On Onesimus and Koinonia

I remember being in High School in an English literature class and the assignment was to read one of the forty six books in the Bible for homework. We all gasped. Read a whole book for the next day!

Of course, we were thinking of Moby Dick or To Kill a Mocking Bird. But the books of the Bible are much shorter. The longest of the Gospels is by Saint Luke at 19,482 words, less than a quarter of the size of To Kill a Mockingbird.

But that didn’t come close to satisfying our laziness, as we sought out the very shortest books of the Bible. Some of my more industrious classmates found the Third Letter of John at 219 words, while others found the Second Letter of John at 245 words. But I was close, finding Paul’s letter to Philemon, weighing in at just over 300 words! And all this without the benefit of the internet.

Of course it probably took me an hour to find a short book, and less than a quarter of an hour to read it. And boy, was it confusing!

Saint Paul, you see, happens to be in prison again, and the fellow who has been taking care of him is named Onesimus. I thought that was a rather funny name, as I had never met anyone named Onesimus. But then again, I didn’t know any Philemons either!

Anyways, while Paul has great affection for Onesimus, calling him his adopted son, Onesimus has a really interesting back story. You see the young Onesimus was a slave, back in the city of Colossae (remember Paul’s letter to the Colossians) who sought Paul out in Prison, because his life was now all messed up and he needed some good advice.

Paul, from prison, scrapes the young Onesimus off the ceiling and tells him about Jesus and what life is really all about. He converts the runaway slave to Christianity, and presumably baptizes him, after which Onesimus becomes entirely devoted to the elderly prisoner and takes care of him.

But now, for the rest of the story. For Onesimus, it turns out, was a slave who belonged to one of Paul’s old friends, Philemon, from whom he had stolen something when he ran away and came to Paul for help. Now, Paul tells us, Onesimus is a changed man. And more importantly, he tries to tell Philemon the same thing.

Now picture Philemon, a fairly rich and influential leader back in Philippi. As Paul relates in the opening verses of his letter, Philemon is a man of deep faith, whom Paul regards as a coworker in spreading the Gospel. He is probably a leader in the local Church, whom Paul became well aquatinted with during his missionary journeys. But now he is just a master whose slave ran away from him after stealing. And that’s where it gets interesting.

Paul begins the second chapter of his letter by taking about unity or communion. Little Martin over there received his First Holy Communion last week and in just a few minutes we will all go to Communion. The word for communion in Greek is KOINONIA. It’s a peculiar word, which describes a common union in Christ, the intimate union we receive in Baptism. In being joined with Christ, we become sons and daughter of his heavenly Father and brothers and sisters of all the Baptized. Saint Paul refers to Christ as the “first born of many brothers and sisters,” and repeatedly speaks of our insertion into the life of God, our union with the Blessed Trinity.

The Fathers of the Church spoke of this communion, this koinonia, as well. Just as the Father loves the son with a total paternal love, so the Son loves the Father with perfect filial obedience, each pouring out that love which is God on the other, in an action which is the Holy Spirit, a love so tangible, as my grandmother used to say, that “you could cut it with a knife.” And this communion, this koinonia of love which is the Blessed Trinity, which is God, is what we become one with in Baptism, and which we receive in Holy Communion, one bread, one cup, one Body in Christ.

That means that we are one in Christ, you and I, no matter what happens and no matter where we go. It’s what I will pray for in a few minutes in the Third Eucharistic Prayer:

grant that we, who are nourished

by the Body and Blood of your Son

and filled with his Holy Spirit,

may become one body, one spirit in Christ.

It is the self-same faith which we profess in “one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.”

This unity is not born of human affection or political calculation, but of the grace of God working in our lives. We forgive others not because they are necessarily worthy of our forgiveness, but because the grace God demands it and gives us the strength to do it. We lay down our lives for anyone who needs us not because we are such good people, but because the grace of God gives us the power to love others as he first loved us.

Each time we love, then, it is not so much a testament to our goodness, as to Christ’s grace. And it is only because we are one with him, that we can love one another.

Fidelity to that love is, then, fidelity to God, and the failure to love my brother or sister is a failure to love him, which is why Christ tells us that when we love the hungry, the poor, the homeless or the prisoner, we are really loving him.

This is the great mystery of Koinonia and of Holy Communion, that having been made one with Christ, having been loved by him as he hung upon the wood of the Christ in the perfect sacrifice of praise, we can now love one another. Just picture him looking down at us from the altar of the cross and saying, “love one another, as I have loved you.”

So, now back to poor Philemon, having lost his slave and the stuff the wretch stole from him.

That slave, Paul writes to Philemon, is no more. For I am sending the baptized Onesimus back to you, “no longer as a slave [but as] a brother.” He is now your brother in Christ, whom, Paul tells Philemon, you should welcome in the same manner that would welcome me.

For that’s what the love of God does. It turns slaves into brothers, and prisoners into free men. It turns thieves into disciples and strangers into obedient sons.

Which is not quite what I got out of this little book the first time I read it, all 319 words. But it’s something I’ve learned. That we are nothing without the grace of God, and with it, we can love just like him.

What kind of fishermen are we?

What kind of fishermen are we?  God sends us out into the world to fish for men and and women, to catch them for God.  But what kind of fishermen are we.

Sometimes we stay on the shore, casting our lines with hesitation, almost half-hoping that nothing will nibble so that we won’t have to work to haul them in.  Our half-hearted attempts are almost laughable, and often more preoccupied with remaining safely on shore than bringing in a big catch.

But then the Lord appears by the shore and whispers in our ears: Duc in Altum: “Put out into the deep water and lower your nets for a catch.”  But Lord, we protest.  It’s dangerous out in the deep water.  We might fall in and drown.  A storm might come up all of the sudden and we could get drenched or the sailing could get rough.

But he smiles and says it again: Duc in Altum, “Put out into the deep water” where the crazy and uncomfortable people live, where the not so nice people are: cast out into the margins, where they don’t smile at you, in fact they walk away.  But cast your nets into the deepest parts of seas, for there you will catch the greatest number of fish.

Paying for the Roof...

Here are the posters for this weekend's roof collection.  If you would like to help with the roof loan, please click here and make your donation today!  Thank you for your generosity!

A Day at the Worcester Pharmacy and Health Sciences School

Barbara Lizardo, Vo Robert and I were delighted to meet so many of the incoming students at the MCPHS Resource Fair today.  Here's a picture of Barbara, ready to distribute one of our informative brochures to the next student!

A Peak into Your Cathedral Church..

Here's a quick peak into the life of your Cathedral Church in Worcester!  This very brief video was developed for our table at the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences open house for new students tomorrow.  I hope you enjoy it, as well!

Pilgrimage to Ireland

Have you ever wanted to pray in Ireland? I am planning to lead yet another pilgrimage to Ireland next February with Mass every day and stops in Dublin, Galway, Kinsale, Killarney and Kingscourt. Flight from Boston with a private motor coach and a guide and escort well known to me. Nine nights in superior Class 4 hotel rooms with private bath.  Come pray with me in the land of Patrick and Brigid! If you're interested just send me an email or contact our wonderful tour agent, Eleisa today!

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE BROCHURE

Martin Receives his First Holy Communion

Martin Towne received his First Holy Communion on Sunday. This is the homily I preached on seeking to be humble.

There are really only two choices: me or Jesus. And isn’t it funny that everything that defined my life this past week really comes down to those choices. Was it about me or was it about following Jesus.

Like with Cain, who in a moment of jealous rage, killed his brother Abel. You remember the story. God liked Abel’s sacrifices best, and Cain just couldn’t stand that, murdering his brother out of green-eyed greed. But then Abel’s blood, we are told, cried out from the grave for revenge and this resulted in Cain wandering the earth in punishment for his crime, marked as an outcast. Thus Cain’s act of violence, propagated misery, loneliness and death.

And if only he had known there was another way, as the author of the letter to the Hebrews reminds us today. For while the blood of innocent Abel cried out for revenge, the innocent blood of Christ, crucified by equally evil men, looks down on his tormentors and prays “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Abel’s blood cries out for vengeance. Jesus’ blood brings mercy and forgiveness. It is “the sprinkled blood that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel” (Hebrews) and which teaches us how to live.

And then there are the Disciples of Jesus who send their mother to ask that they have the best seats in the Kingdom of heaven: one at his left and the other at his right. They wanted the best seats because, as their mother kept assuring them, no one was a handsome or as smart or as successful as they were. 

But then you remember what Jesus did. Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God through whom all things were made, knelt down in front of them and took a child in his arms and said unless you become like a little child you cannot even enter the Kingdom of God. 

And there he is in “the home of one of the leading Pharisees,” no doubt in the seat of honor, as he turns to his important hosts and says: “go and take the lowest place.”

And then there’s the rich man. You remember him. And Lazarus, the poor wretch who used to beg for food on the front steps of the rich man's house, and how the dogs used to come and lick the sores on Lazarus' body, while the rich man turned his head the other way and stepped over the beggar on his front stoop. He’d go inside and feast sumptuously with his friends. And you remember how Lazarus went to heaven and the rich man went to hell because he failed to love Lazarus.  

And Jesus is very clear. The way to hell is to enjoy the filet mignon with all your powerful friends while the poor man starves out on your doorstep. No, Jesus commands. When you throw a banquet invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind! And then you will be repaid, not by Lazarus, but by the Lord on the Day of Judgement.

Exposition

For there are two ways of being: the way of Cain and the rich man and the ambitious disciples, and the way of Jesus.

Sirach understood this choice well when he advised you to “conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts. Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God.”

As did Saint Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, when he described how God came to save us. He did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at, he said, but rather the Lord humbled himself and took the form of a slave, obedient even to the Cross.

He humbled himself. The Greek word is tapeinophrosyne, the opposite of the pagan virtue of megalopsychia, or pride. For humility is never boastful or arrogant. It does not seek to make a good impression on others. Indeed, the humble person does not seek to be someone important, because he already knows that he is a child of God, and what more could he ever want to be?

For the proud man, the all-knowing “self” is the center of the world. But for the follower of Jesus, God is the center of the world, for he is the way, the truth and the life. And in worshipping him I learn the true secret of life: that smallness and obedience in the presence of the Almighty God, is the only greatness there is. And the only true happiness lies in pleasing God and being what he has made me to be.

It is a secret preached better by Martin, who today makes his First Holy Communion, than it ever will be my me. For Martin knows the secret. He knows that Jesus loves him so much that he became a little baby out of love for him. He knows that Jesus loves him so much that he died for him on the Cross. And he knows that Jesus loves him so much that when, for the first time, he receives Jesus in Holy Communion today, Jesus will remain with him and give him the grace to grow in wisdom and grace for the rest of his lives.

Martin knows. And maybe that’s because he is still little. He knows that the least shall be the greatest, the last shall be the first and the one who serves will be the most blessed in the Kingdom of God.