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The Holy Cross – History and Reflection
The Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, celebrated every year on 14 September, recalls three events: (1) the finding of the True Cross by Saint Helena, (2) the dedication of churches built by Emperor Constantine on the site of the Holy Sepulchre and Mount Calvary, and (3) the restoration of the True Cross to Jerusalem in AD 629 by the Byzantine emperor Heraclius, after it had fallen into the hands of the Persians in the AD 614 conquest of Jerusalem.
The feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross originated in the Church in Jerusalem. From the middle of the fourth century it was celebrated on 13 September, the anniversary of the dedication of the basilica erected on Golgotha under Constantine. According to the account written by a fourth-century pilgrim named Egeria, a relic of our Lord’s Cross had been found on that date a few years earlier. The “exaltation” or “raising up” of the Cross took place on the second day of the octave of the dedication, hence the date of celebration of September 14.
Emperor Constantine appointed his mother Helena the mission to locate the relics of the Christian tradition which she undertook in AD 326–28. According to Eusebius of Caesarea, who records the details of her pilgrimage to Palestine and other eastern provinces, and Socrates Scholasticus, she was responsible for the construction or beautification of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, and the Church of Eleona on the Mount of Olives; sites of Christ’s birth and ascension, respectively.
After the 70 AD destruction of Jerusalem by the Roman armies, in 130 AD Emperor Hadrian built a temple to Venus over the supposed site of Jesus’ tomb near Calvary. According to Eusebius, “[t]here was a temple of Venus on the spot. This the queen (Helena) had destroyed.” According to tradition, Helena ordered the temple torn down and, according to the legend that arose at the end of the 4th century, chose a site to begin excavating, which led to the recovery of three different crosses. Around AD 327, Bishop Macarius of Jerusalem ordered the excavations in order to ascertain the location of Calvary as well as that of the Holy Sepulchre. It was in the course of these excavations that the wood of the cross was recovered.
According to the legend, Helena sought solid proof as to which of the three crosses was the Cross of Christ. Helena had a woman who was near death brought from the city. When the woman touched the first and second crosses, her condition did not change, but when she touched the third and final cross she suddenly recovered, and Helena declared the cross with which the woman had been touched to be the True Cross. On the site of discovery, Constantine ordered the building of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Subequently, pieces of the True Cross relic were distributed across the empire and by the turn of the 5th century were venerated as far away as Italy.
In the Roman liturgy the preface of the Mass reminds us that since the tree of Paradise was the place of mankind’s fall, God has wanted the Cross to be the new tree that would save us: “.. so that where death arose, life might again spring forth.” Jesus reminds all of us, ‘And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.’ (Jn 12:32).
Reflection on the Feast by Pope Francis
The cross is a gibbet of death. Yet today we celebrate the exaltation of the cross of Christ, for on its wood Jesus took upon himself all our sin and the evil of our world, and vanquished them by his love. That is why we celebrate today’s Feast. The word of God that we have just heard tells us how, by contrasting serpents that bite with a serpent that saves. Let us reflect on these two images.
First, serpents that bite. These serpents attacked the people who had fallen once more into the sin of speaking against God. Such speaking against God was more than simply grumbling and complaining; on a deeper level, it was a sign that in their hearts the Israelites had lost their trust in him and his promises. As God’s people were making their way through the desert towards the promised land, they grew weary and could no longer endure the journey (cf. Num 21:4). They grew discouraged; they lost hope, and, at a certain point, they even seemed to forget the Lord’s promise. They lacked even the strength to believe that the Lord himself was guiding them towards a land of plenty.
It is no coincidence that, once the people no longer trusted in God, they were bitten by deadly serpents. We are reminded of the first serpent mentioned in the Bible, in the Book of Genesis: the tempter, who poisoned the hearts of Adam and Eve and made them doubt God. The devil, in the form of a serpent, tricked them and sowed seeds of distrust in them, convincing them that God is not good, and is even envious of their freedom and happiness. Now, in the desert, serpents reappear, this time as “fiery serpents” (v. 6). In other words, original sin returns: the Israelites doubt God; they do not trust him; they complain and they rebel against the one who gave them life, and so they meet their death. That is where distrustful hearts end up!
Dear brothers and sisters, this first part of the narrative asks us to examine closely those moments in our own personal and community lives when our trust in the Lord and one another has failed. How often have we grown dry, disheartened and impatient in our own personal deserts, and lost sight of our journey’s goal! Here too, in this vast country, there is a desert. For all its great natural beauty, it can also remind us of the weariness and aridity that we at times bear in our hearts. Moments of fatigue and trial, when we no longer have the strength to look up towards God. Situations in our lives when, as individuals, as Church and as a society, we can be bitten by the serpent of distrust, poisoned by disillusionment and despair, pessimism and resignation, and caught up only with ourselves, lacking all enthusiasm.
Yet this land has experienced other kinds of painful “bites” in its history. I think of the fiery serpents of violence, atheistic persecution and all those troubled times when people’s freedom was threatened and their dignity offended. We do well to keep alive the memory of those sufferings and not forget certain grim moments; otherwise, we can consider them water under the bridge and think that now, once and for all, we are on the right road. No. Peace is never achieved once and for all; like integral development, social justice and the harmonious coexistence of different ethnic groups and religious traditions, it must be achieved anew each day. Commitment is demanded on the part of all if Kazakhstan is to keep growing in “fraternity, dialogue and understanding… building bridges of solidarity and cooperation with other peoples, nations and cultures”. Yet even before that, we need to renew our faith in the Lord: to look upwards, to look to him and to learn from his universal and crucified love.
And so we come to the second image: the serpent that saves. As the people are dying from the fiery serpents, God hears Moses’ prayer of intercession and tells him: “Make a fiery serpent and put it on a pole. If anyone is bitten and looks at it, he shall live” (Num 21:8). And indeed, “if anyone was bitten by a serpent, he looked at the bronze serpent and lived” (v. 9). Yet, we might ask: Why did God not simply destroy those poisonous serpents instead of giving these detailed instructions to Moses? God’s way of acting reveals to us his way of dealing with evil, sin and distrust on the part of humanity. Then, as now, in the great spiritual battle that continues throughout history, God does not destroy the vile and worthless things that men and women choose to pursue. Poisonous serpents do not disappear; they are always there, lying in wait, ever ready to bite. What has changed then, what does God do?
Jesus tells us in the Gospel: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (Jn 3:14-15). This is the decisive shift: the serpent that saves has now come among us. Jesus, lifted up on the pole of the cross, does not allow the poisonous serpents that attack us to cause our death. Confronting our misery, God gives us a new horizon: if we keep our gaze fixed on Jesus, the sting of evil can no longer prevail over us, for on the cross he took upon himself the venom of sin and death, and crushed their destructive power. That was the Father’s response to the spread of evil in the world: he gave us Jesus, who drew near to us in a way we could never have imagined. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin” (2 Cor 5:21). Such is the infinite grandeur of divine mercy: Jesus “became sin” for our sake. Jesus, we could say, on the cross “became a serpent”, so that by gazing upon him we might resist the poisonous bites of the evil serpents that assail us.
Brothers and sisters, this is the path, the path to our salvation, our rebirth and our resurrection: to behold the crucified Jesus. From the heights of the cross, we can view our life and the history of our peoples in a new way. For from the cross of Christ we learn love, not hatred; compassion, not indifference; forgiveness, not vengeance. The outstretched arms of Jesus are the embrace of tender love with which God wishes to embrace us. They show us the fraternal love that we are called to have for one another and for everyone. They show us the way, the Christian way. It is not the way of imposition and force, of power and status; it never brandishes the cross of Christ against our brothers and sisters for whom he gave his life! Jesus’ way, the way of salvation is different: it is the way of a humble gratuitous and universal love, with no “ifs”, “ands” or “buts”
Yes, for on the wood of the cross Christ removed the venom from the serpent of evil. Being a Christian, then, means living without venom: not biting one another, not complaining, blaming and backbiting, not disseminating evil, not polluting the earth with the sin and distrust that comes from the evil one. Brothers and sisters, we have been reborn from the pierced side of the crucified Jesus. May we be free of the poison of death (cf. Wis 1:14), and pray that by God’s grace we can become ever more fully Christian: joyful witnesses of new life, love and peace.
Image credit: Finding of the True Cross, by Agnolo Gaddi (1350-96). Basilica di Santa Croce, Florence, Italy | Public Domain
About Blessings and Radical Grace
This coming Sunday is the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time. This is the second post of the day. Both posts are about some element of the Kingdom of Heaven. While the earlier post tried to make the point that the “household of God” will not be the same as the households of our own times and cultures. This posts looks at the way we view blessings in our life – or rather what we assume are blessings which can be confused with human success.
Between the two chapters, Jesus begins to address the assumptions about what constitutes God’s blessings. Where “wealth” was seen as an external sign of God’s blessings, Jesus now holds up something different in the telling of the encounter with the rich man (Mt 19:16-26). Long (Matthew, Westminster Bible Companion) writes concerning the rich man story, which also applies to our text: “… we must realize that, when the young man encounters Jesus, two very different worlds collide: this world, with all its prevailing customs and values, and the radical new way of life called for in the kingdom of heaven.” [p. 220]
This radical life comes at a price. Peter understands that and so he asks, “what about us who have already given up everything,” Jesus points to the life within the kingdom and then concludes that the called-for reversal will also be evident in the order of blessing on entering the kingdom: “But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” (Mt 19:30)
While the context for the kingdom in Mt 19 is seen “when the Son of Man is seated on his throne of glory,” But it is not just at the end of days. Matthew also grounds the radical reversal of all cultural understandings in the here-and-now. In a time (then and now) when wealth is seen as a measure of blessing, most commentators note the importance of Mt 19:16-30 – the encounter with the Rich Man. In short, when Jesus tells him “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to (the) poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” The rich man goes away sad.
As that encounter ends, Mt 20:1 begins with the word “for” (gar) which implies a connection to what goes on before. It denotes a reason. Perhaps we could even say that it introduces an answer to the question: Why will many who are first be last and the last first (see 19:30; 20:16)? It may be as simple as the idea of being “paid,” not by what one does – either by doing good deeds or keeping the commandments or working in the vineyard – but by the graciousness of God/landowner.
Both the story of the young man and the parable of the employer picture the triumph of grace. The young man is a fine specimen who “has it all”: youth, money, morality, a sense that there is still something more, an interest in eternal things. Matthew resists the temptation to make the disciples (and his own church) look better by painting the man in dark colors. He was a good, sincere, wealthy young man, and every church would be glad to “get” him. What did he lack? He anticipated being given one more commandment, one final achievement, and then his quest would be fulfilled. Not just the young man, but also the reader is surprised when he is told that he lacks all, that his salvation is impossible. At one level, the story communicates that salvation is not any kind of achievement, that on human terms entering the kingdom is not merely hard, but impossible. It is only when this “no” to all human claims is heard that the “yes” of God can be heard: But for God all things are possible. Binding this pronouncement to the call to discipleship keeps it from being cheap grace.
The rich young man is a picture of the rejection of grace by one who prefers to justify himself. The parable of the landowner and the laborers is a picture of the resentment of grace toward others by those who have worked long and hard themselves.
Image credit: Laborers in the Vineyard, icon | Public Domain | found on Flickr Fr. Ted
Thoughts on what we pass over
This coming Sunday is the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Lectionary Cycle A. In St. Matthew’s narrative we are firmly ensconced in the midst of Jesus’ instructions, not of the crowds, but of the disciples, preparing them for not only his death and resurrection, but also for their mission to the world. In other words Jesus is preparing them to be apostles, the ones sent – and preparing them to serve the new People of God being formed.
We again encounter a “gap” in the Sunday gospels, just as we did not read from Mt 17, the Lectionary assigns no Sunday reading from Matthew 19. Chapter 19 begins with the formula that signifies the end of one of Matthew’s five sections: “When Jesus had finished saying these things” (see also 7:28; 11:1; 13:53; and 26:1). Jesus’ Galilean ministry is finished. Nonetheless, many commentators (e.g., Jensen, Carter, and Boring) hold that chapters 19-20 should be read together. So, what is in Matthew 19? And why is it important to our reading of Mt 20?
Carter (Matthew and the Margins) titles his section on these two chapters: “The Alternative Households of God’s Empire.” He writes:
The coherence of these two chapters resides in pervasive cultural understandings of households. … They [Aristotelean tradition, Neo-pythagoreans, and Hellenistic Judaism] understood the household to consist of four dimensions, namely, three relationships (husband-wife; father-children; master-slave) and the male’s task of earning wealth. A power dynamic controlled the relationships in which the husband/father/master ruled over the wife/children/slaves. The household was hierarchical and patriarchal in that the male held power over women and children. It was marked by strict gender differentiation. …
The sections of chapters 19-20 reflect this household pattern: the husband-wife relationship (including divorce, 19:3-12), children (19:13-15), procuring wealth (19:16-30), being slaves (20:17-28). In addition, 20:1-16 is a parable about a householder administering his estate and hiring workers.
But while the chapters utilize this household structure, they do not endorse the then-existing cultural norm. Rather, the two chapters subvert this hierarchical and patriarchal structure by instructing disciples in a more equal pattern (cf. 20:12). Husbands are not to rule over wives but to participate in a “one-flesh” relationship (19:3-12); all disciples are children, there are no parents (19:13-15); following Jesus, not procuring wealth and status, defines discipleship (19:16-30); all disciples are slaves like Jesus, there are no masters (20:17-28). The parable of the householder in 20:1-16 exemplifies God’s distinctive and different ways of ordering life. The concluding story of Jesus healing the blind men who beg for mercy offers disciples hope that they too will be enabled by Jesus’ power to live this alternative and against-the-grain existence (20:29-34). That is, as Jesus journeys to Jerusalem to die, the chapters provide disciples with instruction on an alternative household that befits the empire or reign of God. [pp. 376-7]
Image credit: Laborers in the Vineyard, icon | Public Domain | found on Flickr Fr. Ted
The Challenge of Forgiveness
Note: this weekend Deacon Mike is preaching. This is a homily from the 10th anniversary of 9-11
Today’s readings offer an uncomfortable, but clear challenge to us on this anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks: the challenge of forgiveness.
- A woman @ Mass – she can’t forgive and no longer expects God’s forgiveness
- A marine @ Fallujah – And now he wondered how that boy’s mother or God could ever forgive him for shooting a child.
- Lloyd LeBlanc at his murdered son’s side – as he prayer the Lord’s Prayer he realized the depth of the commitment. He would have to forgive the person who had done this heinous crime and taken his son’s life. He wondered how he could not overcome bitterness and feelings of revenge that would surely wash over him day-by-day. LeBlanc said that each day, for the rest of his life, forgiveness would have to be prayed for and struggled for and won.
- And the families and survivors of 9-11 each have their own stories – and the struggle with forgiveness – and forgiveness’ attendants: healing and wholeness.
Forgiveness is a challenge – even for we who live well away from the boundaries and intensity of these stories. Like them we are called to be people who truly seek wholeness and completeness in this life through Christ – the one who commands that we forgive our brother from the depths of our heart.
And we are left to navigate the maze of the complexity that is forgiveness. And it seems to me there are lots of instances when our forgiveness is all too human and partial….
- No need to apologize – there is nothing to forgive …. But I wonder if I am really just in the state of denial at the moment and maybe this will all catch up with me later.
- Forgiveness? This isn’t about forgiveness, this is about justice… or maybe its vengeance/ revenge
- You have not asked yet and maybe you never will – and you may not even think you have done something wrong, but I forgive you…. But I wonder how real that is
- I forgive you – but inside I am still madder-than-a-wet-hen and I just forgave you because I am supposed to but I really do not feel like it.
- I forgive you because it’s my Christian duty to forgive, but you don’t deserve it.
- I forgive you – but in truth I really do not know what I am supposed to do with what I am feeling – I don’t want to feel this way.
- I forgive you – and I mean it …. really, …but I won’t forget and I will hold you responsible for changing so that if you do this again, I will remind you of your former malfeasance.
- I forgive you – but that is it …. We can no longer be friends. I can have nothing to do with you.
- I am not ready to forgive you … maybe later.
- I can’t forgive you – what you have done is so horrific that I can never trust you again – and I will never forget.
That’s just my list. I am human and limited in my love and in my forgiveness. I seem to be re-learning how hard it is forgiving people who have sinned against me – to know what to do when my heart is filled with anger and a desire for revenge – even as I struggle to let God’s mercy and justice fill my soul. I don’t have any clear answers.
Without mercy and forgiveness for others, how can I expect mercy or forgiveness from God?
This Sunday as Americans take time to remember the events of September 11and we are saddened – but are called as Christians to remember the events of 2000 years ago when God’s own Son, surveying a field of broken lives and desolate hearts, chose to call down from heaven not vengeance – but forgiveness.
He by doing so opened a future marked
- not by judgment but by mercy,
- not by calculations of retribution but trust,
- not by despair but hope,
- not by fear but courage,
- not by violence but healing,
- not by scarcity but abundance, wholeness,
- not by hate but love,
- and not by death but by new life. Newness of life.
That’s what forgiveness can do.
May God lead us through this maze of broken lives and give all of us a palpable sense of the forgiveness in which – and by which – we live.
May God grant us the faith and courage to walk into the future such forgiveness creates.
Amen
What goes around…
This coming Sunday is the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
31 Now when his fellow servants saw what had happened, they were deeply disturbed, and went to their master and reported the whole affair.32 His master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you your entire debt because you begged me to.33 Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?’34 Then in anger his master handed him over to the torturers until he should pay back the whole debt. 35 So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives his brother from his heart.”
We are not told what motivated the other slaves to take up the case. Imprisonment for debt was not in itself illegitimate (cf. 5:25–26); the first slave was acting within his rights. What shocked them was his failure to exercise toward his fellow-slave even a little of the generosity with which he himself had been treated (cf. 7:12). And that is the charge the king now puts into words. The phrase “entire debt” puts it all in perspective and prompts the hearers to reflect on the extent of their own indebtedness to the grace of God.
The king tells the servant that what he received (pity/mercy) he should have paid forward to his fellow servants. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.” (Mt 5:7) If mercy is the characteristic of the king/God, it should also be the characteristic of his servants/people. Conversely, where God’s people do not show mercy they cannot expect to receive it (Jas 2:13).
The forgiveness which was freely granted is now withdrawn, not because the servant is any more likely to be able to pay the debt, but because he has proved himself unworthy of his master’s mercy. And this time it is worse: in place of being sold, he is to be tortured.
“But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions.” (Mt 6:15) – as already made clear, God, whose generosity is beyond measure, will nonetheless not forgive the unforgiving. They must expect the punishment which their unforgiven sin deserves. And the forgiving-ness which he expects of his people is not a reluctant or merely verbal concession which leaves the underlying problem unresolved, but a genuine, warm forgiveness “from the heart” so that the broken relationship is fully restored. Those who will not forgive must not expect to be forgiven; the measure they give will be the measure they get back (7:1–2).
Image credit: Raphael, Handing-over the Keys, 1515, Victoria and Albert Museum, London | Public Domain
All these years later
Everyone remembers 9/11 differently. 93% of Americans over the age of 30 remember where they were and what they were doing when they received the news. For Americans 25 and under, the number drops of 42%. For Americans 20 years and younger, they were not yet born or not old enough to have a memory. Nonetheless 9/11 affected the nation. Want to know more? Read the Pew Research Center’s Two Decades Later, the Enduring Legacy of 9/11. Here and at your parish may we all actively remember and pray with and for 9/11 family members, survivors, and rescue and recovery workers for their service and healing.
A Fallen Brother
We Franciscans especially remember and pray for Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M., a member of Holy Name Province who was registered as the first victim number of the 9/11 attacks. A long-time fire chaplain, Father Mychal was in the lobby of towers praying for the people in the towers, the fire crew, and emergency responders. He witnessed people jumping from the building – and prayed for them too. When the first tower collapsed, the force of the collapse enveloped him in its devastation. He died doing what he loved. The NY Post photo of him being carried from the rubble has become a haunting icon of that day.
Where were you…?
On the morning of 9-11 I was in Cochabamba, Bolivia in the first few days of an immersion Spanish language course. On that morning, the Guardian of the friary came to my room, clearly animated about something, speaking rapidly in Castilian Spanish, pulling me by the arm to a room where there was a television. On screen were the scenes of the morning. We were watching CNN Español. The Guardian spoke no English. I did not speak Spanish. All I could do was watch in horror, guess at the meaning, and wonder what was I seeing? Only much later in the day did a bilingual brother arrive who could fill in the missing pieces of my understanding. Later that week, watching CNN Español, I realized they were live streaming a funeral. Slowly I realized it was from St. Francis of Assisi, 31st Street NYC, our provincial “mother church.” Even more slowly did I realize it was a funeral for one of my brother friars, Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M. Home seemed even farther away that day.
A Prayer
On the anniversary of September 11, 2001, we call on God’s spirit within us to help deepen our response to our commitment to non-violence. We are so aware of the fear and violence that continues to permeate our world since 9/11. As we pray in remembrance of that tragic day, help us also to be people of hope who embrace a belief that a new vision is possible.
God of the years, we call to you this day when the memories of 9/11 weigh so heavily upon our hearts. We recall with horror and renewed shock that day when airplanes flew into buildings and people perished. We remember our fear and anger, our confusion and sense of threat. We remember all that was lost to us that day: our sense of security, our peace, our innocence, our belief that we were safe beyond such random violence and death. Most of all we remember those who died in New York, Washington, DC, and Pennsylvania, their lives of promise extinguished in hatred.
God of all creation, you have taught us that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. We live by hope in the future you hold for us and for Earth. Grant us, we pray, hope for the future generations that they may never know or inflict the horror and terror we recall this day. Strengthen our hope when it falters and teach us to strive in all we do to realize the hope that is in your word and witness.
Eternal God, in you our hope is boundless. You renew hope in us through the promise of a future in which no one shall be afraid or lift up a sword against a neighbor. We pray in hope for the peace of the world among peoples and nations, religions and cultures, until we become a beloved community reconciled to one another under your sovereignty.
Loving God, you inspire us with love for all creation. Give us today the strength and courage to transform the compassion of our hearts into acts of peace, mercy and justice. Forgive us for the arrogance that leads to moral blindness, for desires for vengeance and retaliation and for willingness to sacrifice others for our own security.
Empower us to shape a world marked by ways of life that lead to justice and peace. Fashion in us a people who are more ready to grow in understanding than eager to judge those who are different from us. Form us, a people determined to heal wounds rather than inflict them. We ask all of this in the name of Jesus who came among us to show us the way.
Amen
Unto others…
This coming Sunday is the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
28 When that servant had left, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a much smaller amount. He seized him and started to choke him, demanding, ‘Pay back what you owe.’29 Falling to his knees, his fellow servant begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back.’30 But he refused. Instead, he had him put in prison until he paid back the debt.
Clearly the first servant has authority as indicated by his ability to place the second servant in debtor’s prison (v.30). It is not clear if the first servant recognizes the great mercy shown to him. Just having been forgiven “a zillion dollars,” he brow beats a fellow servant about “a much smaller amount,” literally, a hundred denarii – perhaps a 100 days of wages. Not insignificant, but certainly in the realm of being able to be repaid. (For the record, it represents only one six-hundred-thousandth of the debt the first slave has just been forgiven.)
It should not be lost that the pattern and the words of appeal matches the earlier exchange of king-and-servant. Yet, the second servant does not ask for anything but patience. But for naught. For his troubles, the servant is choked and put in prison. There is no compassion, mercy or justice. The first servant offers no part of what he had already received.
Image credit: Raphael, Handing-over the Keys, 1515, Victoria and Albert Museum, London | Public Domain
The Debt
This coming Sunday is the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time.
24 When he began the accounting, a debtor was brought before him who owed him a huge amount.25 Since he had no way of paying it back, his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt.26 At that, the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’27 Moved with compassion the master of that servant let him go and forgave him the loan.
What v.24 describes as “a huge amount” is literally, “ten thousand talents.” The talent was a unit of coinage of high but varying value depending on its metal content (gold, silver, copper) and its place of origin.
As France [706] writes: “A talent was originally a weight (probably about 30 kg.) of metal; when used as a monetary term without specifying the metal involved it would probably have been understood to be of silver. While the exact amount varied, a talent of silver was conventionally reckoned at 6,000 denarii. If one denarius was an acceptable day’s wage for a laborer (see 20:1–15), a single talent would then represent what a laborer might hope to earn in half a lifetime. It was, at all events, a very large sum of money. Ten thousand talents (sixty million denarii; or some 300 tons of silver!) is therefore a sum far outside any individual’s grasp. Ten thousand (myria, hence our “myriad”) is the largest numeral for which a Greek term exists, and the “talent” is the largest known amount of money. When the two are combined the effect is like our ‘zillions.’ What God has forgiven his people is beyond human calculation.”
A debt of ten thousand talents is far beyond what any individual might owe the king, much less a slave. But then, it is a parable and so it is not necessary to reflect a real situation. The huge amount has a purpose to play: engender amazement both at the unheard-of generosity of the master and at the stupidity of the slave.
In v.25, the king intends to serve justice by selling the servant, his family and property, in payment of the debt. The scholar Jeremias reports that the top price for a slave was 2,000 denari. Thus if one does that math, unless the servant has 30,000 children and/or lots of property, the king will not recover the amount of the loan (v.27). The servant throws himself on the mercy of the king even giving him an empty promise of repaying the debt in full (v.26). The absurd proposal only serves to underline the generosity of the master who, far more than simply giving him time, freely writes off the whole debt out of compassion. The parable thus speaks of the totally unmerited grace of God which forgives his people more than they could ever imagine because they are unable to help themselves.
Image credit: Raphael, Handing-over the Keys, 1515, Victoria and Albert Museum, London | Public Domain
Lightly Held
The first reading today is from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. This is one of those Pauline passages that can sound rather alarming: “Let those having wives act as not having them, those weeping as not weeping, those rejoicing as not rejoicing…” (1 Cor 7:29–30). What are we supposed to make of that? What we are supposed to do is to first ensure we understand the context.
Paul is responding to questions the Corinthians themselves had apparently sent Paul: “Now in regard to the matters about which you wrote…” (7:1). Marriage, celibacy, sexual relations, divorce, remarriage, and one’s state in life all appear in the chapter. At the beginning of our text, Paul turns his attention to the unmarried and explicitly distinguishes his pastoral judgment from a direct command of the Lord: “I have no commandment of the Lord, but I give my opinion…” (v.25) And then come the context: “because of the present distress” (v. 26). Exactly what Paul means by that distress is debated. It could include concrete hardships or persecution, but Paul’s argument clearly also has an eschatological dimension. Paul and the earliest Christians lived with an intense expectation that Christ’s return could be near: “I tell you, brothers, the time is running out” (v.29).
In that light, Paul’s pastoral advice is essentially: don’t make major changes merely for the sake of changing your status. Live faithfully where you are, because everything belongs to a larger reality that God is bringing to fulfillment. He repeats the phrase “as not.” He admonished the people to live married though as not married (so, too weeping, rejoicing, owning). He’s saying don’t allow anything belonging to this passing world to become absolute. Grief is real but grief doesn’t have the final word. Joy is real but earthly happiness isn’t the fullness of Christian hope. Possessions have legitimate uses but they don’t ultimately belong to us. Marriage matters enormously but even marriage isn’t eternal in precisely its present form. The world is good but this present configuration of the world isn’t God’s finished creation.
What might all this mean for us? I don’t think most of us are living with an intense expectation of Jesus’ immediate return. I’d offer that Paul’s lesson for us is to live with a degree of detachment without disengagement. Consider times when we have turned to career, money, health, possessions, relationships and other things in our plans. None of these things is necessarily bad. Many are very good.
Paul isn’t saying don’t seek these things out or enjoy them, he is saying don’t ask them to bear the weight of fulfillment that only God can bear. Hold these things, but hold them lightly.
Love your spouse deeply but recognize that your spouse is God’s gift, not your possession. Enjoy what God gives you but don’t build your identity upon having it. Grieve who you lose but don’t believe that who death has taken is therefore lost forever. Use possessions without letting them possess you. Participate fully in the world but remember that this world in its present form is passing away. That produces a distinctively Christian way of living: fully engaged, but not ultimately attached; deeply interested and not indifferent.
Maybe a way to understand Paul’s point is to ask yourself: What am I holding so tightly that I have forgotten it was given to me by God? If we hold things lightly, in almost an open hand, perhaps we will remember the gift we have received.
And I hope that in those moments we realize that everything can be loved, everything passes away but only God can be loved as though He will never pass away.
Image credit: Saint Paul Writing His Epistles |attributed to Valentin de Boulogne | Houston Museum of Fine Arts| PD-US.
Parable of the Debtors
This coming Sunday is the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time. 23 That is why the kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. The parable which makes up most of the rest of the discourse underlines the principle of unrestricted forgiveness which Jesus has just enunciated. Most of Matthew’s parables are introduced as illustrations of “the kingdom of heaven” (13:11, 24, 31, 33, 44, 45, 47, 52; 20:1; 22:2; 25:1). Here that formula is especially appropriate, since the parable concerns a king and his subjects: this then is how God rules. That application of the story will be made explicit in v. 35: the king’s action represents how “my heavenly Father” will deal with you.
The second part of Jesus’ dialogue, in response to Peter’s question, is a long parable, enforced with a brief explanatory comment in v. 35. In short, the parable is a comparison of God’s operation of forgiveness and ours. Because there is no limit to God’s generosity to his undeserving people, they in turn cannot claim the right to withhold forgiveness from their fellow-disciples. A community of the forgiven must be a forgiving community.
The parable is about a king and his slaves in order to explain how the kingship of God operates: 23 That is why the kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants. The NAB translates doulos as servants. To be clear, these are not employed persons; they are owned. In the ancient world slaves, while not free to determine their own lives or to offer their service to anyone but their owner, could become highly responsible and trusted members of the household; a king’s slaves might hold positions of authority which today might be taken by civil servants, but they are at best indentured servants. I make this point to underscore the points made later on in the parable.
The parable’s characters are clear. The actions of the king in the parable indicate that he is to be identified with God. He demands a reckoning (v. 23), is approached as lord (v. 26), and shows great mercy in writing off the huge debt (v. 27). Yet the merciless servant failed to learn from the example of the king, and his cruelty toward his fellow servants results in the revocation of his own forgiveness (vv. 28–34).
Note the use of the term “fellow servant” (vv.28,29,31,33) makes it clear that these servants form a community as do the disciples of Christ. The parable assumes that disciples are, by definition, forgiven people. It makes it unmistakably clear that the initiative is with God: it is because he has first forgiven that we can be expected, and indeed enabled, to forgive. It is with the compassion that disciples have been forgiven that they are expected to show that same compassion in forgiving others.
As France [703] notes, the parable is in the tradition of the prophet Nathan’s parable of the ewe-lamb (2 Sam 12:1–7) told to King David. David reacts with indignation at the injustice of Nathan’s parable and wants the villain punished. It is then that Nathan reveals the villain as he tells David, “You are the man!” In this same way, we the listener of Jesus’ parable was heartened when we hear the unforgiving servant get his just desserts in v.34, only to be brought up short in v.35 to know that “We are that man!”
It should be noted that the language herein will echo the “Lord’s Prayer” in Mt 6:12, “and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” The parable in Mt 18 picks up that same language using “debt” for the sin which needs to be forgiven. This parable thus spells out what Jesus has stated in a stark propositional form in his comment on 6:12 in 6:14–15, that forgiveness must be reciprocal, so that God cannot be expected to forgive the unforgiving. It should also be noted that the imagery of the settling of accounts is not meant to represent the last judgment but forgiveness that has already taken place. But the forgiveness we have already received may be forfeited by our failure to forgive in our turn. It was freely given, but it must not be presumed on. The parable often has the effect on listeners of blending our natural fear of punishment with the more fundamental motive of gratitude and imitation of the grace of God.
Image credit: Raphael, Handing-over the Keys, 1515, Victoria and Albert Museum, London | Public Domain
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