Sunday 27 October 2019

30th Sunday; Year C, 2019

 May we in today's Eucharistic celebration be ever ready to acknowledge our sins before God, and through this, may he grant us his mercy and pardon. Happy Sunday!

DOCTRINE AND FAITH
(Sirach 35,12-14.16-18; 2 Timothy 4,6-8.16-18; Luke 18,9-14: 30th Sunday; Year C, 2019)

            The reading from the Book of Sirach, 35,12-14.16-18, is a discourse on both the impartiality of God and the prayer of those in need. Although, these are very different themes; in this reading one flows from the other. Sirach states that the justice of God is an established fact. In this, he stands within a long tradition in Israel that professes this belief (cf. Deut 32,4; Ps 145,17; Isa 45,24; Jer 23,6; etc.). He also states that God knows no favourites, neither the privileged nor the dispossessed. By stating this, he is indirectly showing that if there is any partiality, it is ours and not God's. He insists that God is concerned with justice, not favouritism; when God takes the side of the poor, it is for the sake of justice, not poverty. According to covenant theology, we are all responsible for one another. The well-offs are obliged to address the needs of those who suffer misfortune. This is a matter of justice, not charity. Sirach contends that God hears the cry of the oppressed - those who are the victims of wrongdoing. The oppressed cry out, the orphan wails, the widow complains, and God yields to their requests. These are all people for whom there seems to be little redress. It is almost as if God is bound to respond positively to them. As a covenant partner, God is accountable to them, especially when other covenant partners disregard their own responsibilities. Sirach assures these forlorn people that their entreaties will not go unheeded. Like the persistent widow in last Sunday's gospel reading, they will not cease praying until they accomplish their goal, until justice is reestablished.
            The Epistle reading for this Sunday, 2 Timothy 4,6-8.16-18, reveals that Paul is aware that his days are numbered, that his death is imminent. He does not resent it, nor does he run toward it eagerly. He faces it with the calm resignation that springs from deep faith. He uses moving imagery to characterise his death: he sees his life as a libation, as if his life is being poured out; secondly he views his death as a departure, a kind of leave-taking associated with sailors weighing anchor or soldiers breaking camp. Like them, Paul has completed a demanding tour of service and is now preparing to return home; finally, he uses imagery derived from athletic competition to evaluate the course of his ministerial commitment. He has competed well; he has finished the race. To this he adds that he has kept the faith, an idiomatic expression that means remaining loyal to one's oath. He has done what he could. Now he has only to wait for the conferral of the crown promised by God. The reference is to Christ's eschatological manifestation. Throughout this discourse, he extols the marvellous deeds God has done on his behalf. Paul is also confident that just as God had previously rescued him from peril, so God would rescue him again.
            The story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Luke 18,9-14, well known to us is an example of divine reversal that surprises the hearers and obliges them to examine anew the values and standards by which they live. In it, two men are contrasted not only by their exterior behaviour but by the way each understands and describes himself. The judgment that is passed is based on self-assessment, not on the evaluation of another. The Pharisee in this story is a model of pharisaic observance. Everything about his demeanour bespeaks propriety. He stands, according to the customary posture for prayer, and his conduct has been exemplary. He is innocent of greed, dishonesty and adultery. His practices of piety exceed the requirements of the law. He fasts twice a week, when fasting is only mandated for the Day of Atonement; he tithes on all of his possessions, not merely on his earnings, as the law states. It would appear the man is beyond reproach. His description of himself is probably accurate, and his negative estimation of the tax collector may be accurate as well. The tax collector in this narrative does not deny his involvement in offensive practices. In fact, his prayer for mercy seems to be an admission of his guilt. His demeanour is radically different from that of the Pharisee. He stands at a distance, suggesting that the other man either stood in the front or in the midst of those in the Temple. He does not raise his eyes to heaven, suggesting that the Pharisee did. He beats his breast while the Pharisee's arms were conspicuously raised high. His repentant manner marks him as a sinner. There is no question about which of these men has lived a righteous life and which has not. The men have described themselves correctly. However, Jesus' evaluation turns the story upside down. The Pharisee's self-estimation is really a self-eulogy. While he may be living an upright life, he takes credit for his virtue, and he claims superiority over others who may not be as compliant as he is. The tax collector, on the other hand, acknowledges that justification comes from God. The tax collector prayed that his sins be expiated, and his prayer was answered. The Pharisee asked for nothing and received nothing. The saying at the end is the final judgment. The men's lives may have been the reverse of each other, but the judgment of Jesus exposes the real reversal.


Today’s readings challenge us to reflect on the attitudes one brings to prayer. They illustrate basically two opposing attitudes: self-righteousness and humility. It is very easy for religious people to fall into a kind of self-righteousness: 
Thank God I am better than others. Their very enthusiasm and generosity can plant the seeds of religious arrogance. They discover what commitment demands of them, experience relative success in their endeavours to be faithful, distance themselves from what they think might threaten their resolve and then pass judgment on those who do not share their values or experience their success. The growth of this kind of arrogance is often imperceptible, because there is enough truth in every step along the way that it is difficult to recognise when one is veering off the track. The fact is that some religious people are better than the rest of us. The arrogant Pharisee clearly believed he was better because of what he had done. He had been observant and was proud of it. The tax collector, on the other hand, was ashamed of what he had done. More to the point, he knew what God was able to do in the face of his sinfulness, and so he asked for mercy. Justification comes from God; it is not an equitable return for a job well done. The tax collector knew this; the Pharisee did not. The tax collector asked God for mercy, and he was granted his request. The Pharisee asked for nothing of God, and so he received nothing. There are various ways in which we show we are self-righteous, but basically they all show we have forgotten that God is God and we are not. This is the attitude Jesus condemns. It presumes we are righteous through our own power, when it might be the case that we have not been thrown into a state of affairs that sorely tests the mettle of our virtue. It is one thing to be non-violent when the circumstances of life are relatively tranquil, and quite another when one is immersed in brutal situations. When the circumstances of life support our efforts to be observant, we can easily assume a superior attitude toward those whose weaknesses are only too apparent. They may show failings in areas where we are resolute, but our disdain for them is a clear sign of both our ignorance of our own human frailty and our lack of human compassion for the frailty of others. Unfortunately, this attitude of arrogance can be brought to prayer by the pharisee in all of us. Jesus extols the humility of the one who admits being a sinner and can accept the implications of that admission: Be merciful to me, a sinner. The tax collector neither denied his culpability nor tried to excuse it. He straightforwardly acknowledged his sin and stood humbly and openly before the holy God to whom he was accountable. There is an unpretentious honesty in his manner. He knows who and what he is, and who and what God is. He asks for mercy, knowing he does not deserve it but also knowing there is every reason to believe the compassionate God will grant his request. His prayer demonstrates contrition, humility, and confidence. 
Unlike the Pharisee, who looks only to himself, the tax collector, though he does not even raise his eyes to heaven, looks only to God. This is the attitude Jesus commends. This is the kind of prayer described in both the reading from Sirach and the Responsorial Psalm. It is those who can admit they are needy who turn to God in that need, and it is equally those who trust that God will be their strength in the face of their weaknesses who are strengthened. The lowly, the poor, the oppressed, and the brokenhearted are not closer to God because they are lowly, poor, oppressed, or brokenhearted but because in their dire straits they turn to God rather than to themselves. God is merciful, and they experience this mercy when they pray for it; God is the source of their strength, and they are strong when they turn to God for strength. Paul's own prayer demonstrates the attitudes that should be ours as we pray. Like the Pharisee, he acknowledges his success. He has competed well; he has finished the course; he has kept the faith. Unlike the Pharisee, he acknowledges that God is the source of any good he has been able to accomplish. The Lord stood by him and gave him strength. If there is any glory, it belongs to God. Paul's confident prayer springs from a humble heart. Therefore, may the good Lord in today’s Eucharistic celebration, grant us the humility to acknowledge our sins and the confidence to turn to God for mercy. +John I. Okoye
(pictures br Chukwubike)

Saturday 19 October 2019

29th Sunday, Year C, 2019

 May God grant us the grace to persevere in prayer and through that strengthen our relationship and intimacy with him.
Happy Sunday!


DOCTRINE AND FAITH
(Exodus 17,8-13; 2 Timothy 3,14-4,2; Luke 18,1-8: 29th Sunday, Year C, 2019)
The account of the battle of the Israelites with Amalek demonstrates, conclusively, the favoured status of the people of Israel. The Bible records a long history of enmity between these two nations. It is clear the Israelites were no match for the Amalekites, for the only thing that prevented their defeat was Moses’ intervention. When Moses' hands were held up, the Israelites prevailed; when Moses let them down, the Amalekites advanced. The support Moses got from Aaron and Hur is probably symbolic.
In the second reading, 2 Timothy 3, 14-4,2, as he continues to instruct Timothy, Paul expounds on the excellence of the sacred Scriptures (holy writings) and their usefulness in the lives of Christians (3,14-17). The holy writings, to which Paul refers, are what we today call the Old Testament. The praise he directs to the Scriptures is directed to this tradition. Timothy is reminded of those teachers from whom he learned the message of the Scriptures. In his infancy and youth it would have been his mother, Eunice, and his grandmother, Lois (cf. 2 Tim 1,5). More recently, it would have been Paul himself. Loyalty to his teachers is given as one reason for his faithfulness to the teaching of the Scriptures. The witness of the writings is further cause for fidelity, for it is within this tradition that the wisdom for salvation is found. Paul does not mean that salvation is found in the Scriptures themselves. Rather, they prepare for and point to the one who brings salvation, Christ Jesus. Training in the Scriptures, interpreted through faith in Christ, can help believers fulfill their religious duties. Having expounded on the glories of the sacred Scriptures, Paul solemnly charges Timothy to remain faithful to his ministerial responsibilities. Until the day when the sovereign Christ comes to bring his reign to fulfillment, Timothy is charged to proclaim the word, be resolute at all times, correct those in error, rebuke those who have gone astray and encourage all. He has the power of Christ Jesus to accomplish this, so he should not be fainthearted.
On the 25th Sunday of Ordinary Time, we read the story of the unjust steward. In today's gospel, Luke 18,1-8, Jesus tells the parable of the unjust (adikia) judge. He draws sharp lines of contrast between this man and a widow who comes to him for justice. The earlier story compared the practical wisdom of the unjust steward with that of the children of light and found the latter lacking. Here, it is the vindication of God that is compared to the judge's execution of justice. The point of the parable is the need for persistence in prayer. The judge is described as fearing neither God nor human being. The fear of God is the quintessential characteristic of the pious person. By his own admission the judge is devoid of such devotion. He was unjust not because he was an active adversary against another but because he failed to ensure that justice was served in the lives of all. This is extraordinarily a serious charge against a judge, whose very function is to secure justice for all, especially the most vulnerable of society. Sins of omission can be as devastating as sins of commission. The woman, on the other hand, is a widow, a member of one of the most oppressed classes in Israel. Though vulnerable, this woman is bold. She is already the victim of injustice, but she appears here before the judge, pressing him for a hearing. As indifferent as the judge seems to be toward her case, so is she persistent in her demands from him. He will not give in; she will not give up. We are not told how long this standoff continued, but it was long enough to wear down the judge. He finally relents, and he states that he will render her justice before she gives him a black eye. At this point in his instruction, Jesus introduces an apriori argument: If the judge who is unjust will finally vindicate those who have been mistreated, how much more will God vindicate those who are the chosen ones, who pray continually, crying out to God day and night? The persistence of the woman becomes the model of resoluteness for God's chosen ones. Like the woman in the parable, they cannot be certain regarding when God will respond, so they must persist. Jesus' disciples are admonished to persevere in prayer day and night, regardless of how close God might seem to be to their pleas. This parable shows them that in God's case, it is not a question of disinterest but of timing. God will answer in His time. This eschatological note leads into the final saying. Using the title with which he generally identifies himself and the character of his messiahship, Jesus implies that he is the one who will ultimately come to execute justice. The question he poses is sobering: Will he find faith on the earth? Following the parable as it does, this could mean: Will there be those who persevere in prayer? He leaves the question unanswered so the disciples can ponder on it.
The theme of faith we have been considering these last two weeks takes a slightly different turn this Sunday. Today we consider the spiritual disciplines that exercise us in that faith and deepen our faith as they do so. The overarching discipline is prayer. The readings today offer various aspects of this prayer for our consideration. There is the spiritual discipline of prayer itself, which is essential to the life of the disciple; there is the communal dimension of prayer; and there is the ministerial commitment that is born of prayer. The spiritual discipline of prayer is seen in the exhortation for ceaseless prayer.  Our personal prayer must be persistent. Like Moses and the woman in the gospel reading, we must be ceaseless in our prayer, not discouraged by difficulties we might have to face. The woman's persistence finally opened the door of the judge. This story only captures one facet of prayer, namely, God's openness to us. In reality, prayer develops a mutual openness: God is open to our desire for Him and we are open to His desire for us. In the gospel account it is the woman who was persistent; in reality, it is God who prevails upon us to open ourselves. The gospel only hints at this particular aspect of prayer. It states that the Son of Man will come seeking faith. The first reading strongly emphasizes the communal dimension of prayer. The Israelites would not have been able to prevail against the Amalekites without Moses’ prayerful action, but he would not have been able to persevere in his action of entreaty had not Aaron and Hur supported him. The stress in today's world on the importance of the individual, as important as this may be, has obscured the reality of our social nature and our inability to thrive or even survive without others.  It is a big pity that we Nigerians gifted by God in community way of life are losing that God-given-gift very quickly. Quest for individual enhancement, especially, in the area of amassing wealth for selfish purposes not only militates today against the community aspect of our lives but negatively influences its spiritual dimension. This is because what is true about life is true about prayer. We were saved as a people. Salvation may unfold in each life in a particular way, but it is not simply an individual quest or a personal blessing. Christ saved all of humankind. To develop a communal sense may be one of the most challenging aspects of discipleship for many of us today, but develop it we must. The ministerial dimension of prayer can be seen in Paul’s admonition to Timothy to keep preaching the gospel, spreading the good news, allowing the Scriptures to continue being a source of wisdom for himself and, through him, for all of the people who hear him. To have this kind of facility with Scripture requires that one should enter into the deep meaning of the Scriptures and make them the basis of one's prayer. One must engage in what the monks call lectio divina - prayerful reflective reading of the Scriptures. This practice, or spiritual discipline, gives us access to God, and it also gives God access to us. It moves us out of our penchant toward isolated devotion into ministerial commitment. It gives us the courage and gentleness to teach, refute and correct. When our ministerial activity flows from prayer, it also flows from and strengthens right relationships with God, the religious tradition and the community. When this becomes a reality, the Son of Man will indeed find faith on earth. May we, therefore, in this Eucharistic celebration be endowed with gifts of genuine faith and prayerful openness to God. + John I. Okoye.
(pictures  by Chukwubike)

Saturday 12 October 2019

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C, 2019

May we receive pardon for our sins through our faith in God, and through the graces of this Eucharistic celebration be endowed with the graces to be ever ready to reciprocate God’s love to us through our expression of gratitude in Him. Happy Sunday!

DOCTRINE AND FAITH
(2 Kings 5, 14-17; 2 Timothy 2, 8-13; Luke 17, 11-19: 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C, 2019)
The first reading for today is a narrative about healing, gratitude, conversion, and worship. The primary character in the story is Naaman, a foreigner who was cured of leprosy by immersion in water and converted to the God of Israel. Miraculously, the waters of the Jordan transformed Naaman's flesh into that of a child. Naaman was a man of means. He traveled with a retinue, an entourage that probably included attendants of various kinds. Suffering from leprosy must have been a terrible physical affliction and an unbearable social stigma as well. When he realised he had been cured, his indebtedness prompted him to return to Elisha and offer him gifts. This should not be construed as payment for services but rather an expression of gratitude. Having experienced the power of Elisha's God, he proclaims there is no other God but the Lord. Evidence of the sincerity of his conversion is seen in his desire to worship the God of Israel even when he is back in his own land. Since it was believed that one could only worship a god in the land of that god (for example, Gen 4,16; 1 Sam 26, 19), Naaman asks permission to take some earth back home with him so that he will be able to worship the God of Israel even outside the land. The story of Naaman champions monotheism and universalism. It is not surprising that an Israelite would claim there is no God but the Lord. When a non-Israelite does, it is truly remarkable. Naaman may have needed a miracle to recognise this truth, but recognise it he did! Something else makes this story exceptional. When there were many people suffering from leprosy in Israel, God chose to heal a foreigner. This demonstrates God's love and concern for all, Israelites and non-Israelites alike. One feature of this story betrays the uneven development of Naaman's monotheistic faith. While he does declare that the Lord and only the Lord is God, he has not yet realised that this means God's power extends over the entire world. Naaman does not need the land of Israel to ensure the presence of the God of Israel.
In the second reading, 2 Timothy 2,8-13, Paul exhorts Timothy to remember what is most important in the gospel Paul has preached. He is speaking here of a manner of remembering that is far more than merely calling to mind. It is a way of witnessing to the authenticity of what is remembered. In this case it is a truth that is twofold: Jesus Christ is raised from the dead and he is a descendant of David. The first component of the testimony is the very basis of Christian faith. The title "Christ" means "anointed one," the long-awaited one who would inaugurate the reign of God and bring it to fulfilment. This was accomplished through his death and resurrection. The fact that he came from the line of David shows that he fulfilled all the expectations and promises associated with that royal family. This is the gospel to which Paul committed himself and for which he was now suffering imprisonment. Paul’s attitude toward his confinement is complex. While he considered it a privilege to suffer the same fate as did his Lord, it was still a great affliction for him. It prevented him from engaging in the ministry in which he took such pride. It kept him from the people whose lives he had touched and who had touched his life. More than this, Paul was a freeborn Roman citizen. It must have been a great humiliation for him to have been treated like a common malefactor, a slave, or a conquered captive. He calls himself a criminal, a term generally used to designate burglars, murderers, traitors, or other serious offenders. Still, the greater his humiliation and torment, the more he rejoices in participating in the sufferings of Christ. The agony and indignity Paul bears are seen by him as a share in the birth pangs of the Messiah, that necessary suffering that would precede the birth of the reign of God. The idea that there was a predetermined amount of suffering that had to be endured before this glorious reign could come seems to lie behind Paul's thought here. He believed that the more suffering he would undergo, the less the rest of the Church would have to undergo and the sooner the reign would appear. He seems to have been assured of his own salvation, and in this way he sought to assure the salvation of others as well-not that he could earn it but that he could actively participate in its dawning.
The gospel narrative, Luke 17, 11-19, echoes the story recounted in the first reading. It is the story of a foreigner who suffered the pain and indignities of leprosy. He was cured by the power of God and returned to give thanks. While similar lessons are taught in both narratives, each contains its own meaning. The gospel reveals the power of God working through Jesus and the power of faith to save. The abhorrent nature of leprosy can be seen in the fact that the ethnic and religious rivalry that existed between the Jews and the Samaritans was superseded by the disease. In a sense, the disease took complete control of them. They had no other identity but the disease of leprosy. They could claim no ethnic or political privileges, and were barred from religious practice. According to the law they were to be isolated outside the cities and villages, segregated from all the normal activities of life (cf. Lev 13,46; Num 5,2-3), crying out "Unclean" should anyone approach them (cf. Lev 13,45). These outcasts recognised Jesus, for standing at a distance, they cried out to him by name. They also addressed him as Master (epistates), a term only the disciples used for Jesus. They did not ask for alms, as was customary for destitute people who sat outside the villages begging for food or money. They asked for mercy, for compassion. Knowing who Jesus was, this probably meant they were seeking a cure. Jesus neither touched nor spoke words of healing over them. He merely sent them away with directions. He put their faith to the test by having them go to the priests presuming they would be healed. They were sent to the priests who, as cultic functionaries, were responsible for protecting purity and guarding against impurity (cf. Lev 14:2). They did as Jesus directed them, and on the way, they were healed. Only one man returned to thank Jesus. He is described with bold strokes: he glorifies God; he prostrates himself before Jesus; he is a Samaritan. He is not surprised that Jesus healed him. He, along with his companions, had recognised  Jesus earlier and had hoped for a cure. Nor is he the only one who had faith. They all believed Jesus had the power to heal them, and they all went off to show themselves to the priests. What makes this man unique is his gratitude. Furthermore, it is a Samaritan, one who is despised by the Jews, who shows gratitude to the Jewish wonder-worker a point Jesus clearly makes. Jesus commends the man for his faith. Once again the last (a Samaritan) will be first (held up as an example).

The readings for today suggest a journey. They trace the stages of Christian conversion from sin through healing to gratitude and finally to the privilege of living fulfilled lives in the eschatological age. The journey begins with the stories of Naaman and the ten men who had leprosy. Their leprosy, which was the principal alienating disease of that period, serves as a metaphor for our sinfulness, the condition that makes us unfit for the presence of God and despicable in the eyes of others. Separated from God and alienated from society, we are truly in a deplorable state, a state out of which we are unable to extricate ourselves. Into these seemingly hopeless conditions came the prophet Elisha and Jesus. Each in his own way brings the healing power of God, and His saving grace. Paul is such a mediator as well. He brings the gospel to those who are in need of salvation. When people are open to his preaching, they are transformed and made ready to receive eternal glory. It is interesting to note that in both narratives the agent of God's healing did not belong to the social group of the one healed. In other words, God's grace does not move along ethnic, racial, gender, class or generational lines. God's healing grace is sometimes available to us through unfamiliar means. Had Naaman not crossed ethnic boundaries, he would not have been healed by waters that were foreign to him. Had the Samaritan man not been in the company of the other leprous men or had he not approached the Jewish Jesus, he would not have been healed. God's grace comes to us from unexpected quarters and in unexpected ways. The next step in our journey of conversion is the response of gratitude and praise. Both Naaman and the lone Samaritan are so filled with gratitude they returned to the one responsible for their healing. They were not so preoccupied with their good fortune as to forget that it came to them as a gift. They must have known unbelievable joy in their cure, but the narratives depict them as overwhelmed with gratitude. Their response is the kind of thanks and praise proclaimed in the psalm and also celebrated at each Sunday Eucharist. We have been saved from our alienation from God and one another. Let us give thanks to the Lord. Those who knew they have been healed, who realise this was a gift freely given to them, and who return to give thanks have, by these acts of devotion, stepped over a threshold into a new way of living. Their thanks and praise usher them into the new age of eschatological promise: if we have died with him, we will live with him. This new life is completely dependent upon faith. For Naaman it was faith in the words of the prophet; for the leprous man, it was faith in the words of Jesus; for the people to whom Paul wrote, it was faith in the words of his teaching. We see this Sunday what we have seen on earlier Sundays, that is, the importance of faith and the role played by the community in bringing the promises of God to fulfilment. May we, therefore, be granted in today’s Eucharistic celebration the gift to be brought back to friendship with God and the grace to be grateful to God for favours granted to us. Happy Sunday! +John I. Okoye.

(graphics  by chukwubike)

Sunday 6 October 2019

27th Sunday of the Year C, 2019


May the good Lord grant us the graces of good and quality faith that will enable us stand steadfast and righteous in dark times and be instruments of faith to others.


DOCTRINE AND FAITH
(Habakkuk 1,2-3; 2,2-4; 2 Timothy 1 ,6-8, 13-14; Luke 17,5-10: 27th Sunday of the Year C, 2019)

                This reading from the prophet Habakkuk consists of two parts. The first (1,2-3) is a direct address to God by the prophet. In the second (2,2-4) the prophet reports the response he received from God. The opening words of the reading are forceful and disturbing. The prophet cries out to God with the words of a psalm of lament: How long? Why? In fact, complaint to God is an expression of profound religious sentiment of belief that God is capable of remedying the situation. Lament is also an expression of hope. One would not turn to God if one did not trust that God would intervene. The case of Habakkuk is unusual. He begins by lamenting what appears to be God's indifference: it seems that God has turned a deaf ear to his anguish. It is not enough that he is engulfed by misfortune; he must also endure God's impassivity. And so he cries out. Finally, God does respond, not with an answer but with a vision. This vision is to be written down. Its fulfilment which is in the future, does have its appointed time of disclosure which is known only to God, and contrary to what appearances might suggest, God is indeed in charge of the events of life. Habakkuk, and everyone else with him, will just have to wait patiently until the appointed time arrives. Without telling him why he has had to carry the burden of suffering or how long he will have to wait, God instructs him in the manner of his waiting: the righteous wait in faith.
In the second reading, 2Timothy 1,6-8.13-14, Paul appeals to Timothy to manifest courage in the face of hardship. In these few verses Paul admonishes Timothy to renew his zeal, not to be ashamed of the gospel, bear his share of suffering, adhere to his teaching and to safeguard it. Timothy was quite a bit less forceful than his colleague Paul. While there is no question about the steadfastness of his faith, it appears that he struggled with a certain degree of cowardice, the kind of terror that grips the timid in the face of extreme difficulty. The zeal that previously blazed within him seems to have waned, and Paul challenges him to fan it back into flame. He received a particular charism on the occasion of his commission for ministry. It is this gift he must rekindle. Timothy needs the power, love, and self-discipline that will enable him to stand up courageously and witness to his faith. Paul also exhorts Timothy to witness to the Lord without shame, adding that he should not be ashamed of Paul either. Furthermore, just as Paul is, Timothy should be willing to accept and embrace the suffering that will inevitably befall him as a minister of the gospel. He must be ready for misunderstanding, resentment, and hostility. He must face the possibility of imprisonment just as Jesus did, and Paul after him. Having addressed Timothy's personal conflict, Paul turned to the substance of his preaching. Paul had handed the essence of the gospel on to Timothy. It was now Timothy's turn to carry it to others. He was not, merely, to repeat Paul's words. They were to be the norm, the standard against which all other teaching would be measured. Just as Paul did in his own ministry, so Timothy would have to refashion the teaching he received for new situations. The ministerial approach Paul advocates is what we, today, refer to as re-contextualization. Then and now, it requires that the minister be both faithful to the tradition and creative in articulating it in a new way. Timothy must guard the trust that is his but allow the Spirit to move where it will.


In the gospel narrative, Luke 17, 5-10, there are two independent sayings.
The first treats the power of prayer; the second addresses the responsibilities of disciples. As is so often the case, Jesus' response to a request includes a shift in perspective. The apostles ask for an increase of faith and Jesus speaks about its nature. They are interested in quantity and he is concerned about quality. He employs an image that suggests size in order to describe effective authority. It is not necessary to procure more faith as the disciples requested. Rather, one should be concerned to secure even a small amount of genuine faith. Such faith will be able to realise even what s
eems impossible. In the second part of the gospel narrative, Jesus is teaching about the obligations of the one in service, not about the responsibilities of the one being served. Disciples of Jesus should expect a similar lot. They have been called to labor, and when they fulfil their duties faithfully, they have only done what is required of them. The saying challenges any form of self-adulation based on accomplishments. The servants are unprofitable not because they do not do good work but perhaps because they are regarded as replaceable. When they can no longer fulfil their responsibilities, there will be someone to take their place. As harsh as this may sound, it is true. The rewards of discipleship must be sought in something other than a bonus.
The readings for this Sunday call us to faith. Today we reflect on the sense of the absence of God as the crucible within which this faith is forged and refined. We also acknowledge that faith is a gift from God, not a personal disposition of soul or a prize we have won. Finally, while faith may come to us from God, it is mediated through the community. In our struggles to be faithful disciples we frequently must endure periods of hard times, some quite short and others unbearably long, when we feel abandoned by God. Such experiences are difficult under any circumstances. When we have been intent on serving God with genuine devotion, such times are, particularly, trying for one would expect that God would not withdraw consolations. However, even the righteous sometimes feel abandoned by God. When this happens, the broken heart and the strained spirit cry out to God in complaint: How long? Why? Times of near despair know no restrictions on age, gender or class. Teenagers often search frantically for meaning and identity; people in midlife crises may desperately question their life choices; the elderly can feel that everything they have held dear is either taken from them or is slipping away. People fall victim to natural disasters wherein they lose everything that gave their lives meaning. Husbands and wives are betrayed by their partners, and their entire lives crumble before their very eyes. Illness strikes indiscriminately, and death's shadow looms over all. Finally, we have all known the tedium of life. We have all been worn down by it, tempted to give up, too weary to go on. These are all moments when we stand before the doors to faith and despair, trying to decide through which one we will pass. Faith in God is a gift for which we pray. It enables us to accomplish marvellous feats; with it we can move mountains. As unprofitable servants we do not earn it; we have no right to claim it as our own. If we are honest, we will have to admit that there are many people we know who are more generous than we are, more patient and loving, who live lives of greater integrity yet who do not have the faith we do. If we are honest, we have to ask ourselves: Why are we, and not they, so disposed toward God? And there is no answer to this question, except to realise that the faith we have is a gift from God. In God's goodness, these others will be cared for, but we are the ones to whom faith has been given. And, therefore, we are the ones from whom faithful service will be expected. We will be sent to plow the fields and tend the sheep. We will be called to serve at table. Another aspect of faith is that it comes through hearing as the faith that is ours has been mediated to us through the community. We have heard about God and about Jesus from others: from our parents and families, from our teachers and those who preach, from those with whom we work and play. Faith comes from God, but through the mediation of the community. Timothy received faith from his mother and grandmother. It was strengthened in him through the imposition of Paul's hands and through his preaching of the word of God. Furthermore, what Paul taught had first been handed down to him from those who preceded him. God grants us the gift of faith, but it comes to us through others. Perhaps those whom we know to be better than we are have not yet met someone through whom this gift can be mediated. The challenge could be ours to become instruments through which they may be bestowed with genuine and quality faith. May the good Lord, therefore, grant us the graces of good and quality faith that will enable us stand steadfast and righteous in dark times and be instruments of faith to others. Happy Sunday! +John I. Okoye
(graphics  by Chukwubike)