Friday, March 15, 2013

The Encounter of the Miserable with the Merciful

An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year C, John 8:1-11, March 17, 2013

IT MAY BE NOTICED, if one cares to observe people closely, that the most compassionate and merciful persons to those who have fallen into such mortal sin as murder, adultery and apostasy, or those whom society reject are those who lead holy lives.  One, for example, need not doubt the compassion of the late Mother Theresa for the scum of the earth.  On the other hand, those who easily condemn people who commit mistake and who cannot easily forgive those who wrong them are those who are self-righteous.  The latter usually demand high standards that they themselves are not able to meet.  Nowhere is this true than in the Gospel of the Fifth Sunday of Lent, which relates an incident about a woman who was caught in the very act of adultery (John 7:53-8:11).  (This story, it may be observed, seems not a part of the original Gospel of John.  For one thing, it is not found in all the best manuscripts.  Those that contain it place it after 7:36, others at the end of the Gospel.  Moreover, other manuscripts have it in the Gospel of Luke.  Many scholars note that the style is more Lukan than Johannine.  But there is a point to the opinion that the narrative took a long time before it could be included in the Gospel because of the quick and uncomplicated forgiveness of the woman, which seems to contradict the harsh and rigorous penitential discipline in the early Church.  But it is an authentic story that goes back to the historical Jesus.)
 
            In the Gospel of John, it may be noted that the preaching of Jesus had such an impact that the Jewish leaders plotted his death (5:18; 7:1).  In their determination to expose him as a false prophet and thereby condemn him, they tried to score a point in law.  While Jesus was teaching in the Temple area, the Scribes and Pharisees brought to him a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery.  They thought of putting him in a dilemma: if he should agree to have her stoned, he could appear as an enemy of Rome, which alone had the authority over capital punishment.  If he would not, he could break the Jewish law, which prescribes stoning for adulterers:  “If within the city a man comes upon a maiden who is betrothed, and has relations with her, you shall bring them both out to the gate of the city and there stone them to death” (Deut 22:22-23; see also Lev 20:10).  (The dilemma resembles to the one on the question of paying taxes to Caesar (Mark 12:13-17).  If Jesus favors the paying of taxes to the Emperor, the common people would reject him, for they saw the paying of taxes as a violation of the commandment that there is only one Lord who gave Israel their land.  But if he counsels non-payment of taxes, the Roman would mark him a rebel.)
 
            Poor woman!  Dragged out from the experience of personal intimacy, she must have been distraught and disoriented to find herself amid men pointing their accusing fingers to her!  She must have covered her head to escape recognition.  But what is odious here is not simply that they exposed her shame.  It is rather the motive of the Pharisees and Scribes.  And they justified their means with it.  They were simply using her in their controversy with Jesus over the Jewish law.  In fact, they were not even interested in the law.  All they wanted was to pin Jesus.  They had no qualms about dragging a woman through the mud, treating her as an object to parade their zeal for the law.  But the God that Jesus preached is not a God of legalism.  He is a God who puts priority on the human person over the law.  Before him, who really is without sin?  (“All men have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God” [Rom 3:23]).  Who does not stand under condemnation?  If God were to judge us according to his Word, who would survive?  (cf Ps 130:3). 
 
As in the story about the question of paying taxes to Caesar, Jesus in this narrative threw the burden of the problem to the questioners by his advise: “Let the man among you who has no sin be the first to cast a stone at her” (John 8:7b).  In uttering these words, Jesus exposed the self-righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees.  Thinking over these words, they must have realized their unexposed, hidden faults, and under the gaze of Jesus, became ashamed of them, as one by one they drifted away, beginning with the eldest (John 8:9).  For one thing, how in the world they knew adultery was going on?   By going away without a word, they admitted that they were no less sinful than they woman the dragged out.  Which is enough to disqualify them from judging her.  “By your judgment you convict yourself, since you do the very same things” (Rom 2:1b).  But as we noted last Sunday, God is a God of love and compassion.  He loves us even in our sinfulness:  “It is precisely in this that God proves his love for us: that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).
 
            Jesus avoided the dilemma by raising the issue from mere legalism to what really matters.  In sharp contrast with the Scribes and Pharisees, Jesus faced the woman as a human person, an object of God’s love, compassion and mercy.  It must have been a liberating experience for the woman to realize that all her accusers have walked away; she, who was miserable, was left alone to face Jesus who embodied the mercy and compassion of God.  In the famous words of St Augustine, Relicti sunt duo: misera et misericordia.  The Lord--even though he could have judged because he had no sin, unlike those who wished to stone her-- never uttered a word of condemnation.  All he offered was the love of God, and that love would have enabled her to start a new life: “You may go, but from now on, avoid sin” (John 8:11).  Sin in society is not stamped out by killing sinners; that would only multiply sin.  To kill criminals is to perpetuate murder and criminality.  The community grows when all realize that they are all a party to sin, and when sinners are given the chance to repent and experience the love and mercy of God.

Friday, March 8, 2013

God's Merciful Love for the Lost and the Self-Righteous

 

An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year C, Luke 15:1-3.11-33, March 10, 2013


HOW DO WE TREAT the members of our community who do not behave according to the standard of the dominant society?  In today’s Gospel, we have an example of such a person: a prodigal son who, selfish and extravagant, got his inheritance and squandered his money with whores and on dissolute living.  Having become destitute, he even longed to eat the husks that were fodder for pigs, but no one gave him anything (Luke 15:12-16).  Philosophers might describe him as a short-lived epicurean—“Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die”—but we who have no leisure for the abstract would call him profligate.  Obviously, such a man has nothing to contribute to progress and development.  On the contrary, if his behavior were conducted at a national level, he would ruin the economy.  We really have no use for him. How do we treat people like him?   In our society, we expect him to be in jail, if merely to ignore him would not suffice.  Of course, he has nothing that we can be proud of; we would disinherit him for shaming us.  Such is our usual thinking and attitude.  But as Christians, how do we deal with such a person?
 
 
            The parable, which is traditionally known as the parable of the prodigal son, provides two answers we can learn from.  The first one is given by the elder son.  Having learned that his profligate brother was back, he did not even bother to see him, still less join the merrymaking.  For him, since his brother was unredeemable, dissolute and sinful, the book should be thrown at him.  He should suffer the consequences of his action.  Having squandered his share of the estate and therefore having lost his rights to partake what now belongs to him, why should he receive ring, the finest robe and a new pair of shoes?  Why give a party and kill the fatted calf?  (Luke 15:22-23). Since he sinned seriously, he did not deserve this royal welcome.  There is simply no justice there, especially in view of the fact that his Father did not even give him, the elder brother, so much as a kid goat to celebrate with his friend, even though he never disobeyed his orders (Luke 15:29). Logically enough, he would not join a sinner in a party.  The thinking and attitude of the elder son is easily identified with those of the Pharisees and Scribes.  They criticized Jesus for welcoming sinners into his company, and eating with them.
 
 
            The second one is given by the father.  In the parable, the Father of the two sons was so loving to his prodigal, younger son that he did not even allow him to finish his prepared piece.  What was important to him was that he was back, and so it was time to hold feast.  He overlooked the sinfulness of his son; instead of severely reprimanding his son, he embraced him without any criticism, recriminations, but with total forgiveness and mercy.  The fact is, he had been longing for his son to come back (Luke 15:20a).  And now that he was back, it was time to put the past into oblivion and to make merry:  “Let us eat and celebrate because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life.  He was lost and is found” (Luke 15:23).  Such an attitude and behavior may be, in our very human, all too human thinking, very inappropriate, for we usually think that one must first pay his debts before he could be accepted to the normal society.  But God’s behavior is different from ours.  And that is how he wants us to behave and treat the sinful members of our community.  That explains why Jesus welcomed sinners and ate with them.  God is generous and extravagant in his love.  Like the father in the parable, he takes the initiative in reconciling himself with sinners.  Paul explicitly asserts: “It is precisely in this that God proves his love for us: that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).  In Christ, he even went to the extent of identifying himself with them: “For our sakes God made him who did not know sin to be sin, so that in him we might become the very holiness of God” (2 Cor 5:21).  That is why it is preferable to title this story as a parable of a father’s love, instead of the parable of the prodigal son, for the focus, no doubt about it, is God’s love for sinners.  His love is so different from ours!
 
 
            It is worth emphasizing that God’s love is not only shown to the outcast of society, like the prodigal son.  He also loves the self-righteous, like the Pharisees and the Scribes, whom the elder son represents.  In the parable, the elder son resents that his father, instead of punishing him for wantonness, gave his brother ring and new clothes and threw a party for his coming back.  It is as if he did not like that his brother was entirely forgiven.  He was righteously indignant that his father wholly welcomed his wayward brother.  When we are righteous, we are often jealous that God cares for sinners.  But the truth is, we are no less sinful, because we are trapped in our own righteousness.  That is why the father in the parable sought the elder brother, too!  He said that everything he had was his.  Thus, he reminded the elder brother that everything the latter had comes from him.  Moreover, what the elder brother needed was a lesson on fraternal charity and forgiveness.  
 
             A community, of course, does not grow merely by following the rules of society.  There may be order, which is the purpose of law, but that would not create an atmosphere that is conducive to authentic living.  For a community grows when there is love, which law cannot give.  Law without love is like a body without spirit—it is dead.  But when there is love, there is also forgiveness and reconciliation, and the good of the beloved is sought.  A society that kills its sinful members will end up killing itself—none will be left, for we are all sinners.  But when there is love and forgiveness among the brothers, even what seems to be impossible emerges.  A new man, a new community looms in the horizon.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Events as God's Word on the Need for Personal and Communal Repentance


An Exegetical Reflection on the Gospel of the Third Sunday of Lent, Year C, Luke 13:1-9, March 3, 2013
 

TODAY’S GOSPEL ON the Lord’s reminders on the need for all to repent (Luke 13:1-9), is part of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51-19:27) in which he prepared his disciples for their role after his passion and death, while at the same time continuing to teach his listeners about the in-break of the Kingdom of God to which all must respond.  In the present pericope, which is part of Luke’s travel narrative, Jesus’ teaching was occasioned by the calling of his attention to two incidents.  The first refers to Pontius Pilate’s slaughter of Galileans whose blood he mingled with the sacrifice.  This incident is not attested in other gospels nor in extra-biblical literature, although that Pilate could have done this is not out of his character.  It is probable that these Galileans were pilgrims in Jerusalem.  They were likely in the forecourt of the priests in the Temple, slaughtering their Passover lambs, when the soldiers of Pilate came to liquidate them.  In contrast with this deliberate murder of Galileans was another incident, purely accidental, involving eighteen persons who were killed when the water reservoir of Siloam fell.  Luke is probably referring to a tower that formed part of the old wall of ancient Jerusalem.

            How did the people of Jesus’ time interpret these tragedies?  It would seem that our current popular interpretation of disasters has not been an improvement on theirs!  When tragedies like these happen, we usually see them as God’s punishment.  When we discover that we have a cancer, or our husband goes with another woman, or our only child dies, or when an earthquake shakes cities and a volcano erupts, almost always we ask: what have we done to merit these happenings?  In the Gospel, the Jews saw the collapse of the tower and Pilate’s heinous act no differently.  As in popular wisdom, they associated these with the victims’ sins, or with their having broken the Lord’s command.  Such observation is found in both Old and New Testaments.  In his talk with Job who experienced tragedies and so much suffering, Eliphaz said:  “Reflect now, what innocent person perishes?  Since when are the upright destroyed?  As I see it, those who plow for mischief and sow trouble, reap the same.  By the breath of God they perish, and by the blast of his wrath the are consumed” (Job 4:7-9).  When the disciples saw a man who had been blind from birth, they asked Jesus:  “Rabbi, was it his sin or that of his parents that caused him to be born blind?” (John 9:2).

            For Jesus, however, there is no theological ground for such line of thinking.  He ruled out the idea that a particular sinfulness brings about a particular tragedy.  He did not even countenance the logic that while we are all sinners, some are so sinful that they deserve a particular punishment.  Indeed, one can even assume that in Jerusalem at this time, there were people who were more sinful than the 18 who died probably because they were simply at the wrong time and at the wrong place, and that in Galilee there were likely some who were worst off than those Pilate liquidated.  On the contrary, he rejected the theology of those who inquired, and he refused to explain how in fact God acts.  It makes no sense to question them or justify them by the logic that if people are struck by tragedies, it is because of some particular sins they have committed.  After all, Jesus said that God himself “is good to the ungrateful and the wicked” (Luke 6:35).  He affirmed, however, that sin does spell disaster.  That is why he went on a journey to Jerusalem to challenge the people to listen to his words and be converted to the Kingdom.  They had to be taught of the way to peace.  It was for this reason that he told them the parable of the fig tree (Luke 13:6-9).  The tree has been planted in the vineyard, but because it bore no fruit, the owner decided to cut it down. But then the gardener pleaded with him to leave it for one year (Luke 13:7). 

            What Luke is trying to put across may be stated in a more contemporary application.  Our country may be the most populated Christian nation in the Far East, but it is also a nation of Christians who are sinners.   The effect of our sinfulness can be seen in the widening gap between the rich and the poor, in the way we do our politics, in the devaluation of the peso, and in the consumerist society that many are enthralled to, to name a few.  But as the responsorial psalm says, the Lord is kind and merciful (Ps 103:8).  Instead of striking us down, he has given us a period of grace.  We saw it working in EDSA I, when we dislodged a dictator by the power of prayer.  But it seems people refused to listen to the Lord, despite his word that we should listen to his son (Luke 9:35, Gospel of 2nd Sunday of Lent C).  We simply changed the cosmetics of the nation without changing the core values of the people.   But God is rich in mercy.  Once again, we were given another manifestation of his activity with EDSA II.  A man of faith sees this event as God’s revelation of his presence among us.  EDSA II is another call for us to change the way we handle our politics, culture and economy.  We have to alter our orientation, we have to say no to—among others--traditional politics, the culture of gambling, unbridled capitalism, corruption, injustice and violation of human rights. 

A man of faith--who has been observing how we behave politically, economically and culturally despite the occasions of grace, like EDSA I and II--could weep, probably in the same way that Jesus wept at the sight of Jerusalem, because he could foresee what was to happen to the city after it rejected his message, what with the factions and intrigues among the inhabitants (Luke 19:41-44).  So, once again, we have to listen to God’s only Son, who calls us to repentance and to recognize his path to peace (Luke 19:41).  Otherwise, we will all perish as a nation like the passengers of the Titanic who went down with the ship.  The punch, in other words, is: while there is time, let us listen to Jesus and change our lives both as individuals and as a nation.