The Mercy of God

April 13, 2019

Mission is governed by the mercy of God. Missionaries dwell among people, making their joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, their own. They live in solidarity and witness to the love of God by who they are, what they do, what they say, and how they say it. Our journey into radical conversion asks us if mercy will be the “law” we live by.
 
The religious lives of the people during the time of Jesus was a mixture of temple worship, the study and appropriation of the Torah and the Prophets and celebrating the great feasts that recalled the most significant moments in the relationship between God and the people. In today’s Gospel, they are just days away from the most important feast of the year – Passover.
 
Passover recalls the liberation of the Hebrews from the land of Egypt, the Exodus, when God sent a series of plagues to force the Pharaoh to “let my people go.” They Hebrews took a lamb, killed it, used its blood to mark their door posts, roasted it, and feasted on it and unleavened bread. God sent the angel of death that struck down the first born male of all the living but, when coming to the homes of the Hebrews, with the blood of the lamb on the door post, he “passed over” those homes.
 
The full story of the Passover reveals God as determined to free his people from bondage and giving the Egyptians plenty of time to change their hearts. They did not accept the mercy of God.
 
Lazarus had just been raised from the dead and many came to believe in Jesus based on Mary’s testimony. The chief priests and the Pharisees saw more and more people believing in Jesus and came together to figure out what to do since Passover was drawing near. They decided it was better for one man to die than to risk a Roman intervention.
 
Jesus, just like God during the Exodus, gave the people countless opportunities to come to know and accept him as the Son of God. The religious leaders of the day could not accept this truth and calculated a response that they believed would be best for their people.
 
In our prayer today, we can lift-up to God what mercy means to us and ask God to reveal where, in our lives, we are called to be merciful. Sometimes we find ourselves frozen in positions; we can fast from our own conclusions, give-up our assumptions, and try to see life from another person’s perspective. A religious sister from Africa said, “here in America, we ask ourselves what we will eat today. In my country, we ask if we will eat today.” Finally, let’s step-up these last few days of Lent and give some of our discretionary money to the missions. What would it be like if we just consumed less and give that money to the poor?  

April 12, 2019

We are accompanying Jesus on his journey to the cross. In today’s Gospel, we are nearing the end of that journey. The conflict building between Jesus and the religious authorities of his day is coming to a climax. They prepare to stone Jesus. They accuse him of blasphemy.
 
Blasphemy is insulting, showing contempt, or a lack of reverence for God. The authorities believed that Jesus was merely a man; it is contemptuous to equate yourself with God.
 
Jesus points to his works – the good done through his teaching and healing. This puts the pressure on the authorities; how could Jesus do amazing things and still insult God? Jesus cured the man born blind. Were they going to stone him for having cured a man who had been blind since birth?
 
Jesus shows nothing but reverence and docility towards the Father. It was the truth of his relationship to God that the people could not accept. Here is the irony; in denying that “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son,” they are the ones committing blasphemy.
 
All the works of the Church flow from God’s love for humanity poured out in the person of Jesus. We cannot love Jesus without loving others. Our faith must be expressed in some type of action.
 
Works are the activities we do that flow from our faith in Jesus. It is so important to step back and acknowledge the “works” the Church has done in our country in just 230 years (1789 Baltimore becomes first diocese). Consider the vast network of churches that provide stability, community, and positive civic engagement in our neighborhoods, towns, and cities across the country. Plus, our elementary schools, high schools, colleges and universities. Plus, all the hospitals, clinics, and nursing homes. Plus, Catholic Charities that provides an array of social services and care for the poor. Plus, missionaries who dedicate their time – for some a few hours a week and for others their entire lives – to being with and for people on the periphery, longing for a better life, justice, and healing.
 
In mission, our works flow from our relationship with God, the gifts, skills, and purpose God has given us, and then they take form through the needs of the people we accompany as well as our own needs. Our works embody our compassion and the mercy of God.
 
Lift-up and give thanks to the works entrusted to you by God. Fast, give-up, secular notions of success; the number of meals served is less important than homeless friends having people who care enough to know him or her by name. Finally, give your time, expertise, and financial resources to the works of the Church; feed the hungry, teach, heal the sick, comfort those who mourn, and sponsor mission in your own neighborhood, across the country, or around the world.

April 11, 2019

Step Up to Death

“Are you out of your mind?” That could easily be a contemporary phrasing of what the people were asking Jesus in today’s Gospel. Why? Because what he says sounds outrageous.
 
"Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever keeps my word will never see death." 
 
The people say he is possessed but they keep talking with him. They think of Abraham and the Prophets, they died, how can Jesus’ followers “never see death?” Is Jesus greater than Abraham? In short, “who do you think you are?”
 
Jesus, typically, points to the Father “who glorifies” him. Speaking of Abraham, Jesus claims that even Abraham “rejoiced to see” Jesus. Wait a second, the people said, “you are not even 50 years old,” how could he possibly have met Abraham. Jesus responds, “before Abraham came to be, I AM.”
 
The bookends of this conversation are death and Jesus’ claim, “I AM.” “I AM,” is the meaning of the word “Yahweh,” one of the Hebrew names for God. It is rooted in the story of Moses when he encounters God on the mountain when he receives the 10 commandments. Moses asks for his name, and God responds by saying, roughly, “tell the people I AM who I AM” sent you.
 
Death is an absolute for us. It is, literally, “the end.” What is hard to accept is that death no longer defines what it means to be human. There is something more – there is participation in being itself. In some way, to follow Jesus means that we do not see death because we see beyond death; we see the life that death makes possible. We see being itself. We see “I AM.”
 
Death occurs in time and space; being itself is beyond space and time. We who follow Jesus knows the reality of death but also its limitation; death is not the end of the story. This is why the death penalty is no longer accepted by the church; people can change, can transcend the most imaginable of crimes, and society has reasonable ways of protecting itself from the most heinous of criminals.
 
Mercy is possible because, in Jesus, we transcend even death. Saint Francis of Assisi praised “sister death.” It is good, from time to time, to ponder death itself and how it plays out in our lives, what control it has over us, what is it that we fear, and what is it that we really fear. What makes for a life well lived? In your prayer, lift-up your thoughts and feelings about death to your ancestors who have already died. They are still available to you as a “cloud of witnesses.” They are available to us to help us with our own death.
 
As we pray over death, let us also give-up, fast from, all the ways we deny or avoid death. Are we afraid of death or are we afraid of living?
 
Give life by stepping-up to death; visit the elderly and the sick. Accompany someone through their final hours. Budget time just to be with someone who is near death. Look death in the eye and say, with St. Francis,
 
“All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing your will!
The second death can do them no harm.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give him thanks.
And serve him with great humility.”
 

April 10, 2019

Dwell

“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” 
 
The challenge we face, every day, is to dwell in the mercy of God. How do we do that? Jesus teaches us in today’s Gospel. Remain in Jesus, learn from him, know him as truth and be free. 
 
If you have not treated yourself yet, listen to On Being – it is a podcast and website – where Krista Tippett interviews a wonderful collection of thoughtful and soulful people. One of her expressions is our struggle to “inhabit” this time and place.
 
As we continue our sojourn through the 40-days of lent, we may notice that we do not always inhabit the place or time where we find ourselves. Sometimes, it does not even feel like we inhabit our bodies; we rush when we should slow down, we push when we should pull, we tighten when we should release.
 
Yahweh, the name given to God by our ancestors in faith, means “I am who am.” The Hebrew concept of God was different that other gods – Yahweh was powerful but not restricted to a place, indeed, the ark of his covenant was for his people, he dwelt with his people and the story of the Jewish people is the story of their relationship with God over time and through space. But neither time nor space can contain God.
 
This is part of the conversation Jesus is having with some of the people attracted to his words in today’s gospel; they just cannot accept that the God of Abraham, of Moses, of the prophets has come to dwell among his people in the person of Jesus.
 
Take a moment and remember some of the words that Jesus has spoken. Perhaps something from the Sermon on the Mount – “blessed are the peace makers.” Perhaps it was his interaction with the woman caught in adultery, “nor do I condemn you.” Give yourself some time and see how many words, expressions, stories you remember hearing from Jesus. Once you have a list of ten or more, go back and ask yourself which of these “words” resonates in your heart today.
 
Dwell there. Live in those words. There was a man whose heart was broken by the woman he loved. He felt that he had died. The words of Jesus, spoken to Lazarus, “come out,” suddenly were words Jesus was speaking to him. This man had to get up and leave the tomb of his broken heart.
 
Once you have prayerfully lifted-up the word of Jesus that you need to dwell in, take the time to shed, to give-up, any baggage that is still weighing you down. You may find a new freedom to step-up, give, some of your time and energy to those who need you today.
 

April 9, 2019

Look

We can never accept the mercy of God until we see it. All we have to do is look. 
 
In today’s Gospel, we get another slice of an involved conversation between Jesus and the Pharisees about the nature of God and mercy. 
 
There was something about Jesus that attracted the Pharisees to him and yet they could just not take the next step and believe he was the Son of God. They could not accept the truth about him; I AM. 
 
There is sadness in this conversation for Jesus; if only they would accept the mercy before them they would be free of their sin. They can. They choose not to. 
 
They will have another chance. “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I AM.” Jesus freely gives himself as the sacrificial lamb; the cross reflecting, and transcending, the staff of Moses that cured the people in the desert who were bitten by serpents. 

There is an immediacy and an intimacy to the mercy of God. Every breath we take, every sip of water, all the relationships that form the fabric of our lives, the bread we take for granted, everything, flows from the mercy of God. Just look. 

Pray. Pray all the time. Lift-up your eyes, focus on someone or something good; give thanks to God and ask for his grace. Give-up, fast, from distractions today. Turn off the noise, and just be. Give the value of a cup of coffee to the poor. 
 

April 8, 2019

Verify

Mercy is essential to the missionary life because it is at the intersection of our relationships with God, stranger, and self. It is also very messy business and requires time and patience.
 
The missioning process begins with that innate impulse for us to go beyond ourselves, even climbing out of our comfort zones to cross some type of boarder, risking a personal relationship with a stranger through service, witness, and presence motivated by the love of God. Mercy lives in that personal relationship, in the encounter with a stranger, in dialogue, in discernment.
 
Mercy is always specific, targeted, personal and truthful. Mercy cannot be one “size fits all.” That is why testimony – and the importance of verification – is essential for mercy to even be possible.
 
In today’s Gospel, Jesus addresses the importance of testimony and the verification of that testimony. That is the only way to know for certain if the testimony is true. The story of Susanna, from the book of Daniel, the first reading for today, underscores the importance of verification. Daniel, a young prophet, realizes that two elders are lying about Susanna to hide their lust and punish her for not submitting to their advances.
 
The people are convinced by the testimony of the men, but Daniel, sensing the truth, demands that their testimony be verified. He does so by separating them, asking each of them for details of their story, and then comparing the testimony. It becomes clear they are lying; Susanna is spared, and these men suffer the punishment they sought for her – death.
 
Mercy takes time and patience. One of the reasons is that we must verify the testimony that is given. We will need to make judgements about ourselves and others. For these judgements to be true, they must rely on verified testimony.
 
It is deeply troubling that President Trump repeatedly lies. One a personal level, it is irrelevant. It makes no difference to my life if his father was born in Germany or in New York. Even on the level of public policy, it is hard to see how that is relevant. Perhaps, politically, having his father foreign born in Germany creates for him a relationship with some ethnic or political groups – and again, it does not seem particularly relevant. What is so disturbing is that, even when his testimony is proven wrong, through the process of verification, he continues to assert it.
 
This is the mission field all believers here in the United State now inhabit. We live in a political environment increasing characterized by lies, false testimony, and unsubstantiated claims.
 
May our prayer, this day, lift-up to God our soul felt cry for truth, patience to pursue it, and courage to seek it. May God reveal to us the toxic channels of false testimony; fast from those “feeds,” give-up dependence on them, and seek new ways to verify the truth. Finally, may we step-up, give time and resources, so the truth of the poor can be seen and responded to with compassion and mercy.

April 7, 2019

Mercy

 In our 40-day sojourn into the land of radical conversion, we have looked at time, space, generativity, relationship. In this, our 5^th week of Lent, we need to look closely at mercy.
 
There is no better story to instruct us in mercy that today’s Gospel (Year C) from Saint John; the woman caught in adultery. Those communities using Year A will reflect on the raising of Lazarus.
 
Scripture scholars point out the unique features of this story – it was not written by St. John; rather, it was added later when scribes copied his gospel (which had multiple authors already) because it was such a compelling story. The feel is more like St. Luke, then St. John, but those investigations are best left to the scholars. It is the Word of God and it has a lot to teach us about mercy and mission.
 
Jesus comes early to the temple area to teach the people. As he is teaching them, the “scribes and Pharisees” bring a woman caught in “the very act” of committing adultery and put in the middle of the crowd before Jesus.
 
The trial begins. She was caught. We have witnesses. Moses commanded us to “stone such women.” What do you say? It is Jesus who is on trial here, not the woman; “they said this to test him.”
 
Jesus bends down and begins writing on the ground. They continue to press him; what is his answer? Jesus stands up, resuming the teacher position, and says, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Jesus bends down again, continuing to write on the ground. Slowly, beginning with the oldest, the men begin to leave along with the rest of the crowd.
 
The woman is now alone with Jesus. He speaks to her, not at her or about her. “Where are they? Has no one condemned you?” “No one, Sir,” she replies. “Neither do I condemn you. Now go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”
 
There is so much to unpack in this story. How did the men catch this woman in the “very act” of adultery? Where is the injured husband? Where is the adulterous man? Why are they trying to set Jesus up? What is the nature of sin and mercy?
 
Mercy is not license, it is not permission to do whatever you want and expect there will be no consequences. Mercy honors the truth of sin; sin injures, and eventual breaks, relationships and broken relationships lead to death. Nevertheless, mercy lays before us a path forward, a path away from death, a path that repairs broken relationships, a path towards healing and renewal.
 
Jesus reveals to the “scribes and Pharisees” their sin. He exposes the hypocrisy of patriarchy, or what we call today “toxic masculinity.” He teaches the crowd the true meaning of “a contrite heart.” He protects the woman from further humiliation and saves her from death by stoning. He also calls her to repentance, to a change of life, to a life without this sin. She must face the reality of her marriage rather than escape them in the arms of another man.
 
Saint Augustine, reflecting on this scripture, says that, in the end, “only two remain, the wretched woman and the incarnation of mercy.” What was it that Dorothy Day said about a “harsh and dreadful love?”
 
Today, let us pray this gospel, lifting-up ourselves into the story, being the woman, the scribes, the crowd, even Jesus. Let us give-up, fast, from artificial mercy, mercy without truth, or goodness, or beauty. Let us step-up, and give friends, family members, co-workers, even strangers, true mercy; freedom to the restoration of right relationship with God, others, and self.
 
This week let us take to heart the centrality of mercy for our lives as Christians. As missionaries, can we truly encounter the stranger, accepting them for who and what they are, free of judgement, and still embody mercy to sins they have committed while we see, perhaps for the first time, the sins we have inflicted on them? To give mercy to others, we must accept mercy for ourselves and repent.
 
May God have mercy on us.