How the Passion of Christ led me to Catholicism

I realized a long time ago that there is nothing courageous or noble about refusing to change one’s mind, no art or grace in being pointlessly stubborn. To alter an entire belief system because of fear of consequences however, is something different.

As a not-so-religious Jew, one of my initial challenges as I began to explore Christianity was the soon realized fact that if I continued down this road, that I would have to turn my back on what I had been led to believe for my entire life up to that point and admit that what I had believed the first 48 years of my life was wrong. Fortunately, through the grace of the Holy Spirit and the wonderful support I received from my new Christian friends, I learned that it was not necessary at all to do any of that.

In fact, it occurred to me after much study and even more prayer, that my journey from Judaism into Christianity was one complete journey and that when I stepped out of the baptismal waters, that a new chapter in that journey had begun, not a new journey altogether. And that is why I call this blog, A Blessed Journey.

The Passion of Christ taught me that the epicenter, the quintessence of the Christian faith, is not any one symbolic act, but a literal instruction, “Take this, all of you and eat it: this is my body which will be given up for you. And take this, all of you, and drink from it; this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all men so that sins may be forgiven.”

What had been a barrier has now become a bridge, a connection between a broken, smashed and needy creature like me and his perfect and glorious creator. The great paradox of God is that in so simple a matter as a wafer is the most wonderful gift in the entire world given to us, but given at a tremendous and almost unthinkable price.

The almost unimaginable wonder of this gift for me however, is that Jesus gave it to me even before I acknowledged Him as my personal Lord and Savior. Lost in the jungles of Vietnam, having just escaped from a three-month captivity (at the time I had lost track of how long I had been a POW), I thrashed about in the bush, much motion, little progress, ending back believe it or not, from the exact point I had started from. It was only then, when I collapsed on the ground, relaxed and allowed what I now recognize as Jesus and the Holy Spirit working in unison to save my life that I began to feel safe, that I began to calm down and that I began to work out a strategy of what to do next.

Yes, I relaxed. I stood up, and looked around me. Then I remembered reading a book at the age of thirteen entitled Freedom Train. It was a present from my mother and it was a biography of that great conductor on the Underground Railroad, Harriet Tubman.

I remembered reading that Harriet, unable to read a map, learned however that moss always grows on the north side of the tree. That little piece of scientific knowledge helped her to lead more than 300 slaves out of the south and into the north. I knew instinctively that I wanted to go south. So I began to search the bottom of the trees surrounding me and lo and behold, the science that led Harriet Tubman and her fellow travelers on the Underground Railroad, saved my butt as well.

For two days, I traveled south through the jungle and at some point, I had become so thirsty and exhausted that I simply laid down on the jungle floor, propped up against a tree, and realized that I could go no further. I closed my eyes and the last image I saw was of a smiling Jimmy Johnson, who had died in the act of saving my life several months prior. I heard him actually say to me, “It is going to be alright.”

I lay there for I know not how long. But at some moment in time, I awoke to someone shaking me gently. I opened my eyes and looked into the face of Calvin Bennett, someone I had grown up with in my old neighborhood. Someone I had played baseball with and who I had run track with in High School. He was a Marine now, out on reconnaissance, and his team, as he put it to me later, “nearly tripped over me.” I could not believe that not only had I survived, but that one of my old neighborhood friends was rescuing me.

I am stubborn. Even though it was obvious, even to me, that a miracle almost beyond belief had taken place, I was still not ready to give God the credit. In fact, more than twenty years would pass before I recognized the role that God had played in my survival. Reliving this period of my life, even as I share it with you right now, is like watching an entirely different life, one that is finally letting me in on the secret that it was not my own skills that saved me, or blind luck, it was in pointed fact, the grace and love of Jesus Christ who saved me even before I was willing to acknowledge Him.

Tonight, as I write these words, another reality embraces me. Like the arms of a loving mother around an eager if sometimes foolish child. It was that Mary is not merely a background figure in a magnificent drama, but a divine conduit for salvation. In other words, she is sublime and perfect and with us forever. The mother of us all…

As I sit in church tonight, observing and yes even celebrating the Passion of Christ, another reality embraces me. That it has been through her eyes, Mary’s eyes that I see the life of Jesus, with all the human as well as the Godly suffering that it entails. I use the present tense, because although Christ died for us so long ago, He still lives. His sacrifice exists in the present and can be witnessed every day by us all. Yes, even by me.

The Passion story tells us that Mary weeps for her Son. Her tears and His blood mingle to soak the world in hope and love. Within their grandeur all despair is smothered and all sin cleansed. Yes, I see it now. I see it so clearly. “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you. But only say the word and I shall be healed.”

So where has this Blessed Journey brought me: I believe that Jesus is present on the alter during Mass and especially during the Eucharist. I believe in the seven sacraments.

Any spiritual journey is part intellectual, part emotional, part visceral, part super natural. The path winds and turns and around each corner is revelation and wisdom. I have read a great deal of theology since my own conversion and baptism and have enormous respect for those much smarter than I whose writings have helped to bolster and strengthen my own faith. I love and know my Bible, including the passages that will surely be quoted to me by those who regret my swim across the Tiber.

At the risk of antagonizing those who are disappointed in me, please do not tell me about historical failings of the Church or its current challenges because I have heard them all. I have met lapsed Catholics and lousy Catholics as well as good Catholics and glorious Catholics. Not relevant. It is the truth of a belief, not the failure or success of alleged followers to live up to that truth, that is of importance.

I am a miserable sinner. But at least I know it. Please pray for me.

Jesus the Rabbi celebrates the First Eucharist

This week a friend gave me an unexpected surprise. She had seen a plate in a store inscribed with words in Hebrew and she thought of me. So she purchased the plate and gave it to me right after Mass. The gift is a wonderful gesture and I will treasure it always. It did however remind me of my Jewish roots and how that plays into my conversion first to Christianity and then to Catholicism.

It was my intent to write this week about the Last Supper, also the first Eucharist, but the experience of receiving this gift caused me to rethink what I wanted to share with you so that is the primary reason for this post being as late as it is. That is what the kindness of friends can do to you. Thank God for that!

Despite the fact that Jesus clearly stated that “salvation is from the Jews” (John 4:22) and although He shared with His disciples “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat so practice and observe whatever they tell you” (Matt 23: 2-3), far too often the Jewish roots of Christianity in general and the Eucharist specifically, have been ignored.

While such neglect of the Old Testament roots of Christian faith is not characteristic of the Fathers and Founders of the Church—Saint Jerome studied with Jewish rabbis before translating the Vulgate and Saint Thomas Aquinas regularly drew from rabbis such as Maimonides in works like the Summa Theologiae—too many Christians today fail to see the unity of the Old and New Testaments. Moreover, too many modern Jews mistakenly suppose Christianity represents a denial and rejections of their tradition.

What I want to deal with today however is specifically the Last Supper which early Christians clearly saw as a fulfillment of the Passover tradition. The Synoptic Gospels all cast the meal itself as a Passover supper while John sees Jesus as the paschal lamb sacrificed on the Cross. Paul also links Christ’s Death and Resurrection with the Passover in First Corinthians, “Clear out the old yeast so that you may become a fresh batch of dough, inasmuch as you are unleavened. For our paschal lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed. Therefore let us celebrate the feast, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth“(1 Cor 5:7-8).

To fully embrace the Eucharist, then, it is important for us to understand the full meaning of the Passover celebration. The roots of this festival are very ancient, even preceding the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. The later Passover is really a combination of two celebrations: a nomadic tribal sacrifice of a lamb whose blood is sprinkled on the tent pegs to ward off evil spirits and an agrarian ritual marking spring and the harvest of new grain with the use of unleavened bread. As nomads settled among local farmers, these two celebrations were combined.

The Hebrew Scriptures however, provides a new meaning to these combined rituals by linking them to the events of the Exodus. As part of that event, God sent a series of plagues to afflict the Egyptians. When the final plague was announced, the death of the firstborn by the destroying angel, the Jews slaughtered lambs and marked their homes with the blood, thus protecting them from this evil.

For the Jews then, the Passover is a celebration of the Exodus. It is a feast of liberation, rejoicing in God’s wondrous acts on their behalf that set them free from slavery. The Exodus was also the event that established Israel as a people, as God’s chosen people. Consequently, for the Jewish people, remembering the Exodus is more than just an exercise in memory. The Book of Exodus commands the Jewish father to explain the meaning of the feast this way, “On this day you shall explain to your son, This is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt” (Ex 13:8).

All Jews are to celebrate the feast as though they had been alive at the time of the Exodus. They see the feast as somehow bringing then into contact with that achievement. This is the concept we try to express with the term “memorial.” Through the ritual observance of Passover, the modern day Jew not only remembers the past, but also relives it.

Jesus drew on this concept of memorial when He told His disciples during the Last Supper to “do this in memory of me” (Luke 22:19). The Church has long understood that the celebration of the Eucharist brings us into contact with the saving actions of Christ. That is the way we are able to share in His sacrifice, His exodus through death to resurrection.

It is important to note that His sacrifice is not repeated, He died once for all and death has no more power over Him. His sacrifice is also eternal and enacting the ritual of the Eucharist enables us to enter into that eternal act in a spirit of memorial.

For me, one of the more beautiful moments in the paschal mystery is realizing that the core of Christ’s sacrifice was His commitment to the Father’s Will, clearly expressed in his humanistic agony in the garden. “Not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). This commitment led Him to the Cross and Resurrection at one point in history, but Christ’s Will is eternally united with the Father’s Will.

Christ is forever victim, forever rabbi, forever priest. When we celebrate the Eucharist, we are invited to enter into that eternal act, aligning our wills with the Father’s Will as Jesus did. Then we become one with Christ and share in His sacrificial act. This also serves to help us to realize the breadth of the commitment we make when we “do this in memory of Him.” In memory of Jesus really means that we are to be transformed by adopting His attitude of love and His commitment to the Father’s Will. We share His sacrifice not only by carrying out the ritual of the Mass but also by living our lives in accord with God’s Will.

So in the final analysis, what do we have: Jews celebrate God’s saving action in the Exodus every year at Passover. Christians celebrate Jesus’ passing through death to the new life every year in the three great days we call Triduum—Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter. This is the closest Christian parallel to the Jewish Passover. Ultimately, we do not celebrate the Passover ritual, but the meaning of the Passover meal and the meaning of the Eucharistic meal are related. Our God is a God of freedom and life. Both Christians and Jews celebrate God’s saving love and thus commit themselves to imitating that love. That is the deepest meaning of both Passover and Eucharist.

Palm Sunday

When I was a little boy growing up in the District of Columbia, I remember at this time of year that the vast majority of my friends would return from Church on Palm Sunday with these wonderful palms in their hands, waving them and generally being very happy to have them. I of course, felt a little left out and when I asked my parents why we didn’t have any palms, their response was that we did not believe in that sort of thing. Well, I had no idea of what “that sort of thing” meant, but as I got older, the one thing that never changed was that I always felt a little left out on Palm Sunday.

What exactly is the true meaning of Palm Sunday? Most of us are familiar with the story. Jesus arrived in Jerusalem and asked His disciples to bring Him a donkey to ride upon into the gates of Jerusalem. As Jesus entered the city, the crowds began shouting, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Sound familiar?) And waved palm branches and spread out their coats on the streets. As it is however with most stories, this one is also rich with symbolism and points to a much deeper meaning.

To begin with, the waving of palms and laying down of coats by the people was no accident or coincidence. Palms were signs of victory and of military success. The Romans gave palms to the victors in the Roman games and emperors gave them to their subjects following the defeat of one military foe or another. Not willing to be left out, the Jewish people copied this custom and in that wonderful Old Testament story, 1 Maccabees, the people waved palm branches to celebrate the newly established independence of Jerusalem and Judea (More on this at Hanukah).

On that first Palm Sunday, the crowds who had heard much about this man everyone called Jesus, gathered to welcome Him because they had come to believe that He was indeed their “King” and as such, was their Messiah who had come to establish Israel’s independence from Roman rule. In fact, the whole scene that day mirrored a King or General’s triumphant entry into a city. It all seemed so perfect and hopeful.

The reality for most of us is that even today, we still want that kind of Jesus, that type of Messiah. We want a Jesus who will bless and confirm our politics, bless our wars and battles and will be “on our side” against anyone who dares to stand against us. We seek a Messiah who will sustain us as the world’s only true super power and ultimately bless our armies, weapons and military encounters.

The only problem is: Jesus is just not that kind of Messiah.

The irony of that may have been lost on some of those people cheering Jesus that day, the same way it is lost on some of us today. Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem was not that of a General or a warrior. No, such men as those ride big, strong horses. Jesus rode in on a donkey. This was purposefully done by Jesus to emphasize the fact that He came on a mission of peace and salvation. The donkey revealed Jesus to be a humble rabbi on a peace mission, not a military warrior.

This donkey, this symbol of peace and humility is critical to our understanding of who Jesus was during the time He was poised to make the ultimate sacrifice. The donkey is an animal that is often used to mock and ridicule. The word “ass” is by no means a complimentary one—we use it to ridicule people. As one of the most widely known converts to Christianity and ultimately to Catholicism, G.K. Chesterton wrote of the donkey, “He is the devil’s walking parody of four footed things.”

But, in the way that Jesus has of constantly turning everything upside down, Jesus rides in on a donkey for His triumphal entry and not only establishes this irony, but lifts up the lowly, in this case, the lowly donkey in the process. This donkey becomes the sacred throne for, not only a King, but the very Son of God. Note that it was a donkey that had carried Jesus and Mary at the beginning of His life just before He was born as they rode into Bethlehem. And now a donkey carries Him into Jerusalem just before His death.

So what are we to think of this kind of Messiah? He comes in peace and humility and rides in on a donkey.

It is part of the human tradition that we do not normally conquer evil with peace, humility and non-violence. Down through the march of time, we have resorted instead to violence and power struggles. This is why, just a week after Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem, when the crowds came to the realization that Jesus was not going to end Roman occupation from the back of a war horse and at the head of an army, they stopped shouting “Hosanna” (liberate us) and instead shouted “Crucify Him!”

What is difficult for His disciples to understand, that from His Incarnation, Jesus’ victory is not a military one and that it has a much deeper meaning. Jesus does not want to liberate us from our temporal enemies. He wants to liberate us from all our enemies, from the source and root of our problems: sin, evil and death itself. This is the true triumph behind the triumphant entry. This is the victory Jesus won that day. Yes, He was ultimately crucified, He died, He was buried and yet He was resurrected and returned to Heaven; and we now are the ones who must live this victory out…by liberating all victims of oppression and violence by proclaiming and enacting justice and righteousness to the least of these in God’s world. It is we who must live out God’s peaceable Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.”

Today, I no longer feel left out as I did when I was a child because I understand that the palm branches I once coveted, are signs of martyrdom and of victory over death, proclaiming liberation through peace and non-violent resistance. So, to you my brothers and sisters in Christ, I encourage you to wave your palms high and hold onto them, remembering their call to you. “Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” He is Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace and He rides a donkey.

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

   –G.K. Chesterton

 

Being a Disciple

Jesus said to His Disciples: “I tell you for certain, that a grain of wheat that falls on the ground will never be more than one grain unless it dies, but if it dies, it will produce lots of wheat. If you love your life, you will lose it. If you give it up in this world, you will be given eternal life. If you serve me, you must go with me. My servants will be with me wherever I am. If you serve me, My Father will honor you (John 12: 24-26)”

Ten years into this new millennium, world events and Church teachings direct our attention to life itself as the very center of our concern. The consistent ethic of life provides both a solid foundation and a powerful challenge to live as faithful disciples of Jesus Christ and as engaged citizens. It calls into question the message and the meaning of Jesus. It challenges us to reject the culture of death and instead challenges us to create a culture of life every day, at home, at work and in our communities.

How do we demonstrate our discipleship to Jesus? The answers are simple and complicated at the same time. The truth lies in how much our faith is in sync with our behavior—the jokes we tell, the attitudes we hand on to our children, the causes we support, the business practices we use, the entertainment we attend, the way we care for the sick and elderly. In all these ordinary activities we express consistency in respecting life or we get trapped in contradictions.

If we are consistent in ensuring that our behavior is driven by our faith, then we must speak and act concerning abortion and euthanasia but also concerning welfare and immigration, sexism and racism, trade agreements and sweat shops, the buying and selling of women for prostitution, genocide and many other national and international issues, Based on our ancient Scriptures and attentive to contemporary demands and expectations, the consistent ethic of life provides an ethical framework for confronting the moral dilemmas of a this new millennium, it helps us to promote the full flourishing of all life.

What then is the consistent ethic of life? It is a comprehensive ethical system that links together many different issues by focusing attention on the basic value of life. As I shared with you a few weeks ago, Cardinal Bernardin, in his attempts to defend life, first joined the topics of abortion and nuclear war. He quickly expanded his understanding of a consistent ethic of life to include many issues from all of life. Already in the first of a series of talks, this one at Fordham University, Cardinal Bernardin stated: “The spectrum of life cuts across the issues of genetics, abortion, capital punishment, modern warfare and the care of the terminally ill.”

Cardinal Bernardin also acknowledged that issues are distinct and different. Capital punishment, for example, is not the same as abortion. Nevertheless, the issues are linked. The valuing and defense of life are at the center of both issues. Cardinal Bernardin told an audience in Portland, Oregon: “When human life is considered ‘cheap’ or easily expendable in one area, eventually nothing is held as sacred and all lives are in jeopardy.”

Along with his consistent linking of distinct life issues, Cardinal Bernardin acknowledged that no individual or group can pursue all issues. Still, while concentrating on one issue, he insisted in another address, the individual or group must not be seen “as insensitive to or even opposed to other moral claims on the overall spectrum of life.” The consistent ethic of life rules out contradictory moral positions about the unique value of human life—and it would be contradictory, for example, to be against abortion but for capital punishment.

This linkage of all life issues is, of course, the very heart of the consistent ethic of life. This linking challenges us to pull together things that we might have kept apart in the past. Often our convictions seem to cluster around ‘conservative’ or ‘liberal’ viewpoints—as in the above examples. But the consistent ethic of life cuts across such divisions, calling us to respect the life in the womb, the life of a criminal, the life on welfare, the life of the dying.

We are coming to the end of the season of catechumens and candidates who for a year have been studying the doctrines, the body of faith, the rituals and the Sacraments of the Catholic Church. These people, adults for the most part, now stand at the foot of the Cross, waiting to be welcomed into the Body of Christ as full members, able to participate in the Eucharist and also have an opportunity to serve in one of the many ministries of our Church as they begin to live a life where their faith is manifested not only in what they say, but more importantly, in what they do.

I don’t say this to imply that it is by acts alone that we gain the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, but Jesus has made it clear to us, many times over, how important it is for our lives to be a manifestation of our faith.

And who is this Jesus? He is the Jesus who was sensitive to the vulnerable at all stages and from every walk of life. In being so, He was often at odds with society’s standards, associating with religious and social outcasts. This is the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount who proclaims as blessed not the leaders of society but the mourning and the meek, the poor and the pure, the persecuted and the peacemaker (Mt5:1-12).

This is the Jesus who praises not power but reconciliation in the story about the forgiving father of the prodigal son. This is the Jesus of faithful ministry, of suffering and death, of new life. This is the Jesus who says, “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly (John 10:10).

Who Jesus is and what Jesus means by abundant life, then, are surely different from what the consumerism and individualism of our culture today tells us about life. Think about this and pray about this as we prepare for Passover week.

May the peace of the Lord be with you…

Lent is not about giving up stuff–it is about re-aligning priorities

With this week, we begin the second part of Lent. We ask more and more deeply to be with and like Jesus. We desire to celebrate the approaching mystery of our salvation with greater freedom and greater joy.

Each day’s Gospel will now be from the Gospel according to John. As we move through the readings, a roadmap for our Lenten journey, we cannot avoid the sense of being in a courtroom because the Gospels have a collection of witnesses and testimony as the battle rages between the forces of darkness and the Light. The opposition to Jesus takes on a new level of viciousness and the talk against Him turns visceral. It is now inevitable that He will be killed. But we know that the ultimate Judgment in the trial is against sin and death. This realization helps us to grow in gratitude and grace as we experience more deeply that the ultimate sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is really all for us.

All of us have, at one time or another named certain things as our priorities. From time to time, when we have become aware of our not doing something that is really important, we think to ourselves. “I have to make that a priority.” Lent is an optimal time to do a top-to-bottom review of what we value compared to what we actually do. Whenever we do this, we can usually discover that something needs re-aligning.

We discover that there are values we hold, commitments we have made, growth we desire, that somehow never made it on the list of our real priorities—that is, the things that take the first place in our lives. For example, I might say, “My faith is my first priority!” An honest, self-assessment however may show otherwise. I might say, “I hear the words of Jesus that we will be judged on only one thing: how we care for “the least” of His sisters and brothers. In reality, I may only notice occasionally that feeding, clothing, educating, caring for or defending the marginal never makes it to my list of priorities.

A thorough review of what is most important to us and what seems to be important to us by virtue of what we actually do should be a prime Lenten activity.  If what we are hoping to do during Lent is to grow in personal freedom, based upon our growing sense of God’s love for us and our clearer vision of who we are and our deepening desire to be more closely aligned with the heart of Jesus, then we will want to do this personal assessment very carefully. How else might we ever hope to get to a true sense of service to others? What chance will care of the marginal ever have of making it onto our list of priorities? More importantly, how will we ever be able to break old self-destructive habits and secure the implementation of new ones that help us to be someone whose actions accurately reflect their values?

This process of self-assessment leading to a realignment of priorities is not going to be easy. We can come up with myriad strategies to manage the process, but it would be wonderful if we could start with prayer. We can ask God, in our own words and with desire, for the grace to do this review with real honesty and with a sincere desire to grow in freedom and integrity.

Then, we may wish to spend a few days reflecting upon who we are and what our purpose is. We could use the WWJD or the What Would Jesus Do approach combining that with a true understanding of who Jesus is and what He means to us. It will also help the process tremendously if we begin with an honest examination of what we really value and how that fits the truth of whom we are and who we are called to be.

The next step could be for us to actually name or list what is important to us. Write it down, so that it will become real to us and is also something that we can edit and refine. Also, avoid the deadly passive voice the computer software used to brand my words with, using green squiggly lines to shout out the hesitancy in the way I expressed myself. We should open up, or as one professor of mine used to say (sometimes to distraction) “unpack” our values as we give life to them on paper. What does it truly mean when we say that we value our faith or our relationship with Jesus or our commitment to serving others?

Then with each value, we must understand in our heart how that value will be reflected in our behavior. The real work in this re-aligning of our priorities happens when we spell that out in actions that will ultimately give life to our value system. Following that, the true test of a value’s importance to us is how it survives in competition with other values, in the contest for time in our everyday lives. We will come to understand rather quickly what we truly value by what we really do.

Because this re-alignment will consist of many fits and starts, it will probably involve some back sliding at times. In times of crisis or under pressure, we all regress back to behaviors we were most comfortable with prior to our attempt to live lives in sync with our values. Our new priorities can vanish. That is why it is critical to keep reviewing how we are doing. In energy conservation, when a contractor places energy conservation measures in place, someone, usually on a quarterly basis, conducts an assessment of how those measures are performing. It is referred to as Monitoring and Verification (M&V). We can employ that same strategy in our process of re-aligning our priorities.

Finally, and most importantly, with each examination, we need to give thanks to God, for the grace that has inspired and sustained this life-giving realignment of our priorities.

The Cleaning of the Temple

As we enter the Third Sunday of Lent, our journey provides us with a shockingly different perspective of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The heretofore gentle Rabbi has turned violent. He erupts into anger as He sees merchants selling sheep, oxen and even doves in the temple and He also sees money-changers conducting business in His Father’s House.

The account of the Cleansing of the Temple is common to all four Gospels and uniquely it is the only place in the Holy Scriptures where Jesus is shown resorting to physical violence. The account almost begs the question, how in the world does such fury coincide with the silent, humble Jesus we have come to know in preceding Scripture as well as the Jesus who will become even more humble and forgiving during the coming Holy Week?

As my colleague did in CCD class this morning, let’s take a journey through history. In Jewish thought, the temple was not just where sacrifice took place and it certainly was not just a building that served as a gathering place for any of the many Jewish festivals not only of that time, but that still take place today. It was however, first and foremost the dwelling place of God—it was a physical manifestation of God’s presence in the midst of the people. The Holy of Holies in the center of the temple was considered God’s actual throne room. This room was so holy that only the High Priest could enter, and customarily entered with a rope tied around his waist so that if it proved he had caused God to be dissatisfied with him his dead body could be retrieved without anyone else having to enter. Despite these beliefs however, the temple authorities had drifted away from the temple’s primary purpose and had allowed it to decline into a marketplace of sorts. This deterioration of the significance of the temple was also the primary reason for the Jewish religious leaders’ inability to recognize Jesus Himself as the new Temple, an indestructible dwelling place of the Divine Presence, of prayer and communion with God.

As our Deacon pointed out this morning during his homily, our churches today were not built to serve as simply a meeting place “or an auditorium,” or a place “much like a theatre where we go to experience a drama.” Rather, our church is meant to serve as a place where we can be in communion with God and with each other as we worship our God together.

In last week’s post to A Blessed Journey, I wrote about how our Lenten experience should be one of our willingness to rely on God’s Plan and Power to become a fruitful servant of Christ by leaving behind old patterns of life in order to be conformed to the image of Christ.  As we struggle with our human imperfection, church is a place where we can become part of God’s family—a family in which we recognize the wonderful gift of Jesus coming to us and our going back to Him and His family.

So on this particular day, during the Lenten journey of our Lord Jesus Christ, He came upon a temple that had been transformed into a sacrilege of its original intent and in response “He made a whip of cords and drove them all out of the temple area” (John 2:15).

The Gospel goes on to tell us that Jesus was angry—but  just last week we read how Jesus told us not to get angry. Again, questions arise: Did Jesus commit a sin here? Did He lose His temper or is there a place for anger in our faith?

Fortunately, St. Paul provides some answers. “Be angry,” he wrote, “but do not sin” (Ephesians 4:26). So there is a type of anger that is not sinful and in fact, there are times when anger is the only appropriate response. We have a right to be angry for example, at sins such as abortion, racism, sexism, sexual abuse or human trafficking. At the same time however, no matter how offensive these sins are, we are not justified in sinning ourselves. In the final analysis, it is our motivation that defines the appropriateness of our anger. As St. Thomas Aquinas taught, “He who is not angry when there is just cause for anger is immoral. “ Why? Because “anger looks to the good of justice.”

We can conclude then, that anger towards injustice is not sinful, it can even be appropriate. When our angered response to injustice is controlled by reason and compassion then those expressions of anger are acceptable, provided they are driven by a desire to restore justice and order.

In Jesus’ case, His anger was certainly in response to the unjust and sacrilegious manner in which the people were treating the temple. It was a controlled anger also, for immediately after He drove the sinners out, He commenced to preach and teach with calmness, conviction and clarity.

As I shared with you last week, it is important for us, especially during this Lenten season, to focus on Christ, the Perfect Servant. By maintaining this focus, we will come to realize that Christ-centered servant hood comes from the inside out, accomplished by cooperating with God as He develops the character of Jesus within us as followers of Christ. As that inward development strengthens and progresses, we will come to respond more and more in a Christ-like manner to life’s situations and especially, in personal relationships.

Ultimately, it is acceptable then to become angry so long as we are vigilant and can keep our emotions in good control. So, if you find yourself about to get angry (as I find myself way too often), try and place that anger in sync with good reason, love, forgiveness and humility. Once you have said your piece, make sure then to bring resolution to the situation by restoring love and trust if at all possible. And remember, “With God, all things are possible.”

The Lenten Season: A Time To Work Towards Becoming More Like Jesus Christ

I have a good friend, Julius Ross, who writes a daily blog in which he shares with his readers a verse from the Bible, a thought on that verse and finally a prayer to strengthen the thought. He does this faithfully, every single day.

This past Wednesday (2/29) the verse Julius chose was from the second chapter of Luke, “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation.” Those words were spoken by Simeon when he first laid eyes upon the Christ child. Julius went on to say that “This is our goal as well. While we cannot physically see Jesus who is our salvation and hold Him in our arms as Simeon did, we can see Him through Scripture, worship, ministry, evangelism and the work of the Holy Spirit. Let’s make it our aim to honor God as the only true God and to follow Jesus as our Lord.” Julius’ prayer asked God to help him “know Jesus better, to be formed more perfectly into His image and to live with His character.”

The goal I think Julius is attempting to get us to think seriously about is for each of us to live our respective lives in such a way that we strive to honor God’s will “on earth as it is in heaven.” Even though we utter those words every time we say the Lord’s Prayer that kind of spiritual growth is not easy because it is not so much about doing as it is about becoming—becoming more like Christ. It is a life-long adventure that requires patience, commitment and intentional focus. Again, it’s not what we do along the way that is most important. What really matters is who we are becoming in the process. Ultimately, our lives as believers in Christ is about building an intimate relationship with Jesus as the Holy Spirit changes us from the inside out and loving others the way Jesus loves us.

As I said, this is not easy. In fact, one of the greatest personal challenges we all face as Christians is how to become a Christ-like servant. It is the low road to a believer’s high calling. It is a challenge because it goes against our natural desire for popularity, power and prominence. Not surprisingly, Jesus was the perfect example of a servant when He lived on the earth. A believer, by staying fixed on Jesus (Hebrews 12:1-2), can follow in His steps.

It is also critical to point out here that in this life, we will not fully reach the perfection that is Christ—and yet that remains our goal. The challenge does not dissuade us, does not make us surrender. Rather, we run with patience the race set before us, for we know that if we continue faithfully, a crown of righteousness is assured for us. Even now, Paul says, we “are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory” (1 Cor. 3:18). Even the Corinthian church, with all its challenges, was in the process of being shaped by the Holy Spirit into the glory of Jesus Christ.

In the Old Testament, Jesus is described as a “servant” (Isaiah 42:1). The New Testament describes Jesus similarly (Acts 3:26; Philippians 2:5-8). As the Perfect Servant, Jesus taught His disciples that the pathway for greatness in God’s kingdom was found by traveling the low road of a servant (Matthew 23:11). Jesus demonstrated the consistency of a true servant’s heart by washing His disciple’s feet just a few hours before He was crucified (John 13:3-5).

So as believers in Christ, we are to become more and more like the Perfect Servant (2 Corinthians 3:18; Ephesians 4:15). In doing so, we demonstrate our love to others and not merely live to please ourselves. The example of Jesus and His teachings clearly and perfectly present the characteristics of a Christ-like servant. The difficulty in becoming a servant however can be captured by three words—dying to self—which presents a clear choice for every believer (Luke 0:23-24; Romans 12:2).

It is important however, for us to understand that dying to ourselves cannot be accomplished by our own power or insight. If dying to self depended solely on our own personal abilities, no one could become more like Christ since our natural wisdom and strength are woefully inadequate to accomplish such a transformation. Thank God however, that through His Mercy and abundant Grace, our Triune God has provided divinely powerful and sufficient resources (Jesus, the Holy Spirit and His Word) to enable believers such as ourselves to mature spiritually.

The issue then is our willingness to rely on God’s Plan and Power to become a fruitful servant of Christ by leaving behind old patterns of life in order to be conformed to the image of Christ. Interestingly enough, dying to self, in spite of its importance for us to become a Christ-like servant, should not be the focus of each day. Instead, we are to focus on Christ, the Perfect Servant. By maintaining this focus, we will come to realize that Christ-centered servant hood comes from the inside out, accomplished by cooperating with God as He develops the character of Jesus within us as followers of Christ.

As that inward development strengthens and progresses, we will come to respond more and more in a Christ-like manner to life’s situations and, especially, in personal relationships.

This past week, the federally funded agency I work for received word that its subsidy would be cut by two million dollars for FY-2012 which for us, means April 1^st. Consequently, the agency is laying off 16 staff of which I am one. As I sat there receiving the news that in four weeks I would be laid off, I was surprised by my sense of calm. In truth, I had been thinking seriously that this would be my last year, that as someone who is in his sixties, retirement was becoming more and more a pleasant alternative to the 40+ hours per week I currently am engaged in, not counting the many hours reading regulations and policy in order to remain compliant with enough rules and procedures to drive almost anyone crazy. The fact remained however, I was being shown the door—not walking through it because of a decision I had made. As I returned to my own office and sat down, I closed my eyes and thanked God for keeping me calm and for blessing me with enough good health to now travel down almost any path I would choose.

As I reflect on that moment in my life this past week I think I finally understand that life’s greatest challenge, being a Christ-like servant, can become life’s greatest reward for a wholehearted disciple of Jesus.

Praise Be to God!