The Vanishing Man

In spite of many obstacles, my brother is getting married in a few short days.  As such, he has been moving his things to the house where he and his fiancé will live.  It feels like my brother has always been around.  He is seven years older than me, and I can almost count on one hand the number of years during my lifetime that we have not lived in the same house.

We weren’t what I would call “close” when we were growing up.  Seven years is a BIG difference when you are a kid.  But as I reached my teens and he, his twenties, we started to get closer to one another.  We joke that we were raised on the same source material, so we have the same sort of sense of humor, and it annoys our dad to no end when we get going.

I think it’s really going to hit hard next week when he’s no longer around all the time.

And in thinking about all this, it strikes me how much our liturgical year and the scriptures assigned to it can speak to us in our day-to-day lives.  Jesus has ascended into heaven.  He left his disciples, but he did not leave them, or us, orphans.  He sends the Holy Spirit to us to be our comforter, advocate, and guide.  Just so, in my family’s current situation, my brother is not abandoning us.  On the contrary, he is giving us a new family member for us to love and who loves us in return.  (Having never had a sister, I am super excited!) 

It will mean changes for all of us, as we adapt to new habits, for the better.  It will be an adjustment to another aspect of our “new normal”.  In that sense, maybe it is helpful that it is happening now, when we are, necessarily, making other adjustments to our lifestyle.  Moving forward will be an adventure, and one that we will hopefully welcome with open arms.

Aftershocks of Scripture

Happy, Blessed Easter!  Keep saying it, because the Easter season lasts all the way until June, and as Catholics, we are an Easter people.

I was struck by a thought as I listened to our Easter Triduum scripture readings this year, and I wonder how many others had the same thought.  I had always registered the verse, “There was a great earthquake” at the moment of Jesus’ death on the cross, but this year, that verse stood out to me.  Yes, it is due to our recent events here in Utah (and even more so with the aftershocks in the last few days), but it also brings to mind a reality of what scripture is meant to do for us.

God speaks to us through scripture.  Hopefully, He moves us through His Word.  In the practice of Lectio Divina, we are encouraged to spend time in silence, contemplating the passage we have read and/or heard.  We are encouraged to listen for what God is saying to us in our current circumstances through the passage.  We then reflect on why He is saying this to us here and now, and we respond to Him in prayer.

Prayer is a dialogue.  It can’t just be us talking all the time.  If it is, how would we know when God responds to our prayers?  This year, the earthquake verse shook me out of my routine (pun intended).  Just as we continue to experience aftershocks from our recent quake, allow God to move you with the aftershocks of His Word.

What the Heck is a Synoptic Gospel?

As this liturgical year comes to a close, we are really finishing up more than just one set of readings.  We are concluding Cycle C, and on Sunday, we will begin a new year, with Cycle A readings.  You probably know that the Catholic Church rotates through three different cycles or sets of readings:  Cycle A, which contains Sunday Gospels mostly from Matthew; Cycle B, with Sunday Gospels mostly from Mark; and Cycle C, with Sunday Gospels mostly from Luke.   We do read from the Gospel of John as well, typically during the Easter season.

You might have noticed that many of the Sunday Gospels during Ordinary Time sound familiar from year to year.  They don’t change that much from Matthew to Mark to Luke.  That is because Matthew, Mark, and Luke are the synoptic Gospels.

Huh?  You might ask, what the heck is a synoptic Gospel?  (Pardon the very typical Utah phrase.)  When I was younger, I used to think synoptic meant that these three Gospels presented a synopsis of Jesus’ life, and it was just a coincidence that they were so similar.  But, as I got older and my English-major-like tendencies kicked into high gear, I took a closer look at the word.

Synoptic comes from two roots:  syn meaning “same,” and optic meaning “view.”  So, a story that is synoptic presents the same view as another story.  They corroborate each other.  The synoptic Gospels present more than just a synopsis of Jesus’ life.  They present roughly the same story, with some differences here and there, owing to the fact that they were written at different times by different authors for differing audiences.  For instance, in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ famous Sermon on the Mount takes place on a the plain instead.

It is tempting to zone out when we hear a familiar Gospel passage, especially if we have heard it a dozen or more times.  But, when you do hear a Gospel reading from Matthew, Mark, or Luke that seems very familiar, challenge yourself to find the ways in which it differs from the other two synoptic Gospels.  If you’re really ambitious, go look up the other two in your Bible at home.  (Concordances, or similar passages, are usually cited in the notes.)  Note the differences.  Ask yourself why there are differences.  Does it take away from the main theme of the passage?  This can help you delve deeper into scripture, something which Catholics of the pre-Vatican II generation were often discouraged from doing.

Even if you don’t make it a habit to do this every Sunday, try to commit to doing it during an “extraordinary” season of the liturgical year, such as Advent, or Lent.  It could be a valuable way to prepare yourself for the seasons of Christmas and Easter.