"Take the log out of your own eye first."

 

39 He also told them a parable: "Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? 40 A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully taught will be like his teacher. 41 Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 42 Or how can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,' when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye." Luke 6:39-42

There's nothing mysterious about Jesus' plain spoken teaching here. I entered religious life in 1969, a small Franciscan community in the throws of the renewal that followed the Vatican Council. This community had just stopped the practice of  Culpa Chapter—the public declaring of each others' negligences and faults. "Brother Martin talked in the dormitory after lights out." "Brother Cyril broke a cup in the kitchen and didn't declare it." "Brother David is seen in the company of Brother Francis too often." "Brother Luke takes seconds without asking permission." It made for a very neurotic, suspicious way of life. There was nothing interior about it—just accusing others of breaches of outer religious rules. Jesus would have a field day!

Here's a funny aside. When you broke or ruined something (a dish, a book, a pair of muddy sandals, a bent fork) you had to bring it to the chapter of faults if you intended to declare your own offense against poverty. One day a brother brought a toilet seat to the chapter, as he had broken it. Everyone laughed and understood how ridiculous the whole thing was. That was the last culpa chapter. But religion can get like that—petty and minding everyone else and losing one's own self-observing Christ-Center. In these gospel verses, Jesus says effectively, "Cut it out." 

Verse 39: Jesus gives us the little picture of one blind man taking off another blind man for a walk. Both will wind up in trouble. Imagine two people of low conscience (low consciousness) conspiring. Both are headed for a downfall. I'm thinking of troublemakers in the small parish, who put their heads together and don't even see themselves and how destructive of community they are—what spoilers! 

Verse 40: "...but everyone when he/she is fully taught..." Did I ever pay attention to those Christ words? Do I allow myself to be taught? The word is docile. It comes from the Latin docere—to teach. Instead of saying to myself, "Oh yeah, of course I'm teachable," I might pull up from the back of my mind when it was that I last listened long enough to what someone else had to say that I took it to heart and changed course. I sometimes wonder if docility (teachable-ness) is dead.

Verse 41: Jesus asks a question: why do we do this—see the faults of others and not our own? Jesus asks a question; he wants an answer, not an argument. Does it have to do with our fearing vulnerability, that a crack in our facade will be revealed, that someone will not like us, that we'll be perceived as a loser? In a homily at the start of Lent I once suggested that spouses ask each other, "What should I do for Lent?" One rather upset woman got in my face at the door — no way was she going to take the risk of asking her husband what she should do for Lent? Maybe he'd suggest giving up so much time gossiping about the parish on the phone? Stop trying to be so impressive? 

Verse 42: One translation uses the word, "plank" — take the plank out of your own eye first. But I think log is better. Jesus has a sense of humor. Log is funnier than plank. He knows how we are. I put up a picture of a log pile here. Jesus speaks in the singular, but truth be told, we can carry a whole pile of logs in our eyes. Judgments, assessments about everyone and everything. And some of those judgments can be very old. Remember, when a tree is cut, we can count the rings revealing how old the tree is — a ring for every year. I saw a tree slice once that had well over 1000 rings. Old tree — old resentments. A lifetime of judging and resenting! But again this gospel is about seeing ourselves first. "Why do you see...?"

"You hypocrite..." The Greek word hypocrite means actor. When religion doesn't take me inside to self-knowledge and the awareness of new direction and evolution, I'm just an actor on a stage. There was an older nun on the seminary faculty who called us all out on this one day. She said at a house meeting, "You know, you're all sitting there in chapel every morning with your prayer books on your laps with the colored ribbons set, and you're looking all around the place checking out each other's sweaters." Ouch!

"So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a Sycamore tree to see him."

Last Sunday the gospel tax collector had no name. Today the featured tax collector is named Zacchaeus.  And Zacchaeus, we're told, "sought to see who Jesus was." This suggests he's not just caught up in the crowd's enthusiasm, but he's interested in Jesus. Perhaps he's heard of Jesus' teaching or reports of Jesus' miracles.

But he's short and so runs ahead and climbs a sycamore tree in order to get a better view. The Sycamore tree is mentioned only this once in the New Testament, so we ought to pay attention to its meaning. Sycamores appear in the stories of ancient gods and goddesses. They symbolize growth, the pursuit of truth, bounty, protection and redemption. To understand the wisdom of the gods, the sycamore must be climbed mystically. And so here is Zacchaeus climbing the Sycamore to see Jesus. 

We can imagine that Zaccaheus took a ribbing from others because he was short. But that doesn't stop him from running and climbing the tree. I'd say the evangelist Luke intends that we find the scene funny: this little rich guy, running in cumbersome robes, balancing himself on a branch hanging over the road and peering out through the leaves. Kind of silly: "Zacchaeus, you're ridiculous." Zacchaeus, you look like a fool." "Zacchaeus, you're pathetic."

Jesus knows he's up in the tree. He also knows what's on the the tax collector's mind. And instead of rolling his eyes and laughing at him, Jesus calls him to come down and invites himself to dinner. In the Middle-Eastern world, dinner was an occasion of great intimacy and friendship. Jesus seems to reward Zacchaeus for taking the risk of looking ridiculous for his sake. 

Matthew Kelty was a Trappist monk of the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. At one point in his monastic life he was given permission to try an experimental community of six monks living in the greatest simplicity in the woods of Piedmont, North Carolina. Seven miles from town, the monks set out to create an environment of deep, prayerful serenity. They maintained the meatless diet of Trappists as a witness to non-violence and otherwise grew their own food. They learned weaving to make a living and welcomed numerous guests despite the rugged, no-frills lifestyle of the place. Needless to say, there were more than a few people who thought the monks were ridiculous, giving up the securities that come with living in a large, established monastic house.

Here's a section from Matthew Kelty's book Flute Solo, in which he describes a new depth of a Zacchaeus-like foolishness for a greater good or truth:

During our years in the Piedmont there was a great deal of anguish in the country over the war in Vietnam. Our concern was both with the lack of strong protest from the Catholic Church and the need to stress the monk as man identified with peace. We felt that many monks were insensitive to the moral implications of genuine patriotism. A lot of discussion led to a small decision; to have the phone removed. We had learned that the phone tax was a specific war tax, and perhaps the only one. Though we could have refused to pay it, we decided to go a step further and dispense with the phone altogether. Doing so turned out to be a blessing. It was sometimes an inconvenience, but we had peace. A six-foot wall around the place would not have assured us more privacy.

What creative monks - like Zaccaheus! But every Christian can do something ridiculous so to pursue wisdom, truth, goodness, redemption (which is not the same as going to heaven). Any ideas?

The Pharisee and the Tax Collector ~ Names Matter

Here is a fresco depicting last Sunday's Gospel: the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. The Pharisee has the bible scrolls right at hand while reminding God of his spiritual success. A great fish in the lower right corner opens its mouth wide to swallow him up for his presumption. 

Behind him, the Tax Collector has just stumbled in with his money bag hanging off his belt. He carries a weapon into God's house: not cool. Above them both the painter has added his own detail - an angel weeping, so grieved by the Pharisee's pious show. Here's the text of  Jesus' Gospel Parable, followed by some homily thoughts.

Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others: "Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, 'God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.'
   "But the tax collector, standing far off, wold not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying 'God, be merciful to me a sinner!'
   "I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted."  Luke 18:9-14

Good teacher that he is, Jesus is the master of stories that tell us how it is with God and God's rule. The stories usually employ things from everyday life with which people would be familiar: seed, sheep, coins, different kinds of ground, pearls and treasure. Jesus' stories also reveal that he had keen insights into what makes human beings tick. And so this parable is simply about two men. We don't have to figure out the meaning of the story; we're told at the end: "...for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles humbles himself will be exalted."

But I'd suggest there is something to this story that is even more fundamental. The guy up front doesn't even know the fellow in the back. Maybe he's seen him at the tax office, but in his pious prayer he refers to the man as "this" - "this tax collector." 

This reference with no name lays out that there is a great human divide. And this attitude of division trips off his tongue. It's acceptable to him: "This one," "That one," "Them." 

Some months ago there was a picture from Syria of a five year old boy, shell shocked, bleeding and covered with dust, after his home was bombed. We see him stunned and sitting in the back of the ambulance. And as attention getting as the picture was already, when the news media revealed some days later that the boy's name is Omran Dagneesh, the photo became even more upsetting, more urgent,  troubling and personal.

Omran Dagneesh

When I was a young priest I was told by parishioners there was a man living in the woods under some boards and branches. When I asked the pastor if we could house him for the winter in our empty convent of twenty bedrooms, he said, "No, there are insurance issues."

I don't doubt there were insurance issues, but we should have sought out the man anyway, and at least learned his name and heard his story to see what we might do for him, if not house him. Emphasis on learn his name.

I'm thinking of a twenty year old young man who when he re-located to his college-town started going to daily Mass each morning in the nearby cathedral. After a year he told me, "No one ever came near me to say hello or to ask for my name." But we might well imagine a group on the church steps afterwards talking about "that boy who comes to Mass everyday."

At the heart of our religion is name. God says, "I have called you by name; you are mine." Isaiah 43:1 And in another place: "God knows the number of the stars and calls each one by name." Isaiah 40:26 And if God can name each of the stars, how much more surely God knows my name; your name.

David is a flight steward who says that even though he wears a name tag no ever uses his name - indeed, the folks boarding don't even return his greeting. Using someone's name suggests we know we're all on common ground.

We'll likely all be in a store or restaurant this week and the cashier or server will be wearing a name tag. Maybe we could surprise that person by using his/her name at some point. There is a Gospel precedent you know: "Zacchaeus, come down out of that tree; I mean to have dinner at your house tonight." Luke 19:5

The Parable of the Seed Sower

Van Gogh ~ The Seed Sower

On another occasion Jesus began to teach by the lake-side. The crowd that gathered round him was so large that he had to get into a boat on the lake, and there he sat, with the whole crowd on the beach right down to the water's edge. And he taught them many things  by parables.

As he taught them he said: Listen! A sower went out to sow. And it happened that as he sowed, some seed fell along the footpath; and the birds came and ate it up. some seed fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil, and it sprouted quickly because it had no depth of earth; but when the sun rose the young corn was scorched, and as it had no proper root it withered away. Some seed fell among thistles; but the thistles shot up and choked the corn, and it yielded no crop. And some of the seed fell into good soil, where it came up and grew, and bore fruit; and the yield was thirtyfold, sixtyfold, even a hundred fold. He added, "If you have ears to hear, then hear.' Mark 4: 1-9

IN THE FIRST VERSES we see that a large and eager crowd has gathered to hear Jesus who uses a boat as a pulpit to avoid being pushed into the water by his fans. These happy listeners are a contrast to the little group of suspicious investigators who, in the previous verses, have come down from Jerusalem: religious headquarters. Some people still do this when they write complaint letters to the bishop, papal nuncio or directly to the Pope. 

Notice that Jesus sits while teaching which means that he teaches with authority. Mark gives us lovely details: the people are pushed down to the water's edge. Hold the picture mindfully and you're meditating. Maybe the people want to be able to hear better. No sitting in the last row here! And St. Mark tells us that Jesus taught the people many things. Jesus isn't stingy and never like a teacher, parent, doctor or cleric who's always in a hurry.

Jesus gets our attention, "Listen up, everyone!" Good teacher that he is, Jesus uses parables which are picture stories. Parables deliver a new perspective, causing people to question what they think they're so sure of. If I'm going to follow Jesus I've got to be ready for a new way of looking at things. I shouldn't be so sure that I know what God is about or up to!

The seed is God's Word. Big churches usually have pulpits that are elevated above the congregation - even many steps up so folks can see and hear better. Stepping into that kind of pulpit I always think of the seed sower walking through the field and while wearing the seed bag on the left side he/she digs into the bag and pulls out fistfuls of seed, throwing it in a splaying motion while walking. Seed thrown everywhere!

Notice this - there's nothing wrong with the seed - the problem is the ground which receives it. Notice too that most of the seed is wasted or lost, for one reason or another it simply doesn't produce. Footpath. Birds. Rock shelf under the shallow soil. Scorching sun. Thistle-weeds. But God isn't discouraged! Instead God celebrates wherever the seed-word is fruitful! 

What's the fruit God is looking for? Maybe the Mass Preface for the Feast of Christ the King tells us: A kingdom of truth and life: a Kingdom of holiness and grace: a Kingdom of justice, love and peace. The parable invites me to think about my own life and why perhaps so much of God's Word fails in me or my family. Name it!

But Jesus knows human nature much better than we often do. He ends the parable by saying, "If you have ears to hear, then hear." If! Jesus knows well that we are each conditioned differently, that some people are simply not receptive, while others might be superficial, still others are distracted or pre-occupied. And even in those who ARE open, inviting and receptive to God's Word, there are degrees or levels of fruitfulness or effectiveness (thirty, sixty, a hundredfold). I'm left to ask, What do I want for myself?