Tuesday, 12 November 2019

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2019


We are created for nobility, even if we have no inkling of it. In not so many words, you hear it in the first reading taken from the Book of Wisdom. Even though creation is like a grain of dust, God does not disdain His creation. In fact, we are precious that God overlooks our sins and He gives us the chance to learn from our mistakes. Little by little, God corrects, admonishes and reminds us so that we can grow from them.

The Gospel follows the same tread but shifts its attention to the nobility of spirit. Here, we have a man who is not just physically small in size but is supposedly stunted morally. He is a senior tax collector, someone despised for the unsavoury practices of his profession. But, through an encounter with Jesus, this man grows in stature and nobility.

The climbing onto the sycamore tree is rather symbolic. I am reminded of what I heard more than 20 years ago from a phone-in radio session in Dublin. Random strangers phoned into the station to air their dark and terrible deeds. It was like a competition to hear who had done the most terrible thing. In particular, a B&B hostess who, in order to take revenge on her horrible guests, would use her guests’ toothbrushes to clean the toilet bowl. Whilst it was striking that many phoned in to divulge their darkest secrets, yet, it was ironical for a Catholic country that people chose not to confess their sins to their priests. Instead, they sought absolution not from God but from the public.

This incident of the radio phone me reminded me how closely “confessional” the encounter between Jesus and Zacchaeus was. “If I had cheated, I will pay”. That is the restitution of the confession, is that not? Linked to this restitution is actually what may escape some of us.

Firstly, stories. The fact that the people who have presumably stopped going to Church, stopped receiving Holy Communion and going for the pre-requisite Confessions, needed to air their stories. They may not do it within the sacred space of the confessional but nevertheless, they needed to unload their burdens. Sin, as it were, weighs us down, even if our conscience tries to silence it. In the Gospel, Zaccheus, unbeknownst to him, was searching for the occasion to tell his story, to make a confession. He found the confessional up in the branches of the sycamore tree.

Secondly, disclosure is also redemptive. The history of our sin allows us to reclaim our space lost to sin. We want to be absolved and forgiven of our sins. Those who made their public confession through the phone-ins were not merely telling a story but at an existential level, were really hoping for some forms of redemption from the non-judging silent listeners of the radio station.

Thirdly, the redemption brought about by our stories opens up the space for nobility to surface because we are fundamentally created for greatness and integrity. Zacchaeus through the encounter with Christ becomes a man of integrity. Instinctively, man senses this calling, that is, the vocation to stand tall. Sin cuts down our stature as it were. The crowd recognises that too. In the Gospel, the conversion took place for Zacchaeus but most unfortunately, it did not take place for the crowd. “How could He dine with sinners”? Whilst Zacchaeus grew in stature, the crowd were stunted by their unforgiving morality.

Recently, I read a news report, interestingly, coming from ex-President Barack Obama. According to the BBC, Obama challenged the current “woke” culture. "Woke" as defined by the BBC is described as being alert to racial or social discrimination and injustice, along with being aware of what is going on in the community.

It seems that the crowd may be likened to our current “woke” culture for its moral “uprightness”. “Woke” culture is “moral” because it exposes the faults of those who ethics or principles are questionable. Both the crowd surrounding Zacchaeus and our “woke” culture act as purity filters to strain out the unworthy. But, interestingly, Obama also said that “People who really do good stuff have flaws”. That is really an apt description of Original Sin and no one, except St John the Baptist, is born “immaculately”. (Adam and Eve were created “immaculate” whilst both Jesus and Our Lady were conceived without Original Sin and naturally born immaculate. Whereas, John the Baptist was “immaculatised” in the womb at the meeting of the cousins, Mary and Elizabeth. At the Visitation, St John leapt with joy for so close was he to Salvation. Thus, he conceived with Original Sin was born without it).

In other words, we are all works in progress. Conversion and repentance is a life-long process on our pilgrimage to nobility. We can say that Zacchaeus can act as a poster-child of God’s infinite patience in dealing with us, sinners. He does not give up hope on us. Instead, He allows us to tell our story because our story, as in the story of Zacchaeus and everyone else, chronicles our struggle for nobility.

Nobody wants to be ignoble. Nobody wakes up in the morning to immediately hatch evil plans. Instead, closer to reality would be a desire to be better because we are created for goodness, beauty and truth. There are at least two parts of the human body which are considered vestigial—the appendix and the coccyx—the coccyx being a reminder that we were once “ape” (if you buy into that kind of evolutionary theory). The point is, one could assert that nobility may be considered as a vestigial past we have forgotten. Call it instinct but our struggle is fundamentally to remember or recall our greatness as sons and daughters of God—the original goodness that God has called us to be.  If there is one thing positive about the “woke” culture, it is a heightened sensitivity. Perhaps the advantage of a greater consciousness is not to be found in the focus on the faults of others but rather on an acute awareness of the nobility that God has created us for.