“And they urged the king, these notables, to make an end of [Jeremias]; ‘He goes about,’ said they, ‘to weaken the resolve of the garrison, and of the people at large, by talking in this fashion; there is malice here, not good will.’ ‘He is at your disposal,’ king Sedecias answered; ‘not for a king to withstand you!’ So they had their way with Jeremias; he should be left helpless in the cistern of Melchias the son of Amelech, there in the court where the prisoners were kept. Into the cistern they lowered him with ropes; there was no water in it now, only mire, and into the mire he sank.”
Prophecy of Jeremias, 38: 4-6 [link]
Our readings this weekend have been about martyrdom, for we are able to see the price that was paid by people of God in these readings, the price they paid for allegiance to God. And allegiance to God and communion with Him are still very much what we Catholics are all about. I often say that we who are a remnant of what was once a larger and more bustling Catholic community in this country must bear the responsibility for holding out the gospel message to a society that is increasingly hostile and anti-Christian. It’s a difficult job, and there’s no mistake. When the Bishop tells us that we have to work towards being ‘missionary disciples’ in this respect, he probably knows how hard it is to be a missioner even within our immediate family and circle of friends. For several decades at least and a few centuries at most, religion has been something of a social faux pas, and has been seen as creating more problems than we need. In more ways than one, we who attempt to be faithful are lowered (as Jeremias) into the cistern, and find ourselves sinking into a mire.
But, religion deals with the very foundations of our individual beings and of our human communities; ignoring it and setting aside other basic divisions within our increasingly multicultural society – simply to avoid debate and confrontation – creates what politicians like to call broken societies, and (most recently) an island of strangers. The modern prophet will then have to address his message to a much broader audience than the Hebrew prophets could have dreamt of, although some of them were sent beyond the borders of Israel to other nations. A prophet like Jeremiah, a priest like S. Paul (in the second reading) and our Lord Himself were working determinedly within a common culture, a common philosophy a monolithic society. As England used to be, perhaps.
But an England united in faith and creed lies behind the mists of history. The present situation can more easily mirror the divisions that King Henry brought in five hundred years ago. Following his separation from Rome, when the new religion of the English church was established, the old Catholic religion had to be suppressed. Now, in the new arrangement of multiple cultures, a new politically-correct state ‘religion’ is being established, and the old Christian religion has to be suppressed to an extent. Or deliberately secularised by political pressure.
It sounds horrible when this is happening to us now, but if we peer into the Old Testament, we find that the reason why the prophets kept getting sent to the people – to draw them out of idolatry and reinstall the ancient religion of the Hebrews – was that Jerusalem and her kings and nobles were constantly being drawn by international fashions into worldly ways. They were forgetting who they were (the people of God, unshackled from the world) and what they were about (expanding the reign of God, with no king/ruler over their hearts but God Himself). By the influence of Egypt, the great power to the south-west, golden calves kept appearing in the Holy Land. By the military threat of Assyria and Babylon, and on a smaller scale Syria, there was likely a policy of appeasement with these Eastern powers, with the corresponding effect on the culture and society of the Hebrews. If this situation sounds familiar, it is not unlike what the Church has struggled with for two thousand years. And in the midst of it all stood the prophets, preaching about Moses and the Tabernacle and the Temple, of trust in the Holy One, in Whom alone could salvation be found – not in worldly economies, and military might, and diplomatic agreements. Simply turn back to God, yelled the prophet, God Who wants not sacrifices of animals as such, but humble, contrite hearts, broken hearts. Hearts of children looking for their Father God to redeem them from the burdens of the world.
And when the prophet stands up to protest about the corruptions of the religious traditions of the people, in the pursuit of worldly interests and material wealth, the people do not want to hear it. Their hearts are far from God and religion, as much in the days of Jeremiah as in our own. Look at the first reading today and consider if it doesn’t say something about society’s desire to belittle Christianity, to bring Christ down from His being the divine Son of God and sacrificial Redeemer of the human race to plain old wandering rabbi, to ridicule pope, bishop and priest whenever possible, to water down and trivialise the gospel message. The Church is just one more religious community, they will tell us, another merchant selling a dismal and disheartening message of sin and death. Let us instead enjoy this world to the full, for there is nothing beyond this life. Let’s try and confiscate her immense wealth (King Henry actually did this, he thought he and his friends were more entitled to it) and toss her into a well, where she can die. The story of Jeremiah in the first reading also includes a cowardly king – Sedecias, or Zedekiah – who instead of defending the prophet hands him over to a mob.
“Why then, since we are watched from above by such a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of all that weighs us down, of the sinful habit that clings so closely, and run, with all endurance, the race for which we are entered. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the origin and the crown of all faith, who, to win His prize of blessedness, endured the cross and made light of its shame, Jesus, Who now sits on the right of God’s throne.”
Letter of S. Paul to the Hebrews, 12: 1-2 [link]
S. Paul’s great cloud of witnesses in the second reading were martyrs in the first century, who paid the ultimate price for maintaining a Christian message in the ruthless world of the Roman Empire. As Paul says, these martyrs of the early Church – prophets all – kept their eyes fixed on Christ, as they endured similar tortures to His own, making light of the shame of it. And so they share His reward.
Again, when our Lord says in the gospel story that He brings fire, so that allegiance to Him will divide families, we see the immense price that is paid by those who attach themselves to Him, for they very often lose family and friends in so doing. Those of us who are converts to Christianity understand this all too well, and those who study the history of religion in this great country as well.
“‘It is fire that I have come to spread over the earth, and what better wish can I have than that it should be kindled? There is a baptism I must needs be baptised with, and how impatient am I for its accomplishment! Do you think that I have come to bring peace on the earth? No, believe Me, I have come to bring dissension.'”
Gospel of S. Luke, 12: 49-51 [link]
So then… great are the sacrifices that we make (i) in relationships, (ii) in popularity, (iii) in possessions, to be prophets of God, to bear witness to Him, to stand firm when the whole world laughs at us, pushes us into the mud and the mire and calls blasphemies after Him Whom we love. It tears at our hearts. The psalm we have this weekend at Mass demonstrates the prayer of the prophet, who sings praises of God from the deep pit he was forced into. In this psalm, we hear the voice of Christ Himself.
“Patiently I waited for the Lord’s help,
Psalm 39 (40) [link]
and at last He turned His look towards me;
He listened to my plea, drew me up out of a deadly pit,
where the mire had settled deep,
and gave me a foothold on the rock,
with firm ground to tread.
He has framed a new music on my lips,
a song of praise to our God,
to fill all that stand by with reverence,
and with trust in the Lord.
Happy is the man whose trust is there bestowed,
who shuns the rites of strange gods, the lure of lies.
O Lord my God,
how long is the story of Thy marvellous deeds!
Was ever care like Thine?
How should I tell the tale of those mercies, past all numbering?
No sacrifice, no offering was thy demand;
enough that thou hast given me an ear ready to listen.
Thou hast not found any pleasure in burnt-sacrifices,
in sacrifices for sin.
See then, I said, I am coming to fulfil what is written of me,
where the book lies unrolled;
to do Thy will, O my God, is all my desire,
to carry out that law of Thine which is written in my heart.
And I told the story of Thy just dealings before a great throng;
be witness, Lord, that I do not seal my lips.”
Catholic Louth and Mablethorpe 