The Freedom or Prison of Choice

Another reflection that I delivered today (4/10/2013). This version has some content added and modified.

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The readings may be found here. The readings are: Acts 5:17-26, Ps 34, John 3:16-21


 

The Sadduces, filled with jealousy, threw the Apostles in prison. We ought to ask ourselves who was really imprisoned.

At times we think it is pitiful to be poor, but the Lord hears the cry of the poor (cf. Psalm 34). The rich live in prisons of money, the prideful live in prisons of ambition, and the relativist lives in the prison of no boundaries.

“The powerful grow poor and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing” (Ps. 34:11)

“Blessed is the man who takes refuge in the Lord,” for that man is given true freedom. Upon reflection we discover that boundaries, rules, restrictions, and commandments were given to us not to restrict our freedom but to ensure it. At times these restrictions pain us, because restrictions cause tensions with our desires.

The one who believes that freedom is fulfilling every desire runs headlong towards a cliff and over, where there is no more freedom. The one who discerns the nature of his desires in light of God's help and His servant's teachings is able to say “yes” to this and “no” to that, preserving his life and developing it too.

Jesus is the “light of the world” (Jn 8:12) and He lights these commandments He's given us. While they do not burn as bright as He does, they are given as guides that keep us close to Him.

John tells us simply and plainly: “light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil” (Jn 3:20).

There are those who do not want to be told what to do, and thus they flee the Light and the smaller lights he has placed around us. We can ignore large commandments, but truly we can even ignore instruction in our own life of faith and even those concepts of Him we hold so dear. Shall the lights He's placed around us be where we gather or from where we flee?

The light, in the end, will expose our works, our thoughts, and our heart. Even if we are in error, this is not a cause for fear. Come to the light and you will know Him. Come to Him and you will freely choose Him.

The Bread of the Eucharist: A Bland Reality?

 Some may say, whether they are Catholic or not, "Why is the ‘wafer’ and the ‘host’ so bland?"

Perhaps instead of us thinking of the Church as being cheap, stupid, or boring we should look at the intentionality behind the act. The host being “bland” is symbolic. See that the bread is, for us, a sort of deprivation. It is not special, it does not have an exceptional flavor, and with respect to other foods it is bland. But this is exactly the comment that the Church wants to make about Christ: that he became flesh like us. In comparison to the divine our flesh is cheap, and fallible, and bland. This does not mean that that our flesh is “bad” just as this normal bread is not “bad.” Christ, however, by his graciousness took on our weak and fallen humanity to raise it up. We proclaim through our very bread that humanity is simple and lacking, but not bad—in fact the body may be used for holy work and sacred things.

The bread that we receive is not merely a symbol, but it is a symbol given to us for our benefit—it is meant by means of earthly concerns to direct our mind to heavenly truths. Christ adopted our humanity so that God might adopt us. He “took the form of a slave” (Philippians 2:7) which is to say he was unassuming, common, and everyday. Even the people at the synagogue doubted his power when they asked “Isn’t he the son of Joseph?” (cf. Mt 13:55, Jn 6:42) In his common estate, however, Jesus expressed the power of the Spirit by virtue of his obedience to the Father.

God, incarnate in common humanity, confounded those who would never believe that the body could be redeemed or divinized. To those who believe, however, the bread we have stands as a powerful comfort to us who are still pilgrims.

More powerfully, Christ left us the Eucharist so we might partake of him for our whole lives. The Body of the Sacrifice was resurrected so that we might make continual sacrifice to the Father and that it might be one sacrifice all the same. This is because the Body we offer to the Father is His own, and the Body we offer can never be destroyed or pass away. For “when he became perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (Heb 5:9). “Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said, “Take and eat; this is my body” (Mt 26:26). He did likewise with the cup, saying it was his blood.

The early Church herself attests to this reality. When Irenaeus wrote Against Heresies (circa 182 AD) the Eucharist was an important mark of the true Church:

The Church offers with single-mindedness, her gift is justly reckoned a pure sacrifice with God. ...[and we truly offer the first fruits of creation, that which is most loved] ... how can they [the heretics] say that [our] flesh, which is nourished with the body of the Lord and with His blood, goes to corruption, and does not partake of life? ... Our opinion is in accordance with the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn establishes our opinion. For we offer Him His own, announcing consistently the fellowship and union of the flesh and Spirit. For as the bread, which is produced from the earth, when it receives the invocation of God, is no longer common bread, but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and heavenly. (Book IV.18.iv-v)

Irenaeus of Lyon didn't treat it as if it were simple bread.

Indeed, the Gospel of Luke relates to us the power of this most precious treasure. As the men from Emmaus leave Jerusalem Jesus meets them. Jerusalem is the image of the heavenly city, it is the place where Christ proclaims himself the Temple and where he sacrificed himself. The cross stands there, and thus heaven through the cross. The men meet him and Jesus walks with them. Even Scripture is explained to them and their hearts are on fire, but they do not turn back. It is only when Jesus “was with them at table, [took bread], said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight” (Lk 24:30-31). Does it not seem strange that Christ should vanish? But in the end he did not vanish: “this is my body, this is my blood.” They set out at once back to Jerusalem to proclaim that “he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread” (24:35). Yes, not even Scripture revealed this to them, but the bread.

Recognize our savior in the breaking of the bread in new ways. Reflect not only on the spiritual truths, but what the physical experience of it all relates to us.

Did We Miss Something?

Reflection on Sunday's Readings (01/27/2013) Link

Ezra told the people “Do not be saddened this day, for rejoicing in the Lord must be your strength!” The people before Ezra had been scattered and abandoned for a time, but they had been reunited. Their heritage had been lost and their home was in ruins. Now, all of a sudden, they were back together and their greatest treasure, the law of the Lord, was being taught to them again. The people, filled with emotion, began to weep—perhaps they wept at what they had lost. Perhaps they wept because forsaking the law cost them their home. Whatever the reason Ezra and the other leaders urged them to eat good food and drink sweet drinks. Here we see that returning the word of God brought joy, but also sadness, to those who were present.

The Psalm today states that the law of the Lord “refreshes the soul” but the leaders of the people in the Old Testament needed to urge everyone to refresh themselves. Nehemiah and Ezra asked them to 'party', so to speak, in order feel the joy that they should be feeling. It's odd advice to tell someone to “be happy” after they've cried—have they just missed something?

We may also notice that the crowd gathered at the synagogue in today's Gospel reacted in a peculiar way. Luke recounts that Jesus was praised for his power and teaching. He stood up among those present and read from the prophet Isaiah where he proclaimed that this was a “year acceptable to our Lord," greater than the holy 'day' proclaimed by Ezra. As he sat back down everyone else sat in stunned silence. They maybe thought to themselves at the moment—“did we just miss something?” Jesus satisfies their curiosity by saying “this passage is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Both of the stories today continue beyond this point, but it's worth pointing out why we've decided to stop at these particular points in both. The Old Testament shows the fulfillment of the prophets: the people have returned to Jerusalem. The New Testament proclaims fulfillment from God to those who need Him most. 

These accounts both present the fulfillment of a message and a reason to be happy, yet both groups present are not happy. 

It is strange that neither of these groups are particularly happy. The Jews longed in their heart for the word of God. Scripture says that it was explained to them plainly. When they heard it, they wept. The children of Israel waited for a savior, one who would lift the burden from the oppressed. When they saw Him, they remained silent. It's not unlike us nearing the end of a good book and we don't want to finish because it would mean leaving that world. It seems that when their aspirations and innermost hopes were manifested before their eyes they acted as if they were looking for something else.

Some people have said that the 'journey is better than the destination,' but while the journey is necessary the destination is the reason for that journey. Scripture today relates to us that when our senses come into contact with God we hardly believe it—sometimes because it's too good to be true, as with the Old Testament, and so we doubt; other times it's too true to be real, as with Christ, and so we brush it off. Is the same true with the Eucharist? Has God really visited his people in simple bread and common wine?

Jesus coming into our life should be an occasion for happiness precisely because he comes to us in the smallest of things. It stands to reason that he comes to us in a great number of things beyond it. If we deny Christ who is present before our eyes, who are we looking for instead—what are we looking for? There are those who suffer here in each of our communities and those who struggle right in front of us. They are the people who are urged to be most happy because God is with them. They are looking for God in the smallest of things. Do you think they would doubt or fail to recognize Him when they saw Him, even if it was through you?

Those who consider themselves fulfilled know they really aren't, but they look for that one perfect thing to complete them. Those who are starved are thankful with the smallest amount. 

Scripture is perhaps telling us to be hungry. But then it tells us to eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks. What fulfills us is here to be experienced: the consolation of the poor, the joy of those who mourn, and Christ fully present. We must believe that this is true and that this will make us happy, otherwise we'll always be looking for something else. Don't miss it.