Prophecy - Prophecy can be profitable – find some people who what to hear what you have to say – tell them what they want to hear, and money can be made – It does not even have to be many people, as long a they have money and are willing to spend it – this is it the situation in 8^th Century BC – the time Amos is a prophet and says that “I was no prophet, nor have I belonged to a company of prophets”

The Israelites have seen the Kingdom built by King David split, there are now two kingdoms, one in the north – to be confusing, called Israel, and one in the south called Judah. Each King has their own company of prophets to guide them, - and surprises, surprises – the different companies of prophet’s prophesy different things depending on who has hired them. And it is not just two different sets of prophets for different kings, - there are also competing temples - there is the temple of the Lord in Jerusalem, but that is in Judah, the southern kingdom and the king of Israel in the north does not want his people going to someone else’s kingdom to worship, so he built two knew temples against the laws of the Old Testament, one in Bethel and one in Dan. Each of the temples has a company of prophets who – surprise surprises, says you should worship at their temple and give your money that temple.

These self-proclaimed prophets are clearly not true prophets – Their prophecies match the wishes of whoever pays them. They got the job either by being rhetorically skilled or inheriting the job from their father. In the end, these “prophets” are only right when who they are prophesying for, are right – if one looked hard enough, or paid enough money, there was a “prophet” ready to give the prophecy one desired.

So in the 8^th Century BC, so also today. There are still plenty of self-proclaimed prophets, whether talking heads on TV, in books, newspapers, magazines, blogs, facebook, youtube, or twitter. And it can still be quite profitable, just check how much money a bestselling book, blog, or top youtuber can make. If one wants to find someone saying what you want to hear – it can be found.

But in contrast to these sorts of false prophecies - GK Chesterton, thinking about the teachings of religion writes – “We do not really want a religion that is right where we are right. What we want is a religion that is right where we are wrong”

Chesterton makes an important point. At least for myself, I don’t need anyone’s help telling myself that I am right – trust me - I am very good at that already. The challenge is knowing when I am wrong, that I am not nearly as good at. I don’t like to find out I am wrong about anything – I don’t think anyone does like to be wrong. But, especially in our faith, it can be important know when we are mistaken, that we might better live out our faith better and come closer to God - this is where true prophecy can come in to help.

When we think of prophets and prophecy, we often think of predictions about the future, but a better understanding is God’s message and messenger. While there are sometimes things about the future in God’s message, usually the message is about how to live in the present. Prophecy is about God calling his people back to himself and his covenant when his people have gone astray. – helping to restore his people to right relation with God - However, there is a big challenge prophecy, especial given the extent of self-proclaimed prophets - who is actually a prophet? This has always been a challenge throughout history and always will be – there is not an easy answer to give - But example of the prophet Amos might shed some light.

Amos was a prophet during the time of all these different companies of prophets in the 8^th Century BC, it is to them that Amos says that “I was no prophet, nor have I belonged to a company of prophets.” – He is not telling anyone how right they are or what they want to hear, but to call them back to the Lord.

Amos was prophesying around the temple in Bethel – that the temple is Bethel is not a legitimate temple, the only real temple of the Lord is in Jerusalem. He is prophesying around the wealthy – about the plight of the poor and God’s care for the poor.

This calling back to God is one way to help know a true prophet. As a prophet is God’s messenger – if the prophet points away from God, he is no prophet.

A second way to help identify a true prophet is the life of the prophet – does he live what he preaches - does he live a life of virtue and humility? Amos was not prophesying in a place he liked or wanted to be - Amos is giving his prophecies in the northern kingdom of Israel – but is from the southern kingdom of Judah – He is not currying favor or seeking wealth, he was a shepherd and dresser of sycamores – Not exactly a high class Job –– These show that Amos was only prophesying because he has been called, by God to bring his message – he did gaining personally from his prophecy.

The focus of the message on God and the virtue of the person giving the message can be two ways to help identify a true prophet. And this is a guide that we can use today - We don’t hear the language of prophet and prophecy often in the Church today - we talk of preachers and teachers – but there are teachers and preachers in the Church who are serving God’s call, proclaim the message of God and living it out virtuously, the two things noted about the prophet Amos. They are not necessarily flashy on the TV – usually they are not - often they are simple members of the parish - possibly a catechist or youth ministers, as Amos was a simple shepherd.

So when we hear something that we disagree with, let us not just ignore it or go searching for someone else that well tell us what we want to hear. - instead, let us slow down and take a minute in prayer, consider the person who gave us the message and ask – Is it possible that what I think might be wrong? – Is this calling me back to God? After all – what we want is “a religion that is right where we are wrong.” And if we were mistaken? Let us give thanks to God that we have been corrected and have drawn closer to God.
 

       There is someone I know, who grew up in Burlington, in the 1960’s, and attended one of the three Catholic elementary schools. One Friday in the fall, his teacher, a religious sister, led the class in prayer. And the prayer was for Notre Dame to win the football game that weekend. The student wondered: why are we praying for a football game?’
         In many ways, this story is a great snapshot of Catholicism in the United States. The immigrant brand of Christianity, arriving on these shores – without much money, without much education, without much power – and looked down upon, by those who arrived earlier. They arrived from Germany, Ireland, French Canada, Italy, and Eastern Europe. Now, they arrive from Latin America, Asia, and Africa.
         Those immigrants, our ancestors, built their own schools, hospitals, universities, to serve their communities. They may have also felt like they had to prove themselves, to the locals. So, as for American colleges, the hope became: ‘one day, we’ll be just like Alabama in football, and Harvard in academics.’ With the benefit of hindsight, we might wonder if U.S. Catholics got too much into the comparison game, and fell into the mousetrap of pride.
         Paul, in our 2^nd Reading, is under a similar pressure to prove himself, to someone else. In this case, the Corinthians. For a number of reasons, he hasn’t been able to spend quality time with them, and in his absence, other preachers have arrived on the scene. They seem to have qualities that Paul doesn’t have: great speakers, various spiritual gifts, overcoming problems with ease. They chide Paul: for not being a good speaker, and for having some sort of disability (the ‘thorn in the flesh’ that Paul cryptically speaks of). In sum, they accuse Paul of being weak.
         Now for Paul, who had a big personality, many talents and self-confidence, this criticism could have sent him into orbit. He could have responded, by noting all of his skills and achievements, to try and win a war of ‘I’m better than you.’
         But Paul has encountered Christ…and ever since that day, over a process of years, has become more like Him. So, Paul responds in a different manner. He, in essence, responds: ‘Yup, you’re right. I am weak. In fact, let me explain to you how I am weak. I have this personal difficulty, I’ve been insulted, beaten, chased out of town, had my plans changed, failed in what I set out to do.’
         This – is – me.
         By fully embracing his weaknesses, Paul does something for his listeners, that previously, he couldn’t have done. Paul can display the work of God, in him and through him. In fact, God has worked His will through Paul, despite himself. And for the Corinthians, this gives them hope. They, who are new to the faith, and have their own weaknesses. If God can work through Paul and his imperfections, then God can even work through them.
         Jesus, in our Gospel, has just astounded his fellow townsfolk with his teachings. They also know of his miracles. Yet they hold in contempt, because they think // they already know all about him. At this point, Jesus could have upped the ante. He could have offered teachings even more profound….performed miracles even more astounding. In essence saying, “I’ll show you a thing or two.”
         But He doesn’t get in the comparison game. He knows it wouldn’t have mattered, because at that moment, their hearts were closed off. So Jesus moves on, but He will send His apostles back for a follow-up visit, after the Resurrection. At that time, their hearts might finally be open.

         Whether it is as individuals, or as group, God can continually deliver us from this temptation, of wanting to prove ourselves, or justify ourselves, to others. On our part, the first step is to lay claim to our weaknesses – just as Jesus did from the Cross – so that He can turn those places of weakness – into places of grace.
         This weekend – we ask God to grant us independence – from the temptation of always having to prove ourselves // to someone else. We know full well – that this independence – can only maintained by God’s grace.
         For when I am weak, then I am strong.

 

         Earlier this June, there was a budget meeting at the Capitol, in the House Budget Committee. A member of the Administration presents the budget proposal, and then answers questions from Members of Congress. A pretty routine affair.
         One Congressman asked about the language, in a certain line-item, to reduce disparities in maternal mortality, which is an ongoing issue in the US. Previous budgets used words such as ‘mother’, or ‘women’, but here the phrase used was ‘birthing people’. When asked what ‘birthing people’ meant, the Administration official noted that this would be more inclusive, to those who do not feel comfortable in either gender. The official conceded that ‘verbiage matters’, but the underlying issue of mortality was the real issue to focus upon.
         Indeed. Verbiage matters. Words matter.
         In our Gospel, we hear about an incredible day of healing: the 12-year old daughter of a synagogue official, and the adult woman affected by hemorrhages. In the healing of the adult woman, we hear that she touches the hem of Jesus’ garment, power goes out from Him, and Jesus turns around and asks ‘Who touched me’?
         Given Jesus’ stark question, his persistence in discovering who it was, and that she approached in fear and trembling, we might paint a certain picture of Jesus in this scene. We might imagine Him as being angry or annoyed, and He only calms down once the woman explains herself.
         A Benedictine monk from Italy, however, paints a different picture, which is faithful to the Word, and faithful to the Heart of Jesus. He comments: that the reason Jesus sought the woman out – is because the encounter was incomplete. To have a full encounter with Jesus, she needed to see His face: from which she could see His glance, and hear His words.
         And what are those words?

“Daughter, your faith has saved you.
Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”

         Jesus affirms who she is: a daughter of God. He affirms the great gift of faith that she already has, compared to the wavering faith of his own disciples. He affirms that she has been suffering – not just a physical ailment – but the psychic pain of being separated from others. Finally, he affirms His desire for her, to go in peace.
         Verbiage matters.
         The same dynamic plays out for the Jairus’ daughter. Jesus could have simply pronounced a cure from afar, but no, he goes with Jairus to be physically present to her, so that she can hear Jesus’ words, and see His glance when she awakens.
Talitha kum – little girl, arise. An even closer translation than ‘little girl’ might be ‘honey’ or ‘dear’ – tender, intimate words that only a parent would use for a child. And this makes sense, as God the Son relays the words of God the Father // to this daughter of His.
Because Jesus has taken on our flesh, as St. Paul talks about in the 2^nd Reading, Jesus can be attentive to simple bodily needs, like food, when He directs that she should be given something to eat.
          Jesus can also be attentive to suffering, through His Body: you and I. We can be present to others // in their suffering, whatever it may be: physical, psychological, or both. Our glance, and our words, which mirror the words of Jesus.
         There will be days, where we will get it wrong, we’ll be having a bad day ourselves, we won’t have the right words, or we won’t be the best icons of Christ. Yet – even if we’re not miracle-workers - we can at least be that sign, that presence, of Christ, to that person who is suffering. Suffering from something // not of their own making // wondering ‘why me’, just as the woman in the Gospel, or the parents of the little girl in the Gospel.
          Just as those persons are naturally asking ‘why me?’, we as Christians should be asking ourselves ‘why not me?’, in our call to mirror the face of Christ to others.
         Either today or this week, take this Gospel passage, and contemplate the face of Jesus throughout the various scenes. Imagine how His Holy Face appears, as He interacts with different people.
        As we contemplate His face, our own faces…start to shine a little more.
 

Franz Jägerstätter was born o­n 20th May 1907 in St. Radegund, Austria. as the child of the unmarried farm worker Rosalia Huber. She and the father could not afford to marry.

In 1917, his mother wedded the farmer Heinrich Jägerstätter, who o­n marrying her, adopted his wife’s son. Inspired by his grandfather, Franz showed great interest in books as an adolescent, including religious literature.
 
From 1927 to 1930, Franz Jägerstätter worked in the iron ore industry. There, he felt spiritually and religiously uprooted // and went through a crisis // which made him question his faith and the meaning of life. But, in 1930, he returned to his home village // with a deepened belief in God.

His development continued - he could brawl with the best of them, and was the first in his village to own a motorcycle. He came to father a daughter.
 
In 1935, he met Franziska Schwaninger, a farmer’s daughter from the neighboring village. They married o­n Holy Thursday, 1936. At his suggestion, they traveled to Rome for their honeymoon.

His marriage marked a turning point in Franz Jägerstätter’s life. According to his neighbors, he became a different man.

Together, Franz and Franziska ran a farm. They prayed together, and the Bible became their book of reference for everyday life. Franziska says of this time: “We helped o­ne another go forward in faith.” From 1941, Franz Jägerstätter was also the sexton at the local parish. Three daughters were born to the couple: Franz o­nce said: “I could never have imagined that being married could be so wonderful.”
 
Storm clouds came over his country, Austria, when the Nazis took power in 1938. He viewed Christianity and Nazism as being completely irreconcilable. Franz had a dream: in it, he saw a train carrying innumerable people to perdition, and its meaning was “unveiled” to him, as representing the Nazi Party, and its attached organizations.

He was conscripted for military service twice, but the local mayor arranged for him to return to farm. A third conscription notice came, and Jägerstätter reported o­n 1st March 1943, but as the court-martial reports, he immediately stated:
 

• “that, due to his religious views, he refused to perform military service with a weapon, that he would be acting against his religious conscience were he to fight for the Nazi State
• …that he could not be both a Nazi and a Catholic
• … that there were some things in which o­ne must obey God more than men;
• due to the commandment ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself’, he said he could not fight with a weapon. However, he was willing to serve as a military paramedic.”

 
Jägerstätter was then taken to the local military prison. Two months’ prison, with all the torture and bullying, precipitated a great crisis. The young farmer was in danger of losing his faith. Yet the experience of happiness with Franziska // remained with him // as a lasting sign of God’s presence.

At the beginning of May, Franz Jägerstätter was transferred to the military prison in Berlin-Tegel. He asked to be allowed to serve as a paramedic: this request was denied. On 6th July 1943, Franz was condemned to death for “undermining military morale” and was also “stripped of his worthiness to serve in the army and of his civil rights“.

Through a local priest, Franz learned that o­ne year before, another Austrian, Pallottine priest Father Reinisch had refused to perform military service for the same reasons, and died for his convictions. This news gave Franz support and comfort in his situation. The Eucharist, the Bible and a picture of his children were very important to him during this time.

On 9th August 1943, Franz Jägerstätter was taken to Brandenburg/Havel and executed. Forty +years later, he was beatified on 26th October 2007, with his wife and four daughters in attendance.

In our Gospel, we have the account of the disciples with Jesus, in the boat during a storm. Things become so serious, that they wake Jesus up, with a startling and bold question: ‘do you not care that we are perishing!’

Blessed Franz could have asked Jesus the same question, on multiple occasions. But he came to frame it in a different way: there are many ways in which I may die, but with God’s presence, I will not perish.

As our Gospel passage unfolds, a commentator concludes that Jesus came to deliver his disciples…but not from drowning. He came to deliver them from fear of the elements – to – the awe of God. Helping them cross over, from fear to awe.

On the day of his execution, a priest at the prison offered spiritual readings. With an unforgettable joy in his eyes, Jaggerstatter replied, “I am completely bound in // inner union with the Lord, and any reading would only interrupt my communication with my God.”

When the storms of life hit Blessed Franz, he was strengthened by God’s presence: present in the Eucharist, the Bible, his spouse and children, the martyrs, in his soul.

Blessed Franz Jägerstätter did not perish.

In fact, he lives.