Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

The entrance hymn today is Christian, Do You Hear the Lord, and the recessional hymn is Christ Is the World’s Light. Both of these seem to be relatively obscure, not found in the usual places on the interwebs. Maybe they’re exclusive to the Worship Hymnal? I keep meaning to actually buy a hard copy, since, although they in fact publish it, Worship is not one of the search-able hymnals on Gia’s online hymnal site HymnPrint.net.

In the first reading, there’s Midian yet again. I’ve wondered before about Midian, so some proper research later will find me, from the Columbia Encyclopedia, 6th edition, from the entry for Gideon:

The Book of Judges relates that Gideon was a strong opponent of the Baal cult. He defeated the Midianite oppressors and appeased the rival Ephraimites, thus securing a generation of peace for Israel. His decisive action gave rise to the phrase “Day of Midian,” which came to denote Israelite victory over her enemies.

So now we know.

It’s interesting to contrast the first reading from Isaiah:

First the Lord degraded the land of Zebulun
and the land of Naphtali;
but in the end he has glorified the seaward road,
the land west of the Jordan,
the District of the Gentiles.

Anguish has taken wing, dispelled is darkness:
for there is no gloom where but now there was distress.
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom
a light has shone.

With the quoting thereof from today’s gospel:

When Jesus heard that John had been arrested,
he withdrew to Galilee.
He left Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum by the sea,
in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali,
that what had been said through Isaiah the prophet
might be fulfilled:
Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,
the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan,
Galilee of the Gentiles,
the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light,
on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death
light has arisen.

From that time on, Jesus began to preach and say,
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

It’s always so interesting when the New Testament so specifically refers to the old, when the authors of the Gospels are really trying so hard to prove that this is the real thing, everything that’s been promised. And then when the quoting, in our translation anyway, is not quite exact. They could cheat, you know, the translators and publishers nowadays. Make it exact, make the way to the sea into the seaward road. Make it land of gloom instead of land overshadowed by death. But they don’t. I’m glad they don’t.

Father Caulfield is presiding over the mass today, per usual for the Latin, but Monsignor Jameson is with us as well. He’s sitting over with the lectors, so he’s not concelebrating or anything. So I expect he’ll give the homily. But then Father Caulfield heads over to give the homily. But then he doesn’t give a homily really, rather he just introduces a recorded message from the Archbishop, appealing to us to give. To the Archbishop’s Appeal, of course. Then Monsignor takes over at the ambo/lectern/pulpit/whatever and walks us through filling out the appeal form, line by line.

Leaving after mass we see Andy with Emily, who’s getting so big. In the fourth grade this year. Her little sister Clara is four now. Her mom Kate is still teaching at American.

Then Dr. Rousseau walks by and grabs my arm, asking my name once again. She’s giving the lecture on the art in the cathedral next week. Not in the cathedral this time, though, but up at Montgomery College. When she gave it in the cathedral years ago when the restoration was finally finished, the screen for the slide show wouldn’t stay up. So Chris McCullough and I had to stand on either side and hold it up. Was of course physically tiring after a while, but worst thing was that we couldn’t see the slides. We were there but we kinda missed the whole thing.