Brant, Michael and I belong to a school of thought that sees
covenant as a central concept in biblical theology, particularly Catholic
biblical theology. Such an approach has
strong support in the text of Scripture and in the tradition and liturgy of the
Church, and would seem to be a "no-brainer," yet there are those who
oppose it and de-emphasize the significance of covenant for interpreting the
Scriptures in the Church. For that
reason, it's necessary periodically to justify this approach.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Thoughts on the Seven OT Readings for the Vigil
I've posted this in previous years, but thought I'd post it again for our newer readers:
Friday, March 29, 2013
Some Thoughts on the Good Friday Gospel Reading
One of the themes that runs through this reading is the Priesthood of Christ. In this post, I would like to trace that theme.
There is priestly language already in the First Reading, from Isaiah 52 & 53, the famous “Suffering Servant” Song. It speaks of the servant “making himself an offering for sin,” “justifying many,” and “bearing their guilt.” These were priestly roles in the Old Testament, not the duties of prophets or kings.
Turning to the Gospel Reading in context, we note that priestly themes precede the passage we read in Mass (Jn 18-19), beginning already in the Last Supper complex (Jn 13-17). For example, the discourse on the Holy Spirit in John 16:4-15 contains priestly concepts. Holy Spirit is sent to empower judgment of guilt vs. innocence, which reminds us of the tribunal of confession (cf. Jn 16:7 with Jn 20:22-23). The Holy Spirit is upon Jesus, and will be given to the apostles, for the purpose of forgiving sin and making moral judgment, which in the Old Testament was the prerogative of the priests (see Lev 4:20; Deut 17:9).
Thursday, March 21, 2013
The Jewish Roots of Palm Sunday and the Passion
On this coming Sunday, the Church will bring us to
what may be one of my favorite Masses and my favorite sets of Scripture
readings in the entire liturgical year: Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord,
popularly known simply as ‘Palm Sunday’.
With the Palm Sunday readings, the Church ushers us
into the climax of the liturgical year in the celebration of Holy Week. This is
the last Sunday feast before the beginning of the Triduum, which will climax in
the celebration of Easter (Latin Pascha),
what the Catechism calls the “feast of feasts” (CCC 1169).
As you may recall—especially if you have young
children who need to be held the entire time the Gospel is being proclaimed!—this
is one of the longest sets of readings in the entire liturgical year. For on this
Sunday, the Church not only commemorates the Triumphal Entry of Jesus into
Jerusalem six days before the Passover; she also lays before the faithful the
complete account of Jesus’ Passion and death, according to one of the Synoptic
Gospels (This year, being Year C, it is Luke’s account that we will hear.)
Given the sheer number and length of readings for
this Sunday, it should go without saying that I can’t give a full analysis of
them all. (Whole books have been written just on Luke’s account of the Passion!)
Instead, what I’d like to do in this post is focus our attention on the Old
Testament roots of the opening Gospel—the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem—and show
the deeper meaning behind Jesus’ actions and the way in which it anticipates
the mysteries that will be revealed in the rest of the Palm Sunday readings, in
his Passion, and in the Mass itself.
The
Triumphal Entry of Jesus according to Luke
Unlike other Masses, Palm Sunday contains two proclamations
of the Gospel. The first is from Luke’s account of Jesus Triumphal Entry into
Jerusalem:
Jesus proceeded on his journey up to Jerusalem. As
he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany at the place called the Mount of Olives, he
sent two of his disciples. He said, “Go into the village opposite you, and as
you enter it you will find a colt tethered on which no one has ever sat. Untie
it and bring it here. And if anyone should ask you,‘Why are you untying it?’ you
will answer, ‘The Master has need of it.’” So those who had been sent went
off and found everything just as he had
told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are
you untying this colt?”They answered,“The Master has need of it.” So they brought it to Jesus, threw their
cloaks overthe colt, and helped Jesus to mount. As he rode along, the people
were spreading their cloaks on the road; and now as he was approaching the
slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples began to
praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty deeds they had seen. They
proclaimed: “Blessed is the king who
comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.” Some
of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He
said in reply, “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!”
(Luke 19:28-40; New American Bible)
Now, there are many aspects of this event that
could command our attention. But the two that I think are most critical to a
proper understanding of the event are (1) the Jewish roots of Jesus’ act of
riding the colt into the city, and (2) the Jewish roots of the crowd’s response
to his action.
Why Does
Jesus Ride a Colt into Jerusalem?
As is fairly well known, by choosing to publicly
mount and ride a “colt” into Jerusalem in the midst of the procession of so
many Passover pilgrims into the city, Jesus is performing what scholars refer
to as a prophetic sign—a symbolic act
which is meant to both symbolize and set in motion some major event in the
history of salvation. In this case, Jesus’ act of riding the colt into
Jerusalem harks back to Zechariah’s prophecy of the advent of the Messiah—the long-awaited
king of Israel—to the city of Jerusalem (see Zechariah 9:9). However, there is
more here than simply an implicitly messianic public act. For when we go back
to the prophecy of Zechariah and read it in its full context, we discover several
other important features of this particular messianic king:
Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O
daughter of Jerusalem! Lo, your king
comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on an ass, on
a colt the foal of an ass. I will cut
off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he
shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and
from the River to the ends of the earth. As for you also, because of the blood of my covenant with
you, I will set your captives free from the waterless pit. (Zechariah
9:10-11)
Three aspects of Zechariah’s prophecy are worth
highlighting here: (1) he is a king of peace, not war; (2) he is king of the
whole world; and (3) he will set his people free from “the Pit”—the realm of
the dead—through the blood of the covenant. Let’s take a minute to look at each
of these in turn and see how they are fulfilled in the Passion of Jesus.
1. The King Who Rides the Colt will be a King
of Peace
First, notice that according to Zechariah, the messianic king who
will come riding on a colt into Jerusalem is not just any kind of king: he is a king of peace. He will not be coming
to wage earthly warfare, but to make the chariot and the war horse cease from
Jerusalem.
The Palm
Sunday readings will make the same point in Luke’s account of Jesus’ Passion:
in Gethsemane, when Jesus’ disciples realize that he is about to be arrested,
they begin to fight back with the sword, and one of them (Simon Peter, as we
know from John’s Gospel), cuts off the “right ear” of the high priest’s
servant. In response to this, Jesus declares:
“Stop, no more of this!” Then he touched the
servant’s ear and healed him. (Luke 22:51 NAB)
Although he is Messiah, neither Jesus (nor his
followers) will rule through the power of the sword, but through the power of imitating
him---the “one who serves”--and by taking up their crosses to follow him (see
Luke 22:24-27).
2. The King
Who Rides the Colt will be King of the World
Second, notice also that according to Zechariah’s
prophecy, the king that will come riding a colt will also be a universal king; his dominion shall not
be just over the people of Israel, but to the ends of the earth (Zech 9:10).
Once again, we see this element of Jesus’ Triumphal
Entry fulfilled in his Passion an ddeath. Although the inscription his
executioners put above his head read, “This is the King of the Jews” (Luke
23:38), at the moment of his death, it is a Gentile
centurion who recognizes the innocence of Jesus:
It was now about noon and darkness came over the
whole land until three in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then
the veil of the temple was torn down the middle. Jesus cried out in a loud
voice, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”; and when he had said this
he breathed his last. The centurion who
witnessed what had happened glorified God and said, “This man was innocent
beyond doubt.” When all the people who had gathered for this spectacle saw
what had happened, they returned home beating their breasts… (Luke 22:44-48)
As I was preparing this reflection, I could not
help but note one striking application to the present celebration of the
liturgy. Not only does Jesus’ rule over the Gentile nations begin when the
Gentile centurion recognizes his innocence, but it is also at this very moment—the
moment of his death— that the Lectionary contains a rule for the faithful throughout
the world to kneel. It says:
[Jesus] breathed his last
[Here all
kneel and pause for a short time.]
The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified
God…
By inserting our act of kneeling into the
moment between Jesus death and the recognition of the Gentile centurion, in a
certain way, the Liturgy itself realizes the prophecy of Zechariah 9. At this
moment, on Palm Sunday, throughout the world, Gentiles everywhere will kneel to
the King of the Jews. Indeed, one cannot help but see in the liturgical act of
the faithful kneeling in silence at the death of Jesus a fulfillment of the
Second Reading for Palm Sunday:
Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did
not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied
himself, taking the form of a slave… he
humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a
cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the
name which is above every name, that at
the name of Jesus every knee should bend… (Philippians 2:5-10)
3. The King
Who Rides the Colt, the Blood of the Covenant, and the Release from “the Pit”
Third and finally, according to Zechariah’s prophecy,
the king who rides the colt into Jerusalem will not deliver his people through
the shedding of blood in battle, but through the mysterious “blood of the
covenant,” which will somehow set captives free from the realm of the dead
known as “the Pit” in the Old Testament (Zech 9:10-11).
Once again, this Old Testament background of Jesus’
Triumphal Entry on Palm Sunday ultimately points forward to what he will
accomplish in his Passion. For in the Upper Room, at the Last Supper, we find a
striking parallel with Zechariah’s prophecy:
When the hour came, Jesus took his place at table
with the apostles…Then he took the bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave
it to them, saying, “This is my body,
which will be given for you; do this in
memory of me.” And likewise the cup after
they had eaten, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will
be shed for you.” (Luke 22:19-22)
In other words, by means of his Triumphal Entry,
Jesus is signaling much more than just the fact that he is the Messiah.He is also signaling what kind of Messiah he will be, and by what means he will set his people free from captivity—not by the
blood of warfare, but by the blood of the covenant, which he will pour out
under the appearance of wine in the Upper Room and on the wood of the Cross on
Good Friday. It is by means of this blood, poured out upon the Cross on
Calvary, that he promise the penitent thief that he will not go down to the
shadows of the Pit, but into the glory of Paradise:
Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled
Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us.” The other,
however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject
to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the
sentence we received corresponds to our crimes,
but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your
kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I
say to you, today you will be with me in
Paradise.” (Luke 22:39-43)
Note it well: the difference between the ‘good thief’
and the ‘bad thief’ is really about how they understand the nature of Jesus’
kingship. The first thinks Jesus Messiahship means that he will save his
subjects from suffering and physical death. The good thief recognizes that
Jesus kingdom is not of this world, and Jesus reveals to him, in the very midst
of his agony, that the restoration he has come to give is not to the earthly
land of Israel but to the promised land of “Paradise.”
The Palm
Branches and the King Who Goes Up to the Altar to Offer Sacrifice
Finally, bringing our reflection to a close, I
would like to make one last point about the crowd’s response to Jesus’
triumphal entry, with their proclamation of the words “Blessed is the king who
comes in the name of the Lord!” (Luke 19:38). As is also well known, the crowd
is taking this chant from Psalm 118, a popular song that was sung during the
feasts of Passover and Tabernacles. However, once again, when we go back and
look at the Psalm in context, we discover yet again several striking features
of the king whose arrival is being celebrated:
Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may
enter through them and give thanks to the
LORD… The stone which the builders rejected has become the head of the corner... Save us, we
beseech thee, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech thee, give us success! Blessed be he
who enters in the name of the LORD! We bless you from the house of the LORD. The
LORD is God, and he has given us light! Bind
the festal procession with branches, up to the horns of the altar! Thou art
my God, and I will give thanks to thee.. (Psalm 118:19, 22, 25-28).
Although much could be said about this passage, for
our purposes here, one point above all should stand out: When the crowds greet
Jesus with palm braches and chants, they are reenacting the words of Psalm 118.
Yet in the Psalm itself, notice that the king is not simply coming into the city
(‘open to me the gates)—he is going up to
the Temple to offer sacrifice. And not just any kind of sacrifice, but the “thanksgiving”
sacrifice, known in Hebrew as the todah
offering (see Leviticus 7).
Once this Old Testament background to the crowd’s
response is in place, the deeper meaning of Jesus’ Triumphal
Entry is revealed. The crowds with their branches and their Psalms have it
right: Jesus is the king of Israel; he has come to his city; and he is going up
to the altar to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving. But the sacrifice he is
going to offer is not that of bulls or goats, but of himself. And the todah that he will give will begin with the Eucharist celebrated in
the Upper Room and consummated on the altar of the Cross.
The Catechism on the Triumphal Entry, the
Eucharist, and Holy Week
In other words, at every Mass, when we proclaim—“Blessed
is He Who Comes in the Name of the Lord,Hosanna in the Highest!”—we are not only remembering the first
Palm Sunday. Even more, we are celebration the liturgical coming of the King into our midst, as he 'ascends' to the altar of the Eucharist. As he said at the Last Supper, there he 'pours out' the blood of
the new covenant in the one eternal offering by which we too are given peace
and prepared to enter into the kingdom of Paradise. In the words of the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
Jesus' entry into Jerusalem manifested the coming of the kingdom that the King-Messiah was going to accomplish by the Passover of his Death and Resurrection. It is with the celebration of that entry on Palm Sunday that the Church's liturgy solemnly opens Holy Week. (CCC 559-560)
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
A Protestant meets a Papabile
Marc Cardinal Ouellet |
I went, partly out of curiosity, to see what a Catholic conference on theology and Scripture might be like. Many of the talks were unexceptional—I remember some Scripture scholar struggling valiantly for an hour trying to show how some source-critical approach permitted deep spiritual insights, an effort that is something like watching a man attempt to fly with the aid of a shovel.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
A Whole New World: The Readings for Laetare Sunday
A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view ...
So run the lyrics to "A Whole New World,"the Oscar-winning single from the sound track of Disney's "Aladdin" (1992).
A new fantastic point of view ...
So run the lyrics to "A Whole New World,"the Oscar-winning single from the sound track of Disney's "Aladdin" (1992).
As incongruous as it may sound, the signature phrase from that song keeps running through my head as I ponder the readings for this upcoming Fourth Sunday of Lent, which open up to us a "whole new world," a different way of living, a form of life St. Paul calls "a new creation."
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