Homilies
Discipleship in Leadership
29th Sunday of Year B
(Mark 10:35-45)
October 18, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
In a culture that is characterized by inequality, people tend to think and accept as given that to be a leader always implies being at the top. And like any temptation that is often faced by giving in to it, very many people aspire to become leaders and thereby become second to none. In the political arena, many covet the position of president, governor, mayor and barangay captain. The dog-eat-dog competition among businessmen indicates the ambition to be number one in the business sector. That one sends his sons and daughters not to local schools but to London , Paris or New York reflects one’s belief that he must be ahead of others in terms of cultural achievement. In our present culture, no one probably wants to be the last in politics, business and culture. If one could have his way, he would like to make it to the top.
In today’s Gospel (Mark 10:25-45), the disciples of Jesus, who had yet to understand the meaning of Jesus’ teaching, showed the same secular values. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, had the same aspiration. They wanted to be ahead of the other disciples by asking Jesus to have them seated beside him, one on the left, the other on the right (Mark 10:37). Already in Mark 8:29, the disciples recognized that Jesus was the Messiah, and since they thought of his messiahship in political terms (cf Acts 1:6), their request was to be seated in a position of honor and power—this is what right and left hands means--which they would share with the Lord. They would be like two political supporters of a president-elect, wanting to be appointed Secretary of Finance and Secretary of Defense, as a reward for their work. Not only would they have the honor of sitting with the political messiah; they would also possess power, and imitate political rulers who lorded it over others (cf Mark 10:42)
Of course, one aspires to be number one not simply on account of the honor it confers on the one who sits on the throne. Political power is convertible to economic power. One is not so much interested in the salary, which is meager, but in the money involved that comes with the exercise of political power; unexplained wealth goes with it. He profits in almost all business transactions. Also, being at the top gives one the psychological satisfaction that he is a very important person. He enjoys bossing around, and making his importance felt. In fact, a man of secular values loves seeing other people at his beck and call, and depend on him for their needs and survival. It is really amusing when a secular man is put at the top: projects he has not done are credited to him, and words of wisdom he could not have uttered are ascribed to him. People around him laugh at his jokes, even if they are not really funny.
In a secular culture that stresses social differences and inequality, who would not want to be number one? On the other hand, to be at the last is to be reduced to a hewer of wood and carrier of water. To be at the bottom of the social ladder is to be ignorable and expendable. No wonder, the rest of the apostles, having learned of the request of James and John, became indignant at the two brothers (Mark 10:41). They are like so many of us who are so envious because we ourselves covet the position of honor and power, and we do not want others to outmaneuver us. That is why we hide anything that could help in their promotion, and we even resort to characterize assassination just to bring them down, and put them on our own level. We oppose them. And it is a psychological insight that one’s opposition is not always from moral motives, but from personal frustration that we were not able to achieve what others have gotten to their own honor and advantage.
In a Christian culture, however, this should not happen. This is not to say, however, that there should be no leader in the Christian community. Leadership can be, nay, must be exercised in a Christian ministry, but it cannot be exercised in the way secular leaders do. The leader cannot look at himself as above others, much less lord it over them. Jesus was emphatic on this: “You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them and their great ones make their authority felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant” (Mark 10:42b-43).
In this pericope, Jesus made three requirements for those who wish to assume the ministry of leadership, and those who are in positions of authority, in the Christian community. First of all, leadership is a call to share in the suffering of Jesus. They must drink the cup that Jesus drank, and be baptized with the baptism he was baptized with (Mark 10:39). If the members must suffer, so should the leader. This means that leaders are to be exposed to the hurt of others, carry their burdens, and even suffer their anguish, even if for many that is none of the leader’s business. They are to be baptized by putting themselves in conflict with evil powers (Eph 6:12) which oppress, discriminate against, and take advantage of the community members. Second, they assume the role of slaves in the service of others: “Whoever wishes to be first must be the slave of all” (Mark 10:44). Leaders cannot therefore exploit their members, or engaged themselves in seeking their own advantage or in self-aggrandizement. On the contrary, the quality of their leadership is to be seen in the amount of service that they render. Finally, leadership may even call for martyrdom: “For the Son of Man did not come gto be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Time comes when leadership demands that the leader himself willingly gives up his life for the sake of his people (1 Macc 2:50; 6:44); he dies for them (Isa 53:11-12, 1st Reading ).
Bartimaeus: Model of Discipleship
30th Sunday of Year B
(Mark 10:46-52)
October 25, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
At first blush, the Gospel would seem to be a miracle story. Luke tells us of a story of a miracle in which Jesus healed the blindness of a beggar of Jericho , Bartimaeus by name, because of his persistent request. However, the manner in which the pericope is situated in the whole Gospel, and the way in which it is narrated in Mark, make it clear that the Evangelist uses the story to teach us a lesson on what it means to follow Jesus. He placed it on the section on the teachings on discipleship that Jesus imparted to his followers on the way to Jerusalem , after having been given the revelation that he was the Messiah. Mark holds Bartimaeus as a model of Christian discipleship. To appreciate this point, we might well compare Bartimaeus with the disciples of Jesus.
The disciples were not blind; their eyes could see. Bartimaeus, on the other hand, was blind; his eyes could not see. But it is he whom Mark holds up for imitation. James and John, for example, were not blind, yet they could not understand who Jesus was. Even though they have already heard of Peter’s declaration that Jesus was the Messiah, yet they betrayed their spiritual blindness in requesting to be seated at the right hand and at the left hand of Jesus (Mark 10:37). Jesus in fact told them they were ignorant of—blind to—what they were asking. In other words, though they saw physically, yet the disciples continued to be spiritually blind (Mark 8:18.21). Even Peter was not an exception. Of course, it was Peter who made the solemn declaration that Jesus was the Messiah (Mark 8:29). It is clear, however, that in Mark’s story, Peter was likewise spiritually blind, though he could see physically. When Jesus spoke openly about the implication of this messianic title, Peter took him aside and rebuked him. Jesus in turn rebuked Peter’s spiritual blindness by saying: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does but as human beings do” (Mark 8:33). Physically blind though he was, Bartimaeus was different from the disciples. Although he called Jesus only by the title “Son of David,”(Mark 10:47—a fulfillment of 2 Sam 7:12-16), yet he requested Jesus to heal him (Mark 10:51). Unlike the disciples, he knew what he was asking—that the Messiah came to save him from blindness: “Master, I want to see” (Mark 10:31).
What made the difference? Bartimaeus was different from the disciples because he had faith (Mark 10:32. The disciples, on the other hand, are described in the Gospel as having no faith at all, or having only little faith. In the story of the calming of the storm, for example, Jesus asked them: “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” (Mark 4:40) That is why, they could not recognize Jesus with the eyes of faith, and therefore unable to understand the Lord, his word and his work. In the story of the walking on the waters, Mark remarked that the disciples “were completely astounded. They had not understood the incident of the loaves” (Mark 9:52). Lacking in faith, their hearts were hardened, like Jesus’ enemies (Mark 3:5-6), and could not comprehend what he disclosed to them: “Do you not yet understand or comprehend? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes and not see” (Mark 8:17-18b). It is therefore not surprising that when Jesus was arrested, all of the disciples abandoned him and fled (Mark 14:50). Even Peter denied him not only once but three times (Mark 14:72). Because they were blind, they could not understand God’s revelation to them, even though their eyes could see. That is why they did not follow him on the road to his death.
How different was Bartimaeus! He had great faith. Despite the effort of many to discourage him, his faith did not waver. He persisted in calling out the name of Jesus (Mark 10:48). His faith was so great that he was too ready to put aside his old life, symbolized by his cloak (Mark 10:50). Because of his faith, he never doubted the healing word of Jesus. And abandoning himself to him, he was cured of his blindness—he received his sight. With eyes now open, his faith having the ability to know the power of God working in Jesus, he followed Jesus on the way—which is the same as the way of discipleship (cf Acts 9:2; 19:9.23). As Jesus’ way was to Jerusalem , Mark wants to say that Bartimaeus was ready to follow the footsteps leading to Calvary and to embrace the cross (Mark 10:52b). And once he is crucified with the Lord, he would be able to make an offering to God for others (Heb 5:3; 2nd Reading ; see Lev 9:7). In other words, for Mark, Bartimaeus is a model of discipleship.
What does this mean for us? We may be blind spiritually—money, power, self-interest, honor and glory may blind us initially, but if we have the faith of Bartimaeus, we can allow Jesus to heal us. He will give us spiritual sight. With our ability to see spiritually, we will follow him on the road to Jerusalem , as we listen to his words and act on them. And our journey of discipleship will culminate in the offering of ourselves for others, for the good of the community of faith.
The Place of the Commandments in Christian Life
31st Sunday of Year B
(Mark 12:28-34)
November 1, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
In one of our reflections, we stressed that the distinctive feature of Christianity is Jesus himself. Christianity is a religion that is centered on the person of Jesus Christ. Ours is not a religion of law. A person is a Christian, not because he follows the Ten Commandments. (The Jews observe the Decalogue, so do the Jews. And yet, they are not Christians.) One is a Christian he follows Jesus, his word and life. But, if Christianity is a religion of a person, does this mean that it has no place for the commandments of God? Of course, not. Even in civil society, laws are needed; they are of use to human relationships. All kinds of laws are intended to regulate order. Without them, society is doomed to chaos. And of course, in any religion, probably never was there a time that laws never existed. In Christianity, however, laws are not the heart of it; basically, the commandments express the people’s response to God’s initiative. In them we find a manner of life that is congruent with the offer of God.
That manner of life is essentially the life of love. The Gospel today makes this point. When the scribe asked Jesus about the greatest of the commandments, Jesus summarized them into two, although the rabbis taught that God gave Moses 613 commandments (365 prohibitions; 248 positive commands). In summarizing them, he quoted from Deut 6:4-5 (“Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore, you shall love the Lord your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength.”. ) and Lev 19:18 (“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”). The summary shows that behind the commandments is revealed the life of love that God demands from his people. That love is shown in the love for the neighbor, because this form of love springs from the love of God.
The practice of religion, therefore, is not simply about doing nothing bad or offensive. More than refraining from evil deed or participation in it, it is always linked with loving God, shown in the love for others. It is along this gamut of thought that we shall understand St Augustine ’s maxim, “love and do what you will.” For when a person loves, he will do nothing that would harm his neighbor because his act of loving comes from the love of God. Paul describes this in terms of freedom: “For you were called for freedom, brothers. But do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh; rather, serve one another through love. For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement, namely, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Gal 1:13-14). This is the heart of the Jewish religion, and even of Christian religion—provided that we redefine what that love is. In Christian understanding, that love is none other than the love of Christ (John 15:12) shown in the Eucharist—his body is broken, his blood poured out (Mark 14:22.24). It is this form of love that ought to animate Christian praxis. Obviously, it is because of this redefinition that Jesus remarked to the scribe: “You are not far from the kingdom of God ” (Mark 12:24).
This has many consequences for Christian practice, but we can focus on one. Because love belongs to the heart of religion, liturgical worship would be less meaningful if there were no love. This explains why in the Old Testament, and as the scribe remarked (Mark 13:33), loving God is worth more than burnt offering and sacrifices: “Sacrifice and offering you do not want, but ears open to obedience you gave me. Holocaust and sin-offerings you do not require, so I said, ‘Here I am’ (Ps 40:7-8a). It is therefore understandable that, when the Jews laid much emphasis on the cult, the prophets readily criticized them. Hosea, for example, declared in God’s name: “For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice; and knowledge of God rather than holocausts” (Hosea 6:6; see also Jer 7:21-23; 1 Sam 15:22; Eccles 4:17). This prophetic critique was a serious one, considering the fact that the Temple worship, together with the Law, was central to the Jewish religion.
This has much bearing on our eucharistic celebration and other liturgical and devotional celebrations. In the final result, all of them should be celebrations of love. What is so much important is not that we have fulfilled the rubrics, or omitted nothing in the novena, or we have acquired charismatic gifts, like the ability to speak in tongues, or the ability to work miracles. It is our loving attitude to God, shown in our concern for other people, especially the poor, that counts. If, for instance, we celebrate Mass, we ought to know and even feel that we are celebrating the love of Christ. And it is expected that our liturgical celebration will deepen our love for him and for others. Our external worship should express our internal loving attitude; for, otherwise, that would be empty: “If I speak in human and angelic tongues… if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge… if I have all faith so as to move mountains, if I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast, but do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Cor 13:1-3).
The Widow’s Gift: An Example of Christian Response
32nd Sunday of Year B
(Mark 12:38-44)
November 8, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
In the Gospel of the previous Sunday, we noted that in the Old Testament, the people’s response to God’s initiative is expressed in their keeping of his commandments which, according to Jesus’ summary, are summed up in the one commandment of loving God with all of one’s heart, mind and strength, and of loving his neighbor as himself. In today’s Gospel, Mark tells us the story of Jesus’ denunciation of the scribes and his observation on the crowd who put their money into the treasury of the temple. What is of much relevance to us is the second, where a poor widow put in two small coins, for this story is connected with the point stressed in the Gospel last Sunday. This pericope considered as an independent story—probably of almsgiving--that Mark used in writing his Gospel, the widow represents what is best in the piety of the Old Testament. She placed all her two copper coins in one of the thirteen trumpet-shaped receptacles for offerings in the Court of Women in the Jerusalem Temple . In doing so, she demonstrated, poor though she was, her love for God out of her whole heart, soul, mind and strength. She gave all she had to live on (Mark 12:44).
In addressing his followers, however, Jesus appropriated this story as a lesson of discipleship. To begin with, in the Old Testament, a woman was a dependent creature, either on her husband or her father. But she could not inherit from her husband, and in the early period of Israel ’s history, she was part of the inheritance of the eldest son. We mention this to indicate how poor the widow was at the time of Jesus. In using this story, Mark was able to present two contrasting pictures: the poor widow and the rich man (Mark 10:17-32), and the poor widow and the scribes (Mark 12:38-40).
Whereas the man who wanted to follow Jesus and who was rich could not, after having been challenged by the Lord to get rid of them, part with his riches, the poor widow gave all she had. Having much wealth, the man depended on it; and his wealth stood in the way to discipleship. On the other hand, the widow had nothing to lean on except God himself; and it was easier for her to give everything she had. For Mark, this illustrates the truth that only a truly poor person can walk in the footsteps of Jesus. Wealth is a hindrance to it. A poor one, on the other hand, entrusts himself totally to God to care for him.
In the second contrast, the story of the poor widow immediately follows Jesus’ denunciation of the scribes: “Beware of the scribes who like to go around in long robes and accept greetings in the marketplaces, seats of honor in the synagogues, and places of honor at banquets. They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext, recite lengthy prayers” (Mark 12:38-40a). For Mark, the scribes were people who were knowledgeable about the commandment of love of God and neighbor, and it is for this knowledge that they were accorded honors at banquets, marketplaces, and presidential tables. And yet, they did not put into action their knowledge of the law. Indeed, instead of showing God’s love by giving to the poor, they exploited them, like the widows whose houses they devoured. On the other hand, the widow might not have been as knowledgeable about the law as the scribes, yet, she took it to heart. Instead of exploiting others, which she could not do, she gave everything to God. She trusted in him, not wealth. Indeed, she could have kept the other coin, and gave only one to the temple treasury, but she did not.
Both contrasts make it clear that all men are capable to responding to God’s generosity by being generous in love. A person, no matter how poor, like the widow, has always something to give. But an even more important point is that the greatness of one’s response is not seen in the amount that is given, for a wealthy man can always give from his surplus. Rather, what is decisive in the generosity of one’s response is the amount that is left. Hence, Jesus’ comment on the poor widow: “Amen, I say to you, the poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood” (Mark 12:44).
This is what discipleship really entails. Like the poor widow, we have to give up everything to follow Jesus in his footsteps.
The Triumph of the Son of Man: A Source of Hope
33rd Sunday of Year B
(Mark 13:24-32)
November 15, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
Discipleship means the following of Jesus. In Mark, however, discipleship has a definite reference—he is not just any Jesus. The Jesus being followed or referred to is the Son of Man: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow men… Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this faithless and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels”(Mark 8:34b-38). But who is this Jesus, the Son of Man? In Mark’s Gospel, this Son of Man who we follow in discipleship is, among others, the Jesus who must suffer, is rejected and killed (Mark 9:31; 10:33), and who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for all (Mark 10:44b). As Son of Man, Jesus corrected his disciples for their wrong perception of what following him meant. For example, he criticized Peter who, instead of accepting the prospect of suffering and humiliation, thought of reviving David’s conquest (Mark 8:33). It is also for this reason that he silenced the brothers James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who wished to occupy the prominent and prestigious places in the kingdom of God (Mark 10:38a).
Jesus’ criticism of his disciples makes it clear that to follow Jesus as Son of Man is rather costly. For judged in the light of worldly standard, it brings problems, deprivation, and suffering. A review of the Gospel readings of the preceding Sundays confirms this. The rich man refused to follow Jesus. When challenged to sell his property and give the money to the poor, his face fell because he was rich. For him, he could not suffer the loss of his wealth (Mark 10:23). As can be seen in Jesus’ prohibition of divorce, it also deprives one of his right to put away his wife for any cause (Mark 10:9). Discipleship also requires the giving up of ambition to lord it over others; instead, it asks the follower to accept suffering entailed in the ministry of service (Mark 10:38). Indeed, in one’s effort to call upon Jesus and follow him, as in the case of Bartimaeus, one could meet opposition and even attempts to silence him (Mark 10:48).
Does all this mean that following Jesus as Son of Man has nothing in store for the disciple except humiliation and defeat? Not at all. In the end, there is justification and triumph in discipleship. Although the disciple may live in a world enveloped by trials, difficulties and turmoil, he has a very certain consolation that the Son of Man he followed is coming back to give him eternal life in the age to come, making him share in his power and glory (see Mark 10:30). This is one point which this Sunday’s Gospel stresses: “Then they will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds, with great power and glory, and then he will send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of the sky” (Mark 13:26-27).
This is to say that when Jesus comes as Son of Man, we who followed him in suffering and even death will be victorious over the powers of evil and death. Structures of power and domination represented by the stellar phenomena will be toppled: “The stars and constellations of the heavens send forth no light. The sun is dark when it rises, and the light of the moon does not shine. Thus I will punish the world for its evil and the wicked for their guilt. I will put and end to the pride of the arrogant, the insolence of tyrants I will humble” (Isa 13:10-11). “Then the moon will blush and the sun grow pale. For the Lord of hosts will reign on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem , glorious in the sight of his elders” (Isa 24:23). Or, in the apocalyptic language of the 1st Reading , those who followed Jesus “shall shine brightly like the splendor of the firmament”(Dan 12:3). According to Mark, the chosen ones will be gathered from the four winds (Mark 13:27). This assembly of the elect who have followed the Son of Man fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah: “Fear not, for I am with you; from the east I will bring back your descendants; from the west I will gather you. I will say to the north: Give them up! and to the south: Hold not back! Bring back my sons from afar, and my daughters from the ends of the earth: everyone who is named as mind, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made” (Isa 43:5-6). This only means that like the Son of Man, the people of the new covenant are vindicated.
The point is obvious. Discipleship may be costly, but in the end, a final victory over the forces of darkness awaits those of us who followed the Son of Man. Hence, we have much reason to take up the cause of discipleship.
Jesus’ Kingdom: Not of this World
34th Sunday of Year B
(John 18:33-37)
November 22, 2009
By Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo, SThD
Power and privilege are what kingship and ruling are all about. In times past, among the basic duties of the king concern war and law: they have to wage war to protect the interest of the people, or protect them from war. They see to it that there is order in the kingdom. Today, among the basic expectations of the people from their rulers have to do with food and justice. They have power and privilege, but they have to see to it that people do not starve, and provide an ordered society in which justice prevails. It happens, however, that power, by which they can provide people food and justice, ironically causes hunger and injustice. For as Lord Acton observes, power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Indeed, it is scarcely untruthful to say that there is something demonic in political power. And one who holds it normally finds it difficult to relinquish it. The privileges that are attendant upon it are hard to give up. No wonder, once one is in power, he makes an effort to hold on to it, even by hook or by crook. It is not easy to say no to political power and its trappings. Because it corrupts, deception, graft, corruption, abuse, oppression, repression are often connected with it. Thus, though we change those who hold political power time and again, yet society scarcely exhibits itself has evolving into a more just and more humane one. One often gets the impression that it is a case of the same dog, with different collar. That is how it goes in the kingdoms of this world.
In today’s Gospel on the account of Jesus’ trial before Pilate, Jesus said that his kingdom is not of this world: “My kingdom does not belong to this world. If my kingdom did belong to this world, my attendants would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not here” (John 18:36). This does not mean, of course, that Jesus’ kingdom has nothing to do with this world. It does not even mean that his kingdom cannot be found in this world. In the theology of John, the word “world” as used in this pericope means the world of sin. If anything, what Jesus said means that his rule does not belong to this world of sin, a world that values political power and social privileges, where there is domination, where rulers lord it over people, and make their importance felt. Hence, he cannot be a king in the sense Pilate understood it:”You say I am a king” (John 18:37).
How then do we look at the kingship of Jesus? We can understand his kingship if we consider how Jesus understood his kingdom. According to him, it is a kingdom of truth (John 18:37). Truth, in John, echoes the meaning of Wisdom 6:22 which associates it with God’s hidden plan of salvation, and in Daniel 10:21 which connects it with the designs of God for the time of salvation. Thus, unlike Caesar, Jesus did not have soldiers who were armed to protect him, nor people who were at his beck and call (John 18:36b), but certainly he had followers—those who hear his voice, which is the truth (John 18:37c). These are the disciples, the believers, his sheep (John 10:16; 8:47). Having considered this, we now understand Jesus’ kingship. He is a King in the sense that he is the embodiment of truth (John 14:6), and all his words and his deeds testify to it (John18:37b). Moreover, he testified to that truth with his death; so, in his crucifixion he is the King (John 19:19).
Viewed in this light, we can easily understand why Jesus’ kingship is not of this world. However, still, it has to do with this world. For the truth is opposed to this world of sin and division; not surprisingly enough, it hates the testimony of Jesus (John 7:2). This world cannot accept the values of his kingdom—truth, justice, peace, liberation, equality and participation. But Christians cannot despair. For few they may be, yet those who hear the truth and believe in him will eventually conquer the world: “Who indeed is the victor over the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?”(1 John 5:4). In this feast of the Kingship of Jesus, John then has this to say to us: Jesus is a King and has a Kingdom. But if we are to share in his kingship, we must listen to his voice. By listening to his voice, we turn earthly values upside down: better to be poor than to be rich, to suffer than to persecute, to be weak than to be powerful, to be utilized than to exploit. We no longer imitate the current language of power and privilege. On the contrary, we follow him in discipleship, offering our very self on the cross, in which we can find our victory and vindication. In our crucifixion, we reign with him. In this reign, we experience wholeness, love, truth, justice and peace. By this kingdom which is not of this world, we will conquer the kingdom of this world.
(More homilies of Msgr. Lope Robredillo maybe viewed at: http://www.msgrlopecr.blogspot.com) |
