If you would like to catch up on some recent posts, here is a place where you can easily access some posts you might have missed. I hope it helps… enjoy.
Continue readingContext and Pericope
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. Following on from the gospel of the 5th Sunday, this gospel text is part of a larger section which includes the Last Supper and all that takes place after Jesus had washed the disciples feet, after Judas had left the table (“he took the morsel and left at once. And it was night” (13:30)), and after Peter’s protestations he would never betray Jesus. The section comes before the disciples see their master led away for trial; then be condemned to death on a cross. Their faith will be sorely tested. Jesus’ teaching, beginning in 14:1, was given to strengthen for the hours, days, months and years to come. O’Day suggests a broad outline of the context for our reading: Continue reading
What do you offer?
There is a quiet misunderstanding that can slip into our spiritual lives. We can begin to think that what happens here at Mass is the real “holy part”… and everything else, the rest of the week just ordinary life. But the Second Reading today from 1 Peter challenges that notion. It says something that is sometimes downplayed in the Catholic tradition. It says something beautiful…and challenging.
“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood…like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house…to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”
This is the basis of what is called “the priest of the laity” or sometimes “universal priesthood of believers.” You might have heard the expression. Maybe you’ve given it some thought or discussed it. It is a concept discussed in the Catechism that is rooted in the understanding of the universal call to holiness and the participation of all baptized Christians in the mission of the Church. It is a commissioning imbued indelibly during Baptism. It defines who you are, how you live, and what you bring to worship.
Who you are: you are living stones, not spectators. “You are living stones… built into a spiritual house.” Notice what Peter does not say. He does not say: “You come to the building.” He says: “You are being built into it.” The Church is not just a place we attend. It is something we are becoming.
And even more, he calls us a “holy priesthood.” Through your baptism, you were not only welcomed. You were commissioned. Not to watch. Not to sit on the sidelines. But to participate in the offering of worship. That is what a priest does: offers sacrifice. And Peter is saying: that is who you are. This is your identity
So the question becomes did you come to Mass to watch the mystery of the Mass and Eucharist unfold like a play in three acts? Because if we are honest, it is easy to slip into spectator mode: watch, listen, evaluate, and leave. Did you come to fully and actively participate? I hope so. But did you come as someone who has something to offer?
How you live: Peter tells us: “Offer spiritual sacrifices.” Right “off the bat” we face the question: what are “spiritual sacrifices”? That phrase can sound abstract until we begin to think about it in the course of daily life. Spiritual sacrifices are not dramatic or rare. They are the ordinary moments of life, consciously offered to God:
- The patience you choose in a difficult conversation
- The work you do with integrity when no one is watching
- The forgiveness you extend when it costs you
- The suffering you endure without bitterness
- The quiet acts of love no one notices
These are the normal moments of life when you sacre fice, “to make holy” because you connect them with God’s call and His grace. Those are not interruptions to your daily or spiritual life. They are your life. They are the sacrifices you, as part of the holy priesthood, are called to offer. And here is the key: a sacrifice is not just something that happens. It is something that is given. Two people can go through the same struggle: one simply endures it; the other offers it. That is the difference the priesthood of the laity makes.
What you bring: And now that you have an idea of what “offer spiritual sacrifices” means, how are you called to live out your priesthood and offer spiritual sacrifices Monday through Saturday? Because now comes Sunday. The day you bring your life to the “spiritual house”. All these sacrifices of Monday thru Saturday, you bring them here to the community – other living stones – and together “let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.”
Every Mass includes an opening prayer: “Let us pray…” This is called the Collect; a prayer when the leader of worship, the ordained priest, calls for each one to call to mind the challenges, the personal prayers, the intentions and more and join them to the Sacrifice of the Mass.
Every Mass includes the Offertory when bread and wine are brought forward; gifts will become the Body and Blood of Christ. But what they represent is also more. They represent your life. Your week. Your efforts. Your failures. Your joys. Your hidden sacrifices. All of it is meant to be placed on the altar. Because here is the truth: The bread and wine do not come alone. They carry with them everything we have offered. The spiritual sacrifices that are taken up into Christ’s sacrifice. Our lives are taken up as well and offered.
This is the mission: not just to attend Mass, but to bring your life to Mass. To consciously place it before God and say: “Take this. Use this. Unite this with Your Son.”
“You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood…like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house…to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”
- Identity: You are a living stone, part of a holy priesthood—not a spectator.
- Action: You offer spiritual sacrifices in the ordinary moments of daily life.
- Mission: You bring those sacrifices to the altar, where Christ transforms them.
And if we live this way, something changes. Mass is no longer something we “go to.” It becomes the place where our whole week finds meaning. It becomes the moment we remember daily life is part of worship. It becomes the place where our priesthood is lived.
And so, holy priests of God, when you come to Mass, what are you bringing? We are called to bring your presence and offerings, your spiritual sacrifices, your life. Because the priesthood of the laity means this: Your life is not just to be lived. It is to be offered.
Image credit: The Forerunners of Christ with Saints and Martyrs; San Domenico Altarpiece | Fra Angelico | 1420s | National Gallery of Art, Washington DC | PD-US
Show us the Father
This coming Sunday is the 5th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. In posts over the last two days we considered possible understandings of the manner in which Jesus would return to prepare his disciples followed by the explanation the disciples sought. Jesus’ statement in v.7 (If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”) is cast in the light of a deep human desire: to see and know God. Jesus tells the disciples – in knowing me, in seeing me, in my words, and in my deeds, you have seen and come to know the Father.
But Phillip is essentially asking for a theophany (v.8) – the visible manifestation of God – which raises the question of Phillip’s understanding of who Jesus really is. What comes next in Jesus’ reply is somewhat obscured by the translation of singular/plural second person pronouns, i.e., “you.” While not clear in English it is quite clear in Greek. Brian Stoffregen offers this clarifying paraphrase (vv.10-11):
“For such a long time I have been with y’all
and you have not known me, Philip?
The one having seen me has seen the father.
How are you saying, ‘Show us the father?’
Do you not believe that I am in the father and the father is in me?
The words which I am saying to y’all I am not speaking from myself,
but the father dwelling in me is doing his works.
[Y’all] Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father in me;
but if not, [y’all] believe through the works themselves.”
While this might indicate a lack of understanding and belief on the part of the disciples about the person and being of Jesus, it clearly shows their lack of understanding about the relationship between Jesus and God as Father. Jesus wanted the disciples to understand he was not just a prophet, not just a teacher, not just their disciple-master, not only the Messiah; he was the Word made flesh, God incarnate. To be in his presence was to be in the presence of the Father. And if you can’t do that on a personal level – then believe the works.
Greater Works than These. To know what this means we need first to understand what is meant by ‘the works’ of Jesus. This expression is used repeatedly in connection with Jesus’ ministry, and denotes (1) evangelizing the Samaritan woman (4:34); (2) healing the lame man at the Pool of Bethesda (5:20; 7:21); (3) healing the man born blind (9:3, 4); (4) Jesus’ miracles generally (7:3; 10:25, 32, 33, 37, 38; 14:11, 12; 15:24); (5) Jesus’ teaching (10); and (6) Jesus’ entire ministry generally (5:36; 17:4).
But what does it mean to do greater works that Jesus did? The word meizona does not mean greater in quantity, but is reserved as a qualitative assessment. No credible scholars hold that the disciples will later, in mission, perform works of a greater quality…however understood. Nor do they hold that the disciples/their works would more clearly reveal the Father. How are our works greater than Jesus’? Maybe it is as simple as the fact that our works come after the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension – when Jesus has gone to the Father. The disciples’ work/ our works come during the new, eschatological age ushered in by Jesus’ “hour” of glory when those later works reveal the complete story of the Word made Flesh and hence the fullness of God’s love. By doing what Jesus does, the disciples of every age continue the glorification of God through Jesus that was the purpose of his own works (v.13; cf 5:44; 11:4; 17:4)
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
Into the Unknown
Within my friar community, given my experience as a naval officer, these days I am the easily accessible subject matter expert on all things afloat in the current war in the middle east. The brothers ask questions because they are curious, concerned, and want to know how it will all end. I wish I knew.
The Apostles are concerned because in the gospel reading for today Jesus has told them He is going away. “Master, we do not know where you are going?” Already things seem to be going “off the rails” in these moments following the Last Supper. What will happen next? How will this all end?
In the first reading, St. Paul is doing “his thing” in Antioch. It is only the beginning of his missionary endeavors. There are another 15 chapters in the Acts of the Apostles. He has been arrested, transported and is now imprisoned in Rome. What will happen next? How will this all end?
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness” (Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities) Historian David McCullough named the unsettling reality of living in the tension between the darkness and the light. He called history “an unfolding drama in which the men and women of a given moment could not know how everything turned out.”
Except we do. Some days we just need to be reminded.
Jesus said to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.” (John 14:1-4)
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
In the Father’s House
Today’s gospel contains the verse we all remember from the King James translation version: “In my Father’s mansion, there are many rooms.” As grand as that image is, in fact, the word “mansion” does not appear in the original Greek. It simply says, 2 In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.
Verse 2 also has some translation options: “In my Father’s house [oikia] there are many dwelling places [monai].” Should oikia be translated “house,” i.e., a physical structure. Or perhaps “household,” i.e., a community of people? What about the royal lineage as in the House of David or the House of Windsor? Or even “family” – all of which are valid translations.
If one is convinced that house [oikia] refers to heaven alone (v.2) then the prepare a place (v.2) and the where I am (v.3) refer to a place in heaven where Jesus is. The I will come back speaks to the parousia – although that is not a topic this Gospel speaks about elsewhere. But clearly oikia has other meanings: household, community, family. If one lends credence to those understandings, then the reference can be heaven and earthly life.
Some of this should sound familiar to those who would study the Gospel According to John. The encounter with Nicodemus (ch. 3) and the Samaritan Woman at the well (ch. 4) hinge of the ambiguity of words. And there is more. The same ambiguity exists with mone (singular). It means a “place where one may remain or dwell,” It can mean a physical structure – and often in secular use it refers to a transient or overnight lodging – rather than a fixed dwelling.
Then again, all the focus on the “where” might be a diversion from the more important element. Many argue that the context does lend itself to a permanent dwelling – but is it physical? The only other NT use of mone is John 14:23, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling [mone]with him.” The use there seems to imply an abiding relationship between people and God – and one in which the Father and the Son come to the human person!
This noun is related to the verb menō meaning “to remain, stay, await”. The verb occurs often in this part of John’s gospel, most often referring to the relationship between God and Jesus or God and us. Another reference with this meaning of menō is 8:35 (where oikia also occurs): “ A slave does not remain in a household forever, but a son always remains.” Do the words “remain” and “house” refer to a physical place or to a relational state? Our children remain our children forever, even though they may not be living in our house. The relationship remains even while the physical presence may not.
Why mention all this? Jewish traditions that identify the ‘Father’s house’ with a heavenly dwelling place clearly lie behind the imagery of v. 2a (e.g., Pss 2:4; 66:1; 113:5-6; 123:1; Is 66:1). But as with many of Jesus’ teachings, we are asked to look more deeply into meaning. Here in this gospel “my Father’s house” needs to be read first in the context of the mutual indwelling of God and Jesus, a form of indwelling that has been repeatedly stressed from the opening verses of John’s Gospel.
And that indwelling is the critical relationship for the disciples in the post-Resurrection era – and for us in our age.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
I am the Way
This coming Sunday is the 5th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. In yesterday’s post we considered possible understandings of the manner in which Jesus would return to prepare his disciples. In vv.6-11 we have the explanation the disciples seek.
6 Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” 8 Philip said to him, “Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us.” 9 Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10 Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I speak to you I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me is doing his works. 11 Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else, believe because of the works themselves.
In v.6 there is a shift from the “where” (as in , “where you are going” – to the way to get there (“how can we know the way”). In response to this shift Jesus says “I am the way and the truth and the life.” This statement contains the sixth of seven ‘I am’ sayings with predicates in the Fourth Gospel (6:35, 48, 51; 8:12; 10:7, 9; 10:11, 14; 11:25; 14:6; 15:1, 5). Fundamental to Jesus’ response to Thomas’ question was that Jesus himself is the way. It is in this context that Jesus as ”the truth and the life” seem to be supporting statements.
Within Judaism, “the way” denotes the life-styles of the “wise” – those who live in accordance with the teachings of the sages (Prov 28:2,20). In the Psalms the “way” describes a life lived in accordance with the will and desire of God. Within this context, O’Day makes two interesting notes on these verses:
This is the heart of the good news for the Fourth Evangelist, that in Jesus, the incarnate word, the Son of God, one can see and know God in a manner never before possible. (743)
In many ways, John 14:6 is both truism and tautology, because, following John 1:18, it is indeed only through the incarnation that the identity of God as Father is revealed. John 14:6 is not a general metaphysical statement about ‘God’; Jesus does not say ‘No one comes to God except through me,’ but ‘No one comes to the Father except through me,’ and the specificity of that theological nomenclature needs to be taken seriously. John 14:6 is the very concrete and specific affirmation of a faith community about the God who is known to them because of the incarnation. (744)
O’Day goes on to assert that these verses (vv.6-7) are simply a joyous affirmation of a particular religious community, in a particular place and time in history, and was the means of defining themselves – who are in fact a minority within their own time and place. She asks the question of the verse “No one comes to the Father except through me”: is this a firm ontological statement that admits of no exceptions – e.g., a 21st century Muslim would find a different way to God, but not to the Father – or is it simply a statement of what we Christians believe?
This topic is called the “scandal of particularism.” In short, the scandal (that which causes people to stumble) is stated as: Would God really have uniquely picked Israel, and its fulfillment in Christianity, as the one and only particular way to achieve salvation? Some answer that “for Christians, yes; for others, who knows?” The Catholic Church proclaims Christ as the sole and unique savior for all and strongly rejects any idea that Christ is one among many others. But then that is just the start of a debate of extra ecclesiam nulla salus – outside the church there is no salvation.
The expression comes from the writings of Saint Cyprian of Carthage, a Christian bishop of the 3rd century. The phrase is an axiom often used as shorthand for the doctrine that the Church is necessary for salvation. It is a dogma in the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church, in reference to their own communions. It is also held by many historic Protestant churches. However, Protestants, Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox each have a unique ecclesiological understanding of what constitutes ‘the Church’. For some, the church is defined as “all those who will be saved”, with no emphasis on the visible church. For others, the theological basis for this doctrine is founded on the beliefs that Jesus Christ personally established the one Church, and that the Church serves as the means by which the graces won by Christ are communicated to believers. There is no shortage of views.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
I will come back again…and show you the way
This coming Sunday is the 5th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. In yesterday’s post we considered the meaning of the expression “in my Father’s house…” Today we consider the promises of Jesus’ return (“come back again”). Jesus’ coming back (v.3) has been variously interpreted:
- his coming to the disciples following his resurrection (cf. 20:19–29);
- his coming in the person of the Holy Spirit (cf. 14:15–21);
- his second coming at the end of this age (cf. 14:28; 21:22–23; parousia); and
- his ‘coming’ to take his disciples to be with him when they die. (This suggestion, comforting though it is to think of Christ ‘coming’ for us when we die, is not something that receives any support in this passage.)
Many commentaries opt for the second coming/parousia understanding, but what does one then do with the tension between such a view of vv.2-3 and the realized eschatology of the rest of the chapter? Eschatology is the study of the end things. The “realized” modifier speaks to the “end things” unfolding in time such that some have happened already while others lay ahead. A little too simplified, but it will do for an explanation.
For example, the thought in vv.15-17 (also 16:7) is that Jesus comes back to the believer in and through the Paraclete who dwells in the Christian. What does one do with the thought in v.23 (only other NT use of mone) that Jesus and the Father shall make their dwelling place in the Christian? Do we have to pick one vs. the other? Is there a way in which both understandings are present?
Fr. Raymond Brown insists that there are elements both of final (in the end) and of realized (now) eschatology in John and that they can be found even in contiguous passages (vv.19-25, 26-30). Yet some commentators find it difficult to think that two such different pictures of heavenly dwelling with Jesus and of earthly divine indwelling could have been put side by side in John 14 as promises of how the disciples would be consoled after Jesus’ departure without some attempt at reconciliation or harmonization. It is obvious from our discussion that the phrasing of “in my Father’s house” did not originally refer to Jesus’ return in the form of indwelling, but could the phraing have been secondarily reinterpreted to make it harmonious with the indwelling theme of the rest of the chapter?
Fr. Brown proposed a possible understanding to that end by integrating this early part of John 14 into the over-all Johannine theology of the chapter. Jesus’ return after the resurrection would be for the purpose of taking the disciples into union with himself and with the Father, without any stress that the union is in heaven. In the Greek of v.3, Jesus says literally, “I will come back again and take you to myself.” If, as Brown suggests, this continues the relational element of Father-Jesus-us, then by his death, resurrection, and ascension Jesus is to make possible a union of the disciples with his Father. Thus he must prepare his disciples for the union by making them understand how it is to be achieved. Augustine (In Jo. 118: 2) expresses this cleverly: “He prepares the dwelling places by preparing those who are to dwell in them.” Thus, vs. 4 seeks to involve the disciples, as Jesus assures them that they know the way to where he himself is going (to the Father, because they know Jesus). But just as “the Jews” of 7:35 and 8:22 could not understand where Jesus was going, neither can Thomas (v.5). To answer, Jesus must now explain clearly that he is going to the Father and that he represents the way to get to the Father (vs. 6) – to be in union with God.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
St. Catherine of Siena
Today is the Feast Day of St. Catherine of Siena, along with St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of Italy! As a feast day, there are readings specific to the occasion, taken from the First Letter of St. John and the Gospel of Matthew – and these are well chosen for the occasion.
Catherine of Siena was an Italian mystic and pious laywoman who engaged in papal and Italian politics through extensive letter-writing and advocacy. During life the Church was impacted by Roman/Italian politics that caused the Pope to move the papacy and its offices to Avignon, France. In the period 1309 to 1376 seven successive popes resided in Avignon. You can read more about the Avignon Papacy here. Catherine mounted a letter-campaign among her peers to convince Pope Gregory XI to return the papacy to Rome. He was the last of the Avignon popes. However, also part of this milieu of temporal and religious authority was the Western Schism, a time when there were multiple claimants to the Chair of Peter (1378 to 1417). The reigning pope, Urban VI, enlisted Catherine’s help to find a resolution to the schism in order that the Church be One.
St. Catherine lived in a time when there were many secular voices and motivations that seemed to be drowning out the voice of the True Shepherd. A problem not unfamiliar with each person living in our times. There are voices that offer up a “schism” between life and individual choice, between natural law and personal desires, and would point our moral compass in new directions. The voice of the True Shepherd calling us to the light and other voices calling us to a different path. The question that Catherine asked is the same as asked of us in today’s first reading – are we truly in fellowship with Jesus, doing as he commanded: “If we say, ‘We have fellowship with him,’ while we continue to walk in darkness, we lie and do not act in truth…If we say, ‘We are without sin,’ we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:6,8).
It is a question pertinent to our secular and faith lives, just as it was for the leaders of Catherine’s time. But is it a question we ask of ourselves? From time to time, during the Sacrament of Confession, I hear a penitent say “….well, I really don’t have any sins to confess, I am a pretty good person.” I may be in the presence of a Saint (the capital “S” kind) or maybe (more likely) I am with someone who could use a second look at their lives. Not a second look that is rooted in fear and scrupulosity, but one that ever seeks to find the truth, be in fellowship, and minimize the degree to which human nature participates in self-deception.
We might be blessed with a “St. Catherine” in our lives who will be unafraid to engage us and point us to the light, but in all cases we are called to learn from Jesus revealed in the Holy Word of Scripture and to reflect on our lives to see what burdens we can lay down, and what next steps we are called to take on the road towards holiness.
Image credit: St. Catherine of Siena, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo | Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Gemäldegalerie | PD-US
In my Father’s house
This coming Sunday is the 5th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. In yesterday’s post we considered the opening words of the gospel: “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (14:1). Today we consider the meaning of memorable and well known verses: 2 In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be
Verse 2 also has some translation options: “In my Father’s house [oikia] there are many dwelling places [monai].” Should oikia be translated “house,” i.e., a physical structure (as in 11:31 & 12:3);”household,” i.e., a community of people (as in 4:53 & 8:35)?; or even “family” – all of which are valid translations [EDNT 2:495]. Often people immediately think of the King James’ translation: “In my Father’s house there are many mansions.” – which immediately moves one’s thoughts and reference to heaven. Is this the intention of this passage?
If one is convinced that house [oikia] refers to heaven alone (v.2) then the prepare a place (v.2) and the where I am (v.3) refer to a place in heaven where Jesus is. The I will come back speaks to the parousia – although that is not a topic this Gospel speaks about elsewhere. But clearly oikia has other meanings: household, community, family. If one lends credence to those understandings, then the reference can be heaven and earthly life.
Some of this should sound familiar to those who would study the Gospel According to John. The encounter with Nicodemus (ch. 3) and the Samaritan Woman at the well (ch. 4) hinge of the ambiguity of words. And there is more. The same ambiguity exists with mone (singular). It means a “place where one may remain or dwell,” It can mean a physical structure – and often in secular use it refers to a transient or overnight lodging [TDNT 4:574] – rather than the fixed “mansions” of the KJ translation.
Then again, all the focus on the “where” might be a diversion from the more important element. Many argue that here in v.2 the context (because of v.3) lends itself to a permanent dwelling – but is it physical? The only other NT use of mone is John 14:23, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling [mone]with him.” The use there seems to imply an abiding relationship between people and God – and one in which the Father and the Son come to the human person!
This noun is related to the verb menō meaning “to remain, stay, await” [EDNT 2:407]. The verb occurs often in the Farewell Discourse (14:10, 17, 25; 15:4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 16) most often referring to the relationship between God and Jesus or God and us. Another reference with this meaning of menō is 8:35 (where oikia also occurs): “ A slave does not remain in a household forever, but a son always remains.” Do the words “remain” and “house” refer to a physical place or to a relational state? Our children remain our children forever, even though they may not be living in our house. The relationship remains even while the physical presence may not.
Fr. Raymond Brown (627) writes:
This special house or household where the son has a permanent dwelling place suggests a union with the Father reserved for Jesus the Son and for all those who are begotten as God’s children by the Spirit that Jesus gives. Thus there would be some precedent for reinterpreting “many dwelling places in my Father’s house” parabolically as possibilities for permanent union (mone/meno) with the Father in and through Jesus.
Why mention all this? Jewish traditions that identify the ‘Father’s house’ with a heavenly dwelling place clearly lie behind the imagery of v. 2a (e.g., Pss 2:4; 66:1; 113:5-6; 123:1; Is 66:1), but it is critical to the interpretation of Jesus’ words in this gospel that “my Father’s house” not be taken as a synonym for heaven. This needs to be read first in the context of the mutual indwelling of God and Jesus, a form of indwelling that has been repeatedly stressed from the opening verses of the Gospel (e.g., 1:1, 18). And that indwelling is the critical relationship for the disciples in the post-Resurrection era.
Image credit: Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255–1319), “Jesus taking leave of his Apostles,” ca. 1310 | Panel 4 of the Maestro, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena | Public Domain
Voices
In the gospel reading for today we heard Jesus tell some bystanders who wanted Jesus to plainly say that he was the Messiah. Jesus replied: “But you do not believe because you are not among my sheep. My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.”
How about us? Are we among his sheep? Granted in other places in the New Testament there are other indicators of membership within the flock, but today’s indicator is whether we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. But let me nuance that criteria just a shade. What voice are you most familiar with in life? What voice or voices linger in your mind most of the time? Mom? Dad? Your spouse? Your supervisor? An amazing mentor, coach, or teacher? Your favorite podcaster? Denizens of the media, pop culture, Madison Avenue, the lure of fame and recognition, or the siren’s call of riches and wealth? The secular voice of temptation to a different moral compass?
There are many voices we have heard, are hearing and will hear. Some are good and some are not so good. Oftentimes we can talk ourselves into believing that the many “voices” or influences that we encounter on a daily basis do not affect us. Perhaps. Perhaps not. There are powerful influences in the world and, whether we want to believe it or not, some of them do affect us.
Sheep are easily taught and conditioned. They learn the voice of their shepherd because it was common practice for shepherds to regularly speak to their sheep. Once the sheep became used to the shepherd’s voice, they would turn and follow him when he called. So it is with us. We will follow the voice of that which we are most familiar. Whatever it is that we immerse ourselves in each and every day will grow on us and draw us, even unknowingly, to follow.
This begs the question, “What are you most familiar with?” Ideally, we spend sufficient time in God’s Word, learning His language, tone and voice. Ideally, we dedicate some portion of our day, every day, to silent contemplation of God. As we do this, we build a habit of hearing Him speak and we become comfortable with and comforted by His voice.
Once this habit is established in us, it will be much easier to go about our busy day hearing God whenever He chooses to speak. We will immediately recognize it is Him and we will follow.
Reflect, today, upon that which calls to you the loudest. Don’t let the many other voices in our world drown out God’s voice. Instead, prepare yourself for the moments He chooses to speak. And when He does speak, let that voice grab your attention so that you can follow.
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