Sermon - Year C

33rd Sunday of Ordinary time

It’s the end of the world as we know it. Strangely enough, I remember that this song, by the American band REM, was the most requested on a radio show years ago after Mr Trump was elected as the US President for the first time. It seemed to reflect the mood of the show’s audience, almost bordering on hysteria. ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it’ pretty much summed up the initial reaction of many people around the globe. Since then, several years have passed. In the meantime, I switched to a different radio station as my default, a choice unrelated to the show I’ve mentioned, so I don’t know if the broadcaster recycled the idea following Mr Trump’s triumph the second time.

It’s the end of the world as we know it. In today’s gospel, Jesus addressed His audience, who were captivated by the beauty and grandeur of the Jerusalem Temple, and made a shocking announcement: it would be completely destroyed. This revelation was startling because, unlike many religions of the time that had multiple temples, Judaism had only one designated location for sacrifices and offerings. This temple was precious to every devout Jew. Their entire lives revolved around it, and adult males were required to make a pilgrimage to it. The Old Testament mandated that every Jew visit the temple three times a year. Given its significance, the thought of losing the temple, something that had happened in the past, was a source of dread for the Jewish people. In fact, the threat of destroying the temple was one of the charges brought against Jesus leading up to His crucifixion. For His audience, Jesus’ announcement was a true foretelling of the end of the world as they knew it.

What followed in Jesus’ speech was even more astounding. He told them not to treat any natural or man-made disasters as signs of the end of the world. He warned them against doomsayers claiming any authority to interpret those disasters as such. Natural and man-made disasters have always been an inescapable part of life and will sadly continue to be so in the foreseeable future. They have been and always will be some kind of end of the world as we know it, but nothing out of the ordinary, in the sense that the world still keeps turning, the lost are mourned for a while, and then life quickly moves on.

Jesus warns us against falling for the doomsayers’ spell: “refuse to join them.” Our time is no stranger to prophets of doom. In our feverish times, anything can be used as a pretext for extreme ideology: extreme in its predicted consequences, and extreme in its worldview. Quite often, those extreme views are real causes of disaster, as proponents of one side or the other try to impose their views on their opponents, sometimes with extreme, even deadly violence. In the Gospel, Jesus called his followers to choose a different path: to adhere to his teachings and apply them to their own lives, even if the price is as high as mockery, denouncement, rejection, or even persecution. As long as you apply what you genuinely believe to your choices and decision-making, it can be heroic. The moment you start imposing your views on those who don’t share your values, it can become oppression. It may sound controversial in my mouth, but in the multi-religious, multi-cultural and multi-national society we inhabit these days, a law based on particular religious beliefs doesn’t make much sense. Aeons ago, I heard from my professor of Canon Law that laws prescribe the minimum requirements of decency but should not force people to heroism. Cultivating a heroic attitude (or sainthood, if you prefer) is a matter for one’s personal abilities and choices.

It’s the end of the world as we know it. All the dramatic changes we have witnessed in our lives, on a personal, individual, local, national, or international level, have certainly impacted our own lives and shaped us in one way or another. There are more changes to come, and come they will for sure. The chorus in the song – it’s the end of the world as we know it – is followed by a surprising twist: I feel fine. I wish that you would feel that way too.