Twenty Second Sunday Homily of Ordinary Time Year C

TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY HOMILY OF ORDINARY TIME YEAR C

Sir 3:17f., 20, 28f.      Heb 12:18f., 22-24     Lk 14:1, 7-14

Part of Correct Etiquette at the Banquet of Life: Humility

Humility in the Scheme of Things; Compassion Made Real in Gentleness; The Paradoxical Nature of Christianity.

1st Reading – Sirach 3:17-18, 21, 29-30

¹⁷ My child, conduct your affairs with humility,
and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.

¹⁸ Humble yourself the more, the greater you are,
and you will find favor with God.

²¹ What is too sublime for you, seek not,
into things beyond your strength search not.

²⁹ The mind of a sage appreciates proverbs,
and an attentive ear is the joy of the wise.

³⁰ Water quenches a flaming fire,
and alms atone for sins.

Responsorial Psalm – Psalms 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11

R. (cf. 11b) God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.

⁴ The just rejoice and exult before God;
they are glad and rejoice.
⁵ Sing to God, chant praise to his name;
whose name is the LORD.
R. God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.

⁶ The father of orphans and the defender of widows
is God in his holy dwelling.
⁷ God gives a home to the forsaken;
he leads forth prisoners to prosperity.
R. God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.

¹⁰ A bountiful rain you showered down, O God, upon your inheritance;
you restored the land when it languished;
¹¹ your flock settled in it;
in your goodness, O God, you provided it for the needy.
R. God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.

2nd Reading – Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24A

Brothers and sisters:
¹⁸ You have not approached that which could be touched and a blazing fire and gloomy darkness

¹⁹ and storm and a trumpet blast and a voice speaking words such that those who heard begged that no message be further addressed to them.

²² No, you have approached Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering,

²³ and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and God the judge of all, and the spirits of the just made perfect,

²⁴ and Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and the sprinkled blood that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.

Alleluia – Matthew 11:29AB

R. Alleluia, alleluia.
²⁹ Take my yoke upon you, says the Lord,
and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel – Luke 14:1, 7-14

¹ On a sabbath Jesus went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully.

⁷ He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.

⁸ “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline at table in the place of honor. A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by him,

⁹ and the host who invited both of you may approach you and say, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place.

¹⁰ Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.

¹¹ For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

¹² Then he said to the host who invited him, “When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment.

¹³ Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame,  the blind;

¹⁴ Blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

HOMILY

Fagin, in Charles Dickens’s Oliver Twist, offered this personal tip to Oliver: “Some conjurers say that number three is the magic number, and some say number seven. It is neither, my friend, neither. It is number one.” He was, of course, referring to himself. Egomania knows no bounds. For example, on his deathbed, the French philosopher Auguste Comte was heard uttering this mournful cry as he expired, “What an irreparable loss!” Almost a century later, the equally chesty American novelist Theodore Dreiser had the gall to prepare his last words, “Shakespeare, I come!” At a dinner, the painter James Mc Neill Whistler, was overheard muttering, “If other people are going to talk, conversation becomes impossible.” Winston Churchill once admitted, “We are all worms, but I do believe I am a glow-worm.”

Perhaps one reason we find these sayings tolerable is that so many are willing to kid their own egotism. George Bernard Shaw, for example, once confessed, “I often quote myself. It adds spice to my conversation.” And W.S. Gilbert once revealed that “You have no idea what a poor opinion I have of myself — and how little I deserve it.” Yet all of these are topped by Mark Twain’s tongue-in—cheek statement that recognized human pride, “Twenty- our years ago.. I was so handsome that human activities ceased as if spellbound when I came into view, and even inanimate things stopped to look — like locomotives and district messenger boys and so on. In San Francisco in the rainy season I was often taken for fair weather.”

By way of refreshing contrast, in the later years of John Millais, the painter, an art gallery in London had a show of his collected works. A visitor saw the painter coming from the collection with tears in his eyes. To the visitor’s questioning gaze, Millais looked up and said, “In looking at my earliest pictures I am overcome with chagrin that I have so far failed in my maturity to fulfil the full potential of my youth.” That is humility.

There seem to be two acceptable types of humility. The first is self-effacement — the habit of doing good deeds, or indeed just daily work, secretly or anonymously, without expecting thanks, A good example of that is a teacher who in preparation for Thanksgiving Day asked her class of first graders to draw a picture of something they were thankful for. She thought of how little these children from their poor neighbourhood had. She imagined that most of them would draw pictures of turkeys or tables with food.

But the teacher was taken aback with the picture little Douglas handed in — a childishly-drawn hand. The teacher showed it to the class to decide whose hand it was. “I think it must be the hand of God that brings us food,” said one child. “A farmer” said another, “because he grows the turkeys.” When the others were at work, the teacher bent over Douglas’ desk and asked whose hand it was. “It is your hand, teacher,” he mumbled.

It was only then that she recalled that frequently at recess she had taken Douglas, a scrubby forlorn child, by the hand. She often did that with the children; it had obviously meant a lot to Douglas. For herself, she was grateful for the chance, in whatever small way, to give self effacedly to others.

The second acceptable type of humility is linked to the first — the habit of being under authority. This doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with parental strictures or school rules or the necessary procedures of the office; it means simply the acknowledgement, all the time, of a power much higher than these, in whose hands we are and to whom we owe allegiance.

A fitting model for all aspects of humility is the early flowers of Spring — the primrose, the violet, the wood anemone. They bloom in hidden places: in woods, on broken ground, under hedges. We often smell these flowers before we see them; they spread their sweetness without asserting themselves, and wither as soon as they are picked and brought indoors to be admired. Their beauty lies in their self-effacement.

One of our Lord’s cherished characteristics is his special love for humble people. In today’s Gospel passage St Luke, following the classical Greek style of his day, organized different material into a unity. Because Jesus speaks in connection with sharing a meal on a Sabbath with some Pharisees (v. 1), the section is described as “Jesus’ table talk”. Jesus didn’t refuse invitations, even an enemy’s. You can’t make enemies into friends if you refuse to meet with them and talk.

Yet Jesus was under the Pharisees’ surveillance (v. 1). Few things are more trying than their kind of scrutiny of Jesus. It ordinarily makes you edgy, aloof, impersonal, careful. But Jesus remained serene, concerned, and fervent. There is some humour and irony in the situation: They are watching Jesus closely for some social gaffe, but Jesus’ observations lead him to criticize the values they betrayed by their table manners; He addressed his first lesson to the guests. Using their conduct at dinner as his jumping-off point, he lifted them to the more important eternal feast of heaven. The Pharisees took for granted that at that heavenly banquet they would have the places of honour; they never thought it possible that God might have a different seating arrangement.

The first part of Jesus’ straightforward lesson was that everyone who exalts himself will be humbled (v. 11). Jesus used this proverb frequently, in all kinds of different settings. His use on this occasion shows that he wasn’t teaching only social etiquette at table, even though etiquette comes before law in getting along with other people; you can’t get away without etiquette any more than you can decide not to use language. But what Jesus was doing here was drawing theological conclusions about the kingdom. God invites into membership those who are humble enough to recognize their need of salvation.

The warning here was pointed, but more kindly than Jesus’ former rebukes to Pharisees. As Jesus showed here, Gospel humility isn’t a religious sado-masochism instigated by self—hatred, or an obsequiousness motivated by a desire to be noticed. And it doesn’t preclude assertiveness, as Jesus showed when he used a whip in the Temple. But both humility and assertiveness require that we be true to our dignity as images of God.

The latter part of Jesus’ lesson to the guests was that the one who humbles himself will he exalted. A nervous rector once read this verse mistakenly to an amused congregation, “The one who humbles himself shall be exhausted.” Despite the mistake, it is true that humility requires effort and is difficult to achieve.

After thus addressing all of that to the guests, Jesus applied the lesson of humility to his host. To invite your friends or your relatives or your neighbours (v. 12) to a dinner is good, Jesus said, but can be calculated to get something in return — at the very least, good will and influence, and beyond that to get invited in turn, to hear the gossip, and perhaps even to get the job.

Jesus’ advice is to invite the poor and the handicapped (v. 13) who can’t repay you (v. 14). The Only real way to give is the way God did it. He gave because He so loved the world. The recompense for one who gives from that supernatural motive lies in a growing likeness to God Himself. And one who performs, even for an instant, an unselfish kindness, inevitably knows a blessedness that can come in no other way. That blessedness is, as Jesus said, a foretaste of how God will repay in the resurrection of the just.

Although the details of humility are uniquely Christian, the idea of humility was foreshadowed for a long time before — in today’s first reading, for example. It is from the Book of Sirach, which contains samples of the collected sayings of a famous teacher around 180 BC. Sirach is as up-to-date and timeless about humility as he is about much .of his other advice. Because his overall advice is hard to beat, in the early Church converts often received their moral training from his writings, and the book came to be known as “The Book of the Church” (Ecclesiasticus, from ecclesia, the Latin word for church).

‘Sirach realized that pride is the temptation of all pagan culture —such as the Hellenistic culture in Alexandria in Egypt to which the Jews were attracted. The same is true of the “self—image” concept of today’s pop psychology. “I’m okay, you’re okay,” says this psychology. But then Why is there so much wrong with the world? In the normal sense of the term, psychology aims to build up confidence in areas where we should be self—confident. Spirituality, on the other hand, is to move us in a faith direction by undermining confidence in the self so that we gain a confidence in God for Whom we have a bottomless need.

Sirach taught that humility gives a true estimate of self (vv. 17f). Humility is especially important for those in higher social strata (v. 18). Whereas through humility people perform their duty and avoid what is beyond their understanding and strength (vv. 20f), pride begets misjudgement, stubbornness, sorrow, affliction, and even perdition (W. 23—27).

Sirach says that humility helps us be attentive to God’s word (v. 28). And the water of kindness to the poor will quench the burning fire of puffed-up pride — which results mostly from a non-reflective approach to life and its challenges (v. 29). Pride requires only a false sense of superiority and aggression. Humility, on the other hand, demands true strength of character.

Pride is within us and all around us; that is why psychiatrists are jokingly referred to as “head shrinkers”. Ours is a world of assertiveness training, the hard sell, status-winning, jockeying for position, the power luncheon, and general one-up-manship. Our world, despite its lip service to the contrary, exists on the principle of the powerful and wealthy exploiting the poor and the lowly, and business carried on ruthlessly and without concern for any resulting human wreckage.

Our world puts its faith in Uriah Heep in the Charles Dickens novel David Copperfield who, when he perceives it to be to his advantage, contemptibly insists that he is “a humble man”, and with a “hook humility” fishes for compliments with a snare that shows through his false humility to a closet boaster. We are sometimes afraid of our own personal truth and keep secrets from ourselves. Through it all, our best lies are the ones we tell ourselves. So the call for humility requires special attention.

In brief, we need to remember that a mule doesn’t stop being dull just because he is carrying the precious cargo of a king. We are that mule. Realizing that, may we exercise authority with true humility; may we never manipulate, abuse, or victimize others; may we discover ways of strong and at the same time gentle responsibility for each other. And may our humility bring God’s love to all those we meet this week.