October 4, 2021, Memorial of St. Francis of Assisi
Monday, 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jon 1:1-2:1-2,11
Jon 2:3-5,8
Lk 10:25-37
Today we begin reading the prophet Jonah, which will continue for the next two days, such that we will cover the little book in its entirety. It is a didactic writing, full of irony towards the prophet and full of universalistic ideas, which mark an apex in the Old Testament writings. The Gospel, on the other hand, recounts the beautiful parable of the Good Samaritan.
The two texts, despite having been written in such different periods, have some common traits: they criticize the narrow theological vision of the ruling religious class, they clearly affirm the traits of true religion and they testify to the universality of salvation.
The Lord Jesus sent his apostles to every person, people and place on earth. In the apostles, the Church received a universal mission - one which knows no boundaries - which involves the communication of salvation in its integrity according to that fullness of life which Christ came to bring (cf. Jn 10:10). The Church was “sent by Christ to reveal and communicate the love of God to all people and nations.” This mission is one and undivided, having one origin and one final purpose; but within it, there are different tasks and kinds of activity. First, there is the missionary activity which we call mission ad gentes, in reference to the opening words of the Council's decree on this subject. This is one of the Church's fundamental activities: it is essential and never-ending. The Church, in fact, “cannot withdraw from her permanent mission of bringing the Gospel to the multitudes the millions and millions of men and women - who as yet do not know Christ the Redeemer of humanity. In a specific way this is the missionary work which Jesus entrusted and still entrusts each day to his Church” (John Paul II, Redemptoris Missio n. 31, December 7, 1990).
The biblical texts of Jonah and the Evangelist Luke, pervaded by the universality of divine mercy, are both full of movement and mission, escapes, journeys, returns, and of contrasts between those who do God's will and those who prefer their own.
This is the word of the Lord that came to Jonah, son of Amittai:
“Set out the great city of Nineveh, and preach against it; their wickedness has come up before me.” But Jonah made ready to flee to Tarshish, away from the Lord. He went down to Joppa, found a ship going to Tarshish, paid the fare, and went aboard to journey with them to Tarshish, away from the Lord. (Jon 1:1-3).
Jonah opposes God’s saving plan: he knows well that the Lord will look favorably on the signs of humility of the Ninevites, who also do not belong to the chosen people and are sinners. God will end up forgiving them at the first sign of their repentance. Jonah does not agree at all with this mercy, which he considers weakness. He then tries to escape to Tarshish, to the ends of the known world, deluding himself that he could thus flee from the Lord’s will. One event follows another in rapid succession: the unleashing of the storm, the sailors’ fear, the drawing of lots to know who was responsible for their misfortune, Jonah’s confession. The sailors, compared to Jonah, appear deeply religious and determined to follow not their will, but that of the Lord:
Still the men rowed hard to regain the land, but they could not, for the sea grew ever more turbulent. Then they cried to the Lord: “We beseech you, O Lord, let us not perish for taking this man’s life; do not charge us with shedding innocent blood, for you, Lord, have done as you saw fit.” Then they took Jonah and threw him into the sea, and the sea’s raging abated. Struck with great fear of the Lord, the men offered sacrifice and made vows to him.
But the Lord sent a large fish, that swallowed Jonah; and Jonah remained in the belly of the fish three days and three nights. From the belly of the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord, his God. Then the Lord commanded the fish to spew Jonah upon the shore. (Jon 1:13-2:1-2,11).
Neither the sea nor the big fish can bear the narrow-mindedness of the disobedient prophet: at God’s command, after three days, they spit him up on the beach. We know well that the Lord Jesus is not afraid to appropriate this fictional episode to make it a sign of his descent into hell and of his resurrection (cf. Mt 12:39-40).
The sacred author, through recounting Jonah’s survival and preparatory actions, all dense with lessons to be learned, intertwines a stupendous poetic canticle of thanksgiving into the story.
The responsorial psalm of today's celebration of the Word offers us some verses from this canticle of the prophet who, in anguish and repentance, invokes God from the depths of the marine abyss and is heard by the Lord:
Out of my distress I called to the Lord, and he answered me; from midst of the nether world I cried for help, and you heard my voice. For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the sea, and the flood enveloped me; all your breakers and your billows passed over me. Then I said, “I am banished from your sight! Yet would I again look upon your holy temple.”
When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; my prayer reached you in your holy temple.
Also in the Gospel there are scenes that express a lot of movement, symbolizing this earthly life’s journey: a man who descends from Jerusalem to Jericho; the brigands who attack him and run away, leaving him half dead; the priest and the Levite who are also on a journey and pass him by; a Samaritan, who was travelling down that same road, helps the wounded man, takes him to an inn and leaves again, promising to return. In this journey - we have already seen it in Jonah - there are episodes and encounters that can make us understand the true meaning of life and of our bond with God and our brothers.
There are three moments in the Gospel passage where there also appear open criticism of the religious leaders of the people: at the beginning there is a doctor of the law who, “to put Jesus to the test”, asks him what he must do to have eternal life and then, “wanting to justify himself”, he asks him: “And who is my neighbor?” In the parable that follows, told by Jesus, we find a priest and a Levite who, probably in order not to be contaminated with a poor wounded man’s blood, fail precisely in their duty to help him, thus neglecting the true nucleus of the Law in order to comply with rules pertaining to their less important and transient purity. At the center of the story is the figure of the Samaritan, also traveling on his business who, having compassion, helps the unfortunate man who fell into the hands of the brigands, washes his wounds, loads him on his own mount and leads him to an inn. The Samaritan pays the hotelier, entrusting the wounded man to his care and promising him more money on his return to compensate him for his attentions to the wounded man. He is a Samaritan, therefore a foreigner, a man who the Jews considered a heretic.
The prickly question of the doctor of the Law: “And who is my neighbor?” indicates that in his mind and heart there was a clear distinction between neighbors and those considered strangers, co-religionists or not, as was the common religious mentality of the time. Jesus replies by reversing the question: it is you who must make yourself a neighbor to anyone in need, regardless of who is close to you by race, religion or culture. If you draw near to him, he will undoubtedly become “a neighbor” for you.
After this clear and precise reversal, Jesus sends the doctor of the Law, as God had done with Jonah, on a mission: “Go and do the same”.
Many Fathers of the Church have seen Christ in the figure of the Samaritan, healing the wounds of humanity, caused by sin, and becoming a neighbor of our misery and unhappiness. The inn where He carries wounded humanity is the Church, which continues his work of salvation through preaching and the sacraments. Every Christian is called to take part in the salvific action of the Church, collaborating in the salvation of those who, near or far, need spiritual and material help, brotherly aid, love and closeness.
Today we commemorate Saint Francis of Assisi, the universal brother, the saint perhaps most similar to Christ, who with his witness of sweetness, love and poverty brought about a profound transformation in society, the Church of his time, and the universal Church.
The Franciscan Sources offer us many phrases from Francis that can comment on the texts we have meditated on and offer us ideas on how to offer the richness of the Gospel to our brothers near and far, through words and works:
How happy and blessed are those who love the Lord and do as the Lord himself says in the Gospel: “You will love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul, and your neighbor as yourself”. Let us therefore love God and adore him with a pure heart and a pure mind […] (FF 186-187).
Let us also produce fruits worthy of penance. And let us love our neighbors as ourselves. And if one does not want to love them as oneself, at least do not harm them, but do good (FF 190).
The friars who go among the infidels can behave spiritually among them in two ways. One way is that they do not have quarrels or disputes, but are subject to every human creature for the love of God and confess that they are Christians. The other way is that when they see that it pleases the Lord, they proclaim the word of God so that they may believe in God almighty the Father and Son and Holy Spirit, Creator of all things, and in the Son the Redeemer and Savior, and be baptized, and let them become Christians […] (FF 43).
In n. 34 of the encyclical Lumen fidei, the first of Pope Francis, but conceived and initially drafted by Pope Benedict XVI to complete the encyclicals he had already written on hope and charity (Pope Francis added “further contributions “ to this initial draft), we read:
The light of love proper to faith can illumine the questions of our own time about truth. Truth nowadays is often reduced to the subjective authenticity of the individual, valid only for the life of the individual. A common truth intimidates us, for we identify it with the intransigent demands of totalitarian systems. But if truth is a truth of love, if it is a truth disclosed in personal encounter with the Other and with others, then it can be set free from its enclosure in individuals and become part of the common good.
As a truth of love, it is not one that can be imposed by force; it is not a truth that stifles the individual. Since it is born of love, it can penetrate to the heart, to the personal core of each man and woman. Clearly, then, faith is not intransigent, but grows in respectful coexistence with others.
One who believes may not be presumptuous; on the contrary, truth leads to humility, since believers know that, rather than ourselves possessing truth, it is truth which embraces and possesses us. Far from making us inflexible, the security of faith sets us on a journey; it enables witness and dialogue with all.
The witness one gives with their life and, when they see that it pleases God, the gentle, respectful proclamation of God’s word, are therefore the fundamental elements of the mission.