November 1, 2020: THIRTY-FIRST SUNDAY OF THE YEAR Malachi l: 14b-2:2b, 8-10
I Thessalonians 2:7b-9, 13
Matthew 23:1-12 We religious leaders might actually be embarrassed by today’s liturgical readings. If so, we’ve fallen into the trap set for us by our sacred authors. Back in 1966, the late John L. McKenzie published his controversial book Authority in the Church. In it, the highly respected Scripture scholar pointed out, among other things, that the authors of the Christian Scriptures say very little about our obligation to obey those who exercise authority over us. The vast majority of biblical passages dealing with the subject are almost always concerned with the abuse of such power. That’s how the authority problem surfaced in the early Christian community. Of course, as we hear in our Malachi passage, the same problem predated Christianity by at least four centuries. The prophet is forced to attack the priests of his day and age, not for offering ritual sacrifices incorrectly, but for failing to instruct people in their faith. “You have turned aside from the way, and have caused many to falter by your instruction . . . .” These religious authority figures are cursed for especially not teaching people about their covenant with Yahweh. They seem to have gotten so taken up with the external trappings of the faith that they’re neglecting the essentials of that faith. The same poison seems to have infected some leaders in the biblical Christian community. Though Matthew’s Jesus appears to be condemning Jewish leaders in this oft-quoted passage, scholars agree he’s simply employing a gentle way to attack Christian leaders. If the evangelist’s readers didn’t have these problems, he’d never have written this passage. They, like Malachi’s accursed priests, have forgotten what’s at the heart of their faith. For Christians, it’s the dying and rising of Jesus, and the obligation laid on his followers to constantly imitate that dual event. The historical Jesus’ disciples quickly discovered that the principal way of achieving that death was to become completely one with those around them, especially their fellow Christians. Yet for many in authority the temptation was simply too great to set themselves apart from the rest of the community. As we hear in today’s pericope, they accomplished this by demanding special places at gatherings, lording it over anyone not on their authority level, wearing distinctive clothes, and expecting to be greeted with honorific titles. (Sound familiar?) McKenzie constantly pointed out that the gospel Jesus provides a unique definition of authority. “The greatest among you must be your servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled; but those who humble themselves will be exalted.” The Christian community is forbidden to compare itself to any other institution. It only has one ideal to live up to: Jesus of Nazareth. This is certainly how Paul evangelized Thessalonica. He was unlike any other religious functionary they’d ever encountered. “We were gentle among you, as a nursing mother cares for her children. . . . We were determined to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very selves as well . . . .” Unlike most modern Christian ministers, the Apostle held down a full-time job, simply so he wouldn’t be a “burden” to anyone. Probably Paul didn’t have to say many words during the evangelization. His personal behavior played a major role in the gospel he proclaimed. I grew up often hearing our church compared to General Motors or some other large corporation; our leaders put on the same level as business executives. About 20 years ago, in an anniversary article commenting on the history of his archdiocese, the editor of its diocesan paper actually stated, “Had our archbishop and the mayor of our city exchanged places on any given day, no one would have noticed.” We should read today’s readings very carefully. |
