The mouths of babes

A homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 5, 2020

Zec 9:9-10, Rom 8:9, 11-13, Mt 11:25-30

There’s something to be said for bumper-sticker theology. Not a lot, mind you, but definitely something to be said, and it’s this:

Most of what Jesus preached does not need over-thinking.

Which means that much of what he preached — and what he expects us to incorporate into our lives every day — can fit on the back of a Chevy.

Jesus says as much as he prays in today’s Gospel:

“I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
for although you have hidden these things
from the wise and the learned
you have revealed them to little ones.”

Revealed them to little ones.

How profound is that! How unexpected! How radical!

How radical was that in First Century Israel, to even acknowledge that children had worth as individuals? They were possessions, sort of, and easily replaced. They weren’t counted in crowd estimates, and they couldn’t grow up fast enough as far as farmers who needed laborers were concerned.

But Jesus valued women and children in that highly patriarchal society, and in a manner far removed from the paternalistic “women and children first into the lifeboats.”

Jesus valued children enough to acknowledge that they had the capacity to understand the essence of The Way:

Love God.

Love your neighbor as yourself.

Bumper sticker-ready.

Now, there’s much to be said about high theology, most of it good and profound in its own way. High theology helps all of humankind to begin to understand why we are here, where we are going, and who started all this in the first place. High theology comes through with answers time after time when life becomes complicated, as life in A.D. 2020 did infinity times infinity.

High theology helps us deepen our relationship with Almighty and Infinite God, whose boundless love for us is demonstrated through all of Creation, especially in the creation of us, ourselves, children of God and members of the human family. God gave us life, God sustains our lives, and that’s the truest sign of love any of us can imagine.

In every good relationship, there’s give and take. God does most of the giving and we do most of the taking; that’s what happens when one party to the relationship — us — is on a less-than-equal footing. It just is, and God understands that. God has no problem with that.

That’s a vivid example of pure, unconditional, merciful love.

Now, because God’s life is fully sustained, s/he doesn’t need much from us directly in return other than love, thanks and praise. No, what God wants is for us to pay forward the love that has been showered on us and to help spread more evenly the advantages and wealth of this world throughout our human family.

It’s not an easy task, to be sure, and the immediate pandemic and the long-term entrenched systems of racism and prejudice and privilege make the job of ensuring justice for everyone all the more challenging.

Think about making a PBJ on Wonder Bread. (Could there be anything whiter?) Start with chunky peanut butter that’s been in the cabinet for a couple of weeks. Spreading it evenly edge-to-edge on that soft, white slice takes a long time and extreme care because the bread tears so easily. Because that bread is a lot more fragile than we’d care to admit. Because that bread is us, and it’s far from the Bread of Life Jesus gave us.

Our tasks in life are far larger, far more complicated, and yet far more delicate and precise than a sandwich. They will take determined and sustained action. As Christians, we accept the cross, we accept the burden.

Yes, Jesus demands that we take up his yoke, but promises the burden will be light. How can that be? Whenever we think of a yoke, we think of beasts, not people.

Hefty critters pulling a wagon. Clydesdales or mules or oxen.

Just thinking about it makes my legs and shoulders ache.

But Jesus promises the burden will be light, and Jesus keeps his promises.

Because Jesus is yoked alongside us. We are not alone; that’s not how a yoke works. We are part of a team yoked together. We share the load; we spread the weight. Jesus and the Holy Spirit are helping us with the enormous tasks of setting the world aright, the tasks that are laid out throughout Matthew’s Gospel, and especially in these green-vestment Ordinary Times.

Jesus is steering us toward the completion of our mighty tasks; the Spirit is sustaining us. Our souls are fed with the Eucharist, even if only through spiritual communion while we ease back into in-person churchgoing. I believe that Zoom and YouTube and Facebook Live all qualify under “wherever two or more are gathered in my name.”

But why else is the burden light?

Check out the back of that Chevy over there.

Love God.

• Be in awe of Creation, every day. Let your jaw drop at sunrise. Be astounded at sunset. Listen for the birds and the frogs. Admire the rabbit chewing on your lawn. Be flabbergasted by everything a child tells you.
• Be grateful. Say it and pray it.
• Find joy, because it’s woven into everything, including work and mourning.

Love your neighbor as yourself.

• WWJD?   
• What do you want for yourself? Get it and share it.
• Work for justice, equality and equity.
• Rid yourself of biases, active and especially unconscious.

Our Heavenly Father has revealed these things to the little ones because they’re simple — that doesn’t mean to be taken lightly or easily dismissed — and fundamental. God has revealed these truths to the little ones so they can build their entire lives upon them.

And then, a child shall lead us.