“Grace vs. cynicism” (St. Luke’s: Friday, December 15th, 2017; Is. 48.17-19; Ps. 1; Mt. 11.16-19)

“You old wart hog”.  The 20^th-century Catholic novelist Flannery O’Connor spent her (brief) life in the Southern United States and is well known for her short stories; in the one entitled “Revelation”, O’Connor tells us of a certain Mrs. Turpin, who accompanies her husband to the doctor’s office.  The first scene of the story unfolds in the waiting room.  Upon arriving in the inadequate and cramped space, Mrs. Turpin sizes up each of the people who are sitting there – and then proceeds to ruthlessly judge them according to how they are sitting, on why they are not giving up their seats to her, on how they are dressed, etc.  At the same time that this judgmental inner dialogue is occurring, Mrs. Turpin maintains a steady stream of conversation with the other patients – at least, with those she considers to be worthy of being addressed by her.  Mrs. Turpin is an extremely self-satisfied, self-focused and smug individual.  Inwardly, she thanks God that he did not make her an African-American or “white-trash” but rather created her just the way she is – a slightly overweight wife of a pig farmer who has “just a bit of everything” and, most importantly, a “good disposition”.  At one point, Mrs. Turpin exclaims aloud: “Thank you Jesus for making everything the way it is!”  As soon as the words are out of her mouth, a book, hurled by a young woman sitting across from Mrs. Turpin, hits her just above her left eye.  Before Mrs. Turpin can respond to this sudden turn of events, the college student leaps onto her and wraps her hands around her throat in an attempt to choke Mrs. Turpin.  While the office staff struggle to subdue her attacker, Mrs. Turpin locks eyes with the young woman and realizes that this student “knows her in some intense and personal way”.  Mrs. Turpin asks the young woman: “What you got to say to me?”  The student responds: “Go back to hell where you came from you old wart hog!”

“Good” people.  We’ll check back in with Mrs. Turpin in a few minutes.  For now, let’s face the frustrating fact that the people that caused Jesus the most trouble during his ministry, the people that ended up condemning him and having him executed were not filthy pagans or unbelievers – rather, the people that Jesus criticized and those who had him put to death were pious, exemplary, members in good standing of the people of God.  In today’s terms, it was good church-going folk who rejected Jesus and handed him over to be killed…

Two prophets of mercy.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus continues to speak to the crowds about John the Baptist.  Both he and Jesus believed that “their generation” was the one who would witness the return of Yahweh to judge and save his people; they would be the ones who would actually experience what the Scriptures had foretold, what the folks in the synagogue were always talking about, what grandma and grandpa were always praying for.  St. Matthew presents John and Jesus as having two things in common: they were both no-nonsense prophets who pulled no punches as they denounced the cynical complacency of their countrymen; also, although they were hated by the great and the good, they were both very popular with – guess who – the tax collectors and the prostitutes.  Towards the end of St. Matthew’s Gospel:

“…Jesus said to [the chief priests and the elders of the people] …the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe…” (Mt. 21.31-32).

John and Jesus carried out their ministries among a nation divided – by the great and the good – into two groups: the “righteous” and the “wicked”.  John and Jesus announced judgment on spiritual complacency and offered mercy to those who were only too well aware of their spiritual poverty.  John and Jesus were men of hope – they believed that God was returning and they believed that the mercy of the God of justice had the power to transform people and give then new life.  That’s basically what it boils down to – God, through John and as Jesus, was offering new life to his people.  Those whose hearts were open would receive the gift of true life as defined by Jesus, while those who closed their hearts to the reality of God’s presence in Jesus would incur divine judgment.

To eat or not to eat.  John and Jesus were re-drawing the spiritual map – no longer did the dividing line run between the “righteous” and the “sinners”; no, the line now ran between those who embraced the love of God as contained in the good news of the kingdom and those who remained oblivious to their need and to the fact that what they needed was right under their nose.  As was pointed out in today’s Gospel, Jesus had the habit of throwing parties.  God’s love was embodied in Jesus’ open invitation to his “dress rehearsals” for the great kingdom-banquet at the end of time.  As we saw, in the world of John and Jesus, people were often judged by their table manners.  As John and Jesus went about accomplishing their respective missions, they were critiqued by those who were absorbed by self-satisfied smugness.  These members of the peanut gallery refused to take either of these young prophets seriously; on the one hand, there was John, the ascetic who was following the locust-and-honey diet – he was obviously demon-possessed; on the other hand, there was Jesus, the bon vivant who was always acting as if he was at a wedding reception – he was a hopeless overeater and a drunk, mixing with all the wrong kinds of people.

It ain’t easy being a saint.  It has often been this way throughout the history of God’s people – saints have often been persecuted, not only by unbelievers, but also by the Church.  Think of Joan of Arc, the 15^th-century teenager who believed God had called her to lead France’s armies in battle, who was burned at the stake as a heretic at the age of 19; think of John of the Cross, the 16^th-c. friar and mystic, who was imprisoned by his fellow Carmelites and beaten publicly every week until he escaped 9 months later; think of Padre Pio, the 20^th-century friar, stigmatist and mystic, who was accused of being a charlatan and submitted to numerous ecclesial investigations… to name just a few.  As Jesus said, “Prophets are not without honor except in their own country and in their own house” (cf. Mt. 13.57).

Mrs. Turpin’s moment of grace.  We left Mrs. Turpin gasping for breath on the floor of the waiting room at the doctor’s office.  The words the young college student had spoken to her remained imprinted on her thoughts throughout the remainder of that day.  Finally, she comes to accept those harsh words as being a “revelation”; Mrs. Turpin realizes that she needs to undergo a profound conversion of heart.  Mrs. Turpin’s story ends with her having a vision of all the saints entering heaven – the freaks and lunatics and “white-trash” lead the procession, while all those who are proper, dignified and sure of themselves bring up the rear, and as Mrs. Turpin looked on, “even their virtues were being burned away”.  “The first shall be last, and the last shall be first”.  May we never become cynical about the power of God’s love to transform lives – even the lives of those whom we would consider the lowest of “sinners”.  May God grant us the capacity to always hope for the conversion of all who cross our path.  We are all in need of God’s grace, including the grace to see just how badly we need God’s mercy. Amen.