The Rejection of Jesus (4th Sunday Ordinary C)

At a dinner for a cause with a group of prospective benefactors in Manila, I was warmly welcomed by a Doňa who started to show delight in listening to what I do in Mindanao. In the course of our conversation, she asked about the presence of Muslims in Mindanao and expressed her strong aversion to them. Wanting to offer her a new way of seeing and to loosen up her apparent prejudice, I told her about my friendship with some Muslims I know. In short, I told her that in my observation a truly religious Muslim is one that pleases God too.

I thought I was doing just fine until I realized that the rich lady did not like our conversation.  For the rest of the dinner, she gave me the cold shoulder. I realized too what a lousy fundraiser I was!

Jesus, in today’s gospel (Lk 4:21-30), evokes initial delight from his kinsfolk as he announces the fulfillment of the messianic prophecy of Isaiah in his person and ministry. But as he continues to address them, he eventually gets the ire of the people. The gospel reading ends in a violent rejection of Jesus by the people.

Why is Jesus rejected? In Luke’s account two reasons may be gleaned: First, the exclusive mindset of the people of Israel clashes with Jesus’ message of the universal love of God and, second, the prophetic stance of Jesus does not conform to their long-held beliefs.

The universality of God’s love versus the religious exclusivity of Israel. The people of Nazareth, in solidarity with the belief of the whole of Israel, had been made to believe very strongly that God’s promise of salvation is for them—as in exclusively for them! After all, they were the chosen people of God. God’s fidelity was seen as his exclusive love for his chosen people. The pagans, for certain, were excluded. They did not deserve God’s grace.

But in the gospel today, Jesus is radically overturning this belief with his announcement of the universal love of God. He points out to them how the prophet Elijah was sent during a severe famine to a widow not in Israel but in Zarephath in the land of Sidon. And during the time of prophet Elisha when there were many lepers in Israel, only Naaman the Syrian was cured (vv. 25-28). The God of Jesus cares for pagans too!

The Nazarenes think that they are exclusively entitled to the wonders that Jesus is said to accomplish. But Jesus announces a universal ministry. Hence, they reject Him as they cannot bear the thought that people outside their own family, clan, or milieu can share in the same grace or privilege.

Sometimes we also think and act this way. We wish every blessing the people in our circle—family, friends, organizations, social class, and religion. But we don’t care for those who are outside. Our calling to love seems to end within the exclusive boundary that we have set. Today’s gospel then is an invitation for us to examine our tendencies to exclusivity and to recognize the universality of God’s grace and the gift of salvation. In simple terms, Jesus is presenting to us God as the loving Father of all peoples. Instead of grumbling, we ought to rejoice at the blessings of others.

Do we praise God when people outside our intimate circle are blessed?

Jesus’ prophetic stance versus the convenience of conformity.  For the Nazarenes in today’s gospel reading, the good news is that which conforms to their expectations, desires, wishes, and long-held beliefs. What contradicts or supersedes their beliefs meets outright rejection. Jesus is rejected because his prophetic stance does not in anyway conform to their wishes.  Jesus is therefore seen as a threat rather than as a bearer of glad tidings.

Christianity today can also tumble into the same pitfall when it becomes too comfortable with what is. When it is too identified with the status quo to see the injustices, Christianity can become un-prophetic. When it is too closed-minded to embrace new perspectives and innovative approaches, it can become stagnant and irrelevant.

Jesus’ consistent prophetic stance reminds us not to settle easily with the convenience of conformity. This is despite the threat of rejection or persecution. We always wish to have a better society, but we find it difficult to achieve it because most of us are contented to ride safely where the current goes; we conform, for instance, with the "standard operating procedures"--our euphemism for systematized under-the-table transactions; we sell our votes because everybody is doing it anyway; we passively allow our natural resources to be plundered and destroyed beyond remedy. At the end of the day, we point our fingers to one another for the ills of our society oblivious of the fact that what we need to do is to be prophetic enough to stand firm on the values of God's kingdom thereby challenging the sinful structures that we ourselves built .

Can we be prophetic enough to challenge beliefs, practices, immoral procedures we observe in our work places? Can we commit to proclaim and work for better structures in society guided by the gospel values despite the risk of being rejected?

Today’s gospel then invites us to do two things: to rejoice when others are blessed and to be prophetic amid the ills of our society.

Glad Tidings to the Poor (3rd Sunday Ordinary C)

“I am such a miserable man!” blurted out Jean Valjean, the main protagonist of Victor Hugo’s masterpiece, Les Misérables, upon realizing the depth of his wretchedness wrought by the cruelty of society and its oppressive laws and customs. He has become bitter and hateful, his heart hardened by nineteen years of imprisonment, all because of stealing a loaf of bread to feed her starving sister and her children! Yet this realization is now the turning point of his life. He has to change. The kindly Bishop Myriel, from whom he has stolen some precious silverware, has just treated him as a person with dignity, with a soul worthy of redemption. The bishop’s compassion and mercy, a stark contrast to the condemnation he is used to receive, gives him hope, invites him to transform himself into an honest man. Indeed, in the story, Jean Valjean changes from a miserable thief to a man with vision, a compassionate philanthropist who helps transform a town and significantly the lives of two other miserable ones: the unwed mother turned-prostitute, Fantine, and her abused child, Cosette.

The musical adaptation of this great 19th century masterpiece allows more people of today both to enjoy the arts and, more significantly, to be scandalized by society’s cruelty on those who are weak and powerless. As Victor Hugo would have it as the purpose of his work: “So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth..., so long as the three great problems of the century—the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light—are unsolved... books of the nature of Les Misérables cannot fail to be of use.”

Today millions are still in the misery of poverty, oppression, and powerlessness because those who are in power and control of resources find it politically and economically expedient to keep them that way.

Election in the Philippines is forthcoming. I bet people will hear the same tune of promises from political candidates, assuring the people of redemption from their misery. But election times, as we know all too well, have never failed to come up with great promises and have consistently toyed with the flickering hope of the poor. What we want to see is the fidelity of a leader to his/her words of promises and the genuine compassion for the miserable ones. Without fidelity, promises however great they may be are empty. Without genuine compassion, identification with the poor is but a show and a veiled exploitation.

Today’s gospel reading (Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21) features Jesus’ inauguration of his messianic ministry. Facing the people of Nazareth in the synagogue, Jesus reads the messianic prophecy from the scroll of Isaiah. He proclaims thus: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me… He has anointed me… to bring glad tidings to the poor… to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free… to announce a year of favor from the Lord” (v. 18-19).

And while all eyes are intently fixed on him as he hands back the scroll, he boldly proclaims the inauguration of the messianic time: “Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing” (v. 21). This is like saying: “Today I come as the fulfilment of this promise. Today I inaugurate the messianic task of bringing the good news to the poor, to the captives, to the blind, to the oppressed.”

Allow me to highlights two things: First, the fidelity of God to his words and promise; second, Jesus’ identification of his mission with the poor.

God’s Fidelity to his Promise. In the person and mission of Jesus, God has fulfilled his promise of long ago to save his people from all forms of misery rooted in sin. Jesus is the fulfilment of the messianic prophecy (v. 21). Jesus, the Messiah, has ushered in the Kingdom of God where the poor celebrate the bounty of God, the captives enjoy a life of freedom, the blind rejoice in seeing the beauty that surrounds them, the oppressed cherish their dignity.

When God promises, God makes good of that. We are never left empty. How has God been faithful to his promise to me? How has he been liberating me from the clout of sin that oppresses me?

As Christians we continue the mission of Christ. We are asked to be faithful to the gospel we preach. The miserable ones of our society are yearning for such fidelity. Have we not left our words and promises empty? As a Church, have we not paid a lip-service to our commitment to the poor?

Jesus’ Identification with the Poor. The first and privileged recipients of the Messiah’s mission are the socially and physically deprived, the economically poor, and the politically oppressed. The gospel of Luke brings this out in Jesus’ personal dealings and his teaching. In this inaugural proclamation, Jesus pronounces that his prophetic ‘anointing’ is to identify him with the lowliest and the most forgotten.

Today, as in the context of Les Misérables, the poor continue to be exploited, women and children to be abused. Am I part of those who are taking advantage of the helplessness of these miserable ones? The gospel today invites us to be identified with the helpless as Jesus was. This means cultivating genuine compassion and love for the least of our brothers and sisters and spending time, treasure, and talent to bring the glad tidings of change to their miserable lives.

In Les Misérables, Bishop Myriel’s silver candlesticks are the most prominent symbol of compassion as they shed the light of love and hope. The bishop’s gesture of giving Valjean the silver candlesticks is a haunting invitation for Valjean to rise from his misery and to pass on the same redemptive compassion to those who need it. Our baptismal candle too reminds us of Jesus’ mission being passed unto us, his disciples, to make a difference in society as we bring the glad tidings of God’s compassion and love to the miserable ones.

Gifts of the Magi (Epiphany C)

Christmas gift-giving in the early centuries was originally done on the Feast of Epiphany understandably on account of the Magi’s presentation of gifts to the infant Jesus as we hear in the Gospel reading today.  With our present practice though, all the exchanging of gifts have been done by now and what’s left probably are the piles and litters of gift wrappers and boxes in our rooms (or in my room particularly).

But we can still take this Feast of Epiphany as an opportunity to make sense of our experience of gift-giving on Christmas.  Is there still sense to it?

The Lettermen’s “What Can I Give You this Christmas?” is one of my favourite Christmas songs. Some lines stand out for me as meaningful:

What can I give you this Christmas?
Not a thing that I’ve seen will do
So I’ll give you my heart and my own true love
That will last the whole year through.

I resonate not so much with the Lettermen’s genre as with the song’s expression of the existential ache common to us all to give no less our heart when we love.  Love compels us to give. One cannot love without giving. Giving is an act of love. Gifts then are signs of love, symbols of our hearts.  Oftentimes, however, we find the Christmas exchange of gifts a mere routine for merry-making, an activity to fill in the Christmas parties we have organized.  So that after all the parties, the real gift-giving happens in a less conspicuous way when we approach the people we truly care for and hand them what represents our love for them or when we quietly reach out  in charity to those who are less fortunate.

In today’s gospel (Mt. 2:1-12), the wise men from the east inspire our practice of gift-giving.  After travelling far and wide in search of the Lord, the Magi, led by a brightly shining star, found the infant Jesus with Mary his mother. “They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then, they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (v. 11).

Again, gifts are symbols of love.  In this particular event, the gifts of the Magi highlighted the great irony in the history of salvation:  The pagan people, represented by the wise men from the east, had come to express their love to Jesus and to receive the Messiah while the chosen people of Israel who had been waiting for their promised saviour would eventually hate and reject him.

Gold is a gift befitting a king for gold stands as the king of metals. With this gift the Magi expressed their love and acceptance of Jesus as King. This was in stark contrast to the evil intent of Herod, Israel’s King, against the child whom he saw as threat to his kingship. The frankincense, moreover, is high quality incense, the aroma and smoke of which goes up heavenward and exudes divinity.  With this gift, the magi expressed their love and worship of Jesus as God.  The God of Israel became then the God of all nations.  The third gift, myrrh, is used as a perfume in the preparation of the dead for burial. This gift foreshadowed the passion and death of our Lord as human being. With this gift, the magi expressed their love and acceptance of the humanity of Jesus and his obedience unto death.

On this Feast of Epiphany then, we may do well to pose some reflective questions pertaining to our experience of gift-giving this Christmas:

What gift did I receive that I am most grateful for? Right now my place is still in shambles as I come back from Christmas break.  As I start to get rid of the litters of gift wrappers, ribbons, boxes and what not, I realize it is not for a particular gift which has come with the wrappings that I am most thankful.  It is the gift of friendship, of love and of family that has made the Christmas season not just merry but truly happy for me. For others, there may be some outstanding gifts that they can easily be grateful for.  In whatever case, this Feast of Epiphany invites us to relish our sense of gratitude and just be thankful.

What gift have I given that bears the sign of my heart? How have I given this Christmas? Have I given with love? Have I reached out to those who are in need? Our honest answer to this will allow us either to appreciate our own capacity to share and to be selfless or to be aware of our tendency to be close to ourselves and to our own needs.  Let Epiphany be a manifestation for us of our own capacity to give love or our need to grow more in it.

What gift have I given to Jesus who is the be-all-and-end-all of this season? Despite the widespread annual celebration of Christmas, our societies have given way to secularism. God and His precepts have been increasingly brushed aside from public affairs. There is even talk of renaming the Christmas tree into holiday tree to avoid the religious connotation of Christmas! While the present day Herods reject God, can we continue to stand by Jesus as our King, worship Him as our God, love Him and suffer with Him as one among us?

We may have crooned and belted out Christmas songs this season including my favorite, promising to give even our hearts as gift, but the real challenge is that on this Feast of the Epiphany we are called to offer to the Lord once more the gifts of the Magi.