33rd Sunday Year C - Homily 4

 

Homily C - 33 

Last Tuesday evening we had a total eclipse of the moon. I did not see it myself, though I looked for it. I must have been in the wrong place or looking for it at the wrong time — or it might have been concealed by the cloud-bank along the horizon to the East.

In Jesus’ time, events such as eclipses tended to terrify ordinary people who had no scientific knowledge of astronomy. Many of them believed the sun, the moon and the stars to be controlled by supernatural powers, by good or bad angels or the like. They had little or no knowledge of the causes of plagues or of famines or of earthquakes, and most people believed them too to be controlled by malign or arbitrary supernatural powers.

Wars, too, were quite beyond their control, and were decided by kings and emperors, over whom they had little or no influence. Ordinary citizens certainly did not elect them. In Jesus’ day, the Roman Emperor was even regarded by some as a god.

Not unexpectedly, their ignorance often led them to read unusual events, especially destructive ones, as supernatural signs of the displeasure of the angels or demons or of gods or of God. They were inclined to read them as warnings — but weren’t sure of what.

Most of the very early Christians expected Jesus to return soon to the world in his role as the Son of Man. By the time that the Gospels were written, Jesus had still not shown up. People were restless. So the Gospel writers made a point of recording the few comments Jesus had made before his death in relation to his Second Coming. Essentially those comments were to the effect that there will be no signs of his return. Life would go on as usual, with all the usual things happening as they always did — plagues, famines, earthquakes, revolutions and wars.

Disciples’ task was to do what was in their power to make the world, and particularly human society, more amenable; and to accept responsibility for what they could do to change the world for the good. Jesus’ vision, his moral message, for what he called the Kingdom was essentially for life this side of the grave. The afterlife could be left in the hands of God whom he identified as Father, a radically merciful Father.

Jesus’ message for life meanwhile in the Kingdom was that we learn to love one another — everyone. That message in its own way was quite revolutionary. It still is. So revolutionary that during the twenty centuries since the time of Jesus, most Christians seem not to have taken much notice of it. But Jesus seriously meant it, and insisted on it. He knew that it would rattle people, particularly those who pride themselves on their power and sense of superiority and entitlement. He freely accepted the virtual inevitability of his insistence being rejected or ignored. They killed him, and did so with quite fierce cruelty. He specifically warned his disciples to be ready to accept a similar response to their faithfulness to him — as we heard today, “You will be betrayed, even by parents and brothers, relations and friends; and some of you will be put to death.”

Is it worth it then? We are so used to meeting disagreement with hostility, even violence. It seems the only sensible, even responsible approach. Might our attitudes slowly change if we seriously searched for, learnt and put into practice peaceable and effective alternatives to resolve differences respectfully in the myriad ordinary interactions of life? There are alternatives to “win/lose”.

Pope Francis is doing his best to encourage us in the Church to do just that. He calls it synodality; and it begins with listening to the other, stating our own mind clearly and non-aggressively, and searching for what we can both agree to. The sting is that we prioritise “we” over “me”. The ideal context in which to practise may be in the family.