Homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012
Our first reading introduces us to a widow in crisis. Her words reflect her despair: “I was
collecting a couple of sticks to go and prepare something for myself and my
son; when we have eaten it, we shall die."
She sounds entirely defeated – overwhelmed and overcome by the
desperation of her situation.
While we may not have faced circumstances that are as severe
as the widow, we can all identify to an extent, at least, with her
exasperation, can’t we? With that
feeling that more is being asked than we can give: A co-worker is saying something outrageous
for the thousandth time. A baby is up
again screaming in the middle of the night.
The project that is due in a few hours was erased from the hard
drive. Illness or old age has made a
simple task into an ordeal. Someone is
yelling because despite best intentions the ball was dropped. A loved one deprives us of their affection
and leaves us feeling alone and unwanted.
In those dark moments, life can begin to appear to us to be
just a prolonged experience of having things taken away. Take, take, take – why is God taking
everything away that I care about?
Doesn’t he love me?
It was into this kind of desperation that Isaiah entered
when he encountered that poor widow in Zarephath. With gentleness, he reassured the widow: “Do not be afraid – instead of clinging to
what you love, who you love – give what is asked by God and trust that your
sacrifice will not be in vain, you will not be abandoned in your need.”
And we need this gentle encouragement, don’t we?
Because how easy it is to begin to cling to the things of
this world, the gifts we have been given, as if they were meant to be
eternal! How easily this gravely
mistaken, this irrational expectation, can sneak its way into the back of our
minds. And when it does, increasingly
the many gifts we receive from our loving Father become a source of agony and
pain. God’s gifts to us in this world
are temporary - a mere foreshadowing, a preparation for the eternal life, for
the great gifts that he has in store for us,
that he wants to give us. And so
when we cling, we cling to nothing but shadows, to sand that slips between our
fingers. And what results? Anger and frustration and bitterness and
resentment start to take hold. Fear and
anxieties begin to overshadow the experience of life. And often a kind of denial sets in: a life occupied by mindless entertainment,
gossip, small-talk, and political junkying , escape to the sensual and
self-medication - anything to avoid the
passing reality of this world.
Yet the more we cling or try to avoid letting go, the more
we are deprived of peace. And our faith
is seriously compromised because rather than perceiving God as he truly is, the
giver of all good gifts, the things of this world distort our sight so that God
is perceived as a threat to happiness, the one who takes away what we love and
destroys what we cherish.
Jesus is the truth and the light: he comes to free us from
the deceptions of the evil one and to show us the truth about this passing
world. In the Gospel today Jesus
encourages us, he seeks to inspire us to follow the true way to the Father, the
way to find lasting joy in this life.
He teaches us that the earthly gifts that God gives us are not meant to
be clung to, as if they contained within themselves the key to happiness, but that they are meant to be
freely offered back to our Father in love and so become a means of
participation in the love of the Triune God and source of lasting peace and joy
for us.
And so we see why Christ was so hard on the scribes and
Pharisees: their actions demonstrated that their sacrifices, their pious and
religious practices were superficial and not true offerings, that their hearts
were still clinging to the things of this earth: to wealth, to reputation, to
comfort or pleasure.
They were offerings made in view of earthly success, not
made for the love of God. That is why in
another place Jesus instructs us to make offerings, to pray and give alms in
secret – because he wants us to have the joy that he has, the joy of a pure
offering that is not tainted by self-interest. True happiness is found in being able to
offer God something personal, a real part of ourselves and to offer it to him
and to him alone: and that is the joy that he wants us to have, the joy of his
Son Jesus who offers his whole life to the Father for our salvation freely and
without condition. Body and Blood, soul
and divinity, Jesus offers himself to the Father - not resenting his Father for
the cross or us, his brothers and sisters who he heals and strengthens through
his sacrifice. No - he offers his life
to the Father for us and it gives him joy to offer it because he loves us. For Christ, the cross was an invitation,
granted a painful and scary one, but an blessed invitation nonetheless, to show
his love for the Father and for us.
That is what our Lord saw in those two small coins offered
by the widow - love. He saw behind the
coins to her heart, her livelihood that she was offering freely to God. And this from a woman from whom so much had
already been taken.
Yet she showed no signs of resentment: we can almost hear
her speak the words of Job, " the
Lord gives, the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord." Jesus saw in her heart a sharing in his own
sacred heart, his own love of the Father.
The Scribes, the Pharisees, they were interested in what God could do
for them in this world, in clinging to their titles and honor and comforts. But they had no love for God, they placed
nothing of themselves on the altar of sacrifice. That is not the offering of a Christian, of
that poor widow. St. Paul teaches us in
our second reading, Christ came to cleanse us and gather us into the true
offering of his body: the one pure and holy and sacrifice of love he offered to
the Father on the cross.
And so every time we offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass it
must be personal. And not only because
we offer to the Father Christ's personal body and blood, soul and
divinity. But also because his offering,
of his life to the Father, like the offering of the widow, challenges and
motivates and invites each of us: Will
we work to freely offer our lives with him to the Father? Will we allow his offering to engage us
personally – will we respond to his example by laying what is asked of us
before the foot of the cross? Our hopes
and dreams, our gifts and experiences, the crying baby in the middle of the
night, the annoying co-worker, the frustrating homework, the lack of affection,
the desire for comfort or esteem: whatever else we are tempted to cling to,
from the little daily preferences even up to our very lives – will we bring all
of that up here? Everything in this
world can be, and is made to be, offered to God in love. Everything.
But he will not force us. He
wants us to follow the example of his Son, who freely offers his life on the
cross in love. May God give us the
wisdom and strength and perseverance to not cling to this life, but to follow
Christ and offer it: freely, joyfully, and with great love.
No comments:
Post a Comment