DEAL OR NO DEAL?

17 Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lk 11:1-13

One of the popular television game shows in the Philippines today is “Deal or No Deal”. The show begins with the contestant choosing one briefcase from among twenty-six, with the hope that it contains the three million peso jackpot. A banker then bargains for the chosen briefcase. If the player says, “No deal,” a briefcase from among those not chosen has to be opened. If the player says, “Deal,” then the game is over and the contestant goes home with whatever amount of money he has inside the briefcase he chose at the start of the show. Aside for the beautiful “26-K” (the sexy ladies carrying the briefcases) and the colorful gown of Ms. Kris Aquino (the lady host), the audience – both in the studio and in their homes – are overly excited for the three million peso jackpot briefcase to be opened. The show gets more interesting as the bargain goes up and up and up. Unfortunately, sometimes, the banker’s offer goes down and down and down. No one has gone home yet with the three million peso jackpot, but several players already went home with less than their expenses getting into the show.

I remember a Jewish story about a man who bargained with God. One day, the story goes, Ben Ezra was praying inside a synagogue. He prayed very vigorously so that the rabbi of that synagogue noticed him and became rather disturbed about him. The rabbi approached Ben Ezra and, with anxiety, asked him, “What are you praying about, Ben Ezra? I am afraid you are arguing with rather than praying to God.”

“Listen, rabbi,” Ben Ezra answered, “this is my prayer.” Thereupon, Ben Ezra started to pray in this fashion, “O Yahweh, Maker of the universe, this is what I have to say to You:

‘I have many sins, and I confess them. I argued with my wife, but you know my wife! I lost patience with my children, but what parent doesn’t? I cheated a little in my trade, but just a little. My sins are very small, O Creator of everything, but they are mine and I confess them all. Now, let’s look at Your sins. Now and again You lock the gates of the heavens for a very long time and so our fields dry up and our crops wither. Because You send us too much sun, our harvests burn and our blood pressure shoots up. When You are done with drought and heat wave, You suddenly open the gates of the heavens and let down rain even before the poor man has his roof repaired. Worse, You seem to forget to close those gates! Our fields and streets are flooded; even in our homes, we can drown. About wars – You never intervene to stop them and so our boys leave home even before they become men and most of them return lying inside a box. Look at the matrimonial bed – it is empty and wombs, not only the earth, dry up before delivering even just one child. You take the light from the eyes of an infant and he is blind. You take our loved ones, too, and we are left mourning until we ourselves die. These are Your sins, O Maker of all things, and they are many and great. But I have an offer to make. Forgive me my small sins and I will forgive You Your big sins.”

After praying, Ben Ezra looked at the rabbi and said, “That is my proposal to God, rabbi. If you were God, how would you answer: Deal or no deal?

The rabbi was quiet for a long while, and then said, “Ben Ezra, your offer is too small. So, no deal!” “What with the sins you accuse God of,” the rabbi continued, “you could have instead asked Him to send us the Messiah already! You could have bargained with Him to redeem the world from sin then clear God of all the charges.”

In our first reading today, not Ben Ezra, but Abraham is busy bargaining with God about the number of good people who are needed to save Sodom and Gomorrah from destruction. His dialogue with God sounds like an auction. The bid goes down and down – fifty, forty-five, thirty, twenty, ten. And God said, “Deal!” On the one hand, Abraham is a very good example of one who knows how to drive a bargain. On the other hand, God is an image of a patient dealer who is after all not difficult to deal with. While, Abraham calculates his every word, God is only happy to agree with Abraham’s lowest bid.

In the letter of St. Paul that was read to us today, the image of God as generous and forgiving emerges again: “(God) has overridden the Law, and cancelled every record of the debt that we had to pay….” Paul declares that God did this in a very dramatic way: by nailing our debts on the cross of Jesus. Thus, we can say that on the cross, God cannot read the story of our sins anymore but the story of the love of Jesus. In our Jewish story, the rabbi told Ben Ezra that he should have driven his bargain with God further by asking Him to send the Messiah instead. As Christians, this is exactly what we believe God did. God gave us His only Begotten Son, Jesus, the Messiah, even before we asked for Him, not as a payment for the offenses we may accuse God of but as the forgiveness for our sins against Him. On the cross, we see and experience that God has forgiven all our sins – small and big alike.

Perhaps, we have no problem believing that God is patient, generous, kind, and forgiving. But there are people who find it difficult to believe that God indeed is exactly that. And even we, sometimes, think that God is not easy to deal with – that God is like a police officer who is always on the look out for any misdeed he can bring us to jail for, or an authoritarian parent who makes our life unbearable with a long list of do’s and don’ts, or a severe teacher whose ultimate joy is to flank a student in his course. It is for this reason why Jesus, in teaching His disciple how to pray, encouraged them strongly to treat God as their Father, to approach Him and talk to Him with the confidence of a child who is secured in the love of his parents.

In a culture and religion that considered God to be remote and calling Him by name blasphemous, Jesus insisted that His disciples call Him “Abba”, whose exact translation in our language is not the formal “father” but the familiar “dad” or “papa” or “daddy”. Is it not that blasphemy was one of the accusations hurled against Jesus by His fellow Jews who handed Him over to the Roman colonizers who, in turn, sentenced Him to execution? His enemies tried to silence Jesus because Jesus kept on calling God “Daddy” and He wanted His disciples to do the same. Jesus died fighting for His teaching regarding treating and calling God “Abba” or “Dad”, and He died not before He first uttered, “Dad, into Your hands I entrust My spirit.”

In every Mass we celebrate, it is Abba, God our Father, who first makes an offer, not us. His offer? Jesus, His own Son. And this is Jesus’ offer to us: forgiveness from all our sins and everlasting life. If the world would propose a bid to match God’s offer, how would you answer: deal or no deal?

Then, why is it that many say, “Deal”?

IS ANYONE STILL LISTENING?

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lk 10:38-42

Are you familiar with Greek mythology? If you are, then you know that ancient Greece had many gods and deities. Jupiter, according to Greek mythology, is the father of all gods and goddesses. With the readings in today’s liturgy, I recall a story about Jupiter and his son, Mercury.

One day, the story says, Jupiter decided to visit the earth. Tagging Mercury along, he disguised himself as a weary traveler. He knocked on many houses but not one welcomed him and his son, except an old couple, by the name of Philemon and Baucis, who lived in a small cottage. The couple welcomed Jupiter and Mercury: the husband gave them warm water to clean themselves while the wife prepared a meal for them. While these were happening, the couples did not recognize the deities.

When the table was ready, all that the old couple could serve the gods-in-disguise were a hot stew and a pitcher of wine. As they drunk the wine, the couple noticed that the pitcher did not go empty because the wine replenishes itself. Thereupon, Philemon and Baucis realized that they had just welcomed two gods into their home. Their apologies to Jupiter and Mercury were endless because they could not offer them a banquet. But in gratitude for the couple’s kindness, Jupiter asked them what they wanted most and told them that it would be granted. Hesitant at first, the couple confided, “We have grown old together in love and mutual understanding; thus, it is our desire that we die on the same day so that the other will not have to mourn and live in grief.” Their wish was granted, and the kind couple lived unto a ripe old age until they died in peace together.

The story of a people visited by a god-in-disguise is common in various religious traditions. In our first reading today, for example, we hear that in showing hospitality to three strangers, Abraham was actually entertaining no less than God himself: he rushed to welcome them, bowed profoundly, washed their feet, invited them to rest while he prepared for them something to eat. It is worth noting that although Sarah, wife of Abraham, was the one who cooked the food for the strange visitors, she remained inside the tent and did not eat with her husband and the three. In Sarah’s culture, a woman is prohibited to be seen eating with men in public. Nonetheless, from where she was inside the tent, Sarah overheard the good news that God would visit her again the following year and she – despite her advanced age as well as that of Abraham – would finally bear a son. Similar to the good fortune of Philemon and Baucis, who showed hospitality to Jupiter and Mercury according to Greek mythology, God rewarded the kindness of an old couple – Abraham and Sarah – by granting their deepest desire.

Even in the first book of the Bible, Genesis, man’s inherent belief that God walks with His people, talks and eats with them, is already shown. This belief emphasizes the fact that God is involved in the life and struggle of His people. In the Gospel, seeing Jesus mingling and dining with the people, this truth is no longer a mere image of God but becomes a literal event in the history of humankind. Jesus is not in disguise; He is truly human. Indeed, He is a man. This is what St. Paul the Apostle declares in the second reading today: the mystery of God, hidden in secret for endless ages is already revealed in Christ. In the very person of Jesus, the Christ, true God and true man, men and women really meet God. In Jesus, we see the face of the living God.

In the gospel today, we see that St. Luke is highlighting the importance of Martha’s and Mary’s Guest. Do you notice that St. Luke put into Martha’s lips the title “Lord” when she talks to Jesus? That “Lord” (with a capital L) in the words of Martha to Jesus is not a mere token of respect to her Guest When she complains to Jesus, Martha calls Him “Lord” and, as St. Luke describes the scene, Mary meanwhile sits at the feet of the Lord. This visit is no ordinary visit. It signals that Jesus is about to teach a very important lesson on discipleship. Remember that when Martha meets Jesus who is on His way to raise Lazarus, the two sisters’ brother, from the dead, she also uses the title “Lord” in reference to Jesus: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (Jn 11:21).

While Martha’s hands are not enough to do all the necessities of hospitality, Mary sees and hears no one but Jesus. This picture of Mary seated at the feet of their Guest is a world away from that of Sarah in the Old Testament who stayed inside the tent while Abraham and the three visitors ate outside. It is a world away from the religious practice of Jesus’ time: rabbis do not teach women because women can become neither teachers nor disciples. That St. Luke makes Mary take the posture of a disciple can raise many Jewish eyebrows. But that is precisely one of Jesus’ important lessons through His visit: His word is for all – men and women alike.

Martha’s opinion naturally flows with the tide of the times. For Martha, Mary should focus herself on other important matters of hospitality than listening to Jesus, no matter how important Jesus is for their family. A woman’s place is in the kitchen. Thus, complaining, Martha tells Jesus to remind Mary where she should be and what she should do other than sitting at His feet and listening to Him. But, imagine, if that happens, Jesus will be left sitting alone in the sala, talking to Himself! Even in our days, this happens to Jesus. No one listens to Him anymore. And there are two reasons why: one, everybody is busy with serving Him but not as busy with listening to Him; and, two, everybody is busy speaking to Him rather than listening to Him. Is it not true that there are those who talk about God but very seldom talk to God? And they are many who after reciting their piece to God, simply leave God unable to tell them what He thinks. Yet those who talk about God but very seldom talk to Him preach as if they have just had a chat with God. And those who monologue rather than dialogue with God still think that they are truly praying. We need to learn Martha’s lesson. With all her fret and fuss with serving the Lord, Martha forgets in the gospel today that her first and foremost concern should be listening to Jesus. Are we like Martha?

Mary exemplifies what it means to be a true disciple of Jesus. It is worth noting that she, a woman, runs counter to the common cultural and religious view of her time that women cannot become disciples. It is also worth our reflecting on Martha’s lesson that welcoming the Lord is not about serving the Lord but about listening to Him first. Anyone who considers himself a disciple of the Lord Jesus should learn this lesson and live by it.

Is anyone still listening? May those who listen receive their reward.

LOVE AND LIVE

15 Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lk 10:25-37

Our gospel today starts with a very important question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? This question is our question, too, even as St. Luke puts it on the lips of a scribe in the gospel today.

Jesus answers our question: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” The scribe – an expert of the Law – replies, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” In doing so, the expert of the Law quotes Dt 6:5 and Lev 19:18. Jesus approves his answer: “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.” Here we have some of the most important teachings of Jesus.

The first thing that should catch our attention, from the dialogue between Jesus and the scribe, is the intimate link between love and life. Notice the way Jesus formulates His sentence: “Do this (love!)…and you will live.” The structure of His sentence follows the principle of cause and effect. If you love, you will live. The cause is love while the effect is life. Love is a condition for living. If you want to live, love. If you do not love, you will die.

This intimate and vital relationship between life and love is easy to understand even through simple logic. We live because God loves us. On the one hand, Gn 1:27 says that God created us in His image; in the divine image, He created us; male and female He created us. On the other hand, 1 Jn 4:8 says, “…God is love.” If God is love and we are created in the image of God, therefore, we are created in the image of love. If so, whoever does not love goes against his very nature. He who refuses to love – not only does not love – is killing himself. Whoever does not love and refuses to love commits suicide. He is already dead long before he hangs or shoots himself. This is the law of human nature. The failure to love results to self-destruction and the desire to destroy others.

This law of human nature is programmed in each of us. When, in full freedom, we surrender our selves to the love that this law prescribes, we achieve the fullness of our humanity and of our being children of God. Fullness of life is fullness of love, and the perfection of love is genuine holiness.

Nonetheless, we are always free to go against this law of nature. We may choose not to love. We may choose to do evil and avoid good instead of doing good and avoiding evil. We may opt to die, worse, kill our selves. The freewill behind every decision we make is part of the mysterious respect God has for us whom He loves so much. Because of this, Moses advises the Israelites of his time and us as well today, “Choose life…” (Dt 30:19). And Jesus explains to us today that choosing life means choosing to love.

However, the decision to love demands that we love not only those who are pleasing to love or who loves us. Jesus says in Lk 6:27-28, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who maltreat you.” In a word, we must love our neighbor – friend or foe.

Because we must love everybody, the scribe’s follow-up question to Jesus is essential: “And who is my neighbor?” But the question is wrong. The scribe’s question “who is my neighbor”, presupposes that there are people who are his neighbors and there are those who are not, that is why he needs to classify each person he meets in life according to his categories: “neighbor” on the one hand, “not neighbor” on the other hand. Anyone of us can immediately see that this kind of thinking does not resonate with the thought of Jesus who “is the true Light that enlightens every man” (Jn 1:9). Just as light indiscriminately shines upon all it reaches, so does the loving heart on anyone without asking if the other is its neighbor or not. In the sphere of love, the question of the scribe as regards who is his neighbor is absurd.

In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus reverses the question and throws it back to the scribe whom we expect to be rather more intelligent than what he seems to be. At the conclusion of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus asks the scribe, “Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robber’s victim?” Thus, Jesus wants us to learn the lesson that instead of asking who our neighbor is and who is not, we should ask our selves if we are neighbors to them. To be a neighbor is a process that starts with showing compassion to others – whoever they are – even if our own convenience or security, and even life, is at stake. We become a neighbor to others. The others do not become neighbors to us because they are always our neighbors. But are we a neighbor to them? Genuine love, which is the vital perquisite to gaining eternal life, does not know how to classify anyone as neighbor or not. In sincere loving, all are neighbors. Authentic love, as an indispensable condition to receiving fullness of life, is not about who our neighbor is, but about whom do we become a neighbor to.

The question “Who is my neighbor” is a wrong question. The correct one is this: “Who am I a neighbor to?” What is your answer? What is your choice: life or death? If death, then that is very easy. But if life, we must love everyone – yes, including our enemies.

WRITTEN IN HEAVEN

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lk 10:1-12,17-20

Do you love stories of adventures? Most stories of adventures begin with discontentment with something. Whatever is being sought, it is clear that it cannot be found right here and right now. Or at least, it is thought to be so. The here and now is not enough. For example, if someone tells us to find heaven, it is presupposed that heaven is not where we are right now. Thus, a decision needs to be made: stay here and learn now to be contented with the familiar or leave the familiar to find what we seek. Much is at stake in the choice we must make. On the one hand, if we stay, despite the strong urge to leave, we might live the rest of our lives regretting missed opportunities. On the other hand, if we leave, despite the security and convenience that the familiar gives us, we might lose everything we used to have. The tension created by this decision-making is very important because without it many people – not only stories of adventures – may not at all begin. The truth is, discontentment can be a constructive experience: it can urge people to seek and strive for the better.

Quite often, when we have to leave our comfort zone, we feel that we are not yet ready for the journey we must make. The temptation to bring more than we really can carry is very strong and real. But if we carry everything we have, sooner or later we will certainly have to accept the fact that we have always known even before we started our journey: He who carries most and leaves little behind remains the same person he was before he left. This means that whoever carries most and leaves little behind has the least possibility of finding what he is seeking because he has not left for the journey in the first place. To find what we sought, we have to leave from where we start. Whoever compromises can be truly in danger.

The heart of Jesus’ message to us who say we want to follow in His footsteps is the radical demand of leaving everything behind, of letting go of everything, of surrendering everything, of risking everything. Our gospel today shows that Jesus believes that we can face and take this risk for the sake of God’s Kingdom.

When Jesus sent the Seventy-two mentioned in the gospel today, perhaps we wonder how ready they were for the demands of the task entrusted to them. Do you see here the image of Jesus who had to trust His disciples if He truly wanted His outreach to extend to as many people as possible? He had to mobilize a movement because His days on earth were few. Because He had only three years to do public ministry, Jesus had to depend on the various individual and communal talents of His disciples. He had to trust that they understood His teachings and that they were resolved to understand them and share them with many others. Perhaps, if we were in charged of the mission-sending in the gospel today, those Seventy-two could still be undergrads today and, possibly, bench-warmers in the immense task of evangelization. But it is clear that there was a note of urgency in the words of Jesus: “Go on your way!”

While there was urgency in the words of Jesus to the Seventy-two, there was, however, no illusion at all in His instructions to them. He sent them like lambs in the midst of wolves. He wanted them to live the radical life of an itinerant preacher who left home, family, and property. They should not bring any extras. They were not to stop for a chat along the way. When they enter a house, they should bless its household with peace; and if they are accorded hospitality, they should not try changing the menu or fixing the accommodations for their own convenience. All these were distractions that could delay or totally hinder the Seventy-two from accomplishing the mission Jesus gave them.

Freeing themselves from all possible distractions in bringing about the Kingdom of God, Jesus told the Seventy-two that their only consolation is in the shalom or peace that they carry in their hearts wherever they would go. This shalom is the peace of God’s Kingdom. Only in this shalom should their hope be; and this shalom is likewise their gift of gratitude to those who welcome them.

Returning from their fist mission assignment, the disciples were rejoicing because their mission was successful. Their great joy revealed that there were many people who welcomed the word of God through them and that the word of God in itself was the source of their mission. Did you notice that Jesus advised them that they should rejoice not because they were successful with their mission but because their names were written in heaven? If their joy depended on the success of their mission, what would happen if they failed in their mission? This, too, we need to understand and learn. Our success in our endeavors – no matter how great, noble, or godly they are – should never be the only criterion for our joy. We may be successful now, but failure remains a perennial possibility for us. And what happens with our joy when we fail?

God speaks to us today through the Prophet Isaiah also. In the first reading, the Prophet reminds us about what we can rely on at all times, in all places, and in all life-situations, most especially when things go wrong: “As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms, and fondled in her lap; as a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you….” We know too well, because we already experienced it many or a few times, do we not? In our endeavors for the Kingdom of God, there are times when scorpions sting us and wolves bite us. It is during those moments when we need all the more to trust in what Jesus tells us today: “Your names are written in heaven.” Be not afraid! There in heaven, no one can erase our names.