“We have really everything in common with America nowadays except, of course, language!” That was King Charles’ opening joke in his address to the US Congress a few weeks ago. The famous quote by Oscar Wilde refers to much more than purely linguistic differences, like spelling or pronunciation. A language is always deeply rooted in and conveys the cultural heritage of the people who use it. Among many differences, one between the US and the UK has been particularly obvious in the run-up to the recent elections. American politicians tend to brag about their abilities and achievements to such an extent that it verges on, or even slips into, full-on delusion. In the UK, there’s a competition among aspirational politicians over who is more working-class, from more humble beginnings, or has a more heart-rending backstory, as a vote-winning strategy. I find the difference between the two countries intriguing. The bombastic style in the US is dripping with Christian references, while overwhelmingly secular UK politics seems to be much closer to the traditional Christian attitude of humility and modesty.
Today’s second reading is a very short fragment from a three-chapter-long argument made by St Paul to the Christian community in Corinth. Most societies in the ancient Roman world were highly hierarchical, with positions defined by factors such as hereditary lineage, wealth, and power. This kind of thinking was widely adopted by members of the Christian community in Corinth, where various gifts of the Holy Spirit (charismata) were used as defining characteristics to position themselves within the community. Some gifts were valued more than others, and consequently, those who received them considered themselves more worthy than their fellow believers. It went totally against the spirit of the Gospel and required a strong intervention and correction. As I mentioned earlier, St Paul devoted three chapters, nearly one-fifth of the entire letter, to this matter – it’s really worth reading in full. Having learnt the context, we can now see how the fragment we heard today concisely summarised his arguments. Firstly, as God is the source of all gifts, services and activities (“it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone”), they are therefore all equally important. Secondly, the purpose of all those gifts is to serve the community (“to each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good”), not to boost one’s ego or elevate the position within the group. Thirdly, all the gifts are complementary to one another (“the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body”), so none of them is deemed less worthy than the other. Consequently, in the Christian community, no factors, inherited or acquired, make anyone better than others: “in one Spirit we were all baptised into one body — Jews or Greeks, slaves or free — and all were made to drink of one Spirit.” In short, a truly Christian community is built on equality of its members, charitably serving others with their gifts, talents and skills.
Our parish reflects that model to a great extent. We are blessed with people who volunteer their time to sustain this community and make it grow. Some of them can be seen and heard, like readers, musicians, and altar servers. Many more work tirelessly behind the scenes, and we only notice them when, for whatever reason, they can no longer serve. I remember a lovely man in my previous parish who took great pride in looking after the church building and grounds and keeping everything ticking. He had always been a much-loved and highly respected member of the parish community, but only when he suddenly passed away did we all realise the extent of his quiet service. Today, as we celebrate the beginning of the Church as a community of the faithful, we must ask ourselves what gifts, skills, and talents I can offer to my fellow parishioners and to the local community outside the church. The latter is as important because our call is to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth. The late Pope Francis many times described the Church as a field hospital, where wounds are healed, the vulnerable are welcomed, the weak find support, and the doors are open to reconciliation and forgiveness, all done with compassion, like the Good Samaritan. We build up our community in order to go out into the world and bring the joy of the gospel to it. In our noisy and busy lives, we might feel we have no time to spare. But there’s a paradox presented by Jesus: “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” (Mk 8:35) Many have found out that the life of even small sacrifices has added a strong sense of purpose and fulfilment to their lives. If you think you have nothing to offer, remember the words spoken by God to the prophet Jeremiah: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” (1:5) Each one of us has been called to life for a reason. Sometimes we just need to discover it. St Mother Teresa expressed it very well: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” In fact, since the Passion and Resurrection of Christ, the world has been transformed mostly by those who spoke softly with the language of love, the language of God.
