Memorial of Saint John Bosco, Priest
King David: lion wrestler, Goliath slayer, mighty warrior. But in our first reading today he is on the run, barefoot, and fleeing assassination at the hand of his own son. Life crumbling around him, David is unhinged. On top of all this, he's harassed by a deranged heckler accusing the monarch of undaunted pride, the root of all sin. His life unraveling, David admits he has placed himself before YHWH, arrogance the source of his misfortune.
In contrast, Mark portrays Jesus in command and right with God------driving a legion of devils into a herd of swine. He frees the madman among the tombs from demonic attack. He's in control of the narrative. Jesus, unlike his royal forebear, lived in total fidelity and obedience to his Father.
January 31 is the feast of St. John Bosco (19th century). In a way, the story of the lunatic about the tombs fits the saint's life. Don Bosco was considered off his rocker by his contemporaries. Some thought him mad. His brother priests tried to convince the bishop to commit “the Don” to a sanitarium.
The dust up about Bosco concerned his single-minded devotion to wild and seemingly hopeless street urchins roaming Turin, Italy (think Oliver Twist). These boys made the maniac of today's Gospel look sedate. Their antics disturbed shop keepers, the authorities, and all the “well-bred and proper” townspeople.
The saint refused to write off the rowdy boys of Turin. His methods for gaining their trust were unconventional---magic tricks, games, jokes, and lots of humor. Instead of the paddle and the belt, Bosco offered loving kindness. He even learned their names. Such a modus operandi drew plenty of shaking heads and tsk-tsking among peers and superiors alike.
Don Bosco was regarded as “out of it,” like David in our first reading. Unlike David, Jesus is portrayed as having it together, the man in charge. But earlier in Mark his own family sought him out believing “he is out of his mind” (Mark 3:21). The religious authorities were convinced Jesus was in league with Beelzebub. And what he taught about the Kingdom of God was so alarming and egregious that he ended up on a Roman cross.
A lesson for us on this last day of January is that the Almighty likes to move in unconventional and even unacceptable ways. God refuses to be restrained or corralled. Like the “Don of Turin” we need to think outside the box, too, so as to know what God wants us to do.
John XXIII (1958-1963) spent the first year of his brief papacy constantly asking, “What does God want me to do?” The Roman Curia placated the old man, thinking him a simpleton, daft, even senile. They'd ride out this geriatric pope until the next conclave that can't be far off. The job of transitional popes was to smile and wave. Some already knew he had cancer. But from John's question, “What does God want me to do?” came the faithful revolution called Vatican Council II.
So if others think us a bit loony along the way, then so be it. We are in good company.
Timothy J. Cronin