DOCTRINE AND FAITH
(Sirach 35,12-14.16-18; 2 Timothy 4,6-8.16-18; Luke 18,9-14: 30th Sunday; Year C, 2019)
The reading from the Book of Sirach, 35,12-14.16-18, is a discourse on both the impartiality of God and the prayer of those in need. Although, these are very different themes; in this reading one flows from the other. Sirach states that the justice of God is an established fact. In this, he stands within a long tradition in Israel that professes this belief (cf. Deut 32,4; Ps 145,17; Isa 45,24; Jer 23,6; etc.). He also states that God knows no favourites, neither the privileged nor the dispossessed. By stating this, he is indirectly showing that if there is any partiality, it is ours and not God's. He insists that God is concerned with justice, not favouritism; when God takes the side of the poor, it is for the sake of justice, not poverty. According to covenant theology, we are all responsible for one another. The well-offs are obliged to address the needs of those who suffer misfortune. This is a matter of justice, not charity. Sirach contends that God hears the cry of the oppressed - those who are the victims of wrongdoing. The oppressed cry out, the orphan wails, the widow complains, and God yields to their requests. These are all people for whom there seems to be little redress. It is almost as if God is bound to respond positively to them. As a covenant partner, God is accountable to them, especially when other covenant partners disregard their own responsibilities. Sirach assures these forlorn people that their entreaties will not go unheeded. Like the persistent widow in last Sunday's gospel reading, they will not cease praying until they accomplish their goal, until justice is reestablished.
The Epistle reading for this Sunday, 2 Timothy 4,6-8.16-18, reveals that Paul is aware that his days are numbered, that his death is imminent. He does not resent it, nor does he run toward it eagerly. He faces it with the calm resignation that springs from deep faith. He uses moving imagery to characterise his death: he sees his life as a libation, as if his life is being poured out; secondly he views his death as a departure, a kind of leave-taking associated with sailors weighing anchor or soldiers breaking camp. Like them, Paul has completed a demanding tour of service and is now preparing to return home; finally, he uses imagery derived from athletic competition to evaluate the course of his ministerial commitment. He has competed well; he has finished the race. To this he adds that he has kept the faith, an idiomatic expression that means remaining loyal to one's oath. He has done what he could. Now he has only to wait for the conferral of the crown promised by God. The reference is to Christ's eschatological manifestation. Throughout this discourse, he extols the marvellous deeds God has done on his behalf. Paul is also confident that just as God had previously rescued him from peril, so God would rescue him again.
The story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Luke 18,9-14, well known to us is an example of divine reversal that surprises the hearers and obliges them to examine anew the values and standards by which they live. In it, two men are contrasted not only by their exterior behaviour but by the way each understands and describes himself. The judgment that is passed is based on self-assessment, not on the evaluation of another. The Pharisee in this story is a model of pharisaic observance. Everything about his demeanour bespeaks propriety. He stands, according to the customary posture for prayer, and his conduct has been exemplary. He is innocent of greed, dishonesty and adultery. His practices of piety exceed the requirements of the law. He fasts twice a week, when fasting is only mandated for the Day of Atonement; he tithes on all of his possessions, not merely on his earnings, as the law states. It would appear the man is beyond reproach. His description of himself is probably accurate, and his negative estimation of the tax collector may be accurate as well. The tax collector in this narrative does not deny his involvement in offensive practices. In fact, his prayer for mercy seems to be an admission of his guilt. His demeanour is radically different from that of the Pharisee. He stands at a distance, suggesting that the other man either stood in the front or in the midst of those in the Temple. He does not raise his eyes to heaven, suggesting that the Pharisee did. He beats his breast while the Pharisee's arms were conspicuously raised high. His repentant manner marks him as a sinner. There is no question about which of these men has lived a righteous life and which has not. The men have described themselves correctly. However, Jesus' evaluation turns the story upside down. The Pharisee's self-estimation is really a self-eulogy. While he may be living an upright life, he takes credit for his virtue, and he claims superiority over others who may not be as compliant as he is. The tax collector, on the other hand, acknowledges that justification comes from God. The tax collector prayed that his sins be expiated, and his prayer was answered. The Pharisee asked for nothing and received nothing. The saying at the end is the final judgment. The men's lives may have been the reverse of each other, but the judgment of Jesus exposes the real reversal.
Today’s readings challenge us to reflect on the attitudes one brings to prayer. They illustrate basically two opposing attitudes: self-righteousness and humility. It is very easy for religious people to fall into a kind of self-righteousness: Thank God I am better than others. Their very enthusiasm and generosity can plant the seeds of religious arrogance. They discover what commitment demands of them, experience relative success in their endeavours to be faithful, distance themselves from what they think might threaten their resolve and then pass judgment on those who do not share their values or experience their success. The growth of this kind of arrogance is often imperceptible, because there is enough truth in every step along the way that it is difficult to recognise when one is veering off the track. The fact is that some religious people are better than the rest of us. The arrogant Pharisee clearly believed he was better because of what he had done. He had been observant and was proud of it. The tax collector, on the other hand, was ashamed of what he had done. More to the point, he knew what God was able to do in the face of his sinfulness, and so he asked for mercy. Justification comes from God; it is not an equitable return for a job well done. The tax collector knew this; the Pharisee did not. The tax collector asked God for mercy, and he was granted his request. The Pharisee asked for nothing of God, and so he received nothing. There are various ways in which we show we are self-righteous, but basically they all show we have forgotten that God is God and we are not. This is the attitude Jesus condemns. It presumes we are righteous through our own power, when it might be the case that we have not been thrown into a state of affairs that sorely tests the mettle of our virtue. It is one thing to be non-violent when the circumstances of life are relatively tranquil, and quite another when one is immersed in brutal situations. When the circumstances of life support our efforts to be observant, we can easily assume a superior attitude toward those whose weaknesses are only too apparent. They may show failings in areas where we are resolute, but our disdain for them is a clear sign of both our ignorance of our own human frailty and our lack of human compassion for the frailty of others. Unfortunately, this attitude of arrogance can be brought to prayer by the pharisee in all of us. Jesus extols the humility of the one who admits being a sinner and can accept the implications of that admission: Be merciful to me, a sinner. The tax collector neither denied his culpability nor tried to excuse it. He straightforwardly acknowledged his sin and stood humbly and openly before the holy God to whom he was accountable. There is an unpretentious honesty in his manner. He knows who and what he is, and who and what God is. He asks for mercy, knowing he does not deserve it but also knowing there is every reason to believe the compassionate God will grant his request. His prayer demonstrates contrition, humility, and confidence. Unlike the Pharisee, who looks only to himself, the tax collector, though he does not even raise his eyes to heaven, looks only to God. This is the attitude Jesus commends. This is the kind of prayer described in both the reading from Sirach and the Responsorial Psalm. It is those who can admit they are needy who turn to God in that need, and it is equally those who trust that God will be their strength in the face of their weaknesses who are strengthened. The lowly, the poor, the oppressed, and the brokenhearted are not closer to God because they are lowly, poor, oppressed, or brokenhearted but because in their dire straits they turn to God rather than to themselves. God is merciful, and they experience this mercy when they pray for it; God is the source of their strength, and they are strong when they turn to God for strength. Paul's own prayer demonstrates the attitudes that should be ours as we pray. Like the Pharisee, he acknowledges his success. He has competed well; he has finished the course; he has kept the faith. Unlike the Pharisee, he acknowledges that God is the source of any good he has been able to accomplish. The Lord stood by him and gave him strength. If there is any glory, it belongs to God. Paul's confident prayer springs from a humble heart. Therefore, may the good Lord in today’s Eucharistic celebration, grant us the humility to acknowledge our sins and the confidence to turn to God for mercy. +John I. Okoye
(pictures br Chukwubike)
No comments:
Post a Comment