The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Zephaniah 2:3; 3:12-13 Psalm 146:6-7. 8-9, 9-10 1 Corinthians 1:26-31 Matthew 5:1-12a I Want to Be More Love in my Heart A Reflection by Ann Marie Szpakowska Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart. Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart. Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart, In my heart, in my heart, Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart. Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart. Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart, In my heart, in my heart. Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart. Lord, I want to be more holy in my heart. Lord, I want to be more holy in my heart, In my heart, in my heart, Lord, I want to be more holy in my heart. Lord, I want to be like Jesus in my heart. Lord, I want to be like Jesus in my heart, In my heart, in my heart, Lord, I want to be like Jesus in my heart. (Hear Yolanda Adams’ version) In the 1970s I had the opportunity to take a seminary course on the Gospel of Matthew. Our professor stressed two inter-related points. First, Matthew’s intended audience for the gospel were Jewish people who also believed Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah. Second, Matthew’s gospel often mirrors the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures – Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, which the gospel’s audience would be very familiar with. The Book of Exodus recalls Moses receiving the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai. In Matthew, chapter 5, Jesus gives us the Eight Beatitudes on a mountainside. These are the beatitudes in the gospel passage we hear in this week’s Scriptures. How do we compare these two keys teachings which have been used as a template for ethical/moral or righteous human behavior? In an episode of a science fiction program I once saw, scientists find a way to go back in time and recapture and record speech. They decide to bring back Jesus’ words on the Mount. Their hope is that somehow it would change the behavior of contemporary society if people heard Jesus himself preach the Sermon on the Mount. Their experiment fails. It took little time for people to begin to argue about what was really meant by Jesus’ words and to fail to practice its precepts. It seems the Jewish people depicted in Exodus had a similar problem. The tablets were barely down the mountain when the Israelites found reasons not to put them into practice. Going back to the basics, the dictionary says that “beatitudes” means “blessings” and “blessings” means “happy.” I need to admit that poverty, mourning, hunger and thirst, or persecution do not raise my happiness quotient one iota. And being merciful, clean of heart or a peacemaker requires fortitude among other virtues, which at times I know I do not possess. The lectionary ends our Gospel with verse 11: “Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” This verse changes the third person “they” and “theirs” which Jesus had been using (“Blessed are they who mourn,” etc.) to the second person “you.” Thus, Jesus directs this last beatitude personally to those hearing these words (In this case, US!). As LGBTQ+ people of faith we are well acquainted with persecution from both religious and secular sources. Indeed, as I pen this reflection, Roman Catholics and others await the burial of Pope Benedict II Emeritus, who often served as one of our persecutors. We have been inundated by the analysis of his career, his theological writing, and his shepherding a religious institution in crisis: too “holy” and therefore untouchable for some and too “human” and therefore frail for others. It was reported by a nurse that his final words were “Jesus, I love you” spoken in Italian. My initial instinct was to dismiss it because in the liminal moment of death one would revert to one’s mother’s tongue and his was German. Yet I ask myself who is this Jesus that Benedict loved and how might Benedict be surprised by Jesus when they see one another face to face? And who is this Jesus whom I love, whom we, as Christians, love? How well do I love this Jesus? How I treat others remains the litmus test, the only test that matters. |
