The Bible (opened)
Sermon - Year A

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

“There was never a day when Covid-19 rules were fully followed in No 10, Whitehall’s former ethics chief has said. […] She said she would find it hard to pick one day when the regulations are followed properly inside that building.” This report from the UK Covid Inquiry shows the attitude of the British government officials in stark contrast to the overwhelming majority of ordinary citizens, who did their best to stick to the rules introduced by them. If it weren’t too painful for many people who paid a massive price for their adherence to those strict rules, it would be amusing to have such a timely illustration of the attitude denounced by Jesus in today’s gospel: “They tie up heavy burdens and lay them on men’s shoulders, but will they lift a finger to move them? Not they!”

It would be easy to think that Jesus’ highly critical view of the then-Jewish religious leaders was limited to that particular party and died with their disappearance. St Matthew recalled that episode in his gospel because its meaning remained highly relevant in the early Christian communities, every now and again riven by power grabs and torn by factions. There’s plenty of evidence of that in the New Testament. It was the case then and throughout human history because hierarchical structure is hardwired in our minds. We are social creatures, and – as in every herd or flock in the animal kingdom – we instinctively act and interact in order to establish our position within the community. That’s the natural order. Jesus didn’t try to change it but rather to take control of it. St Thomas Aquinas defined it beautifully: “Grace does not destroy nature but fulfils its potential.” It applies to all our natural instincts, needs and desires. In the case of power and authority, Jesus didn’t reject the natural order: “You must […] do what they tell you and listen to what they say.” But then, in the second part of today’s gospel reading, he presented a completely different model of power and authority, summarised in the final line: “The greatest among you must be your servant.” He reiterated it in a dramatic fashion when, at the Last Supper, he washed the disciples’ feet (something usually done by the lowest of servants or slaves) and then explained his action: “You call me Teacher and Lord – and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” (John 13:13-15) Hierarchy, authority, and leadership are not a problem. But the way in which they are wielded and exercised can be.

“With great power comes great responsibility.” This catchy phrase might be familiar to fans of Spiderman. However, it originated in the gospel: “When a man has had a great deal given him, a great deal will be demanded of him; when a man has had a great deal given him on trust, even more will be expected of him.” (Luke 12:48) It’s a matter of fact that talents and skills are not distributed equally. Nor have we all equal opportunities and chances in life. It’s not rare that we can be envious of others’ seemingly better fortune, but similarly, the fortunate ones can easily fall into the trap of boastful pride and self-importance. Once I met a man with whom I shared a passion for photography. He was very keen to show me his equipment, worth literally thousands of pounds, something I could never afford. Or need, to be honest. At one point, I was struck by the fact that, while he very proudly displayed the equipment, he wasn’t showing any photos taken with it. In the course of our acquaintance, I saw some of his pictures, and I wasn’t impressed. He was a very nice and kind man but not a talented photographer, and no amount of expensive equipment could have changed that. What you have (in every sense) matters only when you make good use of it. All that we have is given us to serve one another, not to dominate or exploit others.

“You […] must not allow yourselves to be called Rabbi. […] You must call no one on earth your father. […] Nor must you allow yourselves to be called teachers.” Jesus’ apparent refusal to address people by various titles was set in opposition to the expectations and demands made by the Pharisees: “Everything they do is done to attract attention, like […] having people call them Rabbi.” Jesus, on the other hand, rejected the notion that respect is automatically due to the individual’s formal position regardless of their personal qualities (or lack of them). I consider myself very fortunate to be told years ago that “no one respects you because of your job title. They respect you for who you are and what you do.” I always keep it in mind. Will you?