The Second
Sunday of OT is one of those “unofficial” feast days in the Church’s calendar,
which aren’t given a name, but due to the Readings that always occur on them,
have a unique and particular character to them.
The Second Sunday of OT might be called “Afterglow Sunday,” and every
third year it is the “Feast of the Wedding at Cana.”
Why is this? The Readings for the Second
Sunday of Ordinary Time this year are like a “holy hangover” from the Feasts of
Epiphany and Baptism that we celebrated last week. Traditionally, three events of our Lord’s
life have been celebrated clumped together around January 6, between the
Christmas season and the transition to ordinary time. These are the arrival of the magi (Epiphany),
the Baptism, and the Wedding at Cana.
These are the three events in the various Gospels that “manifest” or
show forth Jesus’ glory at the beginning of his life or career: the Magi in
Matthew, the Baptism in Mark and Luke, and the Wedding at Cana in John.
In the modern lectionary, the Sunday after
the Baptism is always devoted to the events immediately after the Baptism as
recorded in John 1:29–2:11. The most
dramatic of these events, the Wedding at Cana, is read only in Year C. This is Year A, and following the Feast of
the Baptism last Sunday, we now read the reflection on the momentous event from
the mouth of John the Baptist, as recorded in the Gospel of John. The Readings for this Mass focus on the role
of Jesus as God’s definitive Servant, come to show the glory and salvation of
God to the whole world.
The LORD said to me: You are my servant,
Israel, through whom I show my glory.
Now the LORD has spoken
who formed me as his servant from the womb,
that Jacob may be brought back to him
and Israel gathered to him;
and I am made glorious in the sight of the LORD,
and my God is now my strength!
It is too little, the LORD says, for you to be my servant,
to raise up the tribes of Jacob,
and restore the survivors of Israel;
I will make you a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.
Israel, through whom I show my glory.
Now the LORD has spoken
who formed me as his servant from the womb,
that Jacob may be brought back to him
and Israel gathered to him;
and I am made glorious in the sight of the LORD,
and my God is now my strength!
It is too little, the LORD says, for you to be my servant,
to raise up the tribes of Jacob,
and restore the survivors of Israel;
I will make you a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.
By some
scholars’ reckoning, Isaiah 49:1-13 (from which we read excerpts) is the fifth
of the famous “servant songs” of Isaiah.
These songs are poetic compositions that describe the role and the
attributes of a mysterious character identified only as the “servant of the
LORD.” All the servant songs are in the
second half of Isaiah (Is 40-66), and there have been a few of them already in
Isaiah 40–48. Now, in Isaiah 49, for the first time, the “servant of the LORD”
himself speaks (49:1-4), recounting the words of the LORD by which the LORD
commissioned him. Although his efforts
seem in vain, their ultimate success is guaranteed by the LORD (v. 4) who has
formed the servant in order to “gather Israel to him” (v. 5) and also spread
His salvation to all the “nations,” the “ends of the earth” (vv. 5-6). The servant is “deeply despised, abhorred by
the nations,” but ultimately will receive the homage of the kings of the earth
(v. 7). The LORD reiterates the
servant’s mission as a “covenant to the people” (v. 8), and, like Moses of old,
he will have a primary role in releasing the people from bondage, leading them
through the desert with provision of food and drink, and apportioning the land
(vv.8-13).
In the
verses of this song that we read in Mass, we can see that the Servant is, on
the one hand, called “Israel.” Yet, he
cannot simply be a personification of the nation of Israel, because he is sent
to “bring back Israel and gather Jacob,” to “raise up the tribes of
Jacob.” How can it be that the same
figure is called “Israel” and yet is sent to restore Israel? This only works if the servant is a
representative figure—either the king or the high priest, or perhaps both. In the ancient world, kingship was sacred,
and the king embodied the people. This
attitude was reflected as recently as the early modern period, during the age
of absolute monarchy, when Louis XIV of France (the “Sun King”) famously said,
“L’etat, c’est moi,” “The state, it is
me!” That was a bold claim in Louis
XIV’s day, but in the ancient Near East, that was true of virtually every king
and kingdom. The king was the
state. In the case of Israel, the son of
David was the nation. He was
Israel. The “servant of the LORD” in
Isaiah is a royal figure, and reading the book canonically, we can figure out
that he is the Son of David promised in chapters 9 and 11.
The
servant is “Israel, through whom I show my glory,” picking up the glory theme
that is so prevalent in the aftermath of Epiphany. But the servant is also sent as the savior of
the world, “so that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” We see this reflected in the preaching of
John the Baptist. John looks
suspiciously like an Essene who was kicked out of the order, because the Jewish
historian Josephus records similar excommunicated persons living off the land
in the wilderness. (See discussion in my new book, Jesus and the Dead Sea
Scrolls: Revealing the Jewish Roots of Christianity [Penguin Random House,
2019]).
Why would John have been kicked
out of the Essenes? One possibility is
that he wanted to take the good news to the Gentiles. We see John preaching to Roman soldiers in Luke,
for example. The Essenes had no use for
Gentiles, even though the prophets of Israel foresaw salvation being offered to
them. Maybe John became convicted in his
heart from reading Isaiah that God wanted to save the Gentiles. That became a point of contention with the
rest of the Essenes, and they expelled him from their community at Qumran.
Jesus is
the Isaianic servant who comes with salvation for the nations. There is no other savior besides him. We may have respect for other great moral
teachers and founders of religion who have graced the history of civilization:
Confucius, Zoroaster, Buddha, Socrates, Ghandi.
But none of them taught the morality of self-sacrificial love like
Jesus, none of them claimed to be divine, and none offered his life in atonement
for the sins of the world. Only he can
save us from our sins. The others, wise
though they were, can’t even correctly identify what our sins are, much
less save us from them.
P. The Responsorial
Psalm is Ps 40:2, 4, 7-8, 8-9, 10 :
R. (8a and 9a) Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I have waited, waited for the LORD,
and he stooped toward me and heard my cry.
And he put a new song into my mouth,
a hymn to our God.
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
Sacrifice or offering you wished not,
but ears open to obedience you gave me.
Holocausts or sin-offerings you sought not;
then said I, "Behold I come."
R. Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.
"In the written scroll it is prescribed for me,
to do your will, O my God, is my delight,
and your law is within my heart!"
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I announced your justice in the vast assembly;
I did not restrain my lips, as you, O LORD, know.
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I have waited, waited for the LORD,
and he stooped toward me and heard my cry.
And he put a new song into my mouth,
a hymn to our God.
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
Sacrifice or offering you wished not,
but ears open to obedience you gave me.
Holocausts or sin-offerings you sought not;
then said I, "Behold I come."
R. Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.
"In the written scroll it is prescribed for me,
to do your will, O my God, is my delight,
and your law is within my heart!"
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I announced your justice in the vast assembly;
I did not restrain my lips, as you, O LORD, know.
R. Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
This Psalm
echoes themes from our First Reading. It
is as if the Servant is also speaking here.
It is described as a Psalm of David, and the Isaianic servant is also a
royal Davidic figure, so there is a profound correlation.
David was
remembered in Israel’s history for the intensity of his relationship with the
LORD, an intensity captured in the deeply personal and emotional language of so
many of the psalms. David uses strong
language to emphasize that merely going through the formalities of worship does
not satisfy God’s will for us:
Sacrifice or offering you wished not,
but ears open to obedience you gave me.
Holocausts or sin-offerings you sought not;
then said I, “Behold I come.”
but ears open to obedience you gave me.
Holocausts or sin-offerings you sought not;
then said I, “Behold I come.”
The words
are not to be taken strictly literally—both Samuel and David worshipped God in
the public liturgy and offered sacrifices as prescribed by Moses. But external worship is not pleasing without
the interior and personal consent of our will.
Obedience to God’s will, the embrace of his purpose for our life—these
are fundamental:
To do your will, O my God, is my delight,
and your law is within my heart!
and your law is within my heart!
This verse
dispels instantly the false notions of God’s law that are so prevalent in
Church and society nowadays. God’s law
is often falsely contrasted with faith, such that the two seem in
opposition. If anyone speaks up in
defense of the moral law of God, or stresses the need to follow it, that person
is labeled a “Pharisee,” some kind of religious sociopath who gets delight in
telling others what they ought not to do.
So parents, teachers, and priests are afraid to talk about morality and
the ten commandments, because even high figures and leaders of the Church
appear to promote a view of God which separates love and faith from obedience
to the law.
How
different was David’s experience of God’s law!
For him, the law of God was delightful, like a path of safety marked out
before him in the treacherous terrain of this world. God’s law taught David what was truly
helpful, healthy, and good, so he could see it clearly and desire it. For David, God’s law was the path of love: it
showed him clearly how he could express and maintain his love toward God. So David writes, “To do your will is my
delight! Your law is within my heart!”
How
wonderful it would be if Christians today were to rediscover that God’s law, in
all its expressions, is an expression of his love and a pathway to love for
him! Sin is never loving or
helpful. It may appear to be sometimes,
but it is an illusion, a mirage. Furthermore,
God’s mercy does not simply condone our sin, and then leave us in it. God’s mercy empowers us to leave a
life of sin and walk in God’s ways, which are pleasant, wholesome, and
just. God’s law provides us the
parameters and instructions for entering into and maintaining a relationship of
intimacy with him. That is why David
connects God’s law with the heart: “your law is within my heart!” In so saying, David anticipates the New
Covenant, where God’s law will be written on the heart through the Holy
Spirit. So Jeremiah says “this is the
covenant which I will make … after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law
within them, and I will write it up their hearts.”
However, the fact that the
law is written on the heart and not on tablets of stone
emphatically does not mean that it is less demanding! Far from it!
Let us read the Sermon on the Mount and ponder: again and again Jesus
emphasizes that the law of the new covenant, the law of love written on the
heart, goes beyond what was written on the tablets of stone. The stone tablets forbade murder, but the law
of the heart forbids even insults. The
stone tablets forbade adultery, but the law of the heart forbids even lustful
glances.
We believe
that the law is written on our hearts through
the gift of the Holy Spirit in Baptism and Confirmation. St. Paul mentions the sanctifying effects of
these sacraments in the Second Reading:
Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of
God,
and Sosthenes our brother,
to the church of God that is in Corinth,
to you who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy,
with all those everywhere who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father
and the Lord Jesus Christ.
and Sosthenes our brother,
to the church of God that is in Corinth,
to you who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy,
with all those everywhere who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father
and the Lord Jesus Christ.
St. Paul
speaks of the Christians at Corinth as having been “sanctified” in Christ
Jesus, and “called to be holy.” This is
the principle re-articulated at Vatican II that we refer to as “the universal
call to holiness.” Prior to Vatican II,
there was confusion, at least at the level of common Catholic culture, about
whether holiness was even possible for people who did not enter the religious
life. The common understanding was that,
if you married and raised a family, you would never reach sanctity (unless you
entered the religious state in your old age!).
This was never official taught by the Church, however, and many saints
had spoken against it—notably St. Francis de Sales, but surely many others.
Vatican II
re-emphasized that all Christians are called to holiness by their baptism. All are called to strive to become
canonizable saints. It is not hubris to
make this our goal: nothing less befits our baptismal calling.
In light
of this, it is a shame that in contemporary discourse in the Church, there
seems to be a reversion to pre-Vatican II ideas, and an unwillingness to
challenge the laity—and sometimes even the clergy—to lead holy lives. The attitude among many seems to be that even
basic sexual morality—such as reserving sexual relations for marriage,
and then only within marriage—are “superhuman” goals suitable only for a
few very devout persons. Of course, this
is not true. In previous generations and
in other cultures today, even persons outside the Church have practiced
basic sexual morality, as well as many other human virtues. To observe external sexual morals does not
even require the gift of the Holy Spirit. What we expect of the “average Catholic” is so
far below what is possible through the Holy Spirit! Moreover, we must remember that holiness
correlates with true happiness. Holiness
is not a restraint that prevents us from having fun, but a dynamic freedom that
enables us to love in a profuse way, to love like God loves.
John the Baptist saw Jesus coming toward him and said,
“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
He is the one of whom I said,
‘A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me
because he existed before me.’
I did not know him,
but the reason why I came baptizing with water
was that he might be made known to Israel.”
John testified further, saying,
“I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven
and remain upon him.
I did not know him,
but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me,
‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain,
he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’
Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”
“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
He is the one of whom I said,
‘A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me
because he existed before me.’
I did not know him,
but the reason why I came baptizing with water
was that he might be made known to Israel.”
John testified further, saying,
“I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven
and remain upon him.
I did not know him,
but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me,
‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain,
he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’
Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”
Jesus
comes “to take away the sin of the world,” not just “to take away the punishment
for the sin of the world.” Jesus comes
to give us the power not to sin (1 John 3:5-6).
Sin itself is hell. Sin is
turning away from God, and separation from God is hell. There is no saving from hell that is not also
saving from sin. To be saved from hell
but to keep on sinning is an oxymoron. One can’t be in God’s presence (Heaven) while
continually choosing not-God (Hell). Thus, we can’t be content with sinful
habits. We have to let the Spirit in us
drive them out, and seek the help of the sacraments.
The
spirit came down and “remained on him.”
This calls to mind the anointing of David in 1 Sam 16, on whom the Spirit
came mightily “from that day forward” (v. 13), in other words, it remained on
him. The Spirit coming down and
remaining on Jesus marks him out as the heir of David. John the Baptist, the prophet, plays the role
of Samuel, who anointed the first David.
This Gospel announces Jesus as the fulfillment of Isaiah’s vision of the
Davidic royal servant, the one who is “Israel.”
Just as Israel washed in the waters of the Jordan symbolically when they
crossed into the promised land under the first Joshua (Y’shua, Jesus), so this
second Joshua (Y’shua, Jesus) comes to enter the Jordan once more, and lead us
all to the promised land of heaven. This
is done primarily through baptism, in which we, as Christians, are given the
gift of the Holy Spirit, which gives us power to become children of God, and to
live lives of holiness, not continual defeat.
Of
course, concupiscence in us (sometimes called ‘the flesh’ in the New Testament)
resists the workings of the Holy Spirit.
Sometimes we have to struggle to put down that resistance. The means remain the same through the
centuries: prayer, self-denial (mortification), the sacraments (especially
confession), and the support of the Christian community (pastors, fellow
Christians, ecclesial movements, sometimes specialized counselors). These means God, in his goodness, provides to
us in order that we may learn docility to the Spirit and the holiness (and
happiness!) of a life lead by Him.
*****
Want to see the place where Jesus was baptized, and the ruins of the monastery where John the Baptist may have been raised? I'm going June 14-23 of this year! All day, every day I'll be teaching on site in Israel as we travel around together, praying and worshiping at the Holy Sites! I'd love to have you join me. We got a second bus and now have room for late registrations—information is here: www.JohnBergsma.com/pilgrimage
*****
Want to see the place where Jesus was baptized, and the ruins of the monastery where John the Baptist may have been raised? I'm going June 14-23 of this year! All day, every day I'll be teaching on site in Israel as we travel around together, praying and worshiping at the Holy Sites! I'd love to have you join me. We got a second bus and now have room for late registrations—information is here: www.JohnBergsma.com/pilgrimage
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