26 October 2007

Ummmmm. . .tasty!

29th Week OT(F): Romans 7.18-25 and Luke 12.54-59
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert
the Great Priory and Church of the Incarnation

[NB. Not recorded just yet...]

The classroom is empty. Again. Third day in a row. I walk to the departmental office and spend about fifteen minutes with the secretary trying to figure out why my students—all 320 of them in nine courses—are not coming to class. Her English is as bad as my Chinese. Finally, she takes me into the hallway and points at a small chalkboard and says, “Away, away.” Apparently, the beautifully rendered pictographs— some resembling row boats on a river of bamboo and others complex computational formulae—apparently these explain to me that my students are in Shanghai for a week, practicing their English on unsuspecting American tourists. I am illiterate and therefore incapable of acting according to the signs.

My failure as a reader of Chinese pictographs was (and still is) a matter of ignorance. I just don’t know how to do translate Chinese. The multitudes facing Jesus are in a slightly different predicament. They can read the signs shown them, properly interpreting and translating the cloud formations and wind temperature to predict correctly upcoming weather conditions. But they will not to translate and interpret properly the signs Jesus has given them, signs that point to his identity as their long-awaited Messiah. For Jesus, this is a matter of their hypocrisy rather than their ignorance.

How are these “illiterate” people being hypocritical? First, they are clamoring after Jesus, asking for sign after sign to prove that he is who he says he is. Each sign seems to demand another until he yells at them exasperated: “You generation of vipers! No sign will be given you but the sign of Jonah!” Their calls for more signs is not a desire for certainty but a lust for spectacle. Second, if their “illiteracy” is willful, that is, if they are merely pretending ignorance of the significance of Jesus’ signs, then they are indeed hearing the Word but failing to welcome the Word into their lives. And, third, and probably most frustrating to Jesus, is that their hypocrisy is an outright denial of their prophetic heritage as a priestly people. The observant Jews in the crowd have celebrated the Passover annually and know that their people await the coming of the Messiah. They know the signs. They know what to look for with Christ’s coming. Yet, still they clamor for more miracles, more evidence, more and better theater.

Paul helps us understand this a little better: “…if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me…when I want to do right, evil is at hand.” Here we have a common, human experience of confronting our disobedience: we know the right thing to do, but we choose not to do it. Evil is at hand. Not an external, demonic force but an internal desire to have our own way contra God’s will for us. Repulsed by what we are called to do in God’s will, we instead wait for another sign, clamor for yet another showing, a tastier, prettier warning.

Though we may empathize with our ancestors here, it is too late for us to feign illiteracy! We are well beyond the moment of convincing that Jesus is who he says he is. We do not have the luxury of leisurely, willful doubt. Paul, the miserable one, asks in his misery: “Who will deliver me from this mortal body?” Who will save him from his flesh, the skin and bones of his disobedience? Of course, this is a rhetorical question! Surely, Paul, converted to an apostle from his life as a persecutor of Christ’s family, converted by a direct encounter with the resurrected Christ, surely, he knows who has saved him from his disobedience. For us too, we who will come forward to eat and drink the Body and Blood of Christ in our eucharist, we too know who has saved us from our disobedience. The question for us now is: do we leave here wanting more, running after more and better signs? Tastier, prettier, more dramatic indications that we are loved by a merciful Father? What more do we need?

Is there a tastier, more beautiful miracle than the one we witness this morning?

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