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NINETEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME – YEAR A

Fernando Armellini - Sat, Aug 12th 2023

FAITH MATURES IN MOMENTS OF CRISIS

Introduction

Church and broader society relationships have always been accompanied by tension, conflict and misunderstanding. These are highlighted even more starkly with the coming of empiricism and rationalism that characterized the thinking of the 17th and 18th centuries. The purely naturalistic worldview and the unconditional trust in reason seemed to have undermined the very foundations of faith and the supernatural. The historical and archaeological research of the 19th century showed apparent inconsistencies in the traditional interpretation of the Bible.

Dictated by suspicion and fear, the response of believers was not immediately serene. The purification movement of ideas, language, and religious practices suffered delay, setback, rethinking and involution. Today it is possible to highlight the significant changes stimulated by the secular challenges. They came up, especially after the Second Vatican Council. From the study and meditation of the Word of God, an image of the divine no longer imprisoned in archaic categories, but with a new human face, a more evangelical Church and the proposal of a society based on authentic values is emerging and being delivered to the world, even amid contradiction.

Something similar already happened in the days of the prophet Elijah, as the First Reading will tell. Jesus asked his disciples for a greater change in mentality than indicated in the Gospel passage. The path of conversion is not yet fully revealed. The Spirit is inviting Christians to project their insight, minds and hearts beyond the narrow horizons within which fear can hold them prisoner and interpret the signs of the times, despite the criticism of non-believers.

 

  • To internalize the message, we repeat:

“Even if I cross through a dark valley, I fear not because you, Lord, are with me.”

 

First Reading: 1 Kings 19:9a, 11-13a

At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter. Then the Lord said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the Lord; the Lord will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord—but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire—but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave. 

 

We are in the first half of the ninth century B.C. Omri, a skillful and resolute general, has just taken power in an uprising. The Book of Kings gives him scant recognition—only six verses (1 K 16:23-28)—but the political, social, and mainly religious upheavals which occurred during the 11 years of his reign profoundly marked the history of Israel. He built a new capital on the mountain of Samaria, introduced new agricultural techniques, boosted trade, supported cultural development, and strengthened the army. In a short time, he managed to make Israel a rich and powerful nation.

To consolidate alliances with neighboring kingdoms, he arranged a few marriages. Of these, one had dramatic consequences: the one between Ahab’s son and the intriguing, ambitious and charming, but wicked Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal, king of Tyre.

It was the beginning of apostasy from the Lord because the bewitching foreign princess immediately insisted that Baal and Asherah, the divinities of her land, be worshiped in Israel. For them, she had a magnificent temple built in Samaria and imposed their cult as the kingdom's official religion.

In this period of tension, “the prophet Elijah came like a fire; his words a burning torch” (Sir 48:1). He came from Gilead, the land beyond the Jordan, on the borders of the desert, “wore a mantle fur with a leather belt around his waist” (2 K 1:8) and led an austere life. He quickly averted to the “colonization” of the minds and consciences carried out by the queen. He intervened to denounce the danger of religious and moral corruption. Despite his effort and courage, he could not convince the people to remain faithful to the Lord. At the height of desperation, one day, he vents his anger at his God: “The Israelites have forsaken your covenant. No one is left but myself, yet they still seek my life to take it away” (1 K 19:14).

It is at this point that our reading starts. To escape Jezebel, who wants to kill him, Elijah flees. He chooses the way of the wilderness and goes to the mountain of God, Horeb, the Sinai, where 400 years before, Moses had spoken to the Lord. Upon arrival, he enters a cave to spend the night. Behold, the Lord invites him to go out and to wait for a sign.

Here a great and strong wind blew up and split the rocks. Then after the wind, there was an earthquake and a fire (vv. 11-12). According to the prophet, these were the unmistakable signs of the passage of the Lord. It was amid these impressive phenomena that God had always presented himself to his faithful servants in the past. He presented himself to Moses in the fire, between lightning and thunder, while the mountain shook to its foundation (Ex 19:16-19). Baal, the god of Jezebel, also appeared in the storm and the hurricane. He rode the clouds, hurled thunderbolts, and hovered in the wind. Elijah remained surprised that the Lord was not in the mighty wind, earthquake, or fire.

“After the fire, there was a murmur of a gentle breeze” (v. 12). As Elijah heard it, he covered his face with his cloak. He understood that it was the moment that the Lord passed. God revealed himself in a whole new way. The translation of v. 12 should be corrected. The original Hebrew text does not speak of ‘light wind,’ but a voice of gentle silence heard by the prophet. It was in silence that Elijah captured the revelation of the Lord. It was a leap forward in his journey of faith. The God of whom he had hitherto firmly believed still had the archaic traits of pagan deities. He was strong, tremendous, and always ready to show his strength against the enemy. He was the one who on Mount Carmel confronted Baal and won (1 K 18:20-24). Now, Elijah understood; it was not the Lord who had prompted him to cut the throats of the prophets of Baal at the brook Kishon, but the false image he had of God.

In the ‘voice of gentle silence,’ he had come to discover the true face of his God. He realized that his ‘zeal for the Lord’ was none other than fanaticism. He realized that the conviction of ‘being left alone’ to worship the Lord arose from dogmatic intolerance. In Israel, seven thousand men had not bent their knees to Baal, but Elijah had not noticed (1 K 19:18). “Come on! —says the Lord—take the road back” (1 K 19:15), inwardly transformed by the ‘voice of gentle silence’ that he has heard.

The spiritual experience of Elijah can be repeated by anyone who knows how to keep an interior silence by silencing the misleading voices that have inculcated a false image of God. In a calm reflection on the Bible and the Gospel, he lets himself be flooded by the true light, the light that shines on the face of Christ.


Second Reading: Romans 9:1-5

Brothers and sisters: I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie; my conscience joins with the Holy Spirit in bearing me witness that I have great sorrow and constant anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh. They are Israelites; theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen. 

 

The wise Ecclesiastes said: “For the wiser you are, the more worries you have” (Ecl 1:18). We might comment: the more we love the more pain. The thought of a son, a brother or a sister making foolish choices and ruining their lives deeply saddens us. They accompany us all the time as an obsession. The moments of joy are also shrouded with bitterness and melancholy.

We are not resigned to the fact that these loved ones let go of happiness they could easily grasp. We love the Church, and we would like her as dreamed of by her Spouse: pure as “the rose of Sharon, like a lily of the valleys” (Song 2:1). Instead, we see her at times, hesitantly and less evangelically colluding or in oblivious connivance with the powers of this world. What should those who suffer for love do? Nothing except continue loving and waiting, with the patience of God, praying that the seed of the Gospel will accomplish the miracle of the conversion of hearts.

The example of Paul is enlightening. He felt the tragedy of the rejection of Christ by his people deeply. He took the salvation of Israel to heart. He said, using a paradox, that he would willingly be excommunicated and cut off from Christ if this would serve to recover his people (v. 3). His heartfelt words are reminiscent of Moses’intercession, “And now please forgive their sin… if not, blot me out of the book you have written” (Ex 32:32).

Paul could not understand that the chosen people, the children of Abraham, the heirs of the promise made ??to the patriarchs, had rejected the Messiah of God (vv. 1-2) when he wrote to the Romans nearly 30 years after the death and resurrection of Jesus. During this time, he tried in every way to announce Christ to his Israelite brothers and sisters without reward, indeed, against much opposition.

In the last two verses (vv. 5-6), the privileges that Israel has received from God are listed; the previous, the most important of all, is the fact that Christ is the son of this people. Despite the present sadness, there is a thought that comforts the apostle: the promises of God are irrevocable, and if he has allowed the hardening of Israel’s heart if he has “submitted all to disobedience, it is to show his mercy to all” (Rom 11:29,32). The thought must console whoever suffers for love: the story of every person, however, will end with salvation.


Gospel: Matthew 14:22-33

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile, the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. “It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Peter said to him in reply, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” After they got into the boat, the wind died down. Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.” 

 

“Get up and eat, for the journey is too long for you," the angel of the Lord said to Elijah, fleeing into the wilderness. “The prophet stood up, ate and drank and on the force of that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God” (1 K 19:7-8). To this famous story of the gift of bread and water from the angel to Elijah, the revelation of the Lord narrated in the First Reading followed.

In the Gospel passage, the scene is repeated. The disciples, nourished with the bread offered by Jesus(Mt 14:13-20), now receive the order to get moving, to get into the boat to the other side. Like Elijah, a revelation of the Lord awaits them.

There are several strange details in this episode. It is not easy to find a reason for the order given by Jesus. Why does he let them go by themselves? Where must they go at this hour? Why doesn’t he go with them? Why does it take them too long to cross the lake? I do not think it is because of the bad weather that he calmly goes up the mountain to pray and stay there until just before dawn (v. 25). The claim of Peter to walk on water is especially striking and—in the case of a proven swimmer—his fear of drowning (Jn 21:7).

These unique details make the exegete suspicious. It is an invitation to approach the passage cautiously because it is not a miracle story but a page of theology written in biblical imagery.

Some of these images are well-known. The darkness of the night is there, with its negative connotation, in several Old Testament texts. Recall, for example, the psalmist who cries out to God without finding rest (Ps 22:3). It is with this darkness that the disciples are to confront themselves. When evening came, Jesus ‘forces them’ (this is the verb used in the original text) to get into the boat and head to the ‘other side.’ We get the impression that they are reluctant and that they would like to stay near the Master. However, after having fed them with his bread, he wants them to leave, to undertake the dangerous journey alone. The food he gave them is his Word and his own person present in the sacrament of the Eucharist. Nourished by this dual bread, they have the necessary strength to accomplish the difficult crossing.

If Jesus were visibly present on the boat, the darkness would disappear; instead, the darkness blackens. When evening came (v. 13), indicates, in the symbolic language of the evangelist, the conclusion of Jesus’ day. It is the end of his life. It is the moment in which he ‘climbs the mountain’ alone, moves away from the crowds, and definitely enters the world of God. This is why the disciples find themselves in the dark. Darkness is the image of disorientation, doubt that captures even the most convinced believer. At times, even those driven by strong faith feel alone. He undergoes the harrowing experience of God’s silence and wonders if his choices, his sacrifices, his commitment to the good make sense.

Then there is the headwind. The Israelites have had the experience of the “mighty wind unleashed over the desert” that strikes and brings down the house (Job 1:19). They know the “east wind that shatters the ships” (Ps 48:8) and the “tempestuous wind” which whips up the waves, batters ships, plunging them to the depths, reeling like drunkards, despite all the seamanship of the crew (Ps 107:26-27).

The author of the Letter to the Ephesians employs this image to describe the senseless reasoning of people, the mentality of this world as opposed to that of Christ. To the Christians of his communities, Paul recalls: “Then no longer shall we be like children tossed about by any wave or wind of doctrine and deceived by the cunning of people” (Eph 4:14).

The waters were, in the Old Testament, images to describe the forces that lead to death. The psalmist, afflicted by a severe illness that is leading him to the grave, cries out to the Lord: “From above, reach down and draw me out of the deep waters” (Ps 144:7); another, having been healed, says: “A deadly flood surrounded me, devilish torrents rushed at me … Reaching down from above, he drew me out of the deep waters” (Ps 18:5,17). The Lord promises to his people: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, the rivers will not sweep over you” (Is 43:2).

The Israelites were always afraid of water. They said, only the Lord is not afraid of whirlwinds and storms. He who, by his word, separated the “waters below and the waters above it” (Gen 1:7). He alone can “hush the billows to silent waves” (Ps 107:25-30), and he is the only one who “treads on the waves of the sea” (Job 9:8).

If we keep in mind this symbolism, we understand the fear of the disciples. They fear being overwhelmed by the forces of evil and death. They are in the dark and do not perceive the Master next to them. A dramatic situation, but inevitable, and they must face it. The waves tossed about the boat. The original text uses the Greek verb ‘basanizo,’ which appropriately means ‘to put to the test.’ The ‘basanos’ was the hard stone used in Lydia to verify, through violent rubbing, if a metal was valuable or worthless. The waves torment, almost torture the disciples but are necessary tests they must undergo if they want to get out with dignity.

Towards the end of the night, Jesus appears, walking on the waves of the sea, as only God was capable of doing (Job 9:8). The disciples do not recognize him. They believe it has something to do with a ghost. Their reaction is bizarre. What happened? Why can’t they recognize him? We are not confronting a factual account but a page of theology. Matthew is describing, in biblical language, the situation of the Christian communities of his time. They were ‘tormented’ by many trials, distressed by doubts, and above all disoriented by the fact of not having the Master visibly with them, who would have infused safety and courage into them.

The evangelist wants to enlighten them. Jesus is always close to his disciples, even to the end of the world, as he has promised (Mt 28:20), but not physically, as when he walked the roads of Palestine. He is present in a different way, as a ghost. This is the pale image used in the Gospels to describe the Risen Lord and his new condition of life. When, on the day of Easter, he appears amid the disciples, “in their panic and fright, they thought they were seeing a ghost” (Lk 24:37). It is not easy to be aware of his presence. He becomes recognizable only with the eyes of faith.

The second part of the passage (vv. 28-33) contains a dialogue between Jesus and Peter. It starts with the request of the apostle: “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water” (v. 28). His question is odd, but only if taken in a literal sense. If it is understood in the symbolic context of the whole story, then the meaning immediately becomes clear. Peter, the first of the disciples, beholds the Master—The Risen One—who crossed the waters of death and now, walking on the sea, is in God’s world. Peter knows he is called to follow him through the gift of life, but death scares him. He fears not succeeding and asks the Lord to give him strength.

As long as he keeps his eyes fixed on the Master, he can go to him. When his faith diminishes, when he begins to doubt the choice he made, he sinks and is afraid of being overwhelmed, of losing his life.

It is the description of our condition. ‘Come to me now—the Risen Lord repeats to every disciple. Do not be afraid of losing your life. If you hesitate, death will make you afraid. If you trust in my word, the waters of death will not scare you, and you will cross over and catch up with me in the resurrection.’

 

READ: Jesus reaches out to the disciples in trouble, walking up to them on the water. Those in the boat bowed down before Jesus saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’

REFLECT: Jesus asks Peter, “Why did you doubt?” Jesus challenges the sudden loss of faith of Peter amid turbulence. What would God be asking us when we meet Him face-to-face? 

PRAY: Let us ask God to probe our innermost being and lead us to conversion.

ACT: Today is a good day to confess your faith regarding who Jesus is for you. Take some time and proclaim with your whole being that Jesus is your Lord and Savior.

 

 

 

 

 

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