I
went to a public high school in Hawaii back in the late 1980’s, and the social
group I hung around with had more than its share of young cynics. For some reason, it was cool to be morose,
and one of my buddies was fond of responding to anyone’s account of some
problem or difficulty that they were facing with the lovely couplet, “Well,
life s***ks, then you die.” At the time,
we thought it was amusing, a kind of gallows humor, but in hindsight I regret
showing any approval for such expressions of pessimism. Life is difficult, but it neither helps nor
is it virtuous to utter expressions of stoic fatalism. The true virtue, the true courage, is to
maintain hope (and also love, and joy) in the face of what can sometimes look
and feel like an ocean of darkness.
This
Sunday’s Readings raise the problem of the great sorrows of life, the reverses,
difficulties, and especially illnesses that can seem to sap life of all joy. Yet
in the Gospel, Jesus travels through Galilee relieving the ills and oppressions
which have reduced so many to a life of “drudgery.” The Readings leave us to ponder: how is it
that even today, Jesus still comes to us to heal our broken-heartedness,
restoring joy and hope?
The
First Reading is from the Book of Job:
Job spoke, saying:
Is not man's life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, "When shall I arise?"
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.
Is not man's life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, "When shall I arise?"
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.
This
Sunday is one of only two occasions (the other being the 12th Sunday
of OT Year B) that we here the Book of Job proclaimed on a Lord’s Day or Feast
Day, so it seems fitting to say a little bit more about this book that is
somewhat neglected in the contemporary Lectionary.
In dramatic format, the book of Job
recounts the life and sufferings of a righteous Gentile of ancient times as he
undergoes prosperity, disaster, depression, and—finally—restoration during a
period of painful testing by YHWH. The book is a masterpiece of world
literature and the Old Testament’s most direct treatment of the problem of evil
and theodicy—that is, the justice of God.
Unlike some of the poetical books, Job
is considered canonical in all traditions. Indeed, from ancient times right up
to today, it remains one of the most popular and widely read books in the Old
Testament. It takes its name from the main character: “Job” (Hebrew ’iyyob;
Greek Iōb; Latin Liber Iob). The meaning of Job’s name is
uncertain but may be derived from a Semitic root meaning “enmity” or
“adversity”.
The
text of the book is relatively stable, and most ancient versions read similarly
to the Hebrew. The exception is the original Septuagint, which preserved a
somewhat shorter form of the book apparently condensed from the longer Hebrew.
Origen replaced the verses missing from the Septuagint with verses from another
Greek translation (Theodotion) to produce the form of the text widely used in
the early Church.
In the Jewish tradition, Job falls in
the third canonical division, the “Writings” (Hebrew ketuvim), and is
usually placed immediately after the Psalms. In the Christian tradition, Job
ordinarily appears as the first of the poetic books, or wisdom literature. The
reason for this appears to be based on the traditional identification of Job
with “Jobab, the son of Zerah”, one of the ancient kings of Edom (Gen 36:33), a
land that, though Gentile, was known for its wisdom (Obad 8–9). From this point
of view, Job would be set either in the patriarchal or pre-patriarchal age and,
thus, in an earlier time period than that presumed by any of the other books of
poetry, which are largely associated with the Davidic and Solomonic eras. It
may also be the case that the prose prologue and epilogue of the book (Job 1–2;
42:7–16) function as a kind of generic bridge between the historical books and
the wisdom literature.
The book of Job is structured like a
drama or play—in fact, it can and has been dramatized on the stage. The
literary structure is extremely clear: a “narrator” delivers a prose prologue
(Job 1–2) and epilogue (Job 42:7–16) that surround the “action” (Job 3:1—42:6),
which consists of spoken parts for six characters: Job; his three friends
Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar; a young man named Elihu; and God himself.
In addition to the typological value of
the figure of Job, the book was also cherished for the significant contribution
it makes to the doctrine of providence—that is, the way in which we understand
God’s sovereignty over creation and history and how he guides all things to a
good end: namely, himself. For example, in the Middle Ages, Saint Thomas
Aquinas chose the book of Job as the object of one of his most detailed
scriptural commentaries and has this to say about its role in the canon:
“This opinion [that all things are
governed by chance] . . . is found to be especially harmful to the human race,
for if divine providence is taken away, no reverence for or fear of God
based on truth will remain among men. Anyone can discern easily enough how
great an apathy toward virtue and a proneness to vice follow from this
condition. . . . For this reason, the first and most important concern of those
who pursued wisdom in a divine spirit for the instruction of others was to
remove this belief from the hearts of men. Therefore, after the giving of the
Law and the Prophets, the Book of Job is placed first in the number of the
Hagiographa, that is, the books written wisely through the Spirit of God for
the instruction of men, the whole intention of which turns on showing through
plausible arguments that human affairs are ruled by divine providence.”
This
is a remarkable insight into the canonical function of Job. Aquinas rightly
recognizes that before people can be led to the praise of God and the pursuit
of wisdom found in the Psalter and Solomonic literature, one must first deal
with the question of why there is suffering and whether a God who permits such
suffering is indeed just and worthy of praise. In modern times, in which the
doctrine of providence has been very much eclipsed by a secular world view that
attributes all things to chance, the book of Job continues to have a key role
to play in the living tradition.
Lastly we should discuss one of the
major themes of Job: how does suffering relate to sin? Indeed, one of the most
pressing and universal issues that arises in the course of human life is the
question: “Why am I suffering so much? Is God punishing me for my sins?”
In his teaching on the Christian
meaning of human suffering, Pope John Paul II used the book of Job as an
inspired example of the fact that not all suffering is the direct result of a
person’s sins. Like Job before them, the innocent can and do experience
suffering:
“A judgement that views suffering
exclusively as a punishment for sin runs counter to love for man. This had
appeared already in the case of Job’s “comforters” who accuse him with
arguments based on a conception of justice devoid of any opening to love (cf.
Job 4ff.). One sees it still better in the case of the man born blind: “Who
sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (Jn 9:2). It is like
pointing the finger against someone. It is a judgement which passes from
suffering seen as a physical torment, to that understood as a punishment for
sin: someone must have sinned, either the man in question or his parents. It is
a moral imputation: he suffers, therefore he must be guilty.”
To put an end to this
petty and unjust way of thinking, it was necessary to reveal in its essential
profundity the mystery of the suffering of the Innocent One, the Holy One, the
“Man of Sorrows!” Ever since Christ chose the Cross and died on Golgotha, all
who suffer, especially those who suffer without fault, can come face to face
with the “Holy One who suffers”, and find in his passion the complete truth
about suffering, its full meaning and its importance.”
In the light of this
truth, all those who suffer can feel called to share in the work of Redemption
accomplished by means of the Cross.”
Perhaps
more than any other aspect of Job, it is the insistent message of the book that
sin and suffering do not always have a direct causal relationship that has the
power to speak to every human being that has ever experienced the feeling of
being abandoned or punished by God in the midst of suffering.
P. Our Responsorial Psalm is Ps 147:1-2, 3-4,
5-6:
R. (cf. 3a) Praise the Lord, who heals
the brokenhearted.
Praise the LORD, for he is good;
sing praise to our God, for he is gracious;
it is fitting to praise him.
The LORD rebuilds Jerusalem;
the dispersed of Israel he gathers.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He tells the number of the stars;
he calls each by name.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
to his wisdom there is no limit.
The LORD sustains the lowly;
the wicked he casts to the ground.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
Praise the LORD, for he is good;
sing praise to our God, for he is gracious;
it is fitting to praise him.
The LORD rebuilds Jerusalem;
the dispersed of Israel he gathers.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He tells the number of the stars;
he calls each by name.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
to his wisdom there is no limit.
The LORD sustains the lowly;
the wicked he casts to the ground.
R. Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted.
Psalm
147 is one of the five great “Hallelujah” Psalms that conclude the Book of
Psalms. Psalms 146-150 all begin with
the Hebrew phrase “Hallelu-Yah,” which means “Praise the LORD!” These psalms were either composed specifically,
or else edited and arranged, to be a five-fold conclusion to the entire
book. Psalm 147 focusses on thankfulness
to God for a miracle that he worked: against all expectation, he restored the
people of Judah to their land (after exile to Babylon) and allowed them to
rebuild their spiritual capital (Jerusalem) and the Temple. This Psalm compares the wonders that God
works in nature with the wonders he has worked for his people in salvation
history. In this, the Psalm emphasizes a
theme also characteristic of the Book of Job, namely, that the God of Creation
is also the God of Redemption, that the God who established the laws of physics
also established the moral law. Psalm
147 looks about both orders, the order of creation and the order of redemption,
and observes in both reasons to give praise to God. In nature we see God’s kindness in providing
food for wild animals; in salvation history, we see God’s kindness in restoring
the exiled Judeans to their land. Thus,
there are signs in all of reality that God lifts up the broken-hearted.
2.
The Second Reading is 1 Cor
9:16-19, 22-23:
Brothers and sisters:
If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast,
for an obligation has been imposed on me,
and woe to me if I do not preach it!
If I do so willingly, I have a recompense,
but if unwillingly, then I have been entrusted with a stewardship.
What then is my recompense?
That, when I preach,
I offer the gospel free of charge
so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel.
Although I am free in regard to all,
I have made myself a slave to all
so as to win over as many as possible.
To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak.
I have become all things to all, to save at least some.
All this I do for the sake of the gospel,
so that I too may have a share in it.
If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast,
for an obligation has been imposed on me,
and woe to me if I do not preach it!
If I do so willingly, I have a recompense,
but if unwillingly, then I have been entrusted with a stewardship.
What then is my recompense?
That, when I preach,
I offer the gospel free of charge
so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel.
Although I am free in regard to all,
I have made myself a slave to all
so as to win over as many as possible.
To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak.
I have become all things to all, to save at least some.
All this I do for the sake of the gospel,
so that I too may have a share in it.
The
Second Reading at this time of year is marching through 1 Corinthians in order,
so we do not find a close integration of theme with the other readings. Nonetheless, we do find St. Paul speaking of
experiencing suffering, becoming a “slave” of all and experience weakness with
the “weak.” This gives us a different perspective
on the reality of suffering: we find that the desire to spread the Gospel can
give us the desire and the strength to endure the hardships of this life and
even to go beyond, to share the hardships of others, for the sake of the Good
News. St. Paul wishes that he “too many
have a share in it.” What is this “share”? It is participation in heaven, in the eternal
communion with God that Jesus has made possible for us. This is a happy future that Job did not
clearly see, although he had a strong yet vague sense that God would vindicate
him in the life to come.
G. Our Gospel is Mk 1:29-39:
On leaving the synagogue
Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John.
Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a fever.
They immediately told him about her.
He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.
Then the fever left her and she waited on them.
When it was evening, after sunset,
they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons.
The whole town was gathered at the door.
He cured many who were sick with various diseases,
and he drove out many demons,
not permitting them to speak because they knew him.
Rising very early before dawn, he left
and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed.
Simon and those who were with him pursued him
and on finding him said, "Everyone is looking for you."
He told them, "Let us go on to the nearby villages
that I may preach there also.
For this purpose have I come."
So he went into their synagogues,
preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.
Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John.
Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a fever.
They immediately told him about her.
He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.
Then the fever left her and she waited on them.
When it was evening, after sunset,
they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons.
The whole town was gathered at the door.
He cured many who were sick with various diseases,
and he drove out many demons,
not permitting them to speak because they knew him.
Rising very early before dawn, he left
and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed.
Simon and those who were with him pursued him
and on finding him said, "Everyone is looking for you."
He told them, "Let us go on to the nearby villages
that I may preach there also.
For this purpose have I come."
So he went into their synagogues,
preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.
Here
we see Jesus traveling throughout Galilee, relieving the sufferings that people
experience in this fallen world: illnesses, demonic possession, various
diseases. These are evils that entered
the world due to the fall of Adam and Eve into sin. Jesus’ presence “takes us back to Eden,” to
before sin entered the world. He
restores health and wholeness, and delivers people from the bondage to Satan to
which Adam and Eve voluntarily submitted themselves and their descendants. In this way, Jesus fulfils prophecies that
the Messiah would restore Eden:
Is. 11:6 The wolf
shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the
calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.
Ezek. 34:25 “I will make
with them a covenant of peace and banish wild beasts from the land, so that
they may dwell securely in the wilderness and sleep in the woods. 26
And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will
send down the showers in their season; they shall be showers of blessing.
Jesus
shows himself to be compassionate, wanting to alleviate all the undeserved
suffering of innocent and powerless people, who like Job suffer through no
fault of their own, but because of the sins of others and the wiles of the
devil.
And
so the Church, following in her Lord’s footsteps, has always seen it as a
priority to alleviate suffering however possible. The Church prays for healing and provides
sacraments for the sick; she is also the mother of the hospital, of the modern
medical profession, the nursing profession, and of the idea of “health care.”
At various times the Church is blessed with persons who have the charism of
supernatural healing, and in fact recently there has been an outbreak of thisgift among Catholics involved in street evangelism.
But
in the context of this Mass, we are invited to remember that the worst kind of
suffering and sickness is soul sickness, which is the result of sin. And Jesus still goes around touching us, even
physically, through the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist and
Reconciliation, both of which have healing power. If we are willing to let go
our tight grasp of our sins, Jesus will take them away and return us to “Eden”,
a state of sinlessness and freedom from the domination of Satan. The Sacrament of Reconciliation, which Fr.
Gabrielle Amorth (former chief exorcist of the Diocese of Rome) used to affirm
as “the best exorcism,” is especially powerful in that regard. Let’s get to confession this weekend, and
then receive the Eucharist in a state of grace, so that we can experience the
healing power of Jesus in our lives today.
1 comment:
I truly enjoy your posts on the Sunday readings. You have such a nice way of combining scholarly insight with practical application!
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