By
accident in the past few weeks I stumbled on an interview with Rev. T.D. Jakes,
one of the nations most prominent African-American megachurch pastors. The interview concerned the recent
canonization of St. Theresa of Calcutta, and the interviewer was questioning
Rev. Jakes about the revelation that Mother Theresa suffered interior darkness
and even temptations against faith. Rev. Jakes gave an excellent reply,
explaining how true faith can be compatible with experiencing doubt and
struggling against darkness. In fact,
his discussions reminded me of passages from Benedict XVI on the relationship
of faith and doubt.
Our
readings this week take up the theme of faith, both Israel’s faith under the
old covenant and the faith to which we are called in the new. Jesus urges us not to despair even if we feel
our faith is pitiful. God can work
wonders using small material.
1. Our First Reading is a famous passage from
Habbakuk: Hab
1:2-3; 2:2-4:
How
long, O LORD? I cry for help
but you do not listen!
I cry out to you, “Violence!”
but you do not intervene.
Why do you let me see ruin;
why must I look at misery?
Destruction and violence are before me;
there is strife, and clamorous discord.
Then the LORD answered me and said:
Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets,
so that one can read it readily.
For the vision still has its time,
presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint;
if it delays, wait for it,
it will surely come, it will not be late.
The rash one has no integrity;
but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.
but you do not listen!
I cry out to you, “Violence!”
but you do not intervene.
Why do you let me see ruin;
why must I look at misery?
Destruction and violence are before me;
there is strife, and clamorous discord.
Then the LORD answered me and said:
Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets,
so that one can read it readily.
For the vision still has its time,
presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint;
if it delays, wait for it,
it will surely come, it will not be late.
The rash one has no integrity;
but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.
Like Jonah, the Book of Habakkuk is
an anomaly among the Twelve Minor Prophets.
The other ten relate oracles the various prophets delivered on behalf of
the LORD to Israel and/or the nations.
In Jonah and Habakkuk, however, the focus is largely on the spiritual
struggle between the prophet and the LORD concerning the wisdom and righteousness
of God’s providence over world history.
Both Jonah and Habakkuk struggle with the justice of God’s ways. The Book of Jonah explores this question
largely through narrative, whereas Habakkuk engages it through dialogue between
the prophet and the LORD. Habakkuk
resolves doubts about God’s justice by urging God’s people to live by faith in
God’s promises, even if contemporary events seem contradictory or
inexplicable. Habakkuk 2:4, which
summarizes this message succinctly, is one of the most-quoted verses of the Old
Testament in the New (Rom 1:17; Gal 3:11; Heb 10:38-39) and has powerfully
influenced Christian piety, prayer, and theology.
As is the case with so many of the
Twelve, no biographical information is available for Habakkuk. The form of his name is unusual and its
meaning uncertain. It may be a passive form derived from the Hebrew root h-b-q, “to embrace,” i.e. “one who is
embraced.” The date of the book is likewise uncertain. At least Judah, if not Israel, still seems to
be in existence as the prophet writes, so it must be before the exile (>597
BC). Beyond that, the mention of the
“Chaldeans” (=Babylonians) as a rising threat in 1:6 (cf. Isa 39) is the best
piece of evidence for dating. The
prophet’s words indicate that people will be surprised to hear that Babylon
will be the agent of God’s judgment (1:5-6).
This would certainly not be the case in the early sixth century BC (c.
590s-580s) when Babylon was a dominant and feared world power, so Habakkuk
should probably be placed sometime in the late eighth (late 700s) or (more
likely) the seventh century (600s) BC,
when Assyria was still dominant in the Levant but Babylon was growing in
power (cf. Isa 39).
Habakkuk begins his book by
complaining to the LORD: why does God seem to do nothing about the violence and
injustice the prophet sees around him (1:2-4)?
God replies that He is preparing the Babylonians to come and destroy the
evildoers (1:5-11) and Habakkuk acknowledges this divine judgment (1:12). However, sending the Babylonians as executors
of justice raises another theological problem: how can God judge wicked persons
by others who are yet more wicked (1:13)?
The prophet goes on to describe the wickedness of wealthy man who
consumes others (1:14-16) and “slays the nations” (1:17), perhaps the King of
Assyria or Babylon.
The
LORD’s response to this second, more sharply-focused complaint from Habakkuk is
much longer and more detailed (Hab 2:2-20).
First, the LORD counsels the prophet and all the righteous to have
patience, even if it seems like the oracles of God are slow in fulfillment
(2:2-4). Secondly, the LORD pronounces
five woes (vv. 6-8; 9-11; 12-14; 15-17; 18-20) on the “arrogant man” whose
“greed is as wide as Sheol” and “gathers for himself all nations.” This may be simultaneously (1) a hyperbolic
description of any wealthy oppressor, and (2) a specific description of the
King of Babylon (or Assyria). The
message of these woes is that the wickedness of the wicked man will come back
on his head: those he oppresses will one day suddenly turn on him (2:7) and he
will experience the destruction to which he subjugated others (vv. 8, 10,
17).
The Book of Habakkuk ends with a psalm composed by the prophet, which appears in its present context to be a response to the woes against the evildoer just pronounced by the LORD (2:6-20). This psalm, which bears a strong resemblance to Ps. 68 and others, recounts a theophany of the LORD in which he marches north to Israel from the south (the region around Sinai), accompanied by a violent storm and earthquake (1:3-12). Having arrived, he vindicates his “anointed” (v. 13, probably the Davidic King) by slaying the sea serpent that embodies evil (vv. 13b-15). This entire poetic composition, colored with mythological imagery, may be a figurative description of the Exodus, the conquest of the land, or one or more other of God’s great saving acts of his people in Israel’s history. Essentially, it is a mytho-poetic description of God’s power over the forces of evil as the divine warrior, which is manifested in various ways throughout history.
In response to his vision of God
manifesting his power and justice, the prophet resolves to “wait quietly” for
the day of judgment on those “who invade us” (v. 16) and to rejoice in the LORD
even though there is, as yet, no sign of the consolations and blessing that God
has promised for his people (vv. 17-19).
The Book of Habakkuk is of perennial
theological and spiritual interest because it struggles with the ever-pertinent
question of theodicy, the justice of
God. If God is good and all-powerful,
why do the wicked seem to prosper? Of
course, many other biblical books, notably Job and the Psalms, also deal with
this issue. The answer offered by the
Book of Habakkuk is that God will, in the end, deliver justice to all. In the meantime, it is necessary for the
righteous to exercise trust or faith in the goodness, justice, and
promises of God. This practical advice
is summed up well in Hab 2:4b: “The righteous shall live by his faith”
(RSV). The word translated “faith” is ‘emunah, which is more precisely
rendered “faithfulness,” “integrity” or “fidelity.” It derives from the same Hebrew root meaning
“true” (‘-m-n) that gives us “Amen,”
i.e. “so be it!” or “it is true!” St.
Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 in Rom 1:17, but follows the Septuagint in rendering Heb. ‘emunah as Gk. pistis, “faith.” Although
the Gk. pistis (“faith”) is not the
exact equivalent of Heb. ‘emunah (“faithfulness”),
it certainly is the case that the Book of Habakkuk, taken as a whole, counsels
the follower of the LORD to exercise trust
or faith in the present while he
awaits the fulfillment of God’s promises in the future.
R.
(8) If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Come, let us sing joyfully to the LORD;
let us acclaim the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving;
let us joyfully sing psalms to him.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Come, let us bow down in worship;
let us kneel before the LORD who made us.
For he is our God,
and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Oh, that today you would hear his voice:
“Harden not your hearts as at Meribah,
as in the day of Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tempted me;
they tested me though they had seen my works.”
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Come, let us sing joyfully to the LORD;
let us acclaim the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving;
let us joyfully sing psalms to him.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Come, let us bow down in worship;
let us kneel before the LORD who made us.
For he is our God,
and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Oh, that today you would hear his voice:
“Harden not your hearts as at Meribah,
as in the day of Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tempted me;
they tested me though they had seen my works.”
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Psalm 95 is a very common responsorial, and also appears frequently in the Divine Office. The Psalm recalls the trials of faith that Israel underwent in the desert, while wandering forty years under Moses. Massah (“trial”) and Meribah (“contention”) are names of the location in Exod 17 where the people ran out of water, and lost their faith in God and his prophet Moses. The grumbled and complained, accusing God of intending evil for them. We can say that those two events became iconic examples of the loss of faith by God’s people, and they resulted in plagues in both instances. They become ensconced in Israel’s memory as counter-examples to the faith we should embrace and demonstrate toward God.
2. Our
Second Reading is :2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14
Beloved:
I remind you, to stir into flame
the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.
For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice
but rather of power and love and self-control.
So do not be ashamed of your testimony to our Lord,
nor of me, a prisoner for his sake;
but bear your share of hardship for the gospel
with the strength that comes from God.
Take as your norm the sound words that you heard from me,
in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.
Guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit
that dwells within us.
Unlike the Israelites in the desert,
we have the tremendous “help of the Holy Spirit” in order to maintain the
“faith and love” of Christ Jesus in our lives.
Faith is contrary to a “spirit of cowardice,” but leads us to an
attitude of “power, love, and self-control.”
This reminds us of St. Josemaria’s teaching that Christians should have
a kind of spiritual “superiority complex” when tackling the challenges of this
world. Confidence should characterize
the Christian; not self-confidence which the world urges, but what we might
call “Christ-confidence” or “Spirit-confidence.” Knowing that “it is no longer I who live but
Christ who lives in me,” we should have this great confidence that God will
provide a means for us to overcome the obstacles we face. No doubt this will mean we must share in the
“hardship for the Gospel,” but we can rely on the “strength that comes from
God” to persevere through it.
3. Our Gospel is Lk 17:5-10:
The
apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.”
The Lord replied,
“If you have faith the size of a mustard seed,
you would say to this mulberry tree,
‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.
The Lord replied,
“If you have faith the size of a mustard seed,
you would say to this mulberry tree,
‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.
I think many take this parable
wrongly. Hearing that faith the size of
a mustard seed would be sufficient to perform miracles, folks reason like this:
“I can’t work miracles; therefore, my faith must not even be the size of a
mustard seed! I must try real hard to muster
up some faith the size of a mustard seed, because my faith is microscopic!”
However, I don’t think our Lord was
trying to discourage us and tell us that our faith was insignificant. Rather, the purpose of our Lord’s words are consolation, not rebuke. The point he is making to the disciples is
this: You don’t need much faith to be
effective! Just give me a little bit of
faith and I can do great things for you!
Just as I took five loaves and two fish and fed 5,000, I can take a
mustard seed of your faith and transplant a tree into the ocean.”
Our Lord’s words are meant to be an
encouragement. You may only have a tiny
amount of faith, but go ahead and step out on that faith anyway. You do not need huge faith already in order
to begin serving the Lord. He will take
what you have and do great things with it.
“Who among you would say to your servant
who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field,
‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’?
Would he not rather say to him,
‘Prepare something for me to eat.
Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished’?
Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded?
So should it be with you.
When you have done all you have been commanded,
say, ‘We are unprofitable servants;
we have done what we were obliged to do.’”
It’s not
immediately apparent what the connection is between this saying of Jesus and
the previous teaching on faith. Maybe
it’s this: sometimes those who do great works of faith think they are doing God
a favor. Jesus says in a different
place, “Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, lord, did we not prophesy in
your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your
name?’” (Mt. 7:22) These are works of
faith. However, to these individuals,
Jesus responds, “Depart from me, for I never knew you, you evildoers.”
We don’t
do God favors by serving him. Paul says,
“If I have faith to remove mountians”—alluding to a version of our Lord’s
teaching in Luke 7—“but have not love, I am nothing.” Great works of faith do not add to God’s
glory. Nor does our holiness.
Jesus is
reminding us here that we can’t actually put God in our debt, and that even a
holy life is only “normal” for God to expect of us. After all, holiness is normal, it is sin and
evil that is abnormal. Sin may be
typical, but it is still abnormal. Mary
was the first normal human being since Adam and Eve fell.
If we
live a saintly life, in a sense it is nothing exceptional. All we’ve done is to be truly human, to
fulfill the destiny for which we were created in the first place.
It makes
me think of a (true) anecdote a friend of mine shared with me this week. A construction crew was rebuilding a
Carthusian monastery and came across the grave of a monk. Opening the casket, they found him
incorrupt. Wondering what to do, they
called the nearest Carthusian monastery, which was in another country. “What shall we do with the body?” they
asked. “Bury him again,” came the reply.
“But he’s incorrupt!” they protested. “All Carthusians are supposed to be holy,” came
the answer, “this is not exceptional.
Bury him again.”
This
Sunday’s Gospel is calling on us not to pat ourselves on the back every time we
turn away from temptation or do an act of mercy. It is only normal. Holiness should be ordinary.
1 comment:
1 Peter 1:6
Be Holy because I am Holy
Great comments on the universal call to holiness!
Thank you
Art
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