4th Sunday of Ordinary Time
After the resurrection, the scriptures tell us, the followers of Jesus continued to attend Jewish prayers and services at their local synagogues. They met privately in their homes for the breaking of the bread, or the Eucharist. And it was around this ritual that the new communities formed. But, as yet, they had no idea that the road they were taking would diverge from Orthodox Judaism. They continued to practice as devout Jews. But, with time, the synagogue authorities began to question their allegiance to this dead man Jesus. Was their devotion to him, the fact that they claimed he was still alive, compatibly with Judaism? Increasingly, the synagogue authorities were concluding that such devotion to Jesus and Orthodox Judaism were just not compatible.
So the followers of Jesus are expelled from the synagogue. For a Jew to be barred from his synagogue was a traumatic experience. The synagogue and the Temple were at the centre of their lives. It had nourished their ancestors. Its memory had kept their nation and their identity alive during long and bitter exiles. So expulsion from the synagogue meant that their roots were being amputated. They were treated as pariahs by the wider Jewish community. They were shunned, and contact with they was discouraged. Matthew's community had suffered this traumatic indignity. The writer of today's gospel excerpt has that scenario in mind. It sets out to put new heart into his devastated, ostracised community. And some sections of this extract will only make sense in this context. It is a rallying-cry to the new community, and an invitation to them to view their immediate circumstances from a broader perspective. The sermon is, after all, set on a mountain, hinting at a broader perspective.
In fact St. Luke's version -written at a later time when the persecutions were more intense, elaborates on that last paragraph of the Matthew excerpt:
"Happy you who are hungry now; you shall be satisfied; Happy you who weep now, you shall laugh; Happy are you when people hate you, drive you out, abuse you, denounce your name as criminal, on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice when that day comes and dance for joy, for then your reward will be great in heaven. This was the way their ancestors treated the prophets."
The second part of the sermon as presented in St. Luke's version is condemnatory in tone, castigating those complacent Jews who had expelled the Christians.
"But, alas for you who are rich; you are having your consolation now; Alas for you who have your fill now; you shall go hungry. Alas for you who laugh now; you shall mourn and weep. Alas for you when the world speaks well of you! This was the way their ancestors treated the false prophets."
Matthew and Luke are telling their communities that, despite the persecutions and sufferings of the moment, the future will be theirs. They pointed back to their history, finding parallels with the true prophets. This is a rallying cry, telling them to hang in there, to continue celebrating the Eucharist in their homes, and to stay with it.
So these are the particular circumstances behind these two versions of the sermon of the mountain. But, as Christians, we believe that the words of Jesus have a universal application, that they are addressed to us too who have joined in the pilgrimage over 2000 years later. We must extract their meaning for ourselves and for our circumstances today. The most obvious application is the challenge of the prophetic role. Those who follow Jesus will always find themselves swimming against the tide. The authentic follower will always find it necessary to question received ideas, to challenge current practice, to expose current orthodoxy as mere fashion. Just like the fish, the prophetic Christian will die if he swims with the stream.
A good example of this prophetic element is our attitude to wealth and its idealisation. On the surface, the gospel might appear to be an idealisation of poverty and a condemnation of riches. Jesus did not advocate poverty as a value to be sought for its own sake; in fact he viewed material poverty and deprivation as an evil that should be eliminated. He was concerned instead with the store we set on wealth, on riches, with the store we set on all things superficial in fact. He was concerned with perspective. He was concerned that we would have a true appreciation of what was really valuable in this life.
We live in a world that praises efficiency, glorifies success and worships power. Society announces that happiness comes from wealth, affluence and freedom from any form of pain. These are the goals that are proposed to our young people as ideals. And the ideals are propagated through every channel of communication in our society. While there is nothing wrong in itself with aspiring to the BMW, or any such spores of the Celtic Tiger, Jesus warns us that their superficiality will be exposed in the day of trial. If we rely on such things for peace and happiness, they will fail us. The truth is we have not got a steady grip on life. Suffering and death is a reality that will not go away. Even if all other problems were suitably resolved we would still have to contend with death. Jesus is not against our striving for true happiness; After all, he came that we might have life and have it abundantly. But he bluntly warns us against putting our trust exclusively in material comforts because, in the long run, it will turn out to be a misplaced confidence. There is more to life than superficial passing things. Our hungers are greater than those addressed by material things alone. Jesus told us that the Kingdom of God dwells within us. If that divine spark within us is not nourished and sustained through prayer and charity, then we will remain forever hungry and dissatisfied.