The Peak

Mountain Peak

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


“You will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption.”

Peter points out that David’s prophecy in today’s psalm did not apply to himself, for (rather poignantly), King David’s tomb was present and known to the Jews of Peter’s time.

Rather, Peter tells us that David penned these lines from the psalm with an eye to the promise that his descendant would reign forever; in other words, he penned them with an eye to Jesus’ Resurrection.

Very dramatically, Jesus’ Resurrection is portrayed as the very peak, the epicenter of history itself: The fulfillment of all David, Israel’s greatest king, was looking for. And so it is.

When the Gospel writers use the word “Behold” (“Ecce” in Latin, “ἰδοὺ” in Greek), it seems to signal something powerful and momentous. “Behold the man,” says Pilate, as he displays Jesus before the crowds, impressed at His poise and serenity after being scourged nearly to death.

And today’s gospel uses the word when it presents the risen Jesus for the first time. “And behold, Jesus met them on their way.”

Just like that, Jesus is back, full again of poise and serenity, returned from the dead.

Jesus has risen, never to die again. He is risen, among us now. How we would like to encounter Him, as the women suddenly did when He met them on the way!

While this earthly life is our time of suffering, let us remember that He will come meet us, as He did the women, if we ask Him to.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to encounter you as He did the women. More than likely, He will not take your sufferings away, and He will not solve all your earthly problems. But, as He did for the women, He will give you the inestimable consolation of His presence.

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Songs of the Spirit

Benedictus

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


There are three monologues in the early Gospel of Luke, each of incredibly dense content with respect to the vast story arc of Salvation History, and each of breathtaking beauty, which became singularly prominent from early centuries in the Liturgy of the Hours. As such, each is known traditionally with two titles: First, in Latin, the first word(s) of the monologue, and second, as the “song” or “canticle” of the person pronouncing it.

Hence, we have the queen of them all–the Magnificat, or the Canticle of Mary pronounced upon her visit to her cousin Elizabeth, and the Nunc Dimittis, or the Song of Simeon, pronounced at the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple.

And then, we have today’s monologue: the Benedictus, or the Song of Zechariah, pronounced in an outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the circumcision of his son, John the Baptist.

As so often is the case, this incredible utterance ties back beautifully to the first reading chosen for the day.

With apparently no effort, Zechariah narrates as a seamless story the wonders God has worked for His People, and shows with great clarity how they all build to the climax of the coming of the Messiah, of whom Zechariah’s son is to be the prophet.

A particularly marked element in Zechariah’s story is the Messiah as the promised great Heir to the House of David. And in the first reading, we see the full development and context of that original promise.

That context is a correction of God to David, who thinks his job is to build something for God. God kindly but clearly corrects him through the prophet Nathan: God, in His omnipotent Providence, is actually the great Protagonist, the One In Charge, the One Who Builds. He doesn’t need a human to take care of Him. His great promise to David is contained within this correction.

The application of the lesson of this context, and the whole coherent Song of Zechariah, is of such palpable relevance to our own attitudes, that it almost produces goosebumps.

Does it make sense that God curated history and prepared for the Christmas event so carefully, and then after Jesus’ Ascension, left everything to chaos and randomness? Or is there a historical, providential story arc written by the very hand of God in the history of the Church following Pentecost as well?

And what about the story arc of our own lives? Random string of unrelated events? Or key brick in the building of salvation that God continues to construct?

As we look at eras in history, the closer we look to our own time, the more difficult it is to identify the story arc God is weaving as Lord of History–as He who makes all human history into Salvation History.

Which is why we should take a page out of Zechariah’s book, and draw very near to God in our relationship with Him, asking Him to fill us to overflowing with the Holy Spirit. Only then can we fulfill, like Zechariah, our particular prophetic role within God’s plan.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: On the eve of Christmas, ask God the Father, in giving you His Son this Christmas, to fill your heart with the Holy Spirit like never before, so that you can perceive throughout the story arc of your own life and your own time the unmistakable marks of God’s loving, governing, sovereign Providence.

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Housebuilder

Home Construction

This is a reflection on the Mass readings of the day.


Christian life is hard. There is a critical element of dogged consistency to it. It is not just a question of following the “do nots” of the Ten Commandments, though this in itself presents its challenges. It is also a question of consistency in our sacramental life and prayer time, especially meditation on Scripture. Also, there is an element of being present for others and helping them to live the faith, per the demands of our vocation–not to mention Christian charity, both toward the poor and toward each of our neighbors.

Because “our part” in the Christian life is not easy, we often make the mistake that David did in today’s first reading. He decided he was going to build a house for the Lord.

God appears both pleased, in a way, and yet, corrective. His words seem to say, “What do you mean you are going to build me a house? Do you think I need you to provide my needs for me? Look at what I’ve done for you…but that’s only the beginning. I’m going to build a house for you that will last forever.” He doesn’t punish David for his misunderstanding of things. To the contrary, He reconfirms the great destiny He has in store for David’s line.

How this resonates for us in our Christian life! Because “our part” in our relationship with God seems daunting at times, we make the mistake that our mission on this earth is to do something monumental for God. We grow restless when we don’t find something glamorous to achieve on His behalf.

As challenging as the Christian life is, especially when we consider how much needs to be changed in the world if it is to be brought back to God, we can react like David: “Hey, I think I’ll go build God a thing.”

The most glorious, wonderful paradox in Christian life: Far, far more productive is Mary’s attitude toward God, present conveniently for us in today’s Gospel passage in sharp contrast to David’s: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done unto me according to your word.” Mary realizes from moment zero that the wonders to be worked in her life are to be worked by God Himself. Her life is not her big project for God. It is His big project for her.

Thus, Mary’s gift of herself, of her life, to God is not the gift of a grand project for achievement, but rather the gift of her “yes,” her enthusiastic embracing of His plan for her, whatever it will bring.

Even as Mary’s response contrasts with David’s in the first reading encounter with God, it also fulfills it. In her perfect embodiment of God’s plan, with perfect grace, Mary brings forth Him who is the Personification of the permanence of the reign of David’s house.

Ideas for conversation with the Lord: Ask Jesus to shape and purify your understanding of your relationship with Him. Ask Him to help you to be faithful to all the demands of Christian life, but to remember that all of this is just your simple, humble “yes” that sets the stage for Him to accomplish things in your life that are beyond your imagination.

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