Posts Tagged 'Canticle 9'

For Nov. 17, 2013: Proper 28, Year C

The Reading            Isaiah 65:17-25

The prophet Isaiah speaks to Israelites who, after exile in Babylon, return to Jerusalem laid waste, the temple burned, and their lives in ruins. Isaiah attributed these disasters and more to the people’s disobedience. This Sunday’s reading, however, sings joyously of God’s gracious intentions for the people.

The Response            Canticle 9

“Cry aloud inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel.”

The Epistle            2 Thessalonians 3:6-13

While the Old Testament this Sunday prophesies grace, the epistle lays down the law. The author, who may or may not be Paul, is vexed with first-century believers who, instead of doing productive work, are ataktos peripatountos—less nearly ‘living in idleness’, as our translation has it, than ‘going around sowing disorder’.

The Gospel            Luke 21:5-19

“‘By your endurance you will gain your souls.’”

 

Further thoughts

As the beginning of Advent nears, the Proper 28 readings fittingly touch on order and irony.

The passage from Isaiah is a glowing depiction of orderliness and rightness. We deeply feel the unfairness of little children having to lose their parents and parents having to bury their children; we perceive wrongness in people dying too young to collect on their 401(k)s; in nature documentaries, we flinch when the defenseless little zebra calf falls to the ravening lion even as we concede that the lion is simply being who the lion is. Isaiah foresees a world in which things are put right, and it is tremendously appealing.

On the face of it, the epistle goes in a different direction. 2 Thessalonians 3:10—“Anyone unwilling to work should not eat”—is widely quoted out of context as a condemnation of the chronically lazy; it resonates well with the sense of enjoying what one has properly earned that makes Isaiah’s vision appealing, and the NRSV’s rendering of the Greek phrase ataktos peripatountos in 3:3 and 3:11 as ‘living in idleness’ contributes to that impression. The problem that the passage addresses, however, isn’t mere laziness: ataktos is ‘disorderly’ and peripatountos is literally ‘around-walking’ (as in English peripatetic), so this is active interference. The rest of 3:11 calls the ataktos believers not ergazomenous ‘working’ but periergazomenous; the play on words suggests the painful irony of busyness that is badly off target. In such a world, professing Christians toting prayer books toddle off for a comfortable round of gossip about people we just finished hugging and sharing Eucharist with. In this world budgets dictate slapdash subsoil containment from which toxins leach into drinking water; monuments to piety and/or greed soar and shine while those who have never caught an even break—and, too often, those damaged while serving our nation at war—squat in doorsteps and scrounge in dumpsters for food.

It is messy, this world of ours, and in today’s gospel Jesus fails to do much about it. He doesn’t promise to strengthen the Temple or eliminate war or make natural disasters stop, or to keep out of jail or the media or others’ gossip, nor to keep our families from splintering, nor to eradicate any of the predators of which this world is so full (including the two-footed ones, and sometimes that means us).

What he does promise is to give us the wisdom and the heart to stay in this messy world and speak his words and be his hands and feet, if we choose to listen and keep listening. For, in God’s richest irony, it is meeting the deepest fears and needs of God’s children around us with God’s love that is the real work of the Kingdom.

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For Dec. 16, 2012: 3 Advent, Year C

The Reading            Zephaniah 3:14-20

Zephaniah, a prophet of the seventh century BC, mostly denounces Israel’s corruption and failure to follow God’s ways. In his book, however, is this passage with the remarkable image of God as both warrior and lover, singing out loud for joy in all God’s people and, at the last, bringing them home. Canticle 9 or Isaiah 12:2-6, familiar as an Easter Vigil response, continues to ring out the growing joy of Advent.

The Response            Canticle 9, Isaiah 12:2-6

The Epistle            Philippians 4:4-7

In last week’s epistle, Paul exulted in the Christians at Philippi. In closing the epistle, he sends them out into the world, lovingly challenging them to do four important tasks to open them to the peace of God: rejoice; again, rejoice; become notorious for being gentle; instead of worrying, pray. We do well to pay heed and follow suit.

The Gospel            Luke 3:7-18

 

Further thoughts

Violence has staggered our nation’s heart this Advent tide of 2012: twenty children will not wake on December 25 to bulging stockings and holiday feasts or whatever else their parents had had in store for the day, and six households must cope with the sudden loss of the beloved mother or aunt who made the best latkes or always brought “A Visit from St. Nicholas” most vividly to life in her reading.

But the sword always lies over Christmas—the sword that, as Simeon prophesied, would later pierce Mary’s heart when she saw her son hanging on the cross, the blood that symbolizes the holy days of the protomartyr Stephen on December 26 and John the apostle on December 27; and December 28 is the commemoration of the Holy Innocents whom paranoid Herod, stung by the Wise Men’s word of an infant born to be king, ordered his thugs to slaughter.

Whether one ascribes evil to a literal Satan outside of us or to the abundant flaws and fears within us, it cannot be denied that the powers of darkness are very strong. Under such circumstances, the exultation of Zephaniah and Isaiah sounds much more like wishful thinking than like fulfillment, and it is small wonder that some in our society have called for armed guards to be stationed in every school.

The hard reality is that we cannot possibly muster enough guards to station at every school, every mall, every theatre, every post office, every jogging trail, every lonely stretch of road or inner-city curbside, every public restroom, or every child’s bedroom.

What we can do is what John the Baptist and Jesus the Messiah told us to do: repent, share what we have with those who have less, refrain from grasping for more money or for more power over others than is appropriate—in short, to look after one another, to bear one another’s burdens, and to love one another. Doing so day by day won’t hew down the sick or evil person who is armed and bent on mayhem. But to guide that person not to resort to mayhem in the first place, what better hope have we than practicing the love of Christ?