Sunday the Eighteenth

“Vanity (Hebrew, hevel) of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:2)!”

        Depending on the English translation of the Sacred Scriptures, the Hebrew word hevel (sorry, no Hebrew alphabet yet ... it is coming) is various translated as futility, vanity, worthlessness. The Hebrew root of hevel is related to “air” or “breath” but not in the same sense as the Hebrew word ruah. In Genesis for example, ruah hovers over the abyss preparing chaos to receive the effective word of God (dabar) that initiated an ongoing growth from chaos to order. Ruah is also the life-wind, the life-spirit that is breathed into “dust (adamah)” resulting in a living being, Adam.

        Hevel is “air” or “breath” in the sense of not being able to possess or capture. It is here. It is there. It is here today, gone tomorrow and there is nothing that humanity, alone or corporate, can do to definitely capture it to possess it permanently.

Sunday the Seventeenth

“Give us each day (ἐπιούσιον [epiousion]) our daily bread (Luke 11:3).”

          ἐπιούσιος, as noted by scholars, is a rare Greek word and appears only in the New Testament that means “sufficient for today” or “daily.” A quote from the Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 2837 is worth pondering:

          “Daily [ἐπιούσιος] occurs nowhere else in the New Testament. Taken in a temporal sense, this word is a pedagogical repetition of “this day,” to confirm us in trust “without reservation.” Taken in the qualitative sense, it signifies what is necessary for life, and more broadly every good thing sufficient for subsistence. Taken literally (epi-ousios: “super-essential”), it refers directly to the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ, the “medicine of immortality,” without which we have no life within us. Finally in this connection, its heavenly meaning is evident: “this day” is the Day of the Lord, the day of the feast of the kingdom, anticipated in the Eucharist that is already the foretaste of the kingdom to come. For this reason it is fitting for the Eucharistic liturgy to be celebrated each day.

          The Eucharist is our daily bread. the power belonging to this divine food makes it a bond of union. Its effect is then understood as unity, so that, gathered into his Body and made members of him, we may become what we receive.... This also is our daily bread: the readings you hear each day in church and the hymns you hear and sing. All these are necessities for our pilgrimage.

          The Father in heaven urges us, as children of heaven, to ask for the bread of heaven. [Christ] himself is the bread who, sown in the Virgin, raised up in the flesh, kneaded in the Passion, baked in the oven of the tomb, reserved in churches, brought to altars, furnishes the faithful each day with food from heaven.”

Sunday the Sixteenth

“Martha, burdened (περιεσπάτο [periespato]) with much serving, came to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me (Luke 10:40).””

     Anyone who has prepared a meal for another or others knows Martha’s plight. What adds injury to insult is that Jesus sides with Mary who, in Martha’s eyes, is doing nothing but listening to His words. A look at the Greek verb περισπάω will help to shed some insight.

     Jesus does not fault Martha for working. What concerns Jesus is how Martha is doing the work. περισπάω, translated in the New American Bible as burdened, conveyed in antiquity an approach to an activity that is distracted, non-attentive, going through the motions without care, occupied, troubled as well as accomplishing a task under a sense of obligation or compulsion.

     Accomplishing a task at hand, even an important one such as fixing a meal, is not an end in itself. In the light of Jesus, how the task is accomplished is equally important, if not more than the task itself.

     One may want to consider ways that we permit distraction to occur (talking with someone on the phone while typing on a keyboard, texting while driving, texting in a meeting, texting in a class, reading the Church bulletin during the homily, … and the list goes on!) Sadly, while we might accomplish a particular task, what is the price paid? In the end, working in the mode of περισπάω threatens the dignity of the worker as person and runs the risk of loosing the experience of the personal.

Sunday the Fifteenth

“But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion (ἐσπλαγχνίσθη) at the sight [Luke 10:33].”

           One often hears the words nice and kind associated with compassion. Certainly, compassion involves dimensions of niceness and kindness. The actions of the Samaritan traveler, however, exhibit more than an offer of casual amenities.

          The Greek word σπλαγχνίζομαι, often translated into English as compassion, is rooted in the vocabulary of ancient Greek medicine and is rather gastric, visceral and intestinal in usage. The noun σπλάγχνον is used to name not only innermost feelings and thoughts dear to the core of one’s existence, but also the entrails, innards, or intestines! The verb used in this Sunday’s pericope, σπλαγχνίζομαι, literally speaks about the Samaritan’s ‘innards moving’ when he came upon the man in the ditch.

          σπλαγχνίζομαι signals a sense of urgency to act and has an uncanny way of dispelling distractions to tend to the needs of the present moment. There is no time to permit reason or laziness to dictate postponing action to a later time, the mythical ‘next Monday,’ or worse still ‘once I get my act together.’ One’s gut has been altered in an unmistakeable way that a fellow human being needs help and needs it now. While messy, awkward and uncomfortable at times, it is a matter of life and death for both soul and body. 

Sunday the Fourteenth

“The harvest (θερισμὸς) is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest (θερισμοῦ) to send out laborers for his harvest (θερισμὸν)  [Luke 10: 2].”

          θερισμὸς, commonly translated harvest, has another interesting meaning in antiquity. Closely associated with the time to harvest or to reap, θερισμὸς can also be translated as summer-work or the work of summer time.

          An interesting twist on Jesus’ word sending the disciples out on mission might be to examine, ‘what is the summer time work Jesus sends us to do?’

          Since this Sunday falls in the midst of summer time and the Fourth of July civil holiday, the homilist might consider that a work of summer time involves being outdoors with many people. As we are with one another, what words do we speak on these summer days; words of encouragement, support and compassion or words of slander, gossip, and complaint? Many on the beach, around the pool, on the deck, or in the mountains enjoy a good leisurely read outside. Among the books we read, is there any reading that nourishes and fortifies the soul?