This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.
When considering the deeper reality of things, It helps to back over and over again the reality explained to us in Genesis of the impact of human sin on our collective lot.
“Cursed is the ground because of you! In toil you shall eat its yield all the days of your life.” (Gn. 3:17)
If God loves us so much, why is it so hard to eke out a living? Why does much of what we do fail? It’s right there in black and white. When we start wringing our hands because it’s so unfair, it is well to remember that we have made our own bed through our rejection of God–individually, but also collectively, cosmically.
Which is the reason that today’s first reading rings as true now as it did when it was written thousands of years ago. Mind you, we have something that the Scripture author didn’t have in his time: Technology and know-how that tangibly advances from generation to generation. It is a sign of God’s mercy that He allows us actually to make progress–clambering, as it were, a few feet up the side of the deep pit that we have dug for ourselves through sin.
But in the end, there really is “nothing new under the sun.” The sun, source of so much of what we need to sustain life, keeps rising and setting; the winds keep blowing; man, like a poor player, “struts and frets his hour upon the stage. And then is heard no more” (Shakespeare–Macbeth, Act V, Scene V). All our progress has not removed our stress, our fretting, our worry, our fear, or the insecurity of our sin-weakened existence.
“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?” (Shakespeare–Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II) Nothing new under the sun–until the year zero, until God takes on flesh to send a ladder down the pit; until, in our individual lives, we discover Jesus Christ.
The sun goes on rising, but now the Sun of Justice rises behind it, with healing in its wings (cf. Ml. 3:20). It is as though, upon our two-dimensional, cyclical, never-really-changing world, a third dimension has broken in.
Even Herod, in our Gospel passage today, perceives the novelty, and his characteristic casual curiosity is piqued. He has beheaded John, perpetuating the cycle of barbarity in our darkened world. So who is this new guy? What do you mean it’s Elijah, or John returned–did I not snuff that out?
Herod is ever in search of entertaining novelty (later he would ask Jesus to perform a trick for him–cf. Lk. 23). But he has no idea just how revolutionary the novelty of the crucified Jesus would prove to be.
The world has heard the name of Jesus for centuries; you and I have heard it and think we know what it means. But if we long for novelty, that is where we are to find it–rather than in the next Apple release. Because, despite what we think we know, of Jesus’ novelty we have scarcely scratched the surface.
Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Summarize the life, death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus in your heart. Run through the history of the Church in a rapid review. Tell Jesus how you interpret all this. Then, ask Him if there is something new from Him, something unexpected for your life; ask Him if you have exhausted all His novelty. Ask Him to inundate your soul with awe at the unexpected newness, depth, inexhaustibility of His presence in your life.
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