22nd Sunday Year B - Homily 2

Homily 2 - 2015

Today is Refugee and Migrant Sunday. And here am I up front talking about it. I feel quite phoney, because I do so little about the plight particularly of Refugees. I feel for them to some extent, which only makes things worse. Why do I do so little, beyond signing an occasional online petition? Is it a kind of “Refugee Fatigue: It’s too hard; it’s too unpopular; I’m tired of feeling guilty?” I’m not quite sure where my energy has gone.

All three of today’s Readings had me thinking about the issue of refugees. In the first, Moses was addressing the migrating Hebrew slaves fleeing from oppression and injustice in Egypt, just before they invaded the already-occupied Holy Land. No “With your permission, please!” They needed somewhere. The nearest region was not suitable – they had been wandering around the Sinai Peninsula for forty years. They just forcibly took over the next suitable place.

The Second Reading identified “pure, unspoilt religion, in the eyes of God our Father” as practical help of the powerless and oppressed. And, like any decent father, God does not have favourites among his children – all alike have equal dignity and value; though, again like any decent father, God does take particular interest in, and directs his energy towards, those most in need, to those struggling against oppression and injustice.

The Gospel today looked at Pharisees, men who genuinely tried to make every action of their day remind them of their God, just as we used to bless ourselves before eating or praying, bow our heads at the name of Jesus, genuflect on entering the church, refrain from eating meat on Fridays, etc.. Jesus had no problem with wanting to bring God into everyday life, but his question was more, “Who is the God you seek to honour? And what are God’s priorities?” Jesus wanted every action of his day to remind him of his Father, too; but his Father looked beyond familiar practices to people’s hearts. In fact, Jesus’ Father was a God of mercy, and Jesus sought to make every action of his day an expression of mercy flowing out from his own heart. And he thought the Pharisees could well do the same.

Our nation claims that by turning back the boats, asylum seekers have been saved from drowning. That is true. But what is the motivation? What is going on in our hearts? Does our action flow from a deep and beautiful concern for refugees’ lives and dignity? Or do we simply not want them inconveniently seeking our mercy and protection? After all, they might disturb in some way our well-ordered ways and our comfortable standard of living.

It is hard to know what to do, and why. Why can we not simply admit as much, and not pretend to be righteous? The world is facing unprecedented strain from vast numbers of people seeking asylum from oppression in their home countries. There are literally millions of them, desperate and helpless. Though most of them at the moment are fleeing armed conflict, many are increasingly being displaced by a deteriorating environment that can no longer support them. And we might well ask, Who is supplying the arms? And who is responsible for the deteriorating environment?

Global political decisions are beyond us. But democratic governments are to some extent influenced by the educated opinions of their populations. If we care to ignore the steadily worsening situation, we might well ask, What is motivating our ignorance? What is motivating our failure to engage? What is going on in our hearts? Our hearts - that is where God’s attention is directed.

The world’s problems are interconnected. Pope Francis thinks we are increasingly treating people and the material world as objects, commodities for the enjoyment of the lucky, the wealthy and the powerful. He says that we need to get to know our hearts. I need what Francis calls a “contemplative conversion”.