The story of the Bible is one of increasing inclusion.
Living the Word
Living the Word is a monthly reflection on the Sunday readings from the Revised Common Lectionary.
Paula Gooder 1-01-2005
Have you ever sat and watched a moth drawn into a light bulb? The moth simply cannot help but be drawn to the bulb’s brilliance. The season of Epiphany celebrates a theme a little like this - only we are the moths and the bulb is God’s glory. Throughout Epiphany we encounter again and again the inexorable attraction of God. Whenever God’s glory is revealed in the world, people, from the greatest to the least, are drawn to its brightness. Whether they are the kings and nations of Isaiah 60:1-6, the Magi of Matthew 2:1-12, the people to whom John the Baptist speaks in John 1:29-42, or the disciples of Matthew 5:1-12, all are drawn to the glory of God.
This pull is strongest when God’s glory is most apparent, so the Magi and the first disciples cannot resist being drawn into worship and obedience. Throughout history the people of God have struggled to reveal God’s glory to the world. We seem to be much better at concealing it - by keeping it to ourselves, squabbling about it, and sometimes even ignoring it entirely. The season of Epiphany not only challenges us afresh to feel the pull of God on our own lives but to seek constantly for ways in which we can reveal God to the world. Just think about what the world could look like if we succeed!
Michaela Bruzzese 8-01-2004
Six months after Ash Wednesday, we are gifted with another month of reminders of its most basic and important lessons. Once again we have an opportunity to recognize our false idols - especially the most persistent: wealth, power, and ego - and to turn back to God, the source of true power and a
Michaela Bruzzese 7-01-2004
"In my chest full of flowers, Flowering wholly and only for Him, There He remained sleeping; I cared for Him there, And the fan of the high cedars cooled Him." In Dark Night of the Soul, St. John of the Cross recalls the tenderness with which he cared for God. Clearly, he knew not only how to welcome God, but how to treat God as beloved. His experience is echoed this month in the numerous ways the faithful have welcomed and cared for the Holy One: Abraham welcomes God as guest and dialogue partner; the disciple Mary welcomes God as teacher, and Jesus teaches us to welcome God first as an enemy in need, and then as "Abba," our beloved dad. This Abba is not a remote, distant father but a devoted parent who cares for us with a mother's tenderness: "As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you...your heart shall rejoice; your bodies shall flourish like the grass" (Isaiah 66:13-14).
In a world filled with overwhelming suffering and persistent injustice, the work of discipleship can easily become life-draining instead of life-giving. Discipleship can become a burden that prevents us from recognizing the most important thing: the presence of God with us, and loving this Abba as we are first loved - with all our hearts and souls. When we, like St. John, not only welcome but cherish God's presence, whether in the stranger, enemy, or friend, we are comforted so that our hearts shall rejoice, and our work of discipleship shall flourish.
Michaela Bruzzese 5-01-2004
The history of the struggles of the oppressed is the history of the call of the Holy Spirit to a divided world, writes Mexican theologian Maria Pilar Aquino in Our Cry for Life. For
Michaela Bruzzese 4-01-2004
"Only in our doing can we grasp you, only with our hands can we illumine you....
Michaela Bruzzese 1-01-2004
Matthew, Luke, and John tell us the story of Jesus in their own words, firmly linking him to the Hebrew Testament through scripture and events. The accounts confirm Jesus’ heritage as the true king, the one who will "judge your people with righteousness and your poor with justice" (Psalm 72:2). For Matthew, Jesus is a liberator in the line of Moses (Matthew 2:1-12). Luke assures us that Jesus is the Messiah, the one who is so passionately awaited in Jewish scriptures (Luke 4:18). John insists that Jesus is both flesh and sign; he is the one who transforms ordinary substances into sacrament, so that we may know and taste God’s presence in the world (John 2:11).
They remind us that Jesus is no ordinary king, for his primary concern is for those who, in the world’s eyes, have nothing and are nothing. They are "the oppressed," "the poor," "the needy," "the blind, "the captives," "the weak," and "those who have no helper." Jesus is king of the downtrodden, and he calls us, as his living body, to be the same.
It is Paul who insists that as Christians we be a body—individuals who are equal, treated with mutual respect, and united (1 Corinthians 12:13). Living as one body does not come without difficulties, but Paul reminds us that we bear the Spirit for one purpose only, "the common good" (1 Corinthians 12:7). If we are to follow this Messiah king, the common good, especially of those left behind, is our only goal.
Michaela Bruzzese 11-01-2003
Rabbi Tarfon said, "The day is short. The work is long. We are not enjoined to complete the task.
Michaela Bruzzese 9-01-2003
"We must re-vision Christian faith as a combative, argumentative, and emancipatory" practice that seeks "the well-being of all."
Michaela Bruzzese 7-01-2003
"That's when I want you—you knower of my emptiness, you unspeaking partner to my sorrow. That's when I need you, God, like food," wrote Rainer Maria Rilke in his Book of Hours.
Michaela Bruzzese 5-01-2003
Despite Jesus' greeting to the disciples, the weeks following his resurrection are anything but peaceful for the struggling community.
Kari Jo Verhulst 7-01-2002
Those of us who identify ourselves as activists of various stripes often use our work as a shield against our deepest fears and loneliness. Leery of those who peddle spirituality as self-help and who ignore the "root causes" of injustice and suffering, we can be fearful of admitting our own fatigue and dismay.
Within this tendency lies an interesting idolatry—one that is harder to identify than wealth, security, or even doctrinal purity. More often than not, we understand the gifts we have been given—the prophetic word, the cry of challenge to unjust systems—as something deposited in us, rather than something that flows through us. Thus we interpret our lives according to our faithfulness to this gift, rather than according to our relationship with the God who is the source of our gifts and callings. This severance casts our efforts in a strangely harsh light: It either causes us to interpret ourselves as being of singular importance, which renders us easily threatened, or it increases our already deep sense that we are always failing, no matter how hard we try. In either case, cut off from our life-source, the seed we sow in the world will be born of this fatigued arrogance, and we become just one more force out there imposing its vision on the world.
Listen to me, you that pursue righteousness, you that seek the Lord. Look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug (Isaiah 51:1).
Kari Jo Verhulst 5-01-2002
These weeks from Easter to Pentecost memorialize the calling forth and sending out of Jesus' witnesses.
Kari Jo Verhulst 3-01-2002
Years ago when my mother was quite ill, a friend copied a poem and surreptitiously slipped it into my Bible.