Readings:
Daniel 7.1-3, 15-18; Ps 149; Eph 1.11-23; Luke 20-31
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditation of my heart
be acceptable to you,
O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.
Around 20 years ago I went with my husband to visit his family. While we were there, we attended their local church. I can’t remember the time of year, maybe it was All Saint’s Day, maybe not, but at the beginning of the sermon, the preacher asked if we were saints or sinners. I don’t remember much more of the sermon except to say his argument on that day was to lead us towards an understanding of our saintliness.
Now, I come from a particularly conservative (and saint-less) background which emphasised our sinfulness and all we should be doing to pay God back for not smiting us right here and now. Being Christian was a defence mechanism. This was done so well that even several years later when visiting my in-laws’ church, I could not hear the preacher’s argument. I do remember my response over lunch: “I’m not a saint, I’m a sinner!”
Of course, I am not suggesting that there is no need for forgiveness. In our humanness, we all do specific things that cause harm, as well as the generic. However, knowing that forgiveness comes from God’s love and is designed to set us free is a most valuable part of our tradition. The tradition of the saints is another important part of our heritage. When we recite the Apostolic Creed, we confess that we believe in the communion of saints.
I first heard a definition that made sense to me from the then Executive Director of Brisbane Catholic Education, David Hutton: The saints are the heroes of our church. I have since realised this is widely used definition, no doubt because it gives us a framework to begin exploring. Who stands out as a hero of the faith to you?
The Beatitudes set out in Luke’s gospel differ subtly, but impactfully, from the ones that Matthew writes. Luke is not at all interested in spiritualising these, they are as blunt as the back of a knife. And they are radically political. If you can imagine that God is not partisan, this reading, I hope, will dispel that myth for you. God, especially as Luke portrays God, is absolutely on the side of the poor and the oppressed. It begins with Mary’s song, “God has brought down the powerful in from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty… (Luke 1.46f)
It continues with Jesus’ first words at the beginning of his ministry when he reads from Isaiah, ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’
And now, in the “Sermon on the Plain” (not the mount), he tells everyone, but especially his disciples that it is those who are poor, who are hungry, who are weeping, and who are abhorred that are blessed. Not the those who are rich, or who are full, or who laugh, or of whom every speaks well.
And as Elizabeth Johnson points out, the people who are experiencing poverty, hunger, sadness, and vilification are blessed not because of the circumstances, but because God is 100% on their side. She says, “The poor are blessed because God is on their side and because they are forced by their circumstances to rely solely on the mercy of God, from whom all sustenance comes. Blessed means not only that God exercises particular concern for one, but also that one relies exclusively on God.” (FoTW, YrC, Vol 4, p. 626.)
There are many saints who embody these calls to blessedness:
Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Sts Francis, and St Clare of Assisi. They both renounced the wealth of their families and lived in poverty as they understood the call of Jesus to be, and in doing so, they created communities that lived alongside those who were poor and cared for them to the best of their abilities.
Blessed are you who are hungry now, for your will be filled.
St Teresa of Calcutta, Mother Teresa, voluntarily hungered, as did St Elizabeth of Hungary. They both engaged in fasting so that they might have food to give to the poor around them. St Elizabeth was princess and fed people who were poor from kitchen, giving up her own food for them. Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity lived with the rule of simplicity and self-denial. This means their meals were deliberately plain and they practiced fasting both as part of their penance but also in solidarity with the people around them. She sometimes skipped meals or ate last to ensure others had food to eat ahead of her.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
St Monica, St Augustine’s mother, wept for his life and prayed continuously for his conversion.
St Mary Magdalene wept at Jesus’ feet, before the cross, and at the tomb. Because of her presence to her sorrow, she was the first witness to the resurrection and her journey from mourning to joy embodies the promise of laughter after tears.
Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
Saint Oscar Romero, was the Archbishop of the city of San Salvador, in El Salvador. He spoke valiantly of the poverty and oppression of the local people there. He made waves and those in power, including the church, were agitated by it and eventually he was murdered in church, while celebrating the mass, in 1980.
In the 1880s, the Martyrs of Uganda were executed by their king because they, being new converts to Christianity, began to oppose some of the kings actions. The first martyr rebuked the king for executing an Anglican Bishop. The others were then rounded up and told to renounce their faith or be executed, 45 in all.
Our very own St Catherine of Alexandria also falls into this category, and as we know she is likely an amalgamation of many young women’s stories from early Christianity. She was imprisoned because she rejected the advances of the emperor; she saw herself married to Jesus, and therefore could not accept any suiter, let alone the already married and non-Christian emperor. She was an effective evangelist and teacher which also brought the ire of the emperor who had her murdered for it.
The communion of saints is grows in its importance for my spiritual life. The witness of just these few people, and the saints around me in this life, inspire my life with God. I am so grateful for them and I strive to see where I can be more like them, more like Jesus who lived in solidarity with all those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and abhorred. I know that it can bring danger with it. I don’t want to be abhorred or hungry, or weep, or be poor, and yet I know that it is through these things that my life with God is grounded more and more deeply. We have the warnings against the opposite, the woes to the rich, the full, the laughing, those of whom people speak very well. It is dangerous because it takes away our reliance upon God.
The last words of Jesus’ here help us in how to live this out. Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. Return violence with non-violent resistance; give to those who need and those who would take from you. Do to others as you would have them do to you.
When we live in these ways, we become the saints of the church.
May we all live to be life-giving examples to those around us.
Amen.