14th Sunday of Ordinary Time
July 6, 2014
Collect
Iona College, New Rochelle, N.Y.
“O God, in the abasement of your Son you have
raised up a fallen world” (Collect).
We resumed Ordinary Time the day after
Pentecost, June 9. Finally, we celebrate an Ordinary Sunday instead of some special
feast, as we’ve done the last 3 Sundays.
The Collect this evening could very well have
been an Easter season collect with its contrasting themes: abasement and raising up, slavery and
gladness. The reference to slavery is
also nicely timed with our Independence Day weekend—only by coincidence, to be
sure, for such things don’t figure into the calculations of those who prepare
the liturgical books in Rome.
God’s Son was abased, our prayer says, brought
low from his place in heaven. There’s an
allusion there to the early Christian hymn that St. Paul quotes in
Philippians: “His state was divine, yet
he did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself to assume the
condition of a slave, and became as human beings are” (2:6-7 NJB). Altho human beings tend to consider ourselves
the peak of God’s creation—and that’s right in a theological sense—yet it’s a
comedown for the Son of God to become human, a far bigger descent in dignity
and splendor than any monarch ever suffered on being overthrown and cast into
prison.
The Latin word in the Collect translated as
“abasement” is humilitas, which in other
contexts might be rendered “humility.”
Its root is humus, “earth,
dirt.” Our utmost lowliness as human
beings is related to our earthiness; and this is what God’s Son took on,
“assuming the condition of a slave, becoming as human beings are.” In fact, human,
too, comes from humus. The traditional words of Ash Wednesday cut to
the core of our being: “Remember that
you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
The Son’s abasement or humiliation in our human
condition had a purpose: to “raise up a
fallen world.” Christ didn’t sink into
our human muck and get stuck there; he grabbed hold of our humanity and thru
his resurrection and ascension elevated it to the same place where he’d come
from, the throne of God. Christ has
restored to humanity the dignity we had when 1st we came from God’s hand,
before we fell into sin and rebellion, into hatred, into loathing goodness like
Mordred in Camelot (“Fie on goodness,
fie!”); before we fell into “slavery to sin.”
This weekend we celebrate our freedom and the
aspirations of the entire human race for freedom—aspirations we sometimes find
in July 4 rhetoric and do find scattered in elements of the day’s liturgy. July 4, of course, is about political liberty
and its related themes like economic and religious freedom. We’ve just concluded our 3d consecutive
Fortnight of Freedom, trying to raise public awareness of current threats to
religious freedom and freedom of conscience.
But when the Collect speaks of slavery, it
specifies “to sin.” God’s Son has
rescued us not from political tyranny but from diabolic tyranny, from the rule
of sin, of hatred, of selfishness, of despair in our lives, from what St. Paul
calls the works of the flesh (Rom 8:9-13)—our personal lives and our lives as a
community of human beings. God’s Son
took the condition of a slave and was tempted as we are; unlike us, he lived
always in freedom, not yielding to the devil.
Through the forgiveness of our sins in Christ,
we’re “rescued” or redeemed or restored to friendship with God. We’re empowered to live in the Spirit like
Jesus, to do the deeds of the Spirit. We’re
given hope of inheriting heaven with Jesus, of attaining the gift of “eternal
gladness” alongside our Risen Savior. We
pray God to fill us, his faithful people, “with holy joy.”
Joy comes from being in God’s grace, from living
as his children, and that joy is holy because it’s based on God’s own life
filling our souls, our hearts, our very existence. This joy spills out of us and infuses the
community: our families, our workplaces,
our social interactions, even our political interactions as we live out our
relationship with Jesus—a relationship that leads us to imitate his virtues, to
make his goodness our own: his
“graciousness,” his “mercy,” his “great kindness,” his “compassion,” his
“faithfulness” (Ps 145).
No comments:
Post a Comment