First Martyrs of Rome

Ancient Roman anti-Christian graffito

Click here for today’s Scripture readings.

Amos 5:14-15, 21-24
Matthew 8:28-34

History is full of scapegoats. The first martyrs of Rome are yet another example.

In July of 64 AD more than half of Rome was destroyed by fire. Rumors, most probably untrue, began to spread in the city that the Emperor Nero, who was hugely unpopular, had set the fire. The Roman (non-Christian) historian Tacitus takes up the story:

Yet no human effort, no princely largess nor offerings to the gods could make that infamous rumor disappear that Nero had somehow ordered the fire. Therefore, in order to abolish that rumor, Nero falsely accused and executed with the most exquisite punishments those people called Christians, who were infamous for their abominations. The originator of the name, Christ, was executed as a criminal by the procurator Pontius Pilate during the reign of Tiberius; and though repressed, this destructive superstition erupted again, not only through Judea, which was the origin of this evil, but also through the city of Rome, to which all that is horrible and shameful floods together and is celebrated. Therefore, first those were seized who admitted their faith, and then, using the information they provided, a vast multitude were convicted, not so much for the crime of burning the city, but for hatred of the human race. And perishing they were additionally made into sports: they were killed by dogs by having the hides of beasts attached to them, or they were nailed to crosses or set aflame, and, when the daylight passed away, they were used as nighttime lamps. Nero gave his own gardens for this spectacle and performed a Circus game, in the habit of a charioteer mixing with the plebs or driving about the racecourse. Even though they were clearly guilty and merited being made the most recent example of the consequences of crime, people began to pity these sufferers, because they were consumed not for the public good but on account of the fierceness of one man.

The term scapegoat refers to individuals or peoples who are symbolically or concretely made to bear responsibility for the faults or problems of others. Scapegoating typically arises from real social, political, ideological, cultural, or economic power struggles. Scapegoats are frequently less powerful and more marginalized. This makes them easier targets. As an already unpopular and misunderstood minority, early Christians in 1st century Rome made perfect scapegoats.

This story of the Neronian martyrs is particularly interesting to Passionists because the gardens of the Passionist Monastery of Saints John and Paul in Rome were once Nero’s gardens, the very ones mentioned in Tacitus. I don’t think this connection is coincidental. As Passionists we are called to stand with the crucified of today. We have to ask, “Who are the crucified, the scapegoats in our society?”

Clearly, immigrants are one such group. They are blamed for societal problems like drugs and unemployment because it is easier to scapegoat than to take the hard steps that are necessary to really fix our economy or address our country’s insatiable appetite for drugs.

Today, as we remember the first martyrs of Rome let’s also commit ourselves to building a society where we are less inclined to scapegoat, but instead, in the words of the prophet Amos, “let justice surge like water, and goodness like an unfailing stream.”

Sister Mary Ann Strain, CP lives in Union City, NJ and helps represent the Passionists at the United Nations.

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul

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Acts 12:1-11
2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18
Matthew 16:13-19

Tradition tells us that Peter died by crucifixion the way slaves were crucified, his head near the ground. Archeologists confirm his martyrdom around the year 67 on Vatican Hill where Constantine later built a basilica. Paul was beheaded, also around 67 not far from where Peter died, according to Tertullian who wrote in the year 200.

The Feast of Peter and Paul was celebrated as early as 354. We put the two saints comfortably side by side, two apostles cut from different cloth, men of some contradiction, but none the less foundation stones of the community that follows Jesus. They are pieces that fit together in an amazing unity.

Matthew places upon Peter layers of dignity. His Jewish audience must have loved the subtle references surrounding Peter, who comes with Jesus to Caesarea Philippi, a place referred to in sacred writings as a place where holy men are gifted with visions of God. Peter is in the right place! Isaiah (51:1-2) says, “Look to the rock from which you were hewn, to the pit from which you were quarried; Look to Abraham, your father and to Sarah who gave you birth…”. How blessed is Peter! And Isaiah also speaks of the key of authority taken from an undeserving servant and given to Eliakim, who will be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem: “I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder; when he opens no one shall shut, when he shuts, no one shall open.”

But a few verses beyond today’s reading, Jesus says that he will suffer, die and be raised up. After Peter tells Our Lord that such a dreary expectation would best be avoided, Our Lord says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan. You are a stumbling block to me because you think the things not of God but of men.”

What a surprise for Matthew’s readers! Our rock is a stumbling block. Our Messiah one who suffers.

On this feast of the two Apostles it would seem that Peter is getting top billing, (The Acts of the Apostles tells a story of Peter also) but Paul’s words in the Second Letter to Timothy, although few, carry great weight: “I stayed in the race until the finish line, I fought a good fight, I kept the faith. The Lord stood by me in my work and I have looked for His appearing with eager longing. To Him be glory!”

Paul tell us that, although he expected the Lord’s appearance, it has not happened, but he none the less waits faithfully, like a exhausted, sweaty runner who finishes the race, maybe far back in the pack, but he endured to the end; it was a good fight, Paul doesn’t say that he won, maybe it is the moment of the official’s decision? But he can’t lose even if the decision goes against him, for he knows he fought the good fight. And he knows too the Lord who chose him, stood by him in the hard work of his calling.

Peter and Paul did not have it all together. They would have liked to have done a few things over and differently like all of us. The Lord lovingly polishes these stones and places them side by side. His work ultimately shows forth a unity that gives us peace and confidence.

We pray today in the preface of the Mass,

“Peter, our leader in the faith, and Paul, its fearless preacher.
Peter raised up the church from the faithful flock of Israel.
Paul brought your call to the nations, and became the teacher of the world.”

Each in his own way gathered into unity the one family of Christ.

Father Bill Murphy, C.P. is the pastor of St. Joseph Monastery  Passionist Parish in Baltimore, Maryland.

Memorial for Saint Irenaeus, Bishop and Martyr

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Amos 2:6-10, 13-16
Matthew 8:18-22

Some things that we face in life are relatively simple to figure out. The choice is clear. One option is obviously death-dealing and disastrous. The other is life-giving and enhancing. But other parts of our lives are much more difficult to figure out. Irony, paradox, dilemma – these are words that convey struggle, sleepless nights, Jacob-wrestling — no easy solution is at hand. When we encounter the complex, we turn to God and pray for the virtue of prudence, the ability to seek opinions and evidence, to weigh things well, and to decide with some measure of wholesome choice and courage.We also pray for the Holy Spirit and the gift of wisdom. The ancients often spoke about keeping a balance — Aristotle and Aquinas affirm that virtue stands in the middle. Holy men and women prayed for a kind of equipoise of mind, heart, and spirit. Equipoise – what a lovely word for life today!

Another pathway leads us into a new clearing. We constantly are trying to discern how to live with creative tension. We are saints and sinners, body and spirit, yearning for the transcendent and deeply committed to the warp and woof of daily life. If we engage the tasks of life with integrity and honesty, we may find that tensions can turn into creative energies.

I think that Saint Irenaeus knew all this firsthand. Born in Smyrna around 130, Irenaeus found inspiration for his Christian life in the life and witness of Saint Polycarp. He served as priest and bishop in Lyon in Gaul. He died in 202. During these years he faced some daunting tasks and wrestled with some very difficult issues. Two issues stand out. First, what books of Sacred Scripture were authentically God’s Word? What texts made up the canon of Holy Writ? This was no small mater. It touched on the identity of the Christian church. Irenaeus stood with the living tradition of the church and helped shape the canon of authentic biblical texts.

Irenaeus also engaged Gnosticism head on. Gnostics, i.e., those literally good at knowing, set themselves up as superior Christians. Irenaeus unveiled their teachings, offered a refutation, and carved out the pathway to orthodoxy. He truly turned tension into creative energy. As a result, his teaching promoted truth.

The life and the work of Irenaeus are instructive for today. We live in a multicultural world. Many values vie for our allegiance. We live in a multilingual world. The alphabet of orthodoxy is not readily discernible. We live in a pluralistic world. What does it mean for us to be intelligent and competent disciples of the Lord? What does it mean to live with tension and to discover creative energy?

Two things are necessary. Father David Hollenbach, the Jesuit moral theologian, speaks about intellectual solidarity and epistemological humility. At first, both might seem terribly abstract terms. But both terms are helpful for our discipleship today. First: intellectual solidarity. This means that each of us does serious thinking about what it means to live the good life in our world. It means a commitment to respectful conversation and civil discussion with others. It entails critical reflection on human experience and the sources of our faith. It calls forth a willingness to dialogue with the hope of finding common ground. It requires forthright speech and the pursuit of truth. Listening and speaking are key qualities in this endeavor.

Second, cognitive or epistemological humility. This means that all of us, Christians and others, admit humbly that no one of us has all the answers, that no one is a know-it-all. It entails a common pursuit of knowledge and insight. It calls for inquiry that is rooted in a wonder that pays attention to how all kinds of peoples learn the truth together and an experience of co-humanity that engages others respectfully. It refuses to point fingers at others and it demands profound commitment to the truth of one’s tradition.

Saint Irenaeus invites us today to take up the task for today, to live the truth of the Gospel and the kingdom with humility and solidarity, to stand before God with the hope for a new humanism for the sake of the world.

Father John J. O’Brien, C.P. lives in Framingham, MA.