21st Sunday in Ordinary Time: Jesus' Identity - "Test" or "Quest"?

In the last fifty years there has been a search in scripture circles called the "quest" for the "historical Jesus." This basically means that scripture scholars have been attempting to piece together a portrait of the Lord that is as historically accurate as possible. Many of us might say to ourselves, "Duh! Simply go to the Gospels!" As common sensical as this might seem, it isn't quite that easy! If you read the Gospels one after the other, you'll very quickly arrive at the conclusion that they aren't in perfect agreement with all the details surrounding Jesus' life. The reason why they aren't in perfect agreement is because the Gospels aren't historical documents as much as they are testimonies of faith in Jesus. This doesn't mean they don't report historical facts about the Lord, but they do much more than this. They basically relate who Jesus was and what his message meant to the people of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John's communities. This therefore makes the "quest" for the historical Jesus not as straightforward as one might think!


The quest for Jesus didn't begin with 20th century scripture scholars, nor did it begin with Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. It began, as a matter of fact, with Jesus himself! Now, I know what you might be thinking: Jesus knew exactly who he was from very early on and it was just a matter of everyone else finding this out! The problem that this poses, however, is that no human person can come into an absolutely precise awareness of his/her identity without the aid of others. No one is born with a script! To suggest that Jesus was born with one undercuts his humanity and sets him far above those of us mere mortals who have to struggle day in and out with the basic and gut-wrenching question of, "who am I?" and "what does my life mean?"


In today's Gospel Jesus poses a question to the apostles: "who do you say that I am?" (Mt. 16:15). One way to approach this question is to assume that it was a test of faith for the apostles. Either they "get it" or "they don't." However, what if this question was also a test for Jesus? Certainly Jesus was tested: he spent 40 days out in the desert prior to beginning his public ministry being tempted by the devil (Mt. 4:1-11). In putting the question to the apostles, "who do you say that I am?" Jesus may very well be looking for an affirmation of what he has long since suspected: he is the anointed one of God and the Son of Man who will ultimately lay down his life for his friends. Why is this a test of faith? It's a test of faith because once the disciples affirm what he suspects, there is no going back. It's one thing to have private beliefs about one's identity, it's quite another to have that identity reflected and affirmed in the eyes of another. Once something like this transpires, than you become accountable to someone else's beliefs about you.


This weekend I saw the movie, The Help. It tells the story of a young, aspiring, white journalist nicknamed "Skeeter" who dares to "go out on a limb" to tell the story of black maids in segregated Mississippi immediately prior to the Civil Rights Movement. However, to tell the story of the maids, she has to find some who are willing to venture out on the same precarious limb. Skeeter initially meets with resistance by many maids who are understandably afraid for their welfare. However, after hearing an inspiring sermon at a Church service, one of the maids named Abileen decides to put her faith into action by telling her story. Soon thereafter, other maids come forward to tell their story. In a very real sense, by telling their stories these maids were posing the question, "who do you say that I am?" to one another, to Skeeter, and, indeed, to the entire U.S. society. The entire movie is really a profound parable about the quest for identity, dignity, and solidarity. The movie The Help illustrates very much what today's Gospel does: to arrive at an appreciation of who we are and what our life's meaning is, we must risk ourselves by asking the question, "who do you say that I am?' and allowing the answer to be reflected and affirmed in the eyes of others. Pat

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time: The Whispering Wind That Coaxes Us From Our Caves

First Kings, 19:9-13 tells the story of how the prophet Elijah, "on the lamb" and running from his persecutors, tucks himself safely away in a cave at "God's Holy Mountain" (Horeb). While taking refuge, God comes-a-searching for him and asks, "why are you here, Elijah?"After Elijah issues his chief complaint (namely that the Israelites are seeking to take his life), God tells Elijah to prepare to meet him outside of the cave. A strong and heavy wind passed by, crushing rocks to smithereens, but it wasn't God's calling card. Next an earthquake rattled Elijah's cavernous cage - but still no God (apparently, tumults aren't God's style!) Than a fire erupted - but still, no God. Finally, the tiniest "whispering wind" softly swept by the mouth of the cave. It was this that announced to Elijah the presence of the Lord of Hosts. When Elijah came to the mouth of the cave, again God asked him, "Elijah, why are you here?"


What stands out about this, "thick-with-implications-about-God's-revelation" exchange with Elijah are two things, one obvious and one not-so-obvious. Let's start with the obvious: God doesn't announce God's presence in an impressive, awe-inspiring manner in order to put Elijah at ease and dispel the difficulty. Now on to the not-so-obvious: God asks Elijah the question, "why are you here?" twice in the space of only four verses. Interestingly enough, Elijah responds with the exact same answer to God's question both times: "I have been most zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they seek to take my life." It's important to note that earlier in Chapter 19, Elijah nearly gives up by laying under a broom tree and praying for death. Therefore, if we read between the lines of Elijah's response, we could rightly discern a tone of incredulity and the implied question of, "why don't you do anything and why am I struggling for my life?"


Elijah may very well be speaking to the guttural, primordial question that has tormented the human heart for time immemorial: "why doesn't God do anything and why do we have to struggle so hard for life?" The answer to this angst-laden question really isn't the direction or "moral" of the story (no matter how much Elijah, or we, would like an answer!). The key to unlocking the importance of this story and what it says about God and humanity has less to do with addressing the question of "why" and, rather, considering the issue of "where." When God asks the question, "why are you here?" God isn't interested in the reasons Elijah has for hiding in the cave, God is really asking Elijah, "why the heck are you in a cave at all!" Very little, if anything, can be resolved from inside a cave!


There are many and varied reasons for why we may want to hide in our "caves" and pose the circular, never-ending question of "why" with regard to so much suffering and struggling that beset our lives and world. However, God knows full well that the most difficult questions about life cannot be addressed in isolation and seclusion. So, what does God do when we withdraw? God coaxes us from our caves with the whispering wind of the Spirit who nudges us softly, gently, but firmly into the truth that the most difficult questions of life are meant to be grappled with in the light of day and in partnership with others. Pat