A Scriptural Reflection by Fr. Jim Sullivan on the Mass Readings for Sunday, February 8, the Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time
Readings for Mass this Sunday:
Isaiah 58:7-10
Psalm 112:4-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
Matthew 3:13-16
The Gospel of Social Justice might be a good theme for today’s homily. So would a reflection on the Christian presence in the world being understood as a presence of light; light where formerly there had been darkness. Yet another possibility would be just a straightforward reflection on the virtue of charity. As I am intrigued by each of these possible themes, I am going to plunge in without a narrowed focus. I want to illuminate each theme as the readings themselves suggest.
The first reading resonates deeply with social justice. All of the prophets issue calls to the Jewish people (and, of course, to us) to engage in the work of social justice. Though we might interpret Isaiah 58 as recommending individual acts of charity, there is undeniably a more general call at work here. Isaiah 58 mentions entire classes of people—and this is probably as good a place as any to mention that social justice and charity, while allies, are in fact, different. Generally speaking, social justice is global (or societal); charity is personal; even one-on-one.
Psalm 112 does indeed recommend and extol acts of personal charity. Psalm 112 describes a man who is just, upright and reliable in his dealings with others; a man who gives to the poor. Lavishly (vs. 9). The word lavish is employed as well in Isaiah 58, with regard to seeing to the needs of the hungry (vs. 10). Lavish giving is strongly encouraged, in today’s readings.
What does lavish giving look like? It will vary from person to person, depending on circumstances and capacity. But the clear implication in both Isaiah 58 and Psalm 112 is that lavish giving is joyful giving; the dynamic seems to be one of the more we give, the more we realize that we have to give. And needless to say this sort of giving is not limited to money. It can be a matter simply of attending to our own vocational call (parents, giving to their children, as an example; a priest giving to his parish). It might also be a matter of finding a cause, a charity, a social justice movement or program in need of what we have to give, and which, in the giving, so rewards us that we are happy to discover that we can give still more. It is a matter of love being multiplied, not divided.
Isaiah 58 and Psalm 112 both employ the metaphor of light. This metaphor is actually describing something real—we associate light with the nature of God. Light from Light. In your Light, we see Light itself (Psalm 36). Made in the image and likeness of God, we Radiate (to use a term related to the concept of light) God’s love when we give lavishly, joyfully and from the heart. When we say, of our giving, not “I have to do this,” but “I GET to do this!”
Which brings us to the Gospel. Jesus employs the metaphor of light in describing how disciples are to be recognized in the world (vss. 14-16). And here, we might employ the word light with a different meaning; specifically, discipleship is not heavy. The Lord Himself, after all, describes his yoke as easy, his burden as light. Discipleship is not heavy, nor is it dark. It is, well, light, or maybe I should say lit up. Lit up and buoyant; buoyant with joy, with faith, with confidence (as in the example of the just man, from today’s psalm, who “fears no evil report,” vs. 7).
Discipleship is bound up with light, with joy and with charity and social justice, both of which encourage us to generous, even lavish, giving of ourselves, however that may play out in our circumstances.
On the subject of light—in this case, natural light, the light of the sun—we have been blessed with an abundance of same, here on the West Coast, these past several weeks. As I’ve expressed my trepidation about “too much of a good thing” with regard to all this brilliant winter sunshine in an earlier e-mail, I will let go of the fear, this time around, and simply revel in the pleasure of it.
Late winter is my favorite time of year. And it is my favorite time of year, I realize, because of where I live. I mean, look at the entire country—including Florida!—east of the Rockies, these past several weeks.
The Superbowl will be played in bright sunshine and temps near seventy. The acacias, the tulip trees, thr almonds and more are all blooming, as are the quince, the camellias, the birds of paradise, and I don’t know a lot of the other flowers that are providing such garden and curbside color right now. I’m just expressing gratitude for how beautiful California is in late winter; and at the same time am breathing a sigh of relief that there is, for the first time since New Year’s, rain in the forecast.
Gonna sign off here, as I am late with this one.
Take care and God bless.
Love,
Fr. Jim
I was born in Marysville, in the Sacramento Valley, to a large and faith-filled Catholic family. I was named for my priest uncle, and as a little boy wanted to be a priest. I outgrew that ambition and by the time I was headed for my freshman year at the University of California at Berkeley was planning on a career in law.
