Homily:
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
As human beings, we love a
good argument, don’t we? Now, I don’t
mean that we go out looking to pick a fight, or anything, but simply that,
given the chance to make a point and defend it, we almost readily jump in. Perhaps we’re on the side of a conversation
and we only hear the topic being discussed.
Sometimes, if it’s a topic we think we know something about, that’s all
the spark that we need to get our motors running! Soon, we’re inserting ourselves into that
conversation to show our knowledge and make our point. It doesn’t take much to “bait” us into an
argument, either. A provocative question
asked of us can launch us right into an argument: whether that be about
something noble and important, like politics, faith, or family life, or something
mundane, like sports, fashion, or home maintenance.
Why? Well, because it’s so easy! We human beings are so full of pride that we
almost can’t resist an opportunity to boost our pride by jumping into an
argument to prove our point. Sometimes,
it’s the vice of pride, outright. Most
of the time, it’s our own need to bolster our sense of self-worth: that is, our
need to feel like we had something important to say and that what we said was
valuable to others (which is a different sort of pride). Either way, these natural impulses make it so
easy to “bait” us into arguments.
Thus, the scene in our Gospel
reading today should feel very familiar to us.
This “scholar of the law” approaches Jesus—the “upstart” rabbi—to see
whether he really knows his stuff, and he tries to bait him into an
argument. On the surface, the question
“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” seems innocent enough. We must remember, however, that this was THE
question that rabbis constantly debated.
For a “scholar of the law” to ask it of a rabbi was to say “I’m ready to
spar. How about you?”
Jesus’ response, however,
demonstrates that he “practiced what he preached”. At one point he taught his disciples: “Be
shrewd as serpents, yet simple as doves”.
Here he’s being shrewd. The
scholar wants to invite him into a debate on the finer points of Mosaic Law,
but Jesus doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. Thus, shrewdly, he turns the bait back on the
scholar: “You know the law, don’t you?
What does it say?” The scholar
takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker, and rattles off the highest of all the
Mosaic laws: Love God and love your neighbor.
Jesus, with the simplicity of a dove, affirms him and says, “Yep, that’s
it! Do this and you will have eternal
life”.
The scholar, however, was not
satisfied that he hadn’t gotten the better of Jesus (see how our pride can get
the best of us!) and he makes another salvo: “Who is my neighbor?” Again, he’s asking “Who does the Law say is
my neighbor?” The scholar knew the
answer, of course, and Jesus knew that he already knew the answer. Therefore, again, shrewdly, Jesus responds
not by giving the scholar the knowledge that he challenged Jesus to produce,
but by giving him a “case study” in which his answer can be found: the parable
of the “Good Samaritan”. For Jesus,
there wasn’t a black-and-white legal definition to the question of “who is my
neighbor?”, rather, there was only the definition of compassion. “Your neighbor” is the one whom you encounter
who is in need of mercy.
In the question “Which of
these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robber’s victim?”, the
scholar recognizes that Jesus’ shrewdness has defeated him and so concedes his
argument about the finer points of the law to acknowledge what the law looks
like in application. Realizing that
Jesus is a legitimate rabbi and, thus, with his pride deflated, the scholar no
longer challenges Jesus with these “debate” questions. Being an optimist, I like to believe that eventually
he accepted Jesus as the Messiah and put into practice what Jesus had taught
him. ///
“Who is my neighbor?” What a question for our time! And Jesus’ response is the message that we
need to hear today. Look no further than
the news and you’ll see that this question is at the center of a debate that,
literally, is raging around the world right now. Nations all over the world are arguing over
the question of what to do with immigrants, especially those seeking refuge
from oppressive living conditions in their native lands. I don’t presume to know an answer; but I
think that if we could find the compassion to call these persons “neighbor” instead
of “immigrant”, we’d be more apt to find a common answer. Perhaps closer to home, still: in cities all
over the U.S. (and even here in Lafayette), the question about what to do with
the homeless in our cities is a difficult one.
I am certain, however, that if we could find the compassion to call them
“neighbor” instead of “homeless”, we’d be more apt to find a common answer.
This parable of Jesus
challenges us to leave our comfort zones and to encounter those around us in
need of mercy. If you’ve been paying
attention at all, this has been the constant message of Pope Francis since the
beginning of his pontificate, which is a particular form of the message of the
Second Vatican Council: that is, to take the Gospel and go out into the
world. Out from our churches, schools,
and offices. Out to encounter those who
need not only to hear this message of salvation, but to experience it through
our merciful love of them.
We know this, of course, but
Jesus’ challenge to the scholar confronts us again today: “Go and do
likewise”. As Moses told the Israelites
before crossing into the Promised Land, “You know what God expects of you; you
have only to do it”, so Jesus challenges the scholar (and, through him, all of
us): “You know now what is expected.
Only if you do it, however, will you live”. Friends, knowledge of this is not
enough. Necessary, of course, but not
enough! Rather, we must put this
knowledge into action: showing that God is merciful by loving those whom he
loves, those in need of merciful help around us.
This all starts somewhere
deeper, however, and our Gospel reading reveals this to us. The story begins with the scholar of the
Mosaic Law looking to bait Jesus into an argument. Jesus, however, looked at him and treated him
with mercy. He saw the scholar’s pride
and shrewdly countered it. He did not
rub it in the scholar’s face, however.
Rather, with the simplicity of a dove, he challenged him to go beyond
his knowledge and put it into practice.
My friends, we must do the same.
We must stop our polarized bickering whose only conclusion is “my side
must win or all has been lost”. Rather,
we must call each other “neighbor”—even and
especially when we disagree with each other—and, thus, treat each other
with mercy. Like Jesus, we must be
“shrewd as serpents”, for he is not asking us to roll over to every person with
wicked intent, but we must also be “simple as doves”, treating each other as
Jesus treated the scholar: with a humble and compassionate hand.
My friends, this is the mercy
that we encounter here in the Mass. We
come here, convicted of our sinfulness and of our unworthiness to receive God’s
grace. Yet, we are invited to this feast
of God’s grace. God does not ignore our
sinfulness; but, because we demonstrate our desire to turn away from it, he
offers us his merciful love in spite of it.
In other words: yes, we are sinful, but here our sins are not rubbed in
our face. Instead, God has compassion on
us, cares for us, and then gently challenges us to go beyond our sins to bring
his compassion and mercy to others. May
the mercy that we receive today here in this Mass fill us with every strength
to be ministers of God’s mercy in our world today.
Given at St. Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – July 13th
& 14th, 2019
No comments:
Post a Comment