Many of you know that two of my favorite comic strip characters are Calvin and Hobbs. There’s also another little kid I like almost as much. You may even prefer him to Calvin. And that’s Charlie Brown. If I asked you to describe Calvin, I’d probably get a lot of different answers. But with Charlie Brown, there seems to be one adjective that almost everyone would agree on. What one word do you think best describes Charlie Brown? Wishy-washy! Just about everyone knows about “good ol’ wishy-washy Charlie Brown.”
Some of you may also be familiar with the Gospel according to “Peanuts“. Well, today, I’m not going to give you the gospel according to Peanuts; but I do want to focus on that idea of being “wishy-washy”. Our first reading for today certainly has someone who appears to be very “wishy-washy:” King Zedekiah.
King Zedekiah seems, to me, to be someone who follows the advice of whoever happens to have spoken to him last. At first he listened to the princes of Judah when they advised him to toss the prophet Jeremiah into a deep, muddy well. A short time latter, when another nobleman pleaded on Jeremiah’s behalf, King Zedekiah ordered that Jeremiah be taken from the well. It would appear that King Zedekiah was not able to make up his own mind and stick to it for very long.
On the other hand, there is Jeremiah, who – like all prophets – spoke out no matter what the consequences might be. After all, prophets are those who speak out on behalf of God and tell us what must be heard, despite the cost both to them and to us. They tell us things which must be heard; even when we don’t want to hear them.
This brings us to the Gospel Reading we heard today. Here we have a passage that often surprises us. Each weekend, we usually hear a gospel in which Jesus tries to teach his disciples, and us, about how we are to love our neighbor. Today’s reading seems to be a major exception to this message of healing the sick, of comforting those who are imprisoned, of feeding the hungry, of loving our neighbor as our self. Today we hear Jesus tell his disciples: “I have come to light a fire on the earth. … Do you think I have come to establish peace on the earth? I assure you; the contrary is true; I have come for division.” Then he goes on to tell about strife between the generations: between father and son; mother and daughter; and between members of the extended family such as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.
When the early Christians heard this reading, they knew at first hand what it meant. They were often directly effected by these conflicts of division for the sake of Jesus the Christ. In those years of the separation of the Christian community from the main body of Judaism, there were many families in which the children and parents would go separate ways; with one joining the followers of the Nazarene and others holding steadfast in the covenant Moses made with the Lord God in the desert of Sinai.
Jesus was telling his disciples that it would not be easy to follow him; to follow his teaching. There would be division between members of the family; between friends and loved ones. At the same time, he did not favor such division. He, himself, cried out: “What anguish I feel till it is over!” But he tried to tell his disciples not to be taken by surprise when it does occur.
What about us? What do these words mean to us, today? Although there are families in which division may occur when there is a conversion to Christianity or to a particular denomination of Christian belief, are they the only ones to be touched by this harsh prophecy made by Jesus to his disciples? As you might expect, I believe his words apply to all of us and not only to any converts who are estranged from their families.
I believe his words apply to all who must make hard choices in order to follow his teaching. They apply especially to those who speak out for justice and for change. They apply to all of us who are called to be prophets in the modern world. What we fail to realize is that everyone of us is called to be a prophet. Not just someone like Father Ed or Father Norbert. Not just someone ordained to the diaconate who happens to give homilies. Rather, each one of us, through the power of our baptism, is called to be a prophet.
It’s hard to be a prophet. It’s difficult to speak out about those relationships and events which effect our future. For this, too, is what a prophet does: speak out on what is needed in order to influence the future. So often the future is tied so tightly to the present and to the past. No wonder it’s so difficult to speak out. Yet there are times when we must speak out and bear the anger of former friends. As with Jeremiah, there will be some who will want to toss us into a deep, muddy well; to separate us from themselves and from others.
Some might believe I should now talk about such modern-day prophets as Mickey Leland or Lech Walesa who have spoken so eloquently about freedom from hunger or from oppression. Or perhaps, about a woman like Mother Theresa. Each of these people is, indeed, a prophet in one way or another, for many who suffer injustices or abuse. But, instead, I want to reflect upon how each one of us may be called to be a prophet. How each one of us must speak out for those who are abused. I would offer for your own reflection, the entire area of abuse – of abuse which effects our future. Of abuse that is grounded on the past as well as the present.
First of all, there is the abuse of people. Call it child abuse or wife abuse. Even husband abuse or abuse of elderly parents. There are times when the victims of such abuse must speak out. But when these victims do this, they are shunned by society. They, too, are placed in dark wells so that they can be silenced. They, too, need others to aid in their release from their various forms of imprisonment. Just as Jeremiah had the active assistance of Ebed-Melech, these victims of all ages must have the help of friends who come to their aid.
Besides the abuse of individuals, we also have the abuse of our planet, the abuse of our environment; an abuse which effects our future and is based upon the actions of the present and our past. Here, too, we have prophets who speak out for change. They, too, are scorned by others. How many times are they dismissed as being merely “environmental kooks?” Those who speak out for the protection of our air, our water, our earth, which are gifts of the father, are told that “profit”, spelled with an “f”, is more important than being “prophetic”.
Yet, how do we know what is truly “prophetic”? If we are all called to be prophets, then what you say should be just as important as what I say. How, among all of the conflicting claims, do we hear the words of the true prophets and dismiss those of the false? How do we strike a balance without either being led away by an extremist or being accused of being “wishy-washy”?
Even in what seems to be a well-defined area such as child abuse, where does discipline and training end and physical abuse begin? Where does a hug, love and affection end and sexual abuse begin? In the protection or abuse of our environment, what is the distinction between preservation and conservation. What is meant by the scriptural injunction from the book of genesis: “Be fertile and multiply: fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things that move on the earth.” This passage alone deserves its own homily. One which dwells on the true meaning of “dominion” and its relationship to the Latin words, domus, or home, and domine, our Lord, our family protector.
But for now, as a signpost towards an answer of how do we distinguish between a true prophet and a false one, I would call your attention to the Second Reading we heard today. In his letter to the Hebrews, Paul writes: “Since we for our part are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses; let us lay aside every encumbrance of sin which clings to us and persevere in running the race which lies ahead; let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, who inspires and perfects our faith.”
We are not confronted by only one prophet; instead we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, a cloud of prophets. It is taught that a prophet who speaks for God does not really depart from ancient truths but, rather, recalls our attention to those truths which we have forgotten. A prophet reminds us of what God has taught, of the truth written on our living hearts and not stony hearts. When you hear the words of a true prophet calling you to a change, your heart will know that you have heard these words before and that they are true. Listen to the cloud of witnesses who have been part of your own life, who have spoken on your behalf before, and who speak to you now.
Finally, in order to follow the true prophets in our world today, we must “persevere in running the race which lies ahead”. We must keep trying to hear the words of those around us and to speak words of encouragement to others. But most importantly, “let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, who inspires and perfects our faith.”
I sometimes think that Saint Paul would be right at home in our American culture, which puts so much emphasis on jogging and running for health. He seems to know that a runner cannot look back, but must always focus on the goal ahead. The perfect race might also be run if there is a coach constantly at the runner’s side, running along right there, to shout instructions every moment of the race, to give encouragement each step of the way. To tell the runner what is right and what is wrong with each stride, with each breath.
Yet this is the kind of race each of us is running. With our coach running at our side each one of us is able to tell the false step from the true one; each one of us can tell the difference between the true prophet and the false one. Moreover, each one of us can become a prophet for others.
Finally, there is no need for us to be a wishy-washy Charlie Brown. There is no need for us to have the “gospel according to Peanuts.” Instead, we have the Gospel of our Lord. And what we have, we must also share: the Gospel, the Good News of our Lord, Jesus the Christ.
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time; August 20, 1989
Jer 38:4-6, 8-10; Heb 12:1-4; Lk 12:49-53