Yesterday we reflected on God’ invitation to us that we enter into an intimate relationship with the Word. Today as we rest in the promise that Christ returns in a way we cannot understand, we discover how or if, when or why we thirst to know more about God. If you did not listen to the long version of the Avivah Zornberg interview with Krista Tippett yesterday, take the time this week. Record questions. Initiate discussions. And in this holy Eastertide, share the story of your personal exodus, transformation and redemption.
In today’s Noontimewe hear words from Jesus that cause his listeners, both then and now, to ask questions. Rather than stifling curiosity that will lead to a fuller understanding of his identity and purpose, Jesus initiates a sense of inquiry that continues today. Jesus frequently answers questions with further questions. Jesus regularly creates open conversations instead of shutting down curiosity. Jesus refuses to take these questions as a challenge to his divinity and instead, uses these questions to call each of us to our own divinity.
Any creed that provides firm and pat answers to all question about our relationship with God does not reflect the life Jesus lives with his followers. What we experience today is God’s invitation to open and free dialog with God’s Word. We experience the patient and compassionate Spirit that abides with us despite our reluctance to believe.
As we move further into Eastertide, let us find an hour of time to listen to an On Being podcast of an interview conducted by Krista Tippett with Avivah Zornberg, a midrash expert. (The interview was conducted on April 7, 2005 and was first aired on April 10, 2014.) We investigate the Exodus story about a people who were once honored guests who have become slaves in ancient Egypt.
“With a master of midrash as our guide, we walk through the Exodus story at the heart of Passover. It’s not the simple narrative you’ve watched at the movies or learned in Sunday school. Neither Moses or Pharaoh, nor the oppressed Israelites or even God, are as they seem. As Avivah Zornberg reveals, Exodus is a cargo of hidden stories — telling the messy, strange, redemptive truth of us as we are, and life as it is”. (On Being: http://www.onbeing.org/ April 10, 2014)
Zornberg points out that this story of flight does not happen in order that we merely re-tell or re-read it; rather, it takes place so that we will each tell a greater story of our own exodus from slavery to salvation. Listen today and think about how each of us might recount our own redemption story. Listen today and ask questions. Remember our experience of the Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Sunday Triduum in which Christ makes his own exodus, and be prepared to listen to God speak to us in a new and redemptive way.
Listen to the unedited version of this interview to hear how Zornberg explains God’s passion for the faithful, and the importance of women in this saga when she connects The Song of Songs and Exodus.
Jesus moved about within Galilee; but he did not wish to travel to Judea, because the Jews were trying to kill him.
We have begun our ascent to Jerusalem and so we gird ourselves for the arduous journey with its dreadful yet glorious end. We have heard the words and woes of Amos and so we understand that change must and will come upon us. We set our feet on the path we have chosen and we step forward with both dread and hope. What do we discover about ourselves and our world that we must change? We believe that we are well aware of the pitfalls we will meet. We know that there are barriers that will stymie and frustrate us. We realize that if we hope to be made new we leave the refuge we have created for ourselves if we hope to travel up to Jerusalem. We recognize the hostile nature of the world we traverse and yet somehow we feel strangely safer once we commit to moving forward. Still, for a while we determine to remain where we feel safest while we prepare for our moment of boldness when we will allow ourselves to be open to rescue from our old way of living. And so for a time we remain in Galilee . . . while we prepare for our own conversion, change and resurrection.
Aryeh Weiss: The Second Temple Jerusalem
For another reflection about resting before our journey to Jerusalem, visit the Resting in Bethany post by entering the words into the blog search bar to explore.
Blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear.
The Parable of the Sower is a familiar one and yet . . . we resist changing so that our journey might be a little lighter. We refuse adjustment from our present position even though modification in our living might offer and opportunity for conversion. When we find ourselves traveling a road that seems immutable and absolute we need not fear, for we are graced with the Word that combats all Woe. How do we tune our ears so that we might honestly listen to God’s word? How do we un-muddy our eyes so that might rightly see God’s presence in our lives?
Life gives us surprising obstacles and we lose heart. We lament and complain. We recoil and mourn. Life treats us well and we take credit for all that we have and are. We act with hubris. We become pompous and self-righteous. Once we have set out on a path, do we have any recourse to change? Once we are well on our way, are we doomed to a single outcome?
The seed sown on the path is the one who hears the word of the kingdom without understanding it, and the evil one comes and steals away what was sown in his heart.
When we hear the Torah, the Prophets and the Gospel we are as free to heed God’s Word as we are to ignore it.
The seed sown on rocky ground is the one who hears the word and receives it with joy. But he has no root and lasts only for a time. When some tribulation or persecution comes because of the word, he immediately falls away.
When we hear Jesus’ parables we are as free to search for meaning as we are to treat these stories as children’s tales that hold no meaning for adult lives.
The seed sown among thorns in the one who hears the word, but then worldly anxiety and the lure of riches choke the word and it bears no fruit.
When we witness injustice we also witness the presence of the Spirit in a hostile and frightening world. We are as free to respond to that Spirit to unit ourselves in God’s grace with Christ’s mystical body as we are to squelch it.
But the seed sown on rich soil is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.
When we find ourselves on a difficult path fraught with danger and friction . . . we are as free to ask for, to receive and to respond to God’s grace as we are to remain implacably set in our own rigid way. As we near the end of the Lenten season and prepare to open ourselves to Christ’s Easter joy, let us determine to receive Christ with gratitude, to celebrate God’s presence with delight, and to rest in the serenity of the Spirit.
Before we leave Amos we reflect once more on his theme of the wealthy and comfortable taking advantage of the poor and voiceless. Like his contemporaries Hoseaand Joel, Amos spoke out against those who lay upon couches plotting to keep what they had gathered rather than share their prosperity. He brought to light the corruption too often found in those who hoard possessions and power rather than tend to those on the margins who have few or no resources.
Amos spoke so well and so boldly that he was finally expelled by Amaziah, the priest in charge of the royal sanctuary. His delineation of “hollow prosperity” was too much for the power structure and rather than spend time with the prophet’s words, leadership chose to shut down this man who gave their work a “sweeping indictment” of the injustice and idolatry Amos saw everywhere. The prophet is known for his fiery words but also his offering of a messianic perspective of hope. He knows that “divine punishment is never completely destructive; it is part of the hidden plan of God to bring salvation to men. The perversity of the human will may retard, but it cannot totally frustrate, this design of a loving God”. (Senior 1126)
As we read these verses today, we might think of a time when either we too lay upon couches at the expense of others or we were those laboring within a corrupt system. In the modern world, some of us have a the freedom to express our views in the public arena. Sometimes this voice is small, sometimes it carries weight; but no matter the strength of our words we know that when we stand in God’s plan all will be well. All will right itself.
Today’s reading is full of Old Testament ire; yet we can bring our New Testament eyes and ears to this story to put it into context. When we find ourselves in our own Samaria or northern Kingdom, when we see corruption in our holy Bethelcity, when our prophets preach caution to a power structure carried away with its own authority, we might pause to remember what Amos tells us: Woe to the complacent, leaders of a favored nation, lying upon beds of ivory, stretched comfortably on their couches . . . they devise their own accompaniment.
On this day when we celebrate the Lord’s Last Supper, we examine ourselves, our motives, our hopes and desires. We evaluate where and how and why we stand; and we look at those with whom we choose to spend time on idle couches.
When we find ourselves unsatisfied with all we see around us, or when we are content with only our own accompaniment,perhaps it is a warning that we need to look to ourselves and to our companions. Perhaps, on this holy day of celebrated sacrifice, it is time for us to consider the cost of our prosperity.
Senior, Donald, ed. THE CATHOLIC STUDY BIBLE. New York, Oxford University Press, 1990.1126. Print.
Adapted from a reflection written on September 7, 2009.
Yesterday marked the 41st anniversary of the death of Bishop Oscar Romero who was murdered as he celebrated Mass. View this powerful music video produced byThe Martyrs Project at:
“Amos’ final vision (9:1-4) does not begin with the same formula [as the other visions] and, this time, does not involve objects or animals. Instead, he sees God, who stands beside an altar. The mention of capitals and thresholds suggests a real temple . . . God begins by acting in the temple; both the people and structure itself will fall, and although readers have been made aware that no one will escape, God’s determination to root out every last person is highlighted here”. (Mays 652)
Climbing to the heavens, hiding in the bottom of the sea, ascending to the summit of Carmel, living in captivity. It does not matter where the Ethiopians, Philistines, Arameans, Israelites or any of us hides, all the peoples of the world are known to God. Why does Amos tell us this? What does he expect from us? How might we use his words, how might we interpret these woes, what are we to make of his visions?
Rather than seeing this imagery as a dualistic, black-or-white, either-or world of good people and bad in which some suffer and others are saved, let us consider that eachof us is both foolish and faithful. Let us put away our pride and greed and instead focus on living our lives as positive manifestations of God’s hope for us. Let us decide what or how we will amend our habits and customs as we bring the gift of ourselves to the altar. And as our Lenten act of fidelity, let us determine to show our gratitude for the depth and breadth and height of God’s enormous love.
Tomorrow, Messianic Perspective.
Mays, James L., ed. HARPERCOLLINS BIBLE COMMENTARY. New York, New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1988. 652. Print.
The time is ripe to have done with my people . . .
Locusts and fire are turned away when the prophet pleads the case against destruction. The plumb line measures behavior and this time Amos is silent except to record what he sees. Amos dares to engage with the corrupt priest, Amaziah. And now he brings us a vision of the fruit basket, the symbol of a life lived justly, honestly and lovingly, without corruption or deceit.
God says: My prophet Amos served the people well. Many did not heed his words. They relied instead on their influence and wealth, not understanding that all of this passes away under my hand. Do they care for the poor, the orphan and the widow? They do not. They tend to their comfort and power base. Do they believe that the devastation Amos predicts will fall upon them? They do not. They are immune to his words, they believe that the world’s woes are not theirs; and they believe Amos’ visions to be false. Do they heed my words as brought to them by my faithful prophet? Again the answer is no.
Rather than mercy from those whom God has blessed with power, we see exploitation and cunning.
Rather than love from those whom God has blessed with intelligence, we see narrow-mindedness.
Rather than compassion from those whom God has blessed with fruitful lives, we see greed.
As we continue our Lenten journey, let us consider what visions we have been sent . . . and how we respond to them.
In a wonderfully written essay posted on July 5, 2010, Dan Clendenin weaves the stories of AmosofTekoawith Oscar Romero, the martyred Salvadoran Archbishop. Clendenin points out that the story of the meeting between these two men, prophet and priest, would light up the blogosphere if it took place today.
Even when we are warned of impending doom, we manage to convince ourselves that all is well.
Even when we see violence happening to our relatives and neighbors, we convince ourselves that we are not part of the ugliness.
Even when the evidence is incontrovertible, we continue to believe the illusion that we ourselves have created.
As we continue our Lenten journey, let us consider who might be the Amaziahs in our lives. Who is it we believe without questioning? Who keeps us comfortable and creates a place for us in which we cease to question or even think? Who convinces us of the lies we plan together?
As we continue our Lenten journey, let us consider who might the Amoses in our lives. Who brings us truth that makes us uncomfortable? Who challenges the easy stories that rise out of falsehood? Who calls us to our better and brighter selves?
As we continue our Lenten journey, let us pledge to spend daily quality time with Christ who is our best and constant teacher. Let us promise to listen for the words of true prophets who bring us a reality we may not see. Let us promise to see the woes of the world as they really are and not as we wish them to be. And let us promise to keep always before us clear visions of the kingdom of God that Amos calls us to see.
Amos conveys the words of God in his prophecy. Put away black-and-white thinking. Step away from corruption and nepotism. Be open to transformation and redemption. Jesus arrives as the teacher who leads us away from dualism. He points out exploitation and favoritism. He rescues and changes.
Amos shares the woes he sees. The ease with which violence creeps into our lives. The mourning that threatens to drag us into darkness. The worship of little gods and the turning away from the Living God. The Spirit comes to abide with us, easing the pain of loss, comforting those who are crushed, gathering the remnant into the Body of Christ.
Amos tells us that there is much more to life than ease and comfort, power and fame. Amos reminds us that our real life lies in how we treat one another and not in the accumulation of wealth or titles. Amos asks us to move out of the darkness and into the light.
Christ comes to teach us how to live The Way. Christ steps out to lead us, taking on corrupt structures and power bases. Christ lives in each of us, renewing, recalling, and patiently ministering to our fears, wants and anxieties.
These are the Words of God conveyed by Amos. Jesus lives as the Word of God, walking and healing as he moves among us.
These are the Woes of the world as seen by Amos. Jesus comes to live among us and to remind us that trust in God alone prevails over the deepest and worst violence.
As we continue to move through Lent, let us pause to consider if or how we trust the healing hands of Christ.
