Year B

Jan 27 2025

How Much Are You Worth?

Think about this: somebody offers you a hundred dollars to watch over a dozen sheep for one night. Then a wolf slinks by. He intends to devour you. Would you keep that hundred dollars or would you abandon the cash and run away and not get eaten? Would you chance it for two hundred dollars? How about a thousand? How much are you worth? How much are those sheep worth to you?

I cooked two lamb chops for dinner. On the label, they cost $8.51. They had a lot of fat, which I gave to the dog. Heike doesn’t exactly look like a wolf, but he’s got the focused crouch of a border collie that says “Don’t mess with me” after I put meat in his dish. How much is my right hand worth?

In the midst of sautéing and determining the monetary value of sheep and feeding the dog, I wonder about the surprising turn in today’s Gospel. Jesus first describes the hired help who abandon the sheep. Then he suddenly switches to laying down his life. Where did that thought come from? Were there Jewish folk tales about the heroic love of the lone shepherd on the hillside who died defending his sheep from a pack of hungry wolves? If so, how much were those sheep worth?

The Gospel account seems to assume that we know those background stories, for Jesus presses on to talk about voluntarily laying down his own life for us, as that brave shepherd would lay down his life for his sheep. Why? He knows us. He looks at us as more than lamb chops. He cares for our welfare. Like the hero on the hillside, he is the Good Shepherd, willing to die—for us. If that is the case, then how much are we worth?

Consider/Discuss

Sometimes we place a monetary value on people: how much return on investment do you get from gaining a dozen more paying customers; what is the corporate value of an increased retention of employees; how can we alter the message to gain more voters . . . the list goes on. This monetization is needed to gauge effectiveness in each of those respective disciplines. But how can we avoid the temptation to look at people as numbers? What worth does God put on a human life?
The bond between sheep and shepherd can feel a little distant to those unfamiliar with herding. What if we altered the story to speak of one’s small children or little nieces and nephews? How much money could someone pay you to save their lives? Would you run away when they were in danger? How much are they worth?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, Good Shepherd, we think that we are worth something. We may even boast of our importance. But we have no idea of the inestimable value that you place on us. Our wildest imaginings of our own worth are only a drop of water compared to the ocean of what you see that we are worth. Can this be? Do we matter so much? Do we matter so much to you? Do we matter so much to you that you would die to defend us? All we can do, Lord, is fall to our knees in amazement. Thank you!

Jan 27 2025

Scripture Study for

This week’s first reading continues from last week. After Peter has declared that the lame man was healed through the power of Jesus, the religious leaders have Peter and John arrested for teaching and proclaiming resurrection of the dead in Jesus (4:1–3). Now they question Peter, who responds by ironically wondering aloud that he and John have been dragged before the authorities for doing a good deed, a point that highlights the parallel between the apostles and Jesus himself, who was also interrogated after doing good deeds. Peter then repeats that it was in the name of Jesus that the man was healed. All salvation (healing, forgiveness, well-being, deliverance) comes only through Jesus.

In his First Letter, John has been exhorting his audience to follow God’s commandments. He has also assured them that if they do sin, yet “abide in Christ,” they will be saved because in Christ believers have been made children of God. The world, that is, that aspect of human society that is opposed to God, does not recognize this great dignity in Christians, and Christians themselves may have difficulty recognizing their own status as God’s children. Just as a human child is like the parents and also the siblings, so children of God are growing into the likeness of God and of Christ. This reality is still obscure, but one day this perception will become clear, and then Christians will see more clearly who they themselves are, as children of God and siblings of Christ.

The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd has deep roots in the story of Israel. The metaphor of shepherd was standard for kings and religious leaders, who were expected to guide Israel in the ways of God, and thus protect them from spiritual and social harm. In Ezekiel, God accuses the shepherds not only of leaving the people at the mercy of the wolves, but of ravaging them themselves. In response, God promises to shepherd the people himself (34:1–31). Jesus, then, is taking up this divine role, to the point of even laying down his life for the sheep, rather than allow them to stray or suffer. Jesus also alludes to the fact that God’s flock is not confined to Israel, and that one of Jesus’ tasks is to unite all of God’s flock into one under his (Jesus’) care.

Jan 27 2025

Scripture Study for

The first reading, which features one of several kerygma-based speeches in Acts, follows the healing of a lame man by Peter and John, to the astonishment of onlookers. Peter responds by asking the crowd why they are so amazed, as if Peter and John themselves had performed the cure. No, he says, it was by faith in the name of Jesus that the man was healed. The healing, then, is proof of the truth of the proclamation Peter makes about Jesus. Peter also pointedly remarks that, although the people and their leaders acted out of ignorance in crucifying Jesus, they can no longer claim such ignorance. Just as Jesus announced the reign of God and called for repentance, so now Peter announces the Good News of Christ and calls for repentance.

The First Letter of John begins with an exhortation to accept the message that “God is light” and that only those who walk in the light have fellowship with God (1:5–6). To walk in the light means to turn away from sin and accept God’s forgiveness in Christ. Only those who fail to recognize their need for forgiveness can block this gracious action of God; all others can be assured not only of forgiveness, but that they have Jesus as their Advocate. There can be no greater assurance of being in fellowship with God. John emphasizes that living in fellowship with Christ is above all a practical matter. “Knowing” Christ means obeying his commandments, and obedience to Christ is the royal road to love of God.

Immediately before the present Gospel account, the disciples who encountered Jesus on the road to Emmaus returned to Jerusalem to tell their story to the Eleven (24:33). Now Jesus suddenly appears in their midst, greeting them with peace. Their terror at seeing what they think is a ghost reflects doubt in the possibility that Jesus has indeed been raised from the dead, hence his invitation to “touch me and see,” and the pointed statement that he ate, something ghosts do not do. The Gospel accounts agree that Jesus’ resurrection was physical, although they are equally clear that his is a transformed physicality. Now that Jesus’ work on earth has been done, it is time for his followers to preach both repentance and forgiveness, not just to Israel, but to “all the nations.”

Jan 27 2025

The Burning Joy of Jubilation

Jesus is risen! Joy, exultation, a grand hurrah! And resounding alleluias! The disciples running back to Jerusalem are jubilant! As they run, they shout to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us when we walked on the road with him?” Jesus is alive!

Teresa of Ávila, the mystic, felt that jubilation, too. In her autobiography, she described that an angel thrust a long spear, tipped with fire, into her heart. As the point was being drawn out, she was left all on fire with a great love of God. That painful but sweet caress of love left her in bliss for many days.

Do modern day folks ever feel that inner burning? I wonder . . . On occasion I’ve had a bad cough and my lungs felt like they were burning. But that is not it.

When something is deeply unjust, the heat of righteous indignation can fire up the gut to do something to make things right. But that is not it either.

What is this burning of jubilation?

A young man once shared with me that he had experienced that burning in his heart one time, as he watched his bride come up the aisle. Happiness and gratitude and love all rushed together to create a fiery jubilation inside.

A mother described the touch of the tiny fingers of the two-day old child who so recently had been inside of her. Her heart swelled with the warmth of jubilation.

A husband has talked of how his heart burned with joy when his wife came home from the hospital, healed. Gratitude and love and relief all flooded together into the jubilation of having more days together.

This burning of the heart in jubilation is the opposite of Good Friday’s burden of the heart in sorrow. It is a foretaste of heaven. Death is not life’s final answer. Jesus is risen! We too will be raised! God be praised!

Consider/Discuss

Some scholars suggest that the second of the disciples on the road to Emmaus is unnamed in order to allow us to be that traveler on the road. When have you been that disciple, and felt your heart burning with jubilation within you?
Resurrection is more glorious than we could ever imagine. Yet sometimes we allow ourselves to be satisfied with just a bland or dulled hope. How could we grow more fervent in living new life?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, we taste the sweetness of your blessed fire so rarely. Though the joys of heaven are never ending, maybe the reason that we don’t feel that more often is that we couldn’t handle more glory on a regular basis. But thank you for the moments when your joy breaks through into our lives. Thank you for love and friendship and the sharing of bread and the little touches of ways that you reveal to us the glory of heaven. Come, be with us now. Our hearts want to burn with your love.

Jan 27 2025

Mercy Breaks through Our Hardness

Imagine you are at the table that evening. Thomas has set his face like stone, “Um, yeah, and how exactly did Jesus come through the room’s rock wall last week when the door was locked? And how can you say that he just stood here among you? We all know that he died. We saw him. Not breathing. Water and blood flowed from his side where they stabbed him. Gone. Jesus is dead.” He wonders, “Whatever made me hang out with these guys anyway?”

Andrew is ecstatic. “No, he’s not dead! Alive! Yes, he stood right there, next to where you are sitting now. Jesus is alive! He breathed the Holy Spirit upon us. I feel different. I am not afraid. I am so excited.”

Thomas looks over at the sandstone wall and shakes his head. That doesn’t make any sense. Andrew, always the first to believe, the one who drags everybody else into things . . .

Peter knows what he saw. But he doesn’t know how to respond to Thomas’s disbelief. The big fisherman stands up and pounds on the rock of the wall. “He was here. I don’t know how he came through, but he was here. It was Jesus. Real. Real as you and me. He was looking for you. And he wanted to see the other one, too.” (Nobody would say aloud the name of Judas the betrayer.)

Nathaniel quietly lowers his cup from his lips and says, “But still . . . not the same, Peter; not the same; not the same as you and me. . . ” He thought back to the reviving of Martha’s brother Lazarus, and the smell. “It is different. Lazarus came back with the same body he had before. Jesus was entirely and totally changed, as though his body were a new material. It is hard to describe. Thomas, you just had to be here.”

And then suddenly, there he was.

Consider/Discuss

The hardness of the stone wall did not stop Jesus. The hardness in Thomas’ heart did not stop Jesus. Our own hardness does not stop Jesus. His divine mercy is greater than any hardness. His divine presence is greater than our disbelief. How do we too call out, “My Lord and my God!” when we have been shown mercy?
The apostles lived closely with each other when they walked with Jesus. He was the glue for their camaraderie. When he was no longer there—he who had held them together—it was gone. What happened to their unity? What happens to the unity of the people of God today, if/when Jesus is no longer the center of our connectedness?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, you hear our wrangling about “what I believe” and “what I think” and “what group I belong to.” There is the blaring noise of those who yell at us to believe. There is the mocking noise of those who do not believe. So much hardness surrounds Christianity. And then . . . you come through the wall. You tenderly tap us on the shoulder and say, “I am here.” You show up in our lives when we least expect. Help us to refocus on you, for you come through walls in every age.