The 8th Sunday in Ordinary time often serves as the springboard into Lent, or the end of the runway from which we take-off for our Lenten and Easter flight. For the next twelve weeks, we shall traverse the spiritual terrain of Lent and Easter before touching down again on the 10th Sunday of Ordinary time. Today’s scripture readings help us suck in enough air to lift us air-bound for the twelve-week (flight) journey. Like a captain performing the final checks on the aircraft before its flight, Luke—our teacher for this liturgical year—presents us with a string of sayings from the Lord that we ought to pack into our bag for the journey. These appear as rules of life and living or what the Jewish rabbis would call Charaz—meaning, “stringing beads” (for the coming penitential season).
First, Jesus instructs that we must be clear-sighted and reject the blindness of the world. I’m not that old—some would tell me—but never in my life have I heard as much insincerity, opposition to faith and moral goodness, espoused as a way of life as it’s currently being engineered, and embraced by quite a good number in our time. Hence, Jesus warns that if we follow the guidance of the blind leaders of our day, we’ll end up in the pit. A disciple must instead choose as teacher one who truly understands reality and the concrete details of our created existence. We must disconnect from those who brazenly espouse error and whose only motive is to stamp on the world the deliberate intent of Satan—division, falsehood, hopelessness and decay. We must dissociate from those purveyors of moral and spiritual degeneracy who populate the media, the academia, and today’s altars of deceit. How often does it happen that your daughter whom you sent to college to learn how to think and grow in knowledge comes home indoctrinated with horrifying ideas espoused from our ivory towers? We must choose between Jesus, the Teacher, and these punks.
Second, Jesus cautions against judging others. He must have drawn laughter from His audience when He spoke about a man with a plank in his eye trying to extract a speck of dust in another’s eye. Drawing from Greek drama, He employs the word hypokrités—meaning, an actor with mask displaying a different persona. In the Gospels, the term is derogatory, implying disguise and lack of sincerity—often used to refer to the Pharisees. Isn’t it revealing that society’s greatest critics of the day are actors and entertainers who thoroughly qualify as hypocrites? Jesus warns the disciple against positioning oneself to criticize, noting that we stand no chance of being judged ‘good’ before God. I’ve forgotten who said that “there’s so much bad in the best of us and so much good in the worst of us that it ill becomes any of us to find fault with the rest of us.” Psychology uses the expression “compulsive neurosis” to refer to a condition in which one has an inane urge to criticize his or her own deep-seated fault when it’s seen in others. Be careful about opening your mouth too wide to criticize: you might be revealing your own fault. The wise words of Ben Sirach in today’s first reading: “One’s speech disclose the bent of one’s mind,” should ring a bell when we mount our high horse and position ourselves to criticize and judge others. Jesus does not, however, imply that we cannot lovingly correct others. He means that we’re not to develop ‘blind spots’ to our own faults and weaknesses while mauling others down.
Finally, Jesus teaches that character is a greater witness than words. Do not be the kind of teacher of whom it can be said: “I cannot hear what you say for listening to what you are.” No amount of words will replace life lived. Witness of life has to be the Gospel of the day. We must match words with life—beginning with me. Aristotle said, “the bee sucks honey from the flowers without injuring them,” so our life must produce and inject only the nectar of goodness.
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo