Homily for 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C                                                                            

 Hospitality. We define it today as the way we treat our guests cordially and make them feel at home. It is the way we receive our guests and perhaps the way we entertain them. We go to a hotel and we see hospitality suites and we may say that we were treated hospitably. We have hospitals, which take care of and treat and cure sick people. So hospitality is still a part of our way of life and something to be treasured in our culture.

 A preacher was speaking at an open-air crusade in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Billy Graham was to speak the following night. But he arrived a day early. He came unannounced and sat on the grass with the crowd. In front of him sat an elderly gentleman who seemed to be listening attentively to the preaching. When the call came for people to come forward and make a commitment to the Lord, the gentleman did not move. Dr Graham tapped the man on the shoulder and asked, “Would you like to accept Christ? I’ll be glad to walk down with you if you want to.” The old man looked him up and down, shook his head and said, “No, I think I’ll just wait till the big gun shows up tomorrow night.” In the thinking of this man and in the thinking of many people, winning souls for Christ is something that should be reserved for the “big guns.” Today’s gospel story, however, shows us that mission is for everyone, big guns and little shots alike, the clergy as well as the laity.

 Luke’s Gospel has two stories of Jesus sending out his followers to go and spread the Good News. In chapter 9 Jesus sends the Twelve apostles and in chapter 10 he sends seventy disciples. Matthew’s Gospel has only one: the sending of the Twelve. Scholars believe that Luke’s story of the sending out of the Seventy is his way of emphasizing the universal scope of the message of Christ. The mission of the Twelve, according to Matthew, was limited to “the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 10:6). The mission of the Seventy has no such limitation. According to Jewish tradition there are twelve tribes of Israel and seventy nations of the earth. The sending of the seventy disciples, therefore, symbolises the sending of the message of Christ to the whole world.

 Today, however, I will invite you to look at the story from a different perspective, from the perspective not of those receiving the message but of those bringing the message, from the perspective of the missionaries themselves. Christian tradition identifies the Twelve apostles with ordained ministry in the church. When at the Last Supper Jesus commissioned his followers to “do this in memory of me” he was addressing the Twelve, the clergy. If this is so, then the Seventy who are sent out on mission in today gospel must be understood as lay people. Today’s gospel, therefore, is the commissioning of lay ministry. This way we can read the two missions in the Gospel of Luke, the mission of the Twelve and the mission of the Seventy, as the mission of the clergy and the mission of the laity. By including the two accounts Luke, unlike Matthew, is saying, therefore, that mission is not only for the clergy, mission is not only for the “big guns,” mission is for us all, ordained and non-ordained followers of Christ alike.

 What is the reason for lay involvement in the spreading of the gospel? Because “The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few.” (Luke 10:2). This is as true today as it was in the days of Jesus. What role are the laity supposed to play in fulfilling the mission of Christ? The role of the laity is twofold: “Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest” (verse 2), i.e. prayer, and “Go on your way. See, I am sending you” (verse 3), i.e. active involvement. It is not a question of doing either the one or the other. Every Christian is called to participate in the spreading of the message of Christ through a commitment to prayer and a commitment to action. Pray as if everything depends on God, work as if everything depends on you. Jesus goes on to detail the disposition we should bring to the work of evangelisation: a spirit of meekness and vulnerability, a spirit of politeness and adaptability to the changing and challenging local situations in which we find ourselves in the course of mission work.

 Jesus places special emphasis on the work of curing the sick. This is not an optional task in the work of spreading the gospel. Someone may ask: Is health of body necessary for salvation? Is holiness of soul not enough? We tend to forget that holiness is another word for wholeness. It has to do with the whole person, body and soul. The Good News is good not only for the soul but for the body as well. The seventy disciples went on their way trying to implement what Jesus charged them to do. They were surprised to see that, acting in Jesus’ name, not only physical sicknesses but “even the demons” submit to them (verse 17). A similar happy surprise awaits all followers of Christ, ordained or non-ordained, who dare to embrace the work of spreading the Good News of our Lord Jesus Christ just as he directed us.

 In the Gospel (Luke 10) when Jesus sent out the seventy(-two) their first words were to be, “Peace to this house.” (Luke 10:5) Surely then every time we meet God we should have more peace. Every time we meet God in prayer we should have more peace afterwards, we should be uplifted. If we do not have more peace after praying, if we do not have more enthusiasm, this seems to suggest that we are not meeting God at a deep level in prayer and we need to review how we pray. When we pray we should be meeting God in some way and so be more at peace as a result. God has absolutely nothing to gain from you being unhappy or unwell but God has everything to gain from you being happy and well. There is a saying that the soul that lifts itself up lifts the world up. God wants you to be at peace and to be happy.

 When Jesus sent out the seventy(-two) he prepared them for the fact that not everyone would accept their message of peace. He told them if they were not welcomed to wipe the dust of the town off their feet when leaving (Luke 10:10-11). We have a choice, to accept or reject Jesus’ offer of peace, to accept or reject Jesus’ offer of life and love. It seems some have decided against Jesus when you hear them saying that going to Mass on Sunday is not what is important, that what is important is treating others with kindness and in a Christian manner. I feel so sad for any person who really believes that and ask myself could such a person have really met Jesus. If they had met Jesus surely Sunday Mass would not be a burden but a joy and blessing. Being a Christian means that we are followers of Christ, and not just do-gooders. There is a big difference between being a do-gooder and being a Christian. A Christian is a do-gooder who has a close friendship with Jesus, and the life and love of that close friendship with Jesus flow to others. Where do we meet Jesus above all? In the Mass where the bread becomes his body and the wine becomes his blood. Having such a close friendship with Jesus that draws you to Mass every Sunday will bring you peace. We are not just bodies; we are body and soul, and we will never be fully happy unless we have God in our life. St Augustine said “You have made us for yourself O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Those who say that Sunday Mass is not important, that what is important is doing good, are missing out on the soul of life. Jesus is not a burden to anyone, he is a blessing, and those who say that what matters is doing good, would do far more good if they had more of Jesus in their lives.

 Jesus wants you to be at peace. He sent out the seventy(-two) with a message of peace. He prepared them for the fact that not everyone would accept their message of peace. Unfortunately some people now also reject Jesus’ offer of life and love. If we reject Jesus’ offer of peace and love we certainly will not find peace anywhere in the world. Our only hope for peace is the peace of Jesus.  “Peace I leave you, my own peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give.” (John 14:27)

 As a child I used occasionally to lament my misfortune at having been born into a Catholic family. We were bound by so many rules and regulations - Sunday Mass, fasting before Communion, abstaining from meat on Fridays, not to mention the daily Rosary. But then there were those moments when it was good to be a Catholic, like on Holy Days of Obligation, when the non-Catholic kids had to go to school and we didn't.

 Of course these were only childhood and childish 'feelings' rather than thoughts. Nowadays I am not only pleased to belong to the Catholic Church, but also deeply grateful and immensely blessed.

 The Catholic Church is my Mother; she brought me to birth in Baptism, she feeds me with the Bread of Life in Holy Communion, she forgives my sins in the sacrament of Confession, she brought me into spiritual maturity in Confirmation, and anoints me when I am ill. Most of all she leads me to the altar of God where the words of the priest change my poor offering of bread and wine into the glorious offering of the flesh and blood of my Saviour. All this, and more, is expressed in the powerful image of today's reading from Isaiah. God gives us the Church, the New Jerusalem that we: may be suckled, filled, from her consoling breast.

 To the Church comes flowing a river of peace from the Lord, like a flooding stream, and then, like a mother she takes her children and: at her breast will her nurslings be carried and fondled in her lap. Like a son comforted by his mother will I comfort you. (And by Jerusalem you will be comforted.)

 This image is as humanly personal and intimate as it is confronting; a mother feeding her infant at the breast and instead of milk she is feeding it peace. Still, those of you in the know will readily agree, ‘Yes, that’s exactly how it is between us and the Church.’

 And yet there also an anonymous or, rather, transpersonal dimension to the saving transaction between us and the Church. This is somewhat reflected in the language of Luke (Jesus) in the Gospel.

 Undoubtedly the person of Jesus is paramount. He is our Saviour, the head of the Church, the one who satisfies our thirst. Nevertheless, he appoints and sends those merely described as ‘others’. He places them between himself and us. He calls them ‘labourers’ and refers to us simply as ‘the harvest.’ The language points away from us to the Kingdom which alone is absolute. Some may welcome the disciples, some may reject them, but all must know: the Kingdom of God is very near.

 In this sense the fate of the disciples does not really matter. They are indeed, essentially, only labourers. Their mission is bigger and more important than they are. They are servants of the Kingdom which stands before them, beckoning, and the Lord of the Kingdom will take care of them and reward them when the proper time comes.

 The practical expressions of this transpersonal aspect of the Christian journey are everywhere in the Catholic Church today. I marvel at the way people don’t even know the surnames of the priests and religious who have served them. ‘Oh, you know, Fr Bill, the short one with the grey hair. He’s probably dead by now.’ And this is as it should be because Fr Bill was not commissioned to bring himself to us, he was commissioned to bring us Christ - in word and sacrament.

 Catholics generally understand this very well, at least they used to. In recent years there has developed an unfortunate cult of the priest. Not only does Father have to bring us Christ, he has to be ‘nice’ as well. And when popularity is at stake it's easy for service to become self-service.

 Add to this the equally toxic cult of the parishioner which obliges Father to ‘keep his parishioners happy at all times’, and pretty soon we, priest and people, make ‘ourselves’ the content of the Christian life.

 We are the ‘containers’; not the ‘contents’. As the Gospel Acclamation today states: May the peace of Christ rule in your hearts and the fullness of his message live within you.

 The peace of Christ – not the approval of some clique or other; the fullness of his message – not the comforting group-think of the majority. We are wrong to make ‘us’ the journey because then we run the risk of making ourselves its goal. That would indeed be sad – to arrive at my destination and find only ‘me’.

 The great St Paul boasted solely of the Cross of Jesus: through whom the world is crucified to me and I am crucified to the world. Surely this is the perfection of the Christian life, a life which is wholly joined to that of the Master.

 In the time of Jesus, and even in the Old Testament, there is a slightly different understanding of hospitality. The meaning and concept of cordiality and comfort is still the same, but it is extended far beyond what we would feel comfortable doing today. We certainly don’t extend our hospitality to anyone who walks up to us and asks for it. Some of us find it hard to be hospitable to street people who beg for money or for strangers who seem to demand or expect it from us. In Biblical times the populations were smaller and everyone was related to everyone else within somewhat large areas. Leaving towns and traveling to another town left travelers at great risk of robbery or beatings. There were no motels to stay at, or hotels or hostels.  If you traveled you were entirely dependent on the kindness of strangers – which is why you attempted to know everyone who might be related to you or who might owe you a favor. When Jesus said he was sending his Apostles out as lambs among wolves, he was referring to the fact that they would be itinerant travelers and would literally be at risk of robbery and beatings. That is why he did not want them to take much with them.  “Carry no money, no bag, no sack, no sandals; and greet no-one along the way.”If they had nothing that could be stolen they would be better off.  When they reached a village or town, however, they needed to depend on hospitality. And people were expected to give it.

 Early Bible stories are based on the concept of hospitality.  If you remember the story of Sodom, it was really a story of how the town was inhospitable.  The angels of God disguised as men were not given hospitality, except by one person, who in order to be hospitable offered up his daughters to save the visitors from the inhospitable and savage townsmen.  God destroyed the cities for that crime of inhospitality.

 Jesus then tells his disciples how to act when they enter a village. They are to rely on the kindness of strangers and relatives. They are to preach and heal and for this they are to be taken care of – “the laborer deserves his payment.” If the townspeople do not take care of the disciples, they are to go to a very public place in the town like the town square, and shake the dust off their feet, which means having no more to do with the people there, and leave their inhospitality to God. Jesus then tells them to remember what God did to Sodom for their crime against their fellow men. Jesus is being very consistent here in his teachings because his concept of the kingdom of heaven on earth involves treating each other with love.

 So hospitality in Jesus’ sense involves treating everyone, even strangers, with respect and giving them back their due. He also expects the strangers or visitors to earn their keep as well. It is a reciprocal arrangement. This is the first theme of the readings today.

 The second theme involves the city Jerusalem.  To this day, the Jews see Jerusalem as a Holy City. When the Temple was there, it was literally the home of God on earth. I saw the play Fiddler on the Roof again the other day, and noted how at the end of the play when the characters have been kicked out of their town and forced to leave, being dispersed all over the world, the common cry when they said good-bye was “Next year in Jerusalem”. Jerusalem for them was a hope for the future, a promised land, a return to the presence of their God, a happy home. Similarly in our first reading today, we hear Isaiah presenting the longing for Jerusalem that was a part of a conquered people who had been taken away from their homeland. Jerusalem in this reading is seen as a big-breasted mother who is still nursing her child. And the Jews are seen as infants who suck on her breasts, are carried in her arms and are fondled and comforted by their mother.

 Jerusalem has become a symbol for Christians of the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is the constant and main theme of all of Jesus’ teachings. In the Gospel today he teaches his disciples that when they go into a town, they are to state their theme immediately that “the kingdom of God is at hand for you.” And the heavenly Jerusalem is the main symbol of what Jesus taught.

 When Jesus explains to the disciples what gifts he is giving them, “the power to tread upon serpents and scorpions and upon the full force of the enemy” he is talking about all those things that are in opposition to the kingdom. He isn’t meaning serpents and scorpions literally although they were in abundance when you were traveling in Judea, but he is metaphorically meaning the forces of evil. So Jesus has given the disciples the power to forgive sin, to heal both physically and spiritually and the power to cast out devils and be victorious over the works of the devil.

 What can these readings mean for us this week? Can we consider what it means to be hospitable in Jesus’ terms. How can we bring peace to others? How can we practice the love that Jesus says we ought to show to each other? Can we set our sights on the heavenly Jerusalem by beginning the kingdom of heaven on earth through our relationships with others? All of these questions are things which we can ponder this week as we try to live the the life of Jesus and follow his way in our own lives.  We seek this perfection within the Church and from the Church. We are both labourers and harvest.

 By Rt. Rev. Bishop Kasomo Daniel. PhD.D.Sc.

Bishop of the Society of St. Peter and Paul (SSPP).