As Jesus approached Jerusalem, today’s gospels says, some of the leaders tried to trap him with a question about paying taxes to Caesar.
Taxes are always controversial, but in Jesus’ time they were moreso. This was a Roman tax. No good Jew was in favor of it, but if you didn’t pay it you could be put to death.
You can see his enemies wanted to discredit Jesus before the people, and if he refused to pay the tax, he could be executed.
Jesus’ answer squarely acknowledges the rights of Caesar and the rights of God.
“Show me the coin that pays the census tax.” Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” They replied, “Caesar’s.” At that he said to them, “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”
Did you ever think what would happen if Jesus said. “Don’t pay that tax.” If he said that some would say, “Finally, we have someone who’s protesting. Someone’s standing up against injustice.” And of course they would have taken Jesus there and then, and executed him.
So this is a story that reminds us that we don’t live in a perfect world, but even in an imperfect world we have to give to God what belongs to God.
We all live in an imperfect world where you pay taxes to Caesar, where we live in a society that’s flawed and unfair and unjust.
Jesus was not a revolutionary. He spoke up against injustice and unfairness, but be wasn’t a revolutionary advocating violence. He lived in the world as it was.
Is that what he teaches us to do too? To live in the world as it is. Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, but to God what belongs to God.
Our readings this week are from chapter 12 in Mark’s Gospel. From Galilee where he was initially welcomed by the people and where so much of his ministry and so many of his miracles occurred, Jesus travels to Jerusalem from Jericho. In Jerusalem he faces harsh questioning from the Jerusalem authorities. Eventually they put him to death; then he will rise. (Mk 11:1–16:8)
Mark sees Jesus in our readings as the “beloved Son” sent into the vineyard, where he is seized and killed. ( Mark 12:1-11) In Mark’s Gospel Jesus works only one miracle in Jerusalem, a puzzling miracle: the cursing of the fig tree. (Mark 11: 12-14,20-21) So different from John’s Gospel where Jesus performs important miracles in Jerusalem, like the raising of Lazarus and the cure of the man born blind.
Mark’s portrayal of Jesus shows his humanity. He’s provoked by the hypocrisy of the scribes and their questions. He’s annoyed at their efforts to entrap him. “In human likeness” he will suffer and die. Still, he enters Jerusalem, seemingly powerless, yet powerful.
Fra Angelico’s painting of Peter preaching and Mark sitting among his listeners taking notes comes from a long held belief that Mark’s Gospel was influenced by Peter. Mark’s mother lived in Jerusalem, so he must have known the city well. He tells us it did not receive Jesus well.
Even disciples, like Peter, did not fully understand Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem. One disciple will betray him, Judas. Peter will deny him. All the eleven will leave him. Yet, Jesus eats his Last Supper with them. After this resurrection he calls them to Galilee where he will reveal himself to them, risen from the dead.We are reading from chapter 12 in Mark’s Gospel this week. From Galilee where Jesus was welcomed by the people and where so much of his ministry and miracles occurred, Mark presents Jesus traveling to Jericho and then up to Jerusalem where he faces harsh questioning from the Jerusalem authorities. Eventually they put him to death; then he will rise. (Mk 11:1–16:8)
We need Christians today like St. Justin, the 2nd century philosopher remembered June 1. “We need to make our teaching known,” he said. Still true today.
In Justin’s time, philosophers were the mentors, teachers, influencers of Roman society/ They were welcomed in the forum and private homes of the Roman world. St. Paul addressed them in Athens with limited success. Justin was a Christian philosopher in Rome.
Born in Nablus in Palestine of Greek parents, Justin studied all the philosophers of his time in Alexandria, Athens and Ephesus. It may have been in Ephesus around the year 130 that he encountered Christianity when, walking along the seashore, he met an old man who told him the human heart could never be satisfied by Plato for “the prophets alone announced the truth.”
“After telling me these and other things…he went away and I never saw him again, but a flame kindled in my soul, filling me with love for the prophets and the friends of Christ. I thought about his words and became a philosopher..” (Dialogue 8)
Justin was influenced, not only by Christian teaching, but also by the example of Christians he met:
“I liked Plato’s teaching at first and enjoyed hearing evil spoken about Christians, but then I saw they had no fear of death or other things that horrify, and I realized they were not vicious or pleasure-loving at all.” (Apology 2,12)
Ruins of the Roman Forum
Justin championed the cause of Christians who were increasingly attacked by society. Donning a philosopher’s cloak he taught and wrote in Rome about the year 150 AD. He was a new kind of Christian, a Christian philosopher engaging Roman society on its own terms. He gave Christianity a Roman face and voice.
Justin defended Christians against the charge they were atheists and enemies of the Roman state. Christians were good citizens, he wrote, who pray for Rome, though they don’t worship in temples, who had no statues of gods or who did not participate in the religious rites of the state. Justin’s writings give us a unique picture of 2nd century Christianity and early Christian worship.
In his “Dialogue with Trypho, the Jew” Justin offered the traditional Christian defense of Christianity to a Jewish antagonist. The Jewish prophets predicted the coming, the death and resurrection of Jesus, Justin argues.
In the documents of Vatican ii, Justin is recognized as an early example of Christian ecumenism. (Evangelium Nuntiandi 53) Through the Word of God all things came to be, he said. The Word became flesh in Jesus Christ, but Justin linked the biblical Word to the Logos of the philosophers. “Seeds of the Word” were scattered throughout the world, Justin claimed. Every human being possesses in his mind a seed of the Word, and so besides the prophets of the Old Testament, pagan philosophers like Heraclitus, Socrates and Musonius lead us to Jesus Christ, Justin said. (Apology 1,46)
A prolific writer and teacher, Justin was an early Christian intellectual using his talents to promote his faith, Unfortunately only three of his writings come down to us. Other Christian intellectuals followed him, using the tools of philosophy to dialogue with the Greco-Roman world.
Finally, rivals in Rome pressed charges against Justin as an enemy of the state and he was brought before a Roman judge along with six companions. Sentenced to death, they were beheaded probably in the year 165 AD. The official court record of their trial still survives.
“The saints were seized and brought before the prefect of Rome, whose name was Rusticus. As they stood before the judgement seat, Rusticus the prefect said to Justin: “Above all, have faith in the gods and obey the emperors.” Justin said: “We cannot be accused or condemned for obeying the commands of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.”
Rusticus said: “What system of teaching do you profess?” Justin said: “I have tried to learn about every system, but I have accepted the true doctrines of the Christians, though these are not approved by those who are held fast by error.”
The prefect Rusticus said: “Are those doctrines approved by you, wretch that you are?” Justin said: “Yes, for I follow them with their correct teaching.”
The prefect Rusticus said: “What sort of teaching is that?” Justin said: “Worship the God of the Christians. We hold him to be from the beginning the one creator and maker of the whole creation, of things seen and things unseen. We worship also the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God. He was foretold by the prophets as the future herald of salvation for the human race and the teacher of distinguished disciples. For myself, since I am a human being, I consider that what I say is insignificant in comparison with his infinite godhead. I acknowledge the existence of a prophetic power, for the one I have just spoken of as the Son of God was the subject of prophecy. I know that the prophets were inspired from above when they spoke of his coming among men.”
Rusticus said: “You are a Christian, then?” Justin said: “Yes, I am a Christian.”
The prefect said to Justin: “You are called a learned man and think that you know what is true teaching. Listen: if you were scourged and beheaded, are you convinced that you would go up to heaven?” Justin said: “I hope that I shall enter God’s house if I suffer that way. For I know that God’s favour is stored up until the end of the whole world for all who have lived good lives.”
The prefect Rusticus said: “Do you have an idea that you will go up to heaven to receive some suitable rewards?” Justin said: “It is not an idea that I have; it is something I know well and hold to be most certain.”
The prefect Rusticus said: “Now let us come to the point at issue, which is necessary and urgent. Gather round then and with one accord offer sacrifice to the gods.” Justin said: “No one who is right thinking stoops from true worship to false worship.”
The prefect Rusticus said: “If you do not do as you are commanded you will be tortured without mercy.” Justin said: “We hope to suffer torment for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ, and so be saved. For this will bring us salvation and confidence as we stand before the more terrible and universal judgement-seat of our Lord and Saviour.”
In the same way the other martyrs also said: “Do what you will. We are Christians; we do not offer sacrifice to idols.”
The prefect Rusticus pronounced sentence, saying: “Let those who have refused to sacrifice to the gods and to obey the command of the emperor be scourged and led away to suffer capital punishment according to the ruling of the laws.” Glorifying God, the holy martyrs went out to the accustomed place. They were beheaded, and so fulfilled their witness of martyrdom in confessing their faith in their Saviour.”
Here’s Pope Francis on Jesus meeting Bartimaeus, the blind man:
” Jesus has just left Jericho. Even though he has only begun his most important journey, which will take him to Jerusalem, he still stops to respond to Bartimaeus’ cry. Jesus is moved by his request and becomes involved in his situation. He is not content to offer him alms, but rather wants to personally encounter him. He does not give him any instruction or response, but asks him: “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mk 10:51). It might seem a senseless question: what could a blind man wish for if not his sight? Yet, with this question made face to face, direct but respectful, Jesus shows that he wants to hear our needs. He wants to talk with each of us about our lives, our real situations, so that nothing is kept from him. After Bartimaeus’ healing, the Lord tells him: “Your faith has made you well” (v. 52). It is beautiful to see how Christ admires Bartimaeus’ faith, how he has confidence in him. He believes in us, more than we believe in ourselves.
There is an interesting detail. Jesus asks his disciples to go and call Bartimaeus. They address the blind man with two expressions, which only Jesus uses in the rest of the Gospel. First they say to him: “Take heart!”, which literally means “have faith, strong courage!”. Indeed, only an encounter with Jesus gives a person the strength to face the most difficult situations. The second expression is “Rise!”, as Jesus said to so many of the sick, whom he took by the hand and healed. His disciples do nothing other than repeat Jesus’ encouraging and liberating words, leading him directly to Jesus, without lecturing him. Jesus’ disciples are called to this, even today, especially today: to bring people into contact with the compassionate Mercy that saves. When humanity’s cry, like Bartimaeus’, becomes stronger still, there is no other response than to make Jesus’ words our own and, above all, imitate his heart. Moments of suffering and conflict are for God occasions of mercy. Today is a time of mercy!
There are, however, some temptations for those who follow Jesus. Today’s Gospel shows at least two of them. None of the disciples stopped, as Jesus did. They continued to walk, going on as if nothing were happening. If Bartimaeus was blind, they were deaf: his problem was not their problem. This can be a danger for us: in the face of constant problems, it is better to move on, instead of letting ourselves be bothered. In this way, just like the disciples, we are with Jesus but we do not think like him. We are in his group, but our hearts are not open. We lose wonder, gratitude and enthusiasm, and risk becoming habitually unmoved by grace. We are able to speak about him and work for him, but we live far from his heart, which is reaching out to those who are wounded. This is the temptation: a “spirituality of illusion”: we can walk through the deserts of humanity without seeing what is really there; instead, we see what we want to see. We are capable of developing views of the world, but we do not accept what the Lord places before our eyes. A faith that does not know how to root itself in the life of people remains arid and, rather than oases, creates other deserts.
There is a second temptation, that of falling into a “scheduled faith”. We are able to walk with the People of God, but we already have our schedule for the journey, where everything is listed: we know where to go and how long it will take; everyone must respect our rhythm and every problem is a bother. We run the risk of becoming the “many” of the Gospel who lose patience and rebuke Bartimaeus. Just a short time before, they scolded the children (cf. 10:13), and now the blind beggar: whoever bothers us or is not of our stature is excluded. Jesus, on the other hand, wants to include, above all those kept on the fringes who are crying out to him. They, like Bartimaeus, have faith, because awareness of the need for salvation is the best way of encountering Jesus.
In the end, Bartimaeus follows Jesus on his path (cf. v. 52). He did not only regain his sight, but he joined the community of those who walk with Jesus. Dear Synod Fathers, we have walked together. Thank you for the path we have shared with our eyes fixed on Jesus and our brothers and sisters, in the search for the paths which the Gospel indicates for our times so that we can proclaim the mystery of family love. Let us follow the path that the Lord desires. Let us ask him to turn to us with his healing and saving gaze, which knows how to radiate light, as it recalls the splendour which illuminates it. Never allowing ourselves to be tarnished by pessimism or sin, let us seek and look upon the glory of God, which shines forth in men and women who are fully alive. “
Three popes involved in the Second Vatican Council have been canonized saints: Pope John XXIII, Pope John Paul II, and Pope Paul VI, whom we remember in our liturgy today. They were declared saints, not just because they were popes, but because of their holiness and their involvement and promotion of the council.
All of them recognized the Second Vatican Council as the work of the Holy Spirit and each, in his own way, implemented the council. Pope Leo continues the work of the popes before him.
The popes often describe the council as the path the church must take into the future. Some years ago, Pope Francis described that path as the road Jesus took from Jericho to Jerusalem to enter the mystery of his death and resurrection. A winding road, not easy to travel. According to Mark’s gospel his journey began with a delay. Jesus stopped to engage Bartimaeus, the blind beggar.
The path has unexpected turns and delays. It can’t be scheduled by a calendar or the best of church planning. It’s the work of the Holy Spirit who is above human planning.
Paul VI was involved especially in the liturgical changes of the council. The shape of our liturgy today is largely due to him. A brilliant man, he also very cautious , with a mind for details. As liturgical changes were being discussed at the council and implemented afterwards, a strong minority in the church urged him to go slowly and not to change much. Despite their great pressure he trusted and supported the theologians, catechists and pastors who produced our present liturgy.
Take a look at an early picture of the road from Jericho to Jerusalem, taken from the air in the 1930s. That’s the path of Vatican II.
Road from Jericho to Jerusalem: from the air.
Two of Pope Paul’s letters are particularly important. Ecclesiam suamon dialogue with the world, and Progressio populorum on the need for the development of peoples.
Where did I find you in order to make your acquaintance in the first place? You could not have been in my memory before I learned to know you. Where then could I have found you in order to learn of you, if not in yourself, far above me? “Place” has here no meaning: further away from you or towards you we may travel, but place there is none. O Truth, you hold sovereign sway over all who turn to you for counsel, and to all of them you respond at the same time, however diverse their pleas.
Clear is your response, but not all hear it clearly. They all appeal to you about what they want, but do not always hear what they want to hear. Your best servant is the one who is less intent on hearing from you what accords with his own will, and more on embracing with his will what he has heard from you.
Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.
You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.
When at last I cling to you with my whole being there will be no more anguish or labour for me, and my life will be alive indeed, alive because filled with you. But now it is very different. Anyone whom you fill you also uplift; but I am not full of you, and so I am a burden to myself. Joys over which I ought to weep do battle with sorrows that should be matter for joy, and I do not know which will be victorious. But I also see griefs that are evil at war in me with joys that are good, and I do not know which will win the day. This is agony, Lord, have pity on me! It is agony! See, I do not hide my wounds; you are the physician and I am sick; you are merciful, I in need of mercy.
Is not human life on earth a time of testing? Who would choose troubles and hardships? You command us to endure them, but not to love them. No-one loves what he has to endure, even if he loves the endurance, for although he may rejoice in his power to endure, he would prefer to have nothing that demands endurance. In adverse circumstances I long for prosperity, and in times of prosperity I dread adversity. What middle ground is there, between these two, where human life might be free from trial? Woe betide worldly prosperity, and woe again, from fear of disaster and evanescent joy! But woe, woe, and woe again upon worldly adversity, from envy of better fortune, the hardship of adversity itself, and the fear that endurance may falter. Is not human life on earth a time of testing without respite?
On your exceedingly great mercy, and on that alone, rests all my hope.
We are leaving Easter Season and going back to Ordinary Time. In our calendar the saints are muted in Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter seasons in order to explore the mystery of Jesus Christ. Like Sundays, the saints do not take first place on these days.
The saints come marching in during Ordinary Time. Our yearly calendar features saints from different times and places because God works in different times and places, however it might seem. God works through saints.
Our recent celebration of the memorial of St. Philip Neri (May 25) is a good example. He lived a remarkably joyful life in 16th century Rome, a city engulfed in the scandals of the papacy and cries for reform. Along with other saints, like Ignatius Loyola, he brought hope and reform to the church of his time.
The trend in hagiography – the study of the saints – is to see them in the world that was theirs, which helps us live in the world that’s ours.“From their place in heaven, they guide us still.” (Preface of the Apostles) They shaped their world. We must do that too.
Contemporary studies of the saints also recognize saints weren’t perfect. They were part the political, social, intellectual and religious worlds they lived in. Still, more than today’s celebrities—the media darlings of our time, more than political or business figures, the saints shaped their world. We must do that too.
We need their wisdom and example today.
The saints point to an unfolding plan of God. In a few days we will be celebrating the feast of St. Justin, Martyr. (June 1) Justin was not only an early martyr for his faith, he was also a philosopher who enlisted reason to defend the faith. He’s a witness to God’s plan to embrace reason in our search meaning. A long line of philosophers follow him.
We celebrate St. Charles Lwanga and Companions, African martyrs, (June 3) who point to the expansion of the church in Africa in recent times. St. Boniface (June 5) was the apostle to the Germanic people and instrumental in changing the face of Europe.
There are many saints in our church. Those who revised our calendar of saints after the Second Vatican Council recognized there are some saints more important than others for understanding our developing church. So they designated the feasts of the more important saints as memorials. Others are optional memorials. For some nations or religious communities or individuals these remembered in optional memorials may be important, but saints honored by memorials need to be especially singled out and celebrated in our liturgy.
Keep in mind the year 70 when reading the Gospel of Mark and the letters of James and Peter in this first week of ordinary time. In the year 70 Roman armies destroyed Jerusalem and its temple and brought its treasures and many Jews as slaves in triumph to Rome. By the year 81 the Emperor Domitian built the Arch of Titus at the entrance to the Roman Forum to honor Titus, his brother, the general who crushed the Jewish revolt. Scenes of Titus’ army returning with the treasures and Jewish slaves–still visible on the arch today– would remind everyone of Roman might.
Arch of Titus, Roman Forum, Rome
A few years before the year 70, Peter and Paul, leading figures of Christian expansion in the empire, were put to death under Nero. His persecution was unexpected. The years of Christian expansion described in the Acts of the Apostles– our readings during easter time– seemed over. Surely, Jewish and Gentile Christians experienced fear and questioned as a result of these crushing events?
The Gospel of Mark and the letters of James and Peter were written for Christians facing perilous times.
In Mark’s gospel Jesus tells his disciples: “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to question him“ (Mark 9)
The year 70 made Christians question the coming of the kingdom. Keep the year 70 in mind when reading the scriptures from Mark, James and Peter these weeks in the lectionary . We never know.
