There was an expression common among the Rabbis of Jesus’ time, and perhaps even now, wherein one Rabbi would ask another a question, but request the answer be given, “Standing on one foot.” Which is a Jewish way of saying, “Be brief in your answer.”
And that sort of expression may be behind the question that is raised today by the scholar of law who asks, “Which is the first of all the commandments?”
And in answering, “standing on foot,” Jesus recites the traditional Jewish Shema:
שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ יְהוָה אֶחָד.
Šĕmaʿ Yisĕrāʾel Ădōnāy Ĕlōhênû Ădōnāy eḥād. Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone!
The text Jesus cites from Deuteronomy 6 goes on to say:
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. (Deut 6:4-6)
And Jesus adds, also in common Rabbinic tradition: The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
Do not miss the point that in discussing the greatest “law,” the discussion centers immediately on the word “love.” The fact is, most of us do miss this connection between law and love.
Truth be told, most of us in Western culture put love and law just about as far apart from each other as any two things can be. For us, law is about police officers and courtrooms, it is about forcing people to do things under threat of some penalty. Love, on the other hand is about doing things willingly, because we want to, rather than because we have to.
But the fact is, as Jesus insists, and the ancient Jewish Shema articulates, love and law are in fact together, and law is an articulation of love.
Consider that a man who really loves his wife does not need a law that says “Do not break her arm, do not verbally or physically abuse her, but rather, support, protect, and encourage her.” Nevertheless, though he may not need the law in writing, he is in fact following the law of love when he observes these and other norms. There is a language of love, there is a law of love, there is an out working of love’s works and fruits. In the end, love does what love is, and love is supportive, enthusiastic, even extravagant in keeping its own norms and laws. Love does what love is.
Thus, when asked about the Law the Lord just says “love.” Yes, love God passionately, with your whole heart, soul, and strength. And as you do this, you will love what he loves, and who he loves, for this is the natural fruit of love. The more I love God, the more I begin to love his laws, his vision, what He values. Yes, all the commandments flow from this simple fact, that I love God. Real love has its roots, it has its laws, its methods, its modes.
Here then, is the whole law, standing on one foot: love God. Let His love permeate you wholly and entirely, and every other commandment will implicitly flow from the this love.
When we love God we stop asking unloving questions like:
Do I have to pray? For how long?
Do I have to go to confession? How often?
Do I have to go to mass? how often? What’s the shortest and most convenient one?
Do I have to read God’s word?
Do I have to make his teachings the priority of my life such that they overrule politics, convential thinking etc.?
Love does not ask questions like these, it already knows the answer, it already lives the answer.
Further, love does not ask:
Do I need to honor and care for my parents?
Do I need to respect lawful authority, and contribute to the common good?
Do I need to respect life from conception to natural death?
Do I need to work to cherish and safeguard the lives of others?
Do I need to live chastely and reverence the gift of sexuality that is so much at the heart of human life, and family?
No, love does not ask questions like these, it already knows the answer, it already wants to live the answer.
Love does not ask whether we must respect each other enough to speak the truth in love, to be men and women of our word. It does not wonder whether it is okay to steal from others or to fail to give them what is justly due. It does not wonder if it should be generous to the poor and needy rather than greedy, or whether to be appreciative and satisfied rather than covetous.
No, love does not need to ask these questions, it does not wonder these things. It knows the answer.
Love is the Law, standing on one foot, and all the rest is commentary.
Now God is merciful and does supply the commentary, in His Scriptures and the vast Tradition of the Church. Praise God for it all.
But honestly, listen to the way most of us talk and think. The saints say, “If God wants it, I want it. If God doesn’t want it, I don’t want it.” Is that the way most of us talk? Hmm…most of us are heard to say, “How come I can’t have it? It’s not so bad…..everybody else is doing it.” Doesn’t really sound like lovers talking does it? My, My, My. Somehow the saints knew the Law of God, and could say it standing on one foot. How about us?
All the commentary is nice, and surely needed. But don’t miss the point: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength, and your neighbor as yourself.
Idyllic – I did not live through the 1950s (born 1961), but it would seem that many of the TV shows presented a kind of idyllic picture of marriage and family life. To be sure there were shows like “The Honeymooners” that showed another side. But shows like “Father Knows Best,” “Ozzie and Harriet,” and “Leave it to Beaver” showed the American Family on its best behavior.
Cynic – Some who lived in that time, like my parents (now deceased) said the shows were very popular, but also bred a kind of cynicism, because unrealistic expectations often cause resentments when they are not met. “Why is my family not like that?….”Why are there all these nuts falling out of my family tree?…..Why can’t my Father be like Ward Cleaver?” And lets not forget the lovely June, doing her housework in high heels, a lovely modest dress and pearls gracing her snowy neck.
I don’t know somehow I think I did get a little of that idealism growing up in the 1960s. We lived in a decent neighborhood in a house not unlike the Cleavers. Mom did often wear a dress and Dad came home round 5pm. I had a flat top crew cut and rode my bike with friends.
But them came the War and dad was off to Vietnam. He came back, a year later and the war had changed him somehow. The military moved us away from Chicago, and things went south by my estimation. By 1969 the cultural revolution and the nihilism of Haight Ashbury was reaching the suburbs, no-fault divorce was sweeping the land and shredding families, and the sexual revolution was devastating innocence.
By High School in the mid 70s the revolution was in high gear and the idealism of the 1950s was replaced by an increasing cynicism of and toward traditional values, including marriage and family, a cynicism that has reached a kind of peak today when more women 25-40 are unmarried than married, and more then 40% of children are raised in single parent families.
There were many songs that singled the shift in the 1970s toward cynicism. One of them was a rather melodic, even gentle song by Carly Simon called “That’s the Way I’ve Always Heard it Should Be.” I don’t suppose I ever paid much attention to the lyrics back in the 1970s (few of us really did). But frankly the words are a bitter dismissal of marriage, dripping with disenchantment and resentment. They speak of darkened homes, distant and out of touch parents, and married friends living phony lives that hid desperation and a loss of self-identity.
Consider the words:
My father sits at night with no lights on
His cigarette glows in the dark.
The living room is still;
I walk by, no remark.
I tiptoe past the master bedroom where
My mother reads her magazines.
I hear her call sweet dreams,
But I forgot how to dream.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.
My friends from college they’re all married now;
They have their houses and their lawns.
They have their silent noons,
Tearful nights, angry dawns.
Their children hate them for the things they’re not;
They hate themselves for what they are-
And yet they drink, they laugh,
Close the wound, hide the scar.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.
You say we can keep our love alive
Babe – all I know is what I see –
The couples cling and claw
And drown in love’s debris.
You say we’ll soar like two birds through the clouds,
But soon you’ll cage me on your shelf –
I’ll never learn to be just me first
By myself.
Well O.K., it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me –
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be,
You want to marry me, we’ll marry,
We’ll marry.
Hmm…. Welcome to the modern world. If perhaps the 1950s presented an extremely idealistic picture (at least it called us to come up higher), the reaction of the 1970s and later was the other extreme, an extreme that confirms the worst and says that everything is just phony. It neither inspires nor dreams, it just depresses and calls forth cynicism.
And yet, how many have one extreme or the other about marriage today. Either people have highly idealistic (and unrealistic) notions of what marriage can and should be. Or they are utterly cynical about it.
The idealists often struggle to find the “right” (ideal) person of their dreams. And even if they do, in wanting their marriage to be ideal, when there is any ordeal, they quickly want a new deal. Illusion gives way to disillusionment.
As for the cynics, they just dismiss marriage and live in serial polygamy.
But what if marriage was just like the rest of life…a mixed bag? What if it had some good things about it and some challenges too? What if imperfect marriages and families could still be good families and that imperfection was an acceptable outcome? What if, instead of having the perfect family I was willing to have the family I actually have, realizing that good and bad are often mixed together, and that all are sinners in need of mercy? What if I could accept that my family is imperfect first of all because I am in it? What if, instead of waiting for the perfect or the better I worked with what was reasonably good and tried to make it better?
Well you get the point. I’m not crazy about reality but it’s still the only place you can get a decent meal. And there’s just something about reality that’s a good starting point when it comes to living life. Idealism may have its place, but be careful, for too often it ushers in resentment and cynicism when its promises are not fulfilled.
I’m not sure its fair to say that 1950s TV was completely unrealistic, (I did experience some of what it portrayed), but there were aspects that were perhaps too idealized. The reaction it set in is still visible on the hideous, crass, boorish, broken-down “family” sitcoms of today, that hold up only garbage and dysfunction and tell us that the family in nothing but laughably stupid. It’s Carly Simon’s song on steroids.
Pray for families, pray for marriage. Work also at and for both.
On this Feast of All Souls I want to reflect on Purgatory as the necessary result of a promise. Many people think of purgatory primarily in terms of punishment, but it is also important to think of it in terms of promise, purity and perfection. Some of our deceased brethren are having the promises to them perfected in purgatory. In the month of November we are especially committed to praying for them and know by faith that our prayers are of benefit to them.
What is the Promise which points to Purgatory? Simply stated, Jesus Made the promise in Matt 5:48: You, Therefore, must be perfect as you Heavenly Father is perfect. Now in this promise is an astonishing declaration of our dignity. We are to share in the very nature and perfection of God. This is our dignity: that we are called to reflect and possess the very glory and perfection of God.
St. Catherine of Siena was gifted by the Lord to see a heavenly soul in the state of grace and her account of it is related in her Dialogue. It is here summarized In the Sunday School Teacher’s Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism:
The Soul in the State of Grace– Catherine of Siena was permitted by God to see the beauty of a soul in the state of grace. It was so beautiful that she could not look on it; the brightness of that soul dazzled her. Blessed Raymond, her confessor, asked her to describe to him, as far as she was able, the beauty of the soul she had seen. St. Catherine thought of the sweet light of that morning, and of the beautiful colors of the rainbow, but that soul was far more beautiful. She remembered the dazzling beams of the noonday sun, but the light which beamed from that soul was far brighter. She thought of the pure whiteness of the lily and of the fresh snow, but that is only an earthly whiteness. The soul she had seen was bright with the whiteness of Heaven, such as there is not to be found on earth. ” My father,” she answered. “I cannot find anything in this world that can give you the smallest idea of what I have seen. Oh, if you could but see the beauty of a soul in the state of grace, you would sacrifice your life a thousand times for its salvation. I asked the angel who was with me what had made that soul so beautiful, and he answered me, “It is the image and likeness of God in that soul, and the Divine Grace which made it so beautiful.” [1].
Yes, this is our dignity and final destiny if we are faithful to God.
So, I ask you, “Are you there yet?” God has made you a promise. But what if it is not yet fulfilled and you were to die today without the divine perfection you are promised yet completed? I can only say for myself that, if I were to die today, as far as I know I am not aware of mortal sin. But I am also aware of not being perfect. I am not even close to being humanly perfect, let alone having the perfection of the heavenly Father!
But Jesus made me a promise: You must be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect. And the last time I checked, Jesus is a promise keeper!. St. Paul says, May God who has begun a good work in you bring it to completion. (Phil 1:6). Hence, If I were to die today, Jesus would need to complete a work that he has begun in me. By God’s grace, I have come a mighty long way. But I have a long way to go. God is very holy and his perfection is beyond imagining.
Yes, there are many things in us that need purging. Sins, and attachments to sin. Worldly clingings, and those rough edges to our personality. Likewise most of us carry with us hurts, regrets, sorrows and disappointments. We cannot take any of this to heaven with us. It wouldn’t be heaven. So the Lord, who is faithful to his promise, will purge all of this from us. The Book of Revelation speaks of Jesus ministering to the dead in that he will wipe every tear from their eyes (Rev 21:4). 1 Corithians 3:13-15 speaks of us as passing through fire in order that our works be tested and that what is good may be purified and what is worldly may be burned away. Job said, But he knows the way that I take; and when he has tested me, I will come forth as pure gold (Job 23:10).
Purgatory has to be – Yes, gold, pure gold, refined, perfect and pure gold. Purgatory has to be if God’s promises are to hold.
Catholic Theology has always taken God seriously on his promise that we would actually beperfect as the Father is perfect. The righteousness is Jesus’ righteousness, but it actually transforms us and changes us completely in the way that St. Catherine describes above. It is a real righteousness, not merely imputed, not merely declared of us by inference. It is not an alien justice, but a personal justice, by the grace of God.
Esse quam videri – Purgatory makes sense because perfection promised us is real: Esse quam videri (To be rather than to seem). We must actually be purged of the last vestiges of imperfection, worldliness, sin and sorrows. And, having been made perfect by the grace of God, we are able to enter heaven of which Scripture says, Nothing impure will ever enter it (Rev 21:27). And again, you have approached Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering, and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and God the judge of all, and the souls of the just made perfect (Heb 12:22-23).
How could it be anything less? – Indeed, the souls of the just made perfect. How could it be anything less if Jesus died to accomplish it for us? Purgatory makes sense based on the promise of Jesus and the power of his blood to accomplished complete and total perfection for us. This is our dignity, this is our destiny. Purgatory is about promises not mere punishments. There’s an old Gospel hymn that says, “O Lord I’m running, trying to make a hundred. Ninety-nine and half won’t do!”
That’s right, 99 1/2 won’t do. Nothing less than 100 is possible since we have the promise of Jesus and the wonder working power of the precious blood of the Lamb. For most, if not all of us, purgatory has to be.
Today on the Feast of All Saints and in the month of November we remember, first the Saints in heaven, and then the souls of the faithful departed in purgatory.
Indeed, November and into the early part of Advent is also a part of the Church Calendar when we begin to ponder the last things: death, judgment, heaven and hell. In the Northern hemisphere the days grow shorter and in regions further north, the once green trees and fields shed their lively green, and after the brief golden gown of autumn, a kind of death overtakes the landscape. Life changes, we grow older and one day we will die.
It is fitting at this time that we ponder the passing glory of things and set our gaze on heaven where joys will never end. There is a beautiful prayer in the Roman Missal that captures this disposition:
Deus, qui fidelium mentes unius efficis voluntatis, da populis tuis id amare quod praecipis, id disiderare quod promittis, ut, inter mundanas varietates, ibi nostra fixa sint corda, ubi vera sunt gaudia.
O God, who makes the minds of the faithful to be of one accord, grant to your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that, among the changes of this world, our hearts may there be fixed where true joys are. (21st Sunday of the year)
So welcome to November. Summer is past and Winter beckons. Ponder with me that this world is passing. And I have a question to ask you. How do you see death? Do you long to one day depart this life and go home to God? St. Paul wrote to the Philippians of his longing to leave this world and go to God. He was not suicidal, he just wanted to be with God:
Christ will be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me life is Christ, and death is gain. If I go on living in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. And I do not know which I shall choose. I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit. (Phil 1:20-23)
I am struck that, these days, almost no one publically speaks of their longing to depart this life and be with God. I suspect it is because we live very comfortably, at least in the affluent West. Many of the daily hardships with which even our most recent ancestors struggled have been minimized and even eliminated. I suppose that when the struggles of this life are minimized, fewer people consciously long to leave this world and go to heaven. They set their sights and their hopes and prayers on having things HERE be better. “O God, please give me better health, a better marriage, a financial blessing, a promotion at work….” In other words, “Make this world an even better place for me and I’m content to stay here, rather than to long to go there to heaven.”
Longing to be with God was more evident in the older prayers, many of them written just a few generations ago. Consider for example the well known Salve Regina and note (especially in the words I have bolded) the longing to leave this world and be with God:
Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our Life, our Sweetness, and our Hope. To Thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, Thine Eyes of Mercy toward us, and after this our exile, show us the Blessed Fruit of thy Womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
The prayer acknowledges in a very realistic and sober way that life here can be very difficult. Rather than ask for deliverance from all of it, for this world is an exile after all, the prayer simply expresses a longing to come to heaven and be worthy to see Jesus. It is this longing that I sense is somewhat absent in our modern world, even among regular Church goers.
When was the last time you meditated on heaven? When was the last time you heard a sermon on heaven. I understand that we all have a natural fear and aversion to dying. But for a Christian there should be a deepening thirst for God that begins to erode the fear and aversion to death. St. Francis praised God for Sister bodily death which no one can escape(Canticum Fratris Solis). And why not praise God for it? It is what brings us ultimately home.
As for me, I will say it: I long to leave this world and go home and be with God. I am not suicidal and I love what I do here. But I can’t wait to be with God. I don’t mind getting older, because it means I’m closer to home. Another day’s journey and I’m so glad, one day closer to home! In our youth centered culture people (especially women) are encouraged to be anxious about getting older. As for me, when I hit forty, I said, “Hallelujah, I’m halfway home (err…as far as I know)!” Now as I get ready for fifty I rejoice even more. I’m glad to be getting older. God has made me wiser and he is preparing me to meet him. I can’t wait.
A couple of years ago a woman here in the parish walked into a meeting a few minutes late. It was obvious she had been rushing to get there and entered, quite out of breath. No sooner had she entered than she fell headlong on the ground. She had died instantly of a heart attack, was dead before she hit the ground. We rushed to revive her, but to no avail. God had called Wynette unto himself. I remember saying at her funeral, “For us it was one of the worst days of our life, but for Wynette it was the greatest day of her life.” God for whom she longed had drawn her to himself. She had died hurrying to God’s house and you know I had to quote the old spiritual that says, O Lord, I done what you told me to do….unto that morning when the Lord said, “Hurry!”
Even a necessary stopover in Purgatory cannot eclipse the joy of the day we die. There will surely be the suffering that precedes our death. But deep in our heart, if we are a believer, must ring forth the word: “Soon!” An old spiritual says, “Soon I will be done with the troubles of this world; going home to live with God.”
So I ask you again, do you long for heaven? Do you long to depart this world and be with God? You say, “Yes, but first let me raise my kids!” I know, but do you rejoice as the years tick by and goal becomes closer? Do you long to be with God?
I close with the words of Psalm 27:
One thing I ask from the LORD, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD….My heart says of you, “Seek his face!” Your face, LORD, I will seek. Do not hide your face from me.
As you listen to this Spiritual, consider the harsh conditions that the slaves who wrote it endured:
Here in Washington DC, the storm known as “Sandy” has passed. About 8 inches of rain, and winds near 70 mph. But damage, though local and severe for the victims, was not widespread. Further north and east into Jersey and New York City, damage was significant, especially along the shore. I was moved at Governor Christie’s personal sense of loss as he saw some childhood memories swept away.
Life in this world is both precious and passing, fantastic and fragile, resilient and yet easily ravaged. We may have many questions for God, all summarized in one word, “Why?!” God knows, but often is not telling, and if we hear at all, it is only thunder. Meanwhile we discover new life, even in what ends, blessings even in what burdens.
An old hymn says,
When peace like a river attendeth my soul
Or sorrows, like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well with my soul, it is well.
Somehow a word from an old Rabbi of the mid 18th Century comes to mind. The Jewish people have well known suffering and this wisdom was spoken one day by the Rabbi to his students:
Everyone must have two pockets, so that he can reach into one or the other, according to his needs. In his right pocket are to be the words, ‘For my sake the world was made.’ And in his left pocket these words: ‘I am earth and ashes.’ (Rabbi Simcha Bunim Bonhart of Peshischa (Przysucha), in Poland. Quoted in Newman’s Hasidic Anthology, p. 167)
Yes, we are precious, but passing, and so is everything in this world. Somehow storms remind of us of this. Every life that was lost, precious. Yet none of us linger here long, and the world as we know it is passing away.
As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows and he is gone, and his place sees him no more. But from everlasting to everlasting is the Lord’s love is with those who fear him (Psalm 103:15-17)
Hard lessons, the lessons of a storm. Yet blessed and freeing lessons too. As the old Rabbi said, we are precious and all is for us. Yet our truest blessings are not here, and only when this world and we ourselves are tuned to ashes, do we discover our truest and lasting blessings. To gain true life we must first lose this one (cf Luke 9:24).
Yes, hard wisdom, but true and ancient wisdom, the wisdom of a storm.
This song comes from an African American people who have also known collective suffering and speaks of a day when storms will end and says:
Take courage my soul and let us journey on,
though the night is dark and I’m still far from home;
praise be to God, the morning light appears….
The storm is passing over, hallelujah
Yesterday on this blog we discussed what was meant by the term Kerygma (by the way, pronounced “kay-ROOG-ma” where the first “a” is long and the last “a” is short. Some also pronounce it Kah-REEG-mah). If you missed that discussion you might do well to look at it here: What do we mean by the Kerygma?.
Briefly reviewed however, the term κήρυγμα, (Kerugma) is a Greek word meaning “proclamation”. The Greek word κηρύσσω, (kerusso) means “to be a herald (kerux),” or to be one who proclaims. And thus the Kerygma is what is proclaimed. As the Apostles began the work of preaching and proclaiming Christ, they proclaimed a message that was rather basic and simple.
The basic content of the kerygma emphasizes that Jesus is the chosen Messiah of God, the one who was promised. And though he was crucified, He rose gloriously from the dead, appearing to his disciples, and having been exulted at the right hand of the Father through his ascension, now summons all to him, through the ministry of the Church. This proclamation (kerygma) requires a response from us, that we should repent of our sins, accept baptism, and live in the new life which Christ is offering. This alone will prepare us for the coming judgment that is to come upon all humanity. There is an urgent need to conform ourselves to Christ and be prepared by him for the coming judgment.
There are eight kerygmatic sermons listed by St. Luke’s in the Acts of the Apostles. Five are by St. Peter, and three by St. Paul. The texts are too lengthy to reproduce here but I have put them in a PDF file that you can view here: Eight Sermons of the Kerygma in Acts
The Sermons all contained three fundamental elements. And, while the sermons may not follow this exact order, sometimes interweaving the three themes together, these three basic elements are most consistent:
I. Effect–there is some event, usually a healing which in effect generates the audience. This is a critical element that we will return to later.
II. Explanation–there is an explanation for the events presented that is rooted in Jesus Christ and setting forth how he fulfills prophecy, is the longed-for Messiah. The Paschal mystery, that Christ was killed through our sinfulness, but rose gloriously triumphant, is at the heart of this explanation. And this Paschal mystery is the power through which all healing takes place. This same Jesus, now exulted at the Father’s right hand is Judge and Lord of the world.
III. Exhortation – there is an appeal to repentance and the call to receive Jesus Christ in faith.
Not all eight of the sermons develop each of these points as fully as others. But these are the essential elements. As we shall see, the final sermon on the list, the one St. Paul preached at the meeting of the Areopagus (Acts 17:22–31), barely qualifies as a kerygmatic sermon, though it is commonly listed as one of the eight. More on this in a moment.
As an example of the kerygmatic sermons, let’s look at Peter’s second sermon in Acts 3:12-26:
Acts 3:12-26 – When Peter saw this, he said to them: “Men of Israel, why does this surprise you? Why do you stare at us as if by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of our fathers, has glorified his servant Jesus. You handed him over to be killed, and you disowned him before Pilate, though he had decided to let him go. You disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released to you. You killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead. We are witnesses of this. 16By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus’ name and the faith that comes through him that has given this complete healing to him, as you can all see. “Now, brothers, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders. But this is how God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, saying that his Christ would suffer. Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Christ, who has been appointed for you—even Jesus. He must remain in heaven until the time comes for God to restore everything, as he promised long ago through his holy prophets. For Moses said, ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people; you must listen to everything he tells you. Anyone who does not listen to him will be completely cut off from among his people.’ “Indeed, all the prophets from Samuel on, as many as have spoken, have foretold these days. And you are heirs of the prophets and of the covenant God made with your fathers. He said to Abraham, ‘Through your offspring all peoples on earth will be blessed.’ When God raised up his servant, he sent him first to you to bless you by turning each of you from your wicked ways.”
So Lets look at the Three basic elements of this sermon:
I. Effect– The first verse says When Peter saw this [i.e. their astonishment], he said to them: “Men of Israel, why does this surprise you? Why do you stare at us as if by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk?”
Note then, we are looking at a fact, that is to say, an event that has taken place, something that is observable. In this case, a man who had been crippled from birth, was healed, and he not only walked, but he danced!
This visible effect of God’s grace had the additional effect of drawing a crowd who were now ready to listen to St. Peter. Indeed, six of the eight kerygmatic sermons but one has some triggering event that gathered at the crowd, eager to listen. In the first kerygmatic sermon it had been the rushing wind of Pentecost, the noise that gathered the crowd and then also the gift of tongues, wherein each are heard the apostles speaking in their own native language. In other cases it was an indeterminate list of “signs and wonders” (Acts 5:12) that sets the stage. In another case, it was the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon Cornelius and his family with visible effects, that occasioned the sermon (Acts 10:34 ff). On yet another occasion, it was the cure of another cripple, in this case by St. Paul and Barnabas, in the town of Lystra (Acts 14:8–13).
Thus, some event, some observable effect, sets up of the sermon in six of the eight Kerygmatic sermons.
Now we may ask, “Does this mean that we have to show forth works and miracles in order to preach the Gospel?” And the answer is, “Yes!” It may not necessarily be miraculous physical cures. But surely this effect is required, the miracle of a transformed life on the part of the one who announces Jesus Christ. At some very obvious level we have got to be able to demonstrate to those to whom we preach, and announce Jesus Christ, that we are not merely announcing some facts about an historical figure, or the doctrines of the Church, but also, that we are announcing a Man we have personally met, the Lord who has transformed our life.
We, our very selves, are to be the effect, to be the event which draws the crowd, or even one listener, who will hear of Jesus Christ. Kerygmatic preaching is not merely about doctrines, it is not merely about information, it is about announcing, and witnessing to, transformation, personal transformation in Christ Jesus.
Those who preach the kerygma, must preach it as first-hand witnesses, as witnesses who have met Jesus Christ, and who know what he is doing in their life. Kerygmatic preaching is not a technique that can simply be learned by articulate spokesmen, it is a relationship that must be received, experienced, and thereby announced.
The early Christians, indeed, the Apostles, did not simply announce formulas, creeds, and doctrines; important those these things are. Rather, they announced a person, Jesus Christ, whom they had met. As St. John says in his first letter: “What we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked upon, and touch with our own hands… What we have seen and heard we proclaim now to you!” (1 John 1:ff)
And here explains one reason why the Kerygma, is so rarely make use of today. For it presupposes a personal relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ. There will be little effective evangelization apart from a personal proclamation of Jesus Christ. Don’t miss step one of the Kerygma!
II. – Explanation–in explaining how a crippled man has been healed, Peter takes no credit of his own. He attributes it all to the risen Lord Jesus Christ. In this setting forth of Christ he intertwines a typically kerygmatic approach of announcing that this same Jesus Christ is now glorified in heaven, as can be plainly seen through the effect of the miracle worked in his name.
Peter goes on to declare the Paschal mystery, saying, that though this world killed him, God the Father raised him from the dead. Peter says that he is of witness of this very fact.
Then, St. Peter diverts briefly to a call to conversion in verse 17 and 18 and reverts to the fact that everything that happened to Jesus Christ, was prophesied in the Scriptures, by the prophets.
Of course, in an exhortation directed to a secular world, which does not accept the veracity or authority of Scripture, one cannot rely entirely on demonstrating prophetic fulfillment. One should however be able to demonstrate the reasonableness of Jesus Christ, by showing that he does not emerge out of nowhere. Rather, he emerges after centuries of being prefigured, longed for, and announced.
Remember too, the starting point of kerygmatic preaching is not fine points of Scripture, but the wonderful reality of miracles worked and/or transformed lives. The evidence, for a secularist, while it cannot begin with Scripture, can nevertheless find additional reassurance in the ancient prophecies of Scripture, but this assurance is rooted in an effect which is evidently before them, namely the proof of a transformed life, or of a miracle. In this context of credibility, Scripture, as an historical reference can also be advanced to show that the Christ event builds on ancient wisdom and prophecy. When we announce Jesus Christ to a secular world, we should not wholly set aside Scripture, even though we must also use other things, such as natural law, and human reason.
But note this key point, kerygmatic preaching, does not start with the Scripture, but with the effect, the effect of transformed human being. We simply have to accept, that to the secular world, someone like Mother Teresa is going to have greater credibility than some holier than thou dude trying to win an argument by out-quoting their opponent.
Kerygmatic preaching opens the book of Scripture, but only after demonstrating the power and the wisdom of Jesus Christ through healing and transformation. One of the great dangers of today is that too many Christians who would witness to Christ, seem little better little more reformed than an average pagan. Too many Christians who say they know Christ do not live lives that really show that. Many come across as self-righteous, arrogant, persnickety with details, yet missing the larger points of love, generosity, charity, holiness and joy. There can be little kerygmatic preaching in the absence of an effect. And while two of the kerygmatic sermons in the Scriptures do not contain a previous event, that very fact is probably why one of those sermons failed to bear fruit, as we shall see.
III. Exhortation–St. Peter concludes his sermon with a warning, quoting Moses, The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people; you must listen to everything he tells you. Anyone who does not listen to him will be completely cut off from among his people. In the last line of the sermon, Peter exhorts the people to experience the same blessings of the glorified Lord Jesus Christ, that they had just witnessed in the healing of this crippled man, by turning from their wicked ways. Thus he exhorts repentance, but, once again, in the light of true evidence of the power, majesty and lordship of Jesus Christ.
And thus we see that kerygmatic preaching is rooted not merely in reason or in discourse, but is rooted in experience, the experience of the miracle of healing and/or the experience of a transformed human person, preferably the preacher himself.
Ultimately, the call for a return to the kerygma then must be seen as a call for preachers, prophets, disciples, and members of the Church to return to a preaching of the fundamentals of Jesus Christ as a starting point. But this preaching must be rooted in a first-hand witness, in the credibility of someone who can show forth signs and wonders. And the chief sign, the most convincing miracle, is not usually the sort of miracle that many suspect are staged anyway, as TV evangelists of the past have sometimes done.
Rather the chief miracle to behold is the witness of a transformed human being who shows forth the glory of love, serenity, of the obvious fact of sins having been put to death, and replaced by graceful and godly living. The greatest miracle to seek is a transformed human being, absent of pride and gluttony, lust and anger, but possessed rather of love, charity, generosity, kindness, self-discipline and authority over their passions.
St. Peter counseled the early Christians, and us that we should always be ready to render an account for the hope that is within us (1 Peter 3:15). And in this, he establishes the basis for kerygmatic preaching. Namely, that someone notices a hope that is within us, and then, when they ask about it, we are ready to render an account, to announce Jesus Christ. Here is the doorway to kerygmatic preaching, the miracle, the event, of a transformed human person.
A final reflection on the kerygmatic sermons of the Scriptures in Acts is that one of them may have run afoul of the basic principles of what is needed for a kerygmatic sermon. It is the sermon which is traditionally referred to as the 8th kerygmatic sermon. It is the address of St. Paul to the Areopagus in Athens (Acts 17:22–31).
It is too lengthy a sermon to reproduce in the main text here but you can look it up, or see it on the PDF file attached above. Most of the elements of the kerygmatic sermon are remarkably absent in the Athens speech. There is no miraculous event which precedes the sermon. Paul never mentions Jesus Christ by name but simply refers to him as “the man God has appointed.” In speaking of the Paschal Mystery, St Paul mentions only the resurrection, but not the cross. And though he does mention repentance, he never quotes Scripture other than to allude to it.
In Paul’s defense, he was speaking to a strictly pagan crowd with high intellectual prowess. But he does in fact set aside most of the kerygmatic principles of preaching Christ. The effects of his sermon are meager at best, gathering only a few converts and not resulting in the establishment of any church at Athens.
It would seem, that Paul himself considered his efforts at Athens poorly. At his next destination, namely Corinth, he made a reflection that, while not mentioning Athens, likely has a lot to do with his experience there. He seems to have resolved to commit to a back to basics approach on his journey from Athens to Corinth: and thus he writes to the Corinthians:
When I came to you, brothers, proclaiming the mystery of God, I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom. I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, in much trembling, and my message and my proclamation were not with persuasive words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of Spirit and power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:1–5)
Biblical scholars, and you dear reader, may well differ from the rather sober assessment of Paul’s speech at Athens that is offered here. But if it is a kerygmatic sermon, it is surely not like any of the others. It bore little fruit and would seem to have provoked some soul-searching on the part of Paul.
All this said, the point of this blog post is not to win the debates over the quality of Paul’s speech before the Areopagus. Rather, it is to set forth the essentials of charismatic preaching. A type of preaching, and witness that some in the Church today argue should be a principal tool in the New Evangelization.
I like many of you in yesterday’s comments have some mixed feelings about this. It is 2012, not A.D. 10. Much has transpired in both the Church and the world in these 2000 years that cannot simply be set aside. And yet for some, the kerygmatic approach may be the only way to reach them. Indeed this may be so for increasing numbers.
Perhaps the best we can say is that the approach we use will have to vary based on the individuals or groups we are addressing. For some, the higher theology, the didache is probably necessary and essential. But for others, the more straightforward and personal approach of the original kerygma may be called for.
But whatever the case, we can never afford to neglect that the only true preacher of Jesus Christ is not someone who is merely read of Him in a book, but someone who has met Him, and knows His power in their life. Nothing can replace personal testimony. Of this the kerygma is insistent, and indeed all preaching and teaching can never miss the essential element of personal testimony, the testimony of a transformed human person.
In one of last week’s blog posts I made use of the term, Kerygma, and a number of people asked me to expand on the meaning of this term. To some extent, it is an example of one of those “Church words” which is rich in meaning to those who know, and have perhaps had been to seminary or studied advanced theology, but is largely unknown to many others. So let’s take a look at this term since it seems to be coming more central as we look to evangelizing a culture, almost from scratch.
The term κήρυγμα, (Kerugma) is a Greek word meaning “proclamation”. The Greek word κηρύσσω, (kerusso) means “herald,” or one who proclaims. And thus the Kerygma is what is proclaimed.
As the apostles began the work of preaching and proclaiming Christ, they proclaimed a message that was rather basic and simple. More extended teaching or instruction (Διδαχή, (didache), in Greek) would come later, after baptism. But the initial proclamation of Christ was simple, and to the point.
This does not mean that later development was both necessary and good. It simply means that the initial proclamation sought to get right to the point. In effect, this kerygmatic approach was seen more as a proclamation addressed directly to the hearer, and is a call to conversion, rather than as an extended appeal to the reason or to motives of credibility.
The basic curricula of the kerygma emphasizes that Jesus is the chosen Messiah of God, the one who was promised. And though he was crucified, He rose gloriously from the dead, appearing to his disciples, and having been exulted at the right hand of the Father through his ascension, now summons all to him, through the ministry of the Church. This proclamation (kerygma) requires a response from us, that we should repent of our sins accept baptism and live in the new life which Christ is offering. This alone will prepare us for the coming judgment that is to come upon all humanity. There is an urgent need to conform ourselves to Christ and be prepared by him for the coming judgment.
This was the basic Kerygma. The Apostles would surely go on to develop more, for example, the theology of grace, extended moral treatises, Christology, Ecclesiology, Trinitarian theology, and so forth. But the deeper things and concepts wait until the soul has first been cleansed of sin, and the darkness of mind that sin brings. Once initiated into the mysteries through baptism, the soul is now able to go on to maturity in Christ.
But step one is the announcement of the kerygma, and the acceptance of it by the believer, so as to enter into the deeper mysteries.
Thus, it would seem that the early Church, and the Apostles tended to preach the basics, and then to draw those who would accept and believe, into the deeper mysteries.
Our tendency today is to unload the entire bale of hay, to instruct converts in the whole counsel of Christ, before they are even initiated, and ask that they ascent to all of it, before they are baptized, or received into the Church.
This is not wrong per se, but there are some today who argue that we should get back to the original plan of proclaiming the basic kerygma, repentance, baptism, and the faith that that implies, and then continue instruction in the deeper things after the enlightenment that baptism brings.
It is too easy today for people to get lost in the weeds, and to miss the essential point. Often for example, people rush to the demands fo the moral norms with little understanding or experience of the grace that life in Christ provides. Within days of entering a catechumenate, the students are being asked to ponder sophisticated notions of sanctifying versus actual grace, transubstantiation, Trinitarian mysteries, and so forth.
It would seem that the earliest days of the church reserved a good deal of this for a time ofμυσταγωγia (mystagogia), a kind of ongoing instruction into the mysteries to which one has already been initiated. In fact, the early church often kept the deeper things hidden until after baptism. There was a kind of a discipline of the secret (disciplina arcanis). And those who were unbaptized could not experience the liturgy, or expect that deeper things should be revealed to them until after they had been enlightened by Baptism, Confirmation and Holy Eucharist.
Today, this sort of notion is generally set aside in favor of the laying out the whole doctrine of Christ to the uninitiated, insistence on their assent to it all, and only after this, an offer a baptism is extended. Again, this modern approach is not per se wrong, but it is different from the approach of the earliest days.
And thus, one approach of the new evangelization today is the proposal to return to a more kerygmatic approach. This is especially the case when we are in effect, starting from scratch with many people today.
In some sense, the current times are not unlike the pagan world in which the apostles first proclaimed the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is true, that the West is more an “angry divorcee,” and the ancient Gentile world which was more like a virgin awaiting her groom. But there are still some parallels, and our presumption that most people heard the basics of Scripture, and the gospel is generally a poor presumption today. Most have not heard Christ, or the Scriptures authentically proclaimed. And to the degree that they have, it has been proclaimed to them with hostility and cynicism by a world and a culture that scoffs at the claims of Christ, his Church, the Christian tradition.
In this current climate and context, there are some who argue for a return to basic apostolic preaching as a fundamental schema in speaking to an unbelieving world. Deeper doctrines can and should be enunciated later but the initial proclamation should stick to basics:
That we are lost in our sins, that those deep drives are destroying us, and that God has sent the Savior, Jesus Christ, who died to set us free and offer us whole new life. It is he who calls to you now, who is drawing you to himself, that he might save you and give to you a whole new life. He died to give you this life, and having been raised from the dead, he ascended to the Father, where he is drawing you to himself even now, calling you by name, and offering you deliverance from every sinful and destructive drive, establishing you in a new, more glorious, and hopeful life. Come to him now, the repent of your sins, and let him begin the good work in you.
This is the basic Kerygma. It is the starting point, the initial proclamation, the summons, the invitation: the conviction of sins, but the announcement of loving hope..
There are eight kerygmatic sermons set forth in the Acts of the Apostles. In tomorrow’s blog post I would like to explore each of these sermons, and extracted their basic details. Today for the sake of brevity, let this be enough, to introduced the concept of what we mean by kerygma.
Here again is a trailer about a catechetical program rooted in the basic Kerygma:
In today’s gospel there is a very familiar story of the healing of the blind man Bartimaeus. As with any familiar story, the danger is that we, upon hearing its opening lines say, “Oh that story,” and we just sort of tune out. But there are many things in the details of the story that we can easily miss. Ultimately the story of Bartimaeus is also our story, for we too must let the Lord heal our blindness and give us sight. One paradox of this gospel that we shall note, is that the man receives his sight as the result of hearing.
Let’s look at this gospel in 6 stages.
Stage I–Perception of the Problem–the text says, As Jesus was leaving Jericho with his disciples, and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man sat by the roadside begging.
Bartimaeus has many troubles, he is blind, and he is poor. But although he is physically blind, he is not spiritually blind. For he knows he has troubles, he knows he is blind. And to know our troubles, to be in touch with our neediness, is an important spiritual insight that many lack.
It is possible for some to feel self-satisfied and to be unaware of how blind, pitiable, poor and naked they really are before God (cf Rev 3:17). Indeed, so poor and so needy that we depend on God for every beat of our heart. But some who are spiritually blind, lose this insight in becoming proud. They fail to ask for help from the Lord, they fail to ask for grace. Jesus once said to the Pharisees Jesus said, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but since you claim you can see, your guilt remains.” (John 9:41) In other words, physical blindness is not their problem, spiritual blindness is. And because they think themselves righteous on their own power, they do not need God nor do they truly seek him. Only humility and a true “vision” and experience of one’s poverty can help us to call out as we should.
But our blind man knows that he is blind and so he calls for help. As we shall see, however, his cries for help need some direction, a need to be properly specified and directed.
So we begin by simply noting this man is blind, but still, he has spiritual insight.
Do we have this? Do we really understand how blind we are? We struggle to see God, we struggle to see and understand ourselves, we struggle to see others with compassion and understanding. Indeed, God is more present to us than anything in this world. Yet, we see all the things of this world, and still struggle to see God. Neither do we see our own dignity, or the dignity and the gift of others, yes, even the dignity of our enemies. We do not see or understand how things work together, and we struggle to see and find meaning in the events of our day. We are also blind to our sin, and we seldom understand what harm our sin actually does.
Yes, we have a great deal of blindness, we do struggle to see. But perhaps our worst blindness is it we do not even consider how blind we are. But too easily, like the Pharisees we go on thinking that we know a few things, and that therefore we know many things.
Consider the humility of the blind man, who knows he is blind who knows he needs help, and grace, and mercy. It is a humility that opens the door. Stage one in our journey must be the perception of the problem.
Stage II–the Proclamation that is Prescribed. – The text says On being told it was Jesus of Nazareth who was passing by, he began to cry out and say “Jesus son of David have pity on me.”
Note the subtle but important transition here. Up until this point he was calling upon anyone, who happened to pass by, for help. But no mere passerby, nor anyone in this world, can ultimately help him with his real problem.
It is the same with us. Though we may turn to science, or medicine, philosophy, economics or politics, none of these can really help us. At best they can specify what is wrong, give us temporary medicines, passing comforts, etc. But all their solutions will be rooted in this world, which is passing away.
True vision can only be granted by the Lord, who opens for us a vision of glory, and who alone can draw safely to that place where joys will never end and visions never cease.
The blind man is told of the presence of Jesus. And hearing this, he directs his cry away from any mere passerby to the Lord who alone can heal him: Jesus, son of David, have pity on me! The world, and passersby can get him money, perhaps a meal, but only Jesus can give him meaning, the true vision that he really needs to see.
And do not miss this point that’s seeing comes paradoxically through hearing. For faith comes by hearing, and hearing from the word of God (cf Rom 10:17). It is a truth that faith is about hearing, not seeing. For most frequently, we doubt what we see. Even if our eyes see marvels, we think, “They have a way of doing that.” No, the eye is never satisfied with seeing (cf Eccl. 1:8). Faith comes by hearing, and faith is obedience to what is heard. We walk by faith, by an inner seeing, not by physical sight.
Thus, it is by hearing that the blind man will come to see Jesus who can help them to see. He hears from others that Jesus is passing by, and he takes up the proclamation that is prescribed, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!”
Stage III–the Perseverance that Produces–the text says, And they rebuked him, telling him to be silent. Yet he kept calling all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me!” Jesus stopped and said, “call him.” So they called the blind man saying to him, “Take courage; get up. Jesus is calling you.”
Is it true fact, that those of us who seek to put our trust in the Lord, and call on him, will often experience rebuke, hostility, and ridicule from the world. Note that the blind man ignores all of this. And so should we. He has heard the Name above all names, who alone in heaven and earth can save, and he calls upon him.
Yes, Jesus does delay, he does not answer him right away. But the blind man persevered, calling out all the more, and eventually, Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”
Why does God delay? This is a very deep mystery, but it is clear that one of the effects of his delay would seem to be to test our faith and strengthen it. In the end, it is not an incantation that saves us, but faith. Simply shouting, “In the name of Jesus!” Is not enough. The Name of Jesus is not some incantation like, “Open sesame.” Rather, it is an announcement of faith, and faith is more than words. Ultimately, it is not words alone that save us, but the faith that must underlie those words, “Jesus! Save me”
Stage IV–the Priority that is Presented–the text says, He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus.
Do not miss this important detail. His cloak was probably the most valuable thing he owned. In that climate, a very arid climate, it gets cool in the evening after sunset. The temperature drops rapidly. So critical was the cloak, that Scripture forbade the taking of a cloak as collateral for a loan: If a man is poor, do not go to sleep with his pledge in your possession. Return his cloak to him by sunset so that he may sleep in it. (Deut 24:12-13)
But note, this man cast aside his cloak, and leaving it behind, he went to Jesus. Thus, he leaves behind perhaps the most valuable and necessary thing for his survival in this world. To miss a meal, might be inconvenient but it would not kill him. But to sleep one night, a cold night, without his cloak might well end his life through hypothermia. But leaving everything, he runs to the Lord.
What of us? What are we willing to leave behind to find Christ? An old gospel song says, I’d rather have Jesus than silver and gold. Another old hymn says, There’s nothing between my soul in the Savior. Is there? Are you willing to leave it behind?? Are you and I free enough to do so?
Stage V–The Permission that is Procured–the text says, Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man replied to him, Master, I want to see!”
Why does Jesus asked this question? Can he not see what a blind man needs? Perhaps.
But honestly, healing takes courage. The fact is, in life, most seek mere relief. True healing takes courage because it brings change, and new demands. If the blind man is healed, it would no longer be acceptable that he should sit and beg. Having been healed, more will be expected of him. His life will be irrevocably changed.
Yes, to be healed requires courage. Many of us wonder, of the Lord’s delay in answering our prayers. Perhaps a question from last week’s gospel is applicable as we cry to the Lord: Do you have any idea what you are asking?” Often we do not.
Truth be told, most of us want relief more than healing. There is a big difference. The Lord is in the healing business, but most of us just want relief. Do not miss what the Lord says here. In effect, he says to the blind man, and to us, “Are you really sure you want healing?” The Lord respects us, and our freedom. He wants our consent before he goes to work. And often, though many of us think we want healing, we don’t really know what we are asking.
The Lord waits, until a request makes real sense. He knows that most of us are not always ready for what he really offers. He asks, and when our yes becomes definitive, he goes to work.
Stage VI – The Path that is Pursued–the text says, Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus on the way.
As we have already seen, true healing brings forth radical change. And now man who sat by the road begging, sees, but is also up and walking about. And what is he doing? He is following Jesus. For faith has saved him, and faith not only gives sight, but summons us to obedience, an obedience that has us walk in the path of the Lord.
You see, (pardon the pun), faith is more than an offer of relief. True faith instills real change. A change in direction, a change in the way we walk.
And thus this gospel speaks to us of a man who was blind. And paradoxically he received his faith by hearing. For he heard of Jesus and called on him. Yes, his sight came from his hearing. And faith grants to vision by hearing. True vision, is to see Christ, and having seen him by hearing, to follow after him.
I have it on the best authority that as he followed Jesus up the road, he sang this song:
