October 27, 2024

Picture this: you walk into the place of worship and see a sanctuary where there is a Tabernacle.  You also see a sanctuary lamp/light near the Tabernacle.  What is this place?  Answer: Catholics might say they’re in a Catholic church.  A Jewish person might say they’re in a synagogue.  They both could be right.  Both respondents might also be describing the Temple in Jerusalem at the time of Jesus.  It was the central, sacred place of worship for Israelites.

This group of people was divided into 12 tribes who later became the people we know as our cousins in the faith—Jewish people (who practice “Judaism”).  This latter term comes from the name of one of these 12 tribes, the tribe of “Judah” (and so, Judaism).  Priests among these people came from one of those 12 tribes—the tribe of Levi.  If you meet someone whose name is “Cohen,” they might be Jewish and might have a genealogy to this tribe—as the word cohen (in Hebrew) means “priest.”

A religious-political party within Judaism in the first century was that of the Sadducees.  They were priests, and this group appointed one of their number the “high priest.”  Among his responsibilities was entering the “holy of holies” part of the sanctuary—that area restricted to him alone.  He was in that sacred spot that represented Heaven, and his job entailed joining that realm to Earth—which was represented by the rest of the sanctuary.  He was, thus, a bridge between heaven and earth.

Today’s reading from Hebrews is the ONLY New Testament reference to Jesus as a priest.  He was, in the end, a layman! But as the Temple High Priest symbolized, so Jesus became the “bridge” connecting heaven with earth.  THAT’S why the Letter to the Hebrews makes the claim of Jesus being a “priest.”

Israelites recognized God’s presence to them in much the same way as we do.  Namely, in the Temple. the Tabernacle held the first 5 books of the Hebrew scriptures known as the “Torah” (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy).  The Torah’s presence in the Tabernacle was God’s word alive in their midst.  Catholics likewise see/hear God’s presence in the Bible—both within the Hebrew scriptures of what we call the “Old” Testament AND within the “New” Testament.  God’s presence—for both Israelites and Catholics is represented by the light burning near the Tabernacle.  However, within the Catholic Tabernacle is not the “Torah” (the 5 books) but consecrated hosts, the body of Christ.  See the similarity/continuity?  Both Judaism and Catholicism signal God’s presence in the Tabernacle via the sanctuary lamp—the “Old” Testament books of Torah for Jews and Christ’s presence in the Eucharist revealed in the “New” Testament.

Scholars sometimes refer to the “First” testament of Judaism and the “Second” testament of Christianity.    While Christians read BOTH sets of scriptures in our Bible, Judaism just reads the first set (since for them, Jesus was not God but simply a good Jewish man).  Our spiritual cousins within Islam draw upon material from both Old and New Testaments—in their scripture known as the “Qur’an.”  

When the high priest entered the Holy of Holies on one day of the year, he would say what the people considered God’s most sacred name—“Yahweh.”  It was never said at any other time.  As a result, when the Temple was destroyed in 70 a.d., and the Sadducees no longer existed as religious functionaries, that word was never again spoken.  The “Rabbi” became the clergy within Judaism and Christian scripture’s reference to Sadducees and Pharisees addressed roles that were no longer in existence.

When the Bible was translated and printed, the word “Jehovah” made its way into the text—and appeared in the King James version of 1611 (and subsequent versions).  Research showed that “Jehovah” was not accurate—prompting Jehovah’s Witnesses to still spend time arguing why the word WAS correct (and so they asserted there was no need to change their denominational name).  Scholars don’t use “Jehovah.”  N.B., although this group considers itself Christian, it does not affirm the existence of the Trinity.  Founded in the late 1800s by a clothing salesman in Pittsburgh, it took on its present name in 1931 and is a good example of a Gospel-inspired religious practice cobbled together by charismatic leaders who, despite no education in scripture or theology or Christian history, were able to organize a following that became a “church” with millions of members.

This weekend’s Gospel reading addresses a core Christian teaching.  Scholars say that Mark was addressing a community that tended to think of Jesus as a kind of Superman.  Mark stressed that the role of Jesus—and all Christians—was “to serve and not be served.”  Going to church is half of one’s identity—the other half being to do outreach that reflects the behavior and thought of Jesus. 

This week saw Jesuits and Catholics everywhere honor the memory of “The North American Martyrs”–John de Brebeuf, Gabriel Lalament, Isaac Jogues, Rene Goupil, Anthony Daniel, Charles Garnier, Noel Chabanel, and John DeLalonde.  Two of these men were laypeople dedicated to working with Jesuits.  All from France, these men were targets of the English who warred with the French until 1763 for control of North America.  England paid rewards for French scalps and an additional amount if the scalps were of Jesuits.  Indian America was allied with the French—except for the “League of the Iroquois” (a nation of tribes that included the Mohawk, Oneida, Seneca, Cayuga, Onondaga, and Tuscarora).  These peoples now go by their tribal-language name and, instead of “Iroquois,” use the name “Hoe-dee-na-show-nee.” 

The martyrs died in the 1640s and were canonized saints in 1930.  Each was killed separately with the account of Brebeuf’s death best known.  Appearing in books and articles, the account was read at parish masses—taken directly from a series of books that all good libraries have: The Jesuit Relations.  These volumes contain all the reports of Indian life in the Great Lakes and French Canada where Jesuits worked.  Saginaw’s own Henri Nouvel, S.J. is even mentioned in the Relations.  That is how the high school got its name—Nouvel being the first priest to say Mass in the region, and “nouvel” being the French word meaning “new.”  Since the 3 Catholic high schools were blended into one, NEW, school, “Nouvel” seemed an appropriate name.

While the account of Brebeuf’s martyrdom is horrific, it does not compare with the electronic video games played by young and old players at home.  These games have combatants who splatter the blood of their opponents in life-like, neighborhood settings.  By contrast, the account of a martyr’s death is instructive for modern-day listeners.  We are confronted with what living the faith has meant for people in our Catholic tradition.  We might consider it heroic to simply attend Mass—but we should be stopped in our tracks when we see others put their life on the line.  Since young and old Catholics know little about how people died for the faith, learning of Brebeuf’s example can be inspiring.  It’s at least an alternative to the millions of video games that cater to the bloodlust of modern Americans.

Our understanding of the faith might fail to make us realize what it took for us to have our faith inheritance.  People play video games at home that have the realistic slaughter of opponents while Brebeuf’s martyrdom account tells listeners that Calvary didn’t happen just once.

As described by Wikipedia: Throughout the torture, Brébeuf was reported to have been more concerned for the fate of the other Jesuits and of the captive Native converts than for himself. As part of the ritual, the Iroquois drank his blood and ate his heart, as they wanted to absorb Brébeuf’s courage in enduring the pain. The Iroquois mocked baptism by pouring boiling water over his head. Then they cannibalized him.  Accounts of his torture emphasize his stoic nature and acceptance, claiming that he suffered silently without complaining.  Account were given by Huron prisoners who had escaped (the Jesuits many times witnessed Hurons die at the hands of their enemies, the Iroquois).  They knew they might one day suffer the same fate, and wanted to be exemplars of faith for their torturers.  Would you do the same?

I’m reminded of the film about 45 of us watched a couple of weeks ago-The Mission.  It was based on the real-life history of Jesuits working among the Guarani Indians of South America.  Taking place when Spain and Portugal were 2 of the world’s most powerful countries, the film depicted Jesuits setting up missions in the Amazon jungle and bringing the best of European civilization to the people (young ones able to sing Latin hymns and play musical instruments of all types).  Sadly, Spain and Portugal wanted Rome to award them Guarani lands for development—opening the door to slavery of the Indian population and extraction of the Jesuits.

The final scenes show Portuguese soldiers entering Guarani territory killing priests and Indians, and burning down the missions that had served the people so well.  Actors Liam Neeson and Robert DeNiro played the role of Jesuits who took up arms to fight with the Indians, and they were killed—whereupon the Jesuit superior, actor Jeremy Irons, opted for peace and wore a white surplus over his black cassock.  He led about 50 men, women, and children toward the oncoming soldiers who leveled their rifles and killed the people one by one.  Irons held a monstrance (the gold/silver sun-like circular container that holds a consecrated host at benedictions) and led the group until a bullet hits him in the heart and he fell to the ground dead—clutching the monstrance.

In what was a most gripping scene, the group of Indians stop momentarily and a woman picks up the monstrance—and leads the group into the deadly gunfire that would kill them all.  This last act of each person in the crowd—replicates Brebeuf’s martyrdom.  Just as he gave his life witnessing his faith, so did the men, women, and children of The Mission.  Would you have done the same?