A Forfeited Reward

Introduction

A caveat aside

The doors of the early Church “were locked out of fear of the Jews,” The Latin reads “propter metum Iudaeorum.”  (Jn 20: 19, 26).  I have an old Latin concordance of the Bible printed on parchment in Venice in 1618. I consult it constantly. Recently I found that the expression propter metum Iudaeorum (out of fear of the Jews) is used three times in the whole Bible, and only in the gospel of St. John. First in chapter 7, verse 19. There Jesus goes secretly to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Tents--a harvest feast. The context says that some liked Jesus very much and others hated him, but no one spoke openly about him propter metum Iudaeorum (out of fear of the Jews). The expression is used a second time in chapter 19, verse 38. Jesus has just been crucified, and his body is still hanging on the cross. Along comes Joseph of Arimathea who asks Pilate for permission to take the body down and bury it. Scripture says Joseph was a secret follower of Jesus propter metum Iudaeorum (out of fear of the Jews). And then the expression is used a third time in today’s gospel, chapter 20, verse 19: “On the evening of the first day of the week, when the doors were locked where the disciples were gathered propter metum Iudaeorum (out of fear of the Jews), Jesus came and stood in their midst and wished them peace.”

 

We still linger in the hype of Mel Gibson’s film The Passion of the Christ, and we remember the charge of anti-Semitism (bias against Jews) that some brought against it. The charge, right or wrong, reminds us of the need to be sensitive when we read the scriptures in the Sunday assembly. If we read “out of fear of the Jews” indiscriminately and insensitively, we feed the roots of anti-Semitism, especially in those who are looking for scapegoats.

 

I also have a huge volume which presents eight different English translations of the New Testament from the original Greek. They’re placed side by side for comparing. Sometimes I read all eight translations of a particular scripture passage in order to get the feel of what it’s trying to say.  Six of the eight translations of today’s text were not sensitive. Like our own translation this morning, they blankly read “the doors were locked out of fear of the Jews.” Only two of the eight were sensitive. They read, “the doors were locked out of fear of the Jewish authorities.”  Two translators thought that was the truth of the matter and translated accordingly.

 

It’s a big deal because terrible mischief lurks in the careless reading of our Christian scriptures in the Sunday assembly. It eventually had our church praying in the prayers of the faithful of the Good Friday services Oremus pro perfidis Iudaeis (Let us pray for the treacherous Jews). For a good ten years as a young priest, I prayed every Good Friday for the “treacherous Jews.” Then along came Good Pope John XXII, and he  struck that prayer out of the liturgy and replaced it with, “Let us pray for the Jewish people, the first to hear the word of God, that they may continue to grow in the love of his name and in faithfulness to his covenant.” It’s a big deal because the careless reading of our scriptures eventually contributed to stoking up crematories of the Holocaust.  It‘s a big deal because if one of you brought a Jewish friend along to Mass this morning, and that friend heard “the doors were locked out of fear of the Jews” that guest wouldn’t feel very welcome.

 

The doors of Trent locked out of fear

This is a kind of aside this morning before getting on with the message the Holy Spirit wants us to hear. The gospel says the doors of the early church, behind which the disciples were gathered in an upper room, were locked out of fear. That’s the age-old story of all church history—doors locked out of fear.

 

Fear locked the doors of the church at the Council of Trent (1545-1563). Summoned to deal with the threat of the Protestant Reformation, Trent wrote us a theology of fear. (That’s really not a criticism at all. That’s simply the age-old story of action and reaction.) The Council’s theology of fear locked the church up in prisons of certainty, and made it dead-sure of many matters for four hundred years. Then on October 11, 1962, Vatican II burst upon us. At the end of the day, the deepest pain rising out of the Council for many Catholics was the fact that our dead-sureness about many matters had been taken away, and we were invited to journey forth like pilgrims along unknown and winding paths. Our Linus blanket had been taken away, and we were invited to a more mature kind of faith that has no fear to doubt and ask questions.

 

The doors of Lake Jackson church locked out of fear

This past winter in Texas, I started to help out in a church in Lake Jackson—a forty mile trek from my place in Alvin. Standing in the church entrance was a huge fierce statue of St. Michael, the Archangel (patron of the church), with sword in hand protecting the door of the church against evil ones. The first Sunday there the theme was discipleship—the following of Jesus.  In the homily (http://my.execpc.com/~alexis/1Lakejackson.htm) I mentioned Brokeback Mountain--a movie about two gay cowboys in Wyoming in the 1960s which won three Oscars. When it was released a staunch voice of protest rose up from the religious right. A theatre in Salt Lake City swiftly cancelled it. The point of my mentioning the movie was that the same keen sense of morality which pursued Brokeback Mountain with such alacrity and speed should have pursued with even greater alacrity and speed the injustice which for centuries forced black folk to sit in the back of the bus.

 

When I returned the next week the Monsignor said, “Some of the people were unhappy. For one thing, it was too long.” (I thought to myself: Friends up in Milwaukee know that too.)  Secondly he said, “You mentioned Brokeback Mountain. “ That seemed to be the straw that started to break the camel’s back. I returned the next Sunday. The theme was Jesus making the apostles fishers of men (http://my.execpc.com/~alexis/2Lakej.htm). When I suggested solving the problem of the priest shortage by ordaining married men, and even women as fishers of men, that was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I was basically fired. The doors of the church at Lake Jackson were locked out of a fear that I find hard to name.

 

The doors of the Cathedral locked out of fear

Just about the same time, the doors of the Church of Milwaukee were locked out of fear of Thomas J. Gumbleton, Auxiliary Bishop of Detroit.  He was scheduled to give a lecture on April 8 in the atrium attached to the Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist just a few blocks up from us here at Old St. Mary’s. The lecture was being sponsored by Call to Action-–a lay movement labeled by some in authority as dissident—as out of harmony with official teaching. On March 17, Fr. Carl Last, rector of the Cathedral, notified Call to Action that the scheduled lecture could not be held on Cathedral premises.  Neither Fr. Last nor Archbishop Dolan, (who had gone off to Rome for a trip with family members) was available for comment. Call to Action had to go in search of a church whose doors were open. It found that church at All Saints Catholic Church, 4051 N. 25 Street.

 

Who is this Roman Catholic Bishop Gumbleton guy against whom the doors of the Cathedral were locked out of fear?  He’s a guy with a long history of social justice activism.  He is the founding president of Pax Christi USA, the U.S. branch of the international Catholic peace movement. In 1983 he helped draft a landmark pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops, entitled The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response. From 1976-1984, he was president of Bread for the World, an interfaith organization that fights world hunger.

 

Who is this Gumbleton guy against whom the doors of the Cathedral were locked out of fear?  He’s the one who wrote a letter to America magazine, November 20, 1963, saying, "I can vouch for the fact that very many bishops share the same conviction (that not every contraceptive act is intrinsically evil). However, sadly enough, fewer and fewer are willing to say this publicly. There is no doubt in my mind that so few are willing to voice their opinion on contraception out loud because they are familiar with the criteria used in developing a profile for any priest who is to be recommended to the Holy See to be named a bishop.”

 

Who is this Gumbleton guy against whom the doors of the Cathedral were locked out of fear?  While Pope John Paul II spoke definitively against women's ordination, Bishop Gumbleton said, “Priestesses will inevitably come. Already, female parochial administrators are proving their competency and laying the groundwork for the ordination of women.” In one of his homilies he asks, "Aren't we depriving ourselves of real genuine leadership in our church because we don't give women a place of leadership? Think how different it would have been in the current [pedophilia] crisis in our church if there had been some women in leadership positions who had children who had been abused. Do you think the abusers would be moved from one place to another? No, certainly not."

 

Who is this Gumbleton guy against whom the doors of the Cathedral were locked out of fear?  Gumbleton has a brother, Dan, who is gay, got married and has four children. At first he found that very hard to take, and so did his mother. One day she took her bishop son off to the side and asked whether her son and his brother was going to hell. It’s no small wonder that in 1997 Gumbleton would initiate and co-author a pastoral letter of the US Catholic bishops entitled Always Our Children (http://www.usao.edu/~facshaferi/catholic/always.htm). It is a pastoral message to the parents of homosexual children with suggestions for pastoral ministers. In a presentation Gumbleton gave on May 25, 2002, in Lexington, MA., he said, “We must further the steps we took in our pastoral letter Always Our Children to overcome the homophobia within our culture and within the Church. We must be a truly welcoming community for homosexual people. …  Always Our Children pointed out that homosexuals are a gift to the Church, and we should not marginalize them and push them aside.”

 

Who is this Gumbleton guy? He is not a fly by night. He is a prophet. Prophets are people who have the courage to say what’s politically incorrect, the courage to say what people don’t want to hear, the courage to say even what will get them demoted or have their resignation received by Rome with e-mail speed. What Bishop Gumbleton says won’t make him a cardinal but it does make him a prophet. Against this prophet the Cathedral locked the doors of its atrium out of a fear which I find hard to name. And to this prophet with such a fearful message the Catholic Church of All Saints, 4051 N. 25 Street, opened its doors.

 

 

Conclusion

A reward forfeited

It takes courage for Gumbleton and for you and me to be a prophet--to say what’s politically incorrect, to say what people don’t want to hear, to say what will get you demoted.  It also takes courage for All Saints Catholic Church and for you and me to give welcome to a prophet—to receive the one God sends to tell us something we don’t want to hear but need to hear.

 

A guest room for prophets

In the Second Book of Kings, when the prophet Elijah was taken up into heaven his cloak fell upon the prophet Elisha. Elisha would frequently visit the city of Shunem. There the doors of the house of a rich lady and her husband were always opened to him, and the couple always gave him welcome. They even built a little guest room on their roof just for him and furnished it with a bed, table, chair, and lamp. Feeling deeply indebted for always being so well-received, the prophet wanted to reward them. So when he heard that the couple was childless, he summoned the woman and said to her, “By this time next year you will be holding a son in your arms.” As Elisha had promised, at about that time the following year she gave birth to a baby boy (2 Kg: 8-17).

 

All Saints gave welcome to Gumbleton with a bed, table, chair and lamp and some very powerful gospel singing. And since Jesus himself promises "Whoever gives welcome to a prophet in my name shall receive the reward of a prophet" (Mt 10:41), All Saints Catholic Church received the reward forfeited by the Cathedral.