The Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
My homily for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A), preached at the Basilica of St. Josaphat in Milwaukee, Wisconsin
In 1949, an English writer named Eric Arthur Blair published a novel depicting what he believed was in store for humanity. In a world constantly at world, a totalitarian regime has outlawed individuality and independent thought. Control is the order of the day. The citizens are bombarded by a constant stream of propaganda intended to reshape their view of themselves and their world according to the preferences of those in power.
For the sake of “order,” there are cameras and microphones in homes, workspaces, and public places. Written correspondence is routinely opened and read by the government before it’s delivered. The “Thought Police” employ undercover agents, who pose as normal citizens and deal with anyone who isn’t complying. Children are encouraged to report suspicious persons to the government; some children hand over their parents. Authority is absolute and the smallest sign of rebellion, even a suspicious facial expression, can result in immediate arrest and imprisonment. There is no choice but to obey.
And then there is the puppet master, the one pulling all the strings. But who is the leader who stands so far removed from the world he has made, maintaining control through fear and by forcing the people into submission? The author tells us: “Big Brother.”
“Big Brother is infallible and all-powerful. Every success, every achievement, every victory, every scientific discovery, all knowledge, all wisdom, all happiness, all virtue, are held to issue directly from his leadership and inspiration.”
Now, I’m sure many of you have figured out by now that the book that I’m describing is 1984 and the author, Eric Arthur Blair, is better known by his pen name George Orwell.
Within the novel and the world that Orwell created, there is a constant sense of foreboding. The citizens comply because, if they do not, the consequences are swift and severe. And, as we know, Orwell’s book isn’t simply fiction: these dynamics were certainly at work in the dictatorships and communist regimes that emerged following the Second World War. Even today, there are too many places in the world where governments and those with power use threats and coercion to force compliance and ensure that their will, their preferences are the order of the day.
Sadly, there are also those who live their faith in this same way. I know—and perhaps you do too—Christians for whom God is a sort of “Big Brother” who is always watching, scrutinizing our every move, waiting for us to step out of line.
But, what happens when we begin to apply Orwell’s vision to God?
What does religion become when, rather than living and acting out of gratitude for God’s gifts, we are motivated to simply obey because, if we don’t, the consequences will be severe… and there will be hell to pay?
Now, I’m not denying the reality of divine judgment and, of course, we are being invited, again and again, to live lives that are in keeping with God’s vision for us and all of creation.
What I’m talking about right now is a question of motives.
Why do we do what we do?
What informs and inspires how we live out our faith?
What is our image of God—who do we understand God to be—and what does our understanding of God call us to be and to do?
Time and again the words of Scripture recall for us God’s goodness and faithfulness and, in a particular way the Readings proclaimed this Sunday present for us a vision of God’s watchful care that stands in stark contrast to the scrutinizing, merciless judgment of that “Big Brother”-god whose judgment casts its long shadow of every aspect of life.
“Jesus took up the biblical faith in God the Creator, emphasizing a fundamental truth: God is Father (cf. Mt 11:25). In talking with his disciples, Jesus would invite them to recognize the paternal relationship God has with all his creatures. With moving tenderness he would remind them that each one of them is important in God’s eyes: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God” (Luke 12:6). “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them” (Matthew 6:26).”
-Pope Francis, Laudato Si, no. 96
In the First Reading, we heard the words of the Prophet Jeremiah. “Terror on every side!” he declares, because even his supposed friends are watching, waiting for their chance to attack: “Perhaps he will be trapped,” they scheme, “then we can prevail, and take our vengeance.”
And yet, even as Jeremiah recognizes what is going on around him, he doesn’t choose fear. He names his trust: “The Lord is with me, like a mighty champion: / my persecutors… will not triumph.” Jeremiah is able to courageously continue his mission because he has come to know and believe in the abiding presence of this God who is the friend of the poor.
Jesus makes this clear for us in the Gospel passage we heard just a few minutes ago. Beginning by telling the disciples, “Fear no one,” he goes on to explain why there is no room for fear in faith:
Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin?
Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge.
Even all the hairs of your head are counted.
So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
Jesus isn’t denying the challenges, the possible rejection, or even suffering that that the disciples will face in fulfilling the mission he is entrusting to them. But he also makes it clear that there is no reason to choose fear.
If God cares so much for a tiny bird, how much more is God concerned for the disciples? How much more is God, who hears the cry of the poor, concerned for us?
If God can count the number of hairs on our heads, then how much more knowledgeable is God about what we need?
There is no place for fear because, each of us, is of infinite value in the sight of God.
In the end, God’s attentive care for us, God’s awareness of our thoughts, words, feelings, and our actions isn’t like Orwell’s “Big Brother” and that grasping for power through forced submission. Rather, the fact that God knows us better than we know ourselves—including our fears and failures, our thoughts and dreams—should free us… free us to let go of the need to grasp at control ourselves, free us from pretense, but, most of all, free us from fear.
"See, you lowly ones, and be glad;
you who seek God, may your hearts revive!
For the LORD hears the poor,
and his own who are in bonds he spurns not.
Let the heavens and the earth praise him,
the seas and whatever moves in them!''—Psalm 69:33-35
Amen.
