Readings: Isaiah 45: 1, 4-6; Psalm 95 (96): 1, 3-5, 7-10; 1 Thessalonians 1: 1-5; Matthew 22: 15-21
Picture: By Lizgrin F on Unsplash
Picture: By Lizgrin F on Unsplash
What can we do about this haze? Realistically, there probably isn’t much we can do to stop it. But does this mean we should do nothing? Simply carry on as usual? Perhaps even add to the pollution, by going out into the haze, and puffing defiantly on a cigarette? Isn’t it true that not being able to stop something, doesn’t mean we can’t or shouldn’t take steps to reduce its bad effects on us? Steps like learning how to read the signs. To know, for example, the difference between the 24-hour PSI and the 1-hour PM2.5 readings. Where to check them, and what to do or refrain from doing, when they reach certain levels. Reading the signs may also help us realise an important truth. Namely, that we’re not completely helpless. Nor are we alone. And that there are useful resources on which we can rely. Our own, as well as those provided by others. Windows we can close, masks we can wear, purifiers we can use, public spaces we can share… All of which may help us respond more appropriately. Instead of just doing nothing… Reading the signs, realising the truth, relying on resources, so as to respond better. Don’t we find something similar in our scriptures today?
More than just a speech addressed by God to a foreign king, what we find in the first reading is a people who have been languishing for decades in the hazardous haze of exile, in faraway Babylon. Painfully aware that their exile is not just political, but also spiritual. For they have come to see that they are reaping the fruits of their own idolatry. But then, one day, their captors are conquered by the Persians. And the new king, Cyrus, decides to allow them to return and rebuild their home. Even providing them with what they need to do so. And the people learn to read this development as a sign. Allowing them to realise a consoling truth. That despite being a pagan, Cyrus has been called and anointed by God. He is the chosen instrument through whom God is protecting and providing for them. Which implies that even in the hazy darkness of exile, they are not alone. Their God is with them, forgiving them, caring for them. What they need to do is rely on the resources being made available to them, so as to respond appropriately. Not just by returning and rebuilding their home, but by repenting from their sin. By turning away from idolatry, so as to worship and praise the One True God. To give the Lord glory and power…
In the gospel too, we find a people living under the hazardous haze of foreign rule. A haze that’s the result not just of their own military weakness, but also of their spiritual fragility. Their idolatry and infidelity. And again, God refuses to forsake them. God sends a Messiah, a Christ, an Anointed One, on a mission of mercy. A mission to save them, by proclaiming the coming of God’s kingdom, and calling them to repent. But, as we heard in the gospel read three Sundays ago, although the tax collectors and prostitutes –– the public sinners –– were quick to heed God’s call, the religious leaders were not. So for the last three Sundays, Jesus has been telling them parables designed to soften and enlighten their hearts. Stories that are also signs pointing them to the path of repentance. But they fail to read the signs. They refuse to realise who Jesus is. They reject the Anointed Resource provided by God for sinners to rely on. Rather than responding positively to God’s call, in today’s reading, they seek to trap him with a dangerous question.
All of which should help us appreciate the significance of what Jesus says to them in reply: give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God. Rather than drawing a hard line strictly separating the realm of politics from that of religion, Jesus is implicitly highlighting a central truth of our faith. The same truth found at the end of the first reading. Where God tells the great Persian conqueror, I am the Lord, unrivalled; there is no other God besides me…. apart from me all is nothing. Which may lead us to recall the opening words of the Creed we will shortly stand to profess together: I believe in one God… Not two or three or none, but one God. Apart from whom, all is nothing. All, including me. Could it be that it’s only when I learn to accept and to live according to this great truth, that I can then see clearly enough to consider other questions? Not just whether or not to pay taxes to Caesar, but also what career to choose for myself… Whether to marry… How many children to have… How much tuition to provide them… How to spend my retirement… What to do with my wealth… How to face the inevitability of my own diminishment and death…
The ability to accept and to live out the practical implications of our belief in one God, who loves and cares for us. Isn’t this also what St Paul is describing in the second reading? Where he highlights what for him is the sure sign that the Thessalonians have been chosen by God. Namely, that the Good News has come to them not only as words, but as power and as the Holy Spirit and as utter conviction. The power to see through the confusing haze of everyday life, in order to recognise the face of Christ –– the Anointed One sent by the One True God –– and to follow him. What is Christian mission, if not to experience and live out of this same power, and to help others do the same?
Sisters and brothers, how is the Lord calling us to respond to the different kinds of haze we may encounter today?
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