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.” 

Today’s gospel tells of Jesus and the apostles needing rest after working with the people.  They sought a “deserted place” where they could relax, recover, and then return to their ministry.  I was reminded of what Catholic tradition has called a “retreat.”  This term refers to one taking time off from their regular schedule and spending time reflecting on their life and asking God for guidance and insight. 

When one enters the Society of Jesus, or Jesuits (the religious Order to which I belong), they make what’s known as a “30-day retreat.”  Based on what’s known as “the spiritual exercises of Saint Ignatius,” this period offers reflections for one to ponder and draw spiritual strength (just as one does physical “exercises” to acquire physical strength).  At the end of their training period, Jesuits make another 30-day retreat—having made 8-day retreats each year.  For some years, lay people have made the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius, and even work at retreat houses where they direct anyone who wishes to make a retreat.

Some years back, corporations began to refer to their sales seminars as “retreats.”  Over time, businesses now speak of employees going on “retreats”—meaning the employees are being taught how to make more profits for the corporation.  Religion has no connection to this use of the word “retreat.”  The term has been hijacked from the vocabulary of Catholic spirituality. 

More importantly, today’s gospel reminds us of an important element of Christian identity—a trait that makes our identity as Christians a difficult one to live.  We’re told that Jesus looked at the “vast crowds” (that’s you and I) and felt compassion toward them.  He sees them as “sheep without a shepherd.” 

I’ve often been in a congregation, looked around at the people with me, and seen young, old, happy, and sad faces directed toward the altar.  My face is one of those people.  Each of us is seen by a God who lovingly beholds us and who knows what lies behind the faces we wear on any given day.  The “real presence” of God is at the Eucharist, and the God we seek is not there to belittle us, but to help us with whatever we hold within our silence.  Today’s gospel passage reminds us of Jesus having pity on us, and reaching out to us who have so many needs.

I’m reminded of another gospel incident—that told of Jesus calling us Christians to love one another.  We might too quickly think that we do care for others and are not a “bad” person.  But are we really loving or compassionate toward others?  Or are we loving and compassionate mostly toward our spouse, children, siblings, and extended family members?  We might think of ourselves as being a pretty good person in relating to our family and friends, but Jesus reminds us that “even the scribes and Pharisees” behave that way.  The gospel calls us to expand our circle to include more than just family and friends.

Extending this reflection further, think of studies that focus on the interplay of mothers loving their babies and babies loving their mothers.  Is their experience a choice, or a chemical action within our physiology?  After all, studies show that “oxytocin” (known as the “love chemical”) rises within both a mother and her baby when relating to one another.  Similarly, the family dog has this same increase ALONG WITH its owner when greeting one another after a period of separation.  The presence of oxytocin within us generates feelings of “love” toward another (child or dog).

Similarly, when one says “it was love at first sight” when they met a girlfriend or boyfriend—MIGHT relate to what are known as “pheromones” within the two people.  Studies suggest that we have a chemistry that sensitizes us to a certain chemical that attracts us to a certain person (or people).  This is somewhat parallel to a female dog in heat attracting males from miles around.  We don’t consciously inhale a person’s “scent,” but for some reason find one person more attractive than another—and we are drawn to that person.  This pheromonal activity is more subtle than an erotic response to someone.  You are attracted to someone UNCONSCIOUSLY.  Thus, inquiring minds wonder to what extent we are controlled by chemistry or by choices we make via “free will” or “cultural conditioning.?”

I watched a video that showed an African water buffalo repeatedly probing the ground with its horns trying to move something.  Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was trying to help a tortoise “get back on its feet.” After several uplifts of its head and horns, the buffalo was able to flip the tortoise aright.  It stepped back and just looked at the tortoise be on its way in another direction.  What on earth was at play here?  What prompted that water buffalo to help a tortoise that was struggling?

A goat put its head through fence posts, and couldn’t pull its head back out.  Being stuck this way, it needed help.  Along comes a goose who walks over to the goat and clamps its beak on the goat’s neck—trying to pull it back through the fence.  A woman came and told the goose she’d help, and the goose stepped back a couple of paces to watch.  The woman was successful and both she and the goose wandered away.  What on earth was at play here?  What prompted that goose to try and help that goat?

I read somewhere that dogs lick a cut as a form of medical assistance and that some chemical might be at play that aids in the recovery of a cut.  Show your scratch to a dog, and it will begin to lick it—not because it likes to lick wounds, but because it possibly “heals” wounds in this fashion.  If a dog sees that you have a wound of some kind—prepare to be “doctored.”

It seems that water buffaloes, geese, and dogs can be compassionate toward others—even those who are not their own kind.

When it comes to behavior within the animal world (remember we are in the animal kingdom), I’m reminded of people eating caterpillars, cats, and insects of all kinds when 99.9% of Americans would not eat any of these creatures.  A biologist friend of mine would invite students and faculty to join him whenever he collected cicadas to fry.  Not many people joined him, but those who did—thought they were tasty.  Just a few decades back, few Americans wanted or even knew about sushi.  Today it’s found in all grocery stores. Eating raw fish?  No way—yes way!

Hmm.  Are our behaviors totally “nature” or totally “nurture?”  Maybe some are learned and some genetic, or maybe some are a little of both?

I think of tribal groups around the world (your own ethnic background is included).  All have a name for themselves which translates to something akin to “people” (e.g., mountain, river, rice people, etc.).  All tribes also refer to people from other groups as something else—generally some sort of cut-down (e.g., big bellies, snakes, etc.).  The Nuer tribe in Sudan (Africa) thinks the worst name you could call another of your group is “Dinka” (the name of a neighboring tribe).  If you and I saw a Nuer standing next to a Dinka, we’d say something like “Those are two black guys standing over there.”).  But to a Nuer, those Dinka are 2^nd class citizens.  In short, as a Nuer grows up, they learn that Dinka are “low lifes.”  Biologically, however, the Nuer and Dinka have the same DNA.

A nun taught a class of kindergarteners that people from Central and South America were fleeing to the U.S. because of poverty, war, drugs, and death in their homeland—and that they sought new life here in America (the same story that applied to our ancestors).  After she told the children about these people, she asked: “How many of you think we should help these people find a new home here?”  All hands were raised.

This anecdote is not an advertisement for some partisan border policy. It’s instead a reflection on how the gospel calls us to treat all life forms with compassion.  As you know, people argue about immigration issues until they’re blue in the face—and have trouble getting consensus on anything.  Our concern here is a more fundamental one.  Namely, if Jesus tells us to love one another, we have to ask ourselves “Am I loving people outside my family circle?”  If Jesus says that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, his reference is to us being related to all people in the world.  And “loving” one another isn’t a romantic thing, but rather a conscious commitment to helping others any way we can. “Compassion” is the energizing value that moves us to act on behalf of the common good.  We thus “love” (assist, aid, care about, defend, make safe, etc.) all within the human family.  We DON’T retreat into clannishness or an “us versus them” way of life.

This posture is where the rubber meets the road in our identity as Christians.  It’s no easy identity to maintain—which is why we have to gather as often as we can at the table of the Lord.  We have trouble being a brother or sister in Christ to others.  But just because it’s tough to act this way—doesn’t mean we throw in the towel and just become brutish beasts pushing people aside in service only to ourselves.

The kindergartners showed an inbuilt response of compassion.  These young ones had not yet been tainted by “adult” prejudices against other people.  The children were like the water buffalo, the goose, and dog-doctors.  We adults have become far more selective in choosing to help others in need.  The tortoise and the goat sure appreciated the help they received.

The gospel showed that Jesus had compassion for “the vast crowd” of people who sought his help.  When addressing that crowd—symbolic of us—he could just as well have told them: “Learn from the water buffalo, the goose, licking dogs, and little children.”

Prophet Amos was going about his business when he realized that things around him were just not going as they should.  Israelites were not listening to the wisdom handed down to them, and a religious leader named Amariah was chief among those who were not living as God had called them to live.  Nonetheless, Amariah went after Amos and tried to shut him up.  But Amos simply said that he had no intention of being a prophet—just a man making a living like everyone else.

But he had seen enough.  Leaders like Amariah had sold their souls to the wealthy and were ignoring those in need.  These “autocrats” were running everything and in the process were ignoring those who struggled to make a living.  N.B., To be an “autocrat” means to be a ruler who has absolute power (like Putin of Russia and a trend among some in the U.S. who have been pushing to give power to the office of president—without the “checks and balances” of the legislative and judicial branches of government.  Today’s political landscape has produced the political vision known as the “2025 Project” (a document promoted by an extremely wealthy class of autocrats clothed in the patriotic name “The Heritage Foundation”).

Amariah and Amos represent opposing ethical perspectives that have existed throughout history—siding with the comfortable and wealthy OR siding with the middle and poor classes of citizens.  Christians are called to imitate Amos—not Amariah.

When elections take place, we often hear people say that Americans vote their pocketbooks—basing their vote on what party they THINK will serve their bank accounts.  Social scientists have observed that people often vote AGAINST their self-interest when THINKING a certain person or party represents their pocketbook better than another candidate or party.  Americans are also said to NOT consider “foreign policy” their big attention-getter.  People of goodwill espouse positions on both sides of the divide.

Our Old Testament reading this week reminds us that the competing positions of Amariah and Amos are still alive and well in America.  The call of Jesus to see all people as our brothers and sisters means that “foreign policy” is a secular way of referring to how we are relating to our relatives.  Economic policy is a matter of concern for all Christians.  We are called to take care of less successful people.  We are not called to preserve our wealth, or anything, at the expense of other people.  That’s why greed is a capital sin—a powerful movement within the human mind that stirs an interior spirit that is not the Holy Spirit.

Today’s gospel addresses our financial well-being from a totally different angle.  Namely, we learn that Jesus told his disciples not to take food with them, not bring a change of clothing, and carry no money.  Jesus told them to rely on the kindness of people they’d meet along the way.  Down through the years, his counsel has been taken by many to mean that we Christians should not only live as men and women of modest means, but that it is some sort of spiritual ideal to be destitute and not have any of “the nicer things of life.

This understanding led to the founding of monasteries and people trying to live on alms in exchange for their prayers.  Living the simple life and not flaunting one’s wealth is certainly a part of Christian identity, but this passage is not calling Christians to impose on the generosity of others.  Positively, our Christian witness to living as people of modest means is a challenge to an American culture that fosters what is known as “conspicuous consumption.”  Notice how people fill up their attics and garages, and then have to rent storage space for what goods they’ve accumulated over the years.

Do you or I REALLY need another (fill in the blank)?  Can our funds for low and high-price knick-knacks be better directed at something that helps other people?

In the time of Jesus, and in that part of the world, a premier virtue that is well known in scripture is “hospitality.”  In today’s gospel, Jesus is simply giving his disciples some pragmatic advice.  If this passage had him speaking in today’s language, we’d hear him say: “Hey guys, be sure not to take money or food or a suitcase of belongings with you.  There’s too good a chance that you be mugged, beat up, and robbed.  So just travel light.”

THAT is his simple message in today’s gospel.  He’s not offering a spiritual strategy of living that is to be taught for all ages.  He knew that hospitality is expected in that region of the world, and his guys needed to rely on that cultural behavior.  Whereas we automatically assist relatives who pass our way, hospitality is different.  It is still a Christian virtue that calls us to welcome the stranger.  In the time of Jesus, it was an expected behavior that would serve his disciples when they were traveling.

On this Sunday, the 14^th of July, France is celebrating what it calls “Bastille Day.”  The Bastille was an infamous prison that saw many French people suffer within it—under the leadership of the monarchy and wealthy “autocrats.”  The people rebelled, sent many to the guillotine, and eventually set up that country’s form of democracy.  Today in France, people are happy that they are not ruled by a tyrant who is “owned” by big business and industry.  Happy Bastille Day, France.  It was a French nun and priest who revealed the devotion our parish honors when being called “Sacred Heart.”

This date is also the feast of Kateri Tekakwitha, once well-known as “the lily of the Mohawks.”  Her people were part of a confederacy known to history books as the “Iroquois” but who were a people who called themselves the “Hoe-dee-nuh-show-nee.”  Other tribes within this group were the Cayuga, Oneida, Tuscarora, Seneca, and Onondaga (the same name as the Michigan town outside of Lansing).  They occupied northern New York and southern Quebec.

Kateri’s family was wiped out by smallpox and she was disabled in walking.  Her facial scars from the pox made her self-conscious.  Over time, she got close to the Jesuit priests and became a devout Catholic along with other women of her people.  Upon her death at 23, witnesses claimed that her face lost its marks and became clear—something those present considered miraculous as her final words were “Jesus, I love you.”  Since her death, people visited her burial site, and she was remembered over time as someone who merited sainthood.

That honor came to Kateri on October 12, 2012 when she was canonized by Pope Benedict.  Globally, people are quick to see things or believe things that don’t exist—like the face of Jesus or Mary appearing on a pancake, and then seeing the pancake as a sacred object.  Because we humans are quick to ascribe sainthood to our mothers, grandmothers, and other family members, the Church has been more demanding when acknowledging a claim to saintliness.  Hence a miracle or two are needed as “evidence” of God’s hand at work in the person’s life.

Kateri’s miracle came when a little boy named Jake Finkbonner cut his lip when playing.  An infection set in, and within a short time the family was told his condition was touch and go.  Blest with a relic of Kateri, Jake was healed, an investigation ensued, and the Church recognized a miracle as having taken place.  Now 24 years old, Jake is a college graduate and practicing Catholic.  He claims to have visited heaven while recovering and said that Jesus told him that he couldn’t stay there—but instead had to go home and live out his vocation.

When all of this unfolded, I saw it as another example of “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”  The miraculous healing had not occurred in Europe or Africa but instead took place within a family of American Indian descent.  Moreover, the young boy’s “issue” disfigured his face (as had occurred with Kateri).  Other elements further reinforced this motif of aligning with something out of the ordinary.

Should you care to Google his story, here’s an article from a diocesan newspaper published in 2023.:

https://nwcatholic.org/news/nathan-whalen-b6c48bcc-daf2-4f89-83ed-e8f645f27479/kent-parish-s-parade-float-highlights-its-historic-chapel

This week’s readings bring to mind the role of “prophet” in both scripture and our lives.  The word is used in everyday conversation.  It refers to one who can predict what will take place in the future.  That is, one seems to know what is going to occur at some future date.  This meaning, however, is not how the word is used as a theological term.  Within that realm, it refers to one who, in some way, tells the community what God wants people to do NOW!  In scripture, the content of prophetic voices often upsets people and the people want to kill the prophet.  What’s being said is the truth, but many do not want to hear the truth for some reason.  Maybe this experience is how a saying came about: “The truth hurts.”

In today’s first reading from Ezekiel, we hear him indict the people for being “stiff-necked” and hard-hearted.  He scolds them for not attending to their ethical responsibilities generation after generation.  They had been given laws to live by and leaders to show them how to live, but they ignored this heavenly help—and went their own way.  I couldn’t help but think that Ezekiel could speak to us just as well (which, in fact, he is doing today in scripture).  I was reminded of a 19th-century Jesuit priest who regularly traveled among Indian tribes between St. Louis and the Oregon coast.

Pierre De Smet, S.J. would go on horseback and travel alone among the tribes—visiting with them, teaching them Christianity, baptizing hundreds, and winning the respect and admiration of diverse Native groups.  He reported in his diary that the people traveling west had no concern for the landscape.  He said they left trash everywhere along the way.  Sounding like a 21st-century ecologist, De Smet expressed chagrin that so many had so little respect for Mother Earth’s beauty.

If ever there were a “prophet” in Christian history, it was Paul.  Along with the gospels, his letters (“epistles”) make up most of the New Testament.  They report his experiences in Mediterranean cities, and Corinth was one of those cities that posed a strong challenge.  There he encountered “false apostles.”  These were men whose gift for speaking to crowds could “transform Satan himself into an angel of light.”  These men passed themselves off as insightful and trustworthy, but Paul knew them for what they were—deceivers of the people.  Unfortunately, they were tough opponents, and Paul felt weak when admitting he had a “thorn in the flesh” that made his efforts all the more difficult.

However, Paul said that even his weakness could serve God, and countless generations have followed his example.  In admitting our weakness, we can call upon God all the more for the grace to discover our strength—and apply it to the circumstances that might bring about the changes we want to see take place.  Paul never stated what, exactly, his “thorn” was.  It can be a metaphor that each of us can identify within ourselves.  Namely, each of us struggles with lifting our varied crosses.  But those crosses are not the last word!  Like Paul, we are called to be prophets—even though we have these challenges.  Like Paul, our being a prophet can still take place even though we have one or another metaphorical “thorn.”  Each of us, in some way, can help people identify God’s voice in their lives.

Homilies are supposed to associate scripture’s meaning with contemporary issues, and the presidential debate connects with the topic of “prophet” since candidates were supposed to present their sense of what is “good for America.”  God is the author of “good,” so we should have witnessed a debate that provided us with a vision of the “good” that these men would bring to the country.  Presumably, they would have “prophetic” voices calling us to affirm their vision.  Instead, we hear commentators talk endlessly about whether or not candidates for political offices should not be allowed to run if they are over a certain age.

I think of my good Jesuit friend who died this past December at age 95.  We spoke every 3 or 4 weeks since my coming here.  Jim was a man whose memory was far better than mine and his analytical skill was a gift I wish I had.  At age 95, he had a mind I wish I had—years ago, and not just now.  In short, it has been my experience to see elders who may be sharp-witted and elders who are not—just as there are younger people who are in both categories.  One’s age does not guarantee anything.

This reminded me of yet another topic bandied about in the news—a candidate’s religious practice.  Biden has been a lifelong practicing Catholic and friend of Pope Francis.  Just as when Kennedy was running for office and hoped to win the “Catholic vote,” so do some hope Biden will win that same voting block.  However, Trump has never had a religious practice and so hopes to win the secular block of voters.  One candidate’s “voice” might appeal to one group and their opponent’s voice to another group—so maybe this angle is a “wash” when it comes to enlisting voters.

My sense of the presidential debate was that neither candidate brought people to their feet with applause.  And no, I’m not promoting Robert Kennedy, Jr. as some kind of preferred alternative.  I had a great conversation several years ago with his sister, and she’s the sort of person who’d fit quite well in our parish.  She and the rest of her family are making every effort to see that no one votes for her brother (not because of their history with assassinations but because of his positions on important issues).  The family is not in his political camp and is concerned about his state of mind.

“Debate” has special meaning for me.  As a junior in high school, I was teamed up with a fellow student, and we debated 2 senior girls the topic: “Is teenage conformity good or bad?”  This event was a big one for us high school kids.  The student body assembled in the gymnasium, and the 4 of us addressed the topic for an hour on Detroit radio.  My brother tape-recorded the debate, and I have that recording on a cassette.  When I look at that cassette, I am reminded of my performance that day.  It taught me that I have little, if any, ability to think on my feet and debate a topic—even a topic that I fully understand and support.

Several years ago, I was asked to speak at DePaul University in Chicago.  I was happy to do so and made travel plans.  However, when I learned that there would be two others in attendance who might represent perspectives in conflict with my own, I knew this would not be a good experience. I did not think a debate forum would be appropriate and bowed out of the event.  I had zero confidence in arguing points with any person face-to-face. When I bowed out of the occasion, my exit did not endear me to the DePaul organizers.

Prophetic voices take place on much smaller stages in life.  Candidates for political office live in their world, university folk in theirs, and we ”ordinary folk” appear onstage and live—in our homes and gardens and churches.  Where is there a need for prophetic voices in these unimposing venues?  Here’s one.

Each year on July 4^th, there is a “hot dog eating contest” sponsored by Nathan’s Hot Dogs of New York.  The event attracted 35,000 people and is an international commercial designed to sell Nathan’s hot dogs.  People in attendance have a good time and bring business to Coney Island (where it is held).  This year’s winning male ate 58 hot dogs and the winning female ate 51.  Elsewhere, 100 million people are starving in different countries around the world.

We in the U.S. can normalize the massive waste of food at this event because we have “normalized” destructive behaviors. Centuries ago, our ancestors in the Roman Coliseum had a good time watching a different kind of dining.  They watched lions tear apart Christian men, women, and children—all in the name of enjoying a nice afternoon of entertainment.  These behaviors are joined by many others that have become commonplace—such as being entertained by having wild bears, lions, tigers, and other sensate beings put in close proximity to one another so that they fight to the death—all for the entertainment of wealthy individuals with no conscience to reign in their blood-lust.

Were you to speak with any of these people who are involved with hot dog gluttony, the Coliseum massacres, or animal torture—what would your “prophetic voice” be for them?  Do you ever see other behaviors in America that have become “normalized” and that have dulled the sense of people toward one another or the creation we share with all life forms?  “Civility” (aka “Christian charity”) has taken a back seat to name-calling and posters on cars and front lawns broadcasting the slang “F” word referring to political leaders.  These are affronts to Christian behavior that even Christians employ.

I’m reminded of contemporary Poland having laws against such things as people intentionally destroying a bird’s nest that has young within it.  We can learn from Poland to respect life’s diversity.  A prophetic voice needs to be heard in all realms of life.

The Supreme Court shocked 99% of the legal profession and most Americans when it recently ruled that an American president cannot be charged with crimes when doing “official” business.  From grade school on, Americans have been taught that no one is above the law—but this Court upended history and made this tragic ruling.  I’m reminded of hearing years ago the following argument.  A man who was running for public office was said to be “blind” to the challenges of the common person in America.  A representative of the candidate replied: “Who better to lead the blind than another blind person?”

In this instance, scripture was twisted upside down to endorse the candidate.  The answer to the question—in case you didn’t know—was that “Whoever leads the blind sure better NOT be blind!”  But the spin-meister for the candidate was passing off a deficiency as a virtue—trying to confuse listeners into associating the candidate with compassion and knowledge (which the candidate did not have).  Even the devil can quote scripture.

Also in this week’s news is the story of someone who was SUPPOSED to speak with a prophetic voice doing the exact opposite.  Archbishop Vigano was EXCOMMUNICATED from the Church.  He had been the Vatican representative to the U.S.—a plum job for clergy wanting positions of high status.  The Archbishop was found guilty of creating schism in the Church by trying to lead a revolt against the implementation of Vatican II and the leadership of Pope Francis.  He thought the Vatican Council was a major mistake perpetrated by Pope Saint John XXIII.

This Archbishop has tried to influence other clergy and laypeople to think as he did.  He argued that Vatican II was fraudulent—just as some have thought that our 2020 election was fraudulent.  In both cases, their claims were without merit, but both cases still have their supporters.  Sadly, the Archbishop’s issues have not persuaded him to be more conciliatory.  He continues to call the Pope by his birth name (Bergoglio) and is defiant in his effort to exercise authority.  He likely thinks he is speaking a prophetic voice, but his issues are not easy to associate with what Jesus would presumably say.

And this is the challenge of our being a prophetic voice.  We are challenged to discern if what we say is what God would want us to say—or are we simply expressing our opinion on one or another matter?  Clergy from all denominations and religious communities struggle with (or avoid) the call to be prophetic—for fear of alienating their congregations, or seeing their collection baskets gather dust.  Laypeople likewise struggle when realizing their family members or friends will carry a grudge or ignore them for offering Gospel-based thinking.

Paul seems to have become adept at dealing with people who gave him a rough time (almost killing him on occasion).  He somehow managed to speak prophetic words to people who eventually had a “conversion experience” and who began to see life issues through the lens of the Gospel.  Through the graces acquired in his practice of the faith, he was able to cope with the “thorns” that challenged his efforts.  May our practice of the faith help us do the same.

How on earth can the story of a woman suffering from hemorrhages for 12 years be related to our lives?  No problem!  How so?  Did you notice that the scene was described as overflowing with people—a rock-concern-like crowd following Jesus?  The woman thinks to herself that if only she touched the cloak of Jesus, her condition might improve.  She touches him, and Jesus feels her touch—and asks the disciples “Who touched me?”  They, of course, don’t know who he’s referring to because all sorts of people are brushing up against him and them.  But Jesus notices her—and speaks to her.

Imagine looking at a photo—of Jesus in a large crowd speaking face to face with an individual—and now put your face on that individual.  Such is the message of this incident.  You and I are not lost in the crowd of 7 billion people who inhabit the earth.  You are special, and you have a special role within the community.  Your presence is felt by the Lord, and his message to her is one of welcome—saying that her ritual impurity that alienated her from Temple presence and the community—is non-existent.  He is welcoming her back, or integrating her into the community.

And so it is with each of us.  We have our “impurities” that aren’t the same as those besetting the woman and her bleeding condition.  But each of us feels alienation from others—either self-imposed or imposed upon us.  As ever, our identity is supposed to reflect what Jesus taught—and so a part of our Gospel presence is that we extend hospitality and be a person who welcomes others into community.  This is our calling as Christians.

On this topic of our vocation, the Diocese had its quarterly meeting of priests, and once again concluded the meeting with 3 of the clergy telling their vocation story.  Bishop Gruss and his brother bishops are trying their best to encourage vocations, and we experienced his outreach on this topic when he visited us and presided at a “holy hour” prayer service.

In light of today’s gospel passage and the theme of vocation, I will report some elements of my experience enroute to being a Jesuit.  Telling our story has been encouraged in the hope that our people in the pews might receive some seeds of thought that take root in their heart on this topic of “vocation.”  After all, each person here today—if they take their faith seriously—is here because they are asking God to help them further clarify the role they are to place as people of the Way.

Vocation is not just a word associated with priests, brothers, and nuns, but is a word associated with our core identity.  If you think that you’ve lived your life and have fulfilled your purpose in life—you’re wrong!!!  You and I are not finished discovering what God calls us to be, to say, and to do—until we’re called to eternity.  As the image of last week’s gospel pictures us—we’re all in this together—like passengers in a boat on sometimes turbulent waters.

The priests who told of their vocation presented different experiences they had which moved them to pursue the priesthood.  Our own TJ Fleming wonderfully told of his never regretting his response to God’s call.  Another priest told of how instrumental his parents were in fostering his vocation, I smiled in recalling my parents having little influence other than to affirm whatever “good” path I ever pondered—priesthood just being one such good path.

Overall, the priestly biographies tell of God speaking to each person individually—just like the woman in the crowd.  She had her problems, and so do each of us.  But God still calls us—into community as a vital presence supporting others.

When I think of “moments” in life that were influential, I think of many.  Seeing films like “Joan of Arc,” “Bells of St. Mary’s,” “The Keys of the Kingdom,” “Barabbas,” and others were seeds of inspiration to a young kid who became me.  Mom giving me the book “St. Francis of the Seven Seas” was also influential.  I got it on my Confirmation day in the 4^th grade.  It was the life of St. Francis Xavier, an early Jesuit and patron saint of Missionaries.  In high school, I read a book about life in the Jesuit Order titled “I’ll Die Laughing.”  This book humanized the images of “priest” and religion that were often spiritually intimidating.  These Jesuits seemed to have a “riot” when not functioning formally in their many roles.

It’s not holy-holy experiences that alone motivate us to discover what God wants us to do.  Sometimes painful experiences move us to search for what Ignatius calls “the more” that might satisfy our hunger.  Priests at my parish growing up were not always inspirational.  They were sometimes not people I cared to be near.  Others were good–like one who was assigned to my high school for his first priestly assignment—a man who would one day be Bishop Ken Untener.

A challenge experienced by many when considering priesthood was the idea of “falling in love.”  How could I lose my heart to someone and serve in a Church that forbade a married clergy (since the 12^th century)?  And just when I had to make up my mind about entering the Jesuits, a darling girl captured my heart senior year.  How could I leave her warm presence for the cold atmosphere of a Jesuit novitiate (place where “novices” begin training)?

Today’s gospel referred to “fear and trembling,” and those words described my body and soul on entrance day.  I joined 21 other guys—none of whom I knew—and admitted to them in a group “sharing” session that “I don’t know how long I’ll be here because I don’t know if God wants me here or not.”  No sooner did I say that than a second-year novice said “Mike, try to be more positive and avoid negative statements.”  Strike one!

Initially feeling out of place, I overcame the fear and trembling and ended up being the only one to remain in the Order out of those 22 who entered that day.  Befriending a second-year novice, we shared our backgrounds with one another, played ball, did studies, and had a fine friendship until the day he informed me that he was leaving the Order.  At the time, I thought I’d never see him again, but circumstances unfolded such that he married that darling girl who owned my heart senior year.  I must have painted such a good portrait of her—that he was not averse to seeking a relationship.  They married one another, produced fine kids, and the 3 of us remain warm friends.

I think back to the emotional hit of leaving her behind and thinking of her every day in novitiate—and just laugh and roll my eyes.  All that needless emotional output!!  Jesus said to the woman “Your faith has saved you”—and so it was with me.  Staying on track despite the challenge—eventually produced the best results for both them and me.

As a sophomore in high school, I was reprimanded by a nun who asked me to make up for my mistakes by attending a Legion of Mary meeting.  This group was not a “cool” crowd, and I was the only boy in attendance.  They prayed the rosary and reported what service work they had done since the last meeting.  At the meeting’s end, the nun said “You’re coming to next week’s meeting, Michael, aren’t you?”  What was I to say?

As I’ve reported in the past, “God writes straight in crooked lines.”  I was asked to teach summer bible school at an inner city parish in Detroit—and once again I didn’t know how to say “No thanks.”  Teaching first and second-grade Black kids was a joy.  I love them, and I turned out to be a White guy they could appreciate.  I did that for 3 summers, and I think the roots of my role as a teacher were sewn at that time.

My membership in the Legion of Mary ended on a humorous note.  I was asked to a public school prom by a girl I met at a party.  She asked if I’d be her prom date, and I agreed.  After the prom, we accompanied another couple who became amorous—me in the back seat with my date.  Feeling uncomfortable in the back seat conversing while the other couple did not converse, I told my date that I had to get up early the next morning because I had to go downtown to attend a Legion of Mary meeting.  I never saw these 3 people again.  2 months later, I entered the Jesuits.

When I visited with 3 former Jesuits with whom I was in studies, I thought of what great guys they were during my early years in the Order.  They’re still great guys today—making their contribution to the world via other vocations.  I stayed and they left.  As with every life, mine had challenges.  But whatever might be considered worthwhile accomplishments—were attributable to asking God for the same guidance that each one here at Mass asks of God. May we be open to laboring in new landscapes in which to live our vocation.

Acronyms are popular, and the word “bible” appropriately serves as an acronym that defines what this “good book” is!  The Bible provides us with “basic information before leaving earth.”  This week’s readings are good examples of how this is so.  We have some very important knowledge—relevant to each of us—conveyed in the Genesis reading and the Gospel.

Remember that for centuries it was thought by many that Moses wrote the first 5 books of the Bible.  Some might still hold this belief, but scholars say otherwise.  Genesis, for example, is a book of many stories that were no doubt part of a people’s oral tradition.  Over time, unknown editors compiled the text we know today.

As with all cultures, this Israelite literature contained “etiological tales” (stories that told of how things came to be).  Among other things, today’s story explains why we wear clothing (or rather, why the ancient ISRAELITES thought people wore clothing; or, perhaps this part of the narrative was a child’s story.  That is, maybe elders told their inquisitive children when asked “Why do we have clothing and not walk around naked?”  In this instance, the misbehavior of Adam and Eve accounts for why we wear clothing.  Recall that pain at childbirth, death, and having to toil to survive are also part of this origin story.

A misconception that has been around for 2000 years is that the serpent in the story was the devil.  If this has been your understanding (and I suspect it might very well be)—forget it.  Regarding the serpent as “the devil” has never been the teaching of this Israelite origin story.  Equating the devil with the serpent did not come about until the time of Jesus—centuries after the Genesis story was committed to paper (or rather, papyrus, or animal skins used for writing on scrolls).  It was a first-century writing, The Life of Adam and Eve, that the snake-as-devil slithered into our consciousness.  And ever since, generations of teachers misled their listeners.

An engaging topic is determining when the idea of “devil” even arose within the Bible.  Too broad a topic to address here, just keep this in mind.  What Christians tend to call the “Old Testament” (and what scholars and Jewish people call the “Hebrew scriptures”), did not have what we think of as “devils.”  In the Hebrew scriptures, God contends with, does battle with, or repeatedly gets frustrated by HUMANS (not legions of devils).  The Israelites might have become known as God’s “chosen people” through whom God’s identity would be known—but the Creator often thought of “throwing in the towel” on this human race!  It was WE who were a pain in God’s heart—not the persuasive serpent.

History has given us devil names such as Satan, Lucifer, and Pazuzu (the demon of the film The Exorcist), but today’s Gospel cites the name “Beelzabub.”  If you’re abreast of the music and cinema worlds, you know that name from a wildly popular rock hit sung by a band named “Queen.”  Its lead singer was Freddie Mercury—an AIDS victim whose life was portrayed in the film Bohemian Rhapsody (the name of a Queen’s song—a verse of which refers to today’s Gospel demon-figure “Beelzebub”). The song was in the popular film Wayne’s World (1992), but 2 of Queen’s other hits are We Will Rock You and We Are the Champions (both songs often associated with sporting events).

Listeners of Bohemian Rhapsody can identify with the lyric that says: “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.” THAT is the Adam and Eve-like experience one gets when confronted with temptation.  One feels powerless to resist because there is a force specially programmed to work on their weakness or vulnerability.  Listeners should, however, not just nod in agreement with what the rock song asserts.  Instead of feeling they are incapable of being victimized by their own “fallen human nature,” one should take heart in knowing that the Adam & Eve story is reminding us of vulnerability—yes—but that we have the power to resist temptation.  It’s our choice (just as it was for Adam).

If the word “Satan” is used in scripture or rock music or by people on the street, its meaning should be associated with a kind of prosecuting attorney.  Translated as “accuser,” satan is one who shows us where we’ve gone astray.  The Persian (Persia is Iran today) religion of Zoroastrianism is laden with good and bad angels, and it was this religion that eventually came to influence the thought of Israelites from the 3rd century B.C. onward (N.B.., Freddie Mercury, mentioned above, was a Zoroastrian).   Before this influence, Old Testament books were not filled with references to angels or devils.  Eventually, however, Christianity adopted the concept while Islam asserted that each person has 2 angels—one to record your good deeds and one to record your bad deeds—to be shown at the final judgment.  Belief in angels is, moreover, a dogma of Islam (whereas Christians commonly believe in angels but are not obliged to accept their reality).

The New Testament speaks of one being thrown into “fiery Gehenna,” but the reference here is not to the fires of hell but to a smoldering garbage dump near Jerusalem.  Nonetheless, images of “Satan” presiding over a fiery hell have been our inheritance in popular religion.

Scholars tend to think of Satan’s “kingdom” as not a place of torment but a place of bondage due to acts of unrighteousness.

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre wrote the play No Exit which presents a similar notion of eternal condemnation.  Characters in the play are Garcin (a man interested in character #2, Inez).   However, Inez is a lesbian and is interested in character #3, Estelle (not interested in Inez but preoccupied with looking into a mirror).  A fourth character in the play is a valet who erratically responds to a bell that is rung to call him.  The setting of the three people is in a room with “no exit” and furnished with couches to sit on.  These people come to realize that they are dead—and the play consists of them in dialogue.  For the length of the script, these characters frustrate, depress, annoy, irritate, and upset one another.  The play concludes with the man, after a few moments of silence,  say to the others: “Well, well, let’s get on with it.”

Playgoers are left to ponder what “life” would be like if it consisted only of frustration, depression, annoyances, irritations, and being chronically off-balance or upset.  This is your state of being–for all eternity . . . .

Philosopher Sartre might leave us with this grim sense of the future, but getting back to our reading from Genesis—shows us where the “exit” CAN be found.

Notice that when God asked Eve about eating the fruit–that no specific fruit is mentioned in Genesis.  Folklore has us refer to an “apple” that they ate—not the Bible.  Notice, too, that Eve tries to escape responsibility by pointing to a snake as the real culprit.  Because of that nasty creature, she argue for compassion since that darn serpent was so persuasive.  It took advantage of her! Adam is no better in the excuse department.  He, too, pleads for clemency by pointing to his wife as being the one REALLY responsible for the act he committed.

Now recall what I regularly mention about our use of scripture—and how I started off this week’s reflections here about “basic information” we need to have before we step into eternity.  What we need to know is that you and I are Adam and Eve—and every other character in scripture at different moments in our life.  You and I have a tendency to “pass the buck,” “make an excuse,” “blame someone else,” “call elections corrupt,” and complain that “verdicts are fraudulent.”  Be it examples on the national stage or the stage of our lives, we are quite capable of making bad decisions and trying to escape the consequences of our behavior.

We tend to see the Genesis story as a downer account of losing the garden of Paradise and being pawns in the hands of powerful forces that we cannot resist.  Au contraire!  The story of Adam and Eve is telling us to BE AWARE of our tendency to make self-serving decision.  The story is asking us: “Do you want to make mistakes like this one?”  And of course, our answer is that we DON’T want to mess things up as Adam and Eve did.  The story tells us that we are NOT pawns who are helpless in resisting the various venoms that bring us some kind of death or gloom.

The story is as much a story of how to find success as it is a story of how to mess up your life.  Which leads into a reflection on the gospel.

There’s a folktale told in different cultures around the world that tells of how God made humans.  Without embellishment, here’s the basic plot: God decided to create the human race and so he formed them from dough and put them in the oven to bake.  Pulling them out too soon, he produced white people.  Leaving them in too long, he produced black people, leaving the next batch in not long enough, he created yellow people.  Finally, however, God timed it perfectly.  The humans were a beautiful tan color from head to toe—and that is how we Navaho came into being.

This version is from the southwest U.S..  However, this same plot is found in cultures that are white, black, and yellow—only the end result shows the Creator “getting it right” when making beautiful black, or yellow, red or white humans.  It appears to be normative globally for cultures to depict their origin as being “just what the doctor ordered.”  Black, white, red, or yellow—each group having their story report them being the “best” people.  Not surprising is that European scholars of the 19th century, thinking they were objective in their science of human origins—tended to rank human populations in order of “who are the smartest people?”  Ta da!  White Europeans was their conclusion (a conclusion now much debunked and no longer regarded as scientifically based).

Before the science of genetics in the 20th century, scholars and laity speculated on human origins and diversity.  Around 1775, the word “Caucasian” was introduced and became part of the English vernacular.  It referred to “white” people and was principally applied to Europeans (although it originally included many other geographical regions of people).  Today, the word is not used within scholarly communities.  In short, all humans belong to one “race,” and this reality makes use of “racial categories” obsolete.

This is important not just on some socio-political level, but it can even be said to have grounding in the New Testament, e.g., TODAY’s Gospel!!  Revisiting that reading, we hear Jesus say: Who are my mother, brothers, and sisters?  And he answers his question by saying they those who do the will of God!  2000 years ago Jesus asserted what science now tells us—that the human race is one family.  Just as persons in your family look different from one another, so do all the peoples in the world look different from one another.  Apart from this skin-deep appearance, we are all brothers and sisters.  And Jesus informs us that God is our loving parent—who brought each of us into the world for a reason—with a special vocation to accomplish what no one else can replicate.

If we acquire a certain kind of basic information before leaving earth, we will be best able to learn how to live the identity that makes each of us distinctive—as designed by our Creator.

Acronyms are popular, and the word “bible” appropriately serves as an acronym that defines what this “good book” is!  The Bible provides us with “basic information before leaving earth.”  This week’s readings are good examples of how this is so.  We have some very important knowledge—relevant to each of us—conveyed in the Genesis reading and the Gospel.

Remember that for centuries it was thought by many that Moses wrote the first 5 books of the Bible.  Some might still hold this belief, but scholars say otherwise.  Genesis, for example, is a book of many stories that were no doubt part of a people’s oral tradition.  Over time, unknown editors compiled the text we know today.

As with all cultures, this Israelite literature contained “etiological tales” (stories that told of how things came to be).  Among other things, today’s story explains why we wear clothing (or rather, why the ancient ISRAELITES thought people wore clothing; or, perhaps this part of the narrative was a child’s story.  That is, maybe elders told their inquisitive children when asked “Why do we have clothing and not walk around naked?”  In this instance, the misbehavior of Adam and Eve accounts for why we wear clothing.  Recall that pain at childbirth, death, and having to toil to survive are also part of this origin story.

A misconception that has been around for 2000 years is that the serpent in the story was the devil.  If this has been your understanding (and I suspect it might very well be)—forget it.  Regarding the serpent as “the devil” has never been the teaching of this Israelite origin story.  Equating the devil with the serpent did not come about until the time of Jesus—centuries after the Genesis story was committed to paper (or rather, papyrus, or animal skins used for writing on scrolls).  It was a first-century writing, The Life of Adam and Eve, that the snake-as-devil slithered into our consciousness.  And ever since, generations of teachers misled their listeners.

An engaging topic is determining when the idea of “devil” even arose within the Bible.  Too broad a topic to address here, just keep this in mind.  What Christians tend to call the “Old Testament” (and what scholars and Jewish people call the “Hebrew scriptures”), did not have what we think of as “devils.”  In the Hebrew scriptures, God contends with, does battle with, or repeatedly gets frustrated by HUMANS (not legions of devils).  The Israelites might have become known as God’s “chosen people” through whom God’s identity would be known—but the Creator often thought of “throwing in the towel” on this human race!  It was WE who were a pain in God’s heart—not the persuasive serpent.

History has given us devil names such as Satan, Lucifer, and Pazuzu (the demon of the film The Exorcist), but today’s Gospel cites the name “Beelzabub.”  If you’re abreast of the music and cinema worlds, you know that name from a wildly popular rock hit sung by a band named “Queen.”  Its lead singer was Freddie Mercury—an AIDS victim whose life was portrayed in the film Bohemian Rhapsody (the name of a Queen’s song—a verse of which refers to today’s Gospel demon-figure “Beelzebub”). The song was in the popular film Wayne’s World (1992), but 2 of Queen’s other hits are We Will Rock You and We Are the Champions (both songs often associated with sporting events).

Listeners of Bohemian Rhapsody can identify with the lyric that says: “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.” THAT is the Adam and Eve-like experience one gets when confronted with temptation.  One feels powerless to resist because there is a force specially programmed to work on their weakness or vulnerability.  Listeners should, however, not just nod in agreement with what the rock song asserts.  Instead of feeling they are incapable of being victimized by their own “fallen human nature,” one should take heart in knowing that the Adam & Eve story is reminding us of vulnerability—yes—but that we have the power to resist temptation.  It’s our choice (just as it was for Adam).

If the word “Satan” is used in scripture or rock music or by people on the street, its meaning should be associated with a kind of prosecuting attorney.  Translated as “accuser,” satan is one who shows us where we’ve gone astray.  The Persian (Persia is Iran today) religion of Zoroastrianism is laden with good and bad angels, and it was this religion that eventually came to influence the thought of Israelites from the 3rd century B.C. onward (N.B.., Freddie Mercury, mentioned above, was a Zoroastrian).   Before this influence, Old Testament books were not filled with references to angels or devils.  Eventually, however, Christianity adopted the concept while Islam asserted that each person has 2 angels—one to record your good deeds and one to record your bad deeds—to be shown at the final judgment.  Belief in angels is, moreover, a dogma of Islam (whereas Christians commonly believe in angels but are not obliged to accept their reality).

The New Testament speaks of one being thrown into “fiery Gehenna,” but the reference here is not to the fires of hell but to a smoldering garbage dump near Jerusalem.  Nonetheless, images of “Satan” presiding over a fiery hell have been our inheritance in popular religion.

Scholars tend to think of Satan’s “kingdom” as not a place of torment but a place of bondage due to acts of unrighteousness.

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre wrote the play No Exit which presents a similar notion of eternal condemnation.  Characters in the play are Garcin (a man interested in character #2, Inez).   However, Inez is a lesbian and is interested in character #3, Estelle (not interested in Inez but preoccupied with looking into a mirror).  A fourth character in the play is a valet who erratically responds to a bell that is rung to call him.  The setting of the three people is in a room with “no exit” and furnished with couches to sit on.  These people come to realize that they are dead—and the play consists of them in dialogue.  For the length of the script, these characters frustrate, depress, annoy, irritate, and upset one another.  The play concludes with the man, after a few moments of silence,  say to the others: “Well, well, let’s get on with it.”

Playgoers are left to ponder what “life” would be like if it consisted only of frustration, depression, annoyances, irritations, and being chronically off-balance or upset.  This is your state of being–for all eternity . . . .

Philosopher Sartre might leave us with this grim sense of the future, but getting back to our reading from Genesis—shows us where the “exit” CAN be found.

Notice that when God asked Eve about eating the fruit–that no specific fruit is mentioned in Genesis.  Folklore has us refer to an “apple” that they ate—not the Bible.  Notice, too, that Eve tries to escape responsibility by pointing to a snake as the real culprit.  Because of that nasty creature, she argue for compassion since that darn serpent was so persuasive.  It took advantage of her! Adam is no better in the excuse department.  He, too, pleads for clemency by pointing to his wife as being the one REALLY responsible for the act he committed.

Now recall what I regularly mention about our use of scripture—and how I started off this week’s reflections here about “basic information” we need to have before we step into eternity.  What we need to know is that you and I are Adam and Eve—and every other character in scripture at different moments in our life.  You and I have a tendency to “pass the buck,” “make an excuse,” “blame someone else,” “call elections corrupt,” and complain that “verdicts are fraudulent.”  Be it examples on the national stage or the stage of our lives, we are quite capable of making bad decisions and trying to escape the consequences of our behavior.

We tend to see the Genesis story as a downer account of losing the garden of Paradise and being pawns in the hands of powerful forces that we cannot resist.  Au contraire!  The story of Adam and Eve is telling us to BE AWARE of our tendency to make self-serving decision.  The story is asking us: “Do you want to make mistakes like this one?”  And of course, our answer is that we DON’T want to mess things up as Adam and Eve did.  The story tells us that we are NOT pawns who are helpless in resisting the various venoms that bring us some kind of death or gloom.

The story is as much a story of how to find success as it is a story of how to mess up your life.  Which leads into a reflection on the gospel.

There’s a folktale told in different cultures around the world that tells of how God made humans.  Without embellishment, here’s the basic plot: God decided to create the human race and so he formed them from dough and put them in the oven to bake.  Pulling them out too soon, he produced white people.  Leaving them in too long, he produced black people, leaving the next batch in not long enough, he created yellow people.  Finally, however, God timed it perfectly.  The humans were a beautiful tan color from head to toe—and that is how we Navaho came into being.

This version is from the southwest U.S..  However, this same plot is found in cultures that are white, black, and yellow—only the end result shows the Creator “getting it right” when making beautiful black, or yellow, red or white humans.  It appears to be normative globally for cultures to depict their origin as being “just what the doctor ordered.”  Black, white, red, or yellow—each group having their story report them being the “best” people.  Not surprising is that European scholars of the 19th century, thinking they were objective in their science of human origins—tended to rank human populations in order of “who are the smartest people?”  Ta da!  White Europeans was their conclusion (a conclusion now much debunked and no longer regarded as scientifically based).

Before the science of genetics in the 20th century, scholars and laity speculated on human origins and diversity.  Around 1775, the word “Caucasian” was introduced and became part of the English vernacular.  It referred to “white” people and was principally applied to Europeans (although it originally included many other geographical regions of people).  Today, the word is not used within scholarly communities.  In short, all humans belong to one “race,” and this reality makes use of “racial categories” obsolete.

This is important not just on some socio-political level, but it can even be said to have grounding in the New Testament, e.g., TODAY’s Gospel!!  Revisiting that reading, we hear Jesus say: Who are my mother, brothers, and sisters?  And he answers his question by saying they those who do the will of God!  2000 years ago Jesus asserted what science now tells us—that the human race is one family.  Just as persons in your family look different from one another, so do all the peoples in the world look different from one another.  Apart from this skin-deep appearance, we are all brothers and sisters.  And Jesus informs us that God is our loving parent—who brought each of us into the world for a reason—with a special vocation to accomplish what no one else can replicate.

If we acquire a certain kind of basic information before leaving earth, we will be best able to learn how to live the identity that makes each of us distinctive—as designed by our Creator.

New to the Red Cloud Indian School, I told the high school boys that it was time for dinner.  One of them said: “We already had dinner.  We’re going to supper.”  That’s when I learned that some people only know the word “dinner” as applicable to the noon meal.  They’d refer to the evening meal as ”supper.”  My use of the word “dinner” for the evening meal was foreign to their experience.  Raised in Detroit, I knew the word “supper” was used by some people, but my family simply used the well-worn terms of breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  However, the Lakota holy-man, Black Elk, said that his people traditionally did not eat in the middle of the day.  They ate only in the morning and evening when he grew up on the plains in the 1800s.

Dining habits come to mind because this weekend is “Corpus Christi Sunday.”  “Body of Christ” Sunday calls us once again to reflect on the gift we have in the sacrament of the Eucharist.  Readings for Mass address this special sacrament that we honor on Holy Thursday each year.  So let’s first get a handle on dining customs within Israelite culture at the time of Jesus.

Because Matthew, Mark, and Luke share perspectives on many of the same incidents in the life of Jesus, their gospels are called the “synoptic gospels”—a way of noting that they share much in common with one another.  Each, for example, speak of “the Last Supper” as a “Passover” meal (which Jewish people still practice when Christians are celebrating “Holy Week” services.  Interestingly, John does NOT refer to the Last Supper as a Passover meal but as one that took place the day before Passover.

Debate has not settled when, exactly, the “First Supper” of the Eucharist took place.  Some scholars say that our gospel account is simply asserting that the sacrament came into being at SOME unknown date that was GROUNDED in the theology of the Passover and Eucharist.  The Synoptics are at odds with John—but their theological POINT is more important than on what actual date something occurred.  That point is the Eucharist flowing out of Israelites tradition reported in the Hebrew scriptures.  Jesus is the new Passover lamb.

In this week’s gospel, Mark rightly notes that 2 of the disciples went and prepared the Passover meal.  Contemporary readers of this passage assume that nothing of note is being reported in what Mark says about meal preparation.  However, there IS a technical point being made.  Namely, when feast days were being celebrated, it was men who prepared the meal.  In everyday life, it was an older woman/widow who would prepare the evening meal for men and boys (12 and over).  They would eat first—followed later by women and girls.  Mark’s report thus corresponds with the customs of the day.  What appears to be a minor observation (that men prepared the meal) actually affirms the accuracy of Mark’s account.

A term sometimes used by anthropologists to refer to households is “commensal unit.”  It refers to the group of people who eat meals together each day.  Such a group shares common values and is bonded by ties of blood, labor, religion, friendship, etc.  The departure of Judas is his self-imposed excommunication from the group.

The first reading reported how Moses came down from the mountain and brought with him the Torah—the teaching that God revealed to him.  The people were told that God’s word in the Torah should be how they, as a people, should live their lives.  And as done throughout the Bible (and in other cultural traditions) an animal (i.e., a lamb) was slain as an offering.  Keep in mind that the ritual shedding of blood was the people’s way of symbolizing their own self-sacrifice—as death is the most solemn testimony to one’s commitment.  The people said they would commit themselves to these teachings, and when Moses sprinkled blood on the people, this represented their union with the slain lamb—which they then consumed. Slaughter of animals in the Temple or elsewhere was a re-enactment of their pledge of faith.  Each year at Passover, the historical event of being liberated from Egypt was commemorated, and this MADE PRESENT that saving action once again.

Cultures have what are known as “remembrance ceremonies” in which events of the past are “made present” through the ritual re-enactment of what took place.  Christians sprinkle with holy water in remembrance of the Israelites committing themselves to observing what the Torah taught, and when Jesus gave bread and wine as his body and blood at a meal with his disciples—becoming the new “lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”  The ritual slaughter has been replaced by bread which likewise replaces the “manna” in the Israelite desert  And the sprinkled blood can at any time be replaced by the sprinkling of water that reminds Christians of their baptism and THEIR willingness to observe the NEW Torah  that the gospels teach.

And what DOES the gospel Torah teach?  Summarized, we can think of the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. When we come to communion expressing our need for the nourishment of the new lamb and new manna—we ask God to inspire us to incarnate these works of mercy: To feed the hungry, To give water to the thirsty, To clothe the naked, To shelter the homeless., To visit the sick, To visit the imprisoned, To bury the dead, To instruct the ignorant, To counsel the doubtful, To admonish the sinners, To be patient with those who wrong us, To forgive offenses, To comfort the afflicted, To afflict the comfortable, To pray for the living and the dead.

All of these works of mercy are either explicitly or implicitly stated in the gospels, e.g., Matthew 25.  They don’t exhaust biblical teachings, but they are a good starting point for prayerful reflection.  Moreover, avoid the temptation to think simply that these “works” call us to “be a nice person.”  They extend into our socio-political life and so, often enough, make Christians unwelcome.  For example, to give someone a drink of water is a kind act.  However, what do you do when a corporation dumps poisonous chemicals into lakes, streams, rivers, and oceans?  Eventually, you’ll have no clean water to offer anyone.

The works of mercy, if practiced, can bring one into conflict with forces that are profiting in some way from the plight of people.  One’s Christian identity calls us to resist those forces.  For example, diabetics in other countries were able to acquire insulin while the richest country in the world made insulin hard to get for those who couldn’t afford it.  Pharmaceutical companies influence politicians, so there’s little political will to bring down the prices of medication.  Thankfully, the price of insulin is now manageable due to pressure from the White House.  Meanwhile, a medication that people can get in England for 35 dollars is available to me for 1000 dollars.  Arguments are made to explain why American prices are “legitimately” high—but those arguments boil down to massive amounts of wealth controlling the issues—at the expense of YOU and millions of others.

“The United States experiences the worst health outcomes overall of any high-income nation. Americans are more likely to die younger, and from avoidable causes, than residents of peer countries.”  In light of this World Health Organization FACT, you can see why the works of mercy are sure needed right here in our home country.  They will be resisted by forces that seek to continue acquiring vast wealth at your expense.  One’s religious practice has “real-world” consequences.

Last week, our presence at Mass was compared to seeking shelter from the shrapnel of life that comes flying at us from all directions.  Our presence in this sacred foxhole allows us time to reflect and see how our life role can bring peace to the battlefield to which we’ll return.  Our presence back into the fray is needed. As St. Ignatius said, we are called to serve the Lord, to fight and not heed the wounds, to labor and not seek for rest, to toil and not ask for any reward except we know we’re doing God’s will.