Saturday, January 13, 2018

Homily for 14 Jan 2018

14 Jan 2018
2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

We see here in the gospel the beginning of a relationship.  Andrew and another person go to Jesus and they spend the day with him.  And very shortly after, Simon Peter begins his relationship with Jesus.  But this isn’t just a “friendly” type of relationship between Jesus and his first followers; it’s a relationship between a rabbi and his talmidim [tal-mee-DEEM] (which is the Hebrew word for “disciples”).

And the relationship between a rabbi and his talmidim might be described as being like the relationship between a teacher and his or her students.  But it’s much more intense and personal that than.  The talmidim—the disciples—would commit themselves to become like the rabbi—like the teacher—as much as possible.  And that’s quite a bit different than how we think.  When we go to school, we don’t necessarily want to be just like Mrs. ----, or Mr. ----.  If anything, we want to be ourselves, and we look to teachers to help us reach our potential.

But with a rabbi and his talmidim, his disciples aren’t trying to be better versions of themselves; they’re trying to be just like the rabbi.  They see their fullest potential as a human being is to emulate, to imitate the rabbi.  And so, the rabbi is more like what we’d call a “hero,” a mentor.  The disciple looks at the rabbi and says, “I want to be just like him.”

And so, when Andrew, the other person, and Simon Peter spent the day with Jesus, they weren’t just “hanging out.”  And they weren’t simply becoming friends with Jesus.  They were beginning to form a unique type of relationship; an especially intense and personal relationship between themselves and their rabbi.

And I say “their rabbi” because there were lots of other rabbis around, too—John the Baptist, for example.  We usually don’t think of John as a rabbi, but he did have his own group of disciples.  And the rabbis didn’t generally go out and look around for disciples—the disciples came to them.  It’s maybe like today and how we apply to go to college.  Not everybody “gets in;” not everybody learned from a rabbi, not everybody “made the cut.”  Only those people who the rabbi thought would be good disciples were accepted.

And so, to enter a rabbi’s “school” was an honor; to be one of his talmidim—one of his disciples—was a privilege.  But, as we know, Jesus also approached particular people and said, “Come, follow me.”  And immediately they left everything and went with him.  It was one thing to be accepted as one of a rabbi’s disciples, but it was something entirely different to be asked by the rabbi himself to be his disciple.

You know, if we’re asked to do something by someone we admire, our response is immediate: “Yes, I’d love to do it!  It would be an honor!”  We would drop everything and go.  And that’s the kind of intense relationship we’re talking about between Jesus and his first disciples.  They immediately said “yes” when he asked them to “come, follow me.”  They lived with him, followed him from place to place, learned from him, ate with him; they shared his life, and they let him draw them into his life. 

It was an intense and personal relationship they were building.  But, again, they wanted to be just like him.  And that, in a nutshell, is really what it means to be a “disciple” of Jesus.  It means going to Jesus and saying, “Come into my home, into my mind, into my heart, and even into my body.”  It means spending time with him in prayer, learning from his timeless teachings; it means sharing my life with him, and especially letting him share his life with me.  It means, as John the Baptist says, “I must decrease, and he must increase.”  And the overall effect is that I become like Jesus; I become the spitting image of him.  That’s what it means to be a “disciple” of Jesus.

And discipleship is built on personal relationship with the Lord.  And, really, personal relationship is why people today join the Church (or a church); it’s why people have let themselves be martyred; ideally, it’s why we come to Mass on Sundays.  Personal relationship with Christ is why people become priests, and monks and nuns, and teachers of the faith at home and everywhere.  Personal relationship is why we let ourselves be guided by Christian morals and social norms, and so on.  It’s at the heart of our existence as Christians—from birth and into eternity: “personal relationship” with Jesus—our Mentor, our Hero, our Friend and Teacher.

The question that we each have to ponder, however, for ourselves is: Am I a disciple of Jesus?  And that’s not an accusatory question; it’s legitimate.  In Scripture, there are three or four different ways people are described as being in relation to Jesus, from being the closest to him, to being the farthest from him.  There are: the Apostles, the disciples, the crowds, and then a group called “the Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes, chief priests, and elders of the people”—basically, everybody who didn’t buy into Jesus.

And so, when we ask ourselves: Am I a disciple of Jesus? it’s a question of which bunch of people I’d see myself as belonging to.  *Now, an important thing to keep in mind here [bold-faced, italics, underlined!], is that Jesus has an intense love for all of them.  Jesus loves the Apostles as much as he loves everybody who rejected him, including Judas.  He gave his life for everybody.  So it’s not that one group is better, or more loved by God, than the others.

So when we ask ourselves: Am I a disciple of Jesus, you’re simply asking: How much do I want to be like him?  As much as one of the Apostles?  As much as one of his disciples?  As much as one of those people in the crowd?  Now, never mind how successfully or unsuccessfully we imitate Jesus…that’s not the point.  The point is: How much do I desire to be like him?  And have I let him influence me?  Have I asked him to be my Rabbi?  That’s the question.  It’s a question of discipleship; it’s a question of my personal relationship with the Lord.

Now, some of you might say, “Well, I don’t know that I’ve even met the Lord.  How am I supposed to know if I want to be like him?”  And that’s an excellent point.  You have to meet the Teacher first.

When I was studying the organ in college, I had a couple of different professors at different points in my education.  And there was a huge difference between them.  With the first one, I had three…and a half…lessons.  Now, he was clearly an excellent organist; he had skills far beyond mine.  But he was also too personally critical.  He was too abrasive and was the opposite of inspiring.  At least, that’s how I experienced him.  And so, half way through my fourth lesson…I just got up and left.  He was not somebody I wanted to be like.  That day I chose not to be one of his disciples.

But the other organ professor was wonderful!  She was a fantastic musician, but she also had a very good heart.  She was tough on me sometimes, but I could take it from her…because I had experienced her truly as a teacher, as a “master” who I wanted to be like.  So, if you’re saying, “Well, I don’t know that I’ve even met the Lord.  How am I supposed to know if I want to be like him?” you’re absolutely right!  You have to meet the Teacher first.  And that’s why Jesus called his disciples in the first place…

After the Resurrection and Ascension of Jesus, people still encountered him…but in the Apostles.  The Apostles had been transformed into the likeness of Jesus; they lived their discipleship and personal relationship with Jesus to the full, so that when others met them they were meeting Jesus.  It’s as Saint Paul said to the Galatians [2:20]: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”  It’s also why he says, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” [1 Cor 11]. 

There’s kind of a domino effect here.  And it goes throughout history.  Jesus taught those first disciples, twelve of whom went to the “next level” and became his Apostles.  Those Twelve were sent out to make more disciples.  And from those disciples, some of them were chosen to “go out and make disciples” as the next generation of Apostles.  And from those disciples, some of them were chosen to “go out and make still more disciples” as yet another generation of Apostles.

If we want to encounter Christ in the flesh today, we have to meet those people who are his Apostles and disciples…today: people who have such a personal and intense relationship with the Lord that we encounter him through them.  (Of course, that’s the whole purpose of the Church: to be the face and the hands and the voice of Jesus in the world…so that people will be drawn not to us but to him and say, “I want to be just like him.”)

So if we’re wondering, “How can I encounter Jesus so that I can even know if I want to follow him as a disciple?” the answer is: Look at people who are Christ-like.  People who are genuinely merciful, kind, just, truthful, humble, and so on; people who know Scripture, who value it; people who pray because they love the Lord; people who have a deep inner joy and contentment, even in the hard times of life.  Look to them to see Jesus. 

Now, if you’re somebody who’d put yourself in the “disciple” category, good!  Be aware that others “in the crowd” are looking at you to see Jesus.  Let that personal relationship with the Lord come through…so that others might see and “give glory to God.”

We see in our gospel today the beginning of a relationship between Jesus the Rabbi and three of his first tarmidim, his first disciples.  And, really, every day for us can be the beginning of a new—or more personal—relationship with our Teacher.  And it begins by somebody—me or somebody else—saying, “Behold! The Lamb of God…there he is…learn from him.”  There’s Jesus in that person over there.  There’s Jesus in that bishop over there.  There’s Jesus…over there at the altar.

“Behold, the Lamb of God!”  Not a piece of bread, but our Teacher.  Jesus, Rabbi, will you come stay with us?  Can we come and stay with you?

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