Get the heart – the fundamental attitude – right, Jesus seems to be saying in the Gospel, and all else will follow. The opening commands not to judge and not to condemn are already bound up with this. They raise the issue of just how difficult it is for people to have the kind of understanding that would really allow them to make judgments of others. The illustrations of one blind person leading another and of attempting to remove the speck in a neighbour’s eye when one has a log in one’s own are, again, as is so often the case with Jesus’ image and illustrations, exaggerated and humorous. It is so hard to know what is in one’s own heart – to recognise the ‘plank’ that may be there, inhibiting right vision and right judgment. Yet, even with such impediment, we are still so confident that we can see and set about rooting out the failings of others. If God, who really does see the heart, acts with such generosity, understanding and compassion, then that – not judgment and condemnation – should surely be the model for human interaction.
Through baptism we have been fashioned after the image of the second Adam, Christ the risen Lord. Being like Christ, we become godlike, empowered with his saving power, transformed with him into new beings. It is now in our power, which is really the power of the resurrection, to be merciful as God is merciful. In the risen Lord we experience a mystical transformation. From now on, all of our actions can flow from this new reality. Transformed by the power of the resurrection, we are capable of unprecedented good works. We can live without retaliation; we can render good for evil. We can be prodigal in our generosity toward others; we can relinquish any rights of proprietorship that we might enjoy. We can live with others without unfairly judging them. We can be like God, boundless in our forgiveness.
Followers of Jesus do not find their joy in money, power, or other material goods; but rather they find it in the gifts they receive every day from God: life, creation, brothers and sisters, and so on. We cannot be authentic followers of Christ if we adore riches to the neglect of the poor. In fact, true disciples of Jesus are content to share even the goods they possess, because they live according to the logic of God. The Beatitudes, may sound strange, almost incomprehensible to those who are not disciples. But as challenging as they are, they ultimately define the identity of the disciple of Jesus. For Christians, they are non-negotiable. What the Beatitudes do remind us is that disciples allow themselves to be challenged, aware that it is not God who must enter into our mindset, but we into his. Disciples, in the end, are those who let themselves be led by Jesus, who open their heart to Jesus, who listen to him and follow his path. Such a path involves openness to the joys of the present, wherever we may find them. It also involves a readiness and willingness to become Christ’s blessing to others.
Today we consider the call to continue the mission of Jesus by engaging in some form of ministry. Isaiah is called in order to be sent; the fishermen are called in order to gather others to Jesus. So it is with us. We are called to be sent out to the world and this call of God comes to us in the ordinariness of life. It will usually come to us as we wash our nets or our dishes, as we teach or raise children, as we prepare a brief for trial or examine a patient; as we repair cars or work at the computer. We are called to proclaim the message of the resurrection by any and every means possible. Some, like Isaiah and the disciples of Jesus, will witness in open and dramatic ways. They will teach and preach; they will nurse the sick and care for the elderly. Others will witness in less conspicuous ways. They will insist on fair practices in their own workplaces; they will weed out expressions of prejudice and violence so that a new and just world can be fashioned for themselves and for their children. Called in the ordinariness of their lives, they will witness to the death and resurrection in that very ordinariness, thus transforming everything into extraordinariness.
Traditionally this is the fortieth day of Christmas. Though the Christmas season closed with the Epiphany, the Presentation brings us back to some of the Christmas themes. The temple is not merely a building where believers gather to worship God. It is sacred because it is the dwelling place of God on earth. Therefore, the coming of God to the temple was always a time of great anticipation and excitement. It promised blessing and rejoicing. It took the eyes of the old man and the faith of an old woman to recognise that the Lord had indeed come into the temple. Ritually, it was the child who was redeemed. In fact, it is the world that will be redeemed by this child. He is the light that shines in the darkness of the world; he will enlighten all people, Jew and Gentile alike. This feast shares the theme of universality so prominent on the feast of the Epiphany. The king of glory opens the portals for the entire universe to enter.
Australia, ‘Down Under’, is a place to which people have been attracted by a vision of a different future, a future where human beings could relate to each other differently to the old order in their society of origin. De Quiros, the Portuguese explorer of the 16th Century, set out on a quest for ‘Terra Austrialia del Espiritu Santo’, South Land of the Holy Spirit. We could pause for a moment and thank God. For our land abounding in nature’s gifts of beauty rich and rare. For the divine Spirit of Pentecost attracting us to follow Jesus in this Great South Land of the Holy Spirit.
One of the major themes gleaned from the readings for today is that of the call to newness. God summons us to something new, gives us a new name, provides us with new experiences, launches us into new ministries, and calls us to sing a new song of praise. Even Jesus experienced a call to newness. Through Mary, God called him out into ministry, a ministry that would bring the fruits of the eschatological age of fulfilment to the whole world. We may be inclined to think of Pentecost as the season of the Spirit, but in reality the newness of God always comes to us through the Spirit regardless of the season of the year. In the world of the new age, the real glory of Jesus will be manifested in the variety of the gifts of the Spirit given to the church.
The gospel reading from Luke moves us from anticipation of the coming of the messiah to fulfillment of God’s promise. This theme of fulfillment is at the heart of the Christmas message. In the baptism narrative we see that Jesus has come into our midst, not only as a helpless infant, but as our anointed messiah. There is a dimension to this same gospel reading that opens us to a future yet to be fully realized in our lives. The one upon whom the Spirit descends has come to baptize us in that same Spirit. The reading from Titus is similar to the gospel. Both herald the appearance of Jesus and promise a future fulfilment for us. Renewed by the Spirit, we will be justified and become heirs in hope of eternal life. The readings clearly announce that: the Lord is coming; the Lord has come; the Lord will continue to come to and through us into the whole world. Under all of this rings the melody of God’s creative power as seen in the Psalm response. God promises to create something new in the wilderness of chaos. There the glory of the Lord will be revealed.
The incarnation takes place in human history, thus affirming the fundamental goodness of human life and concerns, and sanctifying them even further. The child comes from simple people, from a place that is relatively insignificant, thus underscoring God’s preference for what is ordinary. The body that was offered for our salvation, the body that consecrated us through having been offered up, was the body that grew in the womb of Mary. The extraordinary salvific deed of God was accomplished through his coming into the world as one of us. The obedience that Christ played out through his body fulfilled for us the promises made by God. We stand on the threshold of fulfilment, the fulfilment of an event that has already taken place. We ritually re-enact it so that we never take it for granted, so that we never forget that it is in and through human history that the marvellous deeds of God are accomplished.