Year B

Jan 24 2025

The Cross: A Harvest of Life

When I taught first graders in religious education class, there was a simple test in the book. It said, “Jesus died because __________ .” The correct answer was “he loves us.” The first graders could spit out that answer. But they looked at me with questions in their eyes, as in, “My mommy loves me; is she going to die, too?” They didn’t really get it. As Lent draws near to its close, I have been wrestling with the meaning of the cross, too. I can spit out that same answer, but I am not sure that I really get it either.

Still pondering the cross, I go out to the garage where my garlic is hanging. In early spring, winter-stored herbs and garden produce dream of becoming more than food. I have to watch carefully, for potatoes want to sprout eyes and onions hope to develop shoots. As I slice the garlic, I see little green centers that wish to become leaves.

Jesus knew that a grain of wheat also desires to get into the ground and grow. He uses that grain as an analogy for himself. But the gardener in me asks, does the wheat actually die?

I looked up the Greek word that Jesus uses here for “die.” This “die” does not mean to go out of existence. It means to be separated, apart from the realm where you have been. Jesus knows that the season has come for him to be separated. The Word who became flesh cannot stay in this earthly realm. He has to go. He prepares his friends for that. Like the wheat and the garlic in early spring, he gives himself away. I am still wrestling with that. But somehow and for some reason, Jesus is willing to become something more for us.

Consider/Discuss

What happens to Jesus’ grain of wheat and my garlic cloves if they don’t get eaten or go into the ground? They rot. Onions become shells of skins. Potatoes turn wrinkly and bluish with mold. Garlic gets soggy and soft and smells even worse. There comes a season when a plant is designed by nature to give itself away to nourish. What does that mean for us?
This most famous of Jeremiah’s passages says that God will write his law on our hearts and we will be God’s people and he will be our God. How does/ doesn’t Jesus’ self-sacrifice give you a stronger sense of belonging to God?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, when you were here on earth, you prayed with loud cries and tears to the one who was able to save you. Yet you were willing to offer yourself to the Father to become our Savior. That sort of blows my mind. I don’t understand it, but I thank you. Someday, when we are together, show me how much that cost you and what “because I love you” means.

Jan 24 2025

Scripture Study for

The first readings for Lent have focused on God’s covenant relationships, with all “mortal creatures,” with Abraham, and then with Israel. In the case of Israel, this relationship has often been marked by human infidelity and divine patience (not endless, but renewable). Now, as Israel enters into a period of judgment, God promises that the relationship has not come to an end. The covenant will be renewed, but this time things will be different: Israel will be transformed so as to be able to know, understand, and live according to God’s expectations. The judgment is not punishment for wrongdoing but is intended to prepare Israel for a new phase in its relationship with God, one that is the fruit of repentance, forgiveness, and transformation.

The reading from the Letter to the Hebrews moves us toward Palm Sunday by focusing on the obedience of Christ to the mission given by the Father to save God’s children from their sins. The passage is part of a larger discourse on the role of Christ as God’s great high priest (5:5–6). Just as the high priests of Aaron’s line offered sacrifice for Israel, so Christ offers himself in obedience to his mission. Besides the fact that Christ is God’s Son, his perfect obedience qualifies him as high priest, whose intercession on our behalf merits God’s hearing. In the same way, those who are obedient to Christ receive from him the salvation he has merited for all.

In response to the request of the Greeks (that is, Gentiles) to “see” him, Jesus makes the enigmatic statement that it is now the hour for the Son of Man to be glorified. He immediately identifies this “hour” with his approaching death, which itself will give life. In other words, the Gentiles along with everyone else will truly “see” Jesus when he undergoes his passion, death, and resurrection; they will know who he is. But Jesus does not speak only of his own death; he frames his saying about dying and giving life, or preserving eternal life, in terms of “whoever” is willing to undergo death. This death, like Jesus’ own, is a form (or consequence) of service to Christ.

Jan 24 2025

Born Again—from the Inside Out

Nicodemus, the Jewish leader, came to see Jesus at night. He wanted answers. But why did he prefer to come in the darkness and not in the light? Was he was concerned about his reputation, protecting his “street cred”?

Is that what we’re living for— “street cred” or the number of “likes” that we get? Does the number of our social media “followers” determine our worth? “Looking good” is what an older generation calls it. “Saving face” is critical to the politics of many nations.

We do need encouragement. Affirmation is necessary for human growth. But some positives can turn into compulsions. An institution can be overpowered by a fixation on safeguarding its reputation. You and I can be personally overwhelmed by the culture of applause.

A young man once talked to me about how he had gained “street cred” for looking like “a good Catholic boy” at a Catholic college. He got affirmation for attending Mass daily. It felt good. But the Holy Spirit asked him in prayer to start over, to shed that mere living for external approval that had birthed his persona, and to make it new from the inside. He began to focus on integrity, to be reborn from within—not just to look good, but to be good. It felt healthy to start afresh.

Maybe Nicodemus was weary of the posturing that swirled around him. Maybe he came to Jesus because he saw a refreshing grace. Jesus suggested to Nicodemus, “Start over, begin anew.” He extended a hand to help this Pharisee begin again, differently—to come out of the darkness and into the light.

What Jesus tells Nicodemus (and us) in John 3:16, that “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son,” isn’t just a placard to be displayed proudly at sporting events. By grace, we can start over. The Savior rescues us from living for the external applause of life, and rebirths us from within.

Consider/Discuss

We need affirmation to keep loving and giving and not to get discouraged. But what about the incessant pressures to “look good”? Can an addiction to applause and being liked throw us off balance? What happens to our self-worth when nobody claps? On the other hand, what can happen to our interior equilibrium if too many people applaud us? What kind of inner integrity does the Holy Spirit want to grow within us?
Where do we find the grace to “start over?” Grown-up life is no longer innocent. We have hurt others. We also have been hurt. We ought to be condemned for the deeds that we have done in darkness. When have you (or have you not) experienced Jesus’ hand of forgiveness as he says, “I do not come to condemn the world but to save it”?

Living and Praying with the Word

God of glory, you are fresh, you are new. There are times when this world wearies us with its posturing and demands. On this Lenten day, we turn to you for forgiveness and renewal. Give us the grace to begin again. Help us! As we close our eyes to seek you, the blessed light within, you even more are looking for us and drawing us to yourself. Holy Spirit, turn our hearts toward the goodness that is founded only on your love and your truth. Refresh us so we can be reborn anew this day.

Jan 24 2025

Scripture Study for

The first reading brings us to the period after the Exile, when newly-redeemed Israel looks back on its history. The author juxtaposes the continued infidelity of his people with the enduring commitment of God. Even before they entered the land, Israel turned away from their God and toward other deities, the “abominations of the nations.” God warned them of the consequences, but they did not listen, until finally they went into exile. Once again, God has shown mercy, bringing them back to the land and reestablishing the divine presence among them. Divine graciousness, human infidelity, judgment to bring the people back to God, forgiveness and restoration: this is the pattern of God’s dealings with the chosen people that we find throughout the Bible.

Paul emphasizes God’s graciousness and goodness, which has been shown not just to the Gentile Christians of Ephesus, but to the whole church. God is “rich in mercy,” has “great love for us,” “brought us to life with Christ,” has shown “the immeasurable riches of his grace in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus,” which is a “gift of God.” This is no grudging salvation Paul proclaims, but great-hearted goodness from a God who wants only to give life in place of death. All those who have been baptized into Christ now in some sense enjoy the full fruits of redemption; they are “seated . . . with [Christ] in the heavens.” This “realized eschatology,” which from the human perspective is yet to come, has in fact already been accomplished in Christ.

Again this week we see Jesus as the fulfillment of a “type” from the Old Testament. In this case, it is the bronze serpent that Moses had made to heal the Israelites (Numbers 21:4–9). The larger point Jesus makes to Nicodemus is that the love of God for the world is almost beyond belief: God has gone so far as to “give his only Son.” On the one hand, this gift is simply the Incarnation itself, which makes manifest on earth the glory, grace, and truth of God (1:14). On the other hand, this gift is the saving death of Christ. Sadly, it is not accepted by all because to accept is to open oneself to the “true Light” (1:9). As with many other instances in this Gospel, the presence of God in Christ forces a decision that one is unable to avoid making.

Jan 24 2025

That First Commandment? God Is Serious!

Do you remember your most embarrassing moment? The time you tripped and fell onstage during a play? How about the day you threw up in biology class?

Psychologists say that negative memory weighs heavily. Your great-aunt can say all kinds of nice things about you, but you still remember the day fifteen years ago when she said something critical. If you have/had loving and patient parents, you still probably remember the few times they absolutely blew up. If they were the enraged-all-the-time types, you probably wouldn’t remember that at all, for it was the norm.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus gets mad. Really mad. Turning over the tables in the temple must not have been his norm: all four Gospels have an account of Jesus driving out the money-changers. Years later, when his actions and his words were being recorded, they remembered this moment of fury and every one of them wrote it down. Jesus wanted better: “This is my Father’s house,” he cried. “Make it right!”

Could Jesus be both sinless and angry?

If we see someone mistreating a child, we get really hot inside. We want better. If we are treated as an object—as nothing, as worthless—fire burns within us. We want better. Moral theologians tell us that emotions carry no sin in and of themselves. What we do with our emotions—that is our moral responsibility. Injustice should make us angry. Indignation must move us to action.

Jesus wanted better. My mom once said to me, “God takes the first commandment very seriously.” When the Lord gave the Ten Commandments to Moses, he said, “You shall have no other gods besides me.” And meant it.

Consider/Discuss

When have you been angry about something that was not right? What did you do about it? Did you wish later that you had done something differently? How can we allow the Holy Spirit to direct our anger so that we do and/or say the right things, even in a moment of fury?
Jesus wanted his Father’s house to be a place of prayer, not a stinking location of commerce. How do we safeguard reverence for places of worship? How do we safeguard reverence for the people who frequent those places of worship? How do the two sometimes conflict?

Living and Praying with the Word

Here in the middle of Lent, Jesus, you again plead to make things right. You want this world to be just. You yourself experienced deep emotion. You know human nature by sharing in it. So you know that feelings can throw us off. You know what passion can do— positively and negatively. Help us to sort through all of that so that we do the right thing in each circumstance.