A Solitary Egg
November 18, 2007, 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time
Malachi 3:19-20 II Thessalonians 3:7-12 Luke 21:5-11, 25-28
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
Gospel
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
While some people were speaking about how the temple was adorned with costly stones and votive offerings, Jesus said, "All that you see here--the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down."Then they asked him, "Teacher, when will this happen?And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?" He answered, "See that you not be deceived, for many will come in my name, saying, 'I am he,’ and 'The time has come.’ Do not follow them! When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end." Then he said to them, "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.
There will be signs in the sun, the moon and the stars. On earth, whole countries will be in despair afraid of the roar of the sea and the raging tides. Men will faint from fear as they wait for what is coming over the whole earth, for the powers in space will be driven from their courses. Then the Son of Man will appear, coming in a cloud with great power and glory. When these things begin to happen, stand up and raise your heads, because your salvation is near.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
End Time readings (Apocalypses)
On December 31, the Western World ends its old year. On this 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, the church sounds the ending of her liturgical year with End Time readings, sometimes called Apocalypses. An apocalypse is a literary form, which appeared two centuries before and three centuries after Christ. You write an apocalypse in the face of hopelessly depressing news like the casualty count in Iraq or the peaking price of gas and healthcare or the empty promises of people who want to be the next president of the USA.
At first glance, an apocalypse seems to paint a foreboding picture of the End Time:
There will be signs in the sun, the moon and the stars.
On earth, whole countries will be in despair
afraid of the roar of the sea and the raging tides.
Men will faint from fear as they wait
for what is coming over the whole earth;
for the powers in space will be driven from their courses.
(Lk21:25-26)
At second glance, an apocalypse is not about destruction and annihilation but about consummation:
Then the Son of Man will appear,
coming in a cloud with great power and glory.
When these things begin to happen,
stand up and raise your heads,
because your salvation is near at hand.”(Lk 21:27-28)
An apocalypse is about a consummation which will put an end to all the hopelessly depressing news and will fix, once and for all, what we cannot fix for ourselves. It is about a consummation which will wipe away all tears from our eyes and put an end to all crying and dying (Rev 21:4).
Advent ahead
Next Sunday the church will celebrate the feast of Christ the King as a grand finale to her liturgical year. The Sunday after that will be New Year’s Day in the church with the arrival of the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2007. Cathedral Square has already constructed a towering Christmas tree to lighten up a world darkened by the war in Iraq, the price of gas at the pump and the need of presidential contenders for 2008 to tear each other down.
Faithful Thanksgiving
On the Thursday between this 33rd Sunday which speaks to us of the End Time and the 34th Sunday which crowns the liturgical year of 2007 with a feast in honor of Christ the King, the nation will celebrate Thanksgiving. That’s the nation’s most popular feast. It’s also the nation’s purest feast. Unlike Christmas and Easter which have gone astray, Thanksgiving has remained faithful to an original inspiration: giving thanks at the family table. Thanksgiving still sends us all hastening over the river and through the woods to the family table. At Thanksgiving sons and daughters, brothers and sisters (scattered all over the country) crowd our airways and highways, as they hurry home, uncluttered with any other gift but themselves.
At one time they couldn’t fly the coop fast enough. Now they can’t wait to get back, momentarily at least, to the nest called home. There they find warmth and welcome in a cold world. There they find encouragement and affirmation in a dog-eat-dog world. There they do not have to pay for every last thing, because grace and gift abound at home. There they do not have to prove anything because they are loved, even though family knows them very well.
Thanksgiving does not gather us around the family table to give thanks for high-tech toys like ipods, iphones, gps, play-stations, plasma TV, etc. It gathers us to give thanks for the basics of life – like family and friends, a roof over our heads, a warm bed to sleep in, food aplenty to eat, good health and tender loving care when we are ill. Thanksgiving is still faithful even to the very menu itself: turkey (whether you like it or not), cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and sweet potatoes.
A mystic approach to holidays
Garrison Keillor, author of Lake Wobegon, tells of the great Thanksgiving feasts spent at his grandparents' farm. He speaks of the piping-hot kitchen stove, of the steaming pots and pans, of the heavenly aromas of pies and pudding, and of turkeys and trimmings. The kids were all turned lose into the snow outside, and were not allowed in until the turkey and its entourage were ready. Once when they were waiting to be admitted into the heavenly warm and aromatic banquet hall, all the kids huddled together in an old farm car, and there sang sad songs. At this Keillor makes a mystic observation: "It is sorrow and sadness that make the holiday." Not joy and gladness but sorrow and sadness make the holiday. That, indeed, is mystical.
It was sorrow and sadness that made Thanksgiving and Christmas for Jane Nook, a Presbyterian missionary in India. In a United Presbyterian magazine she wrote,
Once I was in a remote village of India and the congregation was gathered in a schoolroom for worship. From one wall, a faded picture of Gandhi smiled down benignly. There was no minister. The schoolteacher read the Scriptures and led in the long, long Tamil hymns. At the end of the service, there was a stir in the rear of the room and a young woman slipped forward -- a girl she was really - - thin and shy. She carried a tiny baby, surely not more than a day old. As she approached the battered desk that served as an altar table, she reached into the folds of her sari and drew out an egg. With utmost care, she laid it on the table and bowed her head. "For the birth of her child," whispered the teacher to me. "It's her thank-offering to God."
An egg! Not a coin, but a life-sustaining egg! The diet of the Indian villager is notoriously deficient in protein. This woman needs this egg, I thought. In the economy of her village, this one egg costs a woman like her about three hours on the road or in the fields. Even if she is lucky enough to own hens, she sells their few eggs and buys rice to fill the stomachs of her family.
Conclusion
A solitary egg
That missionary lady continued,
So this holiday season as we prepare our 18 pound turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, peas, cranberry sauce and mincemeat pie at Thanksgiving; as we festoon the trees with tinsel and lights or wearily shop for gifts or scowl at the assault of canned Christmas carols on our ears [or stampede the shopping malls to get our hands on the latest toy retailing at $500.00] I shall remember a solitary egg (A.D. Magazine for Dec. 1974)!
1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
God and Man Resurrected from the Dead
God and Man Resurrected from the Dead
November 11, 2007, 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time
2Maccabees 7: 1-2, 9-14 2Thessalonians 2:16-3:5 Luke 20:27, 34-38
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
First reading
It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God's law. One of the brothers, speaking for the others, exclaimed, “What are you trying to find out from us? We are prepared to die rather than break the law of our ancestors.” The king had him put to death by means of indescribable torture. The king and his men inflicted the same torture upon a second son who exclaimed with his last breath, “Inhuman tyrant, you might send us from this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up to live again for ever, since it is for his laws that we die.” Then they tortured a third son who exclaimed, “It was heaven that gave me these limbs; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.’” Then the king and his men tortured a fourth son. As he was about to expire he exclaimed “Ours is the better choice, to meet death at men’s hands, yet relying on God’s promise that we shall be raised up by him. For you, however; there can be no resurrection to new life.”
Gospel
Then some Sadducees, who do not believe in the resurrection of the dead, came to Jesus. He said to them, "As to your question—whether or not there is a resurrection—why even the writing of Moses himself prove this. For when he describes how God appeared to him in the burning bush, he speaks of God as being the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob, as though they were alive. He does not speak of God as having been the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob, as though they were dead. So to say that the Lord is some person’s God means that person is alive, not dead. From God’s point of view, all men are living.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Dead sure
The Maccabees brothers were dead sure that God would raise them up on the last day. The Sadducees, on the other hand, were dead sure that God does not raise the dead up on the last day. By a kind of convoluted thought process, Jesus proved the resurrection to the Sadducees by reminding them that the writings of Moses speak of God not as having been but as being the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. That bit of convolution proved to the Sadducees that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were not dead but alive.
Eventually we all wonder about resurrection from the dead. We do not wonder about it when we are young. We do wonder about it when we are 82 years old and are living on borrowed time. After 82 years, I, too, have developed a convoluted approach to the question of the dead rising. When God is dead for us, then it is difficult (in fact, impossible) for the heart and mind to be believe in a dead God raising up dead people. When, however, God is alive for us, then it is easier for the heart and mind to believe in a living God raising up our loved ones and us from the dead on the last day.
A dead God
”God is dead” was the fashionable cry of a group of philosophers in the middle of the 20th century. They were called The Death of God Theologians. As a theological movement it did not attract a large following nor did it find a unified expression. It passed on as quickly and dramatically as it had arisen. The expression "God is dead" is a famous quote from the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. It first appeared in his book The Cheerful Science. In section 125 of that work he wrote, “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves -- the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves.”
God murdered by religious people
Who are the murderers of God? A man going from Jerusalem to Jericho was waylaid by robbers and was left dying by the side of the road. Along came a Jewish priest and a Levite. With monstrous inhumanity and indifference they passed the poor man by, leaving him to die by the side of the road. Those religious people, precisely because they were religious, effectively murdered God for that poor man and made it quite impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
God murdered by Nazis
Who are the murderers of God? Perhaps no other event of the 20th Century and perhaps of all recorded human history so murdered God as did the Holocaust. In fact, the Holocaust was a powerful factor in the sudden rise of the Death of God Theologians in the 1960s. In his book entitled Night, Jewish author Elie Weisel writes of his first night in the concentration camp of Buchenwald. There he saw the bodies of little children going up in smoke from the crematories. “That was the night,” he writes, “which murdered my God and my soul, and turned my dreams into dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never!" The German Nazis had murdered God for Elie Weisel and made it impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
God murdered by ritualists
Who are the murderers of God? Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, masterfully describes the deadly day of his first Holy Communion which was supposed to be a great moment in his young and bourgeoning religious life.
I awaited the day with eager anticipation, and the day finally dawned. There behind the altar stood my father in his familiar robes. He read prayers from the liturgy. On the white cloth covering the altar lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread which came from the local baker whose goods were nothing to brag about. I watched my father eat a piece of the bread and then sip the wine which came from the local tavern. He then passed the cup to one of the old men. All were stiff, solemn, and it seemed to me uninterested. I looked on in suspense, but could not see nor guess whether anything unusual was going on inside the old men... I saw no sadness and no joy. Then came my turn to eat the bread which tasted flat, and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer, the people all pealed out, neither depressed nor illumined with joy; rather their faces seemed to say, “Well, that’s that." In a minute or two the whole church was emptied.
Only gradually in the course of the following days did it dawn on me that nothing had happened. In addition, I found myself saying, "Why, that is not religion at all. It is an absence of God; the church is a place I should not go to. It is not life which is there, but death" (Memories, Dreams, Reflections).
The day of his very first Holy Communion proved fatal for Jung; it proved to be the day of his very last Holy Communion! Those rote ritualists with their passionless prayers and ho-hum homilies murdered God for Jung and made it impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by a Samaritan
It is man who murders God and puts Him in the grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. A man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and was waylaid by robbers and left half-dead. Along came a Jewish priest and a Levite. With monstrous cruelty and indifference they passed him, and thereby murdered God for the poor man. But along came a Samaritan who stopped to pour the oil of compassion in his wounds, then hoisted the man’s dead weight upon his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest end where he paid for his care and cure. The Samaritan raised up a dead God murdered by a Jewish priest and Levite, and made it possible for the poor man to believe that a living God would raise him up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by a priest
It is man who murders God and puts Him in his grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. On 9/11, Usama bin Laden murdered God for New York City and put Him in his grave. On 9/11 Franciscan priest, Fr. Mycal Judge, raised God from the dead. Judge was one of four chaplains for the New York Fire Department. The story of his death in the line of duty was one of the first to come out of that apocalyptic event. Almost immediately legend sprung up around his death. He had taken his helmet off to give the last rites to a dying fireman when suddenly debris came crashing down upon him. He died there on the spot, and his body was carried off to a nearby church, and there was laid upon the altar.
Mychal had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani. Though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the city, he lived on an entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers. He was non-acquisitive. He was non-grabby. He was utterly unselfish and uncomplaining. No wonder then that his entire funeral was televised from start to end. And when they held a memorial service for him, an endless flow of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle age couples from the suburbs streamed into Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave in Manhattan, an Anglican church, to do a memorial for a Roman Catholic priest.
For New Yorkers Fr. Mychal raised up a God murdered by 911, and made it possible for them to believe again in a living God who would raise them up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by lively liturgists
It is man who murders God and puts Him in his grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. Karl Jung speaking of the lethal liturgy of his first Holy Communion, writes, “Why, that is not religion at all. It is an absence of God; the church is a place I should not go to. It is not life which is there, but death." Listen to a remarkable e-mail account of a living liturgy which was a whole light year away from Jung’s lethal liturgy
"My husband and I were in Milwaukee for the weekend on a getaway from Indianapolis. We spent our first trip together in your city five years ago and returned for a much-needed vacation. We have a three year old and suffered a miscarriage at 12 weeks in July. We needed some time to get away and celebrate each other and heal from our loss. It was a very therapeutic trip for us which ended in a fabulous experience at your beautiful church. We had walked the streets of Milwaukee and passed by your gorgeous church and decided to celebrate mass with you on Sunday. We had intended to get up for the 9am mass as going to the 10 am would put us on the road a bit later with the time change back to Indy. I insisted with my husband that we attend your church instead of waiting to go in the evening at home. I truly feel it was God’s will that we celebrated with you at Old Saint Mary’s."
"I so enjoyed the service. Father was absolutely fabulous, his sermon was out of this world, the choir was phenomenal, the lector was dynamic and the beauty of your church was just so stunning. It was a pivotal moment for us, especially me. I lighted a candle after Mass for our lost baby and I am looking forward with hope to our family’s future. I know now that God has bigger plans for our family – bigger than we even realize and I know we are blessed. Gratefully…. “
That indeed is a whole light year away from Jung’s lethal liturgy which dismissed a crowd with faces which were neither depressed nor illumined with joy, but which simply seemed to say, “Well, that’s that!” If that woman’s God was for the moment murdered by her miscarriage, lively liturgists of celebrant, homilist, choir and lectors raised Him up from the dead for her, and made it easier for her to believe in a living God who would raise up her little angel and her on the last day.
Conclusion
A favor repaid
Friedrich Nietzsche said that God is dead, and that He was murdered by man. He’s right. The Jewish priest and Levite murdered God for the poor man dying on the road to Jericho, when they passed right by him. The Nazis murdered God for Elie Weisel’s in the concentration camp of Buchenwald. The ritualists murdered God for Jung on the day of his first Holy Communion.
Nietzsche also said that God is dead and remains dead. There he is dead wrong! God does not remain dead, for the Good Samaritans and the Mychal Judges and the lively liturgists of this world bring God back to life. And God, whom man has brought back to life, promises in return to bring man back to life on the last day.
1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It has now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
November 11, 2007, 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time
2Maccabees 7: 1-2, 9-14 2Thessalonians 2:16-3:5 Luke 20:27, 34-38
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
First reading
It happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God's law. One of the brothers, speaking for the others, exclaimed, “What are you trying to find out from us? We are prepared to die rather than break the law of our ancestors.” The king had him put to death by means of indescribable torture. The king and his men inflicted the same torture upon a second son who exclaimed with his last breath, “Inhuman tyrant, you might send us from this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up to live again for ever, since it is for his laws that we die.” Then they tortured a third son who exclaimed, “It was heaven that gave me these limbs; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.’” Then the king and his men tortured a fourth son. As he was about to expire he exclaimed “Ours is the better choice, to meet death at men’s hands, yet relying on God’s promise that we shall be raised up by him. For you, however; there can be no resurrection to new life.”
Gospel
Then some Sadducees, who do not believe in the resurrection of the dead, came to Jesus. He said to them, "As to your question—whether or not there is a resurrection—why even the writing of Moses himself prove this. For when he describes how God appeared to him in the burning bush, he speaks of God as being the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob, as though they were alive. He does not speak of God as having been the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob, as though they were dead. So to say that the Lord is some person’s God means that person is alive, not dead. From God’s point of view, all men are living.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Dead sure
The Maccabees brothers were dead sure that God would raise them up on the last day. The Sadducees, on the other hand, were dead sure that God does not raise the dead up on the last day. By a kind of convoluted thought process, Jesus proved the resurrection to the Sadducees by reminding them that the writings of Moses speak of God not as having been but as being the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. That bit of convolution proved to the Sadducees that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were not dead but alive.
Eventually we all wonder about resurrection from the dead. We do not wonder about it when we are young. We do wonder about it when we are 82 years old and are living on borrowed time. After 82 years, I, too, have developed a convoluted approach to the question of the dead rising. When God is dead for us, then it is difficult (in fact, impossible) for the heart and mind to be believe in a dead God raising up dead people. When, however, God is alive for us, then it is easier for the heart and mind to believe in a living God raising up our loved ones and us from the dead on the last day.
A dead God
”God is dead” was the fashionable cry of a group of philosophers in the middle of the 20th century. They were called The Death of God Theologians. As a theological movement it did not attract a large following nor did it find a unified expression. It passed on as quickly and dramatically as it had arisen. The expression "God is dead" is a famous quote from the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. It first appeared in his book The Cheerful Science. In section 125 of that work he wrote, “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves -- the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves.”
God murdered by religious people
Who are the murderers of God? A man going from Jerusalem to Jericho was waylaid by robbers and was left dying by the side of the road. Along came a Jewish priest and a Levite. With monstrous inhumanity and indifference they passed the poor man by, leaving him to die by the side of the road. Those religious people, precisely because they were religious, effectively murdered God for that poor man and made it quite impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
God murdered by Nazis
Who are the murderers of God? Perhaps no other event of the 20th Century and perhaps of all recorded human history so murdered God as did the Holocaust. In fact, the Holocaust was a powerful factor in the sudden rise of the Death of God Theologians in the 1960s. In his book entitled Night, Jewish author Elie Weisel writes of his first night in the concentration camp of Buchenwald. There he saw the bodies of little children going up in smoke from the crematories. “That was the night,” he writes, “which murdered my God and my soul, and turned my dreams into dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never!" The German Nazis had murdered God for Elie Weisel and made it impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
God murdered by ritualists
Who are the murderers of God? Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, masterfully describes the deadly day of his first Holy Communion which was supposed to be a great moment in his young and bourgeoning religious life.
I awaited the day with eager anticipation, and the day finally dawned. There behind the altar stood my father in his familiar robes. He read prayers from the liturgy. On the white cloth covering the altar lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread which came from the local baker whose goods were nothing to brag about. I watched my father eat a piece of the bread and then sip the wine which came from the local tavern. He then passed the cup to one of the old men. All were stiff, solemn, and it seemed to me uninterested. I looked on in suspense, but could not see nor guess whether anything unusual was going on inside the old men... I saw no sadness and no joy. Then came my turn to eat the bread which tasted flat, and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer, the people all pealed out, neither depressed nor illumined with joy; rather their faces seemed to say, “Well, that’s that." In a minute or two the whole church was emptied.
Only gradually in the course of the following days did it dawn on me that nothing had happened. In addition, I found myself saying, "Why, that is not religion at all. It is an absence of God; the church is a place I should not go to. It is not life which is there, but death" (Memories, Dreams, Reflections).
The day of his very first Holy Communion proved fatal for Jung; it proved to be the day of his very last Holy Communion! Those rote ritualists with their passionless prayers and ho-hum homilies murdered God for Jung and made it impossible for him to believe that his God, who was dead, was going to raise him up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by a Samaritan
It is man who murders God and puts Him in the grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. A man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and was waylaid by robbers and left half-dead. Along came a Jewish priest and a Levite. With monstrous cruelty and indifference they passed him, and thereby murdered God for the poor man. But along came a Samaritan who stopped to pour the oil of compassion in his wounds, then hoisted the man’s dead weight upon his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest end where he paid for his care and cure. The Samaritan raised up a dead God murdered by a Jewish priest and Levite, and made it possible for the poor man to believe that a living God would raise him up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by a priest
It is man who murders God and puts Him in his grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. On 9/11, Usama bin Laden murdered God for New York City and put Him in his grave. On 9/11 Franciscan priest, Fr. Mycal Judge, raised God from the dead. Judge was one of four chaplains for the New York Fire Department. The story of his death in the line of duty was one of the first to come out of that apocalyptic event. Almost immediately legend sprung up around his death. He had taken his helmet off to give the last rites to a dying fireman when suddenly debris came crashing down upon him. He died there on the spot, and his body was carried off to a nearby church, and there was laid upon the altar.
Mychal had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani. Though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the city, he lived on an entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers. He was non-acquisitive. He was non-grabby. He was utterly unselfish and uncomplaining. No wonder then that his entire funeral was televised from start to end. And when they held a memorial service for him, an endless flow of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle age couples from the suburbs streamed into Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave in Manhattan, an Anglican church, to do a memorial for a Roman Catholic priest.
For New Yorkers Fr. Mychal raised up a God murdered by 911, and made it possible for them to believe again in a living God who would raise them up on the last day.
A murdered God raised up by lively liturgists
It is man who murders God and puts Him in his grave. However, it is also man who raises God from the dead. Karl Jung speaking of the lethal liturgy of his first Holy Communion, writes, “Why, that is not religion at all. It is an absence of God; the church is a place I should not go to. It is not life which is there, but death." Listen to a remarkable e-mail account of a living liturgy which was a whole light year away from Jung’s lethal liturgy
"My husband and I were in Milwaukee for the weekend on a getaway from Indianapolis. We spent our first trip together in your city five years ago and returned for a much-needed vacation. We have a three year old and suffered a miscarriage at 12 weeks in July. We needed some time to get away and celebrate each other and heal from our loss. It was a very therapeutic trip for us which ended in a fabulous experience at your beautiful church. We had walked the streets of Milwaukee and passed by your gorgeous church and decided to celebrate mass with you on Sunday. We had intended to get up for the 9am mass as going to the 10 am would put us on the road a bit later with the time change back to Indy. I insisted with my husband that we attend your church instead of waiting to go in the evening at home. I truly feel it was God’s will that we celebrated with you at Old Saint Mary’s."
"I so enjoyed the service. Father was absolutely fabulous, his sermon was out of this world, the choir was phenomenal, the lector was dynamic and the beauty of your church was just so stunning. It was a pivotal moment for us, especially me. I lighted a candle after Mass for our lost baby and I am looking forward with hope to our family’s future. I know now that God has bigger plans for our family – bigger than we even realize and I know we are blessed. Gratefully…. “
That indeed is a whole light year away from Jung’s lethal liturgy which dismissed a crowd with faces which were neither depressed nor illumined with joy, but which simply seemed to say, “Well, that’s that!” If that woman’s God was for the moment murdered by her miscarriage, lively liturgists of celebrant, homilist, choir and lectors raised Him up from the dead for her, and made it easier for her to believe in a living God who would raise up her little angel and her on the last day.
Conclusion
A favor repaid
Friedrich Nietzsche said that God is dead, and that He was murdered by man. He’s right. The Jewish priest and Levite murdered God for the poor man dying on the road to Jericho, when they passed right by him. The Nazis murdered God for Elie Weisel’s in the concentration camp of Buchenwald. The ritualists murdered God for Jung on the day of his first Holy Communion.
Nietzsche also said that God is dead and remains dead. There he is dead wrong! God does not remain dead, for the Good Samaritans and the Mychal Judges and the lively liturgists of this world bring God back to life. And God, whom man has brought back to life, promises in return to bring man back to life on the last day.
1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It has now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Hobnobbing and Eating with Sinners
Hobnobbing and Eating with Sinners
November 4, 2007, 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time
Wisdom 11:22-12:2 II Thessalonians 1:11-2:2 Luke 19:1-10
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
At that time, Jesus came to Jericho and intended to pass through the town. Now a man there named Zacchaeus, who was the chief tax collector in Jericho and a very wealthy man, was trying to get a glimpse of Jesus, but he couldn’t because of the crowds, for he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus passing by. Drawing near, Jesus called up to him, saying, "Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for I would like to eat supper with you tonight.” He came down quickly and received Jesus into his house with great joy. When the crowds saw this, they were displeased and began to grumble, saying, "He has gone to be a guest at the house of a notorious sinner." But Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Sir, from now on I will give half my wealth to the poor, and if I have overcharged anyone on his taxes, I will penalize myself by giving him back four times as much.” And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house. This man was one of the lost sons of Abraham, and I, the Son of Man, have come to search for and save such souls as his."
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
The secular and liturgical calendar
On the secular calendar the first Sunday of November directs us to put an end to saving time and to switch back to God’s time. Though it’s November already, an honest-to-God frost hasn’t hit us yet in Wisconsin. The cool evenings are splashing the geraniums (fall’s last hold-outs) with deep hues, in a kind of swan song to summer 2007. Soon the first dusting of snow will evoke the emotions of the great feasts ahead. Soon it will be over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go for Thanksgiving. After that we'll be dreaming of a white Christmas.
On our liturgical calendar November 1 is always the feast of all the saints who are hobnobbing and eating with each other in the Banquet of Eternal Life. Some scholars think the feast was originally an old Irish observance which spread to England and finally to Rome in the late 11th century. On All Saints we “rejoice in all the holy men and women of every time and place” (opening prayer of the day). That’s a multitude which no one can count (Rev 7:9). That’s a multitude which not even the church can adequately count with her official list of canonized saints, for the best of the saints have not and never will be canonized.
Jesus hobnobbing with sinners
Last week Jesus told a parable about a tax collector who with a Pharisee went up to the temple to pray. Tax collectors were Jews who extracted taxes from fellow Jews for Romans occupying their land. They were not only traitors but often also extortionists and cheats. That’s why the New Testament always mentions tax collectors in the same breath with sinners. They were all bunched together and considered to be bad guys. But the tax collector in Jesus’ parable last Sunday was a nice fellow. When he got up to pray he bent low to the ground where humility gets its humus and beseeched God to be merciful to him a sinner. He went home that night set right with God (Lk 18:9-14).
Last Sunday’s story about a tax collector was a parable. Today’s story is about a tax collector whom Jesus personally encountered. He, too, was a nice fellow. His name was Zacchaeus. He was not just a tax collector, he was the chief tax collector (chief sinner) in Jericho.” But he was short in stature, and small guys don’t do well in big crowds. So he climbed a sycamore tree to get a glimpse of Jesus passing by. When the Lord saw him, he called up to him, “Hurry down, Zacchaeus, for I’d like to eat supper with you in your house tonight.” The tax collector (overcome either with guilt or gratitude or both) found himself promising the Lord to give half his belongings to the poor, and if he had cheated anyone on his taxes, he promised to pay him back four times as much. But some in the crowds became indignant and grumbled saying, “Look at this fellow Jesus! He hobnobs and eats with a notorious sinner.”
On another occasion Jesus saw another tax collector (sinner, that is) named Matthew, not up in a sycamore tree but sitting at a tax collector’s booth. Though he was a tax collector, he, too, was a nice fellow. Jesus invited Matthew to follow Him, and Matthew in turn invited Jesus to dine at his house. There many other tax collectors and sinners joined Jesus and his disciples at table. Some of the Pharisees saw this and became indignant and grumbled. They asked the disciples how is it that their master hobnobs and eats with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus silenced them saying, “People who are healthy don’t need a doctor, but sick people do. Go and learn the meaning of the scripture which says, `It’s compassion that I want from you people, not your animal sacrifices’” (Mt 9: 9-13).
A church hobnobbing with saints only
Many of us are old enough to remember the days when the church declined to hobnob and eat with sinners. It’s hard to imagine now but before Vatican II all sinners were excluded from the Eucharistic Banquet. And that meant almost everyone was excluded. When Communion time came, only a handful out of a packed congregation would rise to Communicate. Only those who had gone to sacramental confession and had themselves absolved into a state of Sanctifying Grace rose to take Communion. They were, indeed, a mere handful. The bulk of the Sunday congregation, who considered themselves sinners (i.e. in the state of mortal sin), were excluded from the Communion rail.
All that suddenly changed! Now, after Vatican II, at Communion time the whole congregation (almost none of whom has gone to sacramental confession) rises to Communicate. Now, after Vatican II, the Eucharist is seen more as food for sinners than a reward for saints. What has changed? A perspective has changed. If Jesus can eat with Zacchaeus, chief tax collector and sinner, and with Matthew, another tax collector and sinner, then we sinners can eat with Jesus! We wonder why it took so long to lay hold of that perspective, for it’s a thread woven into the whole fabric of the New Testament.
A pope hobnobbing with sinners
On Oct 27, 1986 Pope John Paul II invited the world’s religious leaders to assembly with him in Assisi (the hometown of St. Francis, a great man of peace) to summit and pray with the pope for peace in the world. Muslims, Buddhists, Shintoists, Jews, Sikhs, Zoroastrians and American Indians came from the four corners of the earth and descended upon the little town nestled on the western slope of an Umbrian hill. Time Magazine (Nov. 10, 1986) called it "super!" Carl McIntire, a religious fundamentalist and gadfly, labeled the meeting "the greatest single abomination in church history." He accused the Pope of hobnobbing and praying with sinners![i]
A priest hobnobbing with sinners
Franciscan priest, Fr. Mycal Judge, was one of four chaplains for the New York Fire Department. The story of his death in the line of duty was one of the first to come out of the tragedy of September 11th. Almost immediately legend sprung up around his death. He had taken his helmet off to give the last rites to a dying fireman when suddenly debris came crashing down upon him. He died there on the spot, and his body was carried off to a nearby church, and there was laid upon the altar.
During his lifetime some people grumbled about Mychal Judge. Like Zacchaeus and Matthew, both tax collectors and sinners, Judge had a reputation. He was a recovering alcoholic. He was a gay man. He was a controversial and unconventional character who held mass in the most unlikely places. A Monsignor in the Chancery frequently had to admonish him for one thing or the other. He was more a friend to Bill Clinton than to Cardinal O’Connor, and on one occasion he actually told Clinton that he believed that the founders of AA had done more for humanity than Mother Theresa.
He lined up well with the characters and chaos of New York City. He was streetwise and earthy. He had no compunction when it came to language. He would use the “f” word at times. He’d tell an alcoholic, for example, “Oh look, you’re not a bad person; you have a disease that makes you think you’re bad, and that’s going to `f…’ you up.” Mychal opened the doors of St. Francis of Assisi Church on 3lst Street in Manhattan to Dignity, an organization for gay Catholics. Then to top it off he marched in the first gay-inclusive St. Patrick’s Day parade.
But this man, tax collector and sinner, also had a deep Irish faith that made him irreverently protest, “If I’ve ever done anything to embarrass or hurt the church I love so much, you can burn me at the stake in front of St. Patrick’s.” This man, tax collector and sinner, also had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani. Though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the city, he lived on an entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers. He was non-acquisitive. He was non-grabby. He was utterly unselfish and uncomplaining.
A city hobnobbing with a sinner
The church, which is always very politically correct and takes care not to be seen hobnobbing with sinners, will perhaps never canonize Mychal Judge. But that’s OK, for the people of God have already canonized him. They canonized him by means of acclamation.[3] They televised his entire funeral from start to end. And when they held a memorial service for him, an endless flow of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle age couples from the suburbs streamed into Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave in Manhattan, an Anglican church, to do a memorial for a Roman Catholic priest.
In his lifetime Mychal Judge hobnobbed and feasted with sinners. Now a great city hobnobbed and feasted with him in his death and burial. And Jesus, who invited Himself to dinner in the house of Zacchaeus, a tax collector and notorious sinner, on 9/11 invited Mychal to dine with Him in the Banquet of Eternal Life.
Conclusion
Go and hobnob like Jesus
There is a dismissal to every Mass. Ite Missa est. Go, the Mass is ended. Go and like Jesus hobnob with sinners. To our surprise we’ll meet up with the nicest people. We’ll meet a humble tax collector in the temple who goes home at night set right with God. We’ll meet a funny tax collector in a tree who promises to give half his wealth to the poor and make fourfold restitution to whom he has cheated. Above all we’ll meet Fr. Mychal Judge, a sinner who hobnobbed with sinners all his life, and with whom the whole City of New York turned out to hobnob in his death and burial.
1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[3] The very early church canonized by acclamation -- by loud shouts of God’s people.
[i] Our need for tax collectors and sinners
There’s something in all of us that needs tax collectors, sinners, outcasts and infidels to look down upon. The Pharisee who went up to the temple to pray needed a tax collector and sinner to look down upon. That made him feel good about himself. He rejoiced and thanked God he wasn’t like the rest of men –- dishonest and adulterous. That’s a typical reaction of one who doesn’t feel good about himself in the first place. The late Jerry Falwell also needed his tax collectors and sinners to look down upon. He found them in gays, lesbians, feminists, the ACLU, the People for the American Way, etc. From the constant smile on his face it appeared that those notorious sinners made Falwell feel good about himself. That’s a typical reaction of one who doesn’t feel good about himself in the first place.
There’s something in the great religions that needs tax collectors, sinners, outcasts and infidels to look down upon. This is true especially of Christianity and Islam which seem to have an enduring need to look down upon others. That need begets a strange dynamic. By having someone to look down upon we create a mission for ourselves. It’s a mission of conversion whereby we get rid of our sinners and outcasts and infidels by making them look and act and think just like we do. Or, worse yet, it’s a mission of annihilation whereby we drive two 747s as weapons of mass destruction into the Twin Towers in the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan, and rid ourselves of three thousand infidels with one neat blow.
November 4, 2007, 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time
Wisdom 11:22-12:2 II Thessalonians 1:11-2:2 Luke 19:1-10
To the church in the diaspora[1]
& to the church of the unchurched[2]
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
At that time, Jesus came to Jericho and intended to pass through the town. Now a man there named Zacchaeus, who was the chief tax collector in Jericho and a very wealthy man, was trying to get a glimpse of Jesus, but he couldn’t because of the crowds, for he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus passing by. Drawing near, Jesus called up to him, saying, "Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for I would like to eat supper with you tonight.” He came down quickly and received Jesus into his house with great joy. When the crowds saw this, they were displeased and began to grumble, saying, "He has gone to be a guest at the house of a notorious sinner." But Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Sir, from now on I will give half my wealth to the poor, and if I have overcharged anyone on his taxes, I will penalize myself by giving him back four times as much.” And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house. This man was one of the lost sons of Abraham, and I, the Son of Man, have come to search for and save such souls as his."
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
The secular and liturgical calendar
On the secular calendar the first Sunday of November directs us to put an end to saving time and to switch back to God’s time. Though it’s November already, an honest-to-God frost hasn’t hit us yet in Wisconsin. The cool evenings are splashing the geraniums (fall’s last hold-outs) with deep hues, in a kind of swan song to summer 2007. Soon the first dusting of snow will evoke the emotions of the great feasts ahead. Soon it will be over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go for Thanksgiving. After that we'll be dreaming of a white Christmas.
On our liturgical calendar November 1 is always the feast of all the saints who are hobnobbing and eating with each other in the Banquet of Eternal Life. Some scholars think the feast was originally an old Irish observance which spread to England and finally to Rome in the late 11th century. On All Saints we “rejoice in all the holy men and women of every time and place” (opening prayer of the day). That’s a multitude which no one can count (Rev 7:9). That’s a multitude which not even the church can adequately count with her official list of canonized saints, for the best of the saints have not and never will be canonized.
Jesus hobnobbing with sinners
Last week Jesus told a parable about a tax collector who with a Pharisee went up to the temple to pray. Tax collectors were Jews who extracted taxes from fellow Jews for Romans occupying their land. They were not only traitors but often also extortionists and cheats. That’s why the New Testament always mentions tax collectors in the same breath with sinners. They were all bunched together and considered to be bad guys. But the tax collector in Jesus’ parable last Sunday was a nice fellow. When he got up to pray he bent low to the ground where humility gets its humus and beseeched God to be merciful to him a sinner. He went home that night set right with God (Lk 18:9-14).
Last Sunday’s story about a tax collector was a parable. Today’s story is about a tax collector whom Jesus personally encountered. He, too, was a nice fellow. His name was Zacchaeus. He was not just a tax collector, he was the chief tax collector (chief sinner) in Jericho.” But he was short in stature, and small guys don’t do well in big crowds. So he climbed a sycamore tree to get a glimpse of Jesus passing by. When the Lord saw him, he called up to him, “Hurry down, Zacchaeus, for I’d like to eat supper with you in your house tonight.” The tax collector (overcome either with guilt or gratitude or both) found himself promising the Lord to give half his belongings to the poor, and if he had cheated anyone on his taxes, he promised to pay him back four times as much. But some in the crowds became indignant and grumbled saying, “Look at this fellow Jesus! He hobnobs and eats with a notorious sinner.”
On another occasion Jesus saw another tax collector (sinner, that is) named Matthew, not up in a sycamore tree but sitting at a tax collector’s booth. Though he was a tax collector, he, too, was a nice fellow. Jesus invited Matthew to follow Him, and Matthew in turn invited Jesus to dine at his house. There many other tax collectors and sinners joined Jesus and his disciples at table. Some of the Pharisees saw this and became indignant and grumbled. They asked the disciples how is it that their master hobnobs and eats with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus silenced them saying, “People who are healthy don’t need a doctor, but sick people do. Go and learn the meaning of the scripture which says, `It’s compassion that I want from you people, not your animal sacrifices’” (Mt 9: 9-13).
A church hobnobbing with saints only
Many of us are old enough to remember the days when the church declined to hobnob and eat with sinners. It’s hard to imagine now but before Vatican II all sinners were excluded from the Eucharistic Banquet. And that meant almost everyone was excluded. When Communion time came, only a handful out of a packed congregation would rise to Communicate. Only those who had gone to sacramental confession and had themselves absolved into a state of Sanctifying Grace rose to take Communion. They were, indeed, a mere handful. The bulk of the Sunday congregation, who considered themselves sinners (i.e. in the state of mortal sin), were excluded from the Communion rail.
All that suddenly changed! Now, after Vatican II, at Communion time the whole congregation (almost none of whom has gone to sacramental confession) rises to Communicate. Now, after Vatican II, the Eucharist is seen more as food for sinners than a reward for saints. What has changed? A perspective has changed. If Jesus can eat with Zacchaeus, chief tax collector and sinner, and with Matthew, another tax collector and sinner, then we sinners can eat with Jesus! We wonder why it took so long to lay hold of that perspective, for it’s a thread woven into the whole fabric of the New Testament.
A pope hobnobbing with sinners
On Oct 27, 1986 Pope John Paul II invited the world’s religious leaders to assembly with him in Assisi (the hometown of St. Francis, a great man of peace) to summit and pray with the pope for peace in the world. Muslims, Buddhists, Shintoists, Jews, Sikhs, Zoroastrians and American Indians came from the four corners of the earth and descended upon the little town nestled on the western slope of an Umbrian hill. Time Magazine (Nov. 10, 1986) called it "super!" Carl McIntire, a religious fundamentalist and gadfly, labeled the meeting "the greatest single abomination in church history." He accused the Pope of hobnobbing and praying with sinners![i]
A priest hobnobbing with sinners
Franciscan priest, Fr. Mycal Judge, was one of four chaplains for the New York Fire Department. The story of his death in the line of duty was one of the first to come out of the tragedy of September 11th. Almost immediately legend sprung up around his death. He had taken his helmet off to give the last rites to a dying fireman when suddenly debris came crashing down upon him. He died there on the spot, and his body was carried off to a nearby church, and there was laid upon the altar.
During his lifetime some people grumbled about Mychal Judge. Like Zacchaeus and Matthew, both tax collectors and sinners, Judge had a reputation. He was a recovering alcoholic. He was a gay man. He was a controversial and unconventional character who held mass in the most unlikely places. A Monsignor in the Chancery frequently had to admonish him for one thing or the other. He was more a friend to Bill Clinton than to Cardinal O’Connor, and on one occasion he actually told Clinton that he believed that the founders of AA had done more for humanity than Mother Theresa.
He lined up well with the characters and chaos of New York City. He was streetwise and earthy. He had no compunction when it came to language. He would use the “f” word at times. He’d tell an alcoholic, for example, “Oh look, you’re not a bad person; you have a disease that makes you think you’re bad, and that’s going to `f…’ you up.” Mychal opened the doors of St. Francis of Assisi Church on 3lst Street in Manhattan to Dignity, an organization for gay Catholics. Then to top it off he marched in the first gay-inclusive St. Patrick’s Day parade.
But this man, tax collector and sinner, also had a deep Irish faith that made him irreverently protest, “If I’ve ever done anything to embarrass or hurt the church I love so much, you can burn me at the stake in front of St. Patrick’s.” This man, tax collector and sinner, also had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani. Though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the city, he lived on an entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers. He was non-acquisitive. He was non-grabby. He was utterly unselfish and uncomplaining.
A city hobnobbing with a sinner
The church, which is always very politically correct and takes care not to be seen hobnobbing with sinners, will perhaps never canonize Mychal Judge. But that’s OK, for the people of God have already canonized him. They canonized him by means of acclamation.[3] They televised his entire funeral from start to end. And when they held a memorial service for him, an endless flow of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle age couples from the suburbs streamed into Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave in Manhattan, an Anglican church, to do a memorial for a Roman Catholic priest.
In his lifetime Mychal Judge hobnobbed and feasted with sinners. Now a great city hobnobbed and feasted with him in his death and burial. And Jesus, who invited Himself to dinner in the house of Zacchaeus, a tax collector and notorious sinner, on 9/11 invited Mychal to dine with Him in the Banquet of Eternal Life.
Conclusion
Go and hobnob like Jesus
There is a dismissal to every Mass. Ite Missa est. Go, the Mass is ended. Go and like Jesus hobnob with sinners. To our surprise we’ll meet up with the nicest people. We’ll meet a humble tax collector in the temple who goes home at night set right with God. We’ll meet a funny tax collector in a tree who promises to give half his wealth to the poor and make fourfold restitution to whom he has cheated. Above all we’ll meet Fr. Mychal Judge, a sinner who hobnobbed with sinners all his life, and with whom the whole City of New York turned out to hobnob in his death and burial.
1] Diaspora is a Greek word meaning dispersion. Originally it referred to the settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine after the Babylonian exile. It’s now come to mean the migration or scattering of a people away from an established or ancestral homeland or parish!
[2]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[3] The very early church canonized by acclamation -- by loud shouts of God’s people.
[i] Our need for tax collectors and sinners
There’s something in all of us that needs tax collectors, sinners, outcasts and infidels to look down upon. The Pharisee who went up to the temple to pray needed a tax collector and sinner to look down upon. That made him feel good about himself. He rejoiced and thanked God he wasn’t like the rest of men –- dishonest and adulterous. That’s a typical reaction of one who doesn’t feel good about himself in the first place. The late Jerry Falwell also needed his tax collectors and sinners to look down upon. He found them in gays, lesbians, feminists, the ACLU, the People for the American Way, etc. From the constant smile on his face it appeared that those notorious sinners made Falwell feel good about himself. That’s a typical reaction of one who doesn’t feel good about himself in the first place.
There’s something in the great religions that needs tax collectors, sinners, outcasts and infidels to look down upon. This is true especially of Christianity and Islam which seem to have an enduring need to look down upon others. That need begets a strange dynamic. By having someone to look down upon we create a mission for ourselves. It’s a mission of conversion whereby we get rid of our sinners and outcasts and infidels by making them look and act and think just like we do. Or, worse yet, it’s a mission of annihilation whereby we drive two 747s as weapons of mass destruction into the Twin Towers in the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan, and rid ourselves of three thousand infidels with one neat blow.
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