Sunday, the Third of Lent: Scrutiny I

     Why is a Rite of the Church termed scrutiny? This week’s reflection focuses on the characteristic Lenten liturgies for the Elect.

     I recently asked a group of undergraduate students what struck them when they heard the word scrutiny. They did not have good things to say. Common among many of their responses was the image of being ‘put under the magnifying glass.’ All of one’s actions are looked at intensely and it did not stop there. Many commented that scrutiny suggests examining motives and reasons for a particular thought, word or deed. One student commented, “I don’t know why I say or do many of the things I do and I certainly don’t want someone looking over my shoulder giving me reasons for my thoughts or actions.”

    Linguists suggest that two Latin words ground the English meaning of the word scrutiny: scrutari and scruta. Some ‘searching’ in musty lexicons of antiquity suggest that scrutari consists of ‘investigating’ or ‘examining.’ Scruta, as it appears in that same yellow-paged volume, can mean ‘broken items’ or ‘stuff to be trashed.’ Together, scrutari and scruta offer us insight into what the Liturgical Rite termed Scrutiny is all about. One might look at the Church’s Scrutinies as ‘investigating or examining the stuff of our lives that needs to be trashed.’

Sunday, the Second of Lent

“Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother,  and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured (μετεμορφώθη, metemorphothe) before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. (Matthew 17: 1-3).”

TRANSFIGURATION MOUNT, Northern Israel

     The Greek verb μεταμορφόω (metamorphoo) not only means “to change,” but a change that involves a clear altering of form perceptible to the senses. Such makes sense in this episode atop the mountain. As far as the disciples are concerned, Jesus’ form appeared to change. To the disciples, He looked different. However, it is worth pausing here to ask a question: who changed, Jesus or the disciples?

     Fr Jean Corbon OP penned: “The transfiguration of the Word gives a glimpse of the fullness of what the Word inaugurated in His Incarnation and manifested after His baptism by His miracles: namely, the truth that the body of the Lord Jesus is the sacrament that gives the life of God to men. When our humanity consents without reserve to be united to the humanity of Jesus, it will share the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4); it will be divinized. Since the whole meaning of the economy of salvation is concentrated here, it is understandable that the liturgy should be the fulfillment of the economy. The divinization of men will come through sharing in the body of Christ (Jean Corbon OP, The Wellspring of Worship, pages 94-95).” In this vein, the disciples - through grace - changed (or were transfigured) as they were able, at that moment, to glimpse the reality of Who Jesus is.
     The Catechism of the Catholic Church continues this insight: “On the threshold of the public life: the baptism; on the threshold of the Passover: the Transfiguration. Jesus’ baptism proclaimed “the mystery of the first regeneration,” namely, our Baptism; the Transfiguration “is the sacrament of the second regeneration:” our own Resurrection. From now on we share in the Lord’s Resurrection through the Spirit who acts in the sacraments of the Body of Christ. The Transfiguration gives us a foretaste of Christ’s glorious coming, when he “will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body.” But it also recalls that “it is through many persecutions that we must enter the kingdom of God (paragraph 556).”
     While the Feast of the Transfiguration is celebrated each year on 6 August, the episode is most appropriate in a season of intense preparation and purification for Baptism. Jesus’ Transfiguration shines Who He is upon all humanity calling humanity to transformation (transfiguration) in this life now by living a morality of renewed mind and heart resulting in a perceptible experience of who we are in Christ.

Sunday, the First of Lent

“At that time Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert (ἔρημον, eremon) to be tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:1).”

     Israel knew the importance of the ἔρημος (eremos). Entrance into the Promised Land necessitated a journey through a most hostile terrain that tested their resolve with every step onto and into the burning hot sand. Memories of tyranny and of oppression seemed distant and miniscule compared with the challenge posed by the present struggle to live in the hostile desert environment. There were even points along the way when the people wanted to return to Egypt. Fondly, they remembered a culinary delight of fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic (see Numbers 11:5). One could hardly blame them for wanting a little spice, variety and even garlic for their new, seemingly bland diet of manna and quail. Yet their initial experience in the desert did something that they never thought possible: slavery in Egypt actually looked good compared to the present testing. What happened to cause such a perception shift?

    Rabbi Abraham Heschel has remarked often that Israel’s great sin in the desert was not idolatry but rather ‘forgetting the great and mighty deeds of God.’ This forgetfulness is not a matter of misplacing the keys or of drawing a blank on a test. Biblical forgetfulness is a ‘disconnect’ an ‘un-membering of oneself from the source of life.’ This is why the biblical and liturgical action of memory/remembrance is important. Zakar (Hebrew) and anamnesis (Greek) are about memory, but an experience of memory that goes beyond mere intellectual recall. Biblical memory is about ‘being re-membered to the source of life,’ it is about being ‘re-joined to the body that provides the essentials for living.’

     This is why Jesus’ actions in the ἔρημος are important for us at the beginning of a season that is first and foremost about the Elect’s intense preparation for Baptism. Among the many dimensions of the Initiation Experience, humanity is ‘joined to,’ ‘re-membered in a wholly new and creative manner to the One Who is the source of all life.’ At no time in the desert does Jesus glamorize or romanticize His pre-desert life. In the midst of testings that equipped Him to proclaim the Father’s Kingdom in all of its richness and power, Jesus is the One Who continuously remembered His source of life. He experienced - and calls us to experience as well - that authentic living is found not in what we consider essential, important or necessary. Genuine living is lived in relationship with the One we call upon as “Our Father.”

Sunday the Ninth

“Take these words of mine into your heart and soul. Bind (Hebrew, קשר [qashar]) them at your wrist as a sign, and let them be a pendant on your forehead (Deuteronomy 11:18).”

     As the Liturgical calendar unfolds, we have been treated this year to an entire proclaiming and listening to Jesus’ teaching on Kingdom living known as the “Sermon on the Mount.” After weeks of comfort (“Blessed are ...”) and weeks of challenge (“But I say to you ...”), what is the believer left to do? We are instructed at the end of the Sermon “to listen” and “to act,” actions that in-flesh Moses’ command “קשר [qashar, ‘to bind’] Deuteronomy 11:18.”

     The Hebrew verb קשר presents vivid images of “tying down” as well as “girding tightly.” This is the biblical basis for the Jewish practice of tefillin which Jesus addresses in His Public Ministry (Matthew 23:5. Phylactery (Greek) is the translation of the Hebrew tefillin). The tefillin consists of a small, leather-type box or envelope that is “tied” or “bound” on the wrist and forehead. Contained in this leather-type box or envelope is the Word of God, meant to be a reminder of God’s presence to oneself (on the wrist) and a reminder to others (on the forehead).

This constant reminder of God’s presence that one is bound to is intended to help one live the spiritual life of the covenant.

     It has become popular in American society to refer to oneself as ‘spiritual, but not religious.’ No doubt scandals in and among ‘religious’ institutions have fueled the attempt to keep the spiritual and distance oneself from actions that work against the Spirit in the name of religion. However, authentic spirituality necessarily involves a ‘binding to’ and authentic religion involves living spiritually. Kingdom living, as pronounced by Jesus in the Sermon, is not a matter of spirituality against religion, but a spirituality that is religious, and a religion that is spiritual.

Sunday the Eighth

“But seek first the kingdom of God (τὴν βασιλείαν [τοῦ θεοῦ], ten basileia tou Theou) and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides (Matthew 6:33).”

     What is the Kingdom of God? Where is the Kingdom of God? Who is the Kingdom of God? The list of questions can continue into eternity, not to mention the scholarly opining attempting a clear definition. Additional confusion clouds matters when reference is made to the “Kingdom of Heaven,” a phrase often found in the Matthean Gospel perhaps due to respect for the Divine Name among the original Jewish-Christian audience.

     The Greek word βασιλεία (basileia) is not so much about a temporal place as it is about a way of living. As used in the Greco-Roman world of Jesus’ day, βασιλεία conveyed an active experience of ruling. People, especially those living in Roman occupied territories KNEW exactly what a βασιλεία was all about. The Roman Kingdom was about exacting tax and lording authority over all, especially the poor and the marginalized. It is for this reason that Jesus’ proclaiming of the Father’s βασιλεία is so revolutionary. Abusive power, whether wielded by some civil authorities of Rome or some religious authorities of Jerusalem, had now met its match and more: its Conqueror.

     Thus Jesus’ command to “seek first the Kingdom of God” is not about packing up and moving, it is about embracing a new way of living. It is a way of living that asks each to examine closely how power is used, especially in regard to other people - AND - most especially in regard to the poor and marginalized of society. 

Employing some of Jesus’ practical advice in His last discourse in the Gospel according to Matthew [(25:31-45) also known as the “Corporal Works of Mercy”] is a marvelous starting point for experiencing the βασιλεία as a way of living.

Sunday the Twenty-second

“On a sabbath he went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully (παρατηρούμενοι, parateroumenoi) [Luke 14:1].” “He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing (ἐπέχων, epechon) how they were choosing the places of honor at the table. [Luke 14:7].”

     There is much watching happening in “the home of one of the leading Pharisees.” People were observing Jesus carefully and Jesus was noticing how people “were choosing the places of honor at the table.” One might say that “those who had been invited,” in the way they were observing Jesus, paid no attention to they way they were looking for the places of honor. How they chose their places caused Jesus to speak a parable.

     One might argue that the manner of the guests observing Jesus blinded them to their own actions. Among the varied meanings that παρατερέω conveys in English, “lurking” and “spying” are worthy of consideration in this episode. “Those who had been invited” were lurking, lying-in-wait for the moment to pounce on Jesus for any action that they judged improper. With such attention devoted to an intense spying whose only intent is to accentuate the perceived wrong, the guests were oblivious to their own improper behavior.

     Jesus’ wisdom commands that when we harness the powers of observation looking only to point out a perceived wrong, an honest examination of the reflection in a mirror just might dissipate the negative energy. When we gaze honestly at the image in the mirror, the perceived faults of another pale in comparison to what each of us knows as our own shortcomings. Instead of “lying-in-wait” to let another know her or his shortcomings, a word of grateful encouragement to the other transforms the evil of divisiveness into the grace of unity.

Sunday the Twenty-first

“Go out to all the world and tell the Good News (εὐαγγέλιον, [euaggelion]) Mark 16:15.”

     Many who have heard the word Gospel instinctively hold that it means ‘good news.’ Such a translation is quite accurate in terms of the rendering Gospel into English. The difficulty arises when a follow-up question is posed, ‘what constitutes Good News?’ There are many situations in life when a word, a call, a note convey good news as a resolution and relief to a troubling life event and often an event that is life threatening. But does εὐαγγέλιον have a more specific meaning when used in Sacred Scripture?

     In the days of the Old Testament and in the days of Alexander the Great’s (+323 BC) conquest of the world, εὐαγγέλιον appears to have had a somewhat restricted use in its meaning and use, anchored in the world of military victory. When a messenger brought an εὐαγγέλιον to a particular town or village, people knew that news of victory was about to be announced. Even if people did not know that a war had been fought, an εὐαγγέλιον indicated that not only was a war fought, we are numbered among the victors.

     Saint Paul made ample use of this cultural knowledge in his proclamation of Jesus Christ, the crucified Lord risen to new life, the Victor over sin and death. As far as Saint Paul was concerned in the time of his ministry, Jesus battled the war against sin and death and was, is and will be forever victorious.

     When Texts emerge in the latter part of the first century bearing the appellations Mark, Matthew, Luke and John, the written εὐαγγέλιον probes questions of Christology (Who is Jesus?) and Discipleship (How do I and we follow Jesus?) under the umbrella of Jesus’ victorious work over sin and death.

     The gift of the written εὐαγγέλιον - all four of them - is a treasured grace for daily living. Knowing Jesus as Victor is the blessing of confidence in the face of life’s uncertainties.

Assumption of Mary, Mother of God

“During those days Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste (σπουδῆς [spoudes]) to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-40).”
     An 82 or so mile trip from Nazareth to the hill country of Ain Karem would have been a challenge under any circumstance (Even today, many people are out of breath when the trek up ‘the hill’ that brings them to the house of Elizabeth and Zechariah.). Add young, poor and pregnant to the mix and one might reconsider the trip not to mention that Mary goes in haste (σπουδῆς [spoudes])!
     Similar to so many events in Mary’s life, the Mother of the Savior also acts as the preeminent teacher providing lesson after lesson about how we can be a disciple of her Son. Mary’s travel “in haste” speaks not only about speed and an anti-procrastinating mindset, the Greek verb σπουδάζω (spoudazo) conveys an “attitude of zeal” and “concern for the importance of the moment.”
     Mary’s mode of travel gives the contemporary believer much to ponder. Zealous attentiveness to the sacrament of the present moment is the place and time of the Lord’s visitation. No matter the motivation or reason for waiting to get one's act together apart from the Gift of Grace or simply wait for no reason whatsoever, the Mother of God beckons us ‘to see’ now as the moment of the Lord’s visit Who will fill all with the same joy that caused John to leap in his mother’s womb.

Sunday the Nineteenth

“Faith (πίστις [pistis]) is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen (Heb 11:1).”
There are, no doubt, as many descriptions of faith as there are believers. It is not uncommon for believers to use the term faith as an answer for all things humanly unexplainable in reference to the Divine. Used this way, faith often shuts down discussion and inquiry. For example, engage one in a discussion on the Most Holy Trinity or Most Holy Eucharist and it will not be long before the word faith is used because human intellect has reached an impasse.
Throughout both Testaments of Sacred Scripture, faith has another purpose. It is the word that simply, yet powerfully, describes a relationship: a relationship initiated by the Father drawing each person into communion with Him through the saving death and resurrection of Jesus His Son and Holy Spirit. This biblical experience of faith emphasizes the dynamic character of life. The realities and mysteries of God are not topics to be figured out, diagramed and reduced to 3 bullets on a PowerPoint presentation. Rather, faith describes how we live in response to a Love that is infinite and eternal.

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.