2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 9-14; 2 Thessalonians 2:16-3:5; Luke 20:27-38
In 1968, Chicago mayor Richard J. Daley was questioned about allegations of police brutality during the riots. He famously responded that “the policeman isn’t there to create disorder; the policeman is there to preserve disorder.” Although we can laugh at the mayor’s confused language, we understand the thought behind it. The common good of every society demands order. In fact, order means so much to us that from capital punishment to the military draft, we allow the government even the right to take life to preserve and protect it.
However, leaders can presume too much on this right, as the first reading shows. The story takes place about 170 years before the birth of Christ. The king is not named but is known to be Antiochus IV Epiphanes. Unlike other successors of Alexander the Great, the king took exception to the Jews’ refusal to adopt Greek culture. In his anger he desecrated the Temple by erecting a statue of Zeus in it and, as we heard, commanded that the Jews either learn to live with a pagan diet or die with their own.
Although the king was certainly a tyrant, at least he was honest; he never pretended that what he was doing was good. More recent tyrants hide their brutality behind euphemisms. Less than a century ago when the National Socialist party came to power in Germany they arrogated to themselves the legal right to define the mentally and physically handicapped as “unworthy of life” and their extermination a “mercy.” They later redefined mercy as ridding society of Jews, to “purify the race.” They weren’t alone; think of the genocides in China and Cambodia and the “ethnic cleansing” in Bosnia and Rwanda.
Even worse, the latest attacks on life target the weakest and most defenseless. Consider the elderly and infirm. When euthanasia was legalized in parts of Europe, it was hailed as a “mercy” and critics were reassured that strict safeguards defined who could be terminated. Once again though, mercy was redefined; now a physician can legally terminate anyone over 70 or those of any age who say that they are suffering mentally or physically and no longer want to live. Those declared mentally incompetent have someone else decide for them. In the United States, physician-assisted suicide is legal in two states and under consideration in others. At the other margin of life, abortion advocates defined person-hood beginning at birth but did not foresee the redefinition proposed by the bio-ethicist Dr. Peter Singer who wrote: ‘Human babies are not born self-aware, or capable of grasping that they exist over time. They are not persons…(T)he life of a newborn is of less value than the life of a pig, a dog, or a chimpanzee.’ Singer wrote that in 1979. To atheists such as he, humans are just another animal; nothing more. As atheism has continued to grow, Singer’s ideas have gained a foothold. The cause for redefining what it means to be a person has begun. Again. We may well live to see a society where it is perfectly legal to declare an infant as “unworthy of life.”
The fatal flaw of every tyrant is that they see the worth of the human being as beginning and ending with the mortal body. Like the Sadducees’ misguided argument, this fantasy dissolves in the light of Christ who in the gospel defines the body not in terms of mortality but of eternity when he says that those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead … can no longer die, for they are like angels.. they are the children of God because they are the ones who will rise. Society may arrogate to itself the right to manipulate, control, even destroy the human body but they are powerless to define its worth or control its destiny.
The martyred brothers and their mother from the story in Maccabees knew this, and it is the power behind the hope given in the second reading when St. Paul speaks of the endurance of Christ. This is the power that drives the good to endure, to hold onto the promise of resurrection in the face of a tyrant who promises only death.
We who have inherited this faith must never forget these two lessons from the readings: First, the worth of the human body was not, is not, and never will be ours to decide. God has given us freedom, so we can define and re-define who is and who is not worthy to live, but in the end these are just words; our laws are meaningless when not based on divine law and their power stops at the same death long since conquered by Christ. Second, silence that allows such deadly evil to go unchallenged is complicity in it and as such is a breakdown of the moral conscience. Even if it seems too powerful, even if it seems that everybody else agrees, even if it hides behind euphemisms such as “mercy killing” or “reproductive rights,” Christ asks us to stand – alone if need be – call evil what it is despite the consequences, and do whatever we can to bring light into the darkness, for as St. Francis of Assisi once taught, all the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.
Finally, the parables teach us that the love of God works mysteriously through the process of conversion so that no matter how hard we search for Christ, it isn’t we who find him but he who finds us. Our life stories are a testament to the truth of the parables and Isaiah’s words that we have
The psalmist today sings Save me O Lord in your mercy (Psalm 109:26). The readings are God’s answer to that prayer. In his infinite love and mercy he assures us that no matter how hypocritical we are, how much a Pharisee, or how much we deserve it, we are never alone. God is always true to his word and today his word is that there is nothing – neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature – that can separate us from the love of Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 8:38-39).
That is the image I think of now when I think of saints. Not images set in glass that glow with the sunlight, but people who now and forever glow with the radiance of the one true Light – Christ, the Morning Star who never sets.
To win this combat and know the peace of Christ we need the armor of the virtues; prudence, to discern where our good lies; temperance, to know when we should move on; justice, to understand that the love we give our neighbor and God is the love we owe them; and fortitude, to constantly yield our will to that of Christ, for only his is the love that casts out all fear, not only restoring us to right relationship with the Father, but reconciling us with each other.
In Luke’s gospel, Jesus said
There is much more we could say on this, the day we remember him, but it would only belabor the point, which is that none of his work would have been possible unless this man had given himself completely over to the will of the Father, in devotion to our Lord Jesus Christ, through the power and inspiration of the Holy Spirit. But he did, and this masterpiece was the result.
St. Ignatius of Antioch understood this. The depths of divine love moved him
This is what the saints and the blessed have discovered. The greatest good in life is to see and serve Christ; that is what gives our life its ultimate meaning. However, we will never be able to do that until we see Christ in each other and become Christ for each other. St. Paul knew this; that is how he could write that the grace of apostleship is found in the obedience of faith. By faith we believe that God loves everyone and that we are to love as God loves, but it also teaches that the people who we think are least deserving of our love are the ones most worthy of it. Thus, obedience to the faith means that as apostles we are sent to be Christ and to find Christ in everyone, even those we find hardest to serve. Only grace can provide the humility and openness to vulnerability that can empower us to do the work for which we have been sent.
As the Catechism teaches, hope is “the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength” (CCC 1817). Joel pointed toward Christ our hope when he spoke of the spring that