“Is he not the carpenter, Mary’s son? Where did he get all this?

Mark 6:1-6

Pope John Paul — now St. John Paul — recommended we pray the Rosary as a “School of Mary,” because the rosary Mary teaches us the mysteries of Jesus, her Son. The pope recommended other mysteries besides the oyful, Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries, namely,  the Luminous Mysteries describing Jesus’ ministry––  the baptism of Jesus, the marriage feast of Cana, the transfiguration of Jesus, his preaching, the Last Supper. Mary helps us understand what these mysteries mean.

Let’s not forget Nazareth which we recall today. Mark and the evangelists Matthew and Luke say that Jesus after his baptism in the Jordan went back to Nazareth and was rejected by those who knew him from childhood. 

“Is he not the carpenter, Mary’s son?  Where did he get all this?”  Over and over the gospels tell us something we wouldn’t expect: that Jesus was rejected in places where he did so much good. The religious leaders reject him almost immediately as he begins his ministry in the towns along the Sea of Galilee. The towns themselves where he healed and taught reject him after he did so much for them. 

Mark’s gospel describes Jesus’ return to Nazareth after he raised a little girl from the dead in Capernaum.The girl’s father, Jairus, was an official in the synagogue at Capernaum, a significant witness to what had happened.

“He’s the carpenter. We know Mary his mother”, they say In Nazareth. Jesus is rejected in his hometown, a rejection he must have felt deeply. 

What about the rejection of Mary, his mother? In our recent feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the temple, the old man Simeon, who took the infant Jesus into his arms, turns to Mary, his mother, and tells her a sword will pierce her heart. 

We think of the sword that pierced her heart as she stood at the cross of her Son, but let’s not forget the sword that pierced Mary’s heart at Nazareth, the sword she felt when her neighbors, the people all around her, her own family, rejected her Son. Mary spent the days of her Son’s ministry in Galilee here where he was not welcome. 

Some women followed Jesus during his ministry, the gospels say, but Mary wasn’t among them. She only saw one miracle of Jesus, at Cana in Galilee, his “time had not come.”he told her. She  never saw him work the miracles he worked in the towns along the Sea of Galilee. She never heard him teach when his time came. She was never in the crowds that flocked around him. She was in Nazareth where they didn’t think much of him. 

Only when he went up to Jerusalem did Mary join the women of Galilee who accompanied him. Then, she took part in his last days when he was arrested and condemned and crucified. She stood beneath his cross. The sword of sorrow pierced her heart. 

I suppose we can say Nazareth. like Calvary, was Mary’s school of faith. Like Calvary, she learned in Nazareth to believe and not see. Nazareth and Calvary were schools of faith for her. “Blessed are they who have not seen, but believe.” 

I think one of Mary’s tasks in our church –– a task more important than ever now–– is to help us to believe even when we do not see, because our world today is like Nazareth, a world believing less and less. 

In the great apparitions of Mary at Lourdes and Fatima, for example, she came to help people, like Bernadette and the little children of Portugal, whose faith was shaken by the unbelief of their time, to believe.  

This is why we honor Mary each Saturday, the day following Friday, the day we honor the Passion of her Son. She helps us to believe.

 “O Lady Mary, thy bright crown is no mere crown of majesty, for with the reflex of his own resplendent thorns, Christ circled thee.”  ( Francis Thompson)

The evangelists Matthew, Mark and Luke all say that Jesus after beginning his ministry went back to Nazareth where he was rejected by those who knew him from childhood. Yet, the evangelists describe the visit taking place at different times.  Mark’s gospel says he returned to Nazareth after he raised a little girl from the dead. A miracle like that would be widely known. The girl’s father, Jairus, was a synagogue official.

Mark also says that before Jesus returned to Nazareth, others were already questioning the marvelous things he did. Scribes from Jerusalem, the religious experts of the time, were warning to keep away from him. So when Jesus visited Nazareth there were suspicions, warnings about him. Still, after raising a little girl to life, you would think he would be well received atNazareth. He wasn’t. 

Over and over Mark’s Gospel tells us what we wouldn’t expect: that Jesus was rejected in places where he went. In Capernaum, he drove out an unclean spirit, cured Peter’s mother-in-law and, at the end of the day, the whole town was at his door. {Mark 1, 16-34) Their enthusiasm doesn’t last, however. Capernaum and other towns in Galilee first receive him, then reject him. (Matthew 11,23)

In pagan territory, on the east bank of the Sea of Galilee, he also meets rejection. He cast out the unclean spirit there, as he did at Capernaum, but when the pigs stampede down into the sea the townspeople ask him to leave. He’s endangering their economy, they say. (Mark 5, 1-20)

Jesus did not have a continual path of success in his ministry, Even his own hometown, his family, don’t receive him well. Final rejection takes place on Calvary in his passion and death, but rejection and misunderstanding meet him all through his public life.

Nazareth had a prominent place in the story of Jesus’ rejection. Later apocryphal gospels dating from the 2nd century relate miraculous deeds Jesus did as a child, but they lack credibility. Jesus did nothing remarkable in his hidden years. He was just “the carpenter’s son”,  the child of Mary and Joseph, hardly noticed, “

Nazareth never seems to have accepted God’s Son. Historians say early Jewish-Christians after his resurrection were expelled from the town. The Christian presence in Nazareth has always been small, even today. Nazareth is part of the scandal of the Incarnation.

Recent commentaries on the Passion of Jesus say we should recognize that mystery of Jesus all through his life, not only as he enters the Garden of Gethsemane, We limit our understanding of Jesus if we see him only as a powerful teacher, a merciful worker of cures, one who commands the wind and the sea. The evangelists remind us that Jesus, “though he was in the form of God “humbled himself.” He carried a silent cross. a cross unseen, before the cross of wood.

February is Black History Month in the USA, a month to remember the accomplishments of  black men and women and the challenge of racism in our society.

Pierre Toussaint, a Haitian who came to New York City in the 18th century is someone who deserves to be known. As a black man and a slave, he was part of New York City’s population that for years went unnoticed and unrecognized. As a Catholic, he belonged to a church that was a suspect minority in New York City after the American Revolution.

Women belonging to New York City’s Protestant establishment were the first to bring Toussaint’s simple, delicate goodness to public attention. They noticed holiness in the hairdresser who had become a vital part of their lives and suggested to his church that there was a saint in their midst.

Toussaint’s remains lie today in the crypt under the main altar of New York City’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral, an honored member of his church. It usually takes time before someone is canonized by the Catholic Church, but one requirement is that people be inspired by the witness of his or her holiness and drawn to become holy themselves.

Some years ago Bishop Norbert Dorsey, CP, who died in 2013, wrote his doctoral thesis on Pierre Toussaint. His work is available here, thanks principally to Lynn Ballas, who so competently and generously edited and formatted the bishop’s work.

You can read Bishop Dorsey’s book about Pierre Toussaint by clicking the link below. May his holy life inspire you and draw you to God who blessed this faithful man.

Pierre Toussaint

Here’s a short video recently done:

“David rested with his ancestors and was buried in the City of David.
The length of David’s reign over Israel was forty years:
he reigned seven years in Hebron
and thirty-three years in Jerusalem.”  ( 1 Kings 2:12) (Thursday)

The Jewish scriptures we read this week in our lectionary describe the period of David’s life after his adultery and his murder of Uriah till his death and the succession of Solomon, his son. They recall the tragic death of his son, Absalom, (Tuesday), and his fear he has overstepped the will of God by calling for a census of his people.(Wednesday) The king faces the consequences of his sin and the pride that led to his fall. 

The reading for Friday from the Book of Sirach is a final appraisal of David, full of praise for him, dwelling on his achievements, not his failures. As a youth he felled Goliath , as a warrior he won battles and the praise of women who “praised him when they praised the Lord.”

He raised the standard of religious life in his kingdom: ” He set singers before the altar and by their voices  he made sweet melodies, He added beauty to the feasts and solemnized the seasons of each year.”

He passed on his wisdom to his son and urged him to serve God. 

The scriptures see mostly the triumph of God’s grace in David and not his sins. Only one line in its praise does the reading from Sirach mention his sin:

“The Lord forgave him his sins
            and exalted his strength forever;
He conferred on him the rights of royalty
            and established his throne in Israel.” (Sirach 47:11)

The Jewish scriptures have a wonderful way of telling the story and letting you see on your own what it means – and question what you read. A secular appraisal of David today, delving into his mind and the events of his life, would make the story of the murder and adultery the main focus for viewing him. Not so the scriptures.

Our readings this week from chapters 5 and 6 of Mark’s gospel begin: “They came to the other side of the sea, to the territory of the Gerasenes.” That’s pagan territory. Chapter 6 of Mark’s gospel begins: ”He departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples.”

Two important destinations for us, as well. Our native place, where we usually live,  and the world beyond. The readings this week show two worlds.

The two miracles of Jesus in Mark’s gospel for Tuesday take place “in his native place.” Jesus brings a little girl who died back to life. A dramatic story. The other miracle isn’t so dramatic. As Jesus goes to the little girl’s house, a woman comes up behind him. She’s been hemorrhaging blood for twelve years. She touches his garment and she’s cured.

No one in the crowd seems aware of what happened, except Jesus, who commends the woman for her faith. Power went out from him and cured her.

A miracle, yes, but not one you’d compare to what happened to the little  girl who was raised from the dead.   

Yet, the two stories are linked together in Mark’s Gospel. Why?  

Years ago I visited the catacombs in Rome where early Christians buried their dead. Over one of the graves in the 4th century Catacombs of Marcellinus and Peter was a simple picture of a woman touching the garments of Jesus, the story from our gospel. Why was it there, I wondered?

Other pictures in the catacombs were clearly messages about death. Jonah is saved from the belly of the whale,  the three children in Babylon are saved from the fiery furnace,  Lazarus comes out of the tomb. How does the picture of woman belong with them?

Is she saying to those resting here that you don’t have to see Jesus face to face to be saved by his power? She simply touched his garments. The Christians resting there never saw his face either, but they listened to his word; they knew him in sacraments–they touched his garments. They knew Jesus in signs and were saved by his power.

The Christians buried there were baptized in Christ with water; they received his body and blood in signs of bread and wine, they heard his word. Like the woman they touched his garments and the power of Jesus went out to them.

The Gospel of Mark was written in Rome around the year 70, many scholars say. By then most people who knew Jesus physically had passed on. Now I’m not a scholar by any means, but I wonder did Mark keep these two stories together to affirm what Christians of Rome believed. Jesus brought life to the little girl; he also brought life to the woman who touched his garments, and to all who touch his garments.

In preparing the Catechism of the Catholic Church for publication after the Second Vatican Council the authors of the catechism told publishers to put that picture from the catacombs of the woman touching the garments of Jesus at the beginning of its section on the sacraments.

The woman’s an image of a church that knows Jesus through signs, through sacraments. She’s an example of faith that believes Jesus really comes to us through signs.  They’re like the garments of Jesus the woman touched, which brought her life before she saw him face to face.  They also bring us life and the promise of seeing God face to face.

We celebrate the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple February 2nd, 40 days after his birth. St. Luke describes it in his gospel. (Luke 1-2) Our Christmas decorations may be down, but this event for Luke is a highlight of his Christmas story. The temple in Jerusalem is more important for him than the stable in Bethlehem. 

Archeologists have reconstructed a model of the temple then (Above) that may help us see why. The temple dominated the city Jerusalem . God was present here, “my Father’s house” Jesus called it when visiting as a young boy, listening to its teachers and asking them questions. (Luke 2: 25-41) In Luke’s Gospel the angel announces John’s birth to the priest Zachariah there. ( Luke 1: 5–25) Jesus is presented as an infant there. ( Luke 2: 25-38) For Luke the temple has a central role in the mission of Jesus.

At the outset of his ministry in Galilee, Jesus said that his “exodus”– his death and resurrection, must take place in Jerusalem. He died and rose again as the Passover was celebrated in the temple. (Luke 22:1) His followers prayed there as they waited to be “clothed with power from on high. “ ( Luke 24: 49) After his ascension into heaven, they “ then returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple praising God. (Luke 24, 52-52) Their first vibrant proclamation of the gospel takes place there after receiving the Holy Spirit.

Luke’s account of Jesus’ Presentation in the Temple initiates this relationship. Luke doesn’t dwell on the ritual when Mary and Joseph present the Child. He doesn’t give us the name of the priest or describe what Mary and Joseph do. At the heart of his story, God reveals himself through the Infant to two elderly Jews, Simeon and Anna, who wait patiently for the Messiah.

They’ve waited for years, but long waiting has not dulled their eyes. Waiting has made them sharper; they see salvation in this little infant, ” a light of revelation to the gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.”

True, though, waiting can dull our eyes? Year by year can diminish what we expect and hope for. Day after day, faith can get tired. Prayers can become rote, sacraments routine. A holy place just another place.

Not so for these two elderly Jews. Their steady presence in the temple made them sharper, quicker to recognize the light that came to that place. Hopefully, it will be the same for us.

We bless candles today, praying that our churches and homes may be places to see the light of Christ and recognize his will for us and our world. May the temple of God we are also never grow dark, but a place for God to dwell.

Simeon holds the Child in his arms; Anna proclaims him to all. Mary, his mother, hears the prophecy that a sword will pierce her heart as she shares the life, death and resurrection of this Child. A beautiful example for us.

This feast is an ancient feast celebrated by Christian Churches of the east and west. It calls for a procession after blessing candles. Early in the 5th century, Christians in Jerusalem went in procession this day from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, symbolically accompanying the Child, Mary and Joseph to the Temple of God, carrying candles to light their way. 

When the feast was celebrated in Rome, the procession took place from the church of St. Simeon in the Roman forum to the church of St. Mary Major on the Esquiline Hill, the church where many early feasts of Mary found a home. 

One thing that happens to us all–more so as we get older–is we forget. We forget where we put things, what we’re supposed to do –even what day it is. We are forgetful people.

There are many degrees of forgetfulness. There’s a natural forgetfulness, but also there’s a spiritual forgetfulness.

They tell a story about one of the early desert saints– John the Short. John had a good spiritual guide to whom he went for advice; he listened carefully to everything he was told, but then as soon as he went out the front door he forgot everything that was said. It happened again and again. Finally, John gave up and stopped going.

One day his spiritual guide met him and asked where he’d been. John said it’s no use. “I don’t remember what you tell me.”

His guide told him to come into his house and he took him into the room where they prayed. There was one candle lit in the room, but all around were other candles unlit. “Take the light from the one candle and light all the others,” he tells John. Soon the room was filled with light. “Now take a look at the candle that lit all the rest; is it’s light in any way diminished because it keeps giving its light away?”

“No, it isn’t, and neither am I by giving light to you again and again. That’s what we all have to do here in the desert: to remind each other, because we forget.

That’s what God does for all of us. He reminds us, again and again. “Remember the deeds of the Lord,” the psalms say. How often we hear that word “remember.” How many times does God repeat. “Throw your cares on the Lord, and he will support you.” How many times do we hear words like that. How many times does Jesus take a child and put him in our midst and remind us to be children? How many times does he say “Do this in memory of me.”

Some people say prayers are only routine. They’re not. We say them because we forget. We’re “forgetful listeners.”

For this week’s homily please watch the video below.