Memorial of Saint Jerome, Priest and Doctor of the Church
“When the days for Jesus to be taken up were fulfilled,
he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem,
and he sent messengers ahead of him.
On the way they entered a Samaritan village
to prepare for his reception there,
but they would not welcome him…”
Echoing all of today’s readings, Luke’s Gospel speaks to us of a deep anguish. Often as we read these passages of despair, we are tempted to quickly place our selves within the reading, in the place of one who is crying out to God. This, overall is a great practice for reading scripture, and should allow us to grow in our spiritual understanding of the texts. They rightly bring to mind our own yearnings for God’s closeness, they richly communicate our pain and distress as we await some relief in the midst of our foes.
But too often this removes us from another, very important posture when reading and reflecting on the scriptures: to be one who listens to the voice of the other.
Perish the day on which I was born,
the night when they said, “The child is a boy!”
Why did I not perish at birth,
come forth from the womb and expire?
Or why was I not buried away like an untimely birth,
like babes that have never seen the light?
Wherefore did the knees receive me?
or why did I suck at the breasts?
Historically, the Scriptures where read allowed to a community gathered together for prayer and worship. Much of the reason for this was the very real scarcity of the texts. Due to the difficult process of reproduction, the Scriptures themselves were reserved at the central place of communal worship.
But this also served another, very important purpose: it allowed the community itself (and the individual members that made it up) to maintain the posture of listening. One received the word from the reader, reminding us as individuals that it is not only about us. We must learn to hear the cries of the other, sit patently while enduring their sorrow, and pray fervently for the ease of their suffering.
When we read the Scriptures alone, either out of our individual bibles or off a screen, we easily revert to an individualized reading. It becomes only about us. We put our words into the mouth of Job, the Psalmist, or Jesus. We habitually deafen our ears to the one speaking, preferring to hear our own voice. This is spiritually impoverishing. Until we open ourselves to listen deeply to the very real sorrow communicated to us in these Sacred texts, we will fail to understand the depth and truth in our own struggles.
Let us be challenged to read these texts again, as if we were accompanying Job, the Psalmist, and even Jesus. May we ask God to open us up to their words anew.
Tyler Delong