Week 31 Wednesday (Year 2)

Readings: Philippians 2:12-18; Ps 26; Luke 14:25-33

Preachers and translators pull back from the word 'hate' in today's gospel reading. It is sometimes rendered 'prefer to me' or 'more than me'. But Jesus as recorded by St Luke is more radical and uncompromising on this necessary detachment if people are to follow him, than he is on the dangers of riches. In fact they are two aspects of the same thing. In spite of the tenderness and compassion of Jesus as we get to know him in Luke's gospel, there are these radical warnings as well, about riches, and about the need to hate even your own life if you want to follow him.

Jesus is not a purveyor of middle class values although he has sometimes been turned into that. He is not here to endorse the world as it is understood by those who are following him. He is strange and different. His call is not to us to find a place for him in our world - fit him in somehow alongside the other relationships and activities in which we are involved. His call is to us to follow him into his world where he has found a place for us. The call is not to squeeze him and his message into our world and what is acceptable to it - although, again, this is often what has been done. He calls us to follow him into his strange, new world.

Luke's gospel is the gospel of great reversals: hate those you are inclined to love; love those you are inclined to hate; first last, last first; humble exalted, exalted humbled; rich man and Lazarus; Pharisee and publican; elder brother and prodigal son. How can one be his disciple, then? It seems too difficult, too paradoxical, even a bit weird. How is one to anticipate the cost of following him, as the man does who wants to build a tower? How prepare sensibly to follow him, as the man does who decides to go out to battle? What he teaches us about the tower-builder and the war-maker is that they make preparations that are 'only sensible' if that is the kind of thing they want to do. In the case of following Jesus, what is 'only sensible' if we are preparing to follow him? Here is what you must do, he says: renoucne all you have, bear your own cross, hate what you are inclined to love, even your own life.

One thing is very clear here, in chapter 14 of St Luke's gospel. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem to suffer and to die. He is to be rejected by our world which cannot find a place for him, which finds his message too strange, too difficult, too puzzling. There are still 'great crowds' following him but this is not going to continue for much longer. We will spit him out. But that spitting out of Jesus by the world opens the way for the greatest reversal of all, the resurrection. Things are well and truly broken open, the world is turned upside down and inside out.

We are called to follow him into that mystery of the Great Reversal, the mystery of his death and resurrection. In being baptised, declaring ourselves Christian, we have taken it as the pattern of our lives, the criterion by which we will evaluate everything about ourselves, our experiences, our intentions, our motives, our relationships, our actions. Participating in the Eucharist means allowing this mystery of the Great Reversal to enter more deeply into us, tasting already (along with our fathers and mothers, wives and children, brothers and sisters, who share our faith) the gifts of the new world that is coming.

Inevitably we domesticate Jesus, turning him into a harmless pupply, a moralist at our disposal. Just as we domesticate God. His talk of hatred in today's gospel serves then to keep us awake, alert, uncertain, watching out for our God who is wild and free, ever new and creative in His infinite Love.

Week 31 Sunday (Year B)

Readings: Deuteronomy 6:2-6; Psalm 17; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 12:28-34

Some years ago an English actor did the round of theatres in Britain and Ireland with a one-man show. He simply spoke the King James version of St Mark's Gospel from beginning to end. As an actor, an interpreter of scripts, he brought out all kinds of subtleties and shades of colour that our normal public reading of scripture never captures. Where most liturgical reading is solemn and a bit monotonous, he illuminated the story in a remarkable way bringing out the humour, anger, irony, sarcasm, gentleness, poignancy, bitterness, and many other things that lie hidden in the text. It was a stunning performance.

So what about today's gospel reading from Mark, what moods or shades of colour might be found in it? The scribe seems a bit patronising or perhaps he is simply naive. Is he condescending? His repetition of Jesus' summary of the law adds to it and changes it in subtle ways: is he correcting the amateur rabbi from Galilee? Is there a barb in Jesus' answer - you are not far from the kingdom of God - effectively telling him that he has hit the nail on the side? Is this what the scribe is saying to Jesus, you got it almost exactly right? Is it what Jesus is saying to the scribe? How near is 'not far'?

The answer to that question depends on what we are talking about. Augustine in his Confessions tells about a moment when he was not far from the kingdom of God. His spiritual condition was like a man who from a wooded summit can glimpse the homeland of peace for which he has long searched, he has it now in his sights, but there is still the question of how to get into that kingdom from where he is. What will carry us across, bridge the gap, when a person is not far from the kingdom of God? For Augustine it is the cross of Christ by clinging to which he makes the journey from his viewing point, home to the kingdom. Charity is established in the humility of Christ, he says. If we want to live by the great commandment we must embrace the humility of Christ, his cross. Catherine of Siena speaks similarly about Christ as the bridge that carries us to the kingdom. There is a hostel at the bridge which is the Church where the Eucharist, Christ himself, is baked and offered to us as our food for the journey. The divinity is kneaded into the clay of our humanity.

We find a scriptural basis for such thoughts in the Letter to the Hebrews which we have been reading recently at Sunday Mass. It speaks of Jesus as our high priest who has opened the way for us by his sacrifice. He came into our flesh and in offering that flesh taken from us he enters the heavenly sanctuary carrying not the blood of animals but his own blood. There he eternally makes intercession for us. Trailing behind him is the way he has opened, the road to the throne of grace and mercy, the bridge, the cross, the Eucharist, the Church.

'Beautiful' is how we might translate the scribe's comment to Jesus when he summarises the great commandment: 'you are right'. Jesus sees that the scribe's answer is wise, intelligent. So perhaps there is more understanding between them than might seem at first. Love opens up the space in which the other can be, and can flourish. It begins with the understanding a person already has and invites him or her to embrace that understanding more fully, to test its depths, to see where its truth leads.

Of course another meaning of 'not far' is that it refers to the scribe's physical proximity to Jesus himself. In John's gospel the great commandment takes the form 'love one another as I have loved you'. The content of the new commandment is not a written law, not even a sacred and hallowed piece of scripture. Most of us can easily quote the text and tell others what the great commandment is . But its content is Jesus Christ, the one who has fulfilled the law in every detail. He loves the Father with all his heart, soul, mind, strength, and he loves his neighbour as himself. He shows us what these things involve but, more than that, he is the only teacher who can enable us to carry it out.

Week 31 Wednesday (Year 1)

 Readings: Romans 13:8-10; Psalm 112; Luke 14:25-33

You can listen here to a homily on today's gospel reading 

Week 31 Monday (Year 1)

Readings: Romans 11:29-36; Psalm 69; Luke 14:12-14

Today's first reading is the climax of another extraordinary and crucial section of Paul's Letter to the Romans. In chapters 9-11 he wrestles with this conundrum: why have the chosen people not realised that the fulfillment of the prophecies is in the death and resurrection of Jesus? He himself did not realise this at first and regarded the preaching of Christ as blasphemous. But in his experience on the road to Damascus he was not so much converted to a new religion as he was given a new insight into what had up to then remained hidden in the scriptures he had always loved. For those who have eyes to see. For those who read them in the light of Christ. He was blind, remember, and then he was made able to see.

Three times in these Romans 9-11 Paul uses phrases such as 'not at all', 'of course not' - almost 'don't be stupid'. Is there injustice on God's part in his election of the younger over the elder? 'By no means' (9:14), of course not. So in the way things are now unfolding, has God rejected his people? 'By no means' (11:1), not at all. Have they stumbled so as to fall? 'By no means' (11:11), don't be stupid.

What we are given in these chapters is a reading of the promises of God by Paul, a Pharisee, now that he has come to believe in Christ. He reads it all again, the law, the prophets and the writings, and interprets their teaching through what he has learned from Christ and about Christ, from his parables, from Christ's teaching of the Apostles, and from that personal encounter with Christ which Paul says entitles him too to be called an apostle. He works as he was originally trained to do, telling us again and again that things are happening 'as it is written', in Exodus, in the Psalms, in Isaiah.

This reading of the promises of the Bible is not obvious. There is something new in their fulfillment, something unexpected, a surprise never anticipated. It is, as Paul describes it here, a reversal of eschatology. What does that mean? The promises for the end time were that Zion would be restored and then the Gentiles would be gathered in. The Lord would restore his people in the place of his presence, where he had made his home, and then people would come from east and west, north and south. The riches of the Gentiles would be gathered in Jerusalem.

But what Paul has come to see is that these prophecies of the end time are being fulfilled but in reverse. The Gentiles are already being gathered in, and Zion will be restored. 'When the Gentiles are gathered in,', he says, 'then Israel too will be restored'. Israel - now the elder brother - must wait until the full number of the Gentiles come in 'and so all Israel will be saved' (11:25-26). God does not reject his people, he does not go back on his promises, he does not betray his covenants. At the same time God remains eminently free in his election. But it is God who never forgets the original purpose of that election, of those promises, of the covenants: that all the nations might be blessed. This was always Israel's vocation, to be the first-fruits, a sign to the nations, the roots of a tree that remains strong and alive but onto which the branches of the Gentiles are being grafted.

Who is entitled to be in? The answer is 'nobody'. The basis of entitlement, as today's gospel reading makes clear, is the host's call or invitation. Nothing more and nothing less. And the host is free to achieve his purpose in whatever ways he chooses. His purpose is the gathering in of all, the fullness of the Gentiles and all Israel. Our mistake is to look at the other guests and to think about them rather than looking at our Host, and then at them in His light. And finally, of course, at the wonder of the invitation we ourselves have received. How inscrutable God's judgements, how unsearchable his ways!

Week 31 Sunday (Year A)

Readings: Malachi 1.4b-2.2b, 8-10; Psalm 131; 1 Thessalonians 2.7b-9, 13; Matthew 23.1-12

Pope Francis speaks often of clericalism as one of the biggest problems the Church has to overcome. Some people, especially some priests, feel that he is too harsh in his criticisms, which they take to be directed against them, and that he is not as supportive of priests as were his two predecessors. But Francis has good precedents for his warnings in the readings today. The prophet Malachi weighs in against the priests who have misled the people, betraying the Lord's covenant. And Jesus in the gospel does the same. Listen to the scribes and Pharisees, he says, and do what they say, but do not follow their example, for there is no consistency between their words and their actions. They are more or less hypocritical: who among us can deny that he is more or less hypocritical?

Consistency between words and actions is one of the features of Jesus's own life which served to give him great authority. Of course there were miracles and exorcisms, also wonderful happenings, which left the people amazed, showed them there was something special going on. But so often we hear simply that 'he taught as one who had authority and not as the scribes and the Pharisees'. In Jesus there is no gap between words and actions but rather complete coherence, consistency, fidelity. In most people there are gaps between words and actions, especially in preachers of the gospel who nevertheless must continue to preach it because even if they do not fully live up to it themselves, perhaps someone listening will be helped to do so.

Jesus speaks of a good shepherd who will take care of his flock to the point of giving his life for it and we know that in his actions he will be this good shepherd. We know that he did in fact give his life for his flock, dying on the cross for the world's salvation. Paul speaks of his own participation in this, in the second reading, feeling like a mother towards the Thessalonians, a disposition which made him ready, following Jesus, to give to them not just his time and his energy but his very life itself.

So Jesus speaks with unique authority about God, about human life, about the way in which we need to live in order to enter into life. His words are convincing because his actions followed perfectly on them. He is our father / mother, our teacher, our guide, the one it is essential for us to come to know.

In the gospel Jesus refers to the scribes and Pharisees 'sitting on the chair of Moses'. There is a lovely phrase in the Christian tradition, mentioned here before, which describes Jesus on the cross sicut magister in cathedra, like a professor on his chair, like a teacher at his lectern, like a preacher in his pulpit. This is his subject, the subject on which he is the world's authority for all time: the truth about God and about humanity, the reality of sin and its consequences, the reality of the divine love revealed in him  and which takes away the sins of the world. He is our guide, our teacher, our father / mother, calling us to follow him, to make our actions cohere with our words, and to give our lives, in our turn, in love for our brothers and sisters.

Week 31 Sunday (Year C)

Readings: Wisdom 11:22-12:2; Psalm 145; 2 Thess 1:11-2:2; Luke 19:1-10

How did the story of Zaccheus become a story for children? One reason, I suppose, is because he is a small fellow. We are given his name, which is not the case with all the people we meet in the gospels. He also goes in for climbing trees, which children like to do. In England religious education at key stages 1 and 2 has a section entitled ‘Who was Zaccheus?’ Instructions to the teachers about this module include this health and safety warning: ‘children should know that climbing trees can be dangerous’. We will see that encountering Jesus is dangerous also, it will not leave us unchanged.

Zaccheus is unpopular and without friends and presumably feels lonely: perhaps these are other reasons why he will win the sympathy of children who themselves often feel this way. As a small fellow he is easily mocked. As a senior tax-collector he is despised and probably feared. He is someone, it seems, with no friends, and so of particular concern to Jesus.

But sentiment can dull the edge of the story and its challenge. Zaccheus is a complicated figure. He is mocked and despised but he is rich: perhaps his wealth has actually cushioned him from loneliness? How will he relate to Jesus? How will Jesus relate to him? We are reading Luke’s gospel, in which Jesus is critical of the rich, warning frequently of the dangers inherent in being rich.

The enthusiasm of Zaccheus in running up the tree to see what kind of man Jesus was is matched by the desire of Jesus for the well-being of Zaccheus. Jesus focuses not on his past, or on his present predicament, but on their future relationship. Everybody complains: this must include the disciples. But Zaccheus is stubborn in his determination to be with Jesus, so stubborn in this that he frees himself of his wealth in order to fulfill his desire.

Jesus’ treatment of Zaccheus teaches a number of things:

• Don’t judge by appearances, prejudice, or categories. We must allow ourselves to be surprised, by people, and certainly by God’s ways.
• Don’t presume to think that we have cracked the mystery of divine grace. It is infinitely patient and endlessly creative. 'Little by little', as the first reading says, God seeks to draw sinners back to himself.
• The rich man can get through the eye of the needle but not without radical change. We see the small man who is a tax-collector, the rich man who is a sinner. But Jesus sees a son of Abraham, a child of God, one of the lost he has come to seek out and to save.

If there is danger in climbing trees there is a joyful danger in encountering Jesus. If it is a true encounter it will not leave us unchanged. Like Zaccheus before his adventure on the sycamore tree, we might think of ourselves as alive, rich and secure, but the encounter with the Lord lights up the ways in which we are dead, poor and vulnerable. But this is not the last word, the last word is joy and salvation as he teaches us how to be alive, how to be rich, how to be courageous even if we feel we are only little. We can pray in the words of the second reading, for all the Zaccheuses in the world, as also for ourselves, 'may God make you worthy of his calling, and powerfully bring to fulfillment every good purpose and every effort of faith'.