Last night, I attended Mass outside for the first time. It had the feel of a revival meeting, except, you know, we're Catholic. I wonder what the great Dr. Graham would say. And I definitely wish he had been there.
I'm thankful not to be knowingly in any kind of heresy, but Billy Graham just makes you say, "Geez, I wish my material heresy had been ten percent as God-glorifying as that." You know, Confirmation Sponsor Spouse Lady reminded me that singing is like praying twice. It was probably a quote from a saint who ate dirt and was thankful, or something. [There is no St. Elder Cosby, is there?--ed.] You never know. Anyway, I'd say most of the Liturgy of the Word was chanted, and it was beautiful. More than that, though, the words we were singing stuck. There was something building last night, at least in me, of eschatological expectation. It felt like seeing the whole Bible, the whole redemptive plan, in the light of its urgency. The People of God waiting, yearning, for God to act. This is what it must have felt like as a good Israelite right before Jesus came, I thought. The whole Old Testament is a story in search of an ending, as an old friend used to say. And Christ is that ending. If we as non-Jews pick up our New Testaments and fail to feel fortunate that we're even hearing from this God, we're not reading it right. N.T. Wright, insofar as he says this, is one thousand percent right. It doesn't have to be this intense emotional reaction, but it should be there. But can you imagine the joy of being an Israelite, and finding the whole hope of your entire life and that of your people standing right in front of you in the person of Jesus Christ? John 1:14, no wonder! Go read it. Stew on what this would mean to a Jew in the first century. The glory of God left the Temple a long time ago. David was king a long time ago. And assuming you hadn't compromised yourself in some heinous repeated way, you'd be waiting, yearning, hoping, for God to restore His people. Lots of tragic things happened in between the glory days, and where you are now. And then it happens.
Mary's right in the middle of it. She gets to bear the Savior Himself! How great must she be, to be fit for such a gift! And she is faithful Israel personified. This is why she is our "life, our sweetness, and our hope." Not because we just like elevating the wong people, but because if we have any chance whatever of seeing the glory of Christ in all its fullness, we need to see the glory of the old for all that it is. Who better than the truest Israelite to show us? And she was literally the bridge between the covenants. You will do a lot of contemplating if you have kept the covenant in the highest sense always, and then you bear the Messiah, the mediator of a new and better covenant. Ever notice Mary doesn't say much in the Scriptures?
The next verse is instructive; the Law through Moses, but grace and truth through Jesus Christ. You and I always have to keep the fact of being wild olive branches squarely in mind. The grace of what we see doesn't come from nowhere. At that somewhere is scarcely understood. But Mary understands. If you don't talk to her about it, how dumb are you?
And this is why our visible divisions as Christians are so bad. You don't dissent from skekinah-glory. You can't nitpick your way to the fullness of Christ. You can't argue your way to a unified heavenly chorus. Why do you follow the men you do? Why do you believe the particular things you do, and not other things?
I guess I mean to say that an ordinary Saturday isn't always so ordinary. And that Jesus can break into our lives and hearts just as surely as He did in the Incarnation.
I'm thankful not to be knowingly in any kind of heresy, but Billy Graham just makes you say, "Geez, I wish my material heresy had been ten percent as God-glorifying as that." You know, Confirmation Sponsor Spouse Lady reminded me that singing is like praying twice. It was probably a quote from a saint who ate dirt and was thankful, or something. [There is no St. Elder Cosby, is there?--ed.] You never know. Anyway, I'd say most of the Liturgy of the Word was chanted, and it was beautiful. More than that, though, the words we were singing stuck. There was something building last night, at least in me, of eschatological expectation. It felt like seeing the whole Bible, the whole redemptive plan, in the light of its urgency. The People of God waiting, yearning, for God to act. This is what it must have felt like as a good Israelite right before Jesus came, I thought. The whole Old Testament is a story in search of an ending, as an old friend used to say. And Christ is that ending. If we as non-Jews pick up our New Testaments and fail to feel fortunate that we're even hearing from this God, we're not reading it right. N.T. Wright, insofar as he says this, is one thousand percent right. It doesn't have to be this intense emotional reaction, but it should be there. But can you imagine the joy of being an Israelite, and finding the whole hope of your entire life and that of your people standing right in front of you in the person of Jesus Christ? John 1:14, no wonder! Go read it. Stew on what this would mean to a Jew in the first century. The glory of God left the Temple a long time ago. David was king a long time ago. And assuming you hadn't compromised yourself in some heinous repeated way, you'd be waiting, yearning, hoping, for God to restore His people. Lots of tragic things happened in between the glory days, and where you are now. And then it happens.
Mary's right in the middle of it. She gets to bear the Savior Himself! How great must she be, to be fit for such a gift! And she is faithful Israel personified. This is why she is our "life, our sweetness, and our hope." Not because we just like elevating the wong people, but because if we have any chance whatever of seeing the glory of Christ in all its fullness, we need to see the glory of the old for all that it is. Who better than the truest Israelite to show us? And she was literally the bridge between the covenants. You will do a lot of contemplating if you have kept the covenant in the highest sense always, and then you bear the Messiah, the mediator of a new and better covenant. Ever notice Mary doesn't say much in the Scriptures?
The next verse is instructive; the Law through Moses, but grace and truth through Jesus Christ. You and I always have to keep the fact of being wild olive branches squarely in mind. The grace of what we see doesn't come from nowhere. At that somewhere is scarcely understood. But Mary understands. If you don't talk to her about it, how dumb are you?
And this is why our visible divisions as Christians are so bad. You don't dissent from skekinah-glory. You can't nitpick your way to the fullness of Christ. You can't argue your way to a unified heavenly chorus. Why do you follow the men you do? Why do you believe the particular things you do, and not other things?
I guess I mean to say that an ordinary Saturday isn't always so ordinary. And that Jesus can break into our lives and hearts just as surely as He did in the Incarnation.
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