PHOTO: ANN RICKSON

Then the Jews said to him, “You are not yet fifty years old,
and have you seen Abraham?”
Jesus said to them, “Very truly , I tell you,
before Abraham was, I am.
Jn 8, 58

Many scholars look to the Old Testament prophets for a background for John’s use of “I am” in passages like the one we read today. Deutero- Isaiah uses the same Hebrew form “ego eimi that John uses in this verse, and the form is used to express YHWH’s revelation of the Divine Self to the people.

When Jesus tells those who are questioning him about his claim to have seem Abraham, Jesus uses the same words as Dt-Isa to identify himself as the one who reveals the One who sent him. As Barrett says in “Essays,” Jesus is not instructing the Jews to “…Look at me because I am identical with the Father,” but “Look at me for I am the one by looking at whom you will see the Father, since I make him known” (As quoted in the New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Johannine Theology 83:4).

Jesus continues to reveal the face of God to us, pointing not to himself, but to the one who sent him and to the work of brining God’s kingdom.

We can live our lives in a way that points not to ourselves, but to God.I think of people in my experience whose goodness and love drew me closer not only to them, but also to God. Saint John Newman’s prayer expresses the desire to reveal Jesus to others, as Jesus revealed the One who sent him:

Dear Jesus, help me to spread your fragrance everywhere I go.
Flood my soul with your spirit and life.
Penetrate my being so that all my life
may only be a radiance of you.

Shine through me, and so be in me
that every person I come in contact with
may feel your presence in my soul.
Let them look and see no longer me,
but only Jesus.

Stay with me, and then I shall begin to shine as you shine,
so to be a light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from you;
none of it will be mine.
It will be you shining on others through me.

Let me thus praise you in the way you love best,
by shining on those around me.

Rublev’s Trinity Inviting us to join with the Trinity, the Family who is our God

I know that you are descendants of Abraham;
yet you look for an opportunity to kill me
because there is no place in you for my word.
I declare what I have seen in the Father’s presence;
as for you, you should do what you hear from the Father.
Jn 8, 37-38

I have always had difficulty with atonement theories that answered the question, “Why did Jesus have to die?” with the explanation that God’s justice demanded the death of God’s son in our stead. God sent the Son to die. That does not harmonize with my faith and experience of God as one who loves completely, forgives all, and desires unity with us and creation.

For many Christians, the idea of Jesus’ death as his bearing the punishment deserved by us (penal substitution or substitutionary atonement) is the only understanding of the cross that they have heard. It is not the only one.

There are others: Christ Victor, a more ancient, relational, and incarnational understanding of Jesus’ death- Jesus did not satisfy a Divine need for a bloody sacrifice, but rather came to be one with us and to free us from the power of sin; moral influence theory – Jesus death on the cross was the ultimate revelation of God’s love for us, and by its example, moves human beings to imitate that love in their lives.

Jesus’ words in today’s reading speak to my heat: “There is no place in you for my word.” Jesus’ entire life was his work, not just his death. The crucifixion was not God’s plan from all eternity. How could a loving God have such a need for bloody sacrifice? Even in the Hebrew Scriptures, references are found that say God does not desire bloody sacrifices, but pure hearts, hearts of love, hearts for God alone.

Jesus looked at those who desired to kill him and gave us the reason for the crucifixion: There was no room in their hearts for God’s word…for Jesus…for his example and life of radical love and inclusion. Jesus threatened them, and they wanted him dead. They could not embrace the Kingdom that he preached and that he lived.

Jesus, I try to empty my heart of all that crowds out your Love. Help me to have room within my being for your word. Help me join in your work, willing to suffer when those who are afraid of your mercy and forgiveness for all attempt to snuff it out in those who desire to follow your example.

They said to him, “Who are you?”
Jesus said to them,
“Why do I speak to you at all?”
Jn 8, 25

As I read the passage from John, these words stopped me dead. I have heard them before. I have muttered them myself. I smiled, not at Jesus’ frustration with those who never seemed to “get it” no matter how many ways he tried to say it: I am the one sent by God; When you see me, you see the Father; You have greater than John here…”

I smiled at the common human experience of not being able to make oneself understood. We have all been there. Mutual lack of understanding is built into the parent/child relationship. You many not be a parent, but everyone was a child. We can identify with the exasperation of the Son of God. Divinity not withstanding, he just couldn’t make those people understand.

Sometimes I think most of Jesus’ disciples were particularly dense. Or, more kindly, I imagine their minds were not open to a reality as radical as the one Jesus was presenting to them. I should choose the kinder interpretation because many times, I am standing right with them.

How often have I failed to recognize God-With-Me or doubted the Presence of the Holy One working in the world? Overcome with uncertainty, with the current state of humanity, I don’t get it. I don’t remember that as Julian of Norwich so positively proclaimed: “All will be well,” and that it will be well because the One Who Created All Things will not abandon what has been made.

One the other hand, I also know there are those who, like the Psalmist in today’s reading, are destitute, suffering beyond anything I have known, and who feel alone:

My heart is stricken and withered like grass;
I am too wasted to eat my bread.
Because of my loud groaning,
my bones cling to my skin.
I am like an owl of the wilderness,
like a little owl of the waste places.
I lie awake;
I am like a lonely bird on the housetop.
Ps 102, 4-7

Jesus wondered “Why try?” when he failed again and again to communicate his message to his followers. People suffering today from famine, oppression, poverty, and physical or mental illness wonder the same thing: “Why try?”

They feel abandoned by God, by the rest of humanity. They are alone, like the bird on the rooftop. Where is help? Where is hope?

We must offer it. Perhaps last night’s passage of the Health Care bill will be a step in the right direction for millions of Americans who have no place to turn for medical treatment for themselves or loved ones. We can hope.

We must strive “to get it,” to open our minds to Jesus’ radical message: Whoever sees him, sees the Father, and whomever we serve is the Christ. We are called both to recognize God in those suffering around us and to be Christ, bringing God’s loving Presence to them.

“THE UNFAITHFUL WIFE” Jesus Mafa

The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such a woman. Now what do you say?” Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And when they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”
Jn 8, 3-5; 7-11

My feminine sensibilities require that I share my reaction to the early part of the story: The woman was caught in adultery and the Law instructed that she be stoned. Surely she did not commit adultery by herself, but the patriarchal structure of society is blatantly exposed by the omission of any male culpability. These types of stories make clear that fact that Scripture was written by men and from a male point of view.

Despite that history, the story is rich in meaning, revealing the human tendency to self-righteously pass judgment on others. Jesus would have none of it.In one of the many stories that show his counter-cultural relationship with women, he also shows us the face of our compassionate God. Jesus, the only one who could have cast a stone, being without sin, did not. Instead he enveloped the woman in loving forgiveness, sending her away with the admonition to sin no more.

He knew that we are all sinners; we just commit different kinds of sins. Some people are more inclined to sexual misconduct, and that seems to have worried the scribes and Pharisees more than sins of pride and callousness toward others. Human beings are creative in wrongdoing and often oblivious to their own. What about injustice, greed, theft, ignoring the poor, widows, and orphans? What about war that kills thousands of civilians or poisoning air, water, and soil, spoiling them for future generations? What about anger, abuse, and violence? The list of sins is long, and focusing on them in others can help us forget that they reside in us as well.

Putting someone down can make us feel important. Becoming pumped up with self and condemning those who don’t view the world as we do is easy for those whose love is imperfect: That is all of us. Jesus, on the other hand, who IS perfect Love, shows us the way of God: Love and forgiveness, respect and trust. He sends the woman on her way. He doesn’t follow her, make her sign a pledge, or require her to report back to him at a later date. He loves and trusts her to change her behavior for the better.

Forgiving God, give me a heart that does not need to judge others. Help me know that my worth comes not from being better than the people around me, but from being a your child, your beloved. Give me a heart that accepts, loves, and forgives myself as well as others.

PHOTO: “HEPATICA” by MARY VAN BALEN

Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
Is 43, 18-19

I was driving home and complaining to the One who claims to love me and watch over me, like sparrows, lilies, and hairs on my head. Most of my seventy-some job applications had disappeared without a whisper into the silence of cyberspace, and the few responses that had come back said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” Going to graduate school was a desirable alternative to finding a fulltime job, but that, too, was unsure.

“I am sick of not knowing what to expect,” I blurted out.

Tears threatened to overflow as I passed shabby billboards and last years corn fields while thinking about jobs I had done in the past and how they might help me find employment now. “Maybe I could go back into the classroom,” I thought. I am an enthusiastic, creative teacher, but conversations with friends working in schools were often filled with complaints about constant evaluations, excessive record keeping, curriculum determined by high stakes testing.

“Would it be too much to ask for SOME idea of what is ahead for me?”

God wasn’t talking.

I could waitress, having put myself through school working in a variety of restaurants. I smiled wryly remembering my daughters concern about that plan, thinking I am too old to keep up the hectic restaurant pace.

“In upscale restaurants, you have to remember everything, Mom. You can’t write it down,” one said. I guess she has doubts about my memory. Fair enough. Sometimes, I do, too. What else have I done? I rummaged through my past; I’ve done lots of things: taught elementary school, worked as an enrichment teacher and afterschool program director. I have been a camp counselor, a retreat center cook, and a GED teacher.

Panic squeezed my stomach and made me sick. Being jobless and going through a dissolution was wearing me down. I picked up the cell phone and called my sister.

“Hi, I need you to talk to me about having faith, trusting God, and all that. God isn’t talking to me, and I’m worried that I won’t be able to afford school; I’ve been holding onto that as a for-sure option if no work comes through.”

“Don’t put all your eggs in the grad school basket,” she said. “God may have something completely different in mind for you. You have to be willing to let that door close.”

She was probably right, but I don’t’ think she understood. I could handle letting one door close, even a favorite door, but I felt like every door was closing. I was getting claustrophobic. Something somewhere had to let light in.

Isaiah reminds me: “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

No, I don’t, not really. Holy Mystery, what keeps me from seeing what is unfolding before me? Give me patience and faith to believe that where I see nothing, you are busy bringing forth a new thing.
© 2010 Mary van Balen

PHOTO:MARY VAN BALEN
Then the temple police went back to the chief priests and Pharisees, who asked them, “Why did you not arrest him?” The police answered, “Never has anyone spoken like this!” Then the Pharisees replied, “Surely you have not been deceived too, have you? Has any one of the authorities or of the Pharisees believed in him? But this crowd, which does not know the law—they are accursed.”
Jn 7, 45-50

Something exists in the Roman Catholic Church called “sensus fidelium,” or “the sense of the faithful.” It is not something we hear much about, but it means that the affirmation of a particular doctrine or teaching being in keeping with the deep understanding of our faith is in keeping with the resides not only in the intellects and knowledge of theologians and church authorities, but also in the hearts of ordinary faithful Christians. Their acceptance of the teaching is evidenced by the incorporation of it into practice. When a doctrine or teaching is not accepted or when it is actively resisted the magisterium should review it: It may not be in keeping with our faith and experience of God, or the doctrine may have been poorly communicated, blurring the truth it attempts to express.

I am reminded of sensus fidelium when I hear the Pharisees question the temple police in this reading.Certainly, the ordinary devout Jews were beginning to wonder about Jesus and entertain the thought that he might be the Messiah after all. These people’s hearts were not skewed by desire to maintain power and status. They were not self-righteous and certain of the correctness of their understanding of the Torah as the Pharisees were. These were plain people, perhaps many uneducated, who were starting to know something not primarily with their heads, but with their hearts, moved by God.

People like that pose a threat to those in power, either political or religious. The same is true today. Trusting the sense of the faithful takes deep faith in the Presence of God within all. While the Church acknowledges the reality of sensus fidelium, it often has a difficult time hearing its voice.

For example, a new English translation of the Roman Missal soon will be used in the celebration of the Mass. Many voices throughout the Roman Catholic Church, lay, religious, and ordained, are expressing dismay and asking for the implementation to be delayed. The language is not that of modern English speakers. Why the change? Some say it is to insure a stricter adherence to the Latin Bible. Jesus didn’t speak Latin. Latin is already a translation of a translation. The sense of the faithful is saying the new Roman Missal will not enhance the faithful’s ability to participate in the Mass in a more meaningful way. It may well have the opposite effect.

This is one current example of those in power not trusting the Spirit working in ordinary faithful, who, as the Pharisees of Jesus’ day said, “do not know the law.” How many insights, truths, and revelations have been lost through the ages because they did not come from those educated in theology and the Scripture studies or those in positions of authority?

Today’s reading challenges us to examine what we truly believe about the God’s Spirit working in all the members of Christ’s body. We must be open to listen to wisdom coming from all places along the hierarchical strata. It also challenges us to be aware of the Spirit working in our family, co-workers, friends, and even enemies and to learn to trust in her guidance.
© 2010 Mary van Balen

PHOTO:MARY VAN BALEN

Now some of the people of Jerusalem were saying, “Is not this the man whom they are trying to kill? And here he is, speaking openly, but they say nothing to him! Can it be that the authorities really know that this is the Messiah? yet we know where this man is from; but when the Messiah comes, no one will know where he is from.”
Jn 7, 25-27

Today’s reading skips some of the “good parts,” picking and choosing verses. The reader will miss Jesus’ brothers chiding him about not going to the festival of Booths in Judea, saying he should go since “no one who wants to be widely known acts in secret…show yourself to the world” (4).

Jesus says he won’t go because people there want to kill him, but after his brothers leave, Jesus goes in secret.He doesn’t keep a low profile for long; soon he is preaching in the temple, astounding listeners with his wisdom. He takes them to task for objecting to his healing a man on the Sabbath when according the law of Moses, a man may be circumcised on the Sabbath.

Jesus’ remarks and the authority with which he spoke had people wondering if perhaps he was the Messiah. One problem: They knew where Jesus was from. When the Messiah came, no one would know his origins.

Of course, in hindsight, we know those listening to Jesus were making a big mistake. They only thought they knew where he came from, and they all knew nothing good came out of Nazareth. A carpenter’s son had meager “Messiah” credentials.

We may be quick to judge those in Jesus’ audience, but reading this story I thought of places held in low esteem in the USA today. West Virginia and Appalachian jokes abound, while for some it is the uppity East or West coast that is the source of people who do not share “American” values or who are too snooty. Sometimes family of origin cause people to judge others. “Oh, she’s one of so and so’s children,” and eyes roll as if that explains failures of character or accomplishment.

What about immigrants? Mexicans, Somalians, or Iraqis to name a few. Do we have expectations of people who come from those countries? Even our current President, Mr. Obama, is under suspicion by some who question his birthplace and his parentage. Is he fit to be president?

As unbelievable as that sounds to me, some citizens of this country have a difficult time with a man of Mr. Obama’s mixed race background occupying the highest office of the land.

We should not be too quick to judge the people in Jesus’ day for their ignorance or the people we meet in our own lives for their places or families of origin. Each human being carries some part of the Divinity in her soul. Every person has a gift that will enrich the rest of us. Let’s expect the best, the unimaginable: Christ comes to us in “the least” as well as in those society might deem “the most.”

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN

Praise the Lord!
O give thanks for the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever.
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
from everlasting to everlasting.
And let all the people say, “Amen.”
Praise the Lord!
P 106, 1; 48

Today’s Psalm begins and ends with praise, but in between is a long list of Israel’s unfaithfulness and sin. From grumbling in Egypt to worshipping a golden calf to adopting the gods and rituals of the pagans, God’s people forgot the Holy One’s work in their lives and in the lives of their ancestors. They forgot who they were: God’s own people. Forgetting who we are is easy to do: Our lives are busy and stressful; our country and the world struggle with injustices, hatred, and violence. Without roots sunk deep into the history of God and our ancestors, we do not see the Sacred in our midst; we do not remember that we are glorious children of God.

Jesus tells those who will listen that they do not see what is in front of them. John the Baptist gave testimony to the One who was to follow him, and his testimony was true. “He was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light. But I have a testimony greater than John’s” (Jn 5, 35-36). Jesus was doing the work he was sent to do, and while those works were testimony to his divinity, many were unable to recognize it.

We need to be still, remember, and know that God is with us as God has always been, offering forgiveness and love because we are children of the Holy One. When we do remember who we are, our works will be testimony to the greatness of this Loving Presence and will be joined to Jesus’ life work of transforming the world.
© 2010 Mary van Balen

MY MOTHER AND GRANDMOTHER

But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me.”
Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.

Is 49, 14-15

These verses evoke sweet images of a mother nursing her child and caring for the young one she had carried in her womb. Whether or not one is a mother, the metaphor is powerful. Yet, I think that many of us who are mothers may have a deeper appreciation of these words than those who have not experienced the long wait from conception to birth and the miraculous moment of bringing new life into the world.

I speak from experience. As a young adult, I was sure I would never marry in spite of my parents’ deep love for one another and my mother’s fulfillment in her role as mother. When some of her female children and later grandchildren decided to marry late or chose advanced degrees and careers over starting a family, she shook her head and wondered why. For her, no career or degree could match the accomplishment of raising a family; it was the highest calling. Later, she was passionate about her job as a teaching assistant for mentally handicapped children. They became her extended family.

I was not interested in devoting so much of my time and energy to children. I had other things to do. Among my four closest college friends, I was the only one who declared I would never marry or have children. You guessed it: I was the only one who did!

Pregnant with my first, I debated about staying home or going to work after the baby was six months old or so. I worried about bonding with her. I still wanted to write, work for the Church, and go to graduate school. I had been part of an intentional community committed to serving the poor.

After the birth of my first child, I needed about sixty seconds to make the decision. I could never have imagined the overwhelming love that filled my being when my little girl was laid on my chest, the profound connection that has never left. My desire to serve God’s people started with my family. Mom knew that, though she never would have used those words. She knew a mother’s love was about as close to God’s love as one could get. Her selfless giving was something I could not appreciate as a twenty-something. I had to grow into her wisdom.

Could a mother forget the child nursing at her breast? Could she be without compassion for her children? I have had enough experience in life as well as in work with social services to know that some wounded women have been unable to love their children as the mother in these verses. They can even abuse their children, but that is not a response of mentally healthy mothers.

When I read these verses from Isaiah and reflect on my motherly experience, I can take hope and joy from the knowledge that I am loved like that by the One who gave me life. © 2010 Mary van Balen

MEMORIAL BRONZE SCULPTURE BY CONNIE BUTLER

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool called, in Hebrew Bethzatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many –blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thrity-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.”
Jn 5, 2-8

Jesus must have been puzzled by a man who had been lying by the water for thirty-eight years. “Do you want to be made well?” was an appropriate question. One might think the man was too lazy to hurry to the water, or maybe enjoyed his plight. Someone must have been bringing him food and water to survive for years. Perhaps he liked not having to work or care for himself.

His answer was none of the above, and it made me stop. “I have no one to put me into the pool…” He had no one to help. Jesus took care of that with a word. He had no need of the water; his word had the power to heal.

I think of so many people in our world “lying in the portico” like those suffering from the earthquakes in Haiti or from famine in those in Africa enduring famine. In our own country, many people suffer from lack of affordable or available healthcare. They have no one to help. As St. Theresa of Avila said, we must be the hands and heart of Jesus in this world.

Those suffering tell us they have no one to help.

What will we do?
© 2010 Mary van Balen