19th Sunday; OT 2019

From time to time the subject of faith pops up in coversation and I hear someone say, “I just can’t say I believe it all. I want to. And I try to be good, do good. But I just don’t know if I really have faith.” I remember in high school, I wasn’t sure either, so I made an appointment to talk to our priest, who said, “Faith is a gift, abgrace given by God. Not everyone is given the gift.” I was crushed, what, the Lord decided not to give me any faith? You got it or you don’t? Talk about haves and have-nots, but maybe that’s a consumer-society spin and not the Lord’s perception or intention. 

What strikes me as I ponder and pray about Sunday’s readings is what the word faith lacks … it has no verb form. Faith is only a noun. We can’t be caught faithing, nor have we faithed in the past. Given the emphasis in scripture on God’s creative movement in the world, the Holy Spirit’s power to animate, and Jesus’ saving actions through the Passion, the word seems inaccurately flat and inactive. 

The word faith, if followed back to its earliest form, comes from the Proto-Indo-European word bheidh meaning to trust, confide, persuade. This suggests, by default, if I have faith I should have confidence and be capable of persuading others to believe as I do. A bit daunting; easy to fail at such a task and doubt one’s strength of conviction. 

The word belief (bileave) is similar, confidence reposed in a person or thing; faith in a religion. It replaced the Old English word geleafa, stemming from a root word meaning to care, desire, love, and a prefix which acted as an intensifier. Caring and loving an idea or understanding dearly and intensely is something we do and intuitively, is a bit more in line with the passionate creativity of the Lord. The word trust or traust, a conceptual cousin from Old Norse and Proto-Germanic means help and confidence, protection and support, comfort and consolation. 

Walking around these synonyms for the word faith suggest new questions, leading me to ask myself, do I trust God to protect, care for and comfort me? Do I share His Word and the doctrine to help and console others? Do I protect this doctrine, this Word which I say I have faith in and believe? Do I care about, love and desire it to be true? Do I live as if it is true?

Geleafa and traust — helping and protecting, loving and caring deeply, comforting and consoling — are actions which the Lord performs for His people, and which we are called on to do for others. But that’s not all; we must do the same for the doctrine and Word as well.

 

Reflection Questions:

    • Do I trust God to protect, help and comfort me? 
    • Do I share His Word and doctrine to comfort and console others? Do I protect this doctrine, this Word, that I say I have faith in and believe? 
    • Do I care about, love and desire it to be true? Do I live as if it is true?

 

References:

Online Etymology Dictionary, Douglas Harper. 2001-2019. Accessed on 8/11/19 for the origins of the words faith, hope, trust, belief.

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

Fourth Sunday in Lent 2019

Three stand-alone explorations sprung forth from the parable of the prodigal son and on notions of home

 

Thought 1: The Prodigals

The Prodigal Son is referred to as such because, as the first definition of the word prodigal indicates, he has recklessly and wastefully squandered his share of the inheritance. He returns home, but we do not call him the Homecoming Son. He confesses to his father, “I have sinned against Heaven and against you,” but we do not call him the Repentant Son.

He remains to us as the static Prodigal Son. We do not know if the repentance-inspired transformation is permanent, or if it fades as his belly fills. This detail is not overly important.

But this parable contains a Prodigal Father, as well, which is noteworthy.  

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the second definition of the word means having or giving something on a lavish scale. Our Prodigal Father offers grand-scale forgiveness, a lavish banquet, an over-the-top welcome home, while the Prodigal Son personifies gluttony, greed, and selfishness. 

So today, will I be the Prodigal Son or the Prodigal Father?

Reflection Questions for Journaling

      1. When I am prodigal, as in wastefully extravagant, what do I over-do? Because prodigal also means to have or give lavishly, I also ask, what is it I do and/or give lavishly?
      2. The prodigal son came home because he was hungry, but this parable is also the story of our spiritual home-coming. So, I might ask myself, what do I hunger for?

 

Thought 2: What Comes First

The Prodigal Son’s home-coming reminded me, early people had no homes. In modern-day Turkey, there is a pre-pottery Neolithic site, Gobekli-Tepe, 11,000 years old, at which there is archeological evidence of religious belief. The site was inhabited before the domestication of plants and animals, before people ever established homes. “It may be that because so many people were gathered at this site— creating stone rings, carving the standing stones, and so on— that greater supplies of food were needed” (Archaeology, National Geographic & Great Courses, 2016). This lead to the domestication of plants and animals, which lead to the establishment of fixed abodes. 

While we do not know what beliefs they were seeking to express, we know their desire and need to express them was their number one priority, superseding other concerns (such as the available food supply).

Could it be that expression of religious belief is so innate, instinctual, primary, and fundamental to our existence that it must come before we address our other needs? How does this play out, here and now, for you and I?

Reflection Questions for Journaling

      1. Putting aside my actual religious beliefs, for a moment, how does the need to express them impact, guide or shape my life? 
      2. What have been some of the results or consequences of my expressions of religious belief? 

 

Thought 3: A Little Story of Sisterhood

I’d never been on the floor before; it was my first day of a new job. I stepped off the elevator and onto the memory care unit. A woman ran up to me, huge grin on her face, beaming, “How have you been! I’ve been waiting for you; it’s been an age!” Before I could say anything in reply, she told all those around us, “This is my sister! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you!”

There’s a saying, a stranger is a friend not yet met. Therefore, if I follow Christ, a stranger is simply a sister or brother I’ve not met yet. The Lord’s home is Heaven, which makes it our home too, so should I not greet everyone as if I were welcoming my brother or sister, friend or stranger, home and into Heaven? It’s something to strive for, certainly. 

Reflection Questions for Journaling

        • Do I greet others as if I am welcoming home a long-lost friend or relative? 

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

Third Sunday, Lent 2019

Exodus 3:1-15

To notice the bush is not burning normally, Moses needs to understand general laws of nature, and to observe how the bush in question is behaving differently. And because it must have taken Moses some time to figure it out, the Lord bides His time, patiently waiting to reveal Himself in the not-burning bush.

Robert Alter in the notes included in his translation, “The Five Books of Moses,” explains that because ancient Hebrew’s grammar is constructed differently than modern English, there are often a variety of translations which are accurate and reasonable. While we typically translate God’s name for Himself as I Am Who Am, the following would also be correct: I Will Be Who I Will Be, I Am That I Am, I Am He Who Endures, He Who Brings Things Into Being, and, I Will Be. (Reference #14)

Furthermore, in a similar discussion, the Paulist Biblical Commentary suggests the name the Lord offers as His own is an early form of the Hebrew verb, to be. The commentator writes, “The phrase ‘I Am’ or ‘I Will Be Who I am’ places the focus of God’s name on actions for Israel, and not God’s independent being or essence” (Reference #15). Before offering His name, however, which He does only after Moses demands it, the Lord says, “I have witnessed the affliction of my people in Egypt and have heard their cry of complaint against their slave drivers, so I know well what they are suffering. Therefore I have come down to rescue them.”

In other words, the Lord self-identifies with the actions He performs on Israel’s behalf, actions intended to save His beloved people. This rescuing continues down through the ages. Jesus’ name, Yeshua, in fact, translates as rescuer, savior.

Until Jesus’ Passion, Resurrection and Ascension, Sheol is it, as far as potential abodes for those who have died; He changes the landscape of the afterlife. The inhabitants of Sheol are not able to gaze upon the Lord’s face, they are not with Him. They did not fail to gain entry into Heaven, because they are somehow lacking or sinful or unrepentant. Not the case. 

The doorway to Eternal Life did not yet exist. Jesus saves us from the otherwise unavoidable situation of separation from Him, from Sheol by providing Himself as the Gateway to a new abode. His self-identifying phrase clearly states the fact of the matter, I Am the Narrow Gate.

It is a small irony then that while Jesus gained for us ‘an afterlife’ where we can dwell with Him, where we need never be without Him, we fail to realize we are already with Him in the here and now. Are we, am I, waiting for Eternal Life to notice the Lord? Could I be failing to notice a not-burning bush at my feet?

 

Reflection Questions for Journaling

      • Am I waiting for Eternal Life to notice the Lord’s presence? 
      • Could I be failing to notice a not-burning bush at my feet? Is the Lord patiently waiting for me to do so? 
      • Referring to Paragraph 2, how do each of the varied translations of God’s name for Himself resonate with me? Do any cause me discomfort? Why?

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

Transfiguration 2019

Luke 9:28-36

Hebrew tradition holds that Elijah will appear before the coming of the Messiah and Scripture tells us he was one of only two people who did not die but was taken by God. On the other hand, Moses did die and was buried, as detailed in Deuteronomy, chapter 33. At the time of the Transfiguration, Jesus has not yet died, descended into ‘hell’ and brought those there up to Heaven with Him, therefore, Moses too would have been waiting for the Messiah. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 632-635). So, how does Moses journey from Sheol to the mountaintop; Jesus’ time to release these prisoners has not yet come.

When reading this gospel, we tend to regard Elijah as ‘The Prophet’ and Moses as ‘The Law-giver,’ each representing a vital aspect of Jewish tradition. I would certainly not argue against this, but Moses is also considered a prophet. If I consider his identity as such, I wonder, Why does Jesus appear with a prophet from the dead and a prophet who did not die?

According to Luke, in this mountain-top moment, Elijah, Moses and Jesus are discussing His exodus in Jerusalem. Moses’ presence implies the prisoners in Sheol will also experience an Exodus; Sheol is best understood not as hell or damnation, but rather, ‘an abode of the dead.’ Perhaps, metaphorically, we each have a Sheol within ourselves. 

The Catechism also states, “Those who are there are deprived of the vision of God.” Moses’ presence on the mountain-top says to me, “The time of waiting is soon to be over, you will see Him ablaze with glory! His light will awaken whatever in you sleeps and breathe into you new life.”

 

Reflection Questions for Journaling

    1. Recall three different experiences you had with regard to waiting and then obtaining that which you were ‘waiting for.’ 
    2. After rereading these three experiences, explore the threads and repetitions between them. 

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

23rd Sunday 2017

Psalm 95; Matt 18:15-20

When discussing forgiveness, we often refer to the expression, ‘forgive and forget.’ We seem to think this wise and noble. The Lord certainly repeatedly forgives both the ancient Israelites and ourselves, but He does not appear to advocate ‘forgetting.’

A major role of the prophets was to remember and remind the people of their past behavior and its consequences. Similarly, the writing structure of a psalm compels the psalm-singer to mention the past; usually including both human wayward ways and the Lord’s mercy, forgiveness and intervention. In Psalm 95, the one before us today, the psalm-singer does not shy away from calling the people stiff-necked or of reminding them of their grumbling. However, the remembrance is not self-pitying or a diatribe on the traps and defects of human nature; rather it tethers the celebration of the Lord’s mercy to reality.

In this gospel reading, Jesus spells out the process of resolving grievances within a community. While several verses within are debated, the passage is clear that we are not expected to turn away, ignore or simply tolerate wrongs against us or the sin and failings of others. The steps the Lord suggest involve, the “humble receptivity to the other, mutual support and active respect, accountability, relentless commitment to reconciliation, and repeated forgiveness” (7).

If Jesus were saying this with Psalm 95 in His heart at this Gospel moment… He may be offering a prescription to avoid the ‘hardening of the heart.’ He does not advocate forgiving and forgetting, but exploring, problem-solving and forgiving. He urges community members to ameliorate the issue by addressing it with the party directly involved, pulling in witnesses if private conversation fails, and finally refer the issue to the community. These are steps that are wise to follow today, as well, if we are to avoid the hardening of the heart. In Buddhism, generosity includes sharing one’s ‘spaciousness of heart.’ Is this not what Jesus is referring to here?

Jesus’ good advice about conflict resolution is hinged on forgiving. If we forget we have needed forgiveness in the past, if we forget the depth of vulnerability of another, if we forget the pain we are capable of inflicting, we may do it again. If we remember only the Almighty can truly reform, transform and heal the heart when we have broken it can we deepen within Him. Clinging to painful bits of the past can seem self-defeating, but if we are in communion with the Lord, they do not have to be denied. We can accept them and allow the words of the psalm to be our prayer, “Harden not my heart.”

 

Journal Questions:

  1. What have been my experiences in refer to the sharing of ‘spaciousness of heart?’
  2. How do I resolve disputes or conflicts at home, work and in other groups? Do I follow the steps Jesus laid out? Where in the resolution process does forgiveness figure in for me on a daily basis?
  3. What has been my understanding of the phrase ‘forgive and forget?’ When is forgetting a good idea, and when is remembering beneficial?

 

References– Refer to blog post entitled Resources

 

© 2017 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved