Tags
a voice crying in the desert, David Haas, Elizabeth, Jesus, John the Baptist, Mary, the chosen one, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
As the Church celebrates the birth of St. John the Baptist, I start thinking about the relationship of John to his cousin, Jesus. I find it hard to talk much about it as there are few mentions in the Scriptures but this morning I decided to use what I have read about them together and go from there.
It doesn’t seem that they were close in childhood, unless Elizabeth and Mary wrote a lot of letters describing their “boys” to one another and sharing them with the kids. It’s so much easier for us in the age of technology. We can watch children grow up in pictures and videos and as soon as they can write, they can enjoy a relationship – if they have the tools. I wonder what the mothers of these two shared, if anything. And what, as they grew, were the stories about them in their neighborhoods?
John certainly knew his place in adulthood. “A voice crying in the desert” is how he described his role and he never seemed to mind that Jesus was “the chosen one” and he the “sidekick,” the associate, the one to do the bidding of God in Jesus. He went to prison because of Jesus. He was beheaded for loving him. It doesn’t seem that they had much time together but when they met it seemed like they knew each other immediately on a deep level. And I’m so glad to know that John had the privilege of baptizing Jesus. What an honor and a humbling event, for sure!
All that makes me think of a David Haas song that speaks of the relationship we might have with Jesus. It’s the words and the music of the refrain that cause a stirring in my heart. And when I think of John the Baptist I can imagine that if he never even met Jesus (although how wonderful for both of them that he did!) he would have sung this refrain.
Without seeing you, we love you. Without touching you, we embrace. Without knowing you, we follow. Without seeing you, we believe.
Just a question on this commemoration of the birth of John the Baptist: How am I announcing the good news of God’s on-going presence in our world especially when it seems so dark and devoid of hope? 
Today takes it’s cue somewhat from yesterday’s entry. In the book of Jesuit prayers entitled Hearts on Fire, there is a prayer written by Pedro Arrupe, who was the beloved Superior General (world leader) of the Society of Jesus for 18 years (1965-1983) -a long term of office for anyone! His prayer gives a clue of how to bring the Scriptures alive in our daily journey, helping us to take our cue from Christ’s interaction with all sorts of people as he opened himself to all who crossed his path.
There is a line from Matthew’s gospel in the story called variously “the loaves and the fishes” or “the feeding of the five thousand” (CH 14) that always goes straight to my heart. It appears today and catches me as usual. It is late in a day that began with Jesus trying to escape the crowds to grieve the death of John the Baptist. Failing that, Jesus responds to the needs in what has turned into a long and likely tiring session of healing people. The narrative picks up with the apostles saying to Jesus that he ought to send the people away because it’s late and there’s no availability of food to buy in the deserted place where they are. They will need to go to one of the villages nearby to buy food. There is no need for them to go away, Jesus says. Give them something to eat yourselves. The gospel continues with the miracle of feeding the whole crowd on five loaves and two small fish.
We all have our own perspectives on things and sometimes there is not only difference in how we see things, but downright opposition to the views of others. I’m always reminded of this when the “Who do people say that I am?” question shows up in the Scriptures. (Today in MK 8.) That’s the easy question though because the answer can include lots of hearsay, e.g. “Elijah or one of the prophets” (reincarnated?) or John the Baptist (more tricky since they lived at the same time). The riskier question comes next when Jesus asks the question that calls for a response of personal conviction: “Who do you say I am?” No one rushes to that answer and Peter seems the only one to finally get up the courage to speak his mind, or more probably, what he knows in his heart: “You are the Christ.”
The theme of everything I have read so far this morning is simply the word POWER. The gospel for today speaks of God’s power manifest in the baptism of Jesus in two ways that I can see. God speaking when Jesus emerges from the water is impressive: “This is my beloved Son; listen to him!” I am struck by both the soft expression of paternal pride and the booming imperative of what follows that sounds like it carries great consequence. (This is, of course, only my personal take on that moment.) Prior to God’s role at the event, however, Jesus shows a different side of power: the humility that is the necessary companion to any recognition or manifestation of personal power. John doesn’t feel worthy of baptizing Jesus, but Jesus knows the necessity of affirming John’s call and ministry as well acting out his own place in the human family.
The first thing I saw as my computer came on line this morning was the headline about the result of Great Britain’s vote to leave the European Union. That showed up on the same screen with a headline quote of Bernie Sanders for people in the US to “beat the establishment.” It seems that the way of doing things not only in our country, where the expectation that Sanders would have graciously bowed out by now, and in Europe, where the economic ramifications will be epic, are changing incontrovertibly with consequences that cannot possibly be predicted in the present. Add to that the “sit-in” in our House of Representatives this week and we cannot possibly ignore the tumult that is upon us and growing in the world.