Journey's Weekly Homilies
JOURNEY
CATHOLIC COMMUNITY
HOMILY
BY SAM
FOURTH SUNDAY, YEAR A
FEBRUARY 3, 2002
‘WHY AM I HERE?’
ZEPHANIAH 2:3; 3:12-13
I CORINTHIANS 1:26-31
MATTHEW 5:1-12a
"Why am I here?" Laurie asked that question a few weeks
ago. I’d like to amend that: Why am I here of all places
on Super Bowl Sunday?
Why am I here? Am I here to see my friends? Am I here for the
Missy Bread? Am I here because I get to sing in the choir or
preach? There’s some truth in each of these although none
of them would lead me to be here while the rest of the country
watches football. Why am I here?
Studying today’s readings I realize that I am here for three reasons and
they all have to do with "the reign of God". Those
reasons are: hope; God’s love for the poor; and community.
First of all there’s hope. Hope allows me to confront the grim
realities of oppression in our world without getting discouraged.
Because of hope I can to work for justice, mercy, freedom, and
abundance for all people even when the cause seems impossible.
Hope enabled someone to scrawl these words on the walls of a Nazi
concentration camp: "I believe in the sun even when it
is not shining; I believe in love even when I am alone; I believe
in God even when he is silent." Hope.
The Jewish scriptures gave the people hope through the image of the
promised land. A place where "mountains bear sheaves of
peace and the hillsides a harvest of righteousness; wheat in full
flood and fields of gold, a city rising from a sea of green".
Zephaniah promises "the day of the Lord" when the poor will be
welcomed into this promised land. There they will
"pasture and lie down, and no one shall make them afraid any
more".
Matthew continues this vision which and calls it the "reign of
God" or the "kingdom of heaven". It is
promised to the poor, the meek, and so forth.
This is the second thing which brings me here every week: the
reminder of God’s unique and special love for the poor.
I was riding the Portland street car just a few blocks away from here last
month. A young man and woman began discussing utility
shutoffs of all things. They debated which utility payment
to skip if you didn’t have enough money at the end of the month.
They talked about which would cost the most to have reconnected.
Finally this young man, about twenty-five years old, sighed and
said, "I guess everything you could have shut off, I’ve had
shut off at least twice."
Listening to this conversation I wondered, "Where else in my life
would I hear a something like this". And I realized
that I, like most people, insulate myself from the life of the
poor through that steel skin called the "automobile".
Yet today’s Gospel says, "To such as these belongs the kingdom of
heaven". Somehow the readings we hear every week, the
songs we sing, and the work that many of you do with different
shades of poverty, all of these things encourage me to seek the
reign of God for all people rather than insulating myself in
comfort and security.
Today’s Gospel says the poor are blessed. This means that they are
God’s family, protected and loved as God’s own. Of
course to say the poor are blessed is ironic, even cruelly so.
When I pass a man sleeping in the doorway of this Church he
doesn’t seem particularly blessed, chosen by God. In fact
he seems forsaken.
"Blessed are the poor" is not congratulations on something
already accomplished. I don’t presume this man’s
troubles are over or that he is better than any of the rest of us.
Today’s Gospel reminds me that God intends his plight to change
and will not be satisfied until it does change through your
efforts and mine. None of us will enter the reign of God
before this man in the doorway. So what do we do about that?
Today’s Gospel reminds me of the small signs of that change.
Oregon Food Bank through donations and volunteer efforts
distributes thousands of tons of food. Oregon Food Bank is
for me a poem on the wall of a concentration camp.
Who are the poor so close to God’s heart? Our translation today is
a little stilted, so let me freshen it up with some help from the
commentaries I consulted.
"Blessed are the outcast, the ill, the indigent, those who cannot
defend themselves—they will live in the reign of God.
"Blessed are those who grieve and protest every injustice—God will
satisfy them.
"Blessed are those who have been ripped off by the powerful and
expect God’s justice—they will find abundance in the land of
promise.
"Blessed are those who live justly—they will find justice
overflowing.
"Blessed are those who are generous to the needy and forgive those
who have offended them—they will receive as they have given.
"Blessed are those who love fully without reserve—their desire will
be filled.
"Blessed are those who seek the fullness of life (shalom) for all
people—for they will be God’s people.
"Blessed are those who encounter any hardship in their advocacy for
the poor—the reign of God is theirs.
We have among us teachers, nurses, social workers, and others who make all
kinds of sacrifices, face adversity in many forms in your advocacy
for the poor. And I say blessed are you. You give me
hope.
Third, I am here because of community. All of our readings today
teach us that God’s people are the poor and those who stand in
solidarity with them. In the reign of God none are rich
except in justice, love, and mercy and in that God will make us
great.
Corinth was a new city founded a hundred years earlier on the ruins of an
earlier city the Romans had destroyed. It probably had no
inherited wealth or entrenched aristocracy, like other places in
the empire. So Paul is speaking literally when he says,
"Not many of you were wise, not many were powerful, not many
of noble birth."
Paul writes to Corinth because members of the community had forgotten
their humble status. They began to insulate themselves
through privilege and power. They reveled in special
knowledge and gifts which set them apart from their brothers and
sisters. Paul reminds them that God blessed them because
they were weak, low, and foolish.
In this letter to the Corinthians Paul develops a teaching that we call
"koinonia", faith in community. A community of
faith is different, he says, because it is a community of the
poor. And when we live koinonia there are no experts among
us, none who are entitled to tell others what to do. When we
are true to this, justice, love, and mercy abound and the
reign of God is here.
We are no closer to the reign of God than the Corinthians. We
approach it herky-jerky. Moments of profound openness and
invitation followed by times when we are amazingly calloused with
each other. Still every week we hold the image of the
promised land, the reign of God, ever before us. It
confronts us, challenges us to our core. It is a mission
barely begun. There are poor to be fed and community members
to be reconciled with, work which we must do together.
That
is why I am here. I seek the reign of God not in some future
place but here, in our midst, where we say that poverty and
vulnerability are honored and protected. Here, where the
rich and poor mingle, as together we build a more just world.
Here, where the meek and the plain-spoken may become our prophets,
where leaders serve rather than rule. Here, where all feed
and are fed from a common loaf regardless of gender, marital
status, sexual orientation, or baptism.
This
is a human place, full of challenge, failure, and forgiveness.
Here I find the reign of God. And I can’t find that
anywhere else in the world. Certainly not at home watching
football.