29th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Power in Intercessory Prayer)
In early Christianity there was a man from northern Turkey named Marcion. He died around the year 160. He was a Christian theologian, meaning that he sought to connect the dots that are the mysteries of our faith, so that we could more deeply understand. One of the problems with his theology though, was that he sought to juxtapose the God of Israel, from Jesus, as God. For him, the God of the Old Testament was angry and vengeful, while Jesus, a new God, was gentle and good. Marcion thus proposed to get rid of the Old Testament altogether. The Church leadership of the time, said no to that idea.
It's too easy just to cast aside anything that seems difficult on the surface. Instead, we must wrestle with the text, delve into it and extrapolate its deeper meaning. I remind us that the 46 books of the Old Testament are diverse in when they were written, but even more, we can see in them a gradual development of how, over time, God came to be revealed and thus perceived by His people.
Marcion came to mind for me as I reflected on today’s first reading, in which we hear described, the Israelites clearing the way as they move toward the Promised Land. On its surface, it’s violent and likely offends our post-modern and Christian sensibilities: that God would guide His people through war to mow down “Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword”.
Again, I can understand how Marcion found it difficult to find comfort and meaning from such texts, but we have to find their actual meaning. Mowing down the Amalekites with the edge of the sword is not ultimately what it’s about; instead, it's about the power Moses’ intercessory prayer.
Two early Christian teachers, Tertullian and Cyprian, saw a prefiguring of Jesus in this story about Moses. They saw Moses’ staff in connection with Jesus’ cross. They saw Moses’ raised arms in connection with the crucified Jesus’ outstretched arms. They saw the power of Moses’ intercession in connection with Jesus’ priestly prayer for us from the cross, praying that we would be delivered from death and the destructive ways of the devil.
To this last point, the Letter to the Hebrews speaks extensively about Jesus’ priestly identity. The most basic function of a priest is town stand in that middle ground, between God and the people, and to offer a sacrifice to God, for the benefit of the people. We see it in the priests of the Old Testament, and we see it in a priest who celebrates the Mass. As you know, in the Mass, we assume various bodily postures. One posture that the priest assumes is traditionally known as the orans, in which his arms are outstretched, like Moses and like Jesus on the cross. He does so as he intercedes for those entrusted to his care.
But I remind us, that by virtue of our baptism, we are all priestly people. It's a beautiful distinction given us, and like all God’s gifts, it comes with purpose. We are called to stand in that middle ground and offer the sacrifice of prayers—oblation as we call it—for the good of others.
Aside from developing the basic habit of prayer, it can be overwhelming to pray for everyone. I get it. Years ago, I gradually developed an organized way of praying for others. I thought of seven different categories or groups of people that I wanted to be able to pray for in a focused manner, and I assigned a day of the week for each: one day of the week, for my family; another day, my benefactors; another day, my brother priests; another day, those I know who are sick or suffering; and so on. So, for example, on the day I assigned to my family, I spent at least a few minutes, visualizing members of my family, expressing gratitude for them, considering their needs, and how I would ask God to help them. I also developed the habit of keeping a notebook where I pray and keeping a current list of specific people who I want to remember to pray for. These practical approaches are helpful.
We do the best we can with this, realizing that it's near-impossible to remember everyone who needs prayers. Thus, we rely upon God’s power to know our thoughts better than we ourselves. In whatever ways we forget to prayerfully express our desires, God thankfully knows them. But that doesn't mean we willfully neglect our priestly duty.