Who is My Neighbor?

Housing Opportunities for Women (HOW) has provided housing for homeless women in Rogers Park since 1983. The goal is to provide women housing as soon as possible to get them off the streets and then offer “wrap-around” support services to help them move forward in their life (e.g. mentally, financially, emotionally).

HOW’s philosophy of housing homeless women reminds me of the parable of the Good Samaritan that Jesus tells us in Luke 10:25. In the parable, the Samaritan man is the one who stops to help a man who is attacked by robbers on the road to Jericho, and he attends to his needs by putting him up in an inn to rest and heal from his injuries. Key to Jesus’ call to love our neighbor in this parable, is the giving of hospitality - - especially giving hospitality to those who have been abandoned.

In the parable, the Samaritan man takes out two denarii and gives them to the innkeeper, saying, “Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.” At HOW, the women served typically stay in their program for an average 4-5 years. In this context I think about the parable and wonder how Jesus’ audience at the time would have reacted if the Samaritan would have agreed to care for the injured man for this period of time. They probably would have laughed. The parable was challenging enough for them already.

On the other hand, most of the time when Jesus physically healed someone he was doing more than attending to their physical needs, he was healing them spiritually and forgiving their sins. While outwardly their injury or disability was visibly obvious, Jesus cared more about the condition of their hearts, and I think this is true of HOW.
Building on the initial impact HOW has made with homeless women in Rogers Park, HOW decided ten years ago to get involved in Partners for Rogers Park (PRP), which is a coalition of a dozen community organizations. The coalition began to try to make the community safe from crime, drugs, violence, and to create a community plan and promote affordable housing in the neighborhood.

Thinking of Jesus’ ministry again, one thing that was always apparent was that as he went from town to town preaching, teaching, and healing, the Scribes and Pharisees were always at his heals criticizing and challenging him. “You can’t do that. What gives you the right to do that? Who are you, and under what authority do you do these things?”

Similarly, I was surprised to learn that PRP has had problems with its own brand of Pharisees: Bloggers. It seems these bloggers have used the Internet as a way to criticize and challenge the progress being made in Rogers Park. I guess it all goes to show that human nature hasn’t changed that much over the last 2000 years.

Help the Homeless!

"Streetwise, get your Streetwise here! It's got my story in it, but if you don't like it you can tack it on the wall and throw darts at it."

That's the pitch I heard recently one afternoon I was walked through my neighborhood. The Streetwise vendor, Gregg Cole, was assuming he regular post outside Potbelly Sandwiches. After hearing his remark, I decided to turn around, get off my bike and have a word with him.

I said, "That's great that your story is in Streetwise, but don't say the part about 'throwing darts at it if you don't like it." And Gregg said, "People think it's funny."

Pausing, I added, "Your story is important. Don't deflate it. Let them decide if they like it after they read it. By adding your comment about 'throwing darts' at the story, you're creating doubt in their minds whether the story is any good, and whether they should waste their time buying your magazine."

"I see what you mean," Gregg said. "I'll try it without that line and see what happens. Thanks. Here, let me give you a free copy of the magazine. Read it and tell me what you think."

"Thanks Gregg, have a great day. God bless you!"

REFLECTION

This story reinforces for me the saddest part of homelessness: the loss of a person's dignity. On the one hand this man is being vulnerable on the street, selling his story to make a living and stay off the streets, and on the other hand he has doubts about whether his story is any good. Why would someone want to buy or hear my story? I'm homeless. I have little value to society. Some people don't even see me. I have no status, few belongings, and call myself homeless, rather than "Gregg."

I've never been homeless before, and I can only imagine how humiliating the experience is. I think we need to challenge ourselves each day when we see a homeless man or women and look them in the eye and ask them their name. They deserve to be noticed, treated with dignity, and to receive our daily prayers. Give them money when you can, but take a moment to engage them in a short conversation and let them know they are beloved children of God who deserve our attention.

The Hope for Miracles and Resurrection

Two stories in the news struck me this week. One of a hiker lost in the wilderness of Colorado and the other of the 33 Chilean miners rescued after being trapped underground for two months. One was lost, and the others were found.

On the one hand, you could say that these two stories are metaphorical, but they are the actual stories of actual people's lives. People who were trapped, lost, and powerless to find their way home. They had to depend on someone else's help and the grace of God to find their way home.

The whereabouts of hiker, James Nelson, is still unknown as rescue workers called off a four day search for him in the Holy Cross Wilderness near Vail Colorado. Nelson was an experienced hiker, hiking alone along 25-mile stretch of wilderness over 5 days. No one has heard from him since October 3rd and no trace was found of him on the nearby trails.

At the conclusion of the search for Nelson, his family, friends and fiancé stopped to look and reflect while on the deck at Vail's Adventure Ridge Tuesday, which overlooks the Holy Cross Wilderness where Nelson disappeared. You can only imagine the sense of loss and grief they must have felt in saying goodbye.

In contrast, the 33 miners were trapped underground, yet in community. For two months friends and family were able to shuttle notes back and forth to the miners, but there was no guarantee that the miners would be rescued and brought back alive. Where did they find their hope? I'm not sure I could have lived underground for two months.

I am told that on the backs of their jackets they had written a quote from Psalm 95:4, "In whose hand are the depths of the earth." They trusted that they were in the safety of God's hands despite their dire circumstances. What amazing faith!

Witnessing these events for some reason made me think of Luke 16:30, when Lazarus says to father Abraham, "If someone from the dead goes to them (my brothers), they will repent." What Lazarus means in this passage, I think, is that if someone who is resurrected from the dead bears witness to his five brothers, then they will repent and will not also be tormented in Hell as he is.

We may not all ever spend 2 months in a mine shaft, but we all have times when we are trapped in dark, desert-like situations where we can't see a way out. Christ is our hope. We know he has walked this road before us and has been resurrected so we hope in faith for that same resurrection.

The common thread it seems in the story of the 33 miners and of James Nelson is that they were all faithful Christians in desperate circumstances. As such, we can infer that their faith sustained them in their trails, but we can only imagine the anguish they felt at the time.

I pray in gratitude for the resurrection and new life that the miners and their families have received as a result of this experience. I pray that there lives and their faith can be a witness to others. And I pray James and his family that they are able to see God's guiding hand in their apparent loss. Amen.

What is Truth?

“For this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me,” said Jesus.” To which, Pontius Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). What is truth? The New Testament shows that Jesus came to testify to the truth that we are all beloved sons and daughters, to testify to the truth and reality of the social injustices going on in his time, and to testify to the truth of the freedom, healing, forgiveness, and mercy available to us if we choose to radically love our neighbors and God the Father as he did.

In his book, “Where is God?” John Sobrino says that if we hear and respond to the truth, it leads to a conversion. This is consistent with Jesus’ message of, “Those with ears to hear should hear (Mark 4:9)”. Jesus’ message and ministry were about conversion and transformation, not maintenance of the status quo. He was radical in the eyes of the people of his time. Sobrino notes that reality challenges us to see the truth (e.g. “with eyes to see”) of what’s going on in society and the world and react out of mercy.

Jesus’ call to conversion was a call for people to see the reality of what was going on in the world: the social injustices, economic injustices, cultural injustices, and political injustices. He told parables like the Good Samaritan that turned people’s expectations of cultural norms upside down, and he shared table fellowship with the outcast and downtrodden in his society. But why didn’t others see the world the way he saw it? Sobrino points out that the truth and how we see it is based on our cultural narrative and the group of people in power who are driving that cultural narrative in politics, society, and the media.

As Jesus experienced, blindness to truth often occurs because people are acting out of their head and not their heart. People in society both then and now are often trying to preserve their power, position, and possessions. In Roman times the poor, downtrodden, and widows had no status, and the Jews were captives in their own country. That was the cultural narrative the Romans and the Jewish leaders saw when they encountered Jesus. They saw him as dangerous because he was threatened to overthrow the current power structure.

Circling back to Jesus and Pilate’s original conversation in the praetorium, I would offer that that each of them was seeing different versions of the truth. Jesus’ vision of the truth was radical while Pilate’s was traditional (as defined by Peter Henriot). Pilate, as the authority holding power, defined (along with the Jewish leaders) what the “truth” was and were guilty of culpable blindness because they did not want to see the truth of “reality” that was right in front of them. Power was more important to them than truth.

In the words of Jack Nicholson from the movie, A Few Good Men, the Roman and Jewish leaders of the time, “couldn’t handle the truth,” that Jesus was talking about, and I think the same is true today. If the veil of injustice in our world was lifted tomorrow, our hearts would all break in sorrow for all of the poverty and suffering that exists.

A Slice of Life on the Red Line

It’s 8:30 AM the Friday before Labor Day weekend. Young and old, black and white get on the train at Jarvis. A black man wearing a business suit gets on at Morse. At Loyola there’s a white women with a stroller, and a black woman on her cell phone. A young girl texts a friend. A man in torn jeans calls but there is no answer. He’s holding a note pad and a large dictionary.

I also was holding a note pad that day. I observed who got on and who got off the Red Line at each stop from Howard to 95th Street and back again. It took about 3 hours all told. I saw the neighborhoods change as the passengers changed - - in dress, skin color, and temperment. I saw people moving in the world together, yet silently sitting in their own silent worlds while en route to their own private destinations. The only break in the library-like silence of the train was the occasional giggle of little children who didn’t know any better.

At Bryn Mawr a black boy waves to another passenger and makes them laugh. while other riders talk on the phone, text their friends, and listen to their iPods. At Berwyn, the boys’ mother holds her phone up to her son’s ear to have him join her conversation with a friend. When the child departs with his mother at Lawerence, he waves goodbye.

The diversity of the passengers is apparent at Lawerence as white, black and Hispanic board the train. At Jackson, the same diversity is visible amidst the sounds of a street performer who sings hip hop as the doors are closing. At Grand and Roosevelt, two Asian men board the train, and an Indian man boards at Garfield Park.

On the north side, passengers are largely white, wearing jeans or shorts. A girl sits next to me reading her eBook while holding a cup of coffee in her other hand. Several white men on the train choose to stand near the doors even though there are seats available.

On the south side, black passengers follow social norms that are less formal. Many nod off and sleep, some eat their breakfast, talk audibly on their cell phones, or put their feet up on a nearby seat while singing along with their MP3 player.
The racial divide on the morning train is obvious at Jackson, Monroe, and Chicago. Black men and women exit and white men and women get on. Also, white men exit at 35th street for the Sox game, and at the Addison stop for the Cub game.

No one boards the train at Granville and Argyle on the north side or 63rd, 69th, and 87th on the south side. At 79th street I realize for the first time that I am the only white person on the train car. For a moment I feel fearful. Then I smell pickles and see a woman behind me grab an onion ring from her Burger King sack and I realize I’m just part of the fabric of a diverse tapestry of people who ride the Red Line on the way to somewhere each day.

The Challenges of our Consumer Culture

Our consumer culture in America thrives each day because marketers and advertisers convince us that their product or service will fulfill a real or suggested need we have. Their pitch is that by buying this product or that, we will feel better, be happier, look younger, live longer, save time, save money, live better lives, or will simply differentiate ourselves from our neighbors. Do we buy stuff because we need it, because we want it, or because it makes us feel good? The answer is often one or more of the above.

John Kavanaugh, author of “Following Christ in a Consumer Society”, suggests that our consumer culture in America has become a method of self expression. Our buying behavior has become an expression of our thoughts, feelings, and even our identity. We see ourselves in the personae described in a specific brand. We buy the brand, and we become that brand or personae. We’re the Pepsi generation, who’s stuck on Band-Aid, is like Mike, and deserves a break today at McDonalds.

Meanwhile we do also have interior, spiritual lives that compete with the outside world to tell us who we really are. This voice doesn’t come from a radio or television ad, but from our Creator. In our consumer culture where our identities are often defined by what we wear, what we drive, and what we drink, our inner voice is often drowned out or simply ignored. We act on our feelings to buy goods and services each day, but we don’t feel safe expressing our interior feelings to friends, families, or to our community. Being reflective or contemplative doesn’t have a place in consumer culture unless it involves buying a bible, a self help book, or a yoga mat. There is no call or space in our culture to be quiet, vulnerable, and meek (as Jesus talks about in the Beatitudes). Instead we’re called to be busy, strong, and continuously gratified by external messages from movies, music, and smart phones.

The truth is, I believe, that marketers and advertisers have been more clever and successful at calling us to fulfill our interior desires with external stimuli than the Church has been at convincing us that the way to a fulfilling interior life is through prayer and reflection. In our culture very few people are proclaiming the benefits of a deep, peaceful prayer life and even fewer are listening. Why? I think our culture doesn’t know what to do with it. What are the outward fruits or benefits will I gain by spending/wasting time in prayer? Why would I want to spend an hour of quiet time reflecting on my mother or father wound and listening for the voice of a God I can’t see? What good is that going to do? It’s more productive to just grab a beer, watch a movie, and forget about it.

When we live in alignment with our consumer culture of keeping up with the Jones’, however, we are living a lie. We are not being the authentic selves God made us to be. Jesus says the Lord wants to take care of all of our day-to-day needs, “Do not worry about your life … look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more important than they? … So do not worry and say, “What are we to eat? Or What are we to wear? Your heavenly Father knows what you need … Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.” (Matthew 6:25- 34)

To cope with the disconnect with our interior lives that comes from our consumer culture, Roger Betsworth says in his book, “Social Ethics”, we often construct Cover Stories to help us find a sense of affirmation and safety. Real Story: “How can I work at McDonald’s during the day and read Martha’s Stewart’s “Living” at night, and still feel good about myself? Cover Story: Well, this job is only temporary until I finish school, so it’s okay for me to fantasize about what my first house might look like.” Cover Stories protect us from the truth and pain of who we really are.

In summary, you could say that in our society, consumerism is the Cover Story that most Americans buy into on a daily basis. First, consumerism is a part of the cultural narrative of how we Americans look at the world, and, second, it is part of the story we try to maintain everyday about our identities. “I am this type of person in our society because I can afford these things. It’s not really who I am, but I work every day to maintain this story and standard of living because people would reject me if I didn’t. I would never let people know how wounded and fearful a person I really am. Without all these possessions I would feel naked and alone.”

My Yoke is Easy and My Burden is Light

A key part of my faith journey these days involves paying attention to apparent coincidences. As a Christian I believe God is acting in my life every day so these coincidences can be seen as evidence that he is speaking to me.

I had one such coincidence occur the other day when I heard Matthew 11:30 repeated to me twice within an hour by two different people, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." So I began to meditate on the scripture to see what the Lord was trying to tell me.

The first "Aha" I experienced came after Googling the word, "yoke" to see what one actually looked like, and I was surprised to realize that a yoke is designed for TWO oxen to put a plow, wagon, or other farming implement. And furthermore, farmers would usually pair one seasoned ox with a younger ox in the yoke to train him in the work being done.

So immediately I got this image of Jesus right beside me as the seasoned ox, helping me shoulder the load of my yoke and guiding me on the path ahead. But actually I realized that he was asking me to be yoked to HIM and his work, rather than giving me strength to carry MY yoke, a yoke that I had been intent on carrying.

What does this scripture require of me? How does it convict me? Well first it tells me that I've got to let go of the yokes I've been hanging on to - - burdens I've chosen or clung to that are not Christ's burdens. Then I need to choose be obedient to him and follow him in carrying HIS yoke.

It's a paradoxical concept because, on the one hand I know that Christ came that I might have life and have it more abundantly, but on the other hand he wants me to be yoked to him. Does it make me a slave to him? Aren't I giving up my freedom? Well, yest and no. I think he calls me to carry this yoke with him and by doing so I'll experience the freedom of his love and grace. I don't want to be yoked to selfish desires, worldly things, or sinful things. I want to be yoked to someone who loves me and wants to give me my heart's desire - - so I actually GAIN my freedom by surrendering and being yoked to him.

Another interpretation of this scripture comes from the perspective that Jesus was telling his followers at the time not to be yoked to the 613 Jewish purity laws that the Pharisees would lord over them. I can see a connection to this teaching in my own life also. What things do I burden myself with daily, saying, "I should be doing this, I should be doing that. I'm not doing enough, etc."

I don't think Jesus wants us to "should" ourselves to death. He wants us to do our best, he wants us to love him, and he wants us to enjoy our life. When we "should" ourselves to death, we are focused on what we didn't do yesterday and what we have to do tomorrow and we are not living in the present moment. We are carrying anxiety and burdens about work left undone and are not at peace.

I think that is what Jesus is saying in this scripture. He says in the preceding lines, "I will give you rest," "learn from me," and, "I am gentle and humble of heart." So he wants to give us a peaceful, fulfilling life not a burdensome and troubling life - - but it takes that first step of agreeing to be yoked to his will, not our own.

I'll have to admit that I also see parallels to Jesus' conversation with Peter in John 21:18 in this scripture. In it, Jesus says to Peter, "When you were younger you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go."

Like Peter before me, only by professing my love for Christ and carrying his yoke can my heart find peace. I'm learning that it's a struggle everyday to recommitt to this, but I know that if I do he will help me carry the load and grant me his peace.

The Voice That Calls Me By Name

Have you ever been in love? Do you remember what it’s like: the giddiness, the joy, the laughter, and excitement? You can’t wait to see their face, hear their voice, or hold their hand. And everything they do is adorable. You love their name, their hair, their smile, and you start to fantasize about what it might be like to have your names carved into the side of a tree with a big heart around it, or printed on embossed wedding invitations. The first time he or she says the “L” word, though, you have to decide how you’re going to respond? Do you say, “Me too,” “Ditto,” or do you step up to the plate and actually say, “I love you!”

In my reflection last week I spent some time with John 21 and felt challenged by the passages in which Jesus asks Peter (21:15), “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “(21:16) Simon, son of John, do you love me?” And a third time (21:17), “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” As I unpacked these passages with my spiritual director it never really occurred to me that God wanted or needed to hear ME say, “I love you.” I mean if “God is love,” as it says in 1 John 4:16, why does he need me to confirm this for him?

I was still chewing on this question when I chose “The Good Shepherd” discourse (in John, Chapter 10) to reflect on this week. I wasn’t sure at first if “The Good Shepherd” was a good passage to select according to John Shea’s criteria because, while interesting, it doesn’t really contain any plot. It seemed more of a metaphorical discourse about God’s salvic love for us, but I decided to give it a shot anyway.

As I reflected on the passage, a couple of things jumped out at me. In John 10:2 Jesus says, “The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The keeper opens the gate for him. The sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own by name and leads them out.” Then in John 10:4 Jesus says, “(the gatekeeper) walks ahead of them and the sheep follow him because they recognize his voice.” And finally, in John 10:9, Jesus says, “I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be safe.” Like you, I’ve heard this discourse a hundred times, but for some reason this time the words “name” and “voice” jumped out at me when I heard it, so I decided to explore that.

First, I totally get the metaphor about the shepherd and the sheep, and it was probably a metaphor that was easy for the people of Jesus’ time to understand too because shepherds and sheep were so commonplace back then, but it felt to me like there was something else going on in the narrative so I let my mind wander as I meditated on the story. This meditation led me initially to think about Jesus’ baptism by John at the river Jordan. In fact I looked at the various accounts of the baptism story in all the Gospels and realized that this is the first time Jesus was audibly told by the voice of his Father that he is beloved (Luke 3:21), “You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.”

Next, I thought about Moses’ first exchange with the voice of God on Mt. Sinai in the burning bush, and how Moses goes through the trouble of asking God (Exodus 3:13), “When I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ if they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what am I to tell them?” God replied, “I am who am.” Then he added, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you.”

These reflections on the voice of God confirmed for me that in The Good Shepherd discourse, there is something more going on when Jesus calls “his own by name” and “the sheep hear his voice (10:3-4).” So I started to reflect on my own experiences of being loved and thought about what it’s like to hear the voice of someone you love on your voicemail or hear them call you from across the room at a party. What I realized was your name seems to sound different when that person says it because it’s coming from the voice of someone who loves you. You not only hear your name, but you hear the love they have for you when they call.

Going back on John 21 for a minute, I’m struck by the fact that Jesus calls Peter deliberately by his name three times, “Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John … Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Could it be more obvious? This calling of Jesus is not just a metaphor anymore. He IS calling us by name, just like Peter, calling us to intimate love, relationship, and to our commission. He calls us by name into the sheepfold because he loves us, and he demonstrates this great love by laying “down his life for (us) the sheep (10:11).”

Next, I started to think about related scripture passages I was familiar with and it occurred to me, that just like any other mutual relationship of love between Bill and Barbara, Sally and Sam, and Dick and Donna - - God wants us to call HIM by name in this relationship of love too!

• “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy NAME.” (Luke 11:2)
• “I am the Lord, this is my NAME” (Isaiah 42:8)

And the same is true of the Son of God! As The Good Shepherd, Jesus allows God’s grace to flow whenever we pray in his NAME:
• “Whatever you ask in my NAME I will do.” (John 14:13)
• “All you ask the Father in my NAME, he will give to you.” (John 15:16)
(Ironically, this realization came to me while I was attending mass at Holy NAME Cathedral yesterday.)

So in closing, my reflection on The Good Shepherd revealed something to me I hadn’t expected. The scripture wasn’t just a metaphor for how obediently following The Good Shepherd was going to help me gain salvation, it was about a shepherd who wanted me to (1) hear his voice, (2) hear him call me by name, and (3) love him so much in return that I wanted to follow him through the narrow gate and not be distracted by the voice of strangers, thieves or bandits. The Good Shepherd calls me into a relationship of mutual love with him on a first name basis, yes, just like Moses and Peter, (I said yes, just like Moses and Peter) not a relationship of blind obedience in hopes of earning his love. He wants to be the lover I think about when I go to sleep at night and the lover I can’t wait to spend time with when I awake - - the name on my lips and the name in my heart.

Breakfast with Jesus

Chapter 21 of the Gospel of John, begins with Peter telling the five other apostles who are gathered with him at the Sea of Tiberias, “I am going fishing,” and they all respond by saying,” We also will come with you.” After fishing all night long and catching nothing, Jesus appears on the shore at dawn and tells them to,”Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” The apostles oblige, but are not able to pull in the net because of the large number of fish that fill it. Taking note of this miraculous catch, the apostle John says to Peter, “It is the Lord,” - - which motivates Peter to jump into the sea and swim to the shore to see Jesus. Meanwhile, the rest of the apostles drag the net of 153 fish with them by boat to the shore.

Upon arrival to the shore, the apostles see a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it, and Jesus says to them, “Bring some of the fish you just caught,” and, ”Come have breakfast.” The apostles, join Jesus for breakfast though they don’t seem to fully recognize him. He then takes the bread and fish and gives it to them to eat.
“When they have finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, Simon son of John, do you love me more than these? He said to him, Yes Lord; you know that I love you. Jesus said to him, Feed my lambs.” Jesus questions Peter two more times about his love for him, to which Jesus replies, “Tend my sheep” and “Feed my lambs.”

Initial Insight
I’ve always enjoyed reflecting on John 21 because I love to imagine having breakfast with Jesus at a morning campfire on the beach. It is a welcoming, fun image for me of hanging out with Christ in nature. It’s the way I enjoy being in fellowship with other men and having this carefree time with Jesus is something that feels welcoming, comforting and collegial to me.
I must confess, however, that as I enter into this scripture meditation that I already have a relationship with the text. Besides liking the image of having a morning beachfront breakfast with Jesus, the dialogue that Jesus has with Peter after breakfast is something I’ve actually heard whispered in my ears. Specifically, during a time of evening prayer in an empty St. Clement Church, I was reflecting on the call of some of the great prophets in scripture (e.g. Moses, Gideon, David, Jonah, and Paul) and I got on my knees and asked the Lord, “So what do you want ME to do?,” and I heard the words, “Feed my lambs, Tend my sheep.” This was a startling insight, and has been a clue to me that the Lord is calling me to serve in some kind of ministry but I’m still discerning how to live out that call.

New Insight
In the scripture story, Jesus reveals himself to his disciples again. In perspective, Jesus has already appeared to them at least four times prior to this event in the Gospel of John. (e.g. Mary Magdeline at the tomb when she mistakes him for the gardener, the two men leaving Jerusalem for Emmaus, the ten apostles hiding out in the upper room, and week later to the same group - - plus Thomas who was not present previously and asks to put his hands inside Jesus’ wounds). What this chronology tells me is that the apostles don’t get it. They don’t yet “get” the resurrection. This is a startling insight that hadn’t struck me before, especially since Thomas, for instance, has just had physical contact with the wounds of Jesus and proclaims, “My Lord and My God!”

Abundance = Jesus
Another thing that strikes me about the scripture is that there are so many fish in the net that the apostles cannot empty the net into the boat, so they drag the net of fish to shore, yet the net does not break. Like the feeding of the 5000 and similar miracles, this miracle stirs John’s heart (and possibly the other apostles’ hearts) to realize, “It is the Lord.” They can’t see Christ with their eyes, but they see him with their hearts. Abundance is Jesus’ calling card. “It’s the Lord.”
I once heard and evangelical preacher say, “When Christ shows up, Christ shows off,” and I’ve experienced this first hand in my life when abundant blessings (experiences, finances) show up that are bigger that I was expecting or imagined. So these abundant encounters with Christ stir our hearts to make us realize (like the abundance of fish) “It’s the Lord” - - meaning I didn’t do this so the Lord must have, and “Wow” what a blessing it is!

The scripture also shows me that because the abundance of fish the apostles encounter is so great they have to “drag” the net to shore. I think this is true of blessings I’ve received also. My heart is used to a diet of three square meals a day of soup, sandwiches, and salad - - but the minute someone wants to offer me lobster (e.g. all you can eat lobster) - - by first reaction is one of wow and wonder rather than, “Let’s eat.” My heart wants to soak in this blessing and make sense of it first. I can’t digest all of it at once because Christ’s abundant blessing is much bigger than my small hardened heart. And I think Jesus shows us/me in the scripture that he knows this miraculous blessing will “wow” us, so he helps us unpack it. “Bring some of the fish you just caught.” “Let me help you unpack that. Let me help you enjoy this blessing I want to give you. This is what I am about. I want to bless you with abundance. Let me help you.”

Jump in With Both Feet
The scripture tells us that Peter “jumped into the sea” upon hearing “It is the Lord.” Peter is the excitable apostle it seems who always wants to walk on the water with Jesus, be bathed entirely by Jesus on Holy Thursday, and wields his sword when Jesus is betrayed by Judas in the garden. I see myself in Peter in this reading in many ways, but what I see Jesus trying to uncover in his questioning of Peter is, “What’s underneath you enthusiasm for me and my ministry? You just returned to fishing a few hours ago, and the six other apostles followed you. You have been with me three years, and I know you are my friend, but do you love me? Are you willing and prepared to follow me? Do you love me more than these? Do you love me more than fishing? Do you love me enough to give up your old way of life and suffer and die for me? Those are big questions.

The stakes in the conversation are elevated by the fact that this is the first recorded time Peter has spoken to Jesus since he denied him three times. So in a sense Jesus is saying in a back-handed way, “I already forgive you for denying me,Peter. So don’t worry about it. What I really want to know is if you love me so that I know where our relationship stands in the future. Can I trust you? Can I rely on you? I’ve got big plans, and I think you’re the man for the job, but I need to know if you’re up for this.”

In my own life, believe it or not, I’ve been practicing for this conversation with Jesus. To overcome some of the past fears in my life I regularly spend time praying and meditating by the north branch of the Chicago River. It’s a beautiful and peaceful place. As part of my meditation, I step into the river with both feet (with my shoes on) and tell the Lord I’m ready for whatever he is calling me to do. I ask him just to shepherd me and reveal the path to me so that I can participate in his Kingdom. It has been a helpful ritual for my spiritual growth and to practice saying “Yes, Lord you know that I love you.”

A Short Course in Love
In summary, as I’m learning, I think John 21 is a short training course on Christ’s love for us. In the first phase, call it Love 1.0, Jesus shows us the abundant life he wants to bless us with as his Beloved (i.e. an overflowing net of fish). It the second phase, call it Love 2.0, Christ calls us to participate in his Kingdom and be his reflection of love in the world. Yes, he wants us to praise him, but he also wants us to participate with him and be his hands and feet - - with feet that jump out of the fishing boat in a spirit of excitement and commitment that challenges us to give up our old way of life (i.e. fishing), and with hands that aren’t afraid to heal the sick or be stretched across the cross to suffer in his name.

Are We Afraid of Socialism or Just Afraid of Sharing?

It's been interesting observing the whole healthcare debate over the past year in the U.S. and what lines of defense and arguments people have been hanging their hat on. At the same time we all know that we collectively depend on government in specific areas of our lives to make our country run effectively, (whether we like it or not) to provide a strong military, welfare to the poor, some kind of educational standards, and laws that try to reflect our morality.

Amidst this debate, however, fear seems to always be the trump card that is played to try and convince people that government intervention is bad. I'm not siding with one point of view or another, but just observing that in America we seem to be acting like immature adolescents in the public forum more often than not because none of us seems to have the stomachs or attention spans for an informed debate with some give and take.

Our collective psyche seems to be bent on the dualism of labeling someone's approach or ideas as "wrong," rather than figuring out how to solve real problems with real solutions. I would go so far as to say that because of this dualistic debate and the related partisanship, that our leaders are no longer focused on solving problems for Americans at large, but on winning arguments and fighting for self-preservation (aka re-election).

So what's the solution? I say it's humility and charity - - practices that cause each of us (especially our leaders) to be vulnerable and die to themselves - - and think of the other guy, not just their own necks. Because we are not more humble and charitable as a country, I think THAT is why we are creating more government-funded (aka socialist) policies. "I'm not willing to directly help my neighbor who's lost their job, but I'll begrudgingly allow the government take something out of my paycheck to help them."

Humility and charity come from love, generosity, and a sense that life is not just about ME. Socialism comes from abdicating responsibility for those in need to government. Socialism is growing out of an individualistic culture in America that is more focused on it's own welfare than the welfare of others. So we triangulate the care we give our neighbor via the government rather than helping them directly ourselves. To be blunt, our country is too selfish and individualistic to help our neighbor, so we outsource that help to the government. That is what socialism really is in my opinion.

As Jesus showed us, the feeding of the 5,000 only occurred because a few gave what little they had (fishes and loaves) so the Lord could bless it and create abundance. If we don't participate in service to others through humility and charity, God can't bless our work and create abundance from it. So I think the only way to stop socialistic changes in society is to create more REAL Christians, Christians who will love, feed, and clothe thy neighbor, not just go to Church on Sunday. Can we do that? I'm not sure.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus say, "The poor you will always have with you but I will only be with you a short time." In meditating on this scripture I've come to realize that our heart for loving the poor and those in need will never be as big as the heart of Jesus, so yes, we WILL always have the poor with us.

Finally, I would offer that capitalism isn't necessarily better than the renewed socialist direction our country is taking. The previous administration in Washington had no interest in addressing the healthcare debate so instead the current administration did. A market-based economy is great for creating jobs and wealth, but in a capitalistic society there will always be, as Jesus said, those who do not have jobs and wealth. So what's our long-term strategy to help them? Humility and charity. Only our hearts can fix these societal ills, not our wallets, not a government program - - and that's what Jesus wants from us.

I was at a church meeting six months ago where a wealthy man in the audience was upset by the idea that the government was going to increase his tax rate to help fund programs for the poor (aka socialism), and it was interesting to observe his anger. He said, "I should be able to decide what charities my money goes to, not the government." I think his heart was in the right place, but it seemed like his pride was getting in the way too. At the same time, however, I think he was trying to say, as a Christian, that I'd rather be charitable to my neighbor rather than the government telling me how charitable I should be (via government programs and increased taxes).

At the end of the day, I think the only solution is to realize that in all of our actions we are working to build the Kingdom of God, not our own individual kingdoms. It's all God's money to begin with, we're just stewards of it for a short time here on earth. So as long as we're humble and charitable with our gifts, God will take care of the rest and make sure those in need are taken care of, in the same way that Jesus fed the 5,000. So the answer isn't socialism or capitalism, the answer is humility and charity.

Making the Gospel Stories Our Own

As an adult Christian I am learning to get to know Jesus both as a man, as a historical figure, and as the risen Christ, and each of these ways of knowing him has its own layers to it. Jesus was a man who had a mother and father like I do, he enjoyed table fellowship like I do, and he enjoyed time in prayer like I do. As a historical figure living 2000 years ago, Jesus lived in a culture, geography, and political climate different than I live in now, but I can try to study those times and extrapolate his experience to my experience (e.g. customs, dress, rituals). And finally, the deepest layer I’ve come to know Jesus as is the risen Christ - - as a person, as a voice, as a Spirit who speaks to me in my daily life, through the scriptures, in my relationships, and in the Mass.

Having been introduced to the practice of Ignatian prayer several years ago, I have had moving experiences of meeting Jesus on the Road to Emmaus, meeting him on the road with Bartemeus, meeting him among the tombs in Genesaret, and on the road back home from a foreign land with the Prodigal Son. By sitting with these scriptures for a period of time, meditating on them, and putting myself in the scene, Jesus has revealed himself to me through the characters in these stories. As such, it’s been not so much a process of me making these Gospel stories my own, but of the scriptures revealing the risen Christ to me in them.

Without a deeper way of knowing the scriptures, and Christ through them, the scripture stories remain just stories, as John Shea notes. It’s difficult to hear a story over and over again and have it be fresh exciting, and generative (Shea, p. 51). As Shea suggests, I’ve had to learn to get out of the way of the story and find a new way of seeing.

For me, when I am able to meet Christ in scripture, he meets me in my wounded places, seeing wounds I may not have revealed to anyone else, but he seems to know intrinsically they are there. I’ve been the fearful, possessed man dwelling among the tombs in shackles and chains in Gerasenes (Mark 5:1), I’ve been the lonely, Prodigal starving in a foreign land, longing to eat the husks of corn the pigs were fed (Luke 15:11), I’ve been the hard-hearted apostle unable to see Christ walking with them on the Road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13), and I’ve been the persistent Bartimaeus who comes face-to-face with the Jesus who asks him, “What do you want me to do for you? (Mark 10:46).”

In getting to know Jesus Christ, I’ve always been intrigued by what John the Baptist says to his follows when Jesus first arrives on the scene, “I must decrease so that he can increase.” For me, this scripture describes the self-emptying journey that John Shea is talking about in Gospel Light. It’s about being present in mind, body, and Spirit, but letting the Spirit of the risen Christ speak through my life, rather than letting the mind or body being in control and running the show. As Shea says, “We participate in the Divine Being at every moment (Shea, p.40).” When I’m living a life attuned to the Spirit, I move beyond the dualism of compartmentalizing my prayer time and work time, joys and suffering, and good times and bad. As Richard Rohr says, I come to know that “everything belongs.” Every aspect of my life becomes fertilizer for Christ to plant his seed and grow something. So even when I don’t see the flowers blooming, I know that the eternal gardener is at work, creating something new.

As an adult Christian, I know that the Gospel stories are speaking to me when a word in the scriptures jumps out at me or moves me to tears. This has the impact of either surprising me when a word jumps out at me - - or humbling me when I’m moved to tears. Lately it’s been tears that have ruled the day; convicting my heart that there is an unmet need in me that only Christ can fill. The tears also tell me that beyond the specific scripture passage I may have read or heard, Christ now has direct access to my heart. His heart is becoming my heart. His joys are my joys, and his sorrows are my sorrows, and he is conforming my heart to his will.

John Shea calls this way of connecting to the scriptures “apprenticing ourselves to the story” (Shea, p.56), such that the spirit of the text has awakens our spirit, stirs our minds to see and understand, and see with the eye of the soul (Shea, p. 60). In doing so war are now considering a common human condition, rather than a specific instance of characters in a scripture story.

As I am called to work in Ministry and continue to learn how to make Christ’s story my own, I see that this transformation to having the heart of Christ is vital. If I can see with the eyes of Christ and feel with his heart, I can be his hands and feet and accept the trials that go along with it. His yoke will be easy and his burden will be light, and I can share the realization of St. Paul when he said, “It is not I who live but Christ who lives within me (Galatians 2:20).” If I am not transformed and don’t accept the heart of Christ in my ministry, I am just a body who is listening to his own mind/ego and is not connected to his eternal purpose. I don’t see Christ in the person I am serving, and my ministry becomes just a job.

In summary, from my experience, becoming a Christian is about making the Gospel stories my own, but, like grace, it’s not something I actually DO. I am just called to show up and be “present to the presence” as Brother Lawrence says. If I am able to be present and empty myself of inordinate attachments within and without, the Gospel stories can speak to me and Christ’s story becomes my story. His tears at Lazarus’ tomb become my tears, his righteous anger at the temple becomes my anger, his death on the cross becomes my death, and his rising to new life becomes my own.

This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased ...

“This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.” These are the words we hear every year right before the first Sunday of Lent after Jesus is baptized by John the Baptist. And I think the season of Lent and the paschal mystery itself is about dying to ourselves and realizing how much Jesus loves us, how Beloved we are.‘I love you so much that I’m willing to be falsely accused for you. I love you so much I’m willing to be scourged for you. I love you so much I’m willing to be ridiculed and spit on for you. And I love you so much that I’m willing to die for you.’ I don’t know about you, but this is a kind of love I have trouble getting my arms around and truly believing and accepting with both my head and my heart.

This Sunday we heard the Parable of the Prodigal Son, a parable many of us have heard before. In the parable, the young Son asks for and squanders his inheritance, but upon his return home is freely received by the loving arms of his father, while the older son is jealous and hard-hearted and refuses to enter his father’s house after this outrageous demonstration of love and mercy toward his younger brother.

We can all identify with the older son I think, who jealousy says, “How dare my father say to my younger brother, ‘this is my beloved son with whom I am well pleased.’ He doesn’t deserve it.” And we can all identify with the younger son too I think, who upon his return, prepares to tell his father, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you, I no longer deserve to be called your son.”

In the end, they’re both right. The Prodigal doesn’t deserve his father’s love and mercy, but it’s given to him anyway. And I think that’s the whole point of this story, our true inheritance is being God’s Beloved, it’s not about the property, the cattle, or the number of servants we have. As you’ll remember at the beginning of the story, the father gives freely the financial inheritance requested by his son without an argument, question, or challenge - - even though culturally at the time it would have been and still is today a tremendous insult for a young man to ask his father to cash-in his inheritance while the father is still alive.

But our TRUE inheritance as believers is that we are, as St. Paul says, “baptized into the blood of Jesus Christ.” His baptism is our baptism, the voice that calls him Beloved calls us Beloved, and the death that he died was for OUR sins, not his own. How outrageous is that? We certainly don’t deserve that kind of inheritance - - but it’s given to us anyway. It’s given to us freely with open arms from the Father who is waiting for us to return home this Lent amidst the sounds of music and dancing.

Whether we’re a son or daughter who has squandered our gifts on a selfish lifestyle like the younger son, or a codependent performance-oriented lifestyle like the older son, we BOTH are granted the same Beloved inheritance by Almighty God. God doesn’t grade on a scale. If we come home to him in a Spirit of love and repentance, we all get “A’s.” Truly, no child is left behind. How radical is that? But we’ve got to come home to him first and show up every day for school. That is what Lent is about. He wants to school us in what our inheritance as his Beloved is about. It’s not about performing outwardly for him during Lent - - giving up this or doing that - - it’s about letting God perform inwardly in our hearts. And he is waiting for us, as in the Parable says, to give him permission to do it.

“This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.”

The reason many of us are passionate about doing social justice work I think is that we have a genuine desire to serve those less fortunate than ourselves and share our gifts and blessings. Sounds like a nice thing to do, right? Our society is good with that. Giving something back, making tax-deductible donations, and looking out for those in need. But where does that desire come from?

Whether we realize it or not, I’d offer that we’re being called to share with others the outrageous love of the Father demonstrated in the Parable of the Prodigal Son: Welcome home with loving arms those who have hurt us. Give our love to those who have squandered their inheritance. Kill the fatted calf and celebrate with the sounds of music and dancing. It’s nice to say, but can really do this? Do we set our sights high enough?

During my recent trip to Israel, I had the realization during a reflection at the banks of the river Jordan, that I was a Beloved son of God, and I shed a few tears as I received that. Fr. Michael who was leading our pilgrimage helped me make a connection between Jesus’ baptism, the devil’s temptation in the desert, and our own lives as the Beloved of God. After his baptism by John, the Lord says to Jesus, “This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased.” Then the Holy Spirit leads Jesus into the desert where the devil tempts him by saying, “If you are the Son of God … then do this,” and if you are the Son of God … do that.” So the devil is simply trying to get Jesus to doubt the truth of his gift of being the Beloved Son of God, doubt the power and integrity of the giver of the gift, God himself, and doubt his need for dependence on God for daily nourishment and subsistence.

As scripture tells us, Jesus passes these three tests from the devil with flying colors to go on to do amazing things with his ministry to the Jews and Gentiles, but how do these tests and temptations stop us from doing amazing things in our work and ministry?

• Do we trust in our inheritance as the Beloved of God to stretch ourselves like Jesus did, or do we do play it safe, and play it small?
• Do we trust in our inheritance as the Beloved of God when we face potential roadblocks and/or suffering, or do we persevere?
• Do we trust in our inheritance as the Beloved of God or do we let our own vision get in the way of what God has planned sometimes?
• Do we trust in our inheritance as the Beloved of God when we are successful, and give gratitude to God for the way he has blessed our work, or do we take the credit?

I’ve learned that if I truly believe I am a Beloved child of God and live into it this blessing every day, the devil and his doubts and temptations can’t touch me. I am a Beloved Son of God and unless I doubt or surrender the integrity of this gift to the devil or someone else, he and his lies can’t touch me. That is why; I believe Lent always begins from the baptism of Jesus, because we always need to be reminded before we go into this time in the desert that we are Beloved sons and daughters of God. Can we conceive it? Do we believe it? Do we receive it? If we do, we can do amazing, unstoppable things.

What St. Paul's Letter to the Romans Has to Teach Us Today

St. Paul’s theology, as demonstrated in the book of Romans, is just as important today as it was at the time he wrote it because we, in the post-modern world, encounter just as many divisions and disagreements within the Christian Church today as Paul did in his time. I believe this has happened because, psychologically, by human nature, all Christians want to know they are “saved” and are going to heaven. As a result, we all naturally become focused on the rules and guidelines of our faith (the Law), and how to get to heaven, rather than living the Spirit of the Law, as Paul describes in Romans.

As we all know and Sigmund Freud would tell you, it’s human nature to try and act obediently in order to avoid punishment (Pregeant, page 259). Paul says in contrast that we are justified by faith in Jesus Christ through God’s grace, and this grace is a gift given freely by God. It cannot be earned by our prescriptive, “good” behaviors as a Christian who is intent on fulfilling the law. In my opinion, the misguided focus of Christians bent on fulfilling the Law to earn salvation today has created, and continues to create divisions and disagreements in the Church about who is doing the faith correctly or incorrectly and, subsequently, who has earned a place in heaven and who has not. Like Paul’s letter to the Romans, today we encounter disagreements in the Church about similar issues:

• Faith vs. works (e.g. Are we saved by faith or by works?)
• Law vs. the Spirit (e.g. Who’s following the right Christian rules and who’s not?)
• The Role of Women in the Church (e.g. Why can’t women become priests?)
• Homosexual Relationships (e.g. Can someone practice a gay lifestyle and still be considered a Christian? Can/should a gay man or woman be allowed to become a minister?)
• Slavery (e.g. Why is there still abuses related to human trafficking and illegal immigrants?)


In this reflection I will address the first two bullet points on this list.

Yesterday I received an e-mail from my Aunt who was feeling out of sorts because she shared with a friend that she was converting to the Catholic faith from her Episcopal roots. The friend proceeded to beg her to change her mind for fear that she would end up going to hell. Unfortunately, I have other Catholic friends who struggle with the same objections from their evangelical friends during discussions about their Christian faith practices. In Romans, however, Paul tells the Church community that, despite their judgments to the contrary, all people are held under the “power of sin” - - whether Gentile, Jew, or pagan - - yet we are all justified by our faith in Jesus Christ and his promise of salvation (Pregeant, p. 245, 248, 250), just as Abraham was (Ludwig, p.7). God’s righteous action restores our relationship with him through Christ, and we cannot perform specific acts or say specific prayers to earn his grace. Paul goes on to say that righteousness is based on faith, not the Law, and subsequently obedience to the law is a dead end (Pregeant, p. 247, 249).

Paul’s writings on this issue are obviously applicable to today, but I would point out that, in my experience, someone cannot be argued out of their allegiance to specific faith practices (e.g. Law). That’s where the Holy Spirit comes in. The Spirit and God’s grace purifies the hearts of Christians over time through the practice of prayer so they come to know the truth of faith in their hearts, not just in their heads.

Based on my earlier example and experience, it’s interesting to compare how typical evangelicals and Catholics interact in today’s society, similar to how the Jewish and Gentile Christians addressed in Romans must have interacted in Paul’s time. Like the Jewish Pharisees, most evangelicals today know and can quote scripture better than any Catholic can. As such, like the Jews of Paul’s time, this knowledge of scripture for evangelicals is an advantage but can also be a stumbling block. If you have the mindset that the written Word of God is the Word of God (aka the Bible), and if something is not written in the Bible then it obviously can’t be true, I think this mindset can create blinders that crowd out God’s ability to get one’s attention and teach you anything through the Holy Spirit. Just look at Paul’s own experience. He was so militantly obedient to the Jewish Law that God had to knock him over and blind him for three penitential days before scales fell from his eyes and he “saw the light” of his calling to become an apostle of Jesus Christ. So Paul’s letter to the Romans reinforces for us today that faith has to always be a heart thing and not just a head thing. It’s not about the rules, but the grace, and God is the one who gives the grace. We can only ask for it and receive it in God’s time and measure.

Being a Christian is also not about who’s in the “salvation club” and who’s not. It’s a recognition that we’re all in the “sinner club”, and we can only be a part of the “salvation club” if we nurture a committed relationship with Jesus Christ in both faith and works. According to Paul, Christ provides what the law could not, freedom from sin and death (Pregeant, p. 249). Once we let go of worrying about who’s in or out of the “salvation club,” and focus on living in the Spirit of our faith, Christ (and Paul’s) message of loving our neighbor as ourselves can come into sharper focus. The net benefit of this is that we all end up trying to lift up each other’s boats through our love, rather than being isolated and just working on our own personal relationship with Jesus. As Paul describes, the life of a believer is a life of love that is worked out in our daily walk as Christians (Pregeant, p. 258). Some days we do it well, and other days we do it poorly. It’s a journey, but our Christian faith calls us to live and love in humility, charity, community, and a cheerful hope to persevere in our trials (Ludwig, 9).


Two-thousand years later, it’s apparent we still have much to learn from Paul’s letter the Romans. We Christians are still debating what it means to be a good Christian, we’re still sinning, and we’re trying to learn how live in God’s good graces. So if Paul’s letter was re-sent to us as a text message titles, “A letter to the Chicagoans,” it would be just as relevant to our lives as it was to the Romans in their time.

By His Wounds We Are Healed

At face value, Jesus’ teachings in the gospels are just that: teachings - - words to live by, moral guidelines, affirmations of what it means to be holy, and instruction on how to be a good and faithful servant. Yet there’s more, much more: a flourish of parable, paradox, allegory and metaphor. However you sift these teachings for meaning, the grandest parable Jesus told is the one he spoke with his own flesh and blood, the parable of his death and the resurrection.

The Pharisees of Jesus’ time often used allegorical stories to teach the Jews about the Torah and how to live the covenant life Moses established with Yahweh. During his three years of ministry, Jesus challenged the Pharisees and their instruction to Jews on the Law because, (1), the Pharisees had become blind to the original Spirit of the Law, and (2), the Pharisees hypocritically preached obedience to the Law bit didn’t practice it themselves.

In contrast to the Pharisees’ use of allegories, the heart of Jesus’ teaching was delivered via parables. He told parables about The Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the Sower, and so on. Unfortunately, Jesus’ disciples often had difficulty understanding these parables and Jesus had to explain the parables to them, including his final parable, the parable of his death and resurrection, which he explained, for instance, to Cleopas on the Road to Emmaus, and Thomas and the twelve in the Upper Room.

Most of Jesus’ parables became allegories or example stories upon their re-telling and recording by the apostles over time (Ludwig, 1). This is of key importance and distinction because an allegory points symbolically to realities of which the listener is familiar, while a parable suggests metaphorical meaning and demands creative interpretation by the audience (Pregeant, 345). In telling parables, and in ultimately demonstrating his own death and resurrection, Jesus was not interested in giving us simple pointers for daily living but in challenging us to a radical new way of living that requires the use of our imagination to understand. I think it is appropriate to say that Jesus was both a parable and a paradox in how he taught and lived. His vision of the Kingdom, for instance, was contradictory to what his followers expected, but in reinterpreting what the Kingdom meant, he revealed an even deeper truth.

How did Jesus’ death and resurrection become a parable? Reading the scriptures, the parable seems to unfold as part of Jesus’ teachings and is then later explained by Jesus himself after demonstrating the parable of his resurrection. In this way he seems to give the standard Dale Carnegie business presentation to the apostles: I’m going to tell you what I’m going to tell you, tell you, and recap by telling you what I told you. While Jesus is alive, for example, he says to his apostles:

• "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." (John 2:19)
• “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24)
• "Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)
• “From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.” (Matthew 16:21)
• “For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink.” (John 6:55)

After delivering some of these parabolic phrases, Jesus attempts to explain them to the apostles at various times and they clearly have difficulty understanding him:
• After relaying the Parable of the Sower: “He said to them, "Do you not understand this parable? How will you understand all the parables?” (Matthew 4:13)
• After describing the type of death he would die, Jesus says to Peter: “Get behind me Satan!” (Matthew 16:23)

In the midst of his passion, Jesus even attempts to explain the parable of his life and death to Pilate in John 18:33-38:

Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?” “Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “It was your people and your chief priests who handed you over to me. What is it you have done?” Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.” “You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus answered, “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

Pilate, like the apostles has two feet firmly planted in the physical world, and has trouble grasping the paradox and parable of what Jesus is actually talking about. Who is this guy? Is he a king? If so, where is his Kingdom? What is truth? Why doesn’t he just come out with it instead of speaking in parables? Doesn’t he know I have the power to release him or crucify him?

Ultimately, by seeing Jesus die on the cross, rise from the dead, and leave nothing but an empty tomb and a pile of burial dressings as evidence, the apostles begin to ‘believe but don’t understand.’ They garner the faith that the parable of Jesus’ death and resurrection is true, and not just a clever allegorical story or a tale of dynamic rhetoric.

• At the empty tomb, Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James remembered his words, “The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.” (Luke 24:7)
• On the Road to Emmaus, Jesus says to Cleopas, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.” (Luke 25:27)

When Jesus’ Palm Sunday did not lead to Messianic Monday, the apostles’ hopes were dashed, and like Cleopas, they tried to move on and get on with their lives, despite their disappointment. They didn’t get the parable! Their imagination could not conceive that Jesus could still ‘win’ after ‘losing’ on the cross. They knew Jesus’ teachings but the teachings still only had metaphorical or allegorical meaning to them:

• “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” (Matthew 16:25)
• “But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.” (Matthew 19:30)
• “And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." (Luke 22:19)

After Jesus’ many post-resurrection appearances, the apostles did, however; finally ‘get’ the parable and this parable now blew their minds and captured their imagination. If God can raise a man from the dead, what else can he do? The apostles dejection and depression now became boundless hope (Ludwig, 11), and Jesus’ resurrection became more than the bodily return of their friend and teacher, but a redemptive event (Pregeant, 91). The parable predicted by Isaiah and the prophets before him was now a reality, “Son of man, I send you to the children of Israel, to nations that are rebellious, which have rebelled against me,” (Ezekiel 2:3) and “by his stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

Jesus: The Main Event

Jesus is both a person and an event in history. He happened at a certain time, at a certain place in Galilee of the late 20s, yet he is still happening today. You might ask, how is that possible?

Jesus’ Kingdom is already but not yet. By being the Kingdom of God in the way he walked, talked, healed, and prayed in Galilee in the 20s, he created the Kingdom everywhere he went. When he walked among his apostles, followers, and objectors he breathed the disruption of the Kingdom of God into the lives of everyone he touched. Most everyone was intrigued, but generally, those with power and status feared and challenged him while those without power and status listened, followed, and rejoiced in the Good News he preached.

In practical terms, while the man of Jesus began teaching his difficult message of the Kingdom to the enslaved Jews in the 20s, Herod Antipas and other Roman leaders couldn’t have known or cared less about him. They just wanted to continue a peaceful rule, complete their grand construction projects, and have their taxes paid to fund the projects. Crossan calls this situation “urbanization for commercialization.” Meanwhile, in Galilee, however, the farmers, peasants, and fisherman bore the brunt of this Roman commercial vision and were painfully moving from being poor to destitute. Jesus the man offered a socio-economic alternative: “Come follow me” - - an invitation to hear him, share fellowship, and embrace hope in the Kingdom event he spoke of happening in their daily lives right now! (It was a message of hope and light in the vein of what later became called, Liberation Theology, centuries later, as African Americans and the Salvadorans in the 1980-1990s came to know it.) In concrete terms, Jesus’ most receptive audience in the 20s was the poor. The poor really “heard” the gospel (e.g. “Those with ears to hear, should hear”). Those with a radical need, the begging & prayerful, connected with the radical message of Jesus and the Kingdom more easily because they had less to lose and everything to gain.

So how could Jesus be both a man and an event, or a man and a Kingdom? To borrow a phrase from Clayton Christensen, Jesus was/is a “disruptive technology.” As Jesus’ contemporaries discovered, yes, Jesus was a man. Yes, he was a Jew. Yes, he was the son to a man named Joseph and a woman named Mary - - yet he was also a radical and a revolutionary to some - - while being a troublemaker and blasphemer to others. As defined, disruptive technologies are innovations that improve a product or service in ways that the market does not expect (Wikipedia). They are particularly threatening to the leaders of an existing market, because they create competition coming from an unexpected direction (Wikipedia). This is exactly the effect that Jesus had on the places he lived and preached in Galilee in the 20s. He was unexpected, threatening, and created competition for the Jews and Romans in power at the time. Who was this “disruptive technology” called Jesus? No one seemed to know for sure at the time:

- Who did the people of his hometown say he was? “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I came down from heaven (John 6:42)?” Where did this man get all this (Mark 6:1)?”

- Who did the people in other towns and villages say he was? “John the Baptist; and others say, Eli'jah; and others one of the prophets.” (Mark 8:27)

- Even John the Baptist himself asks who he is, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" (Matthew 11:3)

- Finally, Jesus poses the question to his disciples, and asks, “Who do you say I am?” (Matthew 16:15), and Peter responds by saying, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Jesus replied, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 16:16-17)

So, Jesus and his message of the Kingdom is the “disruptive technology” of his time and, as a result, people across the board want to know who he is and why he is. To the poor, oppressed and outcast Jews under the Roman rule of Herod Antipas, his disruption is welcomed (e.g. show us the way and save us from our oppression and poverty), while those Jews and Romans in positions of power and status question and reject him (e.g. thanks, but no thanks Jesus, we like things the way they are). Finally, in speaking to the apostle Peter in the quotation above, Jesus acknowledges the “assist” that the Holy Spirit is giving Peter to help him “make the leap” in knowing who he is and what he is about. This is a leap that others, “without ears to hear,” have trouble making.

Jesus is both a person and an event because he disrupts the societal norms of the time with his message of the Kingdom, which is often told through parables. He disrupts the status quo by healing the sick, eating with sinners, and telling radical parables that flip the expected storyline on its head to challenge the listener to look at and live in the world in a completely different way. His parables startle and jolt the listener into thinking differently, challenging them to take an imaginative leap into the metaphorical while they might otherwise be more comfortable resting in the safety of the literal. It’s not a comfortable message, yet it isn’t meant to be. It’s not a cosmic message that is meant to happen somewhere “out there,” it’s a personal message that’s meant to happen “in here.”

Listening to and truly hearing Jesus’ parables demands a change of heart, a change of mind, and a changed action. Parables like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan shake our personal foundations if we let them (Ludwig, page 12). These parables portray the undoing of a myth, and, if taken seriously, can undo our reality (e.g. “Really, the Samaritan is the hero, and the Prodigal is received by the father with open arms? Why? That’s not the way things work in our world. Why would God think and act differently? That can’t be!). As such, the parables are more than the moral lesson or example story they appear to be on the surface, they point to the painful proposition that if we (and Jesus’ contemporaries) are to become the person of Jesus today and bring the event of Jesus’ Kingdom to our daily lives, we need to humbly adopt a change of heart, mind, and action. We “get ahead” in this world by “getting behind” the man of Jesus and his ridiculous, challenging parables, and by doing so we can participate in the event of Jesus - - the Kingdom of God - - in our daily lives.

The First Shall Be Last and the Last Shall Be First

The central focus of Jesus’ ministry is to preach, teach, and demonstrate God’s radical grace, and, by doing so, stir up the surrounding socio-political environment. It is a continual call to action. Jesus does this from the beginning of his ministry when he declares, “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand,” and he continues it to the end when he dies on the cross - - dying as a criminal, rather than a king.

Jesus is a radical teacher, preacher, and healer. He heals the sick, casts off demons, and calms the seas. He goes toe to toe with the Pharisees in interpreting and explaining the scriptures. But his overall message, the message that permeates all his ministry is of God’s radical grace and love - - a love that does not conform to social norms or expectations. It is a love that delights, surprises, puzzles, and annoys. These are teachings that were hard for first century Christians, and they continue to be hard teachings for Christians today.

The radical grace and love Jesus speaks of is illustrated throughout the parables. For instance, in parable of the Pearl in Matthew 13:44-45, the gift of grace calls the individual toward a response that is radical and risky - - selling everything and buy a field of buried treasure. Other parables put at odds the rich and poor, the accepted and the rejected, those with status against those without status, and ultimately Caesar’s reign against the reign of God.

Jesus confronts Pharisaic legalism in the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), challenging the view that, through the eyes of the older brother, human beings can somehow merit divine favor through their own actions, separate from God’s grace. In doing so, Jesus also confronts the attitude of resentment that some, like the older brother would have, when God’s grace seems to fall on those who don’t deserve it, like the younger son.

Jesus takes on Jewish dietary regulations in Mark 7:15, saying, “There is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile.” This teaching must have perplexed the Pharisees who were focused on obediently serving Yahweh by observing 600-plus purity laws. They must have thought, “He must be joking. If we abandon these purity laws, how will we be able to tell who’s a sinner and who’s not. We’ll lose our status and power.” This theme carries over in the parable of the Great Supper (Luke 14:16-24), when Jesus shows that those that are concerned about their social standing are really unimportant in the big scheme of things. The affluent refuse the banquet invitation, while the socially outcast sit and dine at table. The blindness that occurs due to the affluent’s social status, robs them from the surprising, gracious gift of God’s love in the banquet.

Jesus shatters conventional wisdom about love of neighbor in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37). To the listener’s surprise, the hated Samaritan becomes the hero. The story demands the overthrow of prior values, closed options, set judgments, and established conclusions (Pregeant, page 67). In the parable, Jesus shows that the love of God, like the Samaritan, looks radically beyond the constraints and prejudices of society to act and do what its right whatever someone’s race, religion, or ethnicity may be. This theme is picked up again Matthew 5:39-46, when Jesus challenges his audience to turn the other cheek and love their enemies.

The role of women in society is questioned and challenged by Jesus in the parable of the Unjust Judge (Luke 18:1-8). In the parable, Jesus, speaks of a woman who, by challenging a judge, proceeds to cross social barriers and boundaries because she refuses to accept the judge’s denial of her plea for justice. Women in the first century Middle East were marginalized, but Jesus never seemed to care about what other’s thought of him being in the company of women, whether he was speaking to Mary Magdalene or the Samaritan woman at the well.

Jesus challenges the belief that financial success was a sign of God’s favor in Mark 10:25, when he tells the apostles, “It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God.” Jesus goes one step further in Mark 12:16 when he says about the payment of taxes, “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” In these teachings Jesus seems to be saying that both individual wealth and the wealth and power of governments is nothing compared to the wealth of riches to be gained through the Kingdom of God.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus is a radical lover and teacher who challenges social and political norms. He hangs out with the wrong crowd, he breaks societal norms, and he has no status, yet he teaches with authority. In all of his parables and teachings, Jesus seems to be saying, “Listen to me - - my Father’s love is bigger than all of your daily concerns and worries to pay taxes, follow rules, work for prosperity, and fight for status. All I want you to do is love me and love your neighbor and if you take the radical leap and do that, the rest will take care of itself. Other people may not like you or agree with you if you do this, but if you do it, you will be blessed and will share in my Kingdom.”

Greco-Roman Influences on Judaism

In the Second Temple period, the impact of Hellenism and the Roman Empire are the most significant influences on Jewish culture that ultimately shape the historical-cultural setting prior to Jesus’ time. Their influences paint a canvas of thought, faith, and culture that serve, as a backdrop for the society that New Testament Jews like Jesus would later live in.

Prior to the rule of Alexander the Great, the temple in Jerusalem was rebuilt in 515 B.C.E. In concert with these events, Ezra helped establish obedience to the Torah as a key facet of Jewish religious observance. The temple and the Torah were two key elements of the religious identity for Jews prior to the advent of Hellenism.

After coming under Greek rule, the Jews were exposed to the Greek language, Greek-style cities - - as well as Greek philosophy, sport, thought (e.g. math, science, and medicine), and culture. As one would expect, Greek ideas penetrated local religions and various deities.

From philosophy from the Hellenistic age, you can glean concepts that eventually made their way into Judeo-Christian thinking as the distinction between religion and philosophy became blurred. There was a shift of focus from the overall social structure to a concern with the individual good. For instance, from the Epicurus we get the belief that one should love their neighbor as their self, and from Diogenes we get the idea of rejecting personal wealth and detaching from the world. In the big picture, there was also the development of the idea of a universal, divine being (e.g. from Isis).

During the period of Diaspora, Jews often struggled to hold onto their historical and religious practices while living among Gentiles in a Greek-dominated world. To adapt, they eventually adopted the Greek language and wrote a Greek version of the scriptures called the Septuagint. This meant that different sects of Jews might now speak Aramaic (for common usage), Hebrew (for religious study), or Greek (for use by the upper class).

The Book of Daniel, an important apocalyptic text, emerged during the final conflict between Judaism and Hellenism in 165, during the Maccabean War, when a group of Jews seized control of Jerusalem. This literature was considered an example of the “literature of the oppressed.” On the heels of Maccabeus’ victory against the Seleucids in 165, the text gained notoriety as a kind of divine playbook that described how God would establish a divine ruler who would bring the world to an end and punish the unrighteous. The emergence of this apocalyptic text is important because it is later adopted in Christian circles but is rejected by the Jews.

In addition to the Book of Daniel, the Wisdom writings are produced during the Hellenistic period, approximately 100 B.C. E. They advance the idea of personal immortality and the dualism of a body and soul.

After the star of Hellenism finally faded, the Roman Empire became heir to the two century-long Greek legacy of thought, culture, and rule in 63 B.C.E. While Roman rule was initially welcomed, Jews eventually became resentful of the Roman leaders over time and attempted several revolts. During Roman rule, however, Rabbinic Judaism emerged and the Jewish canon took its final form. The Mishnah and the Talmud were also formed, providing Jews oral law and a running commentary on the scriptures.