The Parables of Jesus: Ancient Stories with Enduring Meaning

In July I posted about the significance of contemplation and action here at Carlow University. These two dimensions of Christian spirituality and practice are integral to the heritage of the Sisters of Mercy and are also a key feature of Carlow’s new general education curriculum, the Carlow Compass. In contemplation and action courses second semester students are challenged to reflect on an issue from the perspective of a particular academic discipline, and to choose a small but meaningful act of service which they will practice throughout the semester. We are calling it “a small act of mercy.” Students will reflect on this act in conversation with the course readings, in discussion with their classmates, and in their own times of reflection. In January the first round of contemplation and action courses will be offered, and among them will be my course “The Parables of Jesus: Ancient Stories with Enduring Meaning.”

Here is the course description from the syllabus:

This course examines one of the most noteworthy aspects of the teaching style of Jesus: his use of simple stories to engage his listeners and to challenge them to consider new ways of understanding the world and their place in it. Our exploration of the parables of Jesus will consider what we can learn from them both in terms of what they teach and also in terms of how they communicate. Since justice, mercy, and virtue are prominent themes in the parables, this Contemplation and Action course allows ample opportunity for students to reflect on Carlow University’s Mercy heritage with its commitment to service, social responsibility, and ethical reasoning. In addition to course readings, reflection papers, class discussion, and the composition of their own parables, students will also engage in small act of service throughout the semester. These activities will become part of a reflective framework by which they can begin to hone their personal ethic and perspective on social responsibility in light of the Mercy tradition. 

For this course I have selected Amy Jill Levine’s Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi as the primary text. Her analysis of the parables within their first century Jewish context is very illuminating. Those familiar with her work will not be surprised to learn that in this volume she challenges a number of “traditional” readings of the parables, particularly those interpretations that present Judaism in a negative light and Christianity as a refreshing alternative to the stale legalism and hypocrisy of the Pharisees. She shows that in many cases such readings derive from a kind of latent (or blatant) anti-Judaism, and that these readings are not supported by sound exegesis. Instead, she challenges readers to hear the parables as first century Jews would have heard them, and as coming from a first-century Jewish teacher. In this way, we can hear the challenge of each parable anew, and then consider the challenge it may offer contemporary readers. While she does not always succeed in forwarding a new or better reading of every parable, her placing of each in its historical context is commendable and provides excellent background material with which to work. And though this will be my first time teaching this course with this textbook, it seems to me that this volume will be accessible to undergraduate students.

In addition to Levine’s book students will use Louise Schottroff’s volume, The Parables of Jesus, to help them do some further research on some parables of their choosing. In a completely different vein, students will read Henri Nouwen’s The Return of the Prodigal Son in which he reflects on his sustained encounter with Rembrandt’s painting of this important scene within the parable. In many ways, his reflections move well beyond the kind of historical and exegetical work we will be doing in class. And I will be interested to see how students engage with his work at the end of the semester.

Prayer for the Beginning of a New Academic Year

God of mercy, as we begin this new academic year we thank you for the mercy you 

show each of us. We ask in the year ahead that you would enable us to show mercy 

to others, and to receive it. 

 

God of the past, we thank you for the experiences of our lives which have shaped 

us into the people we are today. We ask in the year ahead that you would give us a 

new appreciation for who you have made us to be. 

 

God of the future, we thank you for the promise of your presence in all of our 

endeavors. We ask that in the year ahead that you give us eyes to perceive your 

presence in our lives, in the lives of others, and in the world around us. 

 

God of wisdom, we thank you that you invite us on a path of seeking knowledge, 

understanding, and wisdom. We ask that you guide us in our journey and deepen 

the wisdom within each of us through all of the experiences of university life. 

 

God of justice, we thank you that you see the plight of the oppressed, and that you 

hear the cries of those who suffer. We ask in the year ahead that you would 

increase our capacity for perceiving injustice and suffering around us and that you 

would develop our ability to practice those actions that promote a just and merciful 

world. 

 

God of surprises, we thank you that every day brings new hope, new possibilities, 

and new energy. We ask in the year ahead that you enable us to remain open to all 

that you have in store for us. 

 

God of the present, we pause now to recognize the sacredness of this moment in 

our lives. 

 

God of mercy, we thank you for the mercy you show each of us each and every 

day. We ask in the year ahead that you would enable us to show mercy to others, 

and to receive it. 

A Shout-Out to the Jesuits

Image of Ignatius from Jesuits.org

Today is the feast day for Ignatius of Loyola in the Roman Catholic Church, and is the day on which the founder of the Jesuits died in 1556. A brief sketch of his life may be found here. My interaction with the Jesuits has been limited but as I think about the legacy and influence of Ignatius, I cannot help but think of the influence of two of my Jesuit professors at the University of Notre Dame. Brian Daley, S.J., is an award-winning theologian and patristics scholar, and Jerry Neyrey, S.J., is a (now retired) New Testament scholar who was instrumental in bringing social scientific approaches to the study of the Bible. Aside from their impressive scholarship and influence in their fields, both are tremendous teachers, mentors, and living examples of “faith seeking understanding.”

During my time at Notre Dame I worked more closely with Father Neyrey since he served on my dissertation committee, and I have always deeply appreciated his intellectual generosity in sharing of his time and his own research findings and source materials. I also appreciate his ability to provide pithy and incisive critique—a skill of his of which I was often the beneficiary and which I know has greatly influenced my own work.

In a recent interview in America, Father Daley called for “well-informed, generous moderation” in theological discussions today, in contrast to the kinds of polarizing and caustic kinds of expression that are seen in many quarters of our culture today. Such well-informed, generous moderation is what he and Father Neyrey modeled for me at Notre Dame. He explains: “A thoughtful and sympathetic understanding of tradition…frees us to imagine what the church can best be today and tomorrow.” This, to me, is a large part of what a university education, within the context of an institution grounded in a particular faith tradition, can provide to students. It can help them to understand their tradition in ways that allow them to appreciate it more fully. And it also gives them the tools to think critically and creatively about their tradition, the traditions of others, and the ways in which these traditions can inform the problems and challenges confronting the world around them.

In the interview, Father Daley noted his plans to continue researching and writing and also providing spiritual direction and pastoral ministry even after he retires in a few years: “For Jesuits, thinking and writing and teaching are all forms of what St. Ignatius called ‘helping souls,’ which is what we do.” I very much resonate with that idea and have found that for those called to higher education--even as other tasks, roles, and responsibilities press in--, thinking well, writing well, and teaching well remain at the heart of our work.

Mercy Themes in the Song of Zechariah

Being at a Sisters of Mercy university means that the concept of mercy, and what it means for our educational context, our pedagogy, and our institution, is often part of the conversation.  Today I was struck by the way in which mercy is explicitly invoked in the infancy narrative of Luke’s Gospel in the Song of Zechariah (Luke 1:68-79) Though not necessarily a psalm sung by the early Christians, this passage does seem to reflect the Jewish milieu of the early church and also probably reflects themes and expressions prominent in early Christian worship, particularly with its psalm-like style. For a detailed treatment of the psalm as a kind of didactic hymn, see pp. 311-314 in my book Teaching through Song in Antiquity. There I argue that hymns, psalms, and prayers included in other genres (such as narratives and epistles) often have a didactic function: while ostensibly directed in praise of God, they serve to instruct the reader by promoting a particular view of reality that the reader is urged to embrace. The power and impact of using a hymn in this way is that the author can move out of the normal expression of writing history or a letter, and can engage the reader or hearer with language, imagery, and expressions that have a greater affective impact. Thus, the ways in which hymns and psalms convey their instruction is somewhat different than the direct instruction of someone simply saying, “This is how it is.” The didactic impact of a hymn or song is in some ways more "caught" than directly taught.

In the case of the Song of Zechariah (commonly referred to as the Benedictus), by including it in the narrative Luke is able to highlight a number of themes important to his overall Gospel. In particular, through the psalm style and allusions to key events of deliverance in the history of Israel, Luke is able to show that Jesus and John are both to be understood as part of that history of God’s mercy. The reader learns this without Luke ever having to say it explicitly. The portions of the passage that explicitly invoke the theme of mercy are:

Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors (v. 72a)

And

By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace. (vv. 78-79)

It is thus the mercy of God which is the originating impetus behind a number of favorable results for humanity. Following the logic of the psalm, we might note that this divine mercy results in: incarnation (faithful presence of the promised savior); illumination (light for those in darkness); guidance; progress along a good path; and peace (shalom; well-being). These are the kinds of values and practices that Luke promotes by including this hymnic passage within his narrative. In singing this song, Zechariah serves as a model of someone who recognizes and experiences God’s mercy and responds with praise. He has also become a teacher, instructing the reader in the way in which the story of Jesus is to be understood, and holding up the values to be put into practice within the Christian community. The story of Jesus is thus a story of God’s mercy resulting in the sending of the savior (v. 68) and the resulting illumination of those living in darkness.

Those seeking to embody and practice this kind of mercy today can consider ways in which they can participate in the same kinds of redemptive tasks: embodying faithful presence to those in need; offering illumination and instruction that can change lives; offering guidance and mentoring to the next generation; and working for the well-being of humanity and of our world. To participate in these kinds of redemptive tasks today, even on the smallest scale, would seem to be ways of bringing the mercy of God to those who need it: all of us.

Contemplation and Action

Having just begun a new position at Carlow University, I find myself in an exciting and energizing phase in which I am daily meeting new colleagues, learning about new programs, and becoming acquainted with the culture and traditions of my new school. Among the many positive things I am discovering, I am really pleased to be learning about the ways in which Carlow University embodies the values and practices of its founding order, the Sisters of Mercy. Founded by Catherine McAuley in 19th century Ireland, the Sisters of Mercy practice a kind of spirituality that is marked by contemplation and action, and is thus an approach to the Christian life that values mercy, hospitality, and service, as well as a sense of wonder at the mysteries of creation and a respect for all that God has created. I am just beginning to learn how these aspects of the tradition are brought to life in the curriculum, on the campus spaces, in extra-curricular activities, and in the way in which Carlow faculty and staff go about their educational work in ways that place a high value on relationships and concern for the whole person.

One dimension of this that is new not only to me but to everyone on campus is a new core curriculum called the Carlow Compass. This undergraduate general education curriculum is being implemented this fall with a first round of new classes. While the curriculum as a whole is quite unique in its design, one especially innovative aspect of the Compass is the way in which this idea of contemplation joined with action is built into a student's experience. Specifically, in a discipline-specific “Contemplation and Action” course, students identify a real problem or challenge that is of concern to them, and then they work with their professors to consider how they can draw on the wisdom of that academic discipline to begin to address it. Regardless of the problem students identify, or the academic discipline they are studying, students learn to practice and value contemplation—deep, reflective, critical thinking—as well as meaningful action informed by that kind of reflection.

This process reflects the Mercy heritage as reflected in the writings and life of Catherine McAuley, who was a person of action and a person of reflection. In reading about her the other day I came across this poem which bears this theme out well:

Sweet Mercy! – soothing, patient, kind –

softens the high and rears the fallen mind;

knows with just rein and even hand to guide

between false fear and arbitrary pride.

Not easily provoked, she soon forgives:

feels love for all, and by a look, relieves.

Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives,

removes our anguish and reforms our lives;

makes the rough paths of peevish nature even,

and opens in each heart a little heaven.

(cited in Helen Marie Burns and Sheila Carney, Praying with Catherine McAuley [Winona, MN: St. Mary’s Press, 1996], p. 36.)

I and my faculty are looking forward to seeing how students respond to this new approach to the core curriculum. I applaud the work of the faculty and administration here who have taken such a thoughtful and purposeful approach to helping students develop the perspectives and skills that Carlow University claims to value.