SIXTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Cycle “C”: Luke 6,17, 20-26        

There was a clever parish priest. On the notice board of his church he put up a letter. It read: “Do not feel totally, personally, irrevocably responsible for everything that happens. That’s my job.” The letter was signed “God”.  “Blessed is the man who puts his trust in the Lord. He has no worries in the year of drought.” So speaks the prophet Jeremiah in this Sunday’s Old Testament reading. Contrary to Jeremiah’s advice, worrying is something most of us seem to be highly qualified in. Yet, by worrying and fretting, aren’t we doing God out of his job? By wringing our hands, we are assuming a job description that fits God and usurping his responsibilities.

Let us become like the little children whom Jesus encouraged to swarm all over him. Childlikeness, poverty, blessedness are all the same, because they belong to the kingdom of heaven. The “poor” of the beatitudes are not a social class. They include any person who becomes a disciple; for truly to become a follower of Jesus is to acknowledge our own weakness and poverty. They know their need of God.

Appearances are deceptive. Riches and possessions are held up to us by our consumer-oriented society as being all that we can desire, all that can fulfil our needs. But they can never deliver on our deepest hopes and longings. Much of our time on this earth is spent searching for a deeper meaning, a truer happiness and inner peace. And as we come to recognise that such a fulfilment cannot be had by worldly things, we allow God to open us to the blessings of his kingdom.

The blessings that Jesus speaks of indicate the kind of joy and peace that cannot be assailed by material circumstance of life, like poverty, hunger, sorrow, or bereavement.

Allow me to describe more fully the blessedness of poverty and childlikeness. Genuine poverty is my awareness that I cannot save myself, that I am basically defenceless, that neither money nor political power will spare me suffering and death, and that no matter what I achieve and acquire in this life, it will always be far less than God whom I really want. Real poverty is my awareness that I need God’s help and mercy more than I need anything else. Poverty of heart is getting rid of the rule of fear; fear being the great force that restrains me from acts of love. Being poor in spirit means letting go of the myth that the more I possess, the happier I’ll be. When you die, you carry in your clutched hand only what you gave away. (French proverb) Poverty means letting go of the self and all that keeps you locked up in yourself.

A few words, finally, about childlikeness.  For a childlike person, God has become their own dear “Abba”, a living and loving member of their family. They speak to him, beg, entreat and thank him, even complain to him; they just feel at home with him. All their relations with God are pervaded by a quiet and serene trust and confidence. Such a blessedness surrounds people who are open to God, trustful, lowly in their own eyes, dependent on God, uncomplicated, without duplicity, restful, unperturbed. They don’t boast of their achievements, since they owe everything to God, grateful to be loved and caressed by the eternal Father.

Upon you and your dear children I invoke such a blessedness.

 

HOLY CHILDHOOD SUNDAY

PRAYER: Chao Tzu-Chen, 1931.  This is a children’s hymn set to a Chinese tune. (Translated from the Chinese by Michael Counsell in 1997).

 

Jesus loves both great and small,

Children, though, especially;

Jesus called them one and all;

“Let the children come to me.”

 

Children in his circling arm

Gather, happy at his knee,

And he holds them free from harm;

“Let the children come to me.”

 

Jesus’ loving heart is kind,

Blessing our humility;

Grown-ups need a childlike mind;

“Let the children come to me.”

 

All of us need simple faith,

Trusting with simplicity,

Then he’ll welcome us at death;

“Let my children come to me.”