Sunday in the 12th Week of Ordinary Time (A)
Making Murukku

Readings: Jeremiah 20:10-13; Psalms 69:8-10, 14, 17, 33-35; Romans 5:12-15; Matthew 10:26-33
Picture: CC Ujwala Prabhu

Sisters and brothers, I visited some friends the other day and saw something I’d never seen before. The object looked like it was made of cast-iron. It had a long and very slender stem connected to a thick base, which was wrought in a sort of floral design. At first glance, from a distance, I thought it looked a little like one of those spikes that people use to pin their receipts on. But, according to my host, it was really a mould for making murukku. You know, that crispy snack from South India? A murukku mould: that was what it was.

My ignorance leads me to wonder what it would be like if, without any explanation, someone had earlier given me such a thing as a present. I’d have had no idea what it was for and might very well have used it as a receipt pin. Imagine the embarrassment if the one who gave it to me were to catch me doing that: using a murukku mould as a receipt pin. Worse, imagine what could happen if such an object were given to someone with violent tendencies. It might well be used to hurt other people – such as the domestic help for example. It could be used to bash others on the head or poke their eyes out. It sounds rather far-fetched, of course – a murukku mould as a deadly weapon. But still, isn’t it striking how embarrassing and even dangerous it can be when a precious gift is abused at the hands of the ignorant? Not only will there not be any delicious murukku to enjoy, but much pain and suffering can result instead.

Which brings us to our Mass readings for today. Quite clearly, what we find in them is a precious gift that God is offering us. More than once in today’s gospel, Jesus speaks those four words that we all need so much to hear: Do not be afraid… And don’t we know well what fear feels like? We live in what might be called a world of posts. You know: post September 11th, post South Asian Tsunami, post Asian Financial Crisis. And these are, of course, the more obvious ones. In addition, the mind-boggling advances of science and technology have led to a rapidly shrinking but highly complex world, where the pressing questions far outnumber the available answers. What can and ought we to do about global poverty, for example, or stem-cell research, or AIDS, or global-warming? How should we treat migrants? What will I do when my business fails or when my company winds up? What if I suspect that I might be gay? These are just some of the things that contribute to the great uncertainty that plagues us today, the same uncertainty that we mentioned in our opening prayer. Is it any wonder that so many of us often find ourselves tired and anxious and afraid? Is it any wonder that we yearn for security?

Yet it is also because we crave it so much that God’s gift can so easily be misunderstood and abused. The image that so quickly comes to mind as we hear Jesus’ words today is that of a parent comforting a frightened child at bedtime. There there, do not be afraid… And isn’t this all that our faith looks like to some, if not many, of us. Too often ours is purely a religion of comfort. We seek a secure haven from the struggles of life. And we make it our concern to construct such a safe space for ourselves, a comfortable air-conditioned place where we are snugly sheltered from the cruel uncertainties of the world outside. We expend much effort regulating the atmosphere within this comfort zone of ours. We surround it with high walls and strive to draw clear legal and moral boundaries of behaviour that we expect everyone to respect, or risk expulsion. We tell them how they should dress and what they can or cannot say. Everything is clearly spelled out in black and white. There are no shades of gray. The temperature is always as we like it. And if anyone doesn’t like it, well, they can jolly well leave. Those of us who do remain, however, can confidently tell ourselves: Do not be afraid! You’re forever safe if you but remain in this secure space.

Which is fine. Except that we might well wonder if this is truly the kind of security that God wishes us to enjoy. Or rather, by thus seeking to manufacture a suspiciously artificial comfort zone for ourselves, do we not forget the very thing that Paul is reminding us about in the second reading today? Do we not fail to acknowledge that in effectively dealing with sin and death the law is powerless, since sin predates the law? Do we not forget that, at least for us Christians, the certainties that are accessible to us on this side of eternity are rooted not so much in absolutely clear boundaries as in the belief that divine grace coming through… Jesus Christ, came to so many as an abundant free gift? Do we not forget that our enduring security is to be found not so much through our own obsessive efforts but by virtue of the fact that the Father has counted every hair on our heads, and that we are precious in God’s sight?

More importantly, when we seek to make our faith purely a religion of comfort, do we not fail to use God’s gift of security as God intends? We fail to recognize the wider context of Jesus’ reassuring words in the gospel today. Notice how the passage begins with this invitation: what I say to you in the dark, tell in the daylight; what you hear in whispers, proclaim from the housetops. And notice too how it ends with this exhortation: if anyone declares himself for me in the presence of men, I will declare myself for him in the presence of my Father.

Tell in the daylight… Proclaim from the housetops… Declare yourself for me… Clearly, like my friend’s murukku mould, God’s gift of security is intended for a very specific purpose. Consoled by Jesus’ words and secure in the realization that we are precious in the sight of God we are called to put out into the deep waters of this uncertain world (see Luke 5:4). We are sent to courageously engage the world’s problems, to compassionately share in its pain, in its hopes and dreams, its anxieties and fears (see Gaudium et spes n.1).

Do not be afraid… Even if these words of Jesus can indeed serve to comfort frightened children at bedtime, are they not primarily intended to console and to challenge those who may be tired and anxious, thus empowering them to continue to toil diligently in the Father's vineyard? Do not be afraid… When Jesus speaks these words to us, he is inviting us, not only to proclaim him in word and deed, but also to be signs of His loving presence among the nations. This is the murukku that we Christians are being asked to prepare with the mould of God’s security.

Doubtless, if we truly accept this challenge, if we generously use God’s gift of security as God intends it to be used, we will experience suffering and perhaps even persecution. Others will misunderstand us, oppose us, speak ill of us, as they did the prophet Jeremiah in the first reading. The waters of life will often seem muddy instead of clear, turbulent instead of calm. But the good news for us today is that, if only we imitate the prophet, if only we truly commit our cause to the Lord, God’s mysteriously consoling presence will continue to sustain us when we need it most.

Do not be afraid… What I say to you in the dark, tell in the daylight…

My sister and brothers, in this highly uncertain world of ours – filled with so many who are anxious and hungry – are we ready and willing to make murukku today?