Mass readings for the 3rd Sunday in Lent:
Exodus 3.1-8a, 13-15 Psalm 103.1-4,6-8, 11 1 Corinthians 10.1-6, 10-12 Luke 1.1-9
It’s cryptic to us, this reference Jesus makes to “Galileans” who had their “blood mixed with their sacrifices.” We know from what scant histories exist for that part of the world at that time that Pontius Pilate had a conflict with Galileans who were seen to be upsetting the order that Rome wanted to impose on what we refer to as “the Holy Land.” But about this specific incident that is being referenced we know nothing aside from this scripture passage.
The Romans regarded the Galilee as a hotbed of seditious activity, but because of the political settlement that followed the death of Herod the Great, they had no jurisdiction there – so, they couldn’t send their troops in without a very serious pretext, likely only on the order of the emperor himself. The speculation is that because Galileans were very pious, and attended all the major festivals celebrated at Jerusalem, which was under direct Roman rule, that Pilate took the opportunity at a festival to ambush a group of Galileans that had been identified for elimination by Pilate’s network of spies; and this happened as they made their way to the Temple to make sacrifice. It may even have happened within the Temple precincts, which would have been an egregious violation of the Temple’s sanctity if Pilate had sent troops there.
But then we get this curious take on it from the people Jesus is speaking to – they believe that in some way the Galileans were particularly sinful because they died on their way to the Temple to make sacrifice, something close to the sentiment that they “deserved” it. It would be like judging someone to be a notorious sinner because they died on their way to Sunday Mass; or indeed, if they died while in the communion line. In it, God is making a statement of judgement for everyone to see, or so we might infer from these comments.
Now, Jesus in his reply, makes reference to something that clearly was simply an accident: a tower collapsing and killing those nearby.
He’s trying here to say that the sinfulness or the righteousness of those who died is not determined by the circumstances; but also pushing back against the subtle prejudice of his audience.
I’ve mentioned this before, how the people of Jerusalem, and the people of Judea, regarded themselves as the true Jewish people (the word “Jew” is derived from “Judean”). They thought they had the best claim to representing Israel even as Israel was effectively a defunct state. Galileans were a mongrel people who lived to the north. The Galileans had over generations, over the course of a history of conquest and occupation by foreign powers, intermarried with some of those conquering nations: Assyrians, Greeks, Persians. Indeed, the area was often referred to not simply as “the Galilee” but as “The Galilee of the Gentiles” – that is the land of non-Jewish or more accurately, non-Judean people who nonetheless were co-religionists. The blood of Galileans was no longer purely that of the ten tribes of Israel. And yet, Galileans were known for being particularly pious, many scrupulously so. They were more apt to be literate than their southern cousins because they took knowledge of the Torah quite seriously. When the scribes and Pharisees of Jerusalem are astonished by Jesus’ learning, we might put that down to the fact that he is the Messiah, but we also have to credit the local religious culture of Nazareth: this was the Bible belt of the ancient world! This is often the reason given for believing that Our Lady, Mary, was literate; why in Christian art she is often depicted holding a book. Knowing the Torah, the prophets, the books of wisdom, this was important to Galileans such that they even educated girls with the thought they could teach their own children God’s word. One might say they were trying to prove they belonged to Israel, but that they did so in the face of a condescending population in Jerusalem.
We as observant Catholics need ourselves to be wary of the judgments we might quietly hold of others, as Catholics, as Canadians, with regard to other groups within our nation, within our Church, within the international community of nations, within the global family of religious traditions. I’m aware of how divided we are in respect to all these, how contemptuous some are toward those seen to be on the other side of a given question in the realms of politics and religion. And so, we are tempted to regard the misfortunes that befall them, but also the persecutions they experience by others, sometimes even at the hands of government, as deserved when we’re in no position to make such a call. Do we bother to examine and appreciate, without necessarily agreeing with, the reasons for which they have opposed authority, staged protests, championed their cause? We may have more in common with them than we at first think.
How curious it is that the Judeans, and the denizens of Jerusalem in particular, as resentful as they were toward the Romans, would nonetheless look down upon those Galileans with disdain, and put down their murder by Roman troops as somehow the justice of God visited upon sinners. The cynical take on this, but one that could be argued on the basis of what we see in the events of our Lord’s passion, is that Jerusalemites were not a particularly virtuous people who nonetheless wanted to be thought of as righteous. Having the prestige of living in the Holy City, they thought that sufficient proof of God’s approval; and what they really wished to protect was not so much their eternal souls, but rather their privilege and comforts, and more importantly, their self-image as the one and only “Chosen People.” They were as interested then in law and order as the Romans. They would just prefer law and order without the Romans, and with those Galileans kept in their place.
It’s quite interesting to reflect on the history that will follow our Lord’s death and resurrection, how strangely we can follow the rise of the Church, her persecution and eventual triumph in the fourth century, and do so with a history of Judea in its final decline and fall in the same period; and how, curiously, the “Jewish” population that survives largely intact through two horrific rebellions against the Romans was that of the Galilee. These rebellions began in Judea, and to be fair, the Roman provoked the Jews through an arrogant disrespect for the Temple and the Jewish faith. However, when the legions invaded, the Galilean capital of Sepphoris and other major cities of the Galilee wisely surrendered immediately. Judea, in contrast, aggressively pursued the war, convinced that God would deliver them as they were ‘chosen’ to realize a messianic kingdom. It was thoroughly devastated, and as we know, the Temple was destroyed, never to be rebuilt, and Jerusalem was razed to the ground. The native Judean population was driven to near extinction; and its survival became dependent on those who lived abroad in the diaspora.
It begs the question as to who it is who are truly chosen; who are really God’s children? From a Christian perspective, we are led to ask, who can make rightful claim to be a brother and a sister of Christ by adoption in the Holy Spirit. Is it those who assume their righteousness, and the rightness of their beliefs based on something so narrow and ultimately insubstantial as an identity based on ethnicity, race, or a sense of ideological purity based on how well we are thought of by our peers who share our opinions; or is it a matter of actually knowing what God has commanded, by dint of study and prayer, and then doing it, no matter how difficult?
As St. Paul points out in his letter to the Corinthians, all our ancestors “were under the cloud; all passed through the sea, all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea; all ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink… nevertheless God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness.”
As Jesus tells us in the parable of the gardener, our assurance of being in Christ will be found in our ability to bear the spiritual fruit expected of us. And we best do that by way of growing in sanctity, bringing others to Christ, making around us as best we can a bit of the kingdom where there is true freedom, justice, charity and peace. Then we need never fear the gardener’s axe.
Amen.