Sunday Meditation: Two or Three Gathered in His Name

For Year A’s Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Gospel reading breaks into the fourth of Matthew’s discourse, the Discourse on the Church.   One can read this Gospel passage in a very castigating way, but the Church, who matches this reading with the “love-thy-neighbor” commandment as articulated in St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans and St. Matthew himself in this chapter surrounds this passage with Parables of the Lost Sheep and Unforgiving Servant and the direction to Peter to forgive an infinite amount of times.  Whatever exclusion that sinner is faced with, in no uncertain terms are we not to forgive and be charitable. 

I’m always curious to see what Gina Hens-Piazza from America Media has to say on the Sunday Gospel passages, and on this she has the same perspective as I have just stated.  She cites various gentiles Jesus shows compassion to, and she cites the various passages where Jesus is compassionate to tax collectors: Mt 9:9-13, Lk 19:1-10, Mt 9:10-13. 

What’s curious to me, and frankly I haven’t heard anyone mention this, is that Matthew himself was a tax collector.  He would be the last person to condemn all tax collectors as inexpiable, but he would also be conscious of the separation of those not in communion.  As to gentiles, Matthew just three Sundays ago (20^th Sunday in Ordinary Time) gave us the healing of the Canaanite woman’s daughter.  Matthew the apostle was there to witness it.

Gina sums up her exegesis with this:

 

Therefore, when Jesus invites us to treat resistant wrongdoers like a Gentile or tax collector, he means for us to continue recognizing them, never to close the door on them or anyone. He urges us never to justify excluding or ending our outreach to them. Finally, we must resist deciding that they are unreconcilable. Such verdicts are the sole prerogative of our God, the Great Judge, whom Jesus taught us in the parable of the unforgiving servant, forgives even those who can’t pay their debts. And, perhaps, each one of us, at some time in our life, can be grateful for that.

 

 

 

Today’s Gospel:

 

 

Jesus said to his disciples:

"If your brother sins against you,

go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.

If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.

If he does not listen,

take one or two others along with you,

so that 'every fact may be established

on the testimony of two or three witnesses.'

If he refuses to listen to them, tell the church.

If he refuses to listen even to the church,

then treat him as you would a Gentile or a tax collector.

Amen, I say to you,

whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Again, amen, I say to you,

if two of you agree on earth

about anything for which they are to pray,

it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father.

For where two or three are gathered together in my name,

there am I in the midst of them."

~Mt: 18:15-20

 

 

Fr. Joseph Mary of the Capuchin Friars, one of my favorite homilists, provides a very good exegetical homily.

 

Fr. Joseph:

There's perhaps no greater antithesis to the divine nature of the church than the divisions and hostilities which have splintered the body of Christ. In this Sunday's gospel, Jesus gives his disciples a clear mandate for dealing with divisions and especially with a brother who sins. Now, at first glance, this passage seems like an enumeration of the rules of an institution. If a brother sins against you, go and speak to him personally regarding his transgression. he refuses to listen, take two or three others to act as witnesses. If he still refuses to listen, take the matter to the church.  And if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a gentile or a tax collector. In other words, excommunicate them from the fellowship of the Christian community.  Again, these seem like juridical regulations for dealing with obstinate sinners, laws governing the punishment for heretical obstinacy.  And that's a fair reading.

 

Jesus begins by saying, "If your brother sins against you, go and try to convince him of his error between you and him alone." Now, if your brother sins against you, Jesus is reminding us the members of the Christian community are truly brothers and sisters. The catechism teaches that we're united more intimately by the bonds of our baptism than we are by our blood relations.  Within the Christian community, we should truly see in the other a brother and a sister before God. This first sentence sets the tone for everything that follows. It's not simply if a man sins against you or a lawyer sins against you or a brick layer sins against you. It's if your brother sins against you. Everything that follows has to be understood from the perspective of the unity of the Christian community.

This is an outstanding point.  It’s a brother who is being wayward, and so there are certain bonds which cannot easily be dissolved.  The passage is first and foremost addressing Chrisitan community.

 

And if this last attempt should fail, Jesus says, treat the offending brother as you would a gentile or tax collector.  Again, juridically this can mean excommunication. But even excommunication is never intended simply for the sake of punishment. It's medicinal, intended to bring the obstinate brother to his senses.  After all, how did Jesus Christ treat the Gentiles and the tax collectors? He answered the prayer of the gentile woman, and a tax collector was among his apostles. Jesus sat down and ate with sinners, hoping through merciful love to draw them to himself. There's an undeniable undercurrent throughout this gospel, a plea for unity. It's an echo of the prayer that Christ will utter to the father at the last supper that they may all be one father as you are in me and I am in you.  That they may be one in us. So authentic unity must be rooted in Christ, rooted in charity, and rooted in truth.

That is quite a fascinating take on this passage.  Ultimately it is a call for unity despite the need for separation.

 

For the pastoral homily, I’m going to go to someone new, Fr. Yamil Samalot Rivera, O.P. with the “Word of Hope” sermon from Dominicans of St. Albert Province.

 

 

Fr. Yamil Samalot Rivera:

This Sunday's gospel brings us a message full of love and hope.  On one hand, we can feel Jesus' immense desire to save us.  Offering opportunity after opportunity, for us to turn our lives around.  First, he sends someone from the community to help us.  If that isn't enough, he sends more brothers and sisters to support us.  If we still need more guidance, he calls upon the whole community, the church.  And if we still refuse to set our paths straight, he leaves us to live without belonging like Gentiles

That’s a bright and sunny way to view this passage that so many see as stern. 

 

On the other hand, and this is perhaps the most beautiful and rich theological aspect of this text, Jesus reveals the power present in the life of the community.  It is worth recalling the words the master spoke to Peter two Sundays ago, in the 1st part of chapter 16 of the gospel of Matthew.  The power given to Simon Peter, the rock of our church.  Jesus now grants to the entire community of faith, of which Peter is to be leader and shepherd.  Amen.  I say to you, “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

 

Our Lord assures us that a life of communion in the community makes him truly present.  For where 2 or 3 are gathered together in my name. There I am in the midst of them.  It is almost an Eucharistic power.  Coming together in agreement and faith makes him present.  Jesus has given immense power to the church as a community of faith so that we will not be lost, so that miracles may happen so that his saving presence continues in the world.  And mind you, this applies to each and every one of the baptized to all of us who strive to love our brothers and sisters as Jesus loves us.  Let us make a commitment, not only to live in community, but to live in communion in our communities.

This brings it again to community and communion.  The Eucharistic element here is rather interesting, but “Communion” is another name for Eucharist. 

I also urge to go back to three years ago where I embedded a video of Dr. Brant Pitre’s exegesis of this passage.

 

 

 

Sunday Meditation: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."

 

 

This is one of the most beloved of Catholic hymns, “Alleluia! Sing to Jesus!” performed by Catholic Music Initiative.

 

Alleluia! Sing to Jesus! His the scepter, his the throne;

Alleluia! His the triumph, his the victory alone;

Hark! The songs of peaceful Zion thunder like a mighty flood;

Jesus out of every nation has redeemed us by his Blood.

 

Alleluia! King eternal, You the Lord of lords we own.

Alleluia! Born of Mary, Earth your footstool, heaven your throne:

You within the veil have entered, robed in flesh, our great High Priest;

Here on earth both Priest and Victim in the Eucharistic feast.

 

Alleluia! Alleluia! Glory be to God on high;

Alleluia to the Savior who has won the victory;

Alleluia to the Spirit, Font of love and sanctity;

Alleluia! Alleluia! To the triune majesty.

 

His the victory!

Gospel of Matthew, Part 3

You can read Part 1 here.  

Part 2, here.  

The fourth discourse in Matthew comprises chapter eighteen.  This is the discourse on the nature of community, and so we see each section a theme in some way that comments on the way elements of the community are supposed to relate to each other.  The discourse seems to divide into five parts.  Here’s how I divide it.

1. The relationship between man and heaven.

2. The relationship between man and sin.

3. The Parable of the Lost Sheep

4. How to deal with an unrepentant sinner.

5. The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant.

Let me put out some thoughts on each of these.  The image of a child returns in that first part of the discourse when Jesus is asked who in heaven is the greatest.  I love the rhythmic motifs that Matthew as writer forms in his Gospel.  The image of a child appears rhythmically through Matthew: Jesus as infant, the slaughter of the innocents, the simile of the apostles as little ones, and now here.  Here Christ physically takes a child and places him as the center of attention.  As I mentioned before, the child doesn’t so much symbolize innocence, as I’ve always thought, but stands for the lowest and least powerful.

On the second part of the discourse, I’ve always focused on either the beginning (causing a child to sin) or the end (cutting off a limb or plucking out an eye) but for some reason this time I focused on the middle: “Woe to the world because of things that cause sin! Such things must come, but woe to the one through whom they come!” (7). I must have glossed over that line every single time before.  Has anyone really ever thought about that verse before?  Woe means grief or distress or affliction.  The first sentence is clear: grief to the world because of things that cause sin.  Interesting that the woe comes not from the sin itself but from what causes sin.  The second sentence is startling and perhaps unexpected for me: “Such things must come,” meaning those that cause sin must come.  It sounds like it’s part of nature, the condition of earthly life.  Of course we know this.  God lets sin happen, so it is part of nature.  But to come from Christ’s mouth seems surprising to me.  When Christ says, woe to the one who causes sin my mind jumps to the serpent in the Garden and Judas at the Passion events.

I am never sure when Jesus is using exaggeration, but clearly in saying to cut ones hand off and pluck one’s eye out to prevent sin, that is over the top exaggeration.  Even I can see that one.  But can everyone?  The church father Origen took those words very literally and castrated himself to prevent sins of impurity. 

I love the Parable of the Lost Sheep.  What is the relationship in question here?  Between Christ and man or between a leader and his underlings?  I guess when one considers the entire sermon to be on community, then one has to extend the meaning to beyond just Christ.  But I don’t find that leadership element satisfactory, mainly because the unrealistic element in this parable is that no shepherd worth his salt would abandon the ninety-nine sheep to go find one stray.  Would a leader, say a leader of soldiers, risk the bulk of his troops for one stray soldier?  I don’t think so.  This parable only makes sense to me when it’s God searching for a lost soul.

The process of rebuking a sinner is rather straightforward.  I’ve never seen it in practice.  Has anyone? 

There’s a verse in there I never really noticed before, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (18).  Those are the same words He says to Peter in chapter 16.  Here He is addressing all the apostles, and so they too have the authority to bind (i.e. forbid) and loose (i.e. allow).  The difference is that Peter is the rock on which the church is built and Peter is given the keys; that is primacy.

And then finally the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant is really quite powerful.  It’s one of my favorite of the parables.  The preface to the parable starts with Peter asking Christ how many times a person should forgive another.  Seven times, Peter generously assumes.  Christ says seventy times seven, which is an overwhelming number.  In the parable we have one servant who is forgiven a debt of ten thousand talents, while the other owes the previous servant a hundred denarii.  From what I gathered, a hundred denarii was about three or four month’s wages while one talent was about 20 years wages.  So the one with ten thousand talents is like a billionaire and the one with hundred denarii is like a manual laborer living day to day.  One can see the disparity there but just like seventy times seven overwhelms Peter’s seven, the ten thousand overwhelms the hundred denarii.  There is a sort of symmetry in the numbers.

Now here’s the strange element that ends the Unforgiving Servant Parable.  That unforgiving servant at the end is sent off to be tortured.  Christ then ends with, so will God do to you if you don’t have mercy.  So is God sending souls off to be tortured or is that another exaggeration to make a point? As I said, I can’t always tell when to consider Christ exaggerating and when not.

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The fifth and final discourse—the discourse on the end of times—is delineated in chapters 24 and 25.  Here’s how I see the structure of this discourse. 

1. Prediction of the destruction of the temple & collapse of civil order.

2. The prediction of false prophets.

3. The coming of the Son of Man.

4. The eternal endurance of Christ’s words.

5. The mystery of the end of time.

6. The Parable of the Faithful Servant.

7. The Parable of the Ten Virgins.

8. The Parable of the Talents.

9. The Parable of the Sheep and Goats.

The first six parts comprise chapter 24, and chapter 25 is made up of the three great parables which are so memorable. 

Just like the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is sitting (24:3) as he delivers this sermon.  Again I don’t have that image of Him sitting as He delivers these sermons.  Could it also be that I associate this with a priest’s homily?

Here Jesus forewarns the apostles about their persecutions as He did in the Sermon on the Mount: “Then they will hand you over to persecution, and they will kill you. You will be hated by all nations because of my name” (24:9). 

The description of the end of times sounds like it’s pretty horrendous.  Does anyone know why?  I know that’s common for apocalyptic literature, but coming from Christ’s mouth makes it a true forecasting of the future.  If we’re working toward creating the kingdom of God, why does it all collapse into degeneration? 

And then with the coming of the Son of Man (return of Christ) He comes to gather “the elect.”  The note at the bottom of the NAB says that Matthew is describing the destruction of the temple in 66 AD.  This is where I have a problem with modern scholars.  If that is the case, then Christ is not predicting anything.  It already happened.  Now how could that be if “the Son of Man” did not come?  Even more important perhaps, is the prediction about the end of times or the destruction of the temple?  Is the destruction of the temple a metaphor for the end of times?  Why does Jesus speak about “this generation” living through all this when He appears to be speaking about the distant future?  I don’t have answers to any of this, but you can see it’s rather complicated.  Events are intertwined and conflated.  If you believe Matthew through Mark wrote the Gospels post temple destruction, then the meaning of this would be different than if Matthew or Mark wrote it prior. 

I love the line, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”  Christ as the Word is eternal, so eternal that it will outlast heaven itself.  That’s obviously an exaggeration given that heaven cannot pass away.

I never noticed it before, but Christ compares the end of times with the flood of Noah (24:37-39).  I also never noticed these lines either until now.

Two men will be out in the field; one will be taken, and one will be left.  Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken, and one will be left.  Therefore, stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come. (40-42)

People will be at work, men in the field and women at the mill, and some will be saved and some not.  The caution to stay awake foreshadows how the apostles fall asleep while Jesus is praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. 

The Parable of the Faithful and Unfaithful Servants is allegorical.  While the master is away, you better be a faithful servant or there will be consequences if you are not.  That unfaithful servant will be punished so that he will be gnashing his teeth.  Matthew seems to like that image of grinding or gnashing of teeth.  It comes up frequently and I don’t think the other evangelists use it. 

The Gospel of Matthew is for me an endearing gospel because of the Sermon on the Mount and the three great parables of chapter 25.  Is it possible to not love those three great parables?  I have a theory on the three parables.  It seems to me they follow the virtues of hope, faith, and charity. 

The wise virgins of the first parable keep oil in their lamps while the foolish virgins don’t.  The wise virgins are prepared, and so they have had hope immediate in their minds.  The foolish virgins aren’t necessarily hopeless, but they don’t keep prepared, so their hope is distant, not presently conscious.  Does that make sense?  Notice though all ten fall asleep, and so all ten actually fail Christ’s command to “stay awake.”  But the wise account for the impossibility of always staying awake.  They hope the bridegroom will come and so prepare for it.

The servants of the second parable provide examples of putting faith into action.  Notice all three have faith, but only the first two put their faith into action.  Point this out to the Protestants who claim it’s “faith alone.”  The first two go out and use the talents to multiply talents.  The kingdom is broadened by putting talents into action.  I may have said this earlier, a talent was roughly twenty years income, so even the third servant who only received one talent received a richly amount. The first two are lauded: “‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.’”  The third servant is called “wicked and slothful” and thrown into “the outer darkness” where he too will be “gnashing” his teeth.  Seems kind of harsh but remember a parable is not a reflection of reality but a glimpse into a truth.

The third parable clearly I think explicates charity.  This is the parable which convicts me every time, so much so that I actually feel anxiety when I read it. 

Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’  Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’  He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ (25:41-43)

Am I one of the sheep or am I one of the goats?  Or perhaps in between, and where does that leave me?  Certainly I give money to charity.  But is that what Christ really wants of us?  Or does He want a hands on application to the needy?  I think this parable is the most powerful of all the parables.

Notice too that the goats, who go off into eternal punishment, didn’t do anything overtly evil.  Their sins were sins of omission, what they failed to do, as we pray in the Confiteor at Mass.  Whenever I get into a debate with a Protestant over faith alone, this is what I cite, though one could cite a number of Jesus’ teachings.  It’s so clear here.  The goats failed to do a work of mercy.  It is not faith alone.  You have to put faith into action.  As St. Paul writes of the virtues in 1 Cor 13:13, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”