Up, not out

A homily for the 30^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sir 35:12-14, 16-18, 2 Tm 4:6-8, 16-18, Lk 18:9-14

When we hear about a natural disaster or a manmade tragedy (and, yes, dammit, they’re made mostly by men), how do we react? How do we act?

Probably the first thing we do is consider how much loose change we have, or whether we’re willing to skip a pumpkin spice latte this week, so we can send a few bucks to whatever charitable organization is taking the lead on relief efforts.

And with the ability to donate online, we can make a tiny bit of difference without getting off the couch. Website or app, click here, card information already stored, type in the CVV afresh, submit. 

And for less than a dollar a day…

Yeah, we all know those commercials, don’t we?

At a time in our history when charities seem to be big business, and when the need for them seems to outstrip what they can do, we start to wonder about the state of the world.

And it’s easy to become blasé or even cynical. Oh, that again. Oh, those guys again. What can be done? Can anything be done? 

God says, “Yes. Plenty!” 

Sirach gets us started.

The prophet assures us that our Creator hears everyone’s prayers, especially the pleas of people in distress.

(Whenever I read passages such as this, the hymn plays in my head: “The Lord hears the cries of the poor. Blessed be the Lord!”)

And the prophet then tells us that God will answer swiftly with the correct solution.

Have we ever felt a gentle tapping on our shoulders and weren’t sure what it was all about? That was God letting us know that we’re part of the solution. God’s hands on Earth.

No divine lightning to re-energize the power grid. No shingles mystically and magically reattaching themselves to wind-scarred roofs. No walls uprighting themselves. No split-second drainage of rain-swollen creeks. 

No, it’s more like pontoon boats and Coast Guard helicopters and neighbors in waders and gloves. Volunteers with those aforementioned charities who got up, got out, and cooked and served meals and comforted children and carried victims to their final resting places.

We all get that tap on the shoulder from time to time as the situation arises. We need to be ready to receive it, and be ready to respond to it.

If the Lord will not delay, we can’t either.

In our Gospel today, Jesus puts down the Pharisee for his arrogance — and rightly so — but the Pharisee does deserve a break for having done his acts of charity. No, they didn’t come from the bottom of his heart or from the heart of his wealth, but the acts of charity did help to support the community.

And we could spend all day — or many days — reviewing the true nature of humility. 

So, instead, let’s recall another crucial message, that of how justice and charity are interlocked but far from the same. And how we desperately need both.

Charity puts out the fire. Justice mitigates all the reasons why wildfires start.

Charity rescues the drowning person. Justice stops people from falling into the river … or jumping.

Charity heroically tackles and restrains the gunman. Justice enacts and enforces common-sense laws and educational processes to prevent hate-filled slaughters of our innocent sisters and brothers.

Charity feeds hungry people. Justice makes sure that food can be grown and that it is distributed fairly.

Charity is now, from giver to recipient. Justice is long-term, and everyone should participate, especially if recipients of charity can offer insights into their condition and how they got the way they did. True solutions emerge when the problem is clearly understood, whereas well-meaning but uninformed people’s ideas can be as harmful — or worse — than the current injustices.

Improvement — or cure — not merely change.

Charity and justice both challenge us to use our unique God-given gifts and talents to contribute everything we can, starting with the Submit button on that website or app but then going beyond. Walking our talk.

Yes, it’s true that charity is a handout, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Charity is always in short supply.

Justice, though, is a hand up, and everyone everywhere deserves a society whose rules and regulations and systems and processes serve only to uplift.