Mark 6:1-6
Constant Renewal
by Rev. Joseph M. Rampino
Reprinted by permission of "The Arlington
Catholic Herald"
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Mark wrote to explain Christ
to the new Gentile converts.
Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the Sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, "Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?" And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, "A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house." So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.
I once had a classmate in seminary who had converted to the Catholic faith from a devout Lutheran background. I will always remember a story he told about one of the difficulties he encountered in believing what the church taught about the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. He used to tell us: "I knew that the Catholic Church taught that the Eucharist was really the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus. I knew that every church kept the Eucharist in the tabernacle, and that this was why people genuflected when they went to sit in their pews. Yet, when I would go to Catholic churches, I would see the people talking casually in church, dressed in their lounging clothes, distracted and bored, complaining that things were taking too long. I was raised to love the Jesus of the gospels more than anyone and anything on earth, and I thought that if Jesus were really in the tabernacle, I would fall on my face and cry for joy - I would never leave church. So, when I didn't see Catholics acting that way, it was difficult to believe that the Eucharist really was Christ." Later, having become Catholic, my friend would understand that having become used to being in the Lord's presence, he could come and go form the church with familiarity. Nevertheless, he never lost his reverence, and always acted with humility in the presence of Christ.
This short story captures ell the distinction between a familiarity that breeds presumption and leads to unbelief, and one that fosters love and leads to deeper faith. In the Gospel this weekend, the people of Nazareth give an example of the first kind of familiarity. They think they know Jesus already, since they know his family and they know his trade. They presume that nothing new or unexpected can really come from his familiar person, and so they are made immune to real belief. Ironically, being around Jesus for almost 30 years made it impossible for them to see him clearly, to believe in his supernatural origin and mission, and to receive his healing.
We too, especially those of us who grew up in he church, can develop this deadly kind of familiarity. Having heard Bible stories from our earliest days, we can quietly presume we know exactly what they all mean, and begin to ignore them, even unintentionally. Having received Communion since we were small children, we can forget that this sacrament is the presence of God himself, and that nothing about receiving the Lord can ever be casual or automatic. Having attended Mass every week, or even every day for decades, we can forget just how lucky we are that God has let us see even one Mass, much less many hundreds or thousands of Masses. We can start to focus on what we like or don' like about a particular church, choir, celebrant, preacher, missing the fact that we are stepping into heaven's throne room itself at every liturgy. This sort of familiarity can rob us or our wonder and love, and raise walls around our hearts that keep the Lord from making his home in us.
Instead, we should be careful to practice a grateful and reverent familiarity with Jesus and life in his church, reminding ourselves frequently that there is always more to know about the lord, always more to see and love in him, and that we are so fortunate to have the chance to become his friends. This sort of familiarity takes constant renewal, but it deepens our faith, and lets divine love draw us up out of a dull and predictable life into the ever-new surprising life of heaven.