4th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year A
Blessed are you…
In October 2000, I had the privilege of visiting the home village of the late Julius Nyerere, the father of the nation of Tanzania. We were visiting the grave of this great Catholic, now a Servant of God and whose process of beatification is still in progress. In this dusty little village – Butiama, not far from Lake Victoria – world’s great leaders had gathered a year earlier to lay to rest the remains of the first president of Tanzania. It was an awesome experience to note that an African president had spent his early days and the final days in this remote simple location: with no drive, no gates, no green lawn, no mansions. As I stood praying at his grave, admiring the simplicity of the surrounding, I had this thought come over me: here lies a man who lived the Beatitudes!
Jesus, the new Moses
The gospel reading of last Sunday (Mt 4:12-23) narrated to us how Jesus started his public ministry in Capernaum, and how he began to gather a community of people by calling the first apostles to follow him. This Sunday, the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, the gospel reading presents to us the first public proclamation of Jesus according to the Gospel of Matthew. If in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus’ proclamation at the synagogue in Nazareth (Lk 4:14-22) could be considered the mission statement of Jesus, in the Gospel of Matthew, what we heard read today (Mt 5:1-12) could be considered the manifesto of Jesus. This is popularly known as ‘the Sermon on the Mount’.
The evangelist Matthew is writing his gospel primarily for a Jewish audience. Therefore, he narrates the stories and teachings of Jesus in a specific style and with some explicit agenda. He wants to show that Jesus is the promised Messiah, the Anointed One of the Lord. He tries to show the continuity and the completion of the Hebrew Scriptures (the Old Testament). He does this by quoting often from the Hebrew Scriptures. In a very non-threatening manner Matthew also presents the uniqueness and newness in Jesus: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil (Mt 5:17).
In the gospel text of today, Matthew presents Jesus as the new Moses. “Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill” (Mt 5:1). Just as Moses went up Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments and thus to found the Jewish nation and religion, Jesus goes up the hill to form a new community of people: “There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak.” In traditional cultures, including the African culture, when important teaching is delivered by an elder, he sits down. The Latin expression, ex cathedra (literally meaning ‘out of the chair’), captures the sense of authority in the teaching delivered by the leader who is seated. Jesus is not alone on top of the hill. He is in the company of the disciples. And Jesus’ message is addressed to the disciples who are also on top of the hill. He will speak pretty long (Chapters 5, 6, and 7 of the Gospel of Matthew). Today’s gospel text is only the opening statement and the rest of the Sermon on the Mount is, as it were, a commentary on this. Mathew would conclude the whole Sermon with an eschatological statement – about the end times as in the Book of Revelations (21:1): “When Jesus had come down from the mountain, great crowds followed him” (Mt 8:1).
The Ideals of the Christian Calling
Despite these parallels between Jesus and Moses, in the Gospel of Matthew and in the gospel text of today, we cannot miss the contrast. It is in this contrast that we recognise the uniqueness of Jesus. It is in identifying this newness in Jesus that we begin to appreciate the demand and the privilege of our own Christian calling. Moses went up Mt Sinai to come down the mountain with the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments are a list of prescriptions and proscriptions: do this, and don’t do this – four do’s, and six don’ts, to be precise. On the other hand, Jesus’ manifesto is full of promises. It is not about doing, but about being. It is not about avoiding wrong doing, but it is about growth in virtue. Jesus proposes a new set of human values: simplicity, gentleness, acceptance of suffering, righteousness, mercy, purity of intention, peace, truth, and above all, being ready to suffer for the sake of these values. These values are not to be brought about by force of tyranny, but by the very lives of the disciples of Jesus. And hence, the suffering!
Often when I hear Christians judging themselves, even in the confessional, in terms of the Ten Commandments, I ask myself: are they trying to be perfect (legalistic) Jews or are they growing to be good Christians? It is so easy not to see the point. The Ten Commandments prescribe the basic requirements to live in a human society; but the promises of Jesus are the characteristics of the Kingdom of God. “You have heard that it was said… but I say this to you… (Mt 5:21, 27, 33, 38, 43). The criterion for our perfection is the Father Himself (Mt 5:48), and the perfection of the Father is that he is merciful (Lk 6:36; see also Mt 5:7 of today’s gospel). The criterion for love of your neighbour is not “as you love yourself” (Lev 19:18, 34; and in Mt 19:19 and Mt 22:39, Jesus is only quoting Leviticus), but, as Jesus himself has loved you. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (Jn 13:34; Jn 15:12). These high standards are perennial truths that challenge the growth of human consciousness.
Most of us might not measure up to these extraordinary standards, but we don’t have to manipulate the measures and minimise the standards. Besides, Jesus is not threatening us with a fear of punishment if we don’t measure up. He is encouraging us with his promise of the Kingdom. Jesus is not focussed on establishing an ethical system, but to usher in the Reign of God.
Blessed are the gentle
We know from our own experience that when these values of the kingdom are lived in an exemplary way, they do work, and they offer the promise of the ideal world. Numerous examples could be cited for each of the Beatitudes. I would like to conclude only with a very telling anecdote from the history of the Church as an example for one of the Beatitudes.
By the year 1095 AD much of, what we refer to as the Holy Land had fallen to the hands of Muslim Caliphs. In 1095, the First Crusades were launched in response to the request of the Byzantine Emperor Alexius I, who appealed to the Holy See to defend his empire against the attack of the Seljuk Turks. The crusades were originally aimed at recapturing Jerusalem and the Holy Land from Muslim rule, so as to ensure the protection of these holy places and to provide security to the pilgrims. As it turns out when religion mixes with politics, soon crusades were dominated by political and commercial motivations. These wars mark a violent time in world history, and a scar in the history of Christianity. The nine crusades that were fought by armies over a period of 200 years produced no lasting results. They were nothing compared to the blessings brought about by one man who lived the spirit of the Beatitudes.
St Francis of Assisi came to the Holy Land in the year 1219 and over a period of six months paid frequent visits to Sultan of Egypt in a spirit of gentleness and with the message of peace. Today, in and around Jerusalem, many of the churches built by the crusaders have disappeared, but the followers of St Francis have the privilege of caring for most of the Christian cites of the Holy Land.
Happy are the gentle; they shall have the earth for their heritage.