In today’s Gospel reading we are given a clear antidote to yesterday’s frightening exposition of the power of Beelzebub. Yesterday we were reminded that there is no neutral ground between good and evil. Jesus tells us that there is no quiet place where we can ride the fence and hide from a decision to love God as God loves us. Today we are reminded that in both the Old and New Testaments we are called to honor God, and to remember that God alone is the source and goal of all life. It is love that engenders, nurtures and unifies all of creation. We are invited today to join in this great communion of love.
Revisit an earlier Noontimes reflection on this post by entering the words The Greatest Commandment into the blog search bar.
When we contemplate the abundance of God’s love we understand the importance of this week’s Lenten practice: rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
James Tissot: The Chief Priests ask Jesus by What Right Does He Act in This Way
Thursday, March 2, 2023
If we have heard or read this story a number of times, it is likely that we know only one or two translations. Today we look at THE MESSAGE version as we reflect on our relationship with God . . . and our understanding of how Satan comes stealthily into our lives.
Jesus knew what they were thinking and said, “Any country in civil war for very long is wasted. A constantly squabbling family falls to pieces. If Satan cancels Satan, is there any Satan left? You accuse me of ganging up with the Devil, the prince of demons, to cast out demons, but if you’re slinging devil mud at me, calling me a devil who kicks out devils, doesn’t the same mud stick to your own exorcists?
Those who are jealous of Jesus’ power are eager to claim that his authority comes from darkness. In our Lenten pilgrimage we might consider our own reaction to others’ good news.
But if it’s God’s finger I’m pointing that sends the demons on their way, then God’s kingdom is here for sure.
Those who cannot understand the depth and beauty of Jesus’ transformative love want to credit themselves with for their success and blame others for their failures. The concept of God’s kingdom of love where love and forgiveness are powerful runs counter to their thinking of justified revenge and just wars.
When a strong man, armed to the teeth, stands guard in his front yard, his property is safe and sound. But what if a stronger man comes along with superior weapons? Then he’s beaten at his own game, the arsenal that gave him such confidence hauled off, and his precious possessions plundered.
Those who believe that our world justifies an escalation of power find comfort in their belief that God blesses the good and condemns the bad.
This is war, and there is no neutral ground. If you’re not on my side, you’re the enemy; if you’re not helping, you’re making things worse.
Jesus’ words bring us the news that our dualistic thinking of good/bad, strong/weak, right/wrong is not the way of the kingdom but an illusion of the world. Jesus tells us clearly that the evil we throw at others comes back to live with us. And Jesus reminds us that when we chose to disbelieve his assertion that God’s world is nothing but love . . . we will want to reconsider our thinking . . . and the devil mud that we are tempted to throw.
When we compare other translations of Jesus’ words, their meaning takes on new light. And as we reflect on our concept of Satan, let us remember our Lenten practice this week. Rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
Do we fully understand the depth of Jesus’ words? Do we fully open ourselves to Jesus’ transformation?
Jesus says: Don’t suppose for a minute that I have come to demolish the Scriptures—either God’s Law or the panorama. God’s Law is more real and lasting than the stars in the sky and the ground at your feet. Long after stars burn out and earth wears out, God’s Law will be alive and working.
Do we fully understand that when we mock creation we mock ourselves? Do we fully open ourselves to the wonders of God’s universe?
Jesus says: Trivialize even the smallest item in God’s Law and you will only have trivialized yourself. But take it seriously, show the way for others, and you will find honor in the kingdom. Unless you do far better than the Pharisees in the matters of right living, you won’t know the first thing about entering the kingdom.
God says: You work inordinate hours. You fret over the past and worry about the future. You wriggle through plans that you lay for yourselves. You create rules and parameters that you hope will keep you safe. The Law I speak about is simple indeed – it is the only law the actually keeps you safe. It is the Law of Love. The Law of forgiveness. The Law of generosity and kindness. The Law of healing and comfort. The Law of mercy. Rest in me. Bring your worries to me. Allow my Law of Love to reconcile, restore and rebuild. Allow yourself to step into my kingdom of love.
We continue our Lenten practice as we consider how we might bring others to God’s kingdom of love. Rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
Tomorrow, Beelzebub.
For another post on these verses, enter the words A Teaching on the Law into the blog search bar and explore.
We continue our journey of Lenten Gospels and today’s Noontime calls us to reprise a story we have heard many times, but may not have taken in. How do we forgive those who do us horrible damage? How do we move beyond our personal pain and fear? How we forgive endlessly and pray for our enemies? How do we allow God to transform harm into goodness? We might listen to the story told by Immaculée Ilibagiza in LEFT TO TELL: DISCOVERING GOD AMIDST THE RWANDAN HOLOCAUST (2006). The January 2012 Noontimes post gives us a great deal to think about.
Tomorrow, the law.
For the original post, enter the words The Unforgiving Servant into the blog search bar and explore.
To visit http.immaculee.com/ and see news and interviews, or to get a taste of the ideas Immaculée shares with us, click on the images.
And we continue our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
How do we rise again once we have failed? How do we handle jealousy and envy, our own and that of others? Where do we find our escape route on the brow of the hill and how do we get to it when the world crowds around us? Today’s Gospel calls us to re-visit an earlier post about how Jesus reacts to the rejection he experiences in his own home town. When we realize that those closest to us seem like strangers, we read these verses and consider how Jesus is rejected in his own hometown. We reflect on how he escapes the anger of those he wants to save. And we continue our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
Tomorrow, seventy-seven times.
For the original post, enter the words The Brow of the Hill in the blog search bar, and explore.
In today’s reading we watch as the seeds of division are sown by the discontent, the petty and the anxious. They want to know who has sinned and who has not, who is guilty and who is not, who is worthy and who is not. Jesus deftly turns the crowd away from the littleness of their questions and turns them back to the bigness of God. In essence he tells his listeners – as he tells us: there is no need to parse through the little details we drag up as we move through the gossip, scare-mongering and trivialities of our days. There is only a need to reflect the generosity, the beauty and fidelity of God and of God’s creation. There is only the call to bear fruit in the ground where we are planted. It is in this determination to bring good out of bad that God rests. And it is in this same persistence to remain faithful to God that we find God’s hope, and joy and peace.
We begin a new Lenten practice this week. Rather than thinking: “The dream of peace is an unreal and distant illusion,” let us think instead, “The dream of peace we hold is present in God’s kingdom. And God’s kingdom is now”.
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo: Return of the Prodigal Son – National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
There is a portion of Isaiah’s prophecy (Isaiah 10: 20-27) which speaks to us about holding on to the tiniest thread of hope even when everyone else has walked away, has given up and given in. When all is dark and seems lost forever to the dark ways, somewhere deep, and often hidden, there is a tiny grain of hope. And these tiny grains of hope are Christ who is in each one of us, and in every part of creation. This Christ is hope.
In the image of the The Return of the Prodigal Son by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo we see the return of the errant son, and the darkness on the face of the envious son who remains. We also see abundant joy on the face of the father who has persisted in remnant hope and love.
This story is familiar to us and yet we benefit from reflecting with the words and the image.
Both sons of this loving father struggle – whether or not they physically or spiritually separate from him. Both want to inherit the Father’s gifts, both want to experience life and its joys . . . yet are they willing to be remnant? And are we?
Today we reflect on the meaning of remaining, the meaning of hope, and how we too often squander both of these gifts in our own lives.
Do we remain? Do we abide? Are we faithful? Do we offer God our constancy? Do we embody hope? Do we examine our motives and our conscience? Do we seek enablers in our lives or do we gather honest, authentic friends around us who love us enough to be careful mirrors?
We are imperfect creatures, framed by time and space. Our souls either languish or flourish. They rely on the food and drink we bring them. They burgeon with prayer. They wither when they lack Eucharist, Scripture and dialog with Christ.
Our innermost heart is our core which either collapses with neglect or flowers with grace. Our minds are fed by the images and words we select as most worthy of holding and remembering. Our bodies weary from their world journey, yet hum with joy when we nourish them well.
Being remnantis a difficult task. It makes the decision to return after waywardness. It makes the decision to strengthen its bonds even if it has remained.
Being remnant is an arduous task. It calls for holding on in the face of impossibility. It requires that we turn away from the hectic social demands on our time and space.
Being remnantis a beautiful gift. It demands that we make a refuge each moment of every day to reconnect with God. And it obliges us to look at Murillo’s painting to ask and answer the questions: Who am I? One of the Sons? The Forgiving Parent? The Obliging Servant? Am I Remnant? Am I Hope?
Adapted from a Favorite written on June 7, 2008.
We remember our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “Let us make three tents to contain the joy of God’s wisdom,” let us think instead, “Let us share the joy of God’s great gift of love”.
In this second of two parables using the vineyard as metaphor, Jesus addresses Temple leaders who attack him with a story, and then follows it with several pronouncements. He cites Psalm 118:22: The stone the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone;and then he acknowledges that many will indeed reject him. He refers to Isaiah 8:14-15: He shall be a snare, a stone for injury, a rock for stumbling to both the houses of Israel, a trap and a snare to those who dwell in Jerusalem; and many among them shall stumble; fallen and broken; snared and captured.
Jesus cautions religious leaders that apathy toward him is like standing in the way of a rock fall; he warns that opposition to him only leads to destruction. Jesus identifies himself as a stumbling stone that serves to bring down those who oppose him and at the same time serves to establish a foundation for our lives.
Rejection of Jesus is fatal. Indifference is deadly. So we welcome Jesus as a stumbling stone, a rock of salvation, a refuge of strength. This is the Good News we share with others today.
We remember our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “Let us make three tents to contain the joy of God’s wisdom,” let us think instead, “Let us share the joy of God’s great gift of love”.
Hendrick ter Brugghen: The Rich Man and the Poor Lazarus
The Lazarus in scripture whom we perhaps know well is the brother of Martha and Mary whom Jesus’ raises from the tomb in a prefiguring of his own resurrection. Today’s Lazarus is not this friend of Jesus but rather apoor man named covered with sores, [who] had been dumped on [a rich man’s] doorstep. All he lived for was to get a meal from scraps off the rich man’s table. His best friends were the dogs who came and licked his sores.
In death we see the reversal of their stations; the rich man suffers in hell while Lazarus finds himself in the lap of the patriarch Abraham. This inversion of status is one we might easily predict if we only read the Gospel with care. Jesus is constantly reminding us that the first will be last and the last first. And yet we easily – and frequently happily – ignore this teaching.
We make our Lenten journey to our Easter home and today’s words from Luke ask us to consider our station in the eternal world with more care than we examine our position and status in this world. In the hubbub and noise of modern society we are easily caught up in gaining, storing, achieving and making a mark. Yet here we see that we are wise to focus instead on nurturing, tending, healing and transforming ourselves and – with the gift of the Spirit – making Christ visible in a greedy and foggy world.
As we think about our status in God’s eternal kingdom, let us examine more closely how we bring this Gospel message into our temporal lives and how we share this message with others. Let us be more attentive to the little ordinary moments in each day that we ignore and so easily bypass. And rather than work so hard at ignoring the people and events that bring us discomfort, let us work instead to bring the beauty of God’s kingdom into fullness today.
We remember our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “Let us make three tents to contain the joy of God’s wisdom,” let us think instead, “Let us share the joy of God’s great gift of love”.