6th Sunday Year C - Homily 2

Homily 2 - 2019

There is no doubt that Jesus was consistent towards the underdog. Luke had first introduced Jesus’ mission by choosing to describe Jesus' encounter with his fellow villagers at Nazareth. There Jesus had applied to himself the verse from the prophet Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord … has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim liberty to captives, and the Lord’s Year of Favour”.

Jesus himself, of course, would have been no doubt well schooled by his mother. Luke had presented the still pregnant Mary proclaiming how God had looked upon his lowly handmaid and had done great things for her; and how she had exulted in that same God who had pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly, had filled the hungry with good things and the rich sent empty away, and who, ever mindful of his mercy, had finally come to the help of Israel his servant.

Now, as he proceeded to introduce his outline of Jesus’ teaching, Luke had Jesus begin with the confronting Beatitudes, “How happy are you who are poor; yours is the kingdom of God. Happy you who are hungry now; you shall be satisfied. Happy you who weep now; you shall laugh”.

In predicting radical change for the poor, what was Jesus up to? Well, your guess is as good as mine. However, it strikes me that Jesus’ first interest was to place hope in the hearts of his hearers. Upwards of ninety percent of Jesus’ rural audience would have been poor, regularly going to bed at night hungry, and having plenty to weep about. For them to take any steps themselves to better their lot, they needed firstly to be given hope. They needed to find room within their constricted possibilities to make the most of what was at least already there. They needed to know their innate dignity as human persons, loved unconditionally and intensely by God their Father. They needed consistently to care for each other, to interact with attention and compassion, to avoid violence in their relationships, perhaps even to mature to the stage where they might begin to organise and, with all their limitations, to stand tall together non-violently to challenge and to conscientise their unjust oppressors.

Nearly all Jesus’ teaching was little more than teasing out the consequences of people mutually loving in a myriad variety of circumstances. Yet it worries me that, in the Church, we in today’s more developed world seem to have lost something of that priority of constantly infusing society with the spirit of mutually caring, of warmly welcoming, of being alert and responsive to those in particular need – the homeless, the disabled and the unwell, and the elderly. We need to remind ourselves and others that taxation is a necessary way to share the burden together and to provide the material infrastructure we need to function smoothly. When people do get into trouble [and so often, it seems, it is the mentally disabled and socially disadvantaged who do], it strikes me as so unimaginative that the best we can come up with is longer and harsher penalties, and ever more gaols. We are mesmerised by what we call justice, but in reality is little more than vengeance and punishment; and we are so slow even to investigate and experiment with, much less generally adopt, other approaches such as restorative justice that aim both to rehabilitate offenders and to give victims satisfactory closure.

As conscious and vigilant disciples of Jesus, there is so much we could contribute to the welfare of our common-wealth. But to do so effectively, we need to be shot through with the vision and commitment of Jesus [and Mary]. We begin by respecting ourselves. As well, we need to be convinced of the dignity of every human person, and choose, and learn how, to love them responsibly. As a faith community, can we find practical ways to alert and to support each other in our common mission?