Looking forward to the end of Job’s story we have the choice of thinking that Job’s happy ending is the result of fantasy, or we may choose to believe that God abides and keeps promises. This choice to believe or doubt is entirely up to us; and I choose to believe that the story is not a fairy tale. I choose to believe that God abides.
THE MESSAGE translation of Job 40 begins with words from God, “I run the universe”. After we struggle with Job through his long story of loss and pain, we understand that although he – and we – long for specific answers to our specific questions, we must be content to rely on God’s goodness and love for us. We must be content to depend on God’s gift of hope and covenant. And we must be content to trust God’s steadfastness and mercy.
How do we do this? We have a model in Job whose fidelity through deep travail brings us a pearl of wisdom that we might employ to see our worries and anxieties through a lens of patience. Job’s persistence, as he journeys through the obstacle course of woe visited on him by Satan, gives us new eyes to refocus our own worldview.
When we spend time with Job 40, we have a fresh appreciation of his steadfastness; and we have a transformative moment to argue with the Almighty that opens us to the possibility of resurrection.
Today we use the scripture links and drop-down menus to help us argue with the Almighty.
Each time I revisit the Exodus story I puzzle over the fact that God makes Pharaoh obstinate. This seems, at first glance, to be such a childish way to show strength. God determines to set the stubborn Pharaoh as an opponent – which God can do because God is all-powerful. And so Pharaoh sets out with soldiers, horses and chariots
I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and he will pursue them, so that I will gain glory for myself over Pharaoh and all his army; and the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord.
There would be much less drama in the story of the Red Sea crossing if Pharaoh and his troops were not galloping after the lumbering tribes of Israel. The story would be much less memorable if great walls of water did not destroy the Egyptian cohort. And we would be much less tempted to apply the story to our own lives.
Scholars present various opinions on the accuracy of the Exodus story, but no matter their claims or evidence, we reflect on the accounting of a persistent nation longing to be free cast against a determined ruler who suddenly changes his mind. What does this accounting hold for us? Where do we see ourselves? And how much do we rely on the Lord when we are confronted by overwhelming obstacles?
Today we remember this ancient and familiar story as we find our own place in the tale. We are either the reckless pursuers or the holy faithful. We are either driven by obsession, or led by wisdom and hope. We are either blind followers of power, or seekers of freedom.
Does God call us to obstinacy to crash forward without thinking, or to cross the marsh while trusting in God’s wisdom? Today let us determine to set down our own story of untiring faith and profound hope.
We have sought consolation from paralysis, blindness and deafness. We have looked for peace when we are speechless or plagued by possession. Today we reflect on how we might seek comfort in the face of death or deep loss.
We know the stories of those Jesus raised from the dead while he walked among us as human: his friend Lazarus, the widow of Nain’s son, the synagogue leader Jairus’ daughter. We also know the story of how, through the intercession of the risen Christ, Peter brought Tabitha/Dorcas back from death, and Paul called back Eutychus. When we look at the Old Testament, we remember that Elijah restored life to the widow of Zarephath’s son, and Elisha to the Shunammite woman’s son. And perhaps most importantly, we know that Christ has the power to return each of us to eternal life once we leave this earthly one.
Henry Thomson: The Raising of Jairus’ Daughter
All of this reflection on restoration speaks to our desire to overcome death. It exemplifies our hope that deep loss is not permanent. And it resonates with our expectation that Christ’s love for each of us calls all of us to union with him . . . out of certain death and into certain life. In this holiest of seasons when we celebrate the coming of Jesus to the world, we return to one more story of restoration. The story of Tobit and Sarah.
I have always turned to this Book when I am in the middle of a hopeless situation, when the circumstances in which I find myself offer absolutely no anticipation of salvation for myself or for someone I hold dear. Each time I spend time with these verses, I come away refreshed by the themes the story offers: healing, restoration, desperate prayers made, and desperate prayers answered. There are soap-opera elements, cliff-hanging events. There are people focused on money, power and sex; yet, over all of these forces, love holds sway. And it is the only place in the Bible where Raphael is featured. He is, indeed, so important that the story cannot take place without him.
James Tissot: The Raising of the Son of the Widow of Nain
So why does this archangel visit these characters disguised as a traveler? How does he bring them hope, rebirth and transformation? What is the attitude of each character before God the Creator? And what might we take away from the lessons laid out here?
If we have time to read the whole of Tobit today, let us do so. If not, let us focus on Chapter 3. Tomorrow a Prayer for Death . . . and Birth.
Adapted from a reflection written during Advent 2007.
Be comforted, be comforted, my people, saith your God. Speak ye to the heart of Jerusalem, and call to her, for her evil is come to an end, her iniquity is forgiven; she hath received of the hand of the Lord double for all her sins. The voice of one crying in the desert: Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the wilderness the paths of our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low and the crooked shall become straight, and the rough ways plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh together shall see that the mouth of the Lord hath spoken . . . Behold the Lord God shall come with strength, and his arm shall rule. Behold his reward is with him and his work is before him. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and shall take them up on his bosom, and he himself shall carry them that are young . . .
From time to time we reflect on the ideas of exile and doom . . . today’s dawn brings consolation.
Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and weighed the heavens in his palm? Who has poised with three fingers the bulk of the earth, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?
After the darkness . . . comes the light . . . more revealing and more wonderful than we have ever imagined.
Do you not know? Hath it not been heard? Hath it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood the foundations of the earth? . . . And to whom have ye likened me, or made me equal? saith the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high, and see the one who has created these things . . . not one of them was missing.
The holy ones who wait and watch and witness . . . will receive their comfort . . . a consolation more intense and enduring than they have ever dreamed.
Youths shall faint and labor, and young men shall fall by infirmity. But they that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall take wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.
Last Christmas Day we read and reflected upon the beginning of Romans 11 in which St. Paul brings to us, God’s Remnant, the message of our creator’s Providenceand Fidelity. He reminds us that God understands the human condition and that he sends us his grace to overcome our fears and the darkness. God also understands rupture and the deepest places of the heart that suffer from the pain of disconnection and separation . . . and God wants to heal this . . . to call us back . . . to gather us in his arms. God wants to give us his Consolation.God is the Forgiving Father of the Prodigal Son story. We may be either the Straying Child who has spent his gifts carelessly, or the Remaining Child who is jealous and bitter at the Father’s generosity toward those who return. Or perhaps we have found a place where we can numb ourselves . . . remain aloof . . . protect ourselves from the suffering and undergoing of life that we are meant to experience. Or maybe we are Children of the Light . . . who struggle with self . . . who rise to the undergoing . . . who falter and stumble but who turn to God always as the first and last source and sustenance. Most likely we are all of these . . . and we do well when we reflect that our true Consolation rests in openness to reconciliation with God and with others. We do well to rely on God’s Providence and Fidelity and meditate on this idea, as we do on Christmas Day each year, that we are to be God to one another.
So on this Sunday of joy amidst darkness and waiting we, like God, are to abide with those who have broken faith with us. We are to remain faithful, remain present but without participating in any dysfunction. We are to be hopeful, to be open to the potential of something greater which God sends through his grace rather than our works. We are to abide withoutfear, because God is with us, especially in our moments of deepest terror. And we are to remain merciful, imitating Christ, because God always comes to his remnant, to those who wait, and hope and seek.
Blaise Nicolas Le Sueur: Solomon Before the Ark of the Covenant
Second Sunday of Advent, December 8, 2024
Vanity
This book was written not by Solomon as claimed, but by a writer who actually identifies himself “as a subject (4:13, 8:2, 9:14-16, 10:16-17 and 20), noting conditions of oppression (4:13), injustice (4:8, 5:8), and social upheaval (10:6-7). The language . . . is a late form of biblical Hebrew, coming closest of any Old Testament book to post-biblical Mishnaic Hebrew. The presence of Persian loan-words requires a date well after Israel’s release from exile in 539 B.C.E. Fragments of the book found among the Dead Sea Scrolls of the Qumran community date to the mid-second century B.C.E. Most scholars date the book’s composition between 300 and 200 B.C.E.” (Meeks 986) The Mishnah is a collection of oral literature of the early Hebrew people who appear to us as the first portion of the Torah.
We find the theme of this book laid out clearly in the first chapter: All is vanity that does not come from God. It does not take any time at all for us to put this reading into the context of our own lives. What does take some time is to determine what to do with this self-knowledge.
We have entered the season of Advent – an exciting, mysterious time in the liturgical calendar that we associate with a feeling of expectation – a time of promises and fulfillment. We in the northern hemisphere also associate this time of year with the coming on of darkness and cold; while in the southern hemisphere, Advent is experienced as a time of lengthening days and rising temperatures. I often think that the later is more apt. Warmth, light, ease of days, promise . . . Christ. The writer of Ecclesiastes tells us that all else besides a life that acts in this promiseis futile. As followers of Christ, our example of living in hope is paramount for ourselves, for our community, and for the greater world. We enact Christ when we put aside the vanity that we are all, and take on the understanding that The Promise is all.
As we move through this day and begin this week after spending a day or days of Thanksgiving for the bounty of the earth, we will want to pause to examine our spiritual bounty as well. Just as we examine our relationships with family and friends, we will also want to examine our relationship with the Creator, the Redeemer and the Comforter. We will want to unfold the miracle of this love so great that it overcomes all trials and injustices. We will want to allow ourselves to step into that which is not in vain. We will want to remember, we will want to trust, we will want to believe, we will want to hope.
We already know that there is nothing new under the sun . . . and so what we hope to experience is that which is new . . . that which is not in vain . . . and that which is worthy of every ounce of strength we have in body, mind and soul.
Like the audience of Ecclesiastes, we who have returned from exile will want to reunite in intimacy with our God and so we might try to spend more time this season with this book of wisdom, parsing out its verses to complement our days. In this way, we might hope to be full of God’s wisdom rather than our own, we might hope to live in God’s love rather than our own, and we might hope to be Christ rather than an empty vanity of vanities.
We have looked at the verses that precede and follow today’s citation, reflecting on friendship and betrayal, on constancy and convolution. Today we see Jonathan Maccabeus experiencing success as he follows the call of God. He is later betrayed, but his betrayer suffers a sad end. We might learn about the kind of patience needed for fidelity when we ponder this story; and we may better understand the need for fortitude and hope when we follow God’s call. Jonathan’s victory in today’s Noontimecomes from his faith in a God who does not abandon his creatures. Jonathan’s true triumph is not the battles he wins, but his commitment to the promise he has made to God. His true reward is not the fame of the battle won, but the serenity of knowing that all is best and all is well when our work is placed in God’s hands.
From today’s Evening Prayer in MAGNIFICAT:
Although you have not seen him you love him; even though you do not see him now yet you believe in him, you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy. 1 Peter 1:8
Whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ. It is not that I have already taken hold of it or have already attained perfect maturity, but I continue my pursuit in hope that I may possess it, since I have indeed been taken possession of by Christ. Philippians 3: 7, 12
Although Jonathan did not see God, he loved God and followed his calling, even to death.
Whatever gain or loss Jonathan had, he had in God.
May we too, be as constant and as hope-filled as Jonathan, even in the face of the greatest odds.
Cameron, Peter John. “Prayer for the Evening.” MAGNIFICAT. 16.11 (2010). Print.
Written on November 16, 2010 and posted today as a Favorite.
True hope differs from waiting in that it expects the impossible to become possible through our petition and in God’s action. Today we might reflect on a mirror image to hope and conversionthat we pondered yesterday: the juxtaposition of willingness and desire. It is this willingness – rather than our desire – that refines us as faithful. It is this willingness – and not mere desire – that marks us as God’s disciples.
But what might we gain, we ask ourselves, from being willing rather than willful?
Perhaps it is our willingness that God nurtures patiently, waiting for our readiness to participate fully in God through Christ. Perhaps it is this measure of willingness that indicates our full and ready understanding of who God is and why we are created in God’s image. Perhaps is it our willingness to withstand any difficulty, our determination to be disciples of Christ that signals our preparedness to believe that God can truly make all things possible. Do we desire to be with God but try to avoid all obstacles in our journey? Or are we willing to travel the road, despite its roadblocks, in full willingness?
As we read about Nehemiah warning against stepping into alien and pagan territory and relationships, we might remember the Good Samaritan parable told by Jesus. A man from Samaria, considered to be an outcast by the Jewish community, helps an injured traveler on the road to Jerusalem while the Levite, one who has special status in the Jewish community, keeps himself separate and pure. As we mature from our Old Testament self who seeks to merely understand God and enter into our New Testament self to seek union with God we leave our desire behind – and we enter into willingness.
We fully experience God’s presence when we give over our human desire of wishing for the end result through expedient or easy means, when we surrender our willfulness in order to become willing. But for this we need courage.
We genuinely live as God’s disciples when we cease asking for the easy route that has no brambles or pitfalls, when we take on the divine mantle of succumbing to the arduous journey of true willingness. But for this we need strength.
And so we pray . . .
Dear and gracious God,
We hope to rest constantly in you; grant us your readiness.
We desire to follow faithfully the way of Christ; grant us your eagerness.
We expect to hurdle all obstacles that would keep us from you; grant us your strength.
We hope to respond willingly to your call no matter how difficult the journey; grant us your courage.
We ask that you hold us close to you.
We ask that you keep us forever with you.
We ask that you grace us with your willingness.
We ask this in Christ’s name, in unity with the Holy Spirit. Amen.
How many times do we stumble after we agree to live out Christ’s Law of Love? Yet God forgives us because God loves us still.
Richard Rohr, OFM, writes, “Grace is the Divine Unmerited Generosity that is everywhere available, totally given, usually detected as such, and often undesired. Grace cannot be understood by any ledger of merits and demerits. It cannot be held to any patterns of buying, losing, earning, achieving, or manipulating, which is where, unfortunately, most of us live our lives. Grace is, quite literally, ‘for the taking’. It is God eternally giving away God – for nothing, except the giving itself. Quite simply, to experience grace you must stop all counting!” (Rohr 145)
In today’s Noontimewe hear the familiar words of the ancient Covenant Israel agreed to live out. In Nehemiah 10 we see the listing of all those who again agree to live the Law of Moses: priests, Levites, leaders, musicians, workers. Yet, history tells us their story of continual union, lapse, separation and return. It is the same tale we all live for we are creatures of God.
Jesus arrives to bring this law to all those both in and beyond the nation of Israel. This new Law of Love surprises many. Awes multitudes. Disappoints some. Today we have this same returning we see in Nehemiah 10 of the hopeless finding new hope, the broken encountering healing, and the abandoned entering a new home.
Once we stop counting, we find ourselves more open to the grace showered upon us. When we stop accumulating, we find ourselves more aware of the love that embodies us. On the day we stop judging, we find ourselves eager to enter the new covenant of the new law. Let us rejoice with those who sign the new agreement that is old, the new covenant that is eternal, the new Law that is our everlasting rescue.
Richard Rohr, OFM. A Spring Within Us: A Book of Daily Meditations. Albuquerque, NM: CAC Publishing, 2016.
Yesterday we reflected on Nehemiah’s exit from captivity and his arrival in Jerusalem. Today we pause to explore how Nehemiah begins the Lord’s restoration.
When Nehemiah arrives in Jerusalem, he rests three daysbefore he set[s] out at night with only a few other men.Three days, a few other men, apparent ruin, death and destruction, three days, restoration. Jesus fulfills the promise of restoration three days after his death.
Nehemiah had not spoken to anyone of his total plan for Jerusalem. He goes at night to investigate and when he does, the ruin is so complete that he has to dismount and continue on foot because there is too much rubble for his horse to traverse. He speaks to the magistrates and others of his plan and they reply: Let us be up and building! Those who have been left behind amid the bleak destruction respond to God’s call of hope which arrives with the administrator, Nehemiah. This is our season of Hope.
The hopeful are ridiculed and mocked by the aggressors; yet they maintain their newly found energy to rebuild. Nehemiah responds to the jeering: It is the God of Heaven who will grant us success. We, his servants, shall set about the rebuilding. They put their trustwhere it belongs – in God.
In a season that anticipates a time of Light and Hope, Restoration and Rebuilding, Turning and Returning to God, we have the opportunity to practice boldness in Christ Jesus. Let us respond to our Call together with the love of the Holy Spirit; and let us place our Trust in the one who most deserves that confidence, in God alone.
For with God all things are possible, even the gathering of the dispersed remnant from the farthest corners of the earth to be gathered into the promised dwelling place, the place of God’s name. For with God all things are possible, even resurrection after devastating and annihilating ruin to be gathered into the promised dwelling place, the place of God’s name.
For with God all things are possible, even the fulfillment of all of those dreams which seem so crazily and utterly hopeless to be gathered into the promised dwelling place, the place of God’s name.
For with God all things are possible, for this is the season of Hope. Amen.
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The Noontimes 