Reflection by Frances Flatman on next weekend's Readings :-
All of today’s Readings reflect on our human condition in relation to God, they recognise the immense difference between created beings like us and the Creator; and invite us to take on board at least some of the significance of this status. Humanity is made by God and may, according to Genesis, reflect the divine image; but is not equal to God regardless of how we have come to think about this relationship or even if we dismiss it entirely. In Christian thinking our ultimate destiny is to become ‘like-God’ by adoption, by his wish and will; but this is not for the here and now but for eternity. The working towards this destiny, as we shall see, is in human thinking a long and tortuous process and success is not a foregone conclusion.
Ben Sirach or Ecclesiasticus (35:here15-22 and not the numbering of the Missal) comes from Egypt in the early 2nd Century BCE, and is Ben Sirach’s recalling of the work of his grandfather. Egypt at this period ruled Palestine and it appears that this family lived and worked there and were most likely influenced in their thinking by the Greek philosophy of the time. Their view of God as Jews was of the great divide between divinity and humanity and of the absolute impartiality of the divine towards his creation. Whereas in Egypt, the Ptolemaic dynasty were acclaimed as divine – son or daughter of Ra - and given enormous respect and power, the Hebrew God as we observe is ‘No respecter of personages to the detriment of the poor’. All regardless of earthly power and status are treated equally. The writers would of course have been well aware of the colossal divide in daily reality of the way in which rich and poor were treated, even I guess in daily Judaism, and longed for a more equitable and just world; one where God reigned supreme.
The writer of 2 Timothy (4:6-8.16-18) remember is in prison for his faith and awaiting probable execution, and so how he views himself and comes to term with this situation, one in which he remarks he has been largely abandoned by the Christian congregation for various reasons some good, some bad, is significant. What is clear is his utter conviction of his belief in Christ who ‘Will rescue me from all evil attempts on me, and bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom.’ Even his trial he can now appreciate as an opportunity to proclaim the Gospel. With this outlook therefore he can view his missionary life much as did the sole victor in the Games which would be held in Ephesus, his city and the seat of the Governor of Asia. Only when we understand a little of these vast imperial events and the power of a victory can we appreciate the comparison which is being made to Timothy in the Letter. Training for the runners of the stadia was literally gruelling, described in Greek as an ‘agony’. This was not for the fainthearted and was the work of a number of years leading up to the games, during which time the runner would totally devote his daily life to the achievement of absolute fitness. It affected diet, lifestyle, education and worship. Runners of the stadia knew there would only be one winner, no seconds or thirds, and this man would be crowned by the judges with a gold wreath, and gifts of unimaginable value heaped upon him – a lifetimes worth of food, horses and acclaim. Ambassadors from far and wide came to the Games, and diplomatic deals between city states were achieved at these events. All over the Greek world, from its heartland to up on the Black Sea cities, and over to Italy we still find inscriptions giving immortal fame to the winner of such Games. Our writer borrows this image for himself, for his own life’s work as he prepares for his death in the certainty that his work is a fitting tribute to God who will bestow upon him a reward for his work for the Gospel. So there we witness a writer in no doubt as to the utter difference between God and himself, but where he is certain of the eternal reward God has in store for him after his death.
Yet Jesus (Luke 18:9-14) lived in a much more down to earth world, and one where he believed we are here and now living the life of God’s Kingdom, rather than it being totally about something for us post mortem. In the Judaism of his time, in which we have watched Jesus consistently in conflict with the Pharisees, scribes and Sadducees of his day, he opted to support the poor and downtrodden and criticised the rich on innumerable occasions. Seemingly it wasn’t the elite as such he found himself in such conflict with, as we have seen that Jesus did consistently try to engage with them. It was however their wealth, their insistence of high status and their attitudes to the poor which he found so unacceptable. As Son of God, Jesus like the God of Ben Sirach, saw all humanity as equal. In our parable, what troubled Jesus was the unthinking and indiscriminate comparison the Pharisee, praying in the temple, presented to God; always comparing himself favourably against others. He fulfils the law, he is not grasping or unjust or adulterous, he fasts twice weekly and pays all his tithes. Above all he is not like the dreadful tax collector down near the door, a collaborator with the Roman occupiers, one who ruthlessly robs the poor; who would even enslave others to get the tax or force others into prostitution and who breaks the law by consistently being unclean. The Pharisee has in fact ticked all the boxes about true belonging, but Jesus says, “Does he have a heart open to knowing the huge divide between God and man? Does he appreciate the vast difficulties ordinary sinful human beings have in worshipping God as they should? Do Pharisees meet God in their prayers and wrestle with their daily, continual membership of a corrupt and fallen world?” We too surely are like this, we who have ruined a planet and consume so much more than we need to the detriment of our neighbours far away. All any of us can do is become like the tax collector in his sadness at his unreconciled life, and offer this to the Father he believes is endlessly merciful.
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