Galilean “Rite of Acceptance”
After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. ‘The time has come’ he said ‘and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.’
As he was walking along by the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net in the lake – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you into fishers of people.’ And at once they left their nets and followed him.
Going on a little further, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they too were in their boat, mending their nets. He called them at once and, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the men he employed, they went after him. (Mark 1:14-20 - Gospel of the 3rd Sunday Year B)
This moment of “acceptance” takes place on the shore, not in a church. Jesus leads it with his own words that challenge and expand the vision of all four men: use your skills and experience to pull drowning people from the sea of chaos and destruction... Follow me! The word penetrates the mundane reality (sternly overcast by the arrest of John) with a promise of joy and fulfilment – a true presentation of the Good News. And close friends and family are quietly present to witness the life changing commitment of these four men to accept the gospel in the person of Jesus. By doing that, they place themselves under the sign of the cross too.
We know nothing about the brothers’ period of “precatechumenate” from this Gospel. Had they ever encountered Jesus before he called them? The Gospel of John suggests so[1]. Had they listened to his call to repentance and faith? Possibly only to John's. However, their names are now well “registered” (Simon, Andrew, James and John) as part of the Good News – as are the names of catechumens after the rite of acceptance[2]. From now on they are all part of the household of Christ[3]. Now, when they made a public and decisive step of leaving everything and following Jesus, the disciples are embarking on their own period of “catechumenate”. A period of being with and echoing the Word made flesh deep in their being, and of mirroring Jesus’ attitudes and actions as closely as the Spirit makes possible.
How do we know when people are ready to move to the catechumenate? We need to look just as Jesus did. The time is ready when they demonstrate stirrings of faith and repentance, the beginnings of spiritual life based on prayer, and a growing sense of community and the church[4]. We need those “outward indications”[5] of people’s dispositions because they demonstrate a subtle process of change…and no one who has met God face to face remains unchanged! Nor should we...
Christ the Shepherd King
This reflection is mainly for the RCIA leaders. We guide others on their path of formation and transformation, and the first reading from this year’s feast of Christ the King is a wonderful opportunity to reflect on our practice. All RCIA leaders need to learn about – as well as from – the supreme Shepherd so as to discern how to guide the “flock” entrusted to them. We will look at the actions and attitudes of the shepherd in Ezekiel 34:11-112, 15-17.
God is deciding to take over from the shepherds of Israel. Stepping in because of their negligence and greed, he is taking over his own flock. He is going to be vigilant, keeping a careful watch. No wonder we celebrate the Easter Vigil, the mother of all vigils, as a blueprint of this heartfelt involvement. To have all sheep in view requires lots of alertness and conscious movement, but most of all, one’s compassionate interest. Here we can stop and ask ourselves: how much am I really interested in the people in my RCIA group beyond the meetings? And how well do I keep all of them in view?
The beautiful image of a shepherd standing in the middle of his flock so as to see all is next. There is a certain weight and gravity about it. This is perhaps something we constantly need to learn to do, as well as to recognise and point out. In other words, we need to be flexible and constantly move with the moving flock so as to keep this “middle ground” of neutrality, good perspective and clear vision. Yet we also need to learn to recognise and bring to people’s consciousness the Good Shepherd who is always standing attentively in our midst, wherever we are on our journey. Whether we know it or not, Christ is always this reference point from our birth to death – and beyond. So the next question can be: where do I stand, and where is the place of Christ in the RCIA process that I lead?
And then comes the rescuing. Of course, God does all of it – but often by using our own lives, gifts and resources. Interestingly, the sheep are scattered only when the conditions spell out poor vision: in the mist and darkness. Baptism is the sacrament of illumination par exellence. Yet even on the way to it, the light of Christ often comes through the fellow pilgrims and dispels the power of darkness. Just like our candles do at Easter Vigil when they are lit - first from the Paschal candle, but also from one another. So how do I encourage, respect and foster everyone’s “glow”?
The provision of rest comes next. Pointing out where to rest is God’s prerogative – it is the Lord who speaks – but we can assist those sacred moments of rejuvenation by taking prayer and liturgy seriously. So seriously that it becomes an occasion of authentic peace, childlike wonder or intimate delight. How can we make prayer become a real stepping stone to a life lived to the full?
And then comes the searching, bringing back, bandaging, strengthening, watching over… Notice that each activity matches the need perfectly: the shepherd does not bandage healthy animals! So what are the needs of each individual in my flock? And do I respond to them appropriately? And finally, do I really watch over the “fat and healthy” stock as well? Or do I assume that there is no risk of injury on the way just because they always seem fine?
Let’s learn all those shepherding skills from the Good Shepherd whose loving gaze has been resting on us, and on the people in our care, all our lives.
“You are the salt of the earth…” Yes, but how?
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Well, have you noticed how salt improves the taste of the food that comes into contact with it? In the right amount of course, salt somehow makes the food more interesting; it brings out its characteristic flavour. So what is the particular gift, trait or value in us, in me, that brings out the best in my environment? And where around me is the taste bland, boring or lacking that pleasant “something” – a clear sign that the Gospel is missing? Or am I just safely clustering around the other “bits” of salt, the other Christians, creating salty “rocks” that are too big a dose for any regular consumption? The world longs for our “pinch of salt” - in moderation, but also in generosity…
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With salt in our diet, lots of things transpire. Salt makes people thirsty for example. But thirst is a good starting point for anyone looking for living water. It motivates and drives people to quench their need. So which elements of my life make people around me thirsty “for more”?
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Salt is also an ancient food preservative; it prolongs the sell-by date of meat by fending off the rot. Equally, our faith and the gift of our relationship with Christ can preserve “the flesh” in a confident hope of resurrection. This can be contagious too, despite the hardships we face. Our “saltiness” in season and out of season can enable those around us to pluck up courage and dare to hope for some meaning in the midst of various crises, pain, sin or suffering. In fact, even our tears are full of salt…
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Salt is occasionally used to thaw ice on roads. Similarly, we are called to warm the hardened hearts locked in fear, selfishness, anger or lack of forgiveness. Thus our “saltiness” can help to clear the path to God. However, this undoubtedly means getting “out there”, into the frozen conditions of our cultures, transforming them into safer places. And risking the resulting “melt-down” that binds us irrevocably together. Formerly two different materials, salt and ice, dissolve slowly into a single substance of salty water. Indeed, in Christ all can become one… but only if no one remains the same.
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Unsurprisingly, salt without its salty “edge” loses its purpose. In the same way, when we lose our integrity as Christians, we need “re-salination”. We need to regain that taste of eternity which God has engraved in us. For it is the internal structure of the atoms of salt that makes it taste salty. Equally, the very pattern of Christ in us gives us the unmistakable flavour of God’s children. We are the salt of the earth if we live out of this deep mystery dwelling inside us...
Second Sunday of Advent (Matthew 3:1-12)
"In due course John the Baptist appeared..."
It is amazing how God sends his people “in due course”. This fills me with hope – especially when I realise that the blank page that divides the old and new testaments in our bibles has a “value” of some 400 years’ silence and hunger for the word of God… It took God only about 400 years to send John the Baptist after the last prophet before him - so why should we get impatient when some “church things” are taking a bit longer than we anticipated? And equally, if John the Baptist hadn’t recognised the “due course” and responded, we would have been living a very different “now”. But thanks be to God, he did and:
"...he preached in the wilderness of Judaea..."
Or more precisely, in the wilderness at the far side of Jordan (John 1:28; 10:40). But why is this son of a priest (Luke 1:5-25) hanging around in the desert instead of serving God in the Temple? Why is he “out there,” in the barren land just behind affluent Jericho, far from the main focal point of the religion of his time? Perhaps because the river Jordan is a natural boundary and there is something about being immersed in it by another human being that brings home the striking message of John…
The Israelites crossed the river Jordan under the lead of Joshua (which we could equally transcribe as “Jesus”) in order to reach the Promised Land (Josh 3:15-17); and Elijah would cross the same river also dry-shod before he ascended into heaven in a chariot of fire (2 Kings 2:11), making room for a double portion of his spirit in Elisha (2 Kings 2:9). So is John telling people that they first of all need to retreat from the known religious “landscape” in order to wholeheartedly re-enter the Promised Land with full and conscious commitment? Is he telling them that by doing so they will iron out the path for Elijah’s doubly-zealous spirit to rest on them in the baptism of fire that was to come?
"...and this was his message: ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand.’"
Certainly, something amazing is about to happen… Like the dust stirred on the horizon by the hoofs and wheels of a king’s carriage, the certainty of God’s reign drawing near is almost tangible - and so people cannot go about their business as usual. How invigorating it would be if such a sense of expectation and urgency could soak our Advent time like the water must have soaked the garments of those seeking John’s baptism... What is more, even Jesus was happy to preach this is message (Mt 4:17) after the arrest of John.
"This was the man the prophet Isaiah spoke of when he said:
A voice cries in the wilderness: Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight."
This is a quote from the Second Isaiah which was originally addresses to the Jews who had been exiled to Babylon after Jerusalem fell in the 6BC. This was the in-between time when the First Temple was already destroyed and the Second one was waiting yet to be built. Therefore the restored connection between God and his people required a “highway” at that moment in time, a straight path of communication that allowed for the “flow” of God’s presence into human history. And once again a “divine highway surveyor” enters the scene of human history to mark out the path in the wilderness.
"This man John wore a garment made of camel-hair with a leather belt round his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey."
In a certain sense, John the Baptist reminds me of a hippo… Quite a grotesque creature out in the open - but extremely dangerous, especially when plunged in its element. He is cut as a prophet in his camel-hair outfit and leather belt accessory (2 Kings 1:8), feeding on a radical diet of clean (Leviticus 11:21, 22), wholesome and providential food. He thus walks in the footsteps of Samson, Samuel and Elijah. No wonder he attracts some curious attention. In fact, he is a magnet that pulls the whole region into a movement towards the most significant river in his people’s history: the river Jordan.
"Then Jerusalem and all Judaea and the whole Jordan district made their way to him, and as they were baptised by him in the river Jordan they confessed their sins."
So why is it that John often gets just a cursory glance from us? Why is it that we often overlook the fact that he was such a powerful magnet that he drew even Jesus out of his “hidden” life into the “public ministry” as his call echoed “righteousness” in the heart of the Son of God (Mt 21:23-27 & Mt 3:15)? It is perhaps because the realm of water is where John becomes dangerous…and that is perhaps something that does not sit easily with us because the font of baptism contains water too. At any rate, John turns out to be a “wild beast,” defending the territory marked out for God from any sinister trespasser:
"But when he saw a number of Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism he said to them, ‘Brood of vipers, who warned you to fly from the retribution that is coming? But if you are repentant, produce the appropriate fruit, and do not presume to tell yourselves, “We have Abraham for our father,” because, I tell you, God can raise children for Abraham from these stones. Even now the axe is laid to the roots of the trees, so that any tree which fails to produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown on the fire. I baptise you in water for repentance, but the one who follows me is more powerful than I am, and I am not fit to carry his sandals; he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing-fan is in his hand; he will clear his threshing-floor and gather his wheat into the barn; but the chaff he will burn in a fire that will never go out.’"
And maybe John is not so far off the mark when he claims that God can raise Abraham’s children even from stones. There is a master-builder coming soon, known as the carpenter’s son (Mt 13:55) – where carpenter (tekton) means also a stone mason or builder. He will also refer to himself as a cornerstone by the words of Psalm 118 (Mt 21: 42-43), and he will be on an outrageous mission to build a new temple (Jn 2:19). So perhaps the most pertinent question is: do I let myself be chiselled by the master builder this week?