Politics, religion and real life

I have not blogged for awhile. Been busy with various things -- work, church, music, work, book club, you get the idea. I am going to finish the book about Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus. But this is a temporary but necessary diversion.
A year or two ago, I began reading a blog by an evangelical Christian author and blogger, one lovely young woman by the name of Rachel Held Evans. I hadn't looked at the blog in ages. Rachel is an excellent writer who looks at her evangelical faith with an often-critical, yet still respectful and loving eye, for the most part. She has invited guests from different faiths and invited her readers to submit questions -- Ask a Catholic, Ask a Mormon, Ask a Jew, Ask a Pagan (yes, I'm not making that up) and so on. These guest contributors do their best to answer the questions posed. It's a great idea.
I stopped there tonight in my online travels because her most recent post headline caught my eye: "How to Win a Culture War and Lose a Generation." Here is a link to her blog: http://tinyurl.com/6tn5plp
This post is about the War on Gays and Lesbians and the states that have passed constitutional amendments and laws to ban gay marriage, for example. She talks about her generation being tired of culture wars, tired finding reasons to exclude others, dismayed by the negative perception that society at large seems to have of Christianity and evangelicals.
She asks whether it's worth it -- the political victories against homosexuality, for example -- when the cost of that victory is the loss of hearts and minds of so many young Christians. 
She goes on to state, among other things: 
"We are ready to start washing feet instead of waging war."
I'm here to say that it's not just young Christians, and it's not just evangelical Christians, who are dismayed at the political environment and the behavior of church leaders.
As a Catholic, I have been terribly dismayed about several things recently. 

• The Vatican's assault on certain orders of nuns in America, which has been perceived (I'm not sure whether rightly or wrongly) as an attack on all nuns, unjustly, and indeed on women in general. I am told that it was only targeting specific orders that were seen by Rome as defiant of authority, but the statement that was issued about nuns spending too much time on social justice and not enough time speaking out against gay marriage abortion and contraception was a huge turnoff for me -- and I am a dedicated Catholic to the core. 
• A Catholic bishop in Idaho who refused to allow a young man who was graduating from a parochial school in the diocese to receive recognition for a major scholarship he had won. The young man is openly gay and has been throughout his high school years, according to the news report. The scholarship was named for Matthew Shepard, a young gay man who several years ago was beaten to death just for being gay. The scholarship recipient cannot be recognized at commencement because it promotes homosexuality, which is against church teachings. Yet the young man was allowed to attend the parochial school and work for months to apply for and win the scholarship. It's hypocritical at this juncture to refuse him the recognition he deserves. The scholarship is for his academic work, not for being gay. 
• Now the Catholic bishops are, according to Huffington Post, speaking out against (I am not making this up) Girl Scouts USA, because the worldwide organization with which Girl Scouts is affiliated has issued a statement to the effect that girls should be given an opportunity to learn about sexuality. This goes against church teachings, the bishops said. 

Maybe the bishops need to be reminded about what Jesus, our role model, did. He hung out with sinners, prostitutes and tax collectors. He knew they were human beings in need of salvation. He didn't revile them. He didn't caution his disciples to stay away from them. He did not denounce them (except for the merchants who were exchanging currency and selling religious items in the temple in Jerusalem). 

Jesus washed the feet of his disciples at the Last Supper, and he told his disciples that he was giving them an example of how to treat others. That's what his entire ministry on Earth was -- an example for us to follow. I don't see that example being followed as much as I would like, not by evangelicals and not by Catholic leadership in this country. 

Indeed, let's start washing some feet instead of waging culture wars. Let's lead by example and treat all of God's children with dignity and respect. Let's wage peace and love instead of war and aggression. Let's not forget that all people are children of God. What would Jesus do? He would love his gay and lesbian children just as he loves the rest of us. God doesn't reject us; we reject God, through our words and actions, and through the things we fail to say and do. He's always there, waiting patiently for us to realize the error of our ways and return to him for forgiveness. 

I'm not young anymore, but I, like Rachel Held Evans' young Christians, yearn to wash the feet of others, and I yearn to see my beloved Church do more of the same instead of making exclusionary, inflammatory and distinctly unloving statements that cause people to turn away. We are the hands and feet and voices of Jesus in the world, and if we do too much denouncing, condemning and excluding, we will not be effectively sharing his message in the world. I cannot believe he would, were he here today, be issuing public statements like those. He would be too busy washing feet and loving sinners.

Seven Pages a Day: And They Said It Couldn’t Be Done

Well, I did it! I finished the New Testament in 40 days. Actually, I finished a few days early, which—as you’ll see—turned out to be a good thing.

Today is the last day of Lent. The Triduum begins tomorrow evening. The next three days are the most sacred days in the Christian calendar. It begins with the celebration of the Last Supper and Institution of the Holy Eucharist. It continues with Good Friday—good because of Christ’s atoning death—and culminates on Easter with the marvelous resurrection of our Savior, which is the foretaste of our own glorification.

I chose to read Revelation last because, well, it’s the last book of the New Testament. Wow. It was like reading a mini-version of The Lord of the Rings. I LOVED it! If you don’t know, Revelation was written by John while he was exiled on the Island of Patmos. It records a series of visions experienced by John. A lot of people have racked their brains trying to figure out to what or whom each of the symbols refers. It’s hard to say. Some are obviously relevant to the time in which John lived. But given the plot of the book is the universal and timeless battle between good and evil, it’s hard to tell.

Personally, I think Revelation can be fulfilled again and again. It probably will be until the end of time, when “(t)here will be no more night” and “(we) will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give (us) light. And (we) will reign for ever and ever.” (Rev. 22:5) with Christ, “the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End (Rev. 22:13).” To that I say, “So be it! Lord Jesus, come!” (Rev. 22:20).

I also think Revelation, with its call to keep faith until that day comes, speaks to our personal Armageddon—the last battle before the day of judgment. In that sense, we are all living in the end times, because when we die…well, that’s the end of time for us! Armageddons come in all shapes and sizes, too. But they all give us the opportunity to “go on doing good (Rev. 20: 11).”

John and I have been facing one of these Armageddons since vacation last week. First, we both broke our phones, which plunged us deep into the bowels of Cricket Phone Hell. After emerging victorious from there, brandishing new phones like shining swords, we were confronted with a mouse infestation in our kitchen. Ugh. John bought mousetraps. I sought wisdom on mouse control from my peeps on Facebook. Spot, our cat, continued grooming herself.  Not a mouser bone in her body.  We’re doing everything to make our home uninviting to them without having to kill them.  It’s not the easiest route. 

Still in the midst of this battle, we were confronted with another attack from the dark side. Halfway through the rinse cycle, the washer died. Of course, that was the load that had all our underwear. John found out it couldn’t be fixed, which meant another $$ ding we weren’t expecting. Plus, I had the pleasure of dragging out every last piece of clothing from the washer, ringing it out and throwing it in the dryer. This activity distracted me from the sound of water running in my office, which turned out to be coming from a broken toilet.

And yet, somehow, through it all we kept our peace.  Did reading the New Testament in 40 days  help?  I like to think so.  It was a reminder that when I set my mind to it, I can do just about anything and face about any trial.  Because with God, nothing is impossible.

Have a blessed and holy Easter. 

Seven Pages a Day: Living the Dream

Let me tell you the best way to read fairy tales:  snuggled under a blanket on an overstuffed couch with your favorite wiggleworm tucked under your arm. 

Let me tell you the worst way to read the Gospel of John:  in a metal trailer with the acoustics of Carnegie hall, walls the consistency of typing paper, an adorable three year old (my third cousin and favorite wiggleworm, Ivan) and an entirely edible 11month old (his little sister, Emma). 

But I did it!  I read my seven pages a day while visiting my cousins on Rosebud Reservation.  Granted, the words rattled off the page and around in my head like pebbles in a tin can.  Therefore, comprehension, like visibility in a blizzard, was low.  Memory retention was not much better…about as good as a woman deep into menopause.

Most of the time has been spent with my most excellent second cousins, Lucero and Jonathan, and Lucero’s husband Geo (cousin-in-law?) and their two aforementioned children.  Sadly, their other brother Alex, who is working in Alaska, couldn’t join us.  Lucero, Jonathan and Alex are the kids of my first cousin, Shawn and her husband Al, who is…aww, heck, forget.  We’re all just family.

Lucero works for Teach for America.  Teach For America (TFA) is an American non-profit organization that aims to eliminate educational inequity by enlisting recent college graduates and professionals to teach for two or more years in low-income communities throughout the United States.  She teaches fourth grade at St. Francis Mission School in St. Francis, SD.  St. Francis Mission is a ministry of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits) among the 20,000 Lakota (Sioux) people on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in south-central South Dakota.

Lucero leaves for school between 7 and 8am.  During the day, while Lucero teaches, her husband and brother take care of the children.  I feel like I’ve been in a Language Immersion intensive all week, because Jonathan and Geo (who is from the Honduras) both speak Spanish and English to Ivan and Emma.  Last fall I took a seven week beginners Spanish class.  I’m happy to say most of the time I was able to follow some of the simpler conversations. 

While they care for the kids, both Geo and Jonathan find time to fix tasty meals of fried bread and eggs, pancakes with fried apples, fried steak and vegetables, rice and refried beans.  At some point in the day, we were taken on walks with their feisty pup, Oso (Spanish for Bear, because he looked like a bear as a baby) to tour the small town of St. Francis.  At other points we were taken on walks with Geo and their two legged feisty pup, Ivan, to the jungle gym.  This is affectionately called “Mas” for “more” by Ivan and family, because Ivan always wants “mas, mas!” 

Somehow, breakfast and lunch have appeared amidst all this activity, and then it’s time for dinner.  An exhausted Lucero arrives home around 7pm after a day of working with her youngsters.  She unwinds just long enough to eat and play with her much-loved children before we all think it’s about time to pass out.  This is Lucero’s routine except for the few nights she goes to school at the Sinte Gleska University.

Even in the midst of all this hustle and bustle, Jonathan has been a generous host.  He took the time to arrange tours of the Buechel Memorial Lakota Museum in St. Francis (named for Jesuit priest Fr. Buechel).  The Museum's purpose is to show the enduring respect for the traditions, culture, and history of the Lakota of the Rosebud Reservation. Named after Father Eugene Buechel, S.J., a noted missionary, linguist, and ethnologist who came to St. Francis Mission in 1902, the museum contains many unique artifacts, images, and documents.

We also toured St. Charles Borromeo Church.  It’s a beautiful lavender structure built in 1921, following a fire that destroyed it in 1916.   It blends traditional Lakota artwork with the story of Christ told through leaded stained glass windows and the Stations of the Cross.

Jonathan also played tour director, guiding us through South Dakota to Pine Ridge in Pine Ridge Reservation and on to within spitting distance of the Black Hills.  We also walked along the edges of the breathtaking badlands.

In Pine Ridge, we visited Higher Grounds, a coffee house there that would rival any in Chicago, before going to White Clay, where we bought a quilt made by the women of Pine Ridge.   After that we visited the Heritage Center, located on the property of the Red Cloud Indian School.  This center is managed by the Jesuits, as well.  It seeks to strengthen cultural pride and celebrate, as well as preserve, the local Lakota cultural artistic and tradition. 

Then we went to Wounded Knee, a piece of American history that still breaks my heart.  The museum was closed, but we were able to climb the hill to the cemetery and view the mass grave where the Indians were tossed after the massacre.  Frankly, I was glad the museum was closed.  It seemed more fitting to simply mourn the horror of what had happened there.

On Thursday, our last day here, we talked Lucero into calling in “sick” to work so we can spend the day together and have a picnic in the Niobrara Wildlife Refuge.  Of course, it rained.  Lucero, John, and Jonathan made us apple pancakes for breakfast instead while I worked on my blog and Geo played with Emma.   Ivan played with a musical toy, which got a sick to the stomach.   I was required to fix it.  This led to Ivan’s first lesson in clearing chakras.  Oso sat at my feet eating…hey, Oso! Stop that!  No!  No paper!  Oh well, too late.

Later that afternoon we were able to visit the NWR.  I have never seen Prairie dogs before.  Boy, were they adorable!  We also got to drive right through a small herd of buffalo.  What gentle creatures. 

Geo, Lucero and Jonathan have shared with us this week their dreams of buying a farm on the east coast in a few years.  They plan to raise their own organic vegetables and start a restaurant.  Other possibilities are all a part of this dream—gardens for meditation, flower essences, essential oils and herbs, a bed and breakfast, a place to raise their children that is as close to off the grid as this country will allow anymore.   Jonathan tells me of their love for family, the importance of maintaining connections to the generations behind and beyond.  I watch Geo during these conversations, often silent because of the language barrier between us, and consider the sacrifices he has made in leaving his family behind in the Hondoras.  I am amazed  by his love for and dedication to his new, little family here in North America. 

Maybe they wouldn’t agree, but I think they have already begun to live their dream.  In order to survive a family must be generous, welcoming, hardworking, sacrificial, and forgiving.  I saw all these qualities and so many more in the day-to-day activities of my cousins—my little bit of extended family.  It is humbling and inspiring to me, especially when I consider what a shambles my own "family of origin" is in—held together in my heart right now by nothing more than grit and prayer. 

Was Jesus feeling the same sadness for lost family the last night of his life, when he prayed for the disciples that he was about to leave, and for all those who would believe in him in the future (John 17)? He probably saw the same thing happening to the family he sought to create in his three short years of ministry.  There would be disastrous betrayals that would cause irreparable loss as well as enduring commitments that would continue to draw people together in spite of themselves. 

He would pray for them all to be one in the Spirit of Love, which is God.  He would ask that they love one another, which is the gospel.  It was his dream, his most precious dream.  I’m happy to report it’s alive and well, and living in a little trailer in St. Francis, South Dakota. 

Well, that’s it for the Gospel of John.  I’d say more if I could, but I’ve been too busy this week.  Gotta go now. We’re off for another adventure…one more before I go.

A rose by any other name?

Chapter 6 of "Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus" deals with something we Americans think little about -- names. Well, actually, it deals more specifically with God's name, but it's perfectly applicable to our own names as well.
I had often wondered about why blasphemy was such a big deal -- taking the name of God in vain. I, like most Americans, associated this with swearing or cursing. So I slip up and out of my mouth glides something liike "Oh, Jesus Christ. Now what?" And then I quake. What have I done? But truly, why is this worse than, say, murdering someone, or torturing, or any of a number of things I could do that would seem far worse that a slip of the tongue?
Well, as you might have guessed by now, it's because a slip of the tongue is not what taking God's name in vain is all about. And speaking his name respectfully is not, likewise, what hallowing his name is all about.
I remember about 18 or so years ago, my adult daughter was attending church with me, and her 18 month old twins were with us. One was getting antsy, and eventually an older woman who was sitting in front of us turned around and said sharply, "There's a cry room just around that corner. Use it, that's what it's there for." But she didn't stop there. She added (no doubt without much thought), "And don't punish him or abuse him over this. It's not his fault."
My daughter was devastated, not only because the woman was not welcoming to her, but because there seemed to be an implication that the (still) unidentified woman thought she might abuse her child. She did not return to my church for many, many years. And I suspect that it played a role in her decision to eventually join a completely different church.
Did that woman mean to drive my daughter and her young twins away? Surely not. But then, did she stop and think what an effect her harsh words might have on a young mother who was struggling to quiet her rambunctious toddlers? Obviously not.
She probably thought she was teaching my daughter to behave respectfully while in church. She probably thought she was doing my daughter -- and God -- a favor by pointing out that the child's restlessness was distracting to her and others.
I maintain that she was not hallowing God's name at all, but rather was taking God's name in vain. How so? She caused my daughter to feel unwelcome in God's house, to sense that her children were not worthy to be there, that the woman was representing my church and therefore that maybe God didn't want her to be there.
In this installment of "Dust," we learn that God's name, as referenced in 1st century Jewish writing (and before) was really referring to  God's reputation. This was very important in that culture, and it still is today, although we approach it differently, and as a society, we certainly have a different set of values.
That's not to say that the actual name of Jesus isn't important. It is. It's original form, Yeshua, means "God's salvation." The first time I heard that version of Jesus' name was at a wedding, a ceremony at a messianic Jewish community. They referred to Jesus as Yeshua. At the time, I simply thought it was beautiful because of the sound of it, the ease with which it rolls of the tongue.
In ancient times, before Israel's day, even, if something lacked a name, it didn't exist. Which makes me wonder somewhat about the ancient Hebrew tradition of not speaking God's name. I guess it's because they acknowledge that he has a name, but they don't speak it out of respect.
At the Easter Vigil in a couple of weeks, we will hear many readings from the Old Testament, including Genesis. We will hear about how God made each component of our world, and then he named it, and then declared it to be good. Once God gave each component of his creation a name -- sky, earth, day, night, heaven and man himself -- it was complete and had existence.
We speak of God's name every Sunday, or every day if you attend daily Mass. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. What that really means is Blessed is he who comes forward as a representative of God, whose behavior and demeanor reflect the good reputation of God.
OK, so why would God care about his reputation among men? He's perfect, the creator, the alpha and the omega. Why would he lose sleep worrying about what we think of him?
He cares because he has a plan, and that plan involves our salvation so we can spend eternity with him. Yes, he wants us to spend eternity with him; it's not just us hoping for a glimpse of his glory. And therefore, when we cause others to see God in a positive light, we glorify him and we expand his reputation on Earth, so that others will also come to know and love him.
Whenever we do something because it's the right thing to do, we sanctify his name (and him). But wait, there's more.
We also must publicly acknowledge him and his role in our lives and behaviors and values and morals.
We have to do both things -- behave in a way that glorifies his name and acknowledge that fact. The goal always being to grow his good reputation and help others understand.
To get back to the woman in church, she wasn't glorifying God when she caused my daughter to feel like a horrible person. She wasn't acting in the name of the Lord when she made her to feel unwelcome.
There are bigger examples, of course, too numerous to count. When a self-described Christian stands up and expounds on how much he hates someone else, or talks disparagingly about her neighbor, or gossips, or speaks in self-righteous terms, that's blasphemy, particularly when those negative words, thoughts and actions are declared to be done in the name of the Lord, or in keeping with his word and teachings.
When, on the other hand, someone reaches out to the  marginalized in our society, visits prisoners, feeds the hungry, gives drink to the thirsty, companionship to the lonely, clothing and shelter to those in need, those are all ways to embody "Hallowed by thy name." Especially when it's made clear that this is God's will, that the actions are done in his name, or because of his teachings. "They will know you are Christians by your love for one another."
The author of "Dust" mentions such recent examples as Terry Jones, the Florida preacher who threatened, then carried out his threat, to burn the Qur'an in 2010. Why was that blasphemy? Wasn't he sticking up for the truth of the Gospel? No, because he didn't win over any souls wtih that hateful behavior. He alienated Muslims, which is no different than what the woman in the church pew 20 years ago did to my daughter, except that it was more public and affected a lot more people.
We hear it all the time, how certain vocal Christians give Christianity and the church -- and by extension, God himself -- a bad name. Blasphemy can range from simple rudeness to a visitor at church to burning someone else's sacred texts or even committing murder in God's name, as the Fort Hood shooter did when he opened fire and killed 13 people.
I guess the moral of this chapter is that we need to always be vigilant and be careful what we say, how we say it and how our words, actions and demeanor might cause someone else to feel about God.
Are you a good ambassador for Jesus, or do your good intentions lead somewhere that you would really rather not go?

Seven Pages a Day: Chock Full O'Wisdom

Hello, faithful readers! Well, here we are a mere week and a few from Palm Sunday. Where did this Lent fly? I’ve managed to read nine more letters, on which I’ve reported below.

This will probably be my last blog for at least a week. This Sunday my husband John and I will be traveling to South Dakota to visit my cousin Lucero and her family. She is living and teaching on the Rosebud Reservation as a volunteer for Teach for America. I’m so proud of her!

We’re very excited about the trip, but I am a little worried about how well I’ll be able to keep up with my Lenten commitment to read the entire New Testament by Holy Thursday. Fortunately, I only have three books left: Acts, Revelations and the Gospel of John. I’m having a hard time deciding which one to read next. Maybe I’ll flip a coin. Wait, I’d need a three-headed coin for that. Well, I’ll figure it out.

Meanwhile...

1^stTimothy: This is one of three letters grouped together as the Pastoral Epistles, along with 2^nd Timothy and Titus. They are so called because they are addressed to Timothy and Titus, two young men ordained as pastors to the early churches. I may have been more charmed if one of the pastors was a woman.  Reading any one of these letters will work just as well as Ambien.

Philemon: This is a brief but touching letter in which Paul pleads on the behalf of Philemon’s runaway slave, Onesimus, turned Paul’s spiritual son. It is very tender, and has much to say about the power of forgiveness.

Hebrews: This book starts out like the notes from that really boring Christian Theology 101 class you took in Freshman year of College from the 1000 year old professor whose unruly nose hair both fascinated and repulsed you. But then you hit Chapter 11 and you are wowed. Here the author describes with ecstatic eloquence the heroes (uh, more heroines, please!) of faith we are called to emulate. Chapter 11 helps to make more sense out of Chapter 12—if our forebears suffered for the gift of faith, then who do we think we are to escape a similar fate? But then it’s back to more advice on the daily grind. Ho hum.

James: This letter bounces around a bit, discussing a number of issues germane to living a deeply spiritual life. James writes well, borrowing from nature to create lively metaphors and similes. Its wholesome air is summed up in one of my all-time favorite verses: “Every good gift and every perfect present comes from heaven; it comes down from God, the Creator of the heavenly lights, who does not change or cause darkness by turning” (Jas. 1:17)

1^stPeter, 2^nd Peter, Jude: These three letters are worth reading together as they seem to dovetail each other. The first dovetails the second in name (but not necessarily in authorship); the second dovetails the third in its concern regarding false teachers. Jude has quite the jaundiced eye regarding false teachers.

In summary what can I say about these nine letters?  Well, they are chock full of wisdom, faith and good advice.  Nonetheless, a part of me is tempted to sing along with Peggy Lee “Is That All There Is?”   There is so much more I want to know.  These brief letters and gospels just whet the appetite.  Guess I'll have to wait for heaven, where we can all sit around the campfire and hear the rest.

Seven Pages a Day: Come Back to Your Senses!

This is my second reflection on the Gospel of Mark.  A few days ago, I talked about how Mark wrote in such a way as to emphasize the need to pay attention to the revelation of God in Jesus Christ.  In part two, I want to point out when and how Jesus healed the six senses.  Yes, six:  hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, smelling, and the ability to know ourselves, our own mind—what Buddhism would call “brilliant sanity.”  I don't know that I have any brilliant insights to add to these stories, but I want you to read them.  Let them bring you a greater appreciation for the gift of your senses to the spiritual life.

Jesus Heals a Deaf-Mute

Jesus then left the neighborhood of Tyre and went on through Sidon to Lake Galilee, going by way of the territory of the Ten Towns. Some people brought him a man who was deaf and could hardly speak, and they begged Jesus to place his hands on him. So Jesus took him off alone, away from the crowd, put his fingers in the man's ears, spat, and touched the man's tongue. Then Jesus looked up to heaven, gave a deep groan, and said to the man, “Ephphatha,”
which means, “Open up!” At once the man was able to hear, his speech impediment was removed, and he began to talk without any trouble.  Mark 7: 31-35

Notice Jesus took him off by himself.  Why do you suppose that was?  I like to think it was because the first thing Jesus wanted him to hear were birds singing and the wind rushing in the trees.  But probably the first thing he heard was Jesus’ own voice. 

Jesus Heals a Blind Man at Bethsaida

They came to Bethsaida, where some people brought a blind man to Jesus and begged him to touch him.  Jesus took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village. After spitting on the man's eyes, Jesus placed his hands on him and asked him, “Can you see anything?”  The man looked up and said, “Yes, I can see people, but they look like trees walking around.” Jesus again placed his hands on the man's eyes. This time the man looked intently, his eyesight returned, and he saw everything clearly.  Jesus then sent him home with the order, “Don't go back into the village.”  Mark 8: 22-25

Here Jesus led him clear out of the village before he restored the man’s sight.  Then, when his sight was restored, Jesus gave him a gentle nudge out of town.  What are your thoughts on that?  I think it was because Jesus wanted him to see first thing was real trees, like the olive and fig, as well as shrubs and flowers.  But probably the first thing he saw was Jesus’ face.

Jesus Heals a Man with a Dreaded Skin Disease

A man suffering from a dreaded skin disease came to Jesus, knelt down, and begged him for help. "If you want to," he said, "you can make me clean." Jesus was filled with pity, and reached out and touched him. "I do want to," he answered. "Be clean!^"At once the disease left the man, and he was clean. Mark 1: 40-43

Research has shown touch reduces anxiety, pain sensitivity and insomnia.  It also increases the possibility of developing a gentle, nonviolent nature and strengthening the immune system.  Why did Jesus touch this man?  I think it was because he wanted him to feel the touch of his family in friends again.  He knew this would heal the feelings of shame and isolation.  But the first person to touch him was Jesus.

The Things That Make a Person Unclean

Then Jesus called the crowd to him once more and said to them, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand. There is nothing that goes into you from the outside which can make you ritually unclean. Rather, it is what comes out of you that makes you unclean.”

When he left the crowd and went into the house, his disciples asked him to explain this saying. “You are no more intelligent than the others,” Jesus said to them. Don't you understand? Nothing that goes into you from the outside can really make you unclean, because it does not go into your heart but into your stomach and then goes on out of the body.  (In saying this, Jesus declared that all foods are fit to be eaten.)

And he went on to say, “It is what comes out of you that makes you unclean. For from the inside, from your heart, come the evil ideas which lead you to do immoral things, to rob, kill, commit adultery, be greedy, and do all sorts of evil things; deceit, indecency, jealousy, slander, pride, and folly—all these evil things come from inside you and make you unclean.”  Mark 7:14-20

Jesus doesn’t come out and heal anyone’s ability to taste or smell food.  But in this passage he lets you know it’s not your stomach you should worry about—it’s your heart.  Not that paying attention to what you eat isn't important.  Foods have been shown to heal as well as harm. 

Jesus Heals a Man with Demons

Jesus and his disciples sailed on over to the territory of Gerasa, which is across the lake from Galilee. As Jesus stepped ashore, he was met by a man from the town who had demons in him. For a long time this man had gone without clothes and would not stay at home, but spent his time in the burial caves. When he saw Jesus, he gave a loud cry, threw himself down at his feet, and shouted, “Jesus, Son of the Most High God! What do you want with me? I beg you, don't punish me!^” He said this because Jesus had ordered the evil spirit to go out of him. Many times it had seized him, and even though he was kept a prisoner, his hands and feet tied with chains, he would break the chains and be driven by the demon out into the desert.

Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”

“My name is Mob,” he answered—because many demons had gone into him. The demons begged Jesus not to send them into the abyss.^[b]

There was a large herd of pigs near by, feeding on a hillside. So the demons begged Jesus to let them go into the pigs, and he let them. They went out of the man and into the pigs. The whole herd rushed down the side of the cliff into the lake and was drowned.

The men who had been taking care of the pigs saw what happened, so they ran off and spread the news in the town and among the farms. People went out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone out sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. Mark 8:26-35

I like to think of this passage as the birth of psychotherapy.  Maybe Christian meditation, too.  Well, and spiritual direction, now that I think of it.  Jesus knew brute force would never subdue what was torturing this man.  Only when the man was able to name the demons inside him was he set free.  This is an example of the mind paying attention to itself.  Sometimes we do this in reflection with a psychotherapist or a spiritual director.  Sometimes we do this in meditation or in the confessional.  However we do it, it frees us from our obsessions and allows us to pay attention to what really matters.

And I think Mark would be very happy if we would all just pay attention.

Seven Pages a Day: Was the Gospel of Mark Written by a Buhddhist?

“When you can assume that your audience holds the same beliefs as you do, you can relax a little and use more normal means of talking to it; when you have to assume that it does not, then you have to make your vision apparent by shock, to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind, you draw large and startling figures.”  Flannery O’Conner, Roman Catholic novelist

When it comes to understanding who wrote the gospel of Mark, I am a Bear of Little Brain.  I tried to figure it out on the internet from—guess what—Wikipedia, and a few other respectable looking sites.  The best I could deduce is that most modern scholars don’t believe Mark, the companion of Peter, wrote it.  But it’s possible he may have written parts of it—at least the oldest parts.  On the other hand, it was probably written around the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70AD. It’s also legitimate to say Mark may have told others the stories which were written down by someone else.  Or maybe several someone elses. 

So let’s just say the Gospel of Mark was written by one or more ghost writers.  It’s Mark’s story, as told by…

I really like the Gospel of Mark.  I always have.  He, whoever he may be, had a way of putting you right at the scene by telling stories of past events using the present tense.  Everything was written with a sense of urgency.  For instance, the phrase “and immediately” occurs forty-two times in Mark, which intensifies the feeling of everything happening right here, right now.  The clean, spare narrative adds to the effect.  It’s as if things were happening so fast, Mark didn’t have time for details.   He was the journalist on the scene, giving a blow-by-blow description of events as they happened.     

But clearly the gospel was written by more than a journalist.  He was also a believer in Jesus.  How else could he have told such outlandish stories—Jesus calming the seas with a word, feeding thousands on a few loaves and fishes, rising from the dead—without batting a lash?

No, I really don’t think Mark was a Buddhist.  That was just to get you to click on the link.  But as I read this Gospel, I started to notice something unique about Mark’s point of view.  Each of the authors of the Gospels has a particular focus.  Matthew wanted to convince his fellow Israelites that Jesus is the promised Messiah.  Luke, who traveled extensively with Paul, wanted the world to know Jesus came for the Gentiles as well. 

Mark, on the other hand, seemed to be writing for everyone and anyone.  He wasn’t writing to impress or persuade a particular group.  However, he was writing to get the reader’s attention, just as Jesus had apparently gotten his attention.   That’s what got me thinking of Buddhism.  According to Buddhism, there are six—not five—senses.  The first five are what we usually think of: hearing, seeing, touching, smelling and tasting.  The sixth sense is the ability to recognize what is going on in that crazy “monkey mind” of yours.  It’s the sense that says, “Pay attention.”  Don’t let your dull, repetitive, boxy, trashy thoughts distract you from what your other five senses are telling you.

When you do that, when you really pay attention, then your other five senses come brilliantly alive, and you are vividly present to your life, to the world, and to what the world is showing you.  This kind of attention makes every moment of life a sacred opportunity for awareness of what is beyond the five senses.  This kind of attention leads you to pray, to meditate, to become aware of the presence of God.  Maybe, I thought as I read, Mark is trying to wake up our sixth sense.  Maybe he is saying, “Pay attention.” 

Having the good sense to pay attention is a gift.  Most of us don’t have it.  It’s been blunted by the “rude noise of the world,” as a priest I once knew put it.  In part two of this reflection on the Gospel of Mark, I want to write about the ways Jesus calls us to prayerful attention through the healing of our senses.  

But you don’t have to wait till then to begin the spiritual work of coming to your senses.  There are several forms of Christian meditation that can help to cultivate a spirit of prayerful attention.  One is called Centering Prayer.  It is briefly described here.  Practice it and see what you think. 

More dust of Rabbi Jesus

I was excited today to hear from the author of "Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus," and to know that I have her blessing as I read and blog about her book. That means a lot to me.
Final thoughts on Chapter 4 and loving your neighbor: When we do not love our neighbors because we say they are unworthy, by fiat we are saying "But I am worthy." Problem is, we're not. None of us.
Thus, treating our enemies with compassion is both difficult and powerful. Definitely not a sign of weakness, as some would have us believe.
Questions at the end of the chapter: Are you more at home worshiping God alone or with others? I would have to answer the latter, as a Catholic. Even though Catholics may seem more alone, even in public worship, I think that's an illusion. And the outward display of community is more obvious now than in the past. I prefer the "we" and "our" but our liturgy is reverting to "I" and "me." Not sure how that will shake out in the end.
Why do we need to live out our faith in a community? Because we need each other. And more importantly, because it is clear from Scripture that our relationships with each other, how we treat each other and how we interact, is indicative of how we relate to God.
I once wrote a column about how we should see Christ in each other and what a better world it would be if we treated others the way we would treat God. I got a reaction to that, a letter to the editor (which I printed, by the way) claiming that I was basically nuts, that if we saw God in each other and behaved accordingly, there would be more violence, more rapes and murders and assaults. I still do not understand what he meant by that.
Other questions at the end of this chapter are more difficult. What kind of neighbor am I, literally, as in relation to the people who actually live next door? Well, I am friendly-ish but do not really know them. We wave but that's about it. We have neighbors elsewhere in the neighborhood, even across the street, with whom we are better acquainted. So I'm not sure really how to answer that question. I'm not sure I am required to become close friends with people just because they happen to live next door. I do not bother them, there's no hostility and I'd help them if they needed it, but that's about it. People I've disliked? I'd have to think on that for awhile. How NOT to love others? Seems obvious. Be disrespectful. Deliberately snub them. Ignore them when they speak to you. Interrupt their conversations as if they were not speaking at all. That sort of thing.
There's another saying that wasn't mentioned in the chapter (and is not scriptural) but seems apt:
To have a friend, be a friend. A variation on the Golden Rule.

Chapter 4, or Who is my neighbor and why should I love him?

This is the first of what might end up being two posts on Chapter 4 of Walking in the Dust of Rabbi Jesus, which I am reading and writing about for Lent. It's a really long chapter, but it contains some very exciting ideas, well, I think they're exciting, as it continues to unpack the lost meanings in the Shema, and other words in the ancient Hebrew language.
This chapter is exploring the idea of loving your neighbor -- something we, in America at least, seem to have a lot of trouble with these days. The opening quote (to give you an idea about what's to come) is this: "In everyone there is something of his fellow man ... Hence, 'love your neighbor' -- for he is really you yourself." (Rabbi Moses Cordovero). I don't know who that rabbi is but he an astute and wise man. We do have a tendency to feel threatened by seeing something of ourselves in someone else, or sometimes we dislike something of ourselves when we see it in someone else. So to cover up that which we dislike in ourselves, we project that trait or habit onto someone else and tear into that person for it. Really dumb, when you think about it.
Jesus told us to love God with your very. Then he told us that another command is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. We take it to mean we should love others in the same way we love ourselves. This book suggest that it may mean something similar, but fundamentally different: We should love others BECAUSE they are like us -- in other words, when we see that reflection of ourselves in someone else, we should love that other person for that very reason. Love each other because of our commonality.
And that is what community is all about, yes?
The early Christians were all about community. They not only gathered together and lived as a community, sharing what they had and helping those who needed it. What is less well known, according to this author, is that they also remained a vital and active part of the greater Jewish community at the same time, worshiping daily in the Temple and maintaining a visible presence in their communities. This enabled them to act as powerful witnesses to what they had received from Jesus, attracting new Christians and growing their new community.
Here's what gets really interesting. It seems that it only took a few centuries for Christians to lose that strong sense of community, replacing it with an emphasis on individual piety and private devotion. By AD 400, apparently, many Christians believed the path to God was a solitary one. This was reflected in the rise of cloistered communities, hermits and such.
We can still see this today in the protestant Christian emphasis on the importance of a "personal relationship with God." In the Catholic church, which is far more community-oriented that many Protestant churches, our new translation for the Nicene Creed reverts to "I believe" after having been recited for decades as "We believe." I felt sad about this the first time I saw it.
In contrast, certain Jewish prayers can only be recited in the presence of a minyan -- a group that contains at least 10 adult Jewish men. Those prayers are framed entirely as "we" and "our" rather than "I" and "my."
But back to the language that's being unpacked. The author was surprised to learn that both "love" commands originate in the Torah, which Jesus was citing when he answered those who questioned him -- Deuteronomy 6:5, to be precise, and Leviticus 19:18. Both share (in the original Hebrew, not in the translations we are familiar with) the word ve'ahavta ("and you shall love"). One of their words requires four of ours to make a comparable statement. What Jesus did, however, was more than simply reciting Scripture (of course). He used a rabbinic rule called gezerah sheva ("a comparison of equals"). These two verses, it seems, share a common word (see above) that's found only in a couple of other places in Scripture, which leads one to assume that one is expanding on the other. Thus, Jesus took it a step further and told us that loving God requires (and is best expressed) through loving our neighbors.
So loving each other is really loving God. (Disclaimer: The following is my own observation and not from the book) This is consistent with something else Jesus said: Whatever you do unto the least of these brethren, you do it to me. (paraphrased). He was referring to such basic kindnesses as feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner, that sort of thing. In other words, the way we treat each other truly reflects the way we would treat God. Or, in more familiar terms, actions speak louder than words. I heard that from my parents a lot when I was growing up. I didn't get it then, but I sure do now.
The next idea in Chapter 4 is the Golden Rule. The Golden Rule takes a slightly different view of the love command: Treat others the way you would like to be treated by them. I think the Golden Rule has been distorted somewhat these days, so that now it's viewed more like "Treat others the way they are treating you." How else can we explain the mean ways people interact these days?
That's enough for today. I'll finish the chapter tonight and maybe post some more on this in the very near future.

Seven Pages a Day: Good News! Paul Chills

If you're new to this blog, for Lent I've decided to read the entire New Testament in 40 days. That means I have to read seven pages a day, which is not as easy a task as it seems. It's a little like eating a 2 lb box of Godiva chocolates every half hour. Not an idea to which I'm wholly opposed, but you can imagine the gastric challenges that might follow.

Well, it's the same with reading big chunks of the Bible quickly.  It's a lot to digest.  It could give you spiritual cramps.

Since last I wrote, I've read seven more letters by Paul. Here are seven brief “book reports” based on them. I bet Jesus gave himself an ulcer worrying about some of the things Paul wrote in his earlier letters. But I have to say, in the end God manages to pull a rabbit out of his hat. Paul finally chills.

Paul had his blind spots, especially regarding homosexuality and the role of women. Unfortunately, his ideas have been taken out of context and used to hurt a great many people. Someday this will change. Until then, we can still appreciate Paul for being an example of the Good News. We are transformed by the people with whom we associate. Paul was transformed by his long, close relationship with God in Christ.

Second Corinthians: “Who’s Your Daddy?” If First Corinthians was about breaking up, this letter is about making up. The Corinthians kicked him to the curb for some glitzy, high-priced evangelists, and now they’re sorry. Paul’s got a thing or two to say about the Joel Osteens of his day. Most of all, he wants to be remembered for who he really is—their father in the faith. You may not like Paul, but if you ever thought he was a wuss, read 2Cor.11: 16-33. Wow! This letter leaves you longing for a sequel.

Galatians: “One Life to Live.” Okay, don’t tell on me, but I used to believe in reincarnation. Well, not really believed in it, but toyed with the possibility. I have a remarkably vivid imagination, so it’s not hard to do. I finally abandoned it, and when I read Galatians, I’m reminded why. When it comes down to it, Paul says, you have to choose. Are you going to cultivate your deification by your own efforts (over one or many lifetimes) or receive it through grace?

Ephesians: “What Happened to Paul?” This letter is filled with advice regarding relationships. Don’t be angry with each other. Care for each other. Serve each other. Obey your parents. Be tender towards your children. It’s a welcome change in tone from the earlier letters to the Romans and Corinthians. You get the sense something rigid in Paul has finally softened. We don’t know what caused the change, but a clue seems to be hidden in the gorgeous words of Ephesians 3:14-20.

Philippians: “The Radiant Letter.” This letter practically glows with all that is “true, noble, right, pure, lovely and honorable”(Phil 4: 8). Although he claims he hasn’t reached the finish line, it’s clear to see Christ has made his home in Paul, and he’s not the same man who started out full of fanatic zeal years before. This letter is by far my favorite. Just reading it will fill your heart with joy and peace.

Colossians: “It's Always Something.” This time it’s a teaching that you have to worship certain spiritual rulers and authorities to get into heaven. So Paul is back to defending the purity of faith from contamination by stuff that makes you go, “Huh?” It may seem picky, picky, picky. But if you read between the lines, it has a lot to say about the difference between faith and superstition, and the dangers of seeking spiritual highs.

First & Second Thessalonians: “He’s Coming Back” & “No, Really. He’s Coming Back.” Apart from some brief comments on Christian conduct and the like, Paul is mainly concerned with correcting the readers’notions regarding the Second Coming of Christ. He reassures them it’s going to happen, and not to worry—they haven’t missed it. Seriously, do you really think you could miss the Second Coming? I mean, aren't the fireworks supposed to be, like, awesome?  Well, apparently the Thessalonians thought they had. These letters are a tad boring, and they'll tempt you to waste all kinds of time trying to figure out the identity of the Wicked One.

As for the Wicked One, your choices are numerous.  After all, it’s the election season.   

Seven Pages a Day: Too Deep for Words

The Spirit pleads with God for us in groans that words cannot express.  Romans 8:26

Those who speak in strange tongues do not speak to others but to God.  I Corinthians 14:2

In reading the first letter of Paul to the Corinthians, I was amazed by how much time he devoted to talking about glossolalia, otherwise known as the gift of speaking in tongues.  Speaking in tongues is a form of glossolalia in which a person utters unintelligible sounds thought to be a sacred language spoken through him or her by God. 

I was introduced to this gift back in the early seventies, when I was in my second year of college.  I’d begun attending a charismatic prayer group called Lamb of God.  They were a group of two hundred or so believers who gathered in the basement of a church to pray, sing worship songs and, when the spirit moved them, break into long periods of “Singing in the Spirit.”

I loved listening to them singing in the Spirit.  Every person sang their own mysterious language in such a way they would all blend into a free-form ecstatic chant.  It was otherworldly, like the singing of Tolkien’s elves.  So when I was invited to attend a seven week seminar which would culminate in being “baptized in the Spirit” (and receiving the gift of tongues), I signed up. 

For six weeks, I met every Tuesday evening for an hour before the prayer meeting with a small group of people.  We sat in desks for school children and listened eagerly to different members of Lamb of God share their experiences of encountering Jesus, being filled with the Spirit, and speaking in tongues.  The stories were inspiring and moving.  I couldn’t wait for the seventh night, when a team of LOG members would pray over me to receive the gift of tongues. 

Well, there’s nothing like performance anxiety when you’ve got three or four people laying their hands on you, babbling up a storm, and expecting you to do the same.  I don’t know what I was expecting.  No wave of ecstasy swept over me.  No ancient words formed in my mind.  I was a blank.  Finally Claire, who had lovely brown eyes that reminded me of a deer, suggested I just start repeating a single syllable.  So I did.  It didn’t take long to get the hang of it, then.  I just began moving from one syllable to another until it sounded like something.  I was always encouraged to believe it was a legitimate language, but I could never quite sell myself on that score.  It sounded to me more like the soothing flow of water over stones.  That was good enough for me.

From that time on, I was able to join in the spiritual singing with the others during the prayer meeting.  I realized then it was not only otherworldly, but put me in a mildly ecstatic trance.  I also discovered something else.   I didn’t think in these terms back then, but I found the main gift of speaking or singing in tongues was the fact it would simply short-circuit my left brain…my thinking, logical, doubting, skeptical, linear, verbal, unimaginative left brain. 

With the short circuiting of the left brain came something else:  access to the imaginative, creative right brain.  Out of that would arise magnificent visions, soulful prayers, encouraging words, prophecies of hope and challenge and healing, like foam cresting on waves of grace.  This was everyone's experience.  At different times during the prayer meeting, one or another person would get up and share what he or she had seen or heard or felt while praying their secret language.  It was beautiful.  We were meeting God in the privacy of our hearts, and sharing it with each other. 

I was given to having visions.  I can still remember a few.  Once I saw purgatory.  I was engulfed in flames along with many others.  It was painful only as long as I held onto whatever was being burned.  Once I’d surrendered my attachment, the pain stopped.  Another time, I saw three women wearing a veil emblazoned with the Franciscan Tau cross.  In retrospect, I wondered if that wasn’t somehow presaging the time I would spend in Little Portion, the Franciscan Lay community founded by John Michael Talbot.  One was very sober.  It was of Pope John Paul II surrounded by military, and being led away.  What that meant was never clear to me.  Perhaps I was becoming sensitive to the way society was beginning to change in its attitude towards matters of religion and faith.  My favorite vision was of a fine, gold ring descending to me from heaven.  It was presented to me as my spiritual wedding ring.  I searched high and low for a ring like the one I saw.  I suppose it's waiting for me across the border.

Of course, the more I write, the more I start to remember others.  Trips across the desert.  Wine-filled chalices.  But like Paul says about these things, the messages that arose from singing in tongues were always very personal to me.  So I rarely shared them.  Like Mary, though, I treasured them.

That was many years ago.   I don’t sing or speak in tongues very often anymore.  When I try, it feels a little like trying to relive my youth.  I was not even twenty then, still riding the high arising from my conversion.  Everything was so new and promising.  I was full of hope, and it filled every unintelligible syllable I uttered.  Now, the sounds feel world weary, full of sorrows, disappointments, pleas for help and healing…and yet, still achingly beautiful. 

I am grateful for the gift of tongues.  It reminds me to take risks, to lose control, to be willing to appear foolish, to make up life as I go along.  Most of all, it reminds me to trust that maybe, just maybe, I can hear the Spirit, who is always praying for me with groans that words cannot express. 

What is your very?

Love is many things -- romantic, reliable, lifesaving, bonding, exciting, calm and relaxed. It means never having to say you're sorry. Well, that's what a book and movie back in the 1960s declared. That book was called "Love Story." I thought the star of that movie, Ali McGraw, was just about the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.
Love is our anchor in life, in more ways than one. We are, ideally, conceived in love. Our parents love us from the beginning, before we are born. As we grow into adolescence, we seek a different kind of love, mostly because of raging hormones, and eventually, if we are lucky, from that fire of romance evolves a more stable, lasting relationship that's also born of love. We also develop friends along the way and there is love in that relationship as well. So, parents, friends, romance and eventually, spouse.
Those are all human relationships. Then there's the greatest love of all. The Hebrews call it hesed -- steadfast, rock-solid faithfulness. We say that God is love, and hesed is the love of God, the love that forgives us as soon as we are truly repentant, time after time, patiently waiting for us to see the error of our ways. It's like the love of the father who welcomed his prodigal son home after he squandered his inheritance in the parable Jesus told his disciples.
It's  a completely unconditional and completely undeserved love. Not "you have to earn my love and respect," but "I love you no matter what and when you come back to me, I'll be waiting with open arms."
And like their word for "hear," the Hebrew hesed is more than just a fluttery feeling in your breast or a warm sense of anticipation while waiting for a phone call or a date with your beloved. It's what the angels do as they eternally contemplate and adore God. It's what God does when he answers our prayers and anticipates our needs.
We are commanded to love the Lord "with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." Actually, that greatest command, Shema, begins with ve'ahavta (veh-a-hav-TAH) which literally means "and you shall love." It's a command, not an observation. We should be lovesick when we think of God, like the 13-year-old whose first "crush" renders him nearly incapable of functioning because his mind wanders back repeatedly and inevitably to the object of that intense emotion -- echad, or the only one. And that only one is God.
I did gain from Chapter 3 some new insight about Christian experience that is not a particularly Catholic thing. Apparently there are "spiritual infatuation addicts" who wander from church to church looking for" the right combination of a tear-evoking message and heart-swelling music to float away in a spiritual euphoria." According to the author, this worshipful ecstasy is referred to as "the feeling" and it becomes all that matters -- not the faith community or any kind of reflection or response to God's word, just a seeking of that euphoria. Like an addict seeks the next high.
No, loving God is more than seeking warm fuzzy feelings or the next spiritual high. It requires an element of loyalty, a response that involves putting aside our own needs to attend to someone else's need (like parenting).
God is loving and forgiving, but also jealous, not inclined to share us with false idols. Loving God means putting him and him alone into the center of our lives. And it means responding to what he gives us, not just sitting back with our hands out waiting for more. So loving your enemy doesn't mean you have to like him, just that you should treat them as you would anyone, with respect and dignity, by praying for them and doing good for them instead of exacting revenge. Now there's a human failing -- revenge. It eats at us, it motivates us to action, but not in a good way.
Why doesn't love motivate us to do good with the kind of intensity that hatred can move us to seek revenge?
And loving God with all your heart? The ancient Hebrews thought of the heart as the center of our very being. So loving God (or a spouse, or child, or anyone else) with all your heart means with loving with everything you've got. That's the title of this post -- your very what? It's just that. The last line of the commandment to love God is: Love the Lord with all of your heart, all of your soul, and all of  your very. The word "very" is rarely used as a noun, but it is in this case. It's all of your might, your zeal, your passion, your oomph.
In Mark, Shema has four components -- heart, soul, mind, and strength. In Matthew, it's three -- heart, soul and mind. That's because Jesus didn't speak Greek, but Hebrew. But the Gospel writers translated into Greek what they understood Jesus to be saying.
Which is what we do today, and which is why there are so many translations of God's word and probably why there are so  many Christian denominations and offshoots.
The next part of Chapter 3 also provided new insight. It spoke of mammon as part of me'od, or "very." Mammon, of course, refers to money and posessions. How do we love God with our money? The assumption is that you use it to meet the needs of those less fortunate, and you use it to support your church. But the author speaks of using your money with integrity. In other words, by pointing out to a sales clerk that she undercharged you, just as you would point out that she overcharged you, and paying the difference. By being honest on your tax returns. By decreasing your bottom line instead of exploiting a questionable financial opportunity. By leaving your contact information on the windshield of the car you accidentally ding in the parking lot. In other words, love God with your money by being honest, using it wisely and not cheating anyone or exploiting others to their detriment and your benefit.
The chapter also talks about how Jewish scholars memorize the entire Torah, an overwhelming task by any standard. But the author points out that most of us can rattle off lyrics for thousands of pop songs, commercials and other nonsense in a volume that may not be exactly equivalent, but comparable. Which says embarrassing things about what our priorities are today. In fact, it's remarkably close to the message we heard at our parish mission last week about giving up distractions to focus on what's important.
Giving up distractions? Isn't that why we celebrate Lent in the first place?