In terms of our vocation and mission, no one is ever qualified to be called. Jeremiah, the “weeping Prophet” acknowledged that much: “Look, I do not know how to speak: I am a child”. The unworthiness that one feels with regard to vocation could also be a kind a “proud forgetfulness” that it is God who qualifies the one called. The Lord reminded Jeremiah that even though the people to whom he has been sent to would fight against him, it would be against God that they would be fighting. If we are enlisted in God’s mission and because it is “opus Dei”, we should rest assured that God Himself will be right in the heart of the mission.
This confidence that God is resolutely on our side is profoundly existential and humbling because “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you came to birth, I consecrated you; I have appointed you a prophet to the nations”. (Jer 1: 5). Even as Jeremiah protested his inadequacy or his lack of experience, what is inescapable is that our consecration in the womb gives us our identity. Therefore, apart from “forgetfulness” which could border on “ingratitude”, the impression that we are poorly suited to carry out God’s bidding could come from our lack of trust in Him for the identity and the qualification that He will supply.
Let us see how Jesus’ identity as the Son of God was played out in Nazareth. He has returned to His home town where, in the synagogue, He read from the Prophet Isaiah a passage which promised the Messiah. They were impressed with Him until He, straight-faced, without equivocation, pointed to Himself as the fulfilment of their expectation. Naturally, His audience gasped at what they felt to be arrogance or temerity. He had set Himself as the benchmark which for them hitherto was thought to be a mythical standard or an unattainable ideal. They could not reconcile His claim with His background.
Who did He think He was? Jesus of Nazareth whose father was merely a carpenter. Who was this audacious Son of Mary? From our enlightened pedestal we might judge the audience as narrow-minded with regard to their view of Jesus’ origin and identity. However, the question is “Are we that enlightened ourselves?”. Do we not have the same problem judging people by their origin and background?
Our present social landscape is narrowly defined by “identity politics”. Apart from judging according to religion, class or status, now we assess people according to race, age, political affiliation, gender classification or sexual orientation. In fact, identity has become even more important for us because the social fabric that has held communities together has broken down. Like Jesus, we could have references to our family and extended family of grandpas, grandmas, uncles, aunties, cousins, to our community and neighbourhood and to our circle of friends.
All these moorings should be sufficient to secure our identity but unlike Jesus, the family is now basically the nuclear family—parents and children. In some cases, as a result of separation and divorce, a father and children or mother and child. What used to be a spectrum of social ballasts for self-definition is slowly disappearing. Many of us barely have contact with our extended families—kinship gatherings are reduced to weddings or funerals. We hardly know our neighbours. On the side of technology, our social standing is scaled down to a number. Our MySejahtera ID is simply a repeat of our mobile Nr. From a medical perspective, the imposition of a vaccine passport will only drive us further into a digitalised existence. Digitally, our self-definition has to run the gauntlet of faceless barrages that come from trolling, flaming and cancelling. The present “woketopia” also complicates our sense of belonging because anachronistically, it is eager to condemn our past as not pristine or pure enough to meet the currently accepted norm of behaviour or social justice. Without the safety net of shared narratives, rejection looms large in one social standing.
These cyber-experiences, in a way, reveal to us that our self-perception is culled from or is based on a rather horizontal plane of life. This means we draw our sense of the self from what others think of us or feel about us. Take the case of bullying, which is an issue in school, at work or in cyberspace. In no way does this observation condone bullying and neither is this a counsel to remain silent. When bullying becomes such an overwhelming ordeal that debilitates a person, “could it be” symptomatic of a lack of vertical dimension in one’s self-perception?
Today we heard that the people of Nazareth rejected Jesus. They were not a nameless bunch of people. They were most certainly friends, neighbours and perhaps, even relatives. We all recognise rejection and rejection. We offer a kind act to someone we scarcely know and when that kindness is turned down, like Taylor Swift, we may shake it off and say, “No skin off my nose”. Say you are benevolent to your wife or your husband, or a close friend—in short, to someone you care enough about. What happens when that generous gesture is rejected outright? There will be drama, trauma and possibly karma. In Nazareth, Jesus was not rejected by strangers but repudiated by the very people who constituted His background, His identity.
I remember a scene from a movie on St Bernadette. She was bullied by one senior nun for over a period of 11 years—this nun could not believe how God could have chosen Bernadette instead of her. This older nun felt that she herself, rather than this lowly peasant, was more worthy of the apparition of Our Lady. Did Bernadette go for counselling? Possibly unavailable then and so no access to it. However, that is not the point and not even the fact that Bernadette bore her suffering stoically. Rather, her identity did not come from this other nun nor did she need of validation or approval from this “bullying” nun. Even the hard truth that she would not be a beneficiary of the healing powers of the waters of Lourdes did not diminish her self-worth before God. How is that possible? We find the answer somewhere in the desert where the vertical dimension of Jesus’ identity was revealed. As He got out of the River Jordan, a voice was heard “You are my beloved Son in whom I am well-pleased”. The same vertical element can be seen in Bernadette’s life. Likewise, the vertical connexion that gives us our identity comes through the Sacrament of Baptism.
Our vocation or God’s calling, our mission or His sending, His Word or message, all these define who we are. It is the only identity we need more than anything in the world. Overshadowed by identity politics, we forget that personhood requires this vertical contact. Who I am is not determined solely by what other people think of me! We are defined by God because He has a relationship with each one of us even before we were formed in the womb. With our identity established in the Lord and secured by Him, rejection will not destroy us. Embracing our God-given identity we can resolutely make our journey to heaven the way Jesus, Jeramiah and Bernadette did. God has called us. He has sent us. He is our message. He will be our destiny.
