27th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Over the last five Sundays we have had similar scripture readings. These are known as crisis parables, parables in which Jesus confronts his listeners with a choice. There are two contexts if you like. We are reaching the end of Matthew's gospel, the 21st chapter of 28 in all. So as Jesus approaches Jerusalem and his death, his teachings take on a new urgency. He and they have reached a cross-roads: they can follow him to Jerusalem, or remain at home and unchanged.
Between now and the end of the Church year, we will be dealing with these crisis parables. On next Sunday, for example, we will have the parable of the Wedding Garment, or, more correctly, no wedding garment! These are crisis parables because Matthew is writing for a community in crisis. He is writing in 80ad. The Romans had destroyed the Temple in 70. The Jewish people are being persecuted by the Romans. But the Christian sect is being persecuted in turn by the Jewish leaders. Some of the new sect had already been expelled. Matthew is telling his community to look back to the experiences of Jesus himself. Expulsion and rejection was central to his experience of life. Matthew is saying to them: "Take heart. It is not the end of the world if we are expelled from the synagogue. Rejection was central to the experience of our founder. If we are authentic followers, can we expect to be treated differently?"
The parable he tells bears out his contention. The parable is set on the eve of the entry to Jerusalem on the first Palm Sunday. In fact Jesus had already sent the two disciples to secure the animal on whose back he would make his triumphal entry. In other words, Jesus was coming to terms with the failure (or at least apparent failure) of his mission. He was painfully aware of the traditional relationship between Jerusalem and the prophets. He was aware too that his entry to Jerusalem would provoke the hostility of the authorities. This then is the immediate context of the parable of the wretches killing the heir to the Kingdom. He, the heir apparent to his Father's Kingdom, would be murdered by men for ignoble motives. If Jerusalem treated the heir to the kingdom in this way, you must not be surprised if they now expel his followers from the synagogue.
But the parable had a wider application. The good news was rejected by the very people to whom it was first addressed. In other words, the Good News was not recognised for what it was. It proved more convenient to reject it than to accept it, given the demands for conversion that Jesus made on his listeners.
Christianity is often perceived as being anti-Jewish. The first generation of those who heard the Good News rejected it; and that first generation was entirely composed of Jews. But this is an oversimplification. After all it was in the land of Israel that the Word of God first found an echo. The documents of the Second Vatican Council stress this very point. It states: "The Church cannot forget that she draws nourishment from the good olive tree {that is, the Jewish race} onto which the wild olive branches of the gentiles have been grafted. The Jews remain God's chosen people since God does not take back the gifts he has bestowed or revoke the choices he has made."
What we tend to forget is that the Good News is refuted and rejected in every generation. The first generation of listeners did not reject the Good News because they were Jews. Like every generation after them, they rejected it for a wide variety of reasons. Some rejected it because they did not recognise it as Good News. Like the man in the first reading, they have been conditioned to recognise sour grapes only. But others still rejected it because they were weak human beings. They rejected it because they recognised the demands it would make upon them. Today we often hear people dismissing the gospel as irrelevant. By this I presume they mean that it is unrelated to life. But in fact what they mean is that it doesn't figure in their agenda. And we must always remain open to the possibility that it is their agenda, rather than the Gospel that is defective. Furthermore, any gospel that demands universal unselfishness cannot expect universal approval.
But what sustains the Christian is the fact that the Good News has remained a vital influence in the world for two millennia. It has worked spectacularly in the lives of the saints who have taken it seriously. The rest of us, who have tried to live it occasionally, have probably been more depressed by its demands than impressed by its rewards. But through all this fog, the unselfish and noble personality of Jesus still shines. As long as mankind retains within its soul a noble instinct, this delightful character, Jesus Christ, will continue to be attractive. However, the great majority of us will spend far more time admiring him from a distance than following him closely.