Monday in the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time at Mississippi Abbey
Scripture Readings: 1 Tim 2:1-8; Lk 7:1-10
Our moral decisions are determined in part by what one has become as a person. The centurion has loved the nation of Israel and built a synagogue for them. Yet he sends messengers to say, “I am not worthy to have you come under my roof…I do not consider myself worthy to come to you…” The centurion knows more about himself than we are told. He knows St. Bernard’s first step of truth about himself; the second step about the Jews and his valued slave; and the third step about Jesus.
The centurion is having a conversion experience. He is accustomed to being over others and is now subordinating himself to an itinerant preacher. He faces the possibility of losing his slave; this occasion’s awareness of his vulnerability. His vulnerability occasion’s a need for faith. This prompts a change in his perception of what constitutes the good. He adopts the criteria-for-good of the Jews. Consequently, there is a conversion of his valuing and his intentions.
And Jesus identifies with him! He identifies with the centurion’s faith. It amazes Him! They share an affection: a way the Father affects each of them… and both of them together. Affection moves a person from a state of indifference to one of caring and acting. That shared affection, more than the centurion’s past, is what matters most to Jesus Christ.
And they both shared a sense of dependence. They shared a sense of human limitation. And growing out of this limitation and dependence was an experience of trust, an aspect of faith. Jesus trusted the Father and the centurion trusted the One Who trusted the Father…the One the Father sent.
This trust made him different from other Roman soldiers. There are two key differences: First, the other soldier’s norm of behavior is their own advantage; the centurion’s is an encounter with the self-giving person of Jesus. The second difference is in to whom they render the obedience of faith. To renounce self-seeking and instead make the good of others the dominant, orienting intention of one’s life requires faith. And it is this faith that Jesus so admires. He recommends it.
Monday in the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time at Mississippi Abbey
Scripture Readings: 1 Cor 11:17-26, 33; Lk 7:1-10
Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is very important to any community’s celebration of the Eucharist. The main issue is that factions born of envy and rivalry are incompatible with celebration of the Eucharist as given by Christ, the innocent victim. This applies to both celebrant and members of the congregation.
In addressing factions, Paul knows that it is essential to cite a central authority and object of devotion that they all can acknowledge; so he begins, “I received from the Lord Jesus…” The first thing they have forgotten and must call to mind is what matters most. In remembering this, the first thing they must reject is scapegoating.
Scapegoating is a way of achieving communal peace and unity by saying with the Pharisee, “O Lord I’m glad that I’m not like her.” Instead, as we are reminded at every Mass just before communion, we recall the words of Jesus, “My peace I leave you; my peace I give to you.” Scapegoats, like Jesus, are “innocent victims”. Scapegoating has been called “the sin of the world” because one trusts blaming more than facing one’s shortcomings before God. It is an ineffective and short-lived way to find peace.
The Letter of Paul is organized around the notion that the Corinthian participants must be united in love at the Eucharist in order for the celebration to be authentic. This love must include empathy for the victim. We need to let the Eucharistic experience be embodied in our way of looking at things (i.e., our perception) and in how we live.
To this end our monastic patrimony has much to offer, especially in the matter of consistency between our exterior and interior selves. We all want harmony between our insides and what we show on the outside. We think others have this consistency or harmony because we spend much time comparing their defense mechanisms they’ve built up over a lifetime to our raw meat.
What we conclude is not true. Our monastic history teaches us to watch and guard the interior, our thoughts and imaginings, so that our Eucharistic participation in unity is authentic. Thoughts become a feeling; a feeling becomes a conviction and the conviction becomes a desire that seeks expression in our behavior. We rationalize and justify the behavior, sometimes by scapegoating, even at the Eucharist. We thus compromise our most deeply held convictions and our authenticity.
Eucharistic authenticity is so important to St. Benedict that he takes a severe stance toward murmuring, doing what we’re supposed to do but with resentment. There is a fundamental discord between what is done and what takes place in the heart, and the heart is what matters most to God. It matters most to Benedict who wrote a rule for attaining purity of heart. In the Prologue of that Rule he says that, among the traits of those aiming at such purity is “the one who does no wrong to her neighbor or allows dishonor to a neighbor.” Such a heart, free of Corinthian envy and rivalry, is what St. Paul calls us to. The heart is what the Eucharist is for.
Monday in the Twenty-Fourth Week of Ordinary Time at Mississippi Abbey
Scripture Readings: 1 Tim 2:1-8; Lk 7:1-10
This evening we have a contrast to yesterday’s gospel about the ungrateful and wicked servant. The centurion is able to accept what he knows he does not deserve and agrees to receive what he cannot possibly pay for: a favor from Jesus.
Our moral decisions are determined in part by what one has become as a person. The centurion has loved the nation of Israel and built synagogues for them. Yet he sends messengers to say, “I am not worthy to have you come under my roof…I do not consider myself worthy to come to you…” The centurion knows more about himself than we are told. He knows the first step of truth about himself; the second step about his valued slave; and the third step about Jesus.
The centurion is having a conversion experience. He is accustomed to being over others and is now subordinating himself to an itinerant preacher. He faces his vulnerability in the possibility of losing his slave. There is a change in his perception of what constitutes the good. He adopts the criteria-for-good of the Jews. Consequently, there is a conversion of his intentions.
And Jesus identifies with him! He identifies with the centurion’s faith. It amazes Him! They share an affection: a way the Father affects each of them, and both of them together. An affection moves a person from a state of indifference to one of caring and acting.That shared affection—more than the centurion’s past—is what matters most to Jesus Christ.
And they both shared a sense of dependence. They shared a sense of human limitation. And growing out of this limitation and dependence was an experience of trust, an aspect of faith. Jesus trusted the Father and the centurion trusted the One Who trusted the Father.
When we compare the wicked servant to the centurion we see very significant differences that far outweigh the miraculous cure of the slave. The wicked slave sees the good as being his own satisfaction (i.e., the accumulation of wealth); The centurion sees the good in the welfare of others. Similarly, for the wicked servant the moral self is moved by personal sentiments, which in his case are selfish; the centurion’s moral self is moved by concern for another and what he has heard about Jesus Christ.
The key difference, though, is this: The wicked servant’s norm of behavior is his own advantage; the centurion’s is an encounter with the self-giving person of Jesus. To renounce self-seeking and instead make the good of others the dominant, orienting intention of one’s life requires faith. And it is this faith that Jesus so admires.
We saw yesterday the danger of securing one’s own lovability or righteousness apart from God. This is hard for us. St. Therese of Lisieux has good advice for us:
“If you are willing to bear in peace the trial of not being pleased with yourself, you will be offering the Lord Jesus a home in your heart. It is true you will suffer for you will feel like a stranger in your own house. But do not fear, for the poorer you are the more Christ will love you.”