14 August. 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

There are more than enough Christians who are deeply attached to a situation of well-being and tend to consider Christianity as a religion that invariably ought to be concerned with maintaining the law and the established order. That’s why it feels so strange to hear sayings from Jesus’ mouth that invite, not to staying put and conservatism, but to a profound and radical transformation of society. «I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already… Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division».

It’s not easy for us to see Jesus as someone who brings fire, destined to destroy so much lying, violence and injustice. A Spirit capable of radically transforming the world, even at the cost of challenging and dividing people. The one who believes in Jesus isn’t a fatalistic person who resigns self in the face of any situation, seeking above all tranquility and false peace. She isn’t someone stuck, who justifies the status quo without working eagerly, creatively and in solidarity for a better world. Nor is he a rebel who is motivated by resentment, and tears everything down and then takes the place of those he has cast down. The one who understands Jesus acts because she is moved by the passion and the aspiration to collaborate in a complete change. The true Christian brings «revolution» in his heart. A revolution that isn’t an «overthrow», just another change of government, insurrection or political change of the guard, but rather the seeking of a more just society.

The world order that we frequently defend is still in disorder. Because we haven’t succeeded in giving food to all the hungry, or guaranteed each person’s rights, or even eliminated wars or destroyed nuclear arms. We need a revolution that is more profound than our economic revolutions. A revolution that transforms people’s and nations’ consciences. H. Marcuse wrote that we need a world «in which competition, the struggle of individuals one against another, deception, cruelty and massacres no longer have a reason to exist». Whoever follows Jesus, goes about ardently seeking that the fire lit by him burn all the more in this world. But before anything else, a radical transformation is demanded within his own self: «The only thing we ask of Christians is that they be authentic. This truly is the revolution». (E. Mounier)

Rugged Individuals

“Oh all you who pass by, see if there is any sorrow like unto my sorrow.” These words are often applied to Jesus, but they were not said BY him. They are from the Lamentations of Jeremiah (1:12), an Old Testament prophet whose life bears close resemblance to that of Jesus. Jeremiah lived in the 6th century B.C., an age of great upheaval which saw the collapse of the Assyrian empire, and the emergence of an even greater one in Babylon. After being subject to Assyria for some time, the Israelites’ faith in God and their forms of worship were tainted by pagan practices.

Jeremiah’s role was to condemn idolatry and help his people rebuild their faith. But the ruling elite blocked all his efforts and even wanted to kill him, trying to make it seem that he died of the general famine afflicting the country. As a shy young man, Jeremiah’s whole being shuddered before the vocation he felt, which was “to tear up and to knock down, to destroy and to overthrow” (1:10). In his own descriptions we see him on the verge of despair. “The word of the Lord has brought on me insult and derision all day long” (20:8).

Jeremiah inner struggle was intense. “Why is my suffering endless, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?” (15:18). He even goes so far as to say, “Cursed be the day when I was born” (20:18). He was going through what St John of the Cross would later call “the dark night of the soul,” when someone specially chosen by God seems abandoned by him. By such suffering the heart of Jeremiah was purified, making him a mighty prophet.

Instead of preaching externals like Law, circumcision, sacrifice andTemple, Jeremiah preached a religion that was inward, a more personal relationship with God. Deep within his people’s psyche God would plant his Law, writing it on their hearts (Jer 31:33). A thousand years later, St Augustine was of similar mind. “Seek God within” was his motto. “Enter into yourselves, for truth dwells within you.” The focus on interior, personal religion is what makes Jeremiah dear to so many Christians. He foresaw a new covenant between God and the people, the first time such an idea is found in Judaism. The consecration over the chalice in every Mass mentions “the new and everlasting covenant.”

Both Jesus and Jeremiah had obvious love for the common people, and a burning desire for their welfare, and both were rejected by the powers-that-be of their time. What Caiphas said of Jesus, “It is better for one man to die for the people than for the whole nation to be destroyed” (Jn 11:50) echoes what the leading men in Jerusalem said of the prophet Jeremiah, “This fellow does not have the welfare of the people at heart, but its ruin”. When they plotted to kill Jeremiah, he was only saved by an Egyptian, who helped draw him out of the muddy well into which he had been thrown. The only person to help Jesus on his way to Calvary, Simon of Cyrene, was also a foreigner, a Libyan. In God’s wise providence, help can come from the most unexpected quarters.

Peace and Division

“Do you think that I am come to bring peace on earth?” Quite honestly, we would hope so. We’ve come to equate Jesus with peace; is he not the Prince of Peace? The Communion Rite links him with peace; the discourse at the Last Supper is peppered with the word. Yet, when he answers his own question, he confuses us. “No. I tell you, but rather division.”

We look at the life of Jesus for clues as to how “peace” and “division” can be reconciled. One approach is to find Jesus exercising options in his life; facing moments when he has a choice of two roads ?” the easy pliant one of the prevailing culture or the lonely reforming one. His decisions cause divisions. Some of the division and turmoil is within himself (the garden scene.) some between himself and others ?” his mother and relatives. Peter on the road to Jerusalem, the final divisiveness of the cross of scandal.

Each time Jesus decides to follow the Father’s will, that has two effects. It divides him off from those who won’t take the step with him, and it moves him deeper into the peace that comes from being true to who you are. The peace Jesus talks about has a shape to it. It is not the wishy-washy, compromising, anything-for-a-quiet-life kind of peace we often settle for. When he mentions “division” in the same breath, we begin to see division as almost the price of authentic peace. We could spend time going through the decisions of Jesus. He reached out; he had compassion; he suffered along with people; he understood their pain; he broke bread with the hungry; he befriended the poor and sinners; he was at ease with the little, working poor people who lived in the shadow of the powerful elite.

The problem is that while we’ve read and heard these scenes a thousand times, we’ve lost sight of how disruptive and unconventional Jesus was. He talked of Samaritans saving Jewish lives! He praised the father who embraced the son who shamed him! You were to share your cloak and tunic, all you wore, literally! The soldier in the occupying army was to be accompanied not just the one mile but another mile, unbidden.

Jesus parted company with the self-centered, not because he wished to but because they did. His open-handed approach to others provoked a clench-fisted reaction in them. They would have to be rid of this challenging presence. The crucifixion was meant to silence him for good. Instead, it gave him the final, supreme option. It not only capped his life of sacrifice but raised up a symbol to disturb us over the centuries. The sacrificed life of Jesus indicates the price to be paid if we are to reach the peace he calls us to.