Category: Scripture

7 min read

Scripture

Changing Names

Eddie O'Neill

February 11, 2020 10:30 am February 11, 2020

7 min read

1783 views

Comments Off

7 min read

For the average student of the Bible, who starts his or her study ‘“in the beginning” with the book of Genesis, it doesn’t take long to realize that names play…

For the average student of the Bible, who starts his or her study ‘“in the beginning” with the book of Genesis, it doesn’t take long to realize that names play a significant role throughout sacred Scripture.

They reveal a certain characteristic, or mark an event, in the lives of people and the history of places. Names are sometimes changed as well. In fact, it only takes 17 chapters into Genesis before the great patriarch of Israel, Abram, becomes Abraham.

Why is that? Why does God change people’s names?

The short answer to that question is that a name change signifies a new call in life. It is symbolic of a new identity.

From Abram to Abraham

In the case of Abram, whom God would make Abraham, the change in names reflected a new status. At age 75, Abram is called by the Lord to go forth from his native land and begin a new nation (see Gn 12). He is told that he will receive a plot of land as far as his eyes can see and given descendents as numerous as the dust of the earth (Gn 13:15-16).

He was attentive to the Lord’s directives throughout his journey in the land of Canaan. When Abram is the age of 99, the Lord calls him and says, “no longer shall you be called Abram; your name shall be Abraham, for I am making you the father of a host of nations” (Gn 17:5).

In Hebrew, the name Abram means “exulted father,” while Abraham means “father of a multitude.” The name change became a benediction of sorts. God memorialized Abraham’s obedience and faithfulness and blessed him for the road ahead. As the saying goes, behind every great man is a strong woman. Abraham had Sarai. God changed her name to Sarah, or “mother of multitudes,” and thus a new calling. “God further said to Abraham: ‘As for your wife Sarai, do not call her Sarai; her name shall be Sarah. I will bless her, and I will give you a son by her. Him also will I bless; he shall give rise to nations, and rulers of peoples shall issue from him’ ” (Gn 17:15-16).

God appointed a royal couple in Abraham and Sarah. The patriarch now has a matriarch, and she will give birth to a noble son, Isaac, who will continue to bear witness to the Old Covenant.

Also in the Old Testament is the story of Jacob, who becomes Israel. Jacob means “deceitful one” (literally, “leg-puller”), and the son of Rebekah lived up to his name sake. His older twin brother, Esau, points this out when he explains that Jacob took away his birthright and “now he has taken away my blessing” (Gn 27:36). However, God turned the deceitful Jacob into the “prince of God” as he is given the new name Israel just five chapters later. God says to him, “You shall no longer be spoken of as Jacob, but as Israel” (Gn 32:28). Under his new name, he is called to be the leader of the 12 tribes of Israel and becomes a key Old Testament patriarch.

In with the New

In the New Testament, two notable name changes are those of Peter and Paul. Peter is the second-most mentioned name in the New Testament after Jesus. However, he wasn’t born Peter. His birth name was Simon son of Jonah (see Mt 16:17). He and his brother Andrew grew up together fishing on the Sea of Galilee. They were among the first disciples chosen by Our Lord.

“Jesus looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You will be called Kephas’ (which is translated Peter)” (Jn 1:42).

Why did the Lord call this man “Rock?” Because of the mission he was about to receive. The Lord said to him, “And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it’” (Mt 16:18). The fisherman from Bethsaida had become the rock, or the building stone, of the Church. God had chosen him with a new mission. He was now a fisher of men. His new name gave him his identity as the first pope and leader of the Church.

A name change took place as well to Saul, who became Paul. However, it wasn’t God who changed this Jewish man’s name. Not unlike his contemporaries of the time, it is believed that Saul, a Hebrew living under Roman rule, would have acquired more than one name. The story of Paul’s conversion is narrated three times in the Acts of the Apostles. However, in none of these stories is God mentioned as the one changing Saul’s name. On the contrary, it is Jesus who says, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4). His new name is mentioned briefly in Acts 13:9: “But Saul, also known as Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked intently at him.” While the name change from Saul to Paul doesn’t exactly fit the same mold of Abraham and the others, it can be reasoned that it signified his new identity as the Apostle to the Gentiles.

Devotion to the Holy Name

Reverence to the Holy Name of Jesus began in the early Church. The apostles and the first disciples were the first to cultivate devotion to the sacred name of Jesus.

St. Paul, in his Letter to the Colossians, writes, “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (3:17).

During the time of the Council of Lyons in 1274, Pope Gregory X issued a call to the universal Church to take up this devotion to the Holy Name. Soon after, the Dominicans took up the Church’s pleas and began preaching on the virtues of the Holy Name.

Why Do Religious Change Their Names?

In generations past, it was the norm that religious nuns and, at times, orders of priests or brothers ran Catholic grade schools. The presence of these dedicated women was regularly recognizable through their distinct religious habits, and quite often the nuns carried unique names.

For any third- or fourth-grader who had Sister Mary of the Cross as his or her teacher or Sister John the Baptist in the classroom across the hall, the question might have arisen of where did she get that name from? Didn’t her parents know she was a girl? Why did they name her John the Baptist?

The answer lies in the fact that the taking of a new name symbolizes the entering of a new state in life. Think of marriage. When a woman marries, she normally drops her maiden name and takes on the name of her husband. She is no longer a maiden, but rather is now a married woman.

While this tradition was most prevalent among female orders, it was not un-common for male religious, particularly monastic orders of men, to change their names when they professed vows or were ordained.

Customs varied on what a newly professed name could be. Sometimes the women were allowed to suggest a new name. In other instances, sisters were assigned a name. In either case the ultimate decision was in the hands of the mother superior

Comments Off

5 min read

Scripture

Lectio Divina: Reading Scripture

Jim Manney

February 10, 2020 7:08 am February 10, 2020

5 min read

2399 views

Comments Off

5 min read

How do we allow the Scripture, in all its awesome power, to draw us closer to God? One important spiritual discipline that can help us in this regard is called…

How do we allow the Scripture, in all its awesome power, to draw us closer to God?

One important spiritual discipline that can help us in this regard is called lectio divina, which is Latin for “sacred reading.” It’s one of the oldest forms of Christian prayer, and the bishops at the synod repeatedly recommended that Catholics discover its power to make the Bible come alive.

From the very beginning, the early Christians imitated the Jewish model of using Scripture (the Old Testament) as a gateway into prayer. Once the New Testament books were written, Christians approached these sacred texts in the same way.

They understood that God was the author of Scripture, and that He was personally present in the words of Scripture. They read the words in a way that connected them to God. They learned how to read the Word of God with their hearts as well as their minds.

The Fathers of the Church read Scripture this way. St. Jerome, who translated the Bible from Hebrew and Greek into Latin, was an early advocate of “sacred reading.” Sts. Augustine, Basil and Benedict all made ample use of it.

Eventually, the practice became a common form of prayer in monastic communities in Europe. Lectio divina is still closely associated with monasteries, but in recent decades many Christians who lead active lives in the world have learned to pray this way as well.

Four Stages

The essence of lectio divina is reading the words of Scripture with one’s “heart,” guided by the Holy Spirit. It’s a flexible method and cannot be reduced to a technique. But those who are most skilled in it agree that lectio divina usually involves four stages.

Nearly a thousand years ago, a monk named Guigo de Castro described them in a letter to a fellow monk. Guigo’s outline is still the standard description of this prayer practice.

The scriptural text for lectio divina is usually chosen in advance. Typically, it is a short text, often a single verse containing the words of Jesus or a brief description of his actions.

The first step is lectio — reading. We read for understanding. What is the context of the verse? What did the author mean to convey to the people he was addressing? The question to ask in lectio: “What does the text say?”

The second stage is meditatio — meditation. We ruminate on the verse. We memorize it. We say it over and over again slowly and carefully. What do the words mean to me? How do they interact with our thoughts and memories? The question to ask in meditation: “What does the text say to me?”

The third stage is oratio — prayer. Our hearts have been stirred by meditating on the verse. God has spoken to us through the words. Now, what response do we make? The question asked in oratio: “What do we say to God in response to this text?”

The final stage is contemplatio — contemplation. Our prayer moves beyond words and beyond thought. We simply rest in God. We let His love transform us. The question asked in contemplation:”What is God saying to us?”

Lectio divina does not always unfold in an ordered progression of stages. Often we will oscillate between times of acting and times of receiving. We are “busy” reading, thinking, speaking. Then we quietly listen and receive what God has for us.

Nevertheless, the natural movement of lectio divina is toward ever-greater simplicity. It begins with close scrutiny of the words of Scripture. It ends with wordless enjoyment of God.

Gradually the words of Scripture dissolve and the Word of God is revealed before the eyes of our heart. Reading the sacred words fosters a dialogue with God. It’s a dialogue that concludes with an act of consecration, whereby we offer ourselves to God.

New Habits Needed

If we are to pray lectio divina successfully, we need to learn some new habits. First of all, we must slow down. Sacred reading takes time. Those who consistently pray this way often recommend that we set aside at least an hour in a quiet place for it. It’s not exactly an ideal way to pray on the bus during your daily commute (though this is just a guideline, not a rule).

We also need to learn to read differently. We’re accustomed to reading texts in order to understand the information they convey. It’s a cognitive process, an act of the intellect.

The goal of “sacred reading,” however, is to seek God. It’s an exercise of the heart and a process that’s led by the Holy Spirit. As one writer on lectio divina put it, “The full process of ‘reading’ could take 15 minutes or be spread over 15 years.”

Interest in lectio divina has surged in recent years. Pope Benedict XVI recommended it as a way for us to hear God and to respond to Him “with openness of heart.” If we learn to pray this way, the Pope has said, “this practice will bring to the Church — I am convinced of it — a new spiritual springtime.”

Jim Manney writes from Michigan.

Comments Off

8 min read

Scripture

Importance of Jesus’ Parables

Dr. Peter Brown

February 6, 2020 10:05 am February 6, 2020

8 min read

4150 views

Comments Off

8 min read

Parables are perhaps the best-known aspect of the Lord’s teaching in the New Testament, but in this He accommodated himself to patterns of teaching already in use at the time….

Parables are perhaps the best-known aspect of the Lord’s teaching in the New Testament, but in this He accommodated himself to patterns of teaching already in use at the time.

In the Old Testament, God commanded Ezekiel to teach Jewish exiles in this manner (see Ez 17:3-21; 19:1-14). Here the prophet was employing the Hebrew genre mashal. The genre appears in older settings (Jdg 9:7-15), but probably the best known is the mashal of the ewe lamb that the prophet Nathan used to convict David of his murder of Uriah the Hittite (2 Sm 12:1-4).

What is a mashal? A mashal is usually translated as “riddle,” but really it is less a brainteaser than an allegory told with different levels of meaning, with each element corresponding to a real life referent — here, the “rich man” is David, the “poor man” Uriah and the “ewe lamb” Bathsheba.

The Good Shepherd. Renata Sedmakova / Shutterstock.com

Parables can be very short, proverbial and aphoristic. Luke 5:36 and 6:39, for instance, are simply pithy, memorable sayings. In fact, in Luke 4:23, what the Revised Standard Version Bible and New American Bible translates as “proverb” is parabole in the Greek.

More common, however, are the extended parables that involve several different aspects of comparison — for example, Matthew 7:24-27 and the parable of the two houses, one built on sand and the other on rock. The Lord — unlike his hypocritical opponents — actually puts into effect His own advice, choosing a rock named Peter on whom to build His house the Church (see Mt 16:16-18).

The parables of Jesus in Matthew highlight theological themes found only in the first Gospel. The well-known parable of the wheat and the weeds (see Mt 13:24-30) and the more concise parable of the fishnet (Mt 13:47-50), both serve to underscore the Church as a mixed body consisting of both saints and sinners whom God will providentially leave in place until the time of the great eschatological separation.

Even parables common to more than one Gospel are recorded differently by each of the Evangelists. Some, like the parable of the wicked tenants are understood by friend and foe (see Mt 21:45; Mk 12:12; Lk 20:19). But the misunderstanding motif figures enormously in Mark’s version of the parable of the sower (4:1-20). Most homilists will take the view that the parable concerns our receptivity to the Word of God. But I am afraid this is a case in which the homilists have allowed the more familiar versions of the story in Matthew and Luke to color their reading. In the context of Mark, thus far there has been a great deal of opposition to Jesus and very little receptivity. Even the disciples of Jesus who have followed Him do not understand Him and demonstrate fear and unbelief (Mk 4:12-14; 4:40; 6:50-52; 7:17-18; 8:17-21). They have received the mystery of the Kingdom all right, but apparently not the knowledge and understanding that must come with it (compare Mk 4:11 and Mt 13:11).

Jesus’ Approach

The Gospel of Mark’s ironic introduction to parables begins in 4:10. Jesus is asked why He teaches in parables. What is striking is that He does not respond the way we imagine that He should, with something like, “Parables are my way to use earthly similitudes to convey heavenly realities because such analogies are the only things earthly human beings can understand.” Astonishingly, Jesus himself explains that parables are not to teach anyone anything at all, but rather to confound and confuse and to separate the insiders of Jesus from the outsiders for whom parables will be opaque (see 4:11-12).

The Laborers in the Vineyard. Shutterstock

But if this is the case, why should the disciples of Jesus have needed an explanation of the parable at all? “Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand any of the parables?” (Mk 4:13). In the context of Mark, the disciples are little more secure than the enemies of Jesus who are confounded by his message. How often in real life have we seen the irony of supposed Church insiders not getting the message at all?

What is going on here is that our understanding of parables is being challenged. In this instance, it is not really about our response at all, or, more precisely, it is about the fact that in spite of the opposition of enemies of the Kingdom and in spite of the moral and intellectual failings of the Kingdom’s putative friends, the Kingdom will succeed immensely in the end. Even though most of the seeds sown by God seem to be failing, the ones that do take root will bear abundant fruit. In other words, the parable is, first, Jesus’ explanation of why the apparent failure of His ministry is, in fact, part of God’s plan — much as Isaiah’s original mission was to harden hearts for a time (see Is 6:9-13). Second, the apparent failure of the kingdom proclamation will be the seeds of its success. We could even say that not only is the parable of the sower a parable about the kingdom proclamation of Jesus, but it is a parable about parables.

The Prodigal Son

The parable of the sower shows us that we should be a little more careful about naming parables than we usually are. This parable could have been called the parables of the seeds or the parable of the soils, and each name would subtly affect our interpretation. But nowhere is the name we impart to the parable more powerful to affect our construal of it than in the parable of the prodigal son (see Lk 15:11-32).

Unlike the aphoristic parables or even the more extended ones such as the mustard seed (see Mk 4:30-32), this one has a complete story line and most of us know its basic outline. A son sells all his goods and runs away from the family, squandering his precious inheritance in the process. But then, realizing the self-imposed squalor of his condition, he repents, and his overjoyed father runs halfway down the road to meet him. The father gives him a great celebratory banquet, delighting that his lost son has now been found. From the classic spiritual “Amazing Grace” to countless homilies, this parable of repentance has piqued the religious imagination of Christians of all stripes down through the centuries.

But perhaps the repentance and joyous acceptance of the Father is not the parable’s most important theme. Often left out entirely from reflection is the anger of the elder brother, who thinks he has received nothing for his years of fidelity while his lesser, disobedient sibling is welcomed back to the family on an equal basis. The parable of the prodigal son, in fact, could be more aptly named the parable of the elder brother. Read in its entirety, the parable of the prodigal son seems like an expansive retelling of Matthew’s parable of the two sons (see Mt 21:28-32). In both cases the parables are Jesus’ thinly veiled commentaries on the state of affairs in the Church with the younger brother as a stand-in for the wayward Gentiles — welcomed back to the people of God after centuries of dissolution and rebellion — and the elder brother representing Jewish Christians, upset that their long-held privileged position in the family is being compromised.

But whatever we call it, Luke’s parable of the elder brother is among the most famous in the Jesus tradition. Indeed, as the state of Idaho’s motto is “Famous Potatoes,” Luke’s Gospel’s motto should be “Famous Parables.” It is only Luke who contains the well-known parables of the accursed fig tree (see 13:6-9), the rich man and Lazarus (16:19-31) and real sleepers like the parable of the widow and the unjust judge (18:1-8). By far the most famous of the special Lucan parables is that of the good Samaritan.

The Good Samaritan

The Good Samaritan. Renata Sedmakova / Shutterstock.com

On a surface level, the message of this one is easy to grasp — the true love of neighbor will be shown by the one who actually extends mercy (in this case corporal mercy) — and not necessarily by the professional religious. But a fuller understanding of the good Samaritan must include the degree to which the parable is profoundly subversive of the religious assumptions of Jews living in Palestine for whom a “good Samaritan” was a contradiction in terms and actually rather scandalous.

But whether they scandalize or challenge us, motivate or frighten us, we encounter the heart of Our Lord’s teaching in the parables and thus the mind of the Lord himself. The style of the teaching wasn’t unique, but the Divine Person whom we encounter is!

Dr. Peter Brown earned his doctorate in Scripture from The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. He serves as academic dean of the Catholic Distance University.

Comments Off

1 min read

Scripture

How can you teach children with abusive parents to honor their fathers and mothers?

Msgr. M. Francis Mannion

January 29, 2020 7:10 am January 29, 2020

1 min read

1281 views

Comments Off

1 min read

The Fourth Commandment — in the context of the other commandments and, indeed, the whole Bible and the Catholic moral tradition — implies that to be honored parents must first…

The Fourth Commandment — in the context of the other commandments and, indeed, the whole Bible and the Catholic moral tradition — implies that to be honored parents must first of all be honorable and upstanding. There is nothing that states or implies that children must yield to and honor the behavior of parents who act dishonorably. Teachers and catechists must always make that point clear in an age-appropriate way.

Second, I would say that with the vastly improved identification and procedural systems in Church and society regarding child abuse, it is less likely that children will be misled by the Fourth Commandment. Balance, subtlety and wisdom in catechesis and in the general nurturing of children are the keys to avoiding problems here.

Comments Off

1 min read

Scripture

What Did Adam and Eve Know?

Father Reginald Martin

January 29, 2020 7:00 am January 29, 2020

1 min read

1323 views

Comments Off

1 min read

When it considers our first parents and their original sin, the Catechism of the Catholic Church observes: “A spiritual creature, man can live this friendship [with God] only in free…

When it considers our first parents and their original sin, the Catechism of the Catholic Church observes: “A spiritual creature, man can live this friendship [with God] only in free submission to God. The prohibition against eating ‘of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil’ spells this out: ‘for in the day that you eat of it, you shall die’” (No. 396). The tree, the Catechism teaches, represents the limits human creatures must be prepared to embrace. We depend upon God; our freedom is subject to God’s law.

God’s command not to eat from that tree in the Garden could not have been clearer; nor could the threatened consequences. That much, at least, Adam and Eve must have known. Likewise, they must have understood they were risking God’s friendship by their disobedience. However, we may assume they were unaware of the consequences for future generations and the results that have been fully explained only by later theologians.

Comments Off

9 min read

Scripture

Mercy In The Bible

Dr. Peter Brown

January 22, 2020 8:32 am January 22, 2020

9 min read

2312 views

Comments Off

9 min read

What does it mean to say that Yahweh, the God of the Bible, is a merciful God? A good place to start in unpacking the idea is the Hebrew term chesed. Chesed (pronounced…

What does it mean to say that Yahweh, the God of the Bible, is a merciful God?

A good place to start in unpacking the idea is the Hebrew term chesed. Chesed (pronounced with a guttural sounding ch) is one of those delightfully untranslatable terms one finds in the Bible. It has the idea of “the giving of a break” but means much more than that. It combines the notions of “kindness,” “faithfulness,” “truth,” “persistent and steadfast loyalty” and, most of all, “love.”

We see it frequently in the context of the “unfailing love” God shows for Israel in the context of the covenant.

Though untranslatable, chesed captures an important dimension of divine mercy: steadfast and true kindness based on the covenant. Chesed is a wonderful word, but one that still fails to capture the fullness of mercy. Its relational dimensions make it too powerful to convey the idea of the seemingly random act of kindness toward someone you don’t really know well or who doesn’t deserve it. For that we need the term rachamim (again with the guttural ch sound). This one has a near English equivalent: “pity” or “compassion” — something akin to the sentiment that causes you to fall for the three-legged puppy who is neither cute nor potty-trained, but whose attraction is precisely that no one else wants him. In some cases rachamim even extends to family members.

Joseph is overcome with it in dealing with his brothers with whom by all rights he should have been angry (see Gn 43:30). God was furious with Israel, too, after the creation of the golden calf. Yet in one of the Bible’s most famous declarations of mercy, God turns away from his anger declaring in his sovereignty, “I who grant mercy [rachamim] to whom I will” (Ex 33:19).

The Greek New Testament unsurprisingly talks a great deal about “mercy,” too — using different language, of course. The most common term is eleeos, made famous in the Kyrie Eleison rite at Mass right before the Gloria where Catholics say, “Lord, have mercy.” Eleeos truly does mean something very close to what English speakers mean by “mercy,” combining the Hebrew ideas of chesed and raham. It is precisely because he is the “Son of David” with all that implies in terms of God’s covenant that Jesus is asked to take pity on blind Bartimaeus (see Mk 10:47-48; Mt 9:27; 20:30-31; Lk 18:38-39).

What the New Testament adds to “mercy” is splankna, another term difficult to capture perfectly in English, which suggests warm feelings from the deepest innards of the human person. The “deepest innards” is often translated “heart,” although splanknonpoints anatomically to the “guts” below the rib cage. Confusion on this point led to the Douay Rheims’ famous translation of Philemon 1:7 as “the bowels of the saints have been refreshed” when the idea is that the innermost being of the people of God was being renewed. When it comes to God, splankna is a “tenderizer” seasoning added to God’s mercy. The famous Canticle of Zechariah’s “tender mercy of our God” (Lk 1:78) combines the terms splankna and eleeos together.

So now with a little philology under our belt, we are now in a position to do a little biblical theology. We know roughly what God’s mercy is, but who gets it and how?

One central idea advanced by Our Lord is the connection of divine mercy for people with people’s mercy for one another.

This is the message of the parable of the debtor (see Mt 18:21-35) as well as the Lord’s Prayer — “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors” (Mt 6:12). Our reception of divine mercy is wholly contingent on our ability to show mercy to others. This is not only because of the social dimension of chesed; by making God’s forgiveness contingent on our forgiveness we become a channel of divine mercy, which flows through us to others.

Another crucial aspect to the flow of mercy is based on the humanity of Jesus Christ. His humanity enables him to become our High Priest who is able to identify with our fleshly weaknesses, since he took on frail humanity himself, yet without sin. It is through the humanity of Jesus that we can approach the throne of grace confidently and receive mercy (see Heb 4:14-16).

But let’s not fall into the trap that mercy and forgiveness is an attribute of the New Testament while the God of the Old Testament remains a deity of wrath and judgment. Even a cursory knowledge of the Bible reveals that there are many times when mercy is shown in the Old Testament and many times when divine wrath and judgment are threatened in the New.

Old Testament Prophets

And the Year of Mercy, emphasized the scope of mercy, particularly for those on the margins or the periphery. This is a question actually of great salience for the Old Testament writers in terms of avoiding wrath or receiving mercy, but also in defining the boundaries to which mercy could extend. Does it extend to Israel alone even if Israel is just as culpable as the other nations? Or can the nations receive it, too? And in no place were these very difficult questions more discussed than in the Book of the Twelve, aka the twelve minor prophets from Hosea through Malachi.

The Book of Joel is all about God’s judgment and who can avoid it when it seems that it is in store for everyone. The prophet says in Joel 2:14, “Perhaps he [Yahweh] will again relent and leave a blessing.”

This is key to the biblical idea of mercy — maybe we will get it, but God certainly doesn’t owe it to us. Therefore, we have no right to presume it. On the other hand, if we repent and show our repentance with prayer and fasting, maybe there is hope (see Jl 2:15-18).

In fact, God is merciful (see Jl 2:18-27) and will pour out his Spirit upon all flesh in advance of the judgment (3:1). Paradoxically, “all flesh” do not escape judgment. The nations will be destroyed as God’s people will be exalted (Chapter 4), because they did not call on the name of the Lord (3:5) and accept his mercy. Joel’s view is a somewhat hopeful picture that God’s wrath on the Day of the Lord can be escaped by the few who have the Spirit.

But Amos’ take on judgment is strikingly different. He makes it crystal clear that the various judgments against the nations are fixed; Yahweh, in fact, will not repent (“revoke the punishment” is the translation in the Revised Standard Version; see 1:3,6,9,11,13; 2:1,4,6). The punishments are coming and there is nothing that the nations, or Judah and Israel, can do to avoid them.

And those who have read Joel and actually want the Day of the Lord (see Jl 2:1-2) are in for a rude awakening (Am 5:17). For Amos it will be darkness and not light, with no hope — none at all.

Amos’ message is almost wholly negative. Jonah, however, turns Amos’ message on its head. Due to the reluctant prophet’s preaching, the Gentile king of Nineveh dares to perceive the same prospect of mercy for his people that Joel had for Judah (see Jon 3:9).

And he received it! God did what Amos said he would not do — he “repented” of the judgment he would inflict (see Jon 3:10). The same God, “slow to anger” in his dealings with his covenant people (Ex 34:6), shows himself “slow to anger” with a wicked Gentile nation as well (Jon 4:2).

On the other hand, Nahum rejoiced with sadistic glee that despite its slowness, God’s judgment eventually did fall upon Nineveh after all (see Na 1:3a). But the pendulum swings back again with Habakkuk. Yes, God may punish the Assyrians, but his chosen instrument for doing so is Babylon, and they are about to come down to destroy God’s people in Judah as well (Hb 1:5-6).

Zechariah finds a way for the nations to benefit from God’s coming kingdom after all — the reign which is the main subject of his book (see Zec 14:9). The nations that fight against God will be vanquished, of course (Zec 14:1-4), yet, paradoxically, the portions of the nations who survive the war and become loyal to the true worship of God will experience divine blessing (14:16-21).

On the other side of the Cross, Paul, in Romans 9-11, wonders how it can be that God is showing so much mercy to mostly Gentile Christians while non-Christian Jews seem to have lost the mercy they once possessed. Will God once again withdraw the mercy shown to Gentiles and return it to the Jews? It is hard to say!

Mercy is deeply paradoxical.

Mercy will fall next where we least expect it. God will exalt His people and punish His enemies both in history and at the end of history, but He has enemies both inside and outside the visible boundaries of Israel/Church, and even His people within Israel/Church need purification and have done things worthy of divine chastisement, as have others outside Israel/Church who stand nonetheless to benefit from the purification and be restored to God’s friendship afterward.

Mercy is understandable only against the background of sin and imminent judgment from which no one is exempt. Everyone must repent and show mercy to others, and the greatest hope for mercy is in the humanity of Jesus Christ.

Repentance does not guarantee that one will avoid suffering and chastisement, but it is the constant condition necessary to receive God’s mercy that He stands forever prepared to offer to everyone.

Dr. Peter Brown is the Academic Dean for Catholic Distance University.

Comments Off

First Name *

Last Name *

Email Address *