WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – April 17, 2011

(Mt. 26:14 – 27:66)

They opened her up, then closed her again.  The cancer has spread; there’s nothing they can do.  Sentenced to death, her passion has begun.  The woman is 94 years old.  The doctors are surprised that she survived the surgery; her family is surprised that the doctors even attempted it.  Their mother/sister/grandmother has cancer.  Now they will walk the way of the cross with her.  Before her surgery she asked her daughter to pray with her.  They prayed together in their Garden of Gethsemane.  When she leaves the hospital to return to the nursing home where she lives the hospice nurses will go with her.  They will accompany her on her way to Calvary.

Her baby stopped moving.  She was eight months pregnant.  The doctors confirmed her worst fears.  Her baby was dead.  Her womb had become its tomb but it would be weeks before the stone could be rolled away.  She must carry her sweet, dead child until it could be delivered safely.  Too soon or too late and its life would become her death.  She stood at the foot of her child’s cross and cried out in pain.  It was the Pieta, this mother holding the body of her dead child close to her heart.

Thankfully, most of us will never have to experience this kind of pain and death.  But there are other experiences of pain – and other deaths.  One may be betrayed by a rival, denied by a friend, rejected because of the color of his skin or the number of years she has passed on this earth.  Another may be beaten down by financial worries or concerns over deteriorating health.  And still others may be scourged by prejudice, pierced by the nails of oppression, or crucified on the tree of marginalization.  Crosses come in many shapes and sizes.  How do we respond to the Passion of the Christ being lived out in the lives of the people around us?  Do our actions identify us as a Resurrection People?  Or are we content to simply sit and watch Mel Gibson’s version on late night TV?

Vinal Van Benthem

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – April 10, 2011

(Jn. 11:1-45)

There are many kinds of death – but the one that probably most closely approximates Lazarus’ experience is the experience of being in prison.

Beth works for a juvenile facility.  If asked, she’d be the first to say that her work has little if anything to do with building up the kingdom.  Certainly, the kids in her facility are no angels.  Most are street kids who spend their lives just scrambling to keep alive.  Many have never known their fathers nor had any male role models in their lives, and in too many cases even their mothers have been absent at best, drunk or high at worst.  For these kids the gang is probably the closest thing to a family they’ve ever known.

Some got in trouble because they were looking for attention.  Not particularly good students or great athletes, they felt left out and ignored.  They had an overwhelming need to be noticed – even if it was on the evening news.  Others were just in the wrong place at the wrong time – usually with the wrong person.  They’re the followers, the outsiders looking for a way in.

To many people these kids are ‘dead’, bound by their past.  Their lives have been put on hold for months or even years.  “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” some say.  But Beth believes otherwise.  Beth believes that for most of these kids there’s still the possibility of life.

“Lazarus, come out!”  Their jail sentence is over.  Maybe they’re out on parole.  Maybe they’ve even gotten time off for good behavior.  Whatever the reason or circumstances, their time in jail ends, the door opens, and they walk out into the sunlight.  What happens next depends pretty much on what has happened while they were behind bars.  They can go on being dead and probably wind up in jail again – or worse.  Or they can come out changed, alive with hope for a better life.  And that’s where Beth comes in.  “Untie him and let him go.”  What does Beth’s work have to do with building the kingdom?  Beth’s a social worker.  She’s the one who unties them…

Vinal Van Benthem, sfo

 

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – April 3, 2011

April 3, 2011 (1 Sam 16:1b,6-7, 10-13a; Eph 5:8-14)

A friend once gave me a little book entitled Attic People.  The book’s premise was that there are two kinds of people – attic people, who pull you up, and basement people, who pull you down. My friend saw me as an attic person.

But it’s pretty easy to be an attic person around our friends.  The question is, how do we treat people who aren’t our friends?  The people who live in our neighborhood, or go to our church?  Or what about the people we work with?  Are we concerned about the man whose job is disappearing because his company is moving overseas?  What if we’re the one who has to let someone go?  How do we tell them?  Do we offer a severance package to help them pay their bills until they find work?  Do we offer job counseling and/or space where they can conduct a job search?  Do we pull them up? Or down?

Mary Beth was hired by a large manufacturing facility specifically to prepare employees for the time when the plant would be closing a year or two in advance of its actually doing so.  Her job included planning seminars and workshops on everything from learning new job skills to developing self-esteem to preparing a resume.  For employees who were not fluent in English she engaged the services of a language tutor.  She even planned an ice cream social and a couple of pizza parties in order to reassure the employees that they were not alone and that the company really cared what happened to them.

Because this company really did care – enough to hire Mary Beth to be light for its employees in the darkness of their fear and confusion over an uncertain future.  This company hired Mary Beth because she sees and values the dignity of every person she works with.  She does not judge by appearances.  She is not impressed by lofty stature.  The 200+ people who have successfully moved into other jobs because of her would describe Mary Beth as an attic person.  How would the people we work with describe us?

Vinal Van Benthem, sfo

 

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – March 27, 2011

The woman was from the wrong side of town.  Her skin was the wrong color.  She went to the wrong church and ran with the wrong crowd.  She’d had a string of live-in boyfriends and most of the people in the neighborhood crossed the street when they saw her coming.

It was about noon when it happened.  The woman walked into a neighborhood fast food restaurant.  A sign in the window read “Help Wanted” and she intended to apply for the job.  The man behind the counter was surprised when she asked for the manager, but not nearly as surprised as the manager was when she asked about the job.  How could he get out of this?  Why hadn’t he pulled the sign out of the window when he saw her coming?  Why hadn’t the guy behind the counter told her that the manager was “out”?  Now here she was and he couldn’t think of one single reason – at least one that wouldn’t get him into trouble – to refuse to hire her.

It was about noon when it happened.  Most of the women went to the well early in the morning, when it was cool.  She came later.  It was hotter then, but the other women were less likely to be around.  The women didn’t like her much.  She came from the wrong side of town, and she was living with a man she wasn’t married to.  Besides, she had a disturbing habit of getting in your face, asking questions about politics and, worse yet given her questionable status in the community, even religion!  The woman was bad news and as far as most people were concerned she was invisible.

But she was not invisible to Jesus.  It almost seemed that He had timed his visit to Jacob’s well to coincide with hers.  And then, to make matters worse, He talked to her – him, a man, and a Jew, talking to a Samaritan woman!  It was unheard of.  Couldn’t He have gotten out of it?  What if she wanted to become a disciple, too?  What would Jesus do? What would the other disciples do?

Vinal Van Benthem

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – March 20, 2011

(Gn. 12:1-4a; Mt.17:1-9)

The evening news reports over 1500 people dead and thousands missing as the result of an earthquake and tsunami in Japan and people are holding their breath regarding the possible meltdown of damaged nuclear power facilities. Over two million households are without electricity; food and water are scarce; entire towns have been destroyed.  Last week people were going about their business unaware that in a matter of hours their world would quite literally fall down around their ears.  Now the people of Japan have come down from the mountaintop of complacency and economic security and vast portions of one of the most technologically advanced nations in the world have been reduced to rubble.

Abram was also living a kind of mountaintop existence, just going about his business, when God told him to leave everything that was familiar behind and go, sight unseen, to a land that God would show him. Did Abram feel like his world was falling down around his ears?  Was he able to take any mementos with him?  Did he ever see his family again?

Peter, James and John had an incredible experience, a mountaintop experience, and they didn’t want to leave.  Like Abram and the people of Japan they wanted to stay where they felt safe and happy, but mountaintop experiences are not intended to last.  God called them down from the mountaintop just as he had called Abram from his homeland.  Because life is not lived on the mountaintop; life is lived on the plain.  Abram would be asked to sacrifice his only son on the plain.  Peter, James and John would face persecution and death on the plain.  Earthquakes and tsunamis happen on the plain.

Where is God in all of this?  Ships bring aid to the people.  Search and rescue teams comb through wreckage.  Members of the worldwide scientific community monitor conditions at the nuclear power plants.  And God is present.  Because even when it seems that the very earth is shifting under our feet, today, as in the days of Abram, Peter, James and John, God never leaves the people to come down from the mountaintop alone.

Vinal Van Benthem, sfo

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – March 13, 2011

March 13, 2011 (Gn. 2:7-9; 3:1-7; Mt. 4:1-11)

The company was in trouble.  The media asked, “Did the company executives know and, if so, when?”  In retrospect the actions of financial officers seemed to indicate that they did.  Stock trading, partnerships and spin-offs, closed door conferences and personnel shuffling all indicated that the corporate higher-ups were trying everything in their power to keep the company from crashing on rocks that most of the employees never saw coming.  Business decisions reflective of the personal decisions of individuals in upper management resulted in devastation that reached through all levels of the company and resulted in the loss of wages, financial security, jobs, and even lives.

Adam and Eve were walking in the garden when the serpent appeared.  Eve listened to what the serpent had to say.  She decided to taste the apple.  It was a personal decision.  She offered the fruit to Adam.  He also chose to eat of the fruit.  A personal decision but we are all still living out of its consequences.

“…Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert…”  For forty days He fasted and prayed alone in the desert and Scripture tells us that He was hungry.  He was probably also weak and confused from His long fast.  And so the tempter came, hoping to catch Him by surprise.  Jesus listened to what the devil had to say.  Then He, like Eve, made a personal decision.  “One does not live on bread alone…”   “You shall not put …God…to the test.”   “God…alone shall you serve.”  And Matthew tells us that “…the devil left him and…angels came and ministered to him.”  A personal decision. What might have happened, had He chosen otherwise?

Desert experiences come in all shapes and sizes.  Loss of job or relationship leaves us confused; diminished income or health weakens us.  The experience may find us alone or surrounded by crowds of people.  But one thing is certain – it will find us, and how we choose to respond will affect not only our own lives but also the lives of people we may never even know.  What decisions will we make in the desert?

Vinal Van Benthem, sfo

 

WORKING WITH THE SCRIPTURES – March 6, 2011

March 6, 2011 (Mt. 7:21-27)

Ordinary Time.  That’s what Catholics call this time of year, Ordinary Time. The priest wears green vestments and there’s nothing very exciting going on.  Everything is just – well – ordinary – one day following another, Sunday after Sunday.  That’s actually where the word came from.  We call this Ordinary Time because these Sundays are numbered, from the root word ordinand. For example, this Sunday is the 9^th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Sometimes our lives feel like that.  Ordinary, one day following another, nothing very exciting happening, no prophesying or driving out demons, no “mighty deeds” (unless you count making it to work on time!), just one day following another, Sunday after Sunday.

But wait a minute.  Let’s look again.  According to Matthew Jesus isn’t really all that interested in prophesying or driving out demons.  In fact, Jesus doesn’t even seem to be overly impressed with people who do “mighty deeds”!  “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.”  It sounds like Jesus just wants us to do two very ordinary things: (1) listen to His words and (2) act on them.

“Wait a minute,” you might be saying, “just where am I supposed to hear these words that Jesus wants me to listen to?”  Actually Jesus talks to us all the time.  The reason we don’t always hear Him is because it seems so – you know – ordinary. For instance, when the alarm goes off on Monday morning and the last thing you want to do is get up and go to work but you know that you have to in order to support yourself and/or your family so you do – you’re listening to Jesus’ word and acting on it.  Or when the client calls with yet another change in the blueprints that you’ve spent weeks preparing and you want to scream but instead you remain patient and incorporate the change.  Not exciting enough, you say?  Nothing out of the ordinary?  Maybe that’s the point.  Maybe, just maybe, all those ordinary days aren’t really all that ordinary after all!

Vinal Van Benthem, sfo