Ordinary Time

Jesus says to His disciples: “Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.” We serve a generous and merciful Father. Today’s first reading is dramatic. God loses patience with a sinful city, and is about to obliterate it, wipe it off the face of the earth. But then Abraham comes along and pleads with God. The whole point of the passage is the power of prayer. A good person storming heaven with prayers works wonders. In the book of Exodus, Moses fulfills the same role. The Israelites in the desert are not true to God, they worship false gods, they stop trusting the true God and complain about the lack of food and water. Moses’ main job, once he has escaped the clutches of the Egyptians, is to intercede with God for his unruly mob of followers. He becomes a professional man of prayer. Again and again he softens the heart of God, until he has brought his quarrelsome tribes to the verge of the promised land. Prayer works, is the message. It works, because God cares.

It works, but in a context of love and trust. Abraham and Moses were loving sons of the Father, they treated him with profound respect, they were prepared to be patient. When Jesus talks to His friends about prayer, He is presuming that we too respect and cherish God as our Father, that we trust His judgment. If you know a family where children rudely demand expensive presents, and shout and scream if they are frustrated, you may think to yourself, “I hope the parents don’t cave in, I hope they stand firm.” Willful infants can treat their parents like vending machines: insert the demand, receive the goods. God the Father is not about to be treated like that: after all, we already owe Him so much. What He wants of me is my heart, my confidence, my patience. My relationship with Him is far more valuable than the gifts He might give me. To Him we can say, in the words of psalm: “You stretch Your hand and save me, Your hand will do all things for me.”

Hospitality – opening our homes, and sharing our food with others – is a basic, practical, bodily doing of love. For Abraham and Sarah their hospitality to the mysterious visitors marks a turning point in their lives, as the gift of the child they thought they’d never have is promised. For Martha, however, the great gift of receiving Jesus into her home has a different kind of blessing – one of a challenge. The challenge comes from Jesus himself. He suggests that Martha is fussing about too many things. What are we to make of this challenge to Martha’s hospitable instincts and hard work? When we cook for guests, when we welcome people into our homes and share a bit of our lives with them, it is an act of practical loving not a performance of our own expertise. A simpler meal offered with care, which leaves room for the conversations of friendship, is more enabling of the doing of love than the extravagant feast that leaves some people exhausted and resentful, and can actually get in the way of real personal sharing.

Our world today is one where hospitality is a practice of love that is much needed. We are not called to grand gestures or lavish actions that we can take some pride in as the giver or the brilliant host. Rather, our giving is always, like Mary’s, to be centered on meeting the person whom we welcome. We need to learn to sit still with those we are called to care for, and listen to them know they are heard. In the week ahead let’s recognize the moments of hospitality that are opened up to us: buying a coffee for a workmate – and then spending some time chatting over it with them; inviting someone new to our homes – and getting to know them better; giving some food or money to the rough sleeper – and stopping to talk and listening to his or her story. If our generosity keeps the love of that person central, these moments of generosity will surely also be moments of meeting God.

As a child we are told that we lack musical talent, or that we are a liability to a sports team. It is true that not all of us will be great musicians or talented at sport, but with the right encouragement, training and opportunities it is amazing how far we can progress. In all these cases we exclude others from being part of our world and seek to build a world only for those whom we judge to be of worth. The kingdom Jesus Christ builds is one in which all are welcomed, and in welcoming others we grow in our humanity.

Jesus challenges us to examine our own attitudes towards others. In the parable of the good Samaritan He presents us with two ways of living. The first is that chosen by the priest and the Levite who pass by on the other side of the road to avoid the beaten man lying there. Jesus doesn’t tell us why they pass the man by. The shock to Jesus’ audience is increased when they hear that it is a Samaritan who comes to the aid of the man. It is the Samaritan who chooses the path of compassion, the path that leads to eternal life. The Samaritan sees a human being, someone who is like him, and he responds in compassion. In our lives do we look on others as threats, as obstacles to avoid, or do we look upon them as neighbors? The first path leads to a society in which pride and fear are the ruling forces, whereas the path chosen by the Samaritan is one in which humility and love rule. This is a challenge for each of us individually, but also for us collectively as a society.

In the parable of the good Samaritan Jesus Challenges us to examine our own hearts and to see how we are living according to God’s laws. Who is my neighbor? Those we know in our communities are most obviously neighbors to us, but do we always see them as human beings? Have we come to see them as obstacles to our own happiness? In opening our hearts to others, each of us battles against pride and fear. No one is beyond God’s love, and when we allow that love to enter our lives He will open our hearts to love others. This is why all our efforts to love our neighbor must start with prayer, in which we turn to God, knowing that without God’s healing love all our efforts will be in vain. God has loved us and accepted us, so that we can love and accept others.

At this time of year, many of us are likely to be looking forward to holidays. Some of us leave everything to the last minute, of course, resulting in a frantic dash, trying to remember where everything is: tickets, passports and so on. Whatever one’s view of when and how to prepare for a journey, in today’s world adequate preparation for travel is a necessity rather than an option.

It is surprising therefore, when we read in the Gospels that Jesus not only sent out disciples in a state that we could describe as unprepared, but He expressly forbade them to make adequate preparation. Today Jesus appoints 72 others – not numbered among the 12 – and sends them out in pairs to places that He himself will visit. If they meet with hostility they are to move on, first wiping from their feet the very dust of that town. Shaking the dust from their feet was a sign of rejecting anything unclean before entering God’s land. This journey is not a holiday. Disciples must not delay the start of the journey preparation, and they must not worry about what to take. They are embarking on God’s work as Jesus’ emissaries: God will provide them with everything they need.

Today’s Gospel may seem remote from our world, yet on reflection we may see that despite the peculiarities of Jesus’ instructions, they are timeless. As disciples, we are called to reflect on our own eagerness to proclaim the kingdom of God to those around us. Our hesitations, faults and failings can be barriers to the announcements that the Kingdom of God is at hand. Likewise, we can always find excuses to think we can’t be the bearers of the God News. Yet, our lives, if they are Gospel-based, are automatically proclamations of the kingdom. We don’t need passports, tickets, luggage and currency to be disciples: we do, however can take the Good News of Jesus himself.

When the Lord calls us and says, “Follow Me,” the response He is looking for is an immediate one. To the person who says, “Let me go and bury my father first,” Jesus’ reply is quite clear, “Leave the dead to bury their dead; your duty is to go and spread the news of the kingdom of God.” There is a popular hymn that uses words from this Gospel, “The foxes have their holes and the swallows have their nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay down.” Despite the cheerful tune, the message, if we think about it, is an alarming one. Jesus has nowhere to call His home.

If we understand Jesus properly there is no reason for us to fear. Jesus is telling His disciples that their bsiness is the proclamation of the kingdom of God. If it is their business that means it is our business, here and now. People can often forget that we are in this business together as brothers and sisters. People can sometimes think that they are not the worthy ones and a holier and more qualified person will come along. Jesus is telling us very clearly today that the proclamation of the kingdom is the business of all of us.

In this coming week, look at ways in which you are able to respond to the Lord’s call. Jesus has said to each and every one of us, “Follow Me,” and that is why you and I are here at Mass. Let’s not fall into the trap of waiting for a holier-looking person to come along. We ourselves, with God’s holy grace, are the people called by the Lord to follow Him. Whatever we may look like, whoever we may be, whether we receive recognition for it in this world or not, we are called to the business of proclaiming and building up the kingdom of God.

Today in the Gospel Jesus is invited to a meal by Simon the Pharisee, but once He is seated at table a woman with a bad reputation gatecrashes the party and starts behaving in what the other guests believe to be a very inappropriate manner. She begins weeping over Jesus’ feet. Imagine if that happened today. This sinful woman has been accepted, forgiven by Jesus. She reflects the abundant grace of God, which unexpectedly breaks through boundaries that hums beings see to impose. Simon the Pharisee, rather like older brother in the story of the prodigal son, doesn’t want to celebrate God’s unlimited forgiveness; he disapproves of it.

Christian communities can often respond as Simon did. We can disapprove of too much generosity, especially to people who seem to be breaking the rules all the time. We might have have a certainly sympathy with the village of hard-working peasants who turned away the ex-convict Jean Valjean because he represented too much of threat to their security. No doubt the bishop who gave him hospitality was seen as a silly old man who was out of touch with reality. God’s love seems disruptive and even dangerous. How else do we expect to overcome the divisions and hostilities that divide families, communities and nations in our world unless we allow God’s unlimited forgiveness to work in us, so we can witness to God’s healing love in our lives?

In the Gospel, even more than the first reading, the element of compassion is to the fore. As Jesus and His companions approach the little town of Nain, about 5 miles from Nazareth, another procession is making its way towards the city gate. It’s a funeral procession for a young man, the only son of a woman who has also lost her husband. She is alone and Jesus felt sorry for her; the meaning of the original Greek word is very strong – He is moved to the core of His being, He is filled with compassion. A few moments later, He hands over to the widow her son, now restored to life.

In restoring a dead man to life, Jesus is reminding us that His almighty power will one day work an even greater miracle for each of us – not a mere reprieve, not a mere restoration to the life wonderful beyond anything we could imagine and lasting for ever. Like everyone else we have a natural fear of death, or at least of the process of dying, but as believers we know that the risen Christ has lost none of His boundless compassion; He only waits to draw us through death into everlasting life.

In today’s Gospel Jesus condemns those who “swallow the poverty of widows.” The widow in the society of His time was an outcast. She had no inheritance rights from her husband’s property. Her eldest son would inherit and if there was no son she might be married to a brother of her deceased husband. If the brother refused, or if there was none, she would return to her father’s house or go begging. Widows, like other women, had no role in public or religious life. Jesus is sitting opposite the area in the Temple where financial gifts can be donated. Amidst all the ostentatious giving by affluent people He notices a poor widow humbly offering two coins. They are smallest coins in use, and she seems unaware that her tiny contribution is even noticed. But Jesus’ admiration for the widow is coupled with strong reservations about what is happening. Religious legislation was forcing widows to lose their homes, and even the poorest in society were expected to contribute financially to the Temple. This is an opportunity for Jesus to draw attention to the lowliest people in His society. But it is also a chance to lament the injustice that creates the conditions for this scene. It is a warning about wealth: that wealth and greed blind those who are affluent to the needs of vulnerable people, and that amazing wealth for the elite, and even for the religious establishment, means poverty for widows and those at the margins of society.

The injustice that afflicted the widows in scripture continue to affect those who are poor and vulnerable in our day. And we particularly remember the millions of widows globally who are victims of war and conflict, which have impoverished them. The Church has an obligation to work for peace and justice in the world, and constantly to reviews its economic practice to ensure that vulnerable groups are supported. The Church is called to have compassion for those on the margins of society with no wealth or influence. What about individual Christians? All of us are challenged not to let financial self-interest dominate our lives. The widow in the Gospel was able to let go of her security by giving her last coins – a small deed of love. We are called to be selfless with the resources at our disposal, particularly supporting poor and vulnerable people. Today’s readings encourage us to rely on God for all our needs, and thank God each day for the many blessings received and the small deeds of love that we experience.

We find many obstacles that get in the way of our discipleship. We are preoccupied with our hopes and anxieties. Many of these may be like those of the chosen disciples; we too are concerned with our security and whether life is going to be kind to us. The true disciple tries to see more clearly, trying to base the truth of his or her life on that of Christ, who is “the way, the truth and the life.” From time to time we too will be granted moments that offer us a significant step forward. They may be the difficult challenges that come with death, sickness or the loss of work and love ones. They may also be great moments of joy and elation when we are granted to see or hear things in a new way. What is common to all these moments is that they take us out of ourselves, and their aftereffects is that we too are more able to follow Jesus along the way. The great thing is that we too do not walk that way alone. We pursue our path in the great company of fellow pilgrims and believers, and we are supported by our risen Lord, always with us in His word and in His sacramental presence.