Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Christ’s Passion’

This week’s readings:

  1. Wisdom 2:12, 17–20
  2. Psalm 54:3–4, 5, 6–8
  3. James 3:16—4:3
  4. Mark 9:30–37

What this week’s readings say to me:

The first thing this week’s readings say to me is something I heard in the homily last week: (I paraphrase here, even though I’m putting the following in quotation marks): “Read all Scripture in light of Christ.” If I apply this instruction, Jesus Christ is “the just one” and “the wicked” are those who crucified Him (The New American Bible, Wisd. 2:12) It also characterizes “the wicked” as:

  • finding it extremely distasteful when someone else takes a stand against the self-serving things they do and voices opposition to these activities, holding them accountable and wanting their actions to reflect the good they’ve been taught to do
  • trying to trap the person who does justice, make that person look untrustworthy and to stop others from doing what he does and says
  • taking the name of God in vain, in a way, by talking about God as if their faith in God excused them from acting with justice themselves
  • Plotting to break the resolve of just one through violence and then justifying their actions by saying that God would spare him from this violence if, in fact, God were on his side.

The psalm is written from the perspective of a person of faith who strives to act with justice. It acknowledges the power of God — even the power of God’s name. It calls out to that power for help. The speaker is frank with God about the suffering he’s experiencing. But after talking to God about his suffering, he reminds himself that God “is [his] helper, by resolving to give of himself to God and to just causes, and to recall God’s faithfulness even in the midst of circumstances that tempt him to doubt.

The epistle gives answers as to what leads to the “wicked” behavior described in the first reading: “jealousy and selfish ambition” (Wisd. 2:12; Jas. 3:16).

Behavior that’s inspired by wisdom from above, on the other hand, is “first of all pure, then peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, without inconstancy or insincerity and the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace” (Jas. 3:17).

Conflicts great and small come from “passions” — selfish desires, the passage says (Jas. 4:1). The footnote on James 4:1-3 in The New American Bible Revised Edition says:

Passions: the Greek word here (literally, “pleasures”) does not indicate that pleasure is evil. Rather, as the text points out (Jas 4:2–3), it is the manner in which one deals with needs and desires that determines good or bad. The motivation for any action can be wrong, especially if one does not pray properly but seeks only selfish enjoyment.

In the Gospel passage, I see the apostles struggling with letting their “passions” get the better of them (Jas. 4:1). When Jesus tells them he “is to be handed over to man and they will kill him” (Mark 9:31). I imagine the apostles’ primary response to have been fear. Maybe doubt and discouragement joined the fear.

Maybe their desire to counteract these uncomfortable feelings tempts them to be jealous and selfishly ambitious. The passage tells us that after Jesus warns them that he won’t resist the violence of his opponents, and this lack of resistance will lead to his suffering and death, they discuss “among themselves…who is the greatest” (Mark 9:34). Jesus tells them that the one who is “the greatest” is the one who doesn’t wish or strive to be and instead serves everyone else, especially those who are humblest and most vulnerable.

What I’m saying (to the readings and beyond) this week:

I’ve heard or read most of the passages often enough that I accept their teachings as truth, even though my desires don’t always counteract what the first reading describes as “wicked[ness] (New American Bible, Wisd. 2:12). The first reading feels less familiar. It also uses the sharpest language. Maybe that’s why I reacted most strongly to it.

The passage prompts me to ask myself when someone rubs me the wrong way, why is that? Is he or she mirroring my flaws, and some part of me knows that? Sometimes that’s what’s going on.

Am I tempted to highlight or to bring out someone else’s flaws to avoid confronting my own flaws and to make me feel better about myself? Too often.

How often do I think of prayer as a substitute for doing something to solve a problem rather than as a way of discerning how I can take part in solutions? Sometimes – because I like comfort. I get extremely anxious about the cost of taking stands. At other times, the problems just seem too big, and I can’t see how to break them into small parts, to take part in the small steps.

Are my decisions based on wanting to be a minister of justice? What does being a minister of justice means to me? It means being fair and merciful, seeking to take part in righting wrongs. As I’ve written on this blog before, the quest to right wrongs must be about more than punishing the person who makes poor choices and harms others.

What someone else is sharing about this week’s readings:

While often translated as “betray,” the meaning of “to be handed over” [in the Gospel passage] can be understood—as one scripture scholar notes—“as the idea of God’s plan unfolding.”

Carolyn A. Wright in her reflection on the readings for September 22nd.

Ms. Wright explores what the way we translate that phrase means for our understanding of God and the roles in bringing about God’s vision.

This week’s prayer:

Lord, You know I’m neither totally wicked nor perfectly just. Thank You for allowing me and everyone around me to bear Your image. Grant us the grace to become better and better servant-leaders. Thank You for the servant-leaders among us, of which You are the foremost. Amen.

Works cited:

Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Inc. ” 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time — 22 Sept. 2024: Readings at Mass.” The New American Bible, 2001. Universalis for Windows, Version 2.192, Universalis Publishing Ltd., 30 July 2024, https://universalis.com/n-app-windows.htm.

The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

Read Full Post »

Photo by Grant Whitty on Unsplash

This week’s readings:

  1. Mark 11:1–10 John 12:12–16
  2. Isaiah 50:4–7
  3. Psalm 22:8–9, 17–18, 19–20, 23–24
  4. Philippians 2:6–11
  5. Mark 14:1—15:47

What this week’s readings say to me:

As I sit with these passages again this year, I find myself paraphrasing something my pastor said. It was in 2021, I think. He said that at various moments in our lives, we are every character in the passion story. I’ve been many of them. I’ve been open about my faith when I was in a crowd who made it easy to be open because they were being just as open. I’ve been silent about my faith when being open felt threatening — even just socially. I’ve asked God to get me out of a difficult situation, and God didn’t. I’ve said, “Thy will be done,” though I doubt I’ve ever been able to mean it without reservation as Jesus did.

Simon of Cyrene was “pressed into service” to help Jesus carry the cross (Mark 15:21). At most, I’ve been volunteered for some tasks I wouldn’t have chosen to do on my own. They were a lot less strenuous and my circumstances a lot less dangerous, yet I doubt I allow myself to be changed for the better as much as Simon must have allowed himself to be for his name to be remembered in accounts of Jesus’ passion (Matt.27:32; Mark 15:21; Luke 23:26). I’ve betrayed people in my life and been betrayed by them. I’ve thought that if God is real and cares about His children and His creation, why doesn’t He save them from harm in easily recognizable ways all the time? Why would he allow them to suffer? I’ve also been asked the same questions when I’ve undertaken something or accepted a circumstance, and someone else didn’t understand why. I’ve asked now and then why God has abandoned me.

I’ve never been accused and/or sentenced unjustly by anyone charged with enforcing laws, but too many people have been. So many others have stood by someone unjustly sentenced and/or condemned, just as the people at the foot of the cross did for Jesus.

In this week’s readings shows the power of knowing who we are and what our purpose is in pursuing a purpose, regardless of the cost of doing so. The path of learning who we are, of fulfilling that purpose, of sacrificing for it looks different for everyone.

For Jesus, this path meant giving of Himself again and again in prayer, teaching, feeding, and healing. The darkest part of his journey brought him every kind of suffering brought him death. Why did He surrender to suffering and death? Not because God required His suffering and death to save us, but because we required his suffering and death to bring us back into union with God. We walk away from that relationship. God doesn’t. In fact, He never stops pursuing a relationship with us. The cross was the ultimate example of that pursuit, of going after us as we are — in all our fears, doubts, greed, fickleness, cruelty, violence, and even in our mortality.

What someone else is sharing about this week’s readings:

Sheila Leocádia Pires reflects on Palm Sunday and the holy days that follow it.

Beyond this week’s readings:

Another reflection, “Jesus Did Not Die to Appease an Angry God,” even though it was published as a reflection on earlier Lenten readings, helps me make sense of this week’s readings in light of one core belief that’s been handed on to me — that God is love.

In the last few years, I’ve made my own the prospective on atonement and on the crucifixion that Fr. Terrance Klein expresses in the previous paragraph’s link. It’s been more than a week now since I first read his reflection, but I may have used some of his words in my reflection without realizing it. He explains so well, in my opinion, what I’ve wanted to communicate on this blog, but I never thought my way of communicating it made as much sense.

I hope you can access Fr. Klein’s reflection. I came across it on the website of America Magazine. I think viewing a certain number of articles on that website is free each month before the website invites visitors to subscribe to read more. I’ve tried to put this perspective into my own words at the end of the first section in case you are unable to read Fr. Klein’s words, but I hope you’ll be able to. If you are able to, I encourage you to do so. Fr Klein isn’t the only person I’ve encountered who offers this perspective or a similar one on atonement and the crucifixion, but his article is the one I have most recently encountered on the subject.

This perspective is important because it has the potential to recast who we say God is, what God does, and how God sees us. This perspective helps me see God as a rescuer and a healer, someone who wants to save us from what our own distorted vision, weaknesses and injustices do to us, rather than someone who punishes out of anger, jealousy, or a desire to exact revenge upon us for our lack of obedience. It’s a perspective on the relationship between God and humanity that has taken humanity time to develop. By using the word “develop,” I don’t tend to suggest that humans came up with it, but that each of us is on an ongoing journey to understand reality more fully and thus to know God better.

I also don’t mean to suggest that sins don’t matter to God. I think they matter to God precisely because God understands better than we do how sin hurts the sinner and others affected by the sin. It’s precisely because of this supreme understanding that God goes to battle with all of sin’s damage in the generations before Christ and during Christ’s conception, hidden life, ministry, and passion. God wills restorative justice.


Thank you, Lord for coming to rescue us by living a human life so You could be an example for us and could heal us through Your Divinity, Your human relationships with others, Your ministry, Your intercession, Your suffering, and Your death. Amen.

Work cited (but not linked to)

The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

Read Full Post »