can do so not just when we’re happy and well-fed and everything is going our way.  No!  When Jesus was born and we learned his name would be “Emmanuel,” we were told that this name meant “God is with us.”  And this means that God is with us not just in good times—but in good times and bad, in sickness and health, to death and beyond.  Harsh experiences can even force us to find God—in our effort to carry on.

Ignatius came upon this perspective when he was a young, playboy sort of nobleman at the court.  An adventurer, he relished bringing back the spoils of war and winning the admiration of the ladies.  However, when his leg was shattered by a cannonball, he was forever disabled—unable to walk as well as he once did.  His days of impressing superficial people had come to an end.  He was in a state of what he termed “desolation.” 

During his recovery, he asked the medical staff if they would bring him some romance novels to read.  They told him that all they had was a “Life of Christ” and a “Lives of the Saints” book.  Not what he wanted, he nonetheless read them and noticed how mood swings took place during this period of convalescence.  Namely, when he read about saints doing great things for people in different lands, he’d find himself fantasizing about doing something similar.  His spirit picked up and he experienced what he called “consolation.”

He noticed that when he fantasized himself accomplishing good things for people, he’d feel upbeat.  When he fantasized about living as he had before the cannonball injury, he experienced upbeat thoughts that would only last a short while—and then he’d go into a state of desolation.  This experience revealed to him that serving God’s people would be the road for him to travel.  Previously, he might raise his sword and proclaim: “For the greater glory of the king and for our greater glory.”  Now, however, he would proclaim “For the greater glory of God!”  This statement became the calling card of Jesuits.  All their efforts would be to promote the greater glory of God (in Latin, the phrase reads: Ad Maioren Dei Gloriam—often noted on the cornerstone of buildings as “AMDG”).

Go to a Jesuit college or high school, and you may well find the institution presenting a “Magis Award” to someone in its ranks who has gone the extra mile in helping what Ignatius referred to as “the Kingdom” (of Christ on earth).  Magis is a Latin word that means “the more.”  It refers to God calling you and me to always realize we can improve our efforts to live the Gospel.  I was reminded of this concept when hearing a line from singer Jackson Browne’s song that said: “Wherever I am, I’m a day away from where I want to be.”

You and I often enough think to ourselves that we’ve done our fair share of assisting some institution (family, community, world, activity, organization, etc.).  Or we think to ourselves that we know the score on some issue or other—and no one will change our minds on the matter.  We look at our lives and say “I’m retired.  Let others do what they can.”  Or we’re confined to the home and have little mobility.  We are resigned to having no role.

The concept of “the magis” stops us in our tracks, and tells us that our vision is not God’s vision.  As long as we exist, we are being called to be Christ-like in SOME way we apparently don’t see or acknowledge.  Ignatius calls us to seek the magis in whatever we are doing.

The “General” of the Jesuits (his title since Ignatius modeled the Order on a military regimen) when I entered was a Spaniard named Pedro Arrupe, S.J.  He might be canonized one day—so admired was he in leading the Jesuits.  He survived the A-bomb at Hiroshima and ministered to the wounded.  A concept he urged Jesuits to embrace was that all our institutions and ministries should aim to produce “Men and women for others.” 

You will help my ministry at John XXIII parish by continuing to be a man or woman for others.  You and I are called to find God in all things so that we can pursue the magis that God is calling us to perform (whatever our circumstances). We do our best in order to give glory to God—not ourselves.

 How might God be calling you to serve the Kingdom?

This past week, a crowd of 50 thousand Catholics attended the Eucharistic Renewal Conference in Indianapolis.  Appropriately, the Sunday’s gospel gave us a special “take” on Eucharist that tends to get obscured when hearing the institution narrative at each Mass (i.e., “Jesus took the bread, blest it . . . saying ‘Take this’” and “He took the chalice . . .”).  John’s gospel has no such “last supper” scene.  But John’s gospel this weekend is just as solidly Eucharistic as the other accounts.

Instead of the Last Supper’s ritual context, John gives us the story of 5000 hungry men gathered on a hill at the time of Passover.   John’s account echoes the first reading that told of how 20 men were miraculously fed when it seemed there wasn’t enough food to go around.  John’s crowd, however, was much larger—and Jesus saw to it that they were fed.

While we’re accustomed to hearing the words of consecration at Mass, this scene from John’s Gospel reminds us that the Eucharist is intended to feed us outside liturgical contexts as well.  We can gather anywhere and confess that we need to rely on nourishment that can come to us in social interaction (as when the crowd of 5 thousand experienced Him in a secular gathering).

Did you notice where this event took place?  Our old friend, the mountain once again signaled to us that something special was to take place!  God was about to make an appearance in some miraculous way.  John’s account no doubt reminded people of what we read in 2 Kings when others were miraculously fed.  Only this time, the crowd was much larger—and Jesus eclipsed the Old Testament’s wondrous event.

John didn’t need to report the Eucharist’s institution narrative that told how and when Jesus gave us the sacrament (i.e., “On the night before he died, he took bread . . . “).  John didn’t need to repeat what the other evangelists said because he referred to people “reclining” (a clear association with the early Christian custom of “reclining” at their Eucharistic gatherings). 

Just as the Last Supper accounts are associated with the season of Passover, so John states that the feeding of the multitude took place during Passover!  He is reporting the same reality, but it is taking place outdoors—not restricted to apostles only, but in the midst of 5000 men.  In this instance, the Eucharistic assembly is on a mountainside.  It draws people together where they are fed by the Master.  The same theological idea is thus presented to us in two different ways. 

Some might not like hearing scripture note that “men” were gathered, and that no reference is made to the presence of women.  Not referring to women is not translated in a broader way because the first century reality of gatherings would see men alone gather in numbers this large.  Mixing of the sexes did not occur in Israelite tribal society.  This tribal custom of men in one place and women in another was not unique to New Testament times.

Cultures globally have all sorts of behavioral rules about men and women mixing or not mixing in public or private.  For example, many groups have women’s quarters and men’s quarters—husbands and wives NOT bedding down together as is the custom in our American world.

I was reminded of teaching at Pine Ridge.  We’d have a high school dance, and girls would sit along the wall on one side of the gym and guys on the other side.  It’s just the way social life occurred—people dancing in the center if they wished to do so, and a few boys/girls talking—but a division quite visible.

A boy in the crowd is said to have carried with him a couple of fish.  This reference to fish is not just some arbitrary food that could have just as well been hot dogs (had they existed back then).  Rather, the Greek word for fish is “icthus” and that word was an acronym for early Christians.  Namely, “fish” (in Greek letters) stood for “Jesus Christ Son of God Savior.”  So the story about feeding an enormous population (the world?) with bread and fish is a lesson in Eucharistic theology.  The bread and fish (preserved in wine) symbolize the presence of the risen Lord in the breaking of bread Christian sacrament.  And the Eucharist is for Christians a new Passover meal, a new Moses saving the people, and a new Lamb of God.  If all this didn’t ring a bell for you, maybe you noticed how the story says that Jesus “took the bread, broke it, and passed it to all present.”  Sound familiar?  You hear those words at every Mass.

Hmm.  What more might be found in these verses?  Aha! 12 wicker baskets of bread fragments were left over.  Might that conjure up thoughts of the 12 tribes of Israel being fed by this Messiah?  And not only them, but others, too—since so much was left over.  Even enough to feed 12 new apostles perhaps?  You get the point.  This story is more than just a miraculous picnic meal in a mountain meadow.

On a nuts and bolts level, one need not connect all the dots of the above when they might simply benefit from this often told lesson.  Perhaps the presence of Jesus and the apostles was enough to inspire the boy, and others, to pull out what they carried with them—and share their food with others.  After all, the point of the Eucharist is for us to share our time, talent, and treasure with others.  Perhaps that’s the incident’s key message.

Or might the story’s point be addressing an aspect of our lives that raised its head in the time of Jesus, and in our own time.  That is, last week reminded us of the compassion Jesus felt toward those who were “like sheep without a shepherd.”  And this week, he again has pity on the people and wants to feed them.

The more we read about how Jesus dealt with people, the more we can detect His type of speech if it is uttered by politicians or spoken in the workplace.  We can hear someone make a speech or talk to someone—and right away be detect if the person is speaking as Jesus would have spoken.  We know if someone speaks in the same tone of voice, and if the content of what they say echoes the Master. 

The story about loaves and fishes feeding 5000 does NOT report  Jesus saying to the crowd: “You should have planned ahead.  Don’t come begging from me.”  And we don’t hear him say “God helps those who help themselves.”  Scripture can both teach us how to communicate with others and also WARN US not to be seduced by voices that do not sound like something Jesus would say.

I don’t know what ground was covered in this past week’s Eucharistic Congress, but the topic brought to mind something that Mother Theresa had hanging in her room.  This is what it said:

“A Holy Hour before the Eucharist is important only if it leads us to a “holy hour” with those in need or those who will never be a human success.  Our Eucharist is incomplete if it does not make us respect and serve the poor and anyone in need. In receiving the communion of the poor, we discover our own poverty.”  As the spiritual writer, Louis Evely, wrote: “That man is you.”