Made perfect in him

Jesus said to his disciples:

 ‘Do not imagine that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets.

I have come not to abolish them but to complete them.

 I tell you solemnly, till heaven and earth disappear, not one dot, one little stroke,

shall disappear from the Law until its purpose is achieved.

Matthew 5:17f

Welcome back to a new school year, and in particular those who join our faith and learning community for the first time.

There are public servants whose role it is to comb through old and not so old legislation that needs to be reviewed, updated, repealed or once expired removed from the statute books. It’s a reflection of the changing needs of the community in which we live. Even the law cannot remain static, it is not immutable. The law is dynamic, it responds to whatever concerns are paramount at a given time. We’ve had to accommodate automobiles on our roads, insisted on helmets for cyclists, defended the disabled, legalized abortion, protected great swathes of ancient rainforest. On the other hand, just because we have legislated, of course doesn’t mean the legislation is supported by the entire population, and that it reflects some moral superiority. It doesn’t.

From Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount we hear of Jesus’ affirmation of the validity of the (Mosaic) Law. For the Jews the Law possessed a sacredness which was seen as a sacramental assurance of good relationship with God. The greater the fidelity and attentiveness to the Law, the closer the relationship. Jesus provokes his listeners by suggesting – quite contrarily – that while he had no intention of changing the Law – that the Law was not perfect. Indeed, it was to be him who would bring it to perfection, to fulfillment.

Once, the Christian life for Catholics was governed by a myriad of laws and customs, many of which fell away or at least fell into disuse following the Second Vatican Council (1962 – 1965) and many of its mores challenged by the apparent and surprising populist rejection of Paul VI’s Humanae vitae in 1968. The modern Catholic wants to make sense of the rules, many find the exclusion of divorcés from the Eucharistic table and the often painful indissolubility of marriage the final chapter of their membership of the church.

We have returned to the scriptures and to the sacred stories and learnings of the earliest Christian communities and we continue to explore what it means to be a Christian in the modern world, what it means to be faithful – but constantly and deeply aware that it is in Jesus that our lives, our world and hope are made perfect in him.

Peter Douglas

To know thee more clearly

by Richard Rohr OFM

Sunday, February 9, 2020 

O most merciful Redeemer, Friend and Brother, May I know Thee more clearly,
Love Thee more dearly, And follow Thee more nearly. 

—St. Richard, Bishop of Chichester (1197–1253) [1] 

Ways of knowing are inseparable from human existence. As Paula D’Arcy says, “God comes to us disguised as our lives.” While Christians emphasize Tradition and/or Scripture as sources of truth, I believe we balance them with our own experiences. We can only know God and reality within the context of our own personal experiences of time, place, culture, class, education, etc. There are as many ways of knowing as there are people who have lived!  

This week we pay attention to the wisdom of those “on the bottom.” Throughout history, some people have assumed unearned privileged, most often  by denying the inherent God-given dignity of others. Christians and so-called Christian nations have been and continue to be responsible for this violence just as much as other religions and societies. Why do we continue to get it so wrong when Jesus told us that loving God and our neighbour are the first commandments (see Matthew 22:34-40)? His teachings turned power on its head: the last will be first and the first will be last, Jesus reminded us (see Matthew 20:16).  

How we know and what we know are shaped by our experience. Speaking for myself, it is clear that my privilege as a white, formally educated, financially secure man (even though I am a Franciscan) influences what I see and how I understand it. My privilege also limits my perspective in many ways. While I didn’t choose to “have” while others “have not,” if I’m not actively working toward equity, even my passive participation enables systems of inequality and injustice. Jesus continually invites me to see differently by encountering and engaging with those on the bottom.  

The system benefitting me was never intended to benefit all. And because the system benefits me, I don’t need to see it clearly. On the other hand, those who do not receive its benefits are required to see it for their very survival. Thus, God calls us to “not conform to the pattern of the world but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds” through relationship with those who see life from a different perspective than we do (see Romans 12:2).   

This week’s meditations will introduce some other ways of knowing the Gospel which are grounded in the experiences of people who have been marginalized in some way. As I share the work of these writers, keep in mind: 

1.    Injustice results from systems, structures, and institutions more than individual choices and actions.  

2.    Each person has a unique story, so no single individual can represent an entire group.  

3.    Be aware that oppression, like the ego, shape-shifts and is hard to pin down. It will always find a new manifestation. 

4.    Each created being is made in God’s image; and this God is love. 

As we journey together, be patient with the messages and yourself. Simply notice and observe reactions rather than resist or judge them. Expanding our perspective moves us out of comfort zones, so this may be an important time to practice some form of contemplative prayer or meditation.  

Reference:
[1] Attributed to St. Richard of Chichester in The Churchman’s Prayer Manual, G. R. Bullock-Webster (London: 1913), 31.