June 25, 2010
Friday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
By Melanie Rigney
On the seventh day of the fifth month (this was in the nineteenth year of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon), Nebuzaradan, captain of the bodyguard, came to Jerusalem as the representative of the king of Babylon. He burned the house of the LORD, the palace of the king, and all the houses of Jerusalem; every large building was destroyed by fire. Then the Chaldean troops who were with the captain of the guard tore down the walls that surrounded Jerusalem. Then Nebuzaradan, captain of the guard, led into exile the last of the people remaining in the city, and those who had deserted to the king of Babylon, and the last of the artisans. But some of the country’s poor, Nebuzaradan, captain of the guard, left behind as vinedressers and farmers. (2 Kings 25:8-12)
By the rivers of Babylon we sat mourning and weeping when we remembered Zion. On the poplars of that land we hung up our harps. There our captors asked us for the words of a song; Our tormentors, for a joyful song: "Sing for us a song of Zion!" But how could we sing a song of the LORD in a foreign land? (Psalms 137:1-4)
When Jesus came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him. And then a leper approached, did him homage, and said, “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” He stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, “I will do it. Be made clean.” His leprosy was cleansed immediately. (Matthew 8:1-3)
Piety
Lord, help me to always sing Your song, even when I believe You have deserted me.
Study
There the Israelites were in Babylon, mourning the loss of their city and homes and belongings as outlined in today’s first reading. And their conquerors ask for a song of Zion. Perhaps the Babylonians saw this as torture; perhaps they didn’t understand the meaning behind the songs they called joyful. Whether the insult was intended or not, imagine the anger and resentment they felt.
While we may not be exiled physically, as Christians we may find ourselves feeling that way at work or in some social settings. It’s easy to sing the Lord’s song when we’re in community or in other Christ-friendly environments. It can be far harder to talk about what faith means to us—our belief in the Resurrection and the life thereafter, our confidence in a loving God and His call to love others—when someone we view as a tormentor rather than a brother or sister in Christ pushes our buttons. Maybe it’s when someone asks on Ash Wednesday, “Are you Catholic or something?” Or during Holy Week, when someone quirks an eyebrow and says, “So you really believe he came back from the dead?” Or when the latest in the seemingly unending barrage of new pedophilic crimes by the ordained is in the news and someone asks, “How can you be part of that Church?”
Christ doesn’t call us to sit around and weep and lick our wounds and mope when we face a challenge. He calls to stand up for ourselves—and for Him—in a loving, not confrontational manner. We can face our tormentors because He is beside us, always.
Action
Give someone who challenges your faith the benefit of the doubt. Behind the attitude may be the beginnings of belief.
