Year B

Jan 27 2025

This Is the Day—to Take a Chance

Jesus seemed to be a failure. He came to his hometown. They had heard about his miracles. They wanted him to be a local sensation. But he only did a couple of healings. To their faithless eyes, he looked like he might be a failure.

St. Paul likewise seemed to be a failure. He wrote that he had a thorn in his flesh and prayed three times for it to go away. Yet God did not take it away. Did Paul not have enough faith? At first glance, that might seem to have been the case.

Today, Christianity may look like a failure. There are fewer avowed Christians in Europe and a growing number for whom it doesn’t matter in the U.S. Jesus is a prophet without honor in our society.

You and I, we might be in a time of failure, too. A relationship may have crashed. A job may have bombed. An institution that we trusted has revealed its brokenness.

What are we to do with failure? It can bring us low. Failure hurts. Let us not be afraid to wrestle with God about that. The core of our faith is the cross. Hanging on that wood, Jesus was an utter failure. The cross hurt.

Then God did something completely new and raised Jesus from the dead. Who expected that?

Through the Resurrection, God transforms failure into hope— hope that our shortcomings will be redeemed, hope that what is dead will live again; hope that God will re-create all things afresh.

For God defines success differently. Like a perpetual inventor, God risks new things. Every time a baby is conceived, God tries again. Ninety-nine percent of the species that have ever lived on this earth are now extinct. The Creator tries again.

When we are low, the Holy Spirit tugs at our hearts to strengthen our hope. We too can try again. What did Paul hear in prayer? “My grace is sufficient for you.” History is long. God is continually at work.

Consider/Discuss

Jesus was not afraid to be innovative. He lived in a risky way. The living God was willing to die on the cross. Sometimes we are afraid to try something to which God calls us because it is risky, because we might fail. How many God-inspired opportunities do we miss because of our fear? How could we flex our risk-muscles today?
What troubles come when we are too successful? Throughout history, when Christianity looked like it was “winning,” power tainted the practice of faith. What if Jesus had allowed the people to make him their king? Imagine how the history of the world would have been different if Jesus had “succeeded” instead of “failed.” Where would we be today?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord God of all creation, it feels as though we are in a season of failure in the Church in the Western world. We have moved away from a time of success, when there were many cultural supports for Christianity. Thank you for this “failure.” Thank you for shaking us out of business as usual. Jesus our Savior, you are still very real. You are still here. You know the broad sweep of history. You yourself have seen what can arise from failure. Holy Spirit, come! Come to us! Grant us new ardor and new ways to proclaim the time-tested gospel. Purify us to live wholly for you, today, this day, for this is your day, when you make all things new.

Jan 27 2025

Scripture Study for

The reading from Ezekiel occurs in a vision of the divine glory, in which he is told to speak to Israel, now undergoing hardship at the hand of Babylon. The prophet is sent to the people to proclaim to them what God is doing and why. Yet God knows that the people will not listen to Ezekiel, because they, like their ancestors, are rebellious. Nevertheless, the prophet is sent to speak God’s word, which must be proclaimed regardless of the people’s willingness to hear it. The proclamation of God’s word is not dependent on whether it will be heard or not; it is God’s word to the people, and therefore must be spoken.

Toward the end of his letter to the Corinthians, Paul “boasts of the things that show my weakness” (11:30). Although he has himself had “an abundance of revelations,” he also knows himself to be profoundly weak, as evidenced by whatever it is he calls the “thorn in the flesh.” Christ allows this thorn to remain, despite the fact that it is “an angel of Satan,” to prevent Paul from falling into the trap of relying on himself rather than on Christ. It is a great paradox that acknowledging weakness, and the hardships and struggles this entails, allows believers to let the power of Christ work in them, making them strong (because they realize that it is not in fact their strength, but Christ’s).

In last week’s Gospel, when Jesus brought to life the daughter of Jairus, the people had ridiculed him, an expression of their lack of faith. Here again Jesus encounters a want of faith in his hometown. Although they acknowledge the wisdom of his teaching and the reality of his “mighty deeds,” the people can only see Jesus as just a local boy. The “offense” they take at him may indicate a sense that he is trying to “rise above his station.” Their disbelief, grounded in their own idea of what is proper or possible, is self-fulfilling, in that it prevents Jesus from bringing to bear in their lives the full power of God.

Jan 27 2025

Answering the Invitation

It came early that day. She was weary of it—the constant flow of blood, draining her of strength, setting her apart from life. She could still hear the singing from the wedding last night. Her niece . . . She buried her head into her elbow and wept so hard that her stomach hurt. Her brother’s child . . . Just a baby when she—the unclean one—had last been allowed to hold her, now married. All those years . . . She would just spend the day lying on her mat. Again.

And yet . . . a beckoning within her said, “Get up.”

No. The wedding reawakened the other memory, the newborn in her arms . . . the boy, if he had lived, who would also be old enough to wed . . . and the bleeding they couldn’t stop at his birth. Still cannot stop. No, she would stay here.

And yet . . . she had heard it yesterday. “The healer is coming.” She tried not to let hope arise within her. “If only . . .” She had thought it every time she had tried a new physician. And they had only made it worse. No, not again.

And yet . . . maybe this time? She had heard of the demoniac being healed on the other side of the lake.

“If only . . .” The voice of reason said, “No, you can’t go out there. You are unclean.” But the song from the wedding echoed within her: “The Lord is my strength and song . . . , and he has become my salvation.”

The urge in her heart grew into an overwhelming ache in her stomach: “Oh, God, please . . .” Why was she saying yes to this? She wove through the crowds, hidden beneath her mother’s scarf, glad to be small. Her mouth mumbled, “If only I could touch him.” She knew no man could touch her. “If only I could touch the hem of his garment.”

And then . . . she did.

Consider/Discuss

The woman with the hemorrhage was set apart through no fault of her own. Her pain is the pain of all of those on the “outside.” Injustice like this should unsettle us. Some who are reading this are on the outside, hurting. Others are on the inside, singing and dancing at the wedding, unaware of those who are distanced. (Some may be in both places at different times.) How can the Holy Spirit awaken our awareness of “the other” so that we live with greater compassion?
Faith is not a psychological trait that we manufacture within ourselves. God is the source of faith. Faith is first a gift, a (sometimes subconscious) movement of the Holy Spirit rising within us. That inner beckoning becomes a dance of call and response between us and our Creator, as the woman in the story experienced. Faith grows as our yes responses grow. Faith shrinks as our no replies compound. What about today? In the grace of God, to which of these will we say yes today—the urges toward fear, doubt, and despair, or the beckoning toward faith and hope?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you looked Jairus in the eye and whispered, “Just have faith.” You did not sling that phrase at him like a slogan, but you offered him an invitation to look into your eyes and trust you. Look us in the eye also, especially when we are hurting. Help us to whisper yes back to you. Deep inside us, stir the enthusiasm of your presence, here, now. Help this to become a summer to give you our yes. Thank you for your healing tenderness.

Jan 27 2025

Scripture Study for

In the book of Wisdom we see the fruit of centuries of reflection on the meaning of the first chapters of Genesis. Wisdom insists that in God’s original plan humans were immortal; this is, at least in part, what it means to say that they were created in God’s image (Genesis 1:27). It was only because of the machinations of the snake, now identified as the devil, that humans experience death. But this is certainly not what God, who is resolutely opposed to death, wants for humans. The larger point of the Wisdom passage is to warn people to be faithful to God and thus not to “court death by your erring way of life” (1:12).

In his letter the Corinthians, Paul now turns to his collection for the Christians in Jerusalem. He challenges them—who “excel in every respect”—to excel in giving also. Here they should look to the example of Christ, from whose generosity they have been enriched. One way to show their gratitude is to share other forms of “riches” with the struggling church in Jerusalem. He seals this appeal with a reference to Exodus (16:18), which refers to the distribution of manna in the wilderness. The point is clear: any abundance the Corinthians enjoy is a gift from God, which is meant to be shared equally by all of God’s people.

In both stories of the longer form of the Lectionary reading, the role of faith—trust in Jesus’ will and ability to save—is central. The woman believes quite simply that if she touches Jesus’ clothes, that will be enough to cure her. Jairus approaches Jesus with absolute confidence that by laying his hands on his daughter, Jesus will save her from death. Most notable about both of them is the fact that neither hesitates or hedges. Neither says, “If you can,” or “If he will,” or gives any other expression that would serve to prepare prepare them to be disappointed if Jesus refuses or somehow fails to save.

Jan 27 2025

From Fear to Floundering to Faith

When I was a little girl, a picture in my children’s Bible depicted Jesus standing in the front of a boat with his arms sweeping high into the air. The sea has calmed. The disciples look relaxed and happy. All is good.

But I used to wonder, even as a little child—in the middle of the storm, how did Jesus get to the front of the boat? In the beginning, he slept in the stern. In the end, he stood majestically in the prow. How did he wrestle his way from the back to the front as the waves tossed the boat?

The picture suggests fear in the back, faith in the front . . . ? But wait! Right in the middle of this story, between fear and faith, is this moment of floundering.

Sometimes we want to skip that floundering part. Why? Maybe because once we are adults, we are not supposed to flounder? But we do flounder. We have moments of helplessness. In times of trouble, we may accuse God of “not caring.”

Jesus asks, “Do you not yet have faith?” Maybe that is an accurate observation. The disciples do not yet have faith. Yet Jesus helps them just as they are. He doesn’t ask them to believe based on nothing; he is willing to show them. He has changed water into wine. He has made a blind man see. He now calms the waves.

It is in their floundering that they find faith. They discover an inner certainty, a deep assurance, a faith in the One who keeps showing them someone to believe in.

Perhaps the picture in my storybook was wrong. Maybe Jesus lifted his head slightly, stilled the sea, and went back to sleep. Who knows? Either way, the disciples swelled with amazement and awe: “Who is this whom even wind and sea obey?”

Consider/Discuss

Much of life is lived between total fear and total faith, often in floundering with high winds and rough waves. The possibility of drowning is terrifying. The waves could pull us under. Why can’t we smoothly slip past the floundering of this story? How has the Lord calmed the seas for you, kept you from sinking into the deep?
We are not alone in floundering. Peter put his foot in his mouth more than once. Moses told God to go find somebody else. The prophet Jeremiah said, “Nah, I’m too young.” Even one of Thomas Merton’s most famous prayers begins by telling God that he (Merton) has no idea where he’s going. How have you experienced God taking you as you are and lifting you to something greater? How can we do that for others?

Living and Praying with the Word

Thank you for giving us fortitude when we have no courage left. Thank you for your helping hand that seems to come out of nowhere to lift us up. Thank you for your unexpected calm when the world swirls in chaos around us. Thank you for that invisible help that we name “grace.” Thank you for the assurance that we can make it through the storms because we are not alone in the boat.