Someone asked me once if there were any Scriptures where a relationship between a mother and daughter was pivotal. The one that came immediately to mind was in the tragic story of John the Baptist and his execution (Mark 6:17-29). This was hardly something for emulation. Living in an age where so many teenage girls crave things like digital music, computers, shoes, cars, clothes, and jewelry — this figure of Herodius’ daughter is a peculiar one — at her mother’s urging, she wants the head of John the Baptist. I suppose times do change, if just the externals, but this seems a bit over the top to say the least.
I spoke about how the Lord gave his disciples a long list of sins to avoid. He challenged them not to be hypocrites but to be a genuine people in love with the Lord. I mentioned that such lists, if preached upon, can make us angry, the reason being that most of us do not like to be reminded of our sinfulness and weakness. We even try to keep it from ourselves. Herodias was like this, too. John the Baptist would not allow them to forget or to ignore the great sin with which she and Herod had become involved. She soon discovered that the only way to silence him was to have his head on a platter, to force her lover to kill him.
We need to be, not like Herodias, but like John the Baptist. He fully realized that we were all sinners, needing to admit this reality to ourselves and to repent. Indeed, the baptism he offered in the desert was one of repentance and conversion. We should face up to what we do and to who we are, both to the beautiful and to the ugly. If we are not honest to ourselves, how can we dare face ourselves, our neighbor, and our God with any semblance of integrity?
Sometimes to be a prophetic witness like John the Baptist will require hardship for us as well. It might mean that we will also have to die. If not physically, we may have to endure the little dyings that come when we challenge others to a more moral life and one which places God in a central position.
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Filed under: Adultery, Bible, Discipleship, Divorce, Family, Forgiveness, God, Marriage, Morality, Prophets, Reflection, Repentance, Sexuality, Sin | Leave a comment »
At this point in my narrative, I would like to tell a story– a story about two boys. They started out like most young children. They loved playing ball. They liked cartoons, especially those filled with lots of super-heroes and villains. Ice-cream was their favorite food, for both main course and dessert. They both had that most peculiar attraction all boys seem to have toward dirt and bruises. And, both wanted a dog. The first boy, Arnold, came from a house which the second boy, Zachary, could only experience in his wildest dreams. Arnold was given everything. He got away with all kinds of poor behavior. His room looked like a bomb hit it. Arnold ate only what he wanted and when he wanted. He had toys piled up in the garage and outside– toys with which he easily tired. He wanted a dog and his parents bought him several purebreds, but he mistreated one of them and it had to be put to sleep. He was a brat. He would cry and yell if he did not get what he wanted, and he would get it. As he got older, he would stay out late, hit all the parties, and even got messed up with a pretty tough crowd. His parents thought, well he’s just a boy having fun. To say he was spoiled would have been an understatement. It is a little sad really. When he grew up into a man, things did not get much better. He stayed a self-centered child. Unfortunately, his parents could not live forever, and when they died, he found himself alone, unable to cope or to be happy in the world. He could not satisfy his desires, and they were unbridled– lawless. He was unhappy.
We do not want to die. Okay, I know that some would object to this statement, but opposing sentiments are usually the exception. These exceptions are generally aberrations due to some form of suffering. We have all heard of suicide victims due to mental illness and depression, emotional trauma, excessive physical pain and handicap, and delusion (as in certain cults). In all these cases there is a running away from something (pain or anxiety) or a fleeing toward something (a higher plain of existence or some other such alternative). The latter comes close to the Christian hope, although with one essential difference, true faith defends the dignity and sacredness of all life, here and now.
The Lord appears to Mary Magdalene, consoles her, and sends her off with the news, “I have seen the Lord!” (see John 20:11-18). The insistence upon the witness of women in the Scriptures reveals to us just how much both men and women were called to be Christ’s disciples. Mary Magdalene proclaims the Good News to Jesus’ other followers, the men with whom he had entrusted his apostolic authority and power. Notice his words to her. She is so thrilled to see him that he must immediately tell her not to cling to him. He exclaims that he is “ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God!” This is one of the clearest statements by Christ that his particular Easter event will also be ours. The words also echo the time when he taught his friends to call God, “Our Father,” in the Lord’s Prayer. We, who belong to Christ, belong also to the one who sent and raised him up. We who are now identified with Christ can appropriately call God our adopted Father. He keeps us in existence and in baptism refashions us into the likeness of his Son.
Although there is no Mass, the rituals for Good Friday are very moving and evocative. However, it is the faith that we bring to the ceremonies which gives it importance for us. An outsider to our faith, might look upon such ritual with awe towards its simplicity and yet confusion as to its meaning. This is because we celebrate a theme which much of our culture seeks to ignore or postpone. We commemorate death. Assuredly, it may not be death as many people understand it, but nevertheless it remains something mysterious and even feared. Our society, with its newfound confidence in science, ironically hides the tragic death of the unborn behind the guise of linguistics while many in the medical field go to elaborate techniques to keep certain other people alive, no matter what the cost. One of the tasks of the Christian is to visit the sick; and yet, how often have we hesitated from that duty? And we know why — because to meet an elderly or handicapped or sick person is to face the specter of our own mortality, death. We dye our hair, or wear something over our heads that lost recently at the horse races; we cake our faces in makeup to cover the blemishes and wrinkles of age; we diet to wear clothes that we could not fit into even as teenagers; we take an assortment of drugs to maintain our vitality; we do all this and more to escape the prospect of age and the ghost of death which lingers in the periphery of our lives.
Many years ago I was counseling a man who had stopped going to church. He said that he did not have to go to services to pray and that the churches were filled with hypocrites anyway. I admitted that there was some truth to his accusation; but I then asked him to honestly tell me whether or not he was really praying alone either. He paused. Hesitantly, he said, no. I then quite pointedly inquired about who he thought should go to church? He wondered what I meant. I responded that Christ came for sinners and that we have tried ever since to fill our churches with them, this priest included. The poor man began to see his own hypocrisy. The only difference between him and churchgoers was that we admitted we were sinners and therefore sought God’s forgiveness. Jesus spoke directly to this when he said, “The healthy do not need a doctor; sick people do. I have not come to invite the self-righteous to a change of heart, but sinners” (Luke 5:31-32). There is no shame in admitting that we are not perfect, only in trying to hide our frailties behind the lies of pride and deceit. I wish I could tell you that this revelation changed the life of this man. But, I have no inkling. He did not come back into the worship space where I presided. The blinders immediately came back down and he rationalized away everything I said. I pray for him, just as we all should. And yet, there is some sadness in knowing that when our family in faith comes together, he and so many others are not present. No one, anywhere, can ever take their place here and so we are the poorer. We desperately need the witness and solidarity of one another. With this in mind, I would sincerely encourage the constant support of one another, not with the badgering of a people who think they are better than others but with the example of a faith lived out both in our particular churches and in the world outside. The Pharisees and the scribes to whom Jesus spoke did not realize that they most of all needed Christ’s forgiveness and healing. Let it be a lesson about which we shall always be mindful.
The title chosen for this subheading might make one imagine a romantic setting where some daring spy has an affair with a deadly enemy agent. Such is how our minds and imaginations work these days. The arachnologist might fantasize in some poor anthropomorphic way about the love of two black widow spiders. The male was under her spell. Did he know that her embrace guaranteed new life and the end of his own? Snap! She bites off his head — oblivion, the end of a relationship — now he is merely fodder for a patricidal cannibalistic brood. Sweet and deceptive is the kiss of death. Perhaps the maiden being drained of her blood by a vampire in a late-night B-movie would think so? I digress enough. While these might make interesting if not sick asides; what I want to mention briefly is a far more realistic kiss, a kiss which has touched the lives of each and every one of us.
“Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you” (Isaiah 49:15).
We are called to pursue something of a personal discernment in regards to our sinful nature. Look at 1 Corinthians 2:10-16. The selection begins, “The Spirit scrutinizes all matters, even the deep things of God.” It is a wonderful and insightful depiction of the interior life. We as Christians do not simply follow laws in blind obedience. We are called not to go through the motions of faith; quite contrarily, we are to be filled within by God’s Spirit.
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