Readings: Jeremiah 31, 31-34; Psalm 51; Hebrews 5, 7-9; John 12, 20-33
Jeremiah: We have not seen Jeremiah for a long time, since before Thanksgiving. Remember that he is one of the Big 3 Prophets (because of the size of the works, e.g. 62 chapters in Jeremiah), who are Isaiah, Jeremiah, & Ezekiel. A review:
Author: mostly Jeremiah as put down by his scribe Baruch. Described as the broken hearted prophet because of his heart rending life warning the people & kings that their behavior was going to be punished. And so it happened with The Babylonian Captivity.
Time: ca. 600 BCE, as an easy date to remember, or more precisely for 40 years from ca. 610 to 570 BCE. The Captivity went from ca. 585-550 BCE (note my error last week, typing 450). Jeremiah probably died in Egypt during The Captivity in Babylon.
The Scene: Remember that the Holy Land had a north & a south, Israel & Judah. First, the northern kingdom, Israel, was defeated by the Assyrians, 622 BCE. These Hebrew tribes vanish into the DNA of the region. Next, the Babylonians & Nebuchadnezzar defeat the Assyrians and threaten the southern kingdom, Judah with the capital Jerusalem. Jeremiah is watching this and seeing it as Yahweh's punishment. In 596, more or less, the Babylonians destroy Jerusalem and cart the Hebrews into slavery.
Today's selection, chapter 31. Yahweh is promising to make a new covenant or agreement with all the people, and to forgive them, after having shown the people who is master. This is the only time in the O.T. that a New Covenant is mentioned.
Sources: Wikipedia; Answers.com; Encyclopedia of Judaism
Hate My Life?
I have a story this morning which I have told only once, and that was at St. Mark's, over 4 years ago. Pardon me if you've heard it. It speaks to my point today. I had permission for the story.
It was many years ago. I think it was the first Monday morning of May, a beautiful morning. A boy came to see me who had been in my office on and off for about six years. He had graduated from high school and enlisted in the Air Force. He had struggled since grade school with bouts of depression, and that morning seemed to be in great shape. We did not even spend more than 30 minutes together, his mood was so up beat and hopeful.
He left. Maybe two or three hours later a call came in. The boy had left Jesuit where my office was, crossed Inwood to the Lincoln Center complex, drove up to the top of the four floor garage, parked his car, headed to the edge of the garage, and walked over the side. He landed on the cement street four floors below, face down flat.
Passersby saw it, called 911, and in a second the paramedics from just around the corner were on the scene. He was in Parkland in a flash. He lived.
It was not for about 3 weeks until I got to visit him. He apologized. I admit I was mad. I loved this kid. He fooled me. He said that he was in a zone, happy because he knew he was out of there. He wanted to escape the pain and go to heaven. There had been no fear in walking off that fourth floor, none of the hesitation you feel before you jump off the high diving board the first time.
You may guess why I tell this story. It exemplifies what happens when you take literally "whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life." This little piece of advice, taken the wrong way, can be dangerous. It also shows how far we have evolved and matured philosophically and psychologically over the past centuries. We are maturing.
I would suggest there is a negative and a positive approach to hating my life.
The negative is exemplified by this kid's story. This is often what is happening when you hear of someone cutting on themselves. If I hate my life and hate myself, I will want to punish myself. So I cut myself. Or I may think that I am such a loser that no one will pay me any attention if I do not do something dramatic like spill my blood.
Even without such dramatic examples, I do not want to encourage someone who hates their body, hates their job, hates their family, hates their school, hates. Just thinking about this I recoil. "There is a better way," I want to say. Maybe change is called for, but hatred is not a constructive, long range motivation. So I would say, "Don't hate it."
On the positive side, I would suggest two things.
First, the word hate can be considered as hyperbolic, a big word meaning exaggeration. It is like Rosemary telling me, "You put a TV screen up on that wall so everyone can see you like in the mega-churches, Divorce!" Think she is exaggerating? I hope. I won't test.
Secondly, I would suggest that this all has to do with being more alive now, in this life. The grain of wheat falling to the ground and dying fits in with this. For example: March Madness. Many of these player have died to themselves to achieve, to be better players. How many hours in the gym have the spent practicing free throws? When they could be hanging out, sleeping in, text messaging? And they love their lives.
Goofy, but I hate my life to love my life. I don't want to get up early. I could sleep in to 11:00. However, I put this part of myself on the shelf for another day so I can dedicate myself to a greater. To maintain my health and fitness I work out 45 minutes in a gym every day. Because of the result I love my life.
My friend who jumped is now okay, amazingly. It took him years of physical recovery. Two things did not happen that blessed him. He did not damage his brain and did not damage his spine. Every other bone, plus his teeth, were broken. Once he got strong enough he went to medical technical school, got his certificates, and now has good jobs in various hospitals in the city. I don't think he hates his life anymore. In fact, loves it.
How do you love your life?
AUDIO: http://mysite.verizon.net/reso7rjy/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/2009-03-29.mp3
Sources: The Center for Liturgy, St. Louis U.; St. Raymond Catholic Church, Dublin, CA; Carmelite Order Web; Homilias Domincales.
Picture 1: Mass with Sabrina & Anthony
Picture 2: Barb celebrates her birthday
Picture 3: Geordie Robinson stuck at home in Dallas because of snow out at U. of CO in Boulder
Picture 4: Chuck with sons Andrew & Danny
