Daily Scripture

Scripture:

2 Chronicles 36:14-16, 19-23
Ephesians 2:4-10
John 3:14-21

Reflection:

Arguably, one of the most recognizable verses in the New Testament is here before us:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” (Jn 3:16)

That passage, or its verse number, John 3:16, is emblazoned on T-shirts and sweatshirts.  It is printed on coffee mugs, bookmarks, bumper stickers, even on the bottoms of In-‘N-Out milkshake containers.  During football games and baseball games, someone, usually wearing a wild multi-colored wig, is waving a placard for all to see.  And it reads: John 3:16.

But, despite all this biblical zeal, there lurks a problem.  The passage has been axed from its contextual moorings.  Consequently, its real meaning and impact have been lost, gone adrift in a sea of sentimentality.

The passage is indeed about God’s love for us, for the whole world.  God loves us so much that he gave us his son.  No argument there.

The issue lies with the word “gave.”  It does not mean what we think it does; as in God “gave” us a gift.  No.

In the Greek, the word “gave” is didomi.  It means to surrender, to deliver up, to hand over, as in Jesus was handed over, surrendered to the Romans for crucifixion.

The passage, now stripped of popular piety, reveals its true meaning.  It is now a sign of contradiction, the contradiction of the cross.  For God so loved the world that he surrendered his son to the world, and even to humanity’s evil of crucifixion.

A sign of God’s love.  A sign of the world’s violence.  A sign of contradiction.

Nicodemus, under the cover of darkness, he was after all part of Jerusalem’s religious establishment, came to Jesus seeking to understand more about Jesus’ teaching.

Jesus taught him in these words:

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” (Jn 3:14-15)

Jesus was recalling the episode of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness.  Any Jew of the time would have caught the allusion immediately.  Jesus was referring to the Book of Numbers, chapter 21.  The Israelites were complaining that they didn’t have food and would starve in the wilderness.  So, God gave them manna.  Then they grumbled that they didn’t have enough water to keep from dying of thirst.  So, God gave them all the water they needed.  Apparently, not good enough for the demanding Israelites.  They now whined that they were pretty sick of that stuff called manna, “this wretched food,” as they described it.  And for good measure, they moaned in self-pity that they would have been better off as slaves in Egypt.  At least there, they would have had shelter, food and water, without having to wander in the wilderness.

Finally, God said enough is enough.  He punished the ungrateful Israelites by sending hundreds of poisonous, fiery snakes among them.  Many of the people died painful deaths from the serpents’ venomous bite, or was it perhaps from the venom of their own rejection of God.

They rushed to Moses saying “we have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you.  Intercede with the LORD so that he will take the snakes away from us!” (Nm 21:7).

God relented.  He told Moses to make a bronze serpent, mount it on a pole, then lift the serpent high so that all who gaze in faith on the bronze serpent would be healed of their poisonous and deadly wound.

The serpent, the instrument of death, now became for the Israelites a symbol of life.

A sign of contradiction.

To Nicodemus, who must have been scratching his head, wondering “what does all this mean?” Jesus brought it home for him.  Just like that bronze serpent, so too must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that all who gaze up at him in faith, believing in him “will have eternal life” (Jn 3:15).

Right about now, we may be like Nicodemus, scratching our heads, too.  What exactly does Jesus mean by being “lifted up”?  Those words “lifted up” is the Greek word hypsothenai.  It has a two-fold meaning.  It can mean lifted up in the literal sense, as in Jesus being lifted up on the cross, his crucifixion.

Hypsothenai also has another meaning.  It can mean to exalt.  Those words, “lifted up,” now have depth.  They mean both.  They mean Jesus being lifted up in the ignominy and violence of the cross.  But the cross also means the moment of Jesus’ exaltation, when he most profoundly reveals God’s love to the world tormented by hatred and violence.  For Nicodemus – and for us — Jesus unfolds the mystery of the healing cross by placing it against the silhouette of the healing bronze serpent raised up in the wilderness.

A sign of contradiction.  This happens even today.

At Mass, when the priest lifts high and exalts the Body of Christ, it will look to all the world like just an ordinary wafer of bread.  But to those of us who, with eyes of faith, can gaze on this manna from heaven, this bread of life, it is the real presence, body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ.

It is a sign of contradiction.  And it is best understood with the words:

“For God so loved the world that he surrendered his only son for us.”

Deacon Manuel Valencia is on the staff at Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center, Sierra Madre, California.

Scripture:

Hosea 14:2-10
Mark 12:28-34

 

Reflection:

The Path of Forgiveness

When the lectionary does not have the continuous readings of Ordinary Time we lose a certain context that can help us in approaching the daily readings. But in the time when specially chosen readings make up the lectionary, as in Lent and Easter, we have the help of the particular season to guide us. We draw from our experiences, from the richness of prayer, art, tradition and heritage, and our mind and heart arrange such diversity into grace filled patterns. Is this the way grace is at work as we approach Lent through our daily Scripture readings?

I have found some Lents that each week advanced me along the Lenten journey as if a clear path were mapped out. Other years, it seemed unfamiliar paths branched off the main roadway. I got to the Triduum and Easter sure enough, but I was definitely on newly trodden paths. That must be grace working.

This third week of Lent I find a path wandering through reflections on forgiveness. There is an invitation to walk that mystery, to see some of its many facets and appreciate it as if it were a jewel of great price. One not always available for the appreciation of its ‘terrible beauty’; one that may be happily buried waiting for some special grace to give the energy to dig it up and polish it up.

We may have begun this week with the Samaritan woman at the well? It is one of the great Lenten readings as we prepare for Baptism, along with the healing at Siloam and the raising of Lazarus. It is not a ‘sign’ or miracle in John’s gospel, although it accomplishes the same goal: it moves us to faith. Our Lord’s forgiveness is revealed in his open acceptance of the Samaritan woman. Wells are marital symbols in the Old Testament and there seems to be love at first sight at Jacob’s Well. The love in God’s eyes for each of us is the certainty of God’s forgiving love for us.

We hear Peter question the limits of love, ‘how about seven times?’. Our week will end tomorrow with the the Pharisee and a humble man, eyes downcast, seated in the last row, who asks God for mercy, “I am a sinner”.

I connect today with Wednesday when we were told not to forget, not to let slip from our memory the marvels of God’s love for us. Don’t forget that God forgets our sins, crimson becomes white! And remember all of the manifestations of God’s love. These prove God’s forgiveness. A thousand generations are forgiven, two or three aren’t! We are suppose to laugh when we hear those numbers. God is in favor of forgiveness. Yes, at least we can breath a sigh of relief if not a roar of laughter at God’s humor.

We are a people uniquely loved by God, each of us and all of us. We are manifestations of God’s love to one another. As the Father has forgiven us, so we are to forgive one another, to try to forgive one another, and to ask the Father to help us to do this! We are to love God and our neighbor. As we acknowledge our sin we see how God’s infinite, creative goodness fills in the emptiness and void that sin makes. Let us love God and our neighbor as ourself, let us forgive our neighbor as God’s love forgives us.

Fr. William Murphy, CP is the pastor of Immaculate Conception parish in Jamaica, New York.

Scripture:

Jeremiah 7:23-28
Luke 11:14-23

Reflection:

I grew up watching the old English legend of Robin Hood airing regularly on our family TV. Escape into this fantasy world was a wonderful time waster and along with my siblings and many other children thoroughly enjoyed these adventures of the thief of Sherwood Forrest ‘robbing from the rich and giving to the poor.’ Suddenly actions that seemed to be illegal were shown to be acts that rebalance the situation and bring some justice to those oppressed by a cruel ruler.

Here I’m not commenting on whether this is to be seen as right or wrong, nor am I competent to confirm whether Robin Hood existed or not. Indeed I do not know if his motives were as noble as proclaimed, but these issues seem not to matter to devotees of either the TV show or later films that celebrated his life. Further,  and if we needed proof of his popularity even today, we need only turn to the UK where the Doncaster Sheffield Airport was formerly known as ‘The Robin Hood Airport’!

But it is the idea of ‘robbery’ that links the story of Robin Hood with the proclamation of Jesus in the gospel today.

In response to critics who try to manipulate the crowds – by labelling the casting out of a demon by Jesus as a work of the devil – Jesus uses a very challenging image to describe his own ministry. He presents his actions in terms of robbing a fortress like dwelling. “When a strong man fully armed guards his palace, his possessions are safe. But when one stronger than he attacks and overcomes him, he takes away the armour on which he relied and distributes the spoils”.

We may interpret the text as Jesus speaking of himself as the one who is invading the ‘fortress’ that Satan has made his own and ‘robbing’ him of all his possessions! Jesus here is describing his work as that of breaking into those places and lives where evil reigns and ‘stealing’ away human hearts and motivations from any orientation to sin and bringing people into a kingdom of light and safety. He not only rescues people from situations of evil but he gives them back their potential and capacity – as witnessed in the cure of a man made ‘mute’ by a demon who after Jesus’ action to free him can now speak!

Today we are invited live our lives trusting in this energy of Jesus who is constantly at work to bring us to safety and new life.

Perhaps too, we might pay attention to the contrast between being mute and speaking out. In the 1700s Irish statesman and philosopher Edmund Burke is attributed to have said that “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men should do nothing.” As Christians let us not allow our own voice to be silenced and be made ‘mute’ by any seduction or attempt to quell our witness to the gospel and to the values of life.

Rather as this Lenten time unfolds for us, let us recommit ourselves to using the gifts of God – our voice, our witness and our capacity to love our neighbour – to combat evil in any guise it takes with our society. Let us amaze the crowds by our imitation of the ways and actions of Jesus.

Fr. Denis Travers, C.P., is a member of Holy Spirit Province, Australia.  He currently serves on the General Council and is stationed in Rome.

Scripture:

Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9
Matthew 5:17-19

Reflection:

Father Casper Watts, C.P., told great stories. Once a week, he would come into our third and fourth grade classrooms to teach us religion. Oh, how I looked forward to those times. Unlike regular religion class where we learned to memorize our prayers and the correct responses to the catechism’s questions, he told of the wilds of California where he had just come from. He would tell of mountains, and woods, and the animals he had seen there. He made religion fun and something I wanted to be a part of—life.

Jane Addams was also a great storyteller. Her book, “Twenty Years at Hull House” tells of her welcoming immigrants from Catholic countries like Italy, Germany, Poland and Ireland to this, what had to be for them—strange city of Protestants. Many did not speak the language nor understand the culture.  Miss Addams, a Protestant, established Hull House for them—a safe place that not only educated these immigrants about their newly adopted “promised land”, but also provided a place where they could share their stories through food, dance and yes, storytelling.

As they are about to enter their promised land, Moses tells his people in today’s scripture selection:

However, take care and be earnestly on your guard
not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen,
nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live,
but teach them to your children and to your children’s children.  (Dt 4:9)

Help me God to spread your good news to everyone and anyone who comes into my life today and just as importantly help me listen to their stories and learn of their cultures.

Dan O’Donnell is a Passionist Partner and a longtime friend of the Passionists.  He lives in Chicago. 

Scripture:

Daniel 3:25, 34-43
Matthew 18:21-35

Reflection:

One thing we can rely on: God will always forgive us. There is no sin so big, so grievous, or so intentional that God refuses to forgive it. Jesus even forgave those who killed him, and Jesus commands infinite forgiveness from us. Yet it is incredibly difficult to forgive someone who has deeply hurt me. In a world ruled by revenge-fueled cries of eye-for-an-eye “justice”, forgiveness remains one of the thorniest aspects of discipleship. Although it is far too complex a topic to cover in a these brief reflections, I offer a few thoughts on the misunderstood nature of forgiveness.

First, there is a difference between forgiveness and reconciliation because reconciliation is a mutual endeavor. It begins with forgiveness, with each party admitting their part in the wrongdoing, each one repenting and asking forgiveness of the other, and both parties granting forgiveness. Then both people sincerely engage in the often difficult process of repairing the relationship and rebuilding the trust that was damaged. Both people must want it, and that the relationship must be worth the effort and challenge.

Forgiveness, on the other hand, can be a unilateral act. I can forgive someone even if they show no remorse, don’t repent, and don’t ask for it. Forgiveness is something I do for my own sake and the sake of the Gospel; it is not a “favor” I extend to the offender. It does not mean the offender’s actions were right or OK with me. It doesn’t mean I think the offender deserves to be forgiven (indeed, perhaps there is no remorse or change in behavior and the offender would do it again given the opportunity). It doesn’t mean I give up on any pursuit of justice or due consequences for the action. It does not require that we reconcile.

It DOES mean that I give up my need for revenge. I give up my hate. I give up my desire to see the offender suffer as much as I have suffered. I give up the urge to get even. I refuse to be controlled by someone else’s bad actions. I take back my own power and release myself from being shackled by the venom of anger and vengeance. Hopefully I eventually reach the point where I can pray for that person’s good. I set my heart free from prison, and I can live my life, sleep, eat and laugh without that constant dark shadow. I can heal and be whole.

Forgiveness is not a single decision. It is a process. The greater and more grievous the hurt, the longer the process takes. Even after forgiving, something may happen that brings those old hurts up again and generates the anger, bitterness, and desire for revenge. Then I have to return to the process and reaffirm the forgiveness, over and over again.

Of course, it is easier to talk about forgiveness that to do it. Especially when the hurt is deep, it can seem impossible. But we need to try. We need to try for our own sakes, so we can be made whole. We need to try for the sake of God’s people across the globe who are oppressed and victimized by ideologies of vengeance. We need to try for the sake of Christ, who commanded it and modeled it to his death.

Especially during this Lenten season, may we all grow in forgiveness, so that the reign of God may be proclaimed by our lives.

Amy Florian is a teacher and consultant working in Chicago.  For many years she has partnered with the Passionists.  Visit Amy’s website: http://www.corgenius.com/.