Feast of Holy Family - Homily 1

Homily 1 – 2004

Matthew shapes his account of Jesus’ childhood in such a way as to highlight patterns that he will develop in detail as the story unfolds.  In today’s Gospel, the dark cloud of political oppression forces the family of Jesus to get on the move, seeking asylum as refugees across the border in Egypt.

Political danger was later to overshadow the public life of Jesus.  He began his ministry after his predecessor, John the Baptist, had been imprisoned – and eventually lost his life – on the altar of political expediency, of national security.  It wasn’t long before a group of Pharisees colluded with agents of Herod’s secret service seeking ways to eliminate Jesus.  Eventually they succeeded, again in the interests of national security.

Where was God while all this was going on? Doesn’t God look after those he loves?  or does he make a few exceptions? What is God doing in my life? your life? the life of your family members? Does God look after us? He seems to have pulled no strings, no levers, to protect Jesus, either as child or as adult.

Certainly the Gospels delight in seeing precedents in the Hebrew Scriptures – that we can misinterpret as God kind of “writing a script” for Jesus’ life – predetermining things.  But that is to miss the point of the phrase “that the Scriptures might be fulfilled”.  God respects history.  Causes have effects, and effects have their causes.  People’s decisions have their inexorable consequences.  God respects people’s freedom, their choices, even highly destructive choices.

Does that mean, then, that God sort of “washes his hands” of human history, of your and my history? I don’t believe so.  God chooses to work with us from the inside, and without always necessarily identifying himself.  God calls us, gently invites us, especially empowers us – though always with regard to our freedom – but never forces us.  People can, and so often do, say NO.  

So God starts again, continues to call, invite, to empower, orienting us constantly towards life, towards love.  God does not seem to stop me doing something evil or destructive to others.  I still sin.  God does not seem to stop others doing something evil or destructive, to me.  But even when I am victim of others’ actions, God still calls me, the victim, invites and empowers me to respond in ways that lead me to take firmer hold on life and on love – while leaving me free.  Sometimes I shall respond and choose life; sometimes I shall retaliate and repeat the cycle of violence.

Some of Jesus’ opponents persuaded Pilate to execute Jesus.  God did not stop them.  Jesus became the helpless, unprotected, victim of their actions.  But God still called, invited and empowered Jesus to respond in ways that led him to take a firmer hold on life and on love.  He absorbed violence in his own flesh without returning violence for violence.  He became perfect, in fact, through his suffering, and in the process became source of salvation to all who follow his way.

In his account of the flight of Jesus’ family as refugees across the border into Egypt, Matthew foreshadows the struggle with evil that will develop in Jesus’ public life.  He shows us, in wonderful imagery, God at work within Joseph, calling, inviting, empowering. 

In our lives, most of us can’t boast of dreams – but the quiet, almost unobservable call of God can echo just as effectively within us, especially those of us who try to sensitise ourselves to his voice.