In preparation this morning for a Bible study
I teach to a group of seniors each Thursday, I pondered the Mass
readings for yesterday (March 13). It is, I think, serendipitous, that I
am currently leading my study group through the third chapter of
Philippians – so the Mass readings caught my attention. They (and our
priest’s comments) gave me additional ideas for this Thursday’s
discussion.
The Old Testament reading was from Isaiah 43.
Unfortunately, the few verses of the particular reading (verses 16-21)
do not fully illuminate the wonderful promise God makes to His people in
the entire chapter. I hope you will take the time to read it on your
own, if you haven’t already done so.
For the sake of space, I am
pasting below what I consider the salient points of the reading in
Isaiah. (Again, even what I have pasted below does not fully illustrate
God’s wonderful mercy. Please take the time to read the entire chapter):
Isaiah
43:1-19: “But now, thus says the LORD, your Creator, O Jacob, and He
who formed you, O Israel, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have
called you by name; you are Mine! “When you pass through the waters, I
will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, Nor will the
flame burn you. “For I am the LORD your God . . . Thus says the LORD,
“Do not call to mind the former things, Or ponder things of the past.
“Behold, I will do something new . . . “I, even I, am the one who wipes
out your transgressions for My own sake, And I will not remember your
sins.”
This section from Isaiah spoke to me again, even now, as I
reread it in conjunction with the two other Mass readings. First, St.
Paul’s comment in Philippians 3: "Brethren, I do not regard myself as
having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies
behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the
goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."
And
then the Lord’s response to the woman caught in adultery. Here is part
of that text in John 8: “Again He stooped down and wrote on the ground.
When they heard it, they began to go out one by one, beginning with the
older ones, and He was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the
center of the court. Straightening up, Jesus said to her, “Woman, where
are they? Did no one condemn you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus
said, “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.”
I
see in these readings a
critically important point – a point fundamental to our ability to grow
closer to God: When we have brought our sins to God in humble
repentance, we must afterward do two things:
1. Forget them and forever leave them in our past, under the blood of Jesus.
2.
Determine to not do again whatever it was we did. (If we stumble again
over the same sin, we repeat the same process of confession – see 1 John
1:8-10).
The devil will always be quick to park on our shoulder
and whisper accusations in our ear. But such should not surprise us.
That is his job-description as the Father of Lies (John 8:44) who always
accuses God’s children (Revelation 12:10).
But our job
description is also clear: God wants us to forget what is past and now
covered by the blood of the Savior. And we are to press forward toward
the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Brethren, let’s now be about doing what God has called us to do to win the lost.
Monday, March 14, 2016
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Thirsty? Come and Drink
The Last Seven
Statements of Jesus
His Fifth Word
“I am
thirsty.” (John 19:28)
It
started in the Garden. The savior prayed with such anguish, His sweat mingled
with His blood and dripped to the ground. It was in the Garden that soldiers
beat Him with their fists, pulled His beard, spit in His face. Then they dragged
Him into the city and shuffled Him from Pilate to Herod, and back again to
Pilate. They whipped Him without mercy, hardly giving Him time to catch His
breath. Then they pressed a crown of thorns into His forehead. Blood oozed into
His eyes and tracked down His cheeks. Mocking soldiers then laid the cross
across His shoulders and forced Him to carry it to the where He would die.
“I am thirsty.”
As
Jesus groaned through parched lips, someone dipped a sponge in vinegar mixed
with gall and brought it to His mouth (Matthew 27:34). The vinegar they offered
Jesus was weak wine commonly used in Palestine to quench thirst. Gall was a
bitter liquid with narcotic and anesthetic properties. Soldiers often gave it
to prisoners about to be crucified as a way to dull their senses so they
wouldn’t fight against the nails being hammered into their limbs. Sometimes friends
gave it to those hanging on the cross to lessen their agony.
When
Jesus tasted the gall He turned away. He would not drink the drug. He would finish
the Father’s plan to its fullest course and its fullest cost. A short while
later, someone gave Him the plain vinegar.
“I am thirsty.”
Although
nailed to the cross, Jesus was the Lord of Heaven. The King of the Universe. He
never needed to thirst. Or hunger. Or suffer pain. Yet He demonstrated by His
life and by His death a ‘hunger and thirst for righteousness.’ Even on the
cross, He would accomplish His Father’s will. That is why His death – and His
thirst – serves as an illustration for us.
In
his Confessions, St. Augustine wrote, "God, you have made us for yourself,
and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you.”
Restlessness.
Thirst.
We
who belong to Christ through our faith and baptism “have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer [we] who live, but
Christ lives in [us]” (Galatians 2:20). When the Holy Spirit enters our lives
He always creates within us a restlessness for God. A hunger for God. A thirst
for God. If we are not restless for God, if we do not increasingly hunger and
thirst for Him, we ought to wonder why.
“I am thirsty.”
You
may remember another time Jesus was thirsty. I bring it to our attention now
because it speaks to this whole point of thirsting for righteousness. You’ll
find the familiar passage in John 4: There came a woman of Samaria to draw water.
Jesus said to her, “Give
Me a drink.” . . . . Therefore the Samaritan woman said to Him, “How
is it that You, being a Jew, ask me for a drink since I am a Samaritan woman?”
Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” . . . .“Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; . . . but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”
Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” . . . .“Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; . . . but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”
He said to her, “Go, call your husband and come here.” The woman answered and said, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You have correctly said, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one whom you now have is not your husband; this you have said truly.” (John 4:7ff)
Living water.
Jesus told her to go bring her husband, and she answered, “I have no husband.” Of course Jesus knew of her sins. We cannot lie to the Lord. That is why He told her, “You have had five bed partners, and the one you now have is not your husband.”
At first, many things seem to quench our spiritual thirst, but in the end they serve
simply to anesthetize us to that thirst. One of the lessons in this
passage about the Samaritan woman is that her harlotry anesthetized her against knowing of God’s
thirst-quenching fountain. And in the same way, our sins can dull us to that same
fountain.
Here
is what the Holy Spirit tells us through the prophet Hosea (4:12): Harlotry, wine and new wine take away the understanding . . . For a
spirit of harlotry has led them
astray, And they have played the harlot, departing
from their God.
Hosea continues in chapter 5: 4 Their deeds will not allow them to return to their God. For a spirit of harlotry is within them, and they do not know the Lord.
St.
John spoke of counterfeit thirst-quenchers as “the lust of the flesh, the lust of
the eyes, and the boastful pride of life” (1 John 2:16). But everyone reading
this knows in the heart of hearts that counterfeits can never fully satisfy. The
only place to quench our God-induced thirst, our God-induced restlessness, is at
His fountain, devoting ourselves to the daily and lifelong drinking from His fountain by confession, reception of the
Sacraments, daily prayer, Scripture study, and humble obedience to the Holy
Spirit.
“I am thirsty.”
Have
we become anesthetized to God by our sins? Have we drunk from the fountain of
worldly pleasures, ideas, and philosophies? There is only one method of escape,
to be free to know the thirst-quenching life of God: Come to Jesus, humbly and penitent
– and then drink from His fountain.
Oh, Lord! Please,
please, give us a holy thirst that ever draws us to the fountain of living
water!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Why Have You Forsaken Me?
The last seven words (statements, actually) of Jesus as He
hung on Golgotha's cross are among the most encouraging of all Scripture. Here
is the fourth of the seven:
The Other Side
of the Door
My
God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46)
As
our home Bible study wound to a close, a young mother ran out to her car for a
package she’d forgotten. She left her two-year-old daughter with half a dozen
adults in the living room. But when Berea saw Mommy leave, her face froze with
panic. She ran as quickly as her little legs could carry her and stretched in
vain for the doorknob. Her screams brimmed with terror, as if she believed
Mommy would never to return from the other side of the door.
One of the other women lifted Berea into her arms and tried to calm her. But it was no use. The toddler wanted no one but Mommy. And mommy was gone.
A few moments later, Berea’s mother returned. When she opened the door she lifted Berea into her arms, rubbed her back and spoke tenderly into her ear. The child quickly quieted down. Mommy had returned.
One of the other women lifted Berea into her arms and tried to calm her. But it was no use. The toddler wanted no one but Mommy. And mommy was gone.
A few moments later, Berea’s mother returned. When she opened the door she lifted Berea into her arms, rubbed her back and spoke tenderly into her ear. The child quickly quieted down. Mommy had returned.
Some
theorize Jesus cried out, My God, My God,
why have your forsaken Me?, only to draw attention to Psalm 22 in which the
psalmist prophesied of Christ’s crucifixion nearly a thousand years before it
happened (see Psalm 22:11-18). When Jesus quoted the first line of the psalm,
they say, it was to demonstrate His fulfillment of that prophecy.
I
think there was a far more significant reason for His outcry.
St.
Luke tells us that while Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, imploring
the Father to take the cup He was about to drink from His hands, Jesus’ sweat ‘became
like great drops of blood falling down on the ground” (Luke 22:44) . Bloody
sweat is a rare, but well-documented physical phenomena called hematidrosis. It is known to occur in
some people suffering extreme stress. Jesus dreaded the crucifixion not only because
of the physical pain He’d suffer, but He also knew what it would mean when He
took upon Himself the sins of the world. The prophet Isaiah is only one of many
Old Testament prophets to speak about the results of sin: But your iniquities have made a separation between
you and your God, and your sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear (Isaiah 59:2).
Separation. From God.
The Holy Spirit says this about Jesus: “Though He was in the form of God . . . .
[He] emptied Himself, taking
the form of a slave, being born in human likeness” (Phil 2:6-7). And so, being fully God and
fully Man, Jesus experienced all the frailty of humanity – hunger, thirst,
pain, cold, heat . . . . And now He was about to experience in our place what He in His deity could
never experience.
Separation
from the Father.
St.
Paul wrote to the church at Corinth: [The
Father] made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the
righteousness of God in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21). And in his letter to the church at Galatia, he
added: Christ redeemed
us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us (Galatians 3:13).
As
the most holy Lord Jesus hung between heaven and earth, He did not simply take
our collective sins on Himself, but actually became Sin – became Sin –
so you and I who are ‘in Christ,” you and I who trust Him as our redeemer, our
reconciler, our savior, could become the very righteousness of God.
Oh!
Think of it!
Jesus, who knew the incomprehensible intimacy of the Triune
Godhead, for the first time in
eternity was separated from His Father. For that one moment – oh, but for the
eternal God that moment must have seemed forever – for that one moment the
Father turned away from Him who had become Sin.
No wonder He cried out, My
God, My God. Why have You forsaken Me!, for in some mysterious and
inexplicable way known only to the Holy Trinity, Jesus was suddenly on the
other side of the door. Suddenly separated from His Father. Suddenly alone.
That
is the fathomless horror our sin caused Him. And that is also the unquestionable evidence of the matchless love the
Son has for the sinner –you and me – so we
would not have to live forever separated from God, on the other side of the eternal
door.
Thank you. Oh! Thank you, Jesus.
Father of
mercy, like the prodigal son I return to You and say: "I have sinned
against you and am no longer worthy to be called your son." Christ Jesus,
Savior of the world, I pray with the repentant thief to whom You promised
Paradise: "Lord, remember me in Your kingdom." Holy Spirit, fountain
of love, I call on You with trust: "Purify my heart, and help me to walk
as a child of light. —Author unknown
Monday, March 7, 2016
Never Wasted
Never
Wasted
By Richard
Maffeo
I know
your deeds and your toil and your
perseverance
. . . (Revelation 2:2)
Sacrifice.
No one knows how its claws can tear the soul like
the one who for decades gave up a dream, a life, a goal, a purpose . . . .
Given up.
Thirty. Forty. Years.
Given up to walk instead the walk He charted, only
to find at the end of the course what seems ashes and emptiness and loneliness.
The hope of something better, the prayers for something precious, the yearning
for something beautiful disappear like wisps of smoke in the wind, and the voice
on the shoulder taunts:
“What could have been if you’d walked the road you
gave up?”
Oh! But like the child who gave his few fish to Jesus
and the Lord fed thousands; Like the widow who gave her last pennies to God, and
whose story has encouraged millions across the millennia, nothing sacrificed to
Jesus is ever useless. No offering ever returns empty. No life or years, no
fish or coin – nothing is ever a waste when given to Christ.
He promised it – and He still promises it:
Be
steadfast. Immovable. Abounding always in the work of the Lord, because your
labor, your sacrifice, your purpose,
and
perseverance is not now, nor has been, nor will ever be in vain when done for, and
offered to, the Lord.*
*see 1 Corinthians 15:58
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
It's About the Heart
St. Mark gives us two
vignettes in his gospel, each of which makes the same important point for every
Christian: God is pleased with what we do
for Him when it is all we can do.
The first is of the widow
who placed her penny into the Temple treasury. Here is what Jesus thought of
that offering: “Truly I
say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the
treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but
she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.” (Mark
12:41-44)
A few
chapters later, Mark relates another story, this one about a woman with a jar
of very expensive ointment. It is likely she’d been saving it for her dowry –
if she’d ever marry. She chose instead, according to the custom of the day, to
pour it over Jesus’ head as an expression of love.
When
some objected to her ‘waste’, Jesus responded: “Let her alone; why do you bother her . . . . She has done what she could
(Mark 14:6-8).
Do you
see the common theme in these two stories? It’s not at all about how much we
place in the offering basket. It’s about doing what we can do, even if what we
can do is not a lot in the eyes of others.
It’s
about the heart – and who owns it.
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