Training dogs or raising children?

Read Hebrews 12:5-13

I once watched a man as he trained his dogs. He would reward them when they did well and punish them when they did not. This seemed to work well with his dogs. I suppose it works well with most animals. It probably works to a certain extent even with children. But can it lead boys and girls to maturity and autonomy, to true loving relationships with their parents? Such children might be well-behaved, just like well-trained dogs. But will they discover insight and learn wisdom?

Too many people believe that God is some sort of animal trainer, rewarding good actions and punishing evil ones. Too many people believe that the bad things that happen to them are sent by God either as a punishment or as a warning. Certainly, this is the way many of the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures seemed to think. But after the Holocaust of the Second World War in which six million of God’s chosen people were put to death simply because of one man’s hatred, can we still see God this way? What could God have been punishing them for? What warning could God have been giving that needed six million deaths? Many people became atheists when they learned of this horror. They were probably right to stop believing in such a God.

Such a sadistic God is not the God of Jesus Christ. Jesus never spoke of God as a trainer, but as a father. A true parent wants more than well-behaved children. A true parent wants children who have insight and wisdom. A true parent goes beyond punishment and reward, striving instead to teach and to encourage.

One can read today’s lesson from the perspective of God as a trainer who “corrects” his wayward children by playing on their fears. From such a perspective, one can see poverty as God’s chastisement, or hurricanes as God’s warning, or AIDS as God’s condemnation.

Or one can read today’s lesson from the perspective of God as a parent who “corrects” his wayward children by taking them aside and speaking to their hearts, enlightening them with his Word, giving them a Spirit of strength so that they can find peace and justice.

Only this second perspective can explain how this passage can end with such words of encouragement: “Give strength to faltering hands; Straighten the path so that the lame will not stumble.” These words speak of a loving, encouraging God. This is a God whose “lessons” we will seek, for we know that, in them, we will find insight and wisdom.

These words also invite us to deal with one another in the same way: not with rewards and punishment, but with support, faithfulness and patience. Perhaps this is the way we also need to deal with our children.

From the indicative flows the imperative

Read Colossians 3:1-11

Studying grammar in elementary school, I learned the difference between the indicative and the imperative moods. The first, as its name suggests, "indicates" the way things are. It is used to describe, to announce, to tell: “You sing. She spoke. He will run away.” The second is used to direct, to order, to compel: “Sing! Speak! Flee!”

Paul’s letters are usually divided into two parts. In the first, Paul teaches, proclaims, explains. This is the indicative mood of Paul’s writing. The second part of his letters gives way to the imperative mood: he commands, ordains, directs. It is important for the readers of Paul’s letters to always remember when they are reading the second part of his letters that they grow out of the first part. His commands and directions are always the consequence of the Good News he has proclaimed in the first part. 

All too often, Christians rush to the second part of the letters. They tend to focus on the does and don’ts of the Christian life. All too often, non-Christians only see in Christianity this list of what to them seem stifling rules and regulations. Yet the heart of the Christian life lies in the Good News to be found in the first part of Paul’s letters. And without this Good News, the moral life to which Christians are called is but an empty shell, at times even a straight-jacket. 

In the first part of his letter to the Colossians, Paul has been teaching his readers that Christ has conquered every power and that they share in that victory. Now, in the second part, he tells them how to live in that victory and freedom. He shows his readers how to grow in the power of Christ and how to tap into that power in order to be freed from all slavery. When we remember the first part of the letter, the second part becomes a joyful invitation to live fully, deeply and freely! 

One note: Paul here contrasts “the things of heaven” with “the things of earth.” We tend to think that Paul is calling us away from “secular” reality to focus on the “sacred.” Such an interpretation does not correspond to Paul's way of thinking. This "secular-sacred" split does not come from him, but from us. And this split tends to devalue the reality of our daily lives, our work and our play, as if only "churchy" things have true value. Yet there is a way of working and playing that make both beautiful, meaningful and sacred. Our daily interactions with others can be full of God’s presence. Of course, they can also lead us away from God: it’s all in the way we approach reality. 

When Paul invites us to “put to death whatever is earthly,” he is not asking us to refrain from earning a living or enjoying the good things of creation or loving others. He is asking us to do this in a way that opens up our daily reality to the power of Christ’s Spirit: this is “setting our minds on things that are above.” Discovering the secret to doing this allows Christ to be “all in all!”

Life: a cruise or a crossing?

Read Hebrews 11:1-19

We do not know who wrote the letter to the Hebrews, nor where the people to whom this letter is addressed actually lived. What is clear is that these people had a deep knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures and were probably members of Jewish communities who came to recognize Jesus as Son of God. We also know that they were being persecuted.

This is the context out of which is born one of the more beautiful passages of Scripture. The eleventh chapter of the letter to the Hebrews presents a reflection on the nature of faith, giving us a definition which has withstood the test of time: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

The text goes on to illustrate this definition by presenting various individuals from the Hebrew Scriptures (what Christians call the Old Testament) who were known for the depth of their faith: Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Moses and others.

As we read the letter, we realize that the people to whom it was originally written were suffering persecution because of their attachment to Jesus-Christ. The author of the letter goes to great pains to encourage them in perseverance and faithfulness. Reflecting on the example of their ancestors reminds them that they are not alone, that they are not the first to have endured hardships, that they stand in the line of men and women who held on to the truth without wavering.

Many of us count among our ancestors men and women who left their native land to emigrate to a world unknown to them. Leaving all possessions, crossing oceans for an unknown shore, starting over in a land where everything needed to be done, they certainly showed themselves to be possessed of that “assurance of things hoped for,” of that “conviction of things not seen” which Scripture calls faith.

Today, many of us enjoy holidays on cruise ships that go around in a circle, stopping here and there to satisfy our curiosity for things new and unusual. We complain quickly if the service is inadequate, if the food is not to our liking, if the weather does not cooperate. How different is this from the crossing our ancestors made, often in terrible conditions, yet with hope in their hearts. Do we live our lives as if we were on a cruise, simply for the enjoyment of it, quick to curse the difficulties of the day? Or do we understand ourselves to be on a journey, a crossing towards our ultimate home?

Our ancestors' journey towards a new land can be for us a symbol of life itself. For we all journey towards a promised land that has been gained for us through Jesus the Christ. Faith allows us to endure all manner of struggle and trial, for we know that, in the end, all things work out for the good of those who love God. May the faith that emboldened the readers of the letter to the Hebrews shine forth in our own lives still today.

Waters of death and life

Read Colossians 2:6-14

Water is a beautiful and dangerous thing. Without it, we die. And so we fear the desert, drought, thirst. On the other hand, too much water is devastating. And so we fear floods, storms at sea, a tippy canoe. The waters of birth can sometimes become the waters of death.

This two-sided nature of water is present in the story of Moses leading the Hebrews out of slavery in Egypt. The Sea of Reeds, when they first came to it, seemed to them an obstacle to their liberty. Yet this obstacle became the very means of freedom as God opened the sea to let the Hebrews pass dry-shod. The sea closed over the Egyptians, becoming for them a tomb. Both life and death can be found in water.

John the Baptist called people to be plunged in water as a sign of their need to be washed from their sins. Like a New Year’s resolution, John’s baptism allowed a person to express his or her desire to die to the past and live for the future, to make a clean break and start over again. We think of the sinner’s prayer in Psalm 51: “Lord, wash me thoroughly of my iniquity, cleanse me from my sin.” And we remember the Lord’s answer in Ezekiel 36: “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleanness… I will put my spirit within you… You shall be my people, and I will be your God.”

For Christians, baptism is even more than the expression of our need for purification and our desire for change. In his letter to the Romans, probably written around the year 57, Paul describes baptism as being plunged into the death of Christ so that, one day, we might rise with him to new life. With Christ, we have died to sin in order that we might live for love, for grace.

In his letter to the Colossians, which most specialists believe was written five years later, Paul’s thought goes even further: our resurrection is already accomplished, because in baptism we have put our faith in the One by whose power Christ was raised. Already, that power, which we know as Christ’s Spirit, is active within us, transforming us into the likeness of Christ, making us sons and daughters of God!

In a very real sense, Christian life is all about catching up with the reality that has already taken hold of us. Baptism is not only something that happened to us in the past, it is an act whose consequences spread out in our daily lives like waves from a rock thrown into a pool. Certainly it is true to say “On such a date in the past was I baptized.” Yet it is perhaps truer to say: “I AM baptized. More today than yesterday. Less today than tomorrow.”

Into the mystery

Read Colossians 1:24-28

When we really stop to consider what we mean by “God,” our words fall short, our imaginations stumble, our concepts fail. We are like an old pocket calculator which, when faced with a calculation that exceeds its capabilities, flashes “Does not compute.” And so we say that God is a “mystery.” Yet, a mystery is not a problem to be solved, however complex – as if the concept of God was just a more complicated version of the general theory of relativity. Rather, a mystery is a reality so all-encompassing that we never stop discovering its depth or its meaning. We are both fascinated and overwhelmed by the mystery of God. This mystery beckons, it calls us to enter into the darkness in order to discover its light and glory.

This was Saint Paul’s experience. Before his encounter with the risen Christ, his knowledge of God was partial and obscured. In accepting Christ’s suffering for him, in accepting the darkness of the Cross, Paul came to discover the brightness of God’s love not only for him, but for the whole world. This is why the struggles of his ministry are an occasion for him to rejoice: for as he enters more deeply into identification with the suffering Jesus, he discovers more fully the life-giving love of God. This is why he can write these strange but wonderful words: “I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake as I complete in my flesh what is lacking in Christ’s own suffering for the sake of his body, the Church.”

Through the struggles of his ministry, the rejection and suffering he experiences because of his faith, Paul comes to a greater understanding and experience of the depth of God’s own love for all people. This is the “mystery” into which we can all enter, “Christ among us, the hope of glory.” And Paul can only invite us to enter into this mystery ourselves, so that we will all grow into the fullness of this glory. For Paul, this is the great mission in his life, the great task he has accepted and for which he is willing to suffer and die.

People who truly know what it means to love also know that love is often costly and painful. It requires us to die to ourselves in order that others might come to greater life. A parent who suffers for his or her child’s sake; a spouse who gives all in caring for a wife or husband; a social worker who cries over the pains of a broken family; a nurse or doctor who is torn by the ravages of a patient’s disease: all these enter into the dark mystery which, when lived in love, somehow opens up into light. The “mystery” which has been hidden from all times then becomes our meaning and our hope.

Outside of love, the pains and struggles of this life can only drain and empty us. Encompassed by love, they become a way of knowing the mystery of God, of entering that mystery, of being upheld and embraced by that mystery. This was Paul’s experience of Christ. May it also be ours.

More than a tattoo!

Read Galatians 6, 14-18

For Jews, male circumcision is the essential physical sign of belonging to the Chosen People, a sign permanently inscribed in one's flesh, more radical even than a tattoo. In the story where God establishes his Covenant with Abraham, God himself sets this law for all of the latter's descendants. Religious historians discuss the meaning of circumcision in the ancient Middle East: was it a sign of belonging, a blood sacrifice, a rite of passage? Whatever its meaning, the law of circumcision for Jewish men knew no exception: a male convert to Judaism was to be circumcised.

This was the crux of a serious problem for the early Galatian converts to faith in Jesus Christ. Coming from traditional Greek religions, they knew nothing of the laws of Israel. Saint Paul, who proclaimed the Gospel to them, made them understand that they would not have to bother with these laws since salvation comes from faith in Jesus, Savior of the world. But other disciples of Jesus, who had been raised in Judaism, did not see it that way. For them, Jesus was an observant Jew who had not come to abolish the Law. So in order to follow Jesus, they felt that new converts also had to submit to the Jewish Law. Conclusion: these new Christians had to be circumcised.

For Paul, this issue represented a fundamental conflict between two ways of understanding our relationship with God. Does this relationship depend first on what I do for God, or does it depends primarily on what God is doing for me? For Paul, the answer was clear: God came to us in his son Jesus, God looked upon us in his great love - manifested on the cross - and freed us from the powers of evil by giving us his Spirit. Everything comes from God. All is grace.

According to Paul, belief in circumcision - or any other condition that one would have to meet - as necessary for salvation is a consequence of the pride that wants us to believe that we can save ourselves. Such a belief denies the totally free gift of God's love for us. It implies that the death of Jesus is not the central event in this story of love. It aligns us with the spirit of the "world" rather than with the Spirit of Jesus.

This is why Paul says so forcefully: "May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ... For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!"

In this "new creation", the Law is summed up in uncon-ditional love: God's love for us, our love for others. It is because of love that Paul had been stoned and flogged: those were the only "marks" he carried on his body that had any meaning for him.

This same love brought Paul to conclude this abrupt and harsh letter with final words of tenderness for the Galatians: "Brothers," he calls them despite the controversy between them, "the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. " To such a prayer for unity beyond conflict, we can only respond sincerely with Paul: " Amen! 

What is freedom?

Read Galatians 5:1,13-18

In these few sentences, Paul presents us with a series of contrasts that we can list: freedom vs. slavery, service vs. selfishness, living vs destroying, guidance in the Spirit vs. the tendencies of the flesh.

He links the second terms in a way that leads to this conclusion: human beings fall into slavery when they let themselves be led by their own selfish tendencies (which Paul identifies with "the flesh"). Such slavery leads inevitably to the dissolution of human community and the destruction of individuals.

Paul suggests that even very religious persons can be slaves to such selfishness. If they use religious practice to stand with pride before God, to try to bend God to their wills, to set themselves up as better than others, then religious practice becomes a spiritual bondage: rigid, alienating and deadly.

However, Paul presents an alternative: freedom. What is freedom to him? It is a life lived in dedicated service to others under the guidance of God's Spirit.

Religion lived in true freedom leads to humble trust in God, seeking God's will in all things, recognizing every human being as a brother or sister who walks with us towards life. The key to such religion is love. "For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbour as yourself"." 

The Law thus opens a path to freedom: we no longer live our religion as passive subjects, but as engaged actors, creative and open to the breath of the Spirit. 

Such considerations lead us to understand freedom in a very different way from contemporary culture, which only sees freedom as an absence of constraints and the ability to do whatever we want without limitation. In our Western culture, we seek to be "free from": free from regulations, free from opinions, free from morality, free from work, free from duty.

The Gospel invites us instead to strive to be "free for": free for the service of others, free for the building of a more just and fraternal world, free for relationships woven with fidelity, fruitfulness and tenderness. Otherwise, freedom would just be one other form of slavery. "For freedom, Christ has set us free!"