An Alternative Interpretation…

Is this figure God, or an unjust king?

This week in the lectionary, we got the opportunity to hear the the same story, the parable of the talents, from two different writers, used in two different liturgical settings. Found in both Matthew and Luke, it is a very familiar passage, and the sermon that follows is often just as common: God gives each of us gifts, and we are expected to use them for his glory. It’s a nice message, sure. But is that what Jesus is actually trying to tell us? I would like to offer an alternate interpretation for discernment.

Today’s first reading from 2 Maccabees helps to frame the story in a different light. Having already tortured and killed six of a woman’s seven sons because they refused to renounce the LORD, Antiochus turned to the last son: “As the youngest brother was still alive, the king appealed to him, not with mere words, but with promises on oath, to make him rich and happy if he would abandon his ancestral customs: he would make him his Friend and entrust him with high office.” Ultimately, the youngest son declines his offer and accepts death rather than denounce his faith in the LORD; all of the money, power, and status in the world are not worth the price of supporting evil.

Using this message as a foundation, I think the traditional interpretation of the parable of the talents is largely insufficient. Take, for instance, the role of the nobleman. If he is a symbol for God from whom we receive “talents,” why do his servants send ahead to say they wish him not to be king? Why does he “take up where he does not lay down,” or “harvest where he does not plant?” Why does he condemn the servent for not engaging in usury, an act clearly condemned by God in the Law? Why, just before the parable of the sheep and the goats in which Jesus rewards those who help the poor (Matthew 25:31-46), would a God figure say, “For to everyone who has, more will be given and he will grow rich; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away”? These are all qualities of an unjust ruler, greedy and merciless to his people; they are not the qualities of God.

When we begin to understand this, the handing over of talents is almost a perfect parallel the story of Antiochus. Wishing to further himself, the nobleman entrusts his money to three servants with the hopes that they will carry out his unjust business while he’s gone. Two of the men decide to accept the offer to take part in the unjust system, and the nobleman rewards them with money and friendship based on their profitability. But the third servant, similar to the youngest son, does nothing. He recognizes that the king is a wicked person and refuses to take part in his unjust system. Because of this, he is denied, suffers greatly, and is put to death for his insubordination.

Taken together, I see the message of these passages to be that the world and God have different expectations, and it is impossible at times to follow both. The world will offer us many things, fulfill many of our temporal needs, even make us very happy and comfortable, but sometimes it will require us to compromise our faith. It’s also a reminder that truly following God is not an easy task, and that even Jesus endured suffering because he challenged the evil of the world and sought to bring justice to all. But for those who follow in his footsteps and endure the trials of the world, there is hope for redemption and just judgment in the God’s Kingdom.

I offer this not as a condemnation of the common homily or the priests that give them, but rather as an alternate interpretation for prayer and discernment. Hopefully it is grounded in some truth and it may be helpful for my prayer and discernment process moving forward.

A Friendly Reminder

Found on a New York street between Rockefeller Center and St. Patrick's Cathedral, this statue of Francis is a microcosm of his life: remind those with great wealth and power to be humble before their God through simplicity and radical obedience.

One day, a migrant worker was traveling through a town when a Rabbi spotted him and started a conversation. “Who do you work for,” the Rabbi asked. The man replied, “I do not work for anyone. I just travel from town to town and try to make a living. What about you? Who do you work for?” Surprised, the Rabbi thought to himself, I’m clearly a Rabbi. I am in charge of the Temple, the law, and all of my people. How does he not know this? As he thought, he realized that none of these were sufficient answers to the question: Who do I work for? He realized at that point that he had been working for himself the whole time, and that he should have been working for God. He said to the man, “How would you like to work for me? All you have to do if follow me around when I’m in the Temple, enforcing the law, and leading my people, and remind me for whom I work in case I forget again.”

In the first session of our workshop entitled “The Future of Religious Life,” Seán Salmon, FMS, posed this story to us with a surprising message: as women and men religious, we must always play the role of the migrant worker, not the Rabbi. Through our radical expressions of poverty, chastity, and obedience, we must always remind the Church for whom it works, unafraid to upset the status quo of the hierarchy. He reminded us of the many reforms in the Church, and how it is often religious orders that bring the Church back down to earth; bring sinners back to an uninviting institution; and push the Church ahead when it is stuck in stagnation. The day that we become unable or unwilling to remind the Church of this detail, trading counter-culture for comfort, the Gospel for an institution, the spirit of the law for the letter of the law, is the day that the Church begins to forget.

For an introduction to a workshop, I can’t think of too many more motivating messages than that! The whole time I was thinking about Francis’ message to the very corrupt Church at the time, and the example he lived each day as a reminder. He didn’t call for a violent upheaval of the Church leaders or choose to leave it to start his own: he lived what he believed to be the truest expression of the Gospel, not caring whether or not it matched the lives of the holy men and women around him. This act of “Preaching the Gospel at all times, using words when necessary” (a quote that he did not actually say), inspired thousands of people, both clergy and lay, to give up their previous lives and live a life of great reform in the Church. It is this sort of life that each and every one of us hopes to exemplify, sending a friendly reminder to those who lead that the Church does not work for itself: it works for God. Let us never allow it forget that.

 

Finally, a Franciscan!

Discernment through the eyes of Francis allows us to identify the thing we seek to avoid, and compels us to embrace it.

Based on our experience with the religious world so far, it would appear that the Jesuits have a monopoly on spirituality, influencing (or tainting) the way in which almost every community prays; the Spiritual Exercises have become the norm for retreats and workshops, and it leaves us wondering sometimes, “What about Franciscan spirituality?”

Ask and you shall receive! In a more than refreshing change, 56 members of many different Franciscan orders met this week in Garrison, NY for a truly Franciscan experience. Looking exclusively through the eyes of Francis and Clare, Sister Clare D’Auria, OSF, spent the week leading us in a journey of discernment to a greater understanding of God, self, and community. This meant a strong focus on the Gospels (Francis’ rule), a theology focused on the Incarnation (God made flesh, importance of creation), and using the concrete and practical elements of our worldly experience as a connection to God (Eucharist, the Cross, manger).

Since none of these characteristics are all that specific, the spectrum of “true franciscanism” is quite wide. At this workshop, we had men and women wearing brown, tan, grey, and black habits, as well as some that didn’t own a habit; communities ranged from fully contemplative to non-stop active; individuals were politically conservative and liberal, liturgically traditional and charismatic, theologically orthodox and progressive; and their work included teaching, social work, coordination of liturgy, prayer, and manual labor (to name just a few).

And yet, there was a spirit that transcended all of these particularities, a charism and history that connected us all. Despite the wide range of possibilites within the Franciscan family, there is still a spirituality that connects us all, and separates us from the many others ou there. Being very new to Franciscan life, I found it to be wonderfully eye opening to see the many ways our great saint has inspired people throughout history, and to understand that there are many different, yet all connected, ways of knowing knowing God through Francis.

It was this last part that made the workshop for me: beginning to look at God through the eyes of Francis. Being so new to Franciscan spirituality, I can’t even pretend to be able to articulate what that means or even how my perspective changed. All I can say is that it connected in a way that other spiritualities haven’t in the past; there was a comfort, both spiritual and intellectual, that made me feel right at home. When I began to discern my life through his eyes, God became so much more apparent in my past as well as in the present. It’s an experience like this that leaves me thinking, “Finally, a Franciscan!”

To see the beauty of Graymoor, check out the updated shutterfly website.

One Down, One to Go

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As I mentioned in the last post, I had planned on bringing my computer with me on our six day, double workshop trip this week so that I could reflect as it was happening. Realizing Tuesday before we left that it might be more of a distraction than an aid, I decided against it (evident from the lack of posts since then). It has ultimately been a good decision, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use my iPhone to offer a sneak peak as to what’s to come…

Let’s see… There were 56 people from almost a dozen different Franciscan communities present… The building was 8 stories tall on the side of a mountain (the picture above is one of the many stunning views)… Dennis, Sergio and I starred in a talent show act with about 24 hours preparation, Ron did a stand up act, Ramon did a Filipino dance, and Ed sang some songs in Spanish… We spent the afternoon today at a Poor Clare monastery laughing almost constantly… and now we’re essentially the only people in one of the most formidable buildings ever built waiting for a workshop called “The Future of the Church.”

Wow. It’s been an exhausting week so far, and there’s more to come! I promise a full report, loads of pictures, and maybe even a video when we get back…

New Photos Website!

As some of you may have noticed, the Photos tab at the top of the screen is very difficult to format and is often completely jumbled. After a lot of work, I have found an alternative: a Shutterfly website. Similar to Photobucket, Flickr, and Picasa, Shutterfly is a website that allows users to upload and organize pictures easily and neatly. It’s not 100% updated yet, but I thought I would share it with everyone while I’m working on it.

There are a number of ways to find it: 1) type breakinginthehabit.shutterfly.com into your web browser and bookmark the page, 2) go to the old Photos page and click the link, or 3) click “Shutterfly Website” on the right side of the screen underneath the picture of the habit.

I will let everyone know in a new post when I upload new pictures so there’s no need to check it everyday. Hopefully this works out better than the other Photos page did!

The postulants and I are off to back-to-back workshops tomorrow so look for some posts towards the end of the week! Thanks again for reading!