I think we can all agree that comedy – in various forms – is among the most popular forms of entertainment. My favourite one is stand-up comedy and I have to admit that I consume quite a lot of it. Partially because – thanks to the internet – I’m able to watch or listen to relatively short comedic snippets rather than to commit to a full-length film or show. I guess that I like comedy for all the reasons you do, but also because it incidentally offers me insight into general public thinking. Successful stand-up comedians are those who can pick up the public’s pulse, worries, anxieties, concerns and so on. They get laughs and applause because they address those things from a different, comedic angle. Religion regularly appears among the topics picked up by stand-up comedians. It’s mainly Christianity (much safer than some other faiths) and mostly approached in a mocking mode. That’s fine by me; Jesus foretold that so no surprise here; and – secondly – if any religious faith cannot stand being poked fun at and resorts to censorship or violence, it presents itself as weak and unconvincing. This comedic perception of Christianity offers me something invaluable: public perception and understanding of the faith or its specific aspects. It often differs wildly from my biblical and theological education and knowledge, which means that as the Church we have failed to educate in the faith our own members as well as others. This lack of understanding or a complete misunderstanding leads people to question their religious beliefs or replace them with something akin to superstition. A common argument against God is the presence of suffering in the world. The argument has various forms but essentially it claims that God’s existence and suffering are irreconcilable.
It’s not a new problem. Today’s gospel presents a similar conundrum of how to comprehend the killing of some innocents murdered by the imperial soldiers in the temple, or the death of 18 people under the collapsed building. Based on Jesus’ response we can safely assume that some people offered a simplistic explanation: the victims had committed some sins and their deaths had been a just punishment meted out by God. Incidentally, this kind of thinking remains surprisingly popular. At the beginning of the pandemic, there were some Christian “thinkers” who offered such a judicial explanation of the plague. Jesus completely rejected this kind of thinking: “Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? […] Or those eighteen on whom the tower at Siloam fell and killed them? […] They were not, I tell you.” The notion that God immediately rewards our good behaviour or punishes us for our wrongdoings – though “attractive” to some or “scary” to others – is plainly wrong. Undoubtedly, we can reap the harvest of our goodness or evil in the course of our lives but when it happens, it’s a direct or indirect consequence of our attitudes. Those who treat others well are more likely to be treated well too – but it’s never guaranteed. In the gospel, Jesus didn’t offer any explanation or justification of the suffering; perhaps because there wasn’t one. Suffering and pain are inescapable parts of life that can play an indispensable role on many levels. Winston Churchill said: “Never let a good crisis go to waste” which echoes Jesus’ comment on the two dreadful events: “unless you repent you will all perish as they did.”
We tend to think about repentance in religious and moral terms as an act of reversing from evil to good in our actions. Although this isn’t wrong, it’s certainly too narrow an interpretation. The Greek word used here – as I keep explaining in my sermons – has a much wider meaning of a complete change of one’s mindset. Such a change might lead to religious or moral transformation but should never be limited to that. Unchallenged prosperity naturally leads us imperceptibly to complacency, self-absorption and spiritual slumber. Petty squabbles, quick irritation at minute troubles, jealousy, arguments blown out of proportion – these are just a few examples of what happens when we lose the right perspective. We all have to “repent” whether we are religious or not; “repent” in the sense of being woken up from our slumber and re-evaluating our life priorities. The most important one of those is that my life isn’t given to me for my own contentment but for the benefit of others. Jesus left no room for misinterpretation: “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:24)
This is not a call for some silly, irresponsible or fanatical bloody martyrdom. It’s a call for the martyrdom of everyday life which is much harder and more demanding than a one-off spectacular sacrificial act. Without forgetting the enormous suffering of those affected by the bestial cruelty of the unprovoked war in Ukraine we can see how it has triggered a massive wave of support, from individual to global and everything between. More importantly, this wave is mainly made of tangible, measurable, practical actions that speak louder than words. Hopefully, when this particular crisis is over and soon, we will keep the charitable attitude going, because every day we are sent, as was Moses, to carry out the deliverance promised by God.
Image by brands amon from Pixabay