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Exploring the word

09 Feb 2014 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Legal promises are mostly made of paper. The party of the first part agrees to X and the party of the second part reciprocates with Y. It's all very clean and tidy. Everyone knows what's expected of them. The contract is binding until it expires or the terms are broken or the page is torn up. When people breech these kinds of promises, the consequences are also mostly composed of paper, this time, the monetary kind. The biblical people of Israel contracted a series of divine promises made of increasingly more binding materials: commandments written in stone and a kingdom that ran through a particular family's bloodline. Ultimately God's sealed a covenant with the nation as a whole. Circumcision marked the spot in flesh and blood. Wherever these people went, God would go with them—even into exile. This people-covenant was best expressed through the figure of Isaiah's faithful servant, who was summoned to act as a "light to the nations." The servant embodied the nation's calling to be the radiant light which would serve as a beacon to the whole world, drawing everyone into God's promises. People-covenants are harder to dispose of than the paper kind or even those chiseled in stone like the Decalogue. A covenant in flesh and blood is like the child in a faltering marriage whose reality and rootedness in a home beg to differ that the marriage-commitment never happened. Sacraments teach us how to understand sacred covenants: What God binds together cannot be dissolved by ripping up a page or writing a check. Baptism unites you with God through death and life to eternity. Eucharist makes you one with the life of Christ. Marriage and holy orders are both people-covenants which are lasting and true. None of these promises are small matters, which is why Christians take them very seriously. Saint Paul, schooled in Pharisaic arguments based on law, had counted heavily on covenants made of words. In his new life as an apostle of the gospel, he deliberately relinquished his dependence on smart-talk and put all his confidence in the sign of the cross. For him the cross was the greatest of all covenants made in flesh and blood. There is no way to shred or annul this promise. You can't buy it off with any substance the world values. God has staked God's claim on the world in the body and blood of God's Son. If you eat this bread and drink this cup, you renew the bond that Christ-life has on you. The church is a people-covenant to which the nations look for divine light. Scripture links The glory of the Lord: Gen. 15:17; Exod. 3:1-15; 13:21; Ps. 78:14; Ezek. 43:2; Acts 2:3 God is the giver of light: Gen. 1:3-5; Ps. 13:4; Prov. 29:13; Isa. 45:7 Jesus is the light: John 1:9; 3:19-21; 8:12; 9:5; 12:35, 46 We are the light: Luke 16:8b; John 12:36; Eph. 5:8; 1 Thess. 5:5 Other divine associations with light: 1 Tim. 6:16; 1 John 1:5-7 Catechism links People of God as salt of the earth and light of the world: 782 Works of mercy: 2246-2247

Authors Alice Camille

Covenants

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Homily themes

19 Feb 2012 - Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Remember not the events of the past. It's impossible to deny that the earliest Christian witnesses saw Christ as the fulfillment of prophecy--the one whose coming Hebrew scripture had "predicted" long before--nor that the church has continued this tradition. And certainly Jesus must be seen in continuity with Israelite history. In creating a new people out the followers of Christ, though, God did not "un-people" the Jews. God does not undo promises. As Saint Paul once wrote, "They are Israelites; theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and," he added, "from them, according to the flesh, is the Messiah" (Romans 9:4-5)--a Messiah for Christians but not for Jews. One of those Israelites, Isaiah, took a somewhat different view of earlier events, in particular the key experience for his people, the Exodus. What God did before--lead the Israelite people out of Egypt--God was doing again: releasing them from exile in Babylon. It was not a repeat performance of the Exodus; it was like that past event, but it was also "something new"! God is cleaning the slate, forgetting the sins of the people. It's the same with Christ. While he may have been "fulfilling" scripture, a very new view of God was emerging as well, one that went far beyond "the things of long ago."

Authors Joel Schorn

Prophecy Messiah hebrew scripture covenant Covenants

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Exploring the word

14 Jun 2009 - Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle B

Thirty years ago I spent some time volunteering at Covenant House, a child welfare organization in New York. As you can imagine, the concept of the covenant was a big thing there. “One thing you gotta know about covenants,” our spiritual director used to say. “They’re bloody. They cost something.” We get the picture in the Exodus reading about the ratification of the covenant at the base of Mount Sinai. First comes the slaughter of bulls. Then half the blood is splashed upon the stone altar. Finally, the remaining blood is sprinkled on the people. The scene is the stuff of horror films. This is what it means to enter into an agreement with God? Yes. The blood is crucial to the contract. “The blood is the life,” as scripture tells us (Deuteronomy 12:23). When the stakes are high, it’s life that’s wagered on the line. The altar is splashed in blood to signify God’s participation in the treaty. The people are also sprinkled to symbolize their willingness to take the terms of the covenant dead seriously. It’s the sort of scene that imprints itself upon the mind. You and your children won’t forget the day the nation was covered in the blood of the covenant and life itself was the cost of the bargain. The later Christian writer of the Letter to the Hebrews has no quarrel with the efficaciousness of the Sinai covenant. The blood of animals did sanctify those who were defiled by sin and symbolized their repentance before God. It also grimly represented the price the Israelites were willing to pay to become God’s holy people. But there’s something more solemn and wonderful still, this writer urges us to consider. In the mediation of the new and everlasting covenant, Christ the high priest sanctifies us with his own blood. When this blood moves from the altar to the community, the price of this agreement has already been paid in full. What should we do in the light of this revelation? “Take it,” Jesus suggests at the Last Supper. Take it—because it’s the best offer you’re going to get in this world. Take it, because it’s available and it’s free—though hardly cheap. Take it, because you and I have already followed the man with the water jar in the sign of our baptism and have been led to this table, where the Passover celebration is already prepared. Take it because the blood is the life, and if we are to pass over from death to life in Christ, our participation in this meal is the sign we are prepared to do so. Related scripture links Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh: Gen. 2:23-24 Covenants with individuals: Gen. 9:9-17; 15:1-21; Exod. 19:1-8; 2 Sam. 7:8-16 Covenants through the prophets: Jer. 31:31-34; Ezek. 34:23-31; Isa. 7:10-15 Catechism links Eucharist: CCC 737; 790; 1000; 1088; 1099; 1113-1121; 1210-1211; 1322-1405

Authors Alice Camille

Covenants Blood

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Homily stories

14 Jun 2009 - Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle B

As a lover of words, I was fascinated to learn that the root of the word liturgy comes from Latin for “work of the people.” What an amazing insight that brings to the central ritual of Christianity. Breaking bread with fellow Christians, remembering Christ, and sharing in his body and blood are actions that early Christians actually considered their work. And what is work? Work has its roots in the Greek word for “activity.” Thus the liturgy is the activity of the people—that means you and I. It is something we are charged to do. We must take, eat, and remember Christ’s life. This is each Christian’s responsibility. It is our job to remember Christ in the activity of sharing a meal in his name, and it is our job to remember that we have a covenant with God that we will be God’s people and do God’s work, which as Jesus tells us today is to take and eat his body and blood and become one with Christ. As Christians there’s no getting out of this work, but those who’ve been at it for a while say the benefits are worth it.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

breaking bread work Covenants

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The inner word

12 Feb 2017 - Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

It’s simple: Make a promise and keep it. But life happens; vows are broken, truthfulness is blurred. Jesus reminds you that he accepts your humanity and gives you God’s perspective: What you can’t see, what you can’t hear, and what only your heart can know. God is there. When are you humbled by God’s covenant of love? Be assured: God doesn’t break promises.

promises Covenants

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Homily stories

10 Sep 2017 - Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

It was more than two or three gathered in his name—seven to be precise—but it was the smallest gathering for Mass that I had ever attended, in the smallest chapel I’d ever seen, and I was struck by how intimate it was, how much it felt like a real meal, how strong Jesus’ presence in our midst seemed. After all, the priest assured us, “God keeps his promises.” An appropriate theme for his homily, given that we could see the very Promised Land from the point where the chapel stood, atop Mount Nebo in Jordan—where Moses died, and the last recorded hiding place of the Ark of the Covenant. Our presider was Father Fergus Clarke, formerly the guardian of Jerusalem’s Church of the Holy Sepulcher (the site of Jesus’ Crucifixion, burial, and Resurrection). This Ireland-born Franciscan now resides on Mount Nebo, along with two other friars. As part of the Franciscans' traditional ministry of caring for Christian sites in the Holy Land, they maintain the Memorial of Moses. “By our very presence here, we proclaim that Jesus lives,” Clarke said. Promises work both ways; covenants are mutual agreements; contracts bind both parties. Jesus says he’ll show up—as long as we do, too.

Authors Jennifer Tomshack

promises Covenants contracts

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Exploring the word

03 Jun 2018 - Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle B

No sound is so sweet to our ears as those three powerful words: “I love you.” But as extraordinary and meaningful as those words are, if words are all we get, they can become pretty thin. Every human exchange has to have more than words behind it. If we want to buy something, there has to be cash or valuables to back up the transaction. If we want to engage an organization, there’s got to be paperwork. If we want to clinch the deal, we’ve got to sign a contract. If we really love someone, we have to produce a ring or a home or a hug or an hour of our time. Words can be beautiful, but experience teaches us that words are not enough. If we don’t see the signs that show us the words are for real, then they are no better than lies. That’s how rituals came into being, because of the human need for signs and testimony. We can say, “I love you”—but are we willing to say it before the priest? We can call ourselves Catholic—but do we join the assembly when it gathers? We might declare that we saw something at the scene of the crime—but will we tell it to the judge? Ritual is the difference between a private word and a public one, between talking and testifying. When we profess our commitments here, in the presence of the faithful, they become more than words. They become signs of our covenant. The story of the covenant Covenants, in Hebrew and Christian scripture at least, are pretty simple. They’re personal. They’re unequal. And they are bloody. But apart from those factors, they take many forms. When Adam declares Eve bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, the traditional three elements were clear: the intimate, the physical, even the “unequal” part, which is preserved in many cultures and fundamentalist interpretations of the partnership between men and women. Most early covenants were between kings and their subjects. Most biblical covenants were between God and a person in leadership (like Abraham, Moses, David) or the nation as a whole (conducted through God’s prophet). In all of these sacred contracts, there was much to be gained for the weaker party if the promise was upheld, things like protection, God’s favor, and the good life. The strong one also gained: in taxes, power, or, in the case of God, the delight of walking with the beloved people in close companionship. But the breaking of the covenant could lead to bloodshed: The subject could lose his or her life. So, obviously, could the king. But how could God possibly suffer if we broke faith with the divine covenant? Can God’s feelings be hurt? Can God lose anything in glory or dignity or sovereignty? Certainly, when we are unfaithful, God can “smite” us. The Bible has lots of stories of “smiting,” and the Christian teaching on judgment reminds us that there are definite consequences to turning away from God’s love. Perhaps a more accurate way of understanding this is to recognize that, in turning from the source of life and love, we “smite” ourselves. The covenant, new and revised But until the revelation of Jesus, it was hard to imagine that God had anything to lose by entering into covenant with us. God had no flesh to write into the bargain. God had only the divine word to give. When the divine word became flesh, however, the story took a radically different turn. Suddenly, the covenant with creation became deeply personal for God. And yes, there was blood in it. The truth is, God always had a very personal connection to creation, the kind of love that desires and aches and celebrates and mourns along with the beloved. But, like a lover who is disregarded or whose attempts at love are regularly rejected, God found the pull of sin in our sphere to be too overwhelming for us. God’s love for us was veiled like the sun behind a cloud, and soon we stopped believing in it. So God chose to become as visible to us as we are to ourselves. Applying the Word God testifies to love Saint John Vianney, the Curé of Ars, once came upon a workingman sitting before the tabernacle. The poor man certainly had other places to be and other pressing matters to attend to, so naturally the priest was curious as to why he lingered in church so long. “What are you doing?” Father John asked at last. The man simply glanced back to the tabernacle and said, “I look at Him. He looks at me.” When Jesus became one of us, humanity had the chance to look God in the eye and to see God looking back at us. When we contemplate the image of Jesus on the cross, in the Sacred Heart, or many other wonderful artistic portrayals, we are assisted in making that same connection. But Jesus left a more eloquent and vital testimony of his love behind for us. When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we take part in a covenant of God’s love for us that speaks its commitment again and again. Through this great covenant, we encounter God in ritual, but the encounter doesn’t end here. We incorporate—take into our own bodies—God’s life and love and become that Body and Blood for others. We also learn to see that God looks back at us everywhere we go, in the beauty of nature, in the love of those around us, and through the eyes of the poor. God looks at us: Do we look back? Related scripture links Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh: Gen. 2:23-24 Covenants with individuals: Gen. 9:9-17; 15:1-21; Exod. 19:1-8; 2 Sam. 7:8-16 Covenants through the prophets: Jer. 31:31-34; Ezek. 34:23-31; Isa. 7:10-15 Catechism links Eucharist: CCC 737; 790; 1000; 1088; 1099; 1113-1121; 1210-1211; 1322-1405

Authors Alice Camille

Signs Rituals Covenants

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Featured Exploring the word

02 Jun 2024 - Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Cycle B

Thirty years ago I spent some time volunteering at Covenant House, a child welfare organization in New York. As you can imagine, the concept of the covenant was a big thing there. “One thing you gotta know about covenants,” our spiritual director used to say. “They’re bloody. They cost something.” We get the picture in the Exodus reading about the ratification of the covenant at the base of Mount Sinai. First comes the slaughter of bulls. Then half the blood is splashed upon the stone altar. Finally, the remaining blood is sprinkled on the people. The scene is the stuff of horror films. This is what it means to enter into an agreement with God? Yes. The blood is crucial to the contract. “The blood is the life,” as scripture tells us (Deuteronomy 12:23). When the stakes are high, it’s life that’s wagered on the line. The altar is splashed in blood to signify God’s participation in the treaty. The people are also sprinkled to symbolize their willingness to take the terms of the covenant dead seriously. It’s the sort of scene that imprints itself upon the mind. You and your children won’t forget the day the nation was covered in the blood of the covenant and life itself was the cost of the bargain. The later Christian writer of the Letter to the Hebrews has no quarrel with the efficaciousness of the Sinai covenant. The blood of animals did sanctify those who were defiled by sin and symbolized their repentance before God. It also grimly represented the price the Israelites were willing to pay to become God’s holy people. But there’s something more solemn and wonderful still, this writer urges us to consider. In the mediation of the new and everlasting covenant, Christ the high priest sanctifies us with his own blood. When this blood moves from the altar to the community, the price of this agreement has already been paid in full. What should we do in the light of this revelation? “Take it,” Jesus suggests at the Last Supper. Take it—because it’s the best offer you’re going to get in this world. Take it, because it’s available and it’s free—though hardly cheap. Take it, because you and I have already followed the man with the water jar in the sign of our Baptism and have been led to this table, where the Passover celebration is already prepared. Take it because the blood is the life, and if we are to pass over from death to life in Christ, our participation in this meal is the sign we are prepared to do so. Related scripture links Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh: Gen. 2:23-24 Covenants with individuals: Gen. 9:9-17; 15:1-21; Exod. 19:1-8; 2 Sam. 7:8-16 Covenants through the prophets: Jer. 31:31-34; Ezek. 34:23-31; Isa. 7:10-15 Catechism links Eucharist: CCC 737; 790; 1000; 1088; 1099; 1113-1121; 1210-1211; 1322-1405 Adapted from a previously published Exploring the word.

Authors Alice Camille

Covenants agreement with god Blood

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