Mass readings for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Exodus 19.1-6 Psalm 100.1-5 Romans 5.6-11 Matthew 9.36-10.8
It’s no surprise that Jesus quickly became a target of the powerful – the gospel tells us that he could see that the people were “harassed and helpless …like sheep without a shepherd,” and it was to this he responded and by his actions threatened those who had failed to shepherd the people. There was no shortage of priests in the Jerusalem temple, of rabbis in the synagogues; no shortage of princes to rule: Herod the Great had a quite a few children, and he didn’t kill them all.
There was the Roman Empire, its bureaucracy and army – what do you mean, Jesus, no “shepherds?” Israel was lousy with shepherds, or at least those who posed as such, as would-be kings in the case of Herod’s princelings who spent their careers as rulers, not in being good governors, but in accumulating power.
As to the Romans, they were keepers of the peace and guardians of the frontier, and so guarantors of the people’s safety – if you’re familiar with a famous Monty Python sketch, “what did the Romans ever do for us?” it’s only fair to point out that they built roads and aqueducts and all manner of public infrastructure; but that was at a price. I’ve spoken of Rome’s gradual colonization both of the land of Israel but also the hearts and minds of the people. Rome, as with all empires, only had so much tolerance for those who held themselves culturally and religiously apart. Eventually one had to join them, be absorbed by them culturally and politically or die.
As to religious leadership, the gospels are filled with Jesus’ criticisms. They heaped burdens on the people, and gave them no hope, no sense that God was with them, or for them. Rather they justified their positions based on their assertion of exceptional virtue, of being the truly righteous, but also because of their role as intermediaries between the people and the corrupt princes and the terrifying Romans. Now, we know from some of Jesus’ encounters, not all were terrible, but the leadership certainly were – after all, it was the religious leadership who put him on trial in the dead of the night and petitioned Pontius Pilate to have him crucified.
So, it is no surprise to find a consistent subtext of criticism of the leadership of Israel, both spiritual and political, in Jesus’ teaching and preaching.
That critique of the powerful is a constant within the Judeo-Christian tradition. It is present in the Hebrew scriptures; it is there in the New Testament and in the Apostolic tradition – “put not your trust in princes…” to cite one famous line from the Psalms (146.3).
However, this isn’t a condemnation of the idea of government any more than the critique of religion in the scriptures, and Jesus’ criticism of the Temple leadership of the day was a condemnation of religion.
Indeed, if you want to find some pithy way to express what Jesus had to say to the religious and political leaders of that time, I think we would say that Jesus’ message was “Do your job.”
And that is the message for our leadership today as it has been throughout the history of the Church as it inherited the mantle of the Old Testament prophets: do your job.
The problem with so much of our leadership is they don’t know what their job is. And so, they are often hard at work in matters well outside their competence, but more importantly, outside their proper realm of operation. And then we have those narcissists, sociopaths, and criminals who claw their way into power, and while I’d say they were few in number they tend to have an outsized detrimental effect on us – they undermine our trust in government and our confidence in our ability to manage ourselves through our institutions and according to our traditions. Where there should be resistance to them, and we see this today, there is sickening acquiescence.
People just trying to get through life, who must struggle to make a living, raise their children, care for their elders, really need to be able to trust in those who govern to do their job as we all try to get on with the business of living.
In the time of Christendom, there was a process of working this out in terms of what was the business of governance, what the church calls the “temporal” realm, and what belonged to the religious, or the “spiritual” realm. As you might know, the bishops of the Church of England have seats in the House of Lords, and they’re referred to as “lords spiritual” and their titled and noble counterparts are called the “lords temporal.”
The temporal power, what we would today identify as the “secular” power of government, is understood in Catholic teaching to be concerned with the common good of all the people within its jurisdiction (CCC1910); but that common good isn’t something to be achieved by victimizing some people to benefit others and so “averaging out” a net benefit – our catechism teaches that public authorities are bound to respect the fundamental and inalienable rights of the human person (CCC1907) even as they pursue the social well-being and betterment of the whole of society; and the common good requires peace, that is, the stability and security of a just order (CCC1909), not the peace of a totalitarian police state.
When Jesus surveyed the people who had gathered to hear him, he knew too well how little of that was being tended to by their rulers. I’ve mentioned before how Herod Antipas got himself into a war with a neighbouring state because he wanted to divorce his wife and marry his brother’s wife. His then wife was the daughter of the king of that neighbouring land. The war went very badly and he had to be rescued by the Romans at great cost to the people. None of that was in the service of the people.
I mentioned that the children of Herod were all pursuing their father’s throne as ruler of all Israel, hoping to be named so by the Roman emperor. And so, they were often away in Rome, and spending the taxes not for the betterment of those they ruled, but spreading money around the imperial court, hosting parties, sending gifts to the influential; not paying much attention to the suffering of the people over whom they ruled.
As to the religious leadership; they played politics to the neglect of their duty of spiritual care.
In sum, they were all pursuing power.
So, what does Jesus propose to do about this?
Well, we know from the gospels that he refused to be made king – he would not present himself as a political option. And yet, we see him do something that looks political: the commissioning of the twelve apostles to go out and gather Israel – the “lost sheep.”
Don’t go to the Gentiles, he tells them, at least not yet. The liberation of humanity will start where God said it would start, in Israel: salvation comes from the Jews. And what is so clear from Jesus’ teaching, it will not be a question of power; and yet, he and his apostles will manifest an authority that will give those who receive the good news hope, and indeed, liberation.
We’re all trapped by power in this world, and Christ is the one who frees us. Power feeds on emotion, it seeks to excite us, and so seduce us; it looks to frighten us, and then offer us an illusion of protection; it looks to anger and divide us, and then provide the policing to keep us from each other’s throats. Today, we see power at work, we see the powerful on the move; and there is an epidemic of anxiety and depression among the people who aren’t given hope but rather the expectation of diminished life: less food, less heat, less freedom of movement, less freedom of expression; all for our own good while the powerful, like the children of Herod continue in their lives of luxury, and make no sacrifices. And we see increasing interference in family life, in communities, in our schools and other institutions, compelling obedience first by an invitation to a party, and when politely refused, by threats, the hallmark of the powerful who lack all true moral authority.
As in all such times, we as the Church, the new Israel, we must be gathered in; a sort of harvest. Gather, and begin the business of remaking what has been destroyed, putting back what has been torn down. It starts with a renewed commitment to prayer and worship, to study and the proper teaching of our children. We all must school ourselves and others in the virtues of Christ, and only then can we cure the sick, cleanse the lepers, and cast out the demons among us.
Amen.