The Sánchez Archives TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME Year C

By
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

Humble Love

SIRACH 3:17-18, 20, 28-29
HEBREWS 12:18-19, 22-24
LUKE 14:1, 7-14

In today’s scripture readings, the gathered assembly is offered an opportunity to reflect upon humility, not for the purpose of examining the virtue in and of itself but for understanding humility as a means of opening our heart, our minds and our hands to the poor, needy, disadvantaged and marginalized of society. Not a personal quality borne of introspection, authentic humility is both the cause and result of social awareness and altruism. Thomas Merton (1915-1968), the Trappist monk, author and activist, once wrote that one of his most intense experiences of humility took place on the corner of Fourth and Walnut in Louisville, Kentucky. “In the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I was theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers” (Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, Doubleday, New York” 1966). Merton went on to explain that although believers may bring a different attitude to the world and its struggles because we belong to God, we are no better than any one else, just more conscious. He suggested that if people could humbly look at one another and see one another for what we really are, i.e., members of the human race in which the great God almighty chose to become incarnate, then there would be no more arrogance, pride, war, hatred, poverty or greed. These human evils would fade before the humble realization of our shared blessedness.

In a similar vein, the Hasidic Rabbi, Levi Yitzhak of the Ukraine, said that he had discovered the true meaning of love and humility from a pair of drunken friends in a country tavern. While chatting with the owner of the tavern, the rabbi saw the men embracing and declaring their love for one another. Suddenly Ivan said to his companion, “Peter, tell me what hurts me!” Sobered by such a startling remark, Peter replied, “How do I know what hurts you?” Ivan’s answer was immediate, “If you don’t know what hurts me, how can you say you love me?” Through their interchange, the two companions underscored the fact that the true humility which issues forth in love is not fostered by navel-gazing but by bending down to look up into the eyes of another. From that humble position, the hopes and needs, the hurts and fears of the other are readily perceived; from that position of humility, love can be offered and service can be rendered, not with an air of condescension but with the warmth of compassion.

Walter Burghardt ( Preaching the Just Word, Yale University Press, New Haven: 1996) suggested that the cries of those who hurt will be met by compassion only when believers allow themselves to become personally touched by their pain. To allow oneself to be so touched will necessarily involve a new and humbler way of seeing the reality in which we live, seeing it, not from the position of the comfortable and powerful but from the viewpoint of the pressured and powerless.

In their efforts to encourage such humility at every level of the hierarchy of the church, Latin American theologians challenged believers to develop and foster “a preferential option for the poor.” At Medellin, in Columbia, in 1968 and at Puebla, Mexico, in 1979, the Latin American bishops endorsed this option; since then, other Christian leaders, including Pope John Paul II, have followed suit. But endorsing a policy and enacting it are not the same thing. In order to enact such a policy, believers must necessarily develop a new perspective for reading scripture; it will require that we take its challenge seriously, and accept to emulate Jesus’ preference for the small, simple, poor and marginalized. Moreover, this preferential option will require more than seasonal dedication. Granted, the extra efforts that are made to provide a generous basket of food at Thanksgiving and Christmas may be laudable and self-satisfying. But the humble, truer love that is nearer to Christ’s heart understands that poor people and especially poor people should have ample, good food daily.

As today’s gospel indicates, Jesus understood that the daily human needs of the poor are the personal responsibility of every authentic humble believer. This requires that the impersonal check sent through the mail and the bag of canned goods dropped off anonymously at the church be followed up and complemented by a personal invitation to lunch or dinner. As I write these words, I can already hear the barrage of objections raised against them. . . “too dangerous!”. . . “what about my family?”. . . “you never know where these people have been!” . . . “wouldn’t they feel out of place?”. . . what if something happens?!” To be honest, I can hear the same thoughts swirling around uncomfortably in my own head and heart. Nevertheless, this is the challenge of the gospel; this is what it means to exercise a preferential option for the poor. Are we humble enough to risk it?

SIRACH 3:17-18, 20, 28-2

By his own claim, the Jerusalem native and author of the book of Sirach or Ecclesiasticus did not write for personal fame or gain (51:25) but for the benefit of all who seek instruction. A world traveler (34:12-13) and a respected scribe and teacher, Ben Sira presided as the head-master of an academy for young men (57:23-30). Wise in the ways of God and the world, he was intent upon preserving Judaism’s up and coming generations from surrendering their beliefs and traditions to the pervasive influence of Hellenistic culture and philosophy. To that end, compiled a collection of his insights on wisdom, the law, and the Hebrew scriptures and helped his charges to apply the truths therein to the various and sundry circumstances of life. Although Ben Sira wrote the book that bears his name in Hebrew, ca. 180 B.C.E., his grandson understood that his grandfather’s insights would prove valuable for Jews in the diaspora, many of whom did not speak Hebrew. Therefore, he translated his grandfather’s writings into Greek, ca. 130 B.C.E.

Although the ancient sage’s work was highly esteemed and frequently referenced by his fellow Jews, it was not accepted into the Palestinian canon. Alexander DiLella (“Sirach,” The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs” 1990) suggests that the Pharisees who defined the canon near the end of the first century C.E. probably frowned on some of Ben Sira’s theology, e.g. his denial of retribution in the hereafter. Until the Reformation, Christians, who adopted the Alexandrian canon accepted Sirach as normative; except for the Psalter, no other book was used as extensively in the liturgy of the earthly Church.

Contextually, today’s reading represents excerpted portions of two of Ben Sira’s short essays, the first on humility (3:17-24), the second on docility, almsgiving and social conduct (3:25-4:10). Like a parent or elder brother offering wise counsel, the author recommended that his readers find true greatness in living humbly. Not a passive compliance or resignation, humility, like faith, is an active virtue requiring positive trust and a thoroughgoing cooperation with God. Exemplified in the Isaian suffering servant, whose humble cooperation with God’s power to save would lead to the deliverance of his people (Isaiah 53:7ff), humility was also regarded as one of the attributes of the messiah (Zechariah 9:9). Those who awaited the salvation to be wrought by the messiah were called to be similarly humble (Psalms 10:17; 22:26; 25:9;34:2; 37:11). When the messianic era dawned in the person and through the mission of Jesus, humility of heart was a necessary requisite for recognizing and accepting him. It is significant that the accusation Jesus most frequently leveled at those who refused to humble themselves before the truth was not that they were proud but rather that they were hypocrites!

Hypocrisy, a word derived from the Greek hupokrites, meant one who answers back. Eventually, the term was used in reference to the dialogue among actors on a stage and finally became a synonym for actor. As William Barclay (“The Gospel of Matthew,” The Daily Study Bible, The Saint Andrew Press, Edinburgh: 1975) has correctly explained, hypocrite then came to mean an actor in the worst sense of the term, “a pretender, one who acts a part, one who wears a mask to cover true feelings, one who puts on an external show while inwardly his thoughts and feelings are very different.” Both Jesus and Ben Sira of Jerusalem and Jesus called their charges, both then and now, to turn away from the play acting of hypocrisy toward the authenticity of humility promising that, in their pursuit of the truth, they would also find God.

HEBREWS 12:18-19, 22-24

Just as Ben Sirach, in the first reading, invited his students to keep to the high road of their Jewish beliefs and traditions rather than opt for a lesser path, and just as Jesus in the gospel advised his followers to ascribe to the way of humility rather than be detoured by prideful hypocrisy, so also, did the author of Hebrews present his readers with a crossroads conundrum. Thomas G. Long (Hebrews, John Knox Press, Louisville: 1997) sees a similarity between the situation of the recipients of Hebrews and that which Robert Frost presented in his memorable poem, “The Road Not Taken.” Those early Christians had come to a place in their lives where two roads diverge and like the traveler in Frost’s poem, the one they chose would make “all the difference.”

Standing at the spiritual crossroads of their lives, the readers of Hebrews had to choose either the ways of the former Covenant, symbolized in this pericope by the fire, storm, darkness, trumpet blast and the voice, speaking words that they begged not to hear, or the ways of the new Covenant, mediated by Jesus and celebrated by the angels and the assembly of the first born. At first reading, the choice for Jesus appears to be an obvious one. However, there were several complicating factors which made this choice difficult and which also made a return to the former covenant seem attractive.

Writing at a time (last quarter of first century C.E.) when many of the apostolic eye-witnesses to Jesus had died, and given the fact that the interim between Jesus’ two advents was growing longer and longer, some of the author’s readers may have been inclined to grow lax in their commitment. To prevent attrition in the ranks of the believers, the author of Hebrews encouraged his readers to stay their course.

In addition to the problem of laxity, the recipients of Hebrews also had to contend with outright conflict. Those Jews who had accepted to follow the way of Jesus and acclaimed him as messiah, were, by virtue of their choice, subjected to hostilities, from both Judaism and Rome. Whereas, initially, both Jewish and Roman authorities had tolerated the Jesus-movement, by the mid-eighties C.E. they were no longer allowed to participate in the synagogue services.. Once their ties with Judaism were officially severed, Jewish Christians were no longer regarded as a sect or offshoot of Judaism; therefore Christians no longer shared the status allotted to Jews in the empire, viz., religio licita. Having been declared an illegal organization, Christians were then subject to Roman persecution; their faith in Jesus was regarded as tantamount to treason.

Because their commitment to Christ left them so vulnerable, some Christians were tempted to turn from Christ, retrace their paths and become reinstated within the Jewish community. To avert such back-tracking, the Hebrews author guided his readers through a lengthy and repetitive comparison of the former covenant and its way with the new covenant, mediated by Christ. Again and again, he contrasted the elements of their former lives, e.g. the priesthood, sacrificial system, etc. and in each instance underscored the superior quality of life in Christ.

Basing himself on the premise that Judaism and its cult had been rendered obsolete by the priesthood and sacrifice of Jesus, he called his readers to renew their commitment as his disciples. To do so would mean to take the “path least traveled” but it would also be the path that will lead to Christ, to truth and to joy. Moreover, those who opt for the least traveled path will find that the trail has been blazed by “the leader and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2) and that the way has been clearly marked by a “great cloud of witnesses” (12:1). For the “sake of the joy that lies before us” (12:2), let us “not grow near or lose heart” (12:3); if we stay to the path struck for us by Christ, it will, as Frost’s poem affirmed, “make all the difference”.

LUKE 14:1, 7-14

On the concrete forecourt of Mann’s (formerly Grauman’s) Chinese Theater, visitors to Hollywood, California, can view the hand and footprints of many of its celebrities. “Immortalized” in cement are the glitterati whose names have been “up in the lights” on the marquis of cinemas all over the globe. Actors, whose craft has made their name “a household word” and whose fame precedes them wherever they go, these are the people who don’t simply open a door; they “make an entrance.” Pampered and pursued by their fans, many travel with an entourage; some even grow so accustomed to the kowtowing of others that they have come to desire and expect such obsequiousness. In a sense, the Pharisees of Jesus’ day were treated similarly by their contemporaries and, unfortunately, some had begun to think it was their due.

Admired by ordinary men and women, who found their piety and devotion to be extraordinary and their behavior above reproach, the Pharisees could be described as the “spiritual glitterati” of their times. It was to the home of one of these bright stars (a leading Pharisee, v. 1) that Jesus had been invited for a meal; within that context and amid that ambiance, he taught his own a lesson in humble, truthful living.

Notice that Luke was careful to set the tone by telling his readers that Jesus was being closely observed by the Pharisees (v. 1) and that, he also, was taking notice of how they were vying for places of honor. No doubt, the fact that it was the Sabbath added a certain electricity to the situation. Jesus had already gained a reputation for impropriety as regards the Sabbath; he had: defended his disciples when others accused them of breaking the Sabbath laws (6:1-5); cured a man with a withered hand (6:6-11); healed a woman crippled for 18 years (13:10-17); and restored to health a man suffering from dropsy (14:2-6). Immediately after this cure, he set about the task of chipping away at the façade behind which the Pharisees hid their true selves. . . also on the Sabbath!

Rather than curry prestige for themselves by taking the seats of honor at a banquet, Jesus “let it be known that real honor will not come from one’s self-seeking choices, but from what is bestowed on one by another” (Joseph Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke, Doubleday, New York” 1985). The coveted seats in question would have been the place of highest honor at the central position of the U-shaped triclinium. The second an third places were those to the left and right of central. Then the seats were ranked in descending order, left to right until all the places on the dining couch were occupied. Needless to say, those who sought out honors for themselves were mortified when asked to take a place of lesser honor. To preclude this shame and to avert such pretentiousness, Jesus advised his disciples to humble themselves and avoid social climbing.

Jesus’ second Sabbath dinner lesson concerned the human foible of reciprocity. In a society which functioned on the convention that “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine”, Jesus’ challenge probably sounded just as outrageous and impractical then as it does today. Nevertheless, and as Luke Timothy Johnson ( The Gospel of Luke, The Liturgical Press, Collegeville: 1991) has explained, Jesus was proposing that his followers learn to measure their generosity with the measure of the kingdom. Jesus exercised a preferential option for the poor and proclaimed the gospel to the outcast, the blind, the lame; therefore these special members of society should also be the predilect of his followers. As Joseph Fitzmyer ( op. cit.) has explained, the poor would not have the economic wherewithal to reciprocate; the other three (outcast, blind, lame) would not have had the power or capability. Authentic love, humble love does not depend on or expect recompense. This love was exemplified by Jesus on the cross and in the gift of himself as bread for sinners; we who have been saved and are sustained by that love are called to humbly exemplify this same love to the world.

[NOTE TO USERS: This archive is available for use without charge, but it remains the property of the author and under copyright with Celebrations Publications. Users are permitted to print individual Sunday commentaries for pastoral use, but are prohibited from downloading or copying files or printing any portion of this for sale or distribution.]