Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 79​

“You have heard that it was said..., But I say to you..."

Ordinarily, on the Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time, in the A-cycle, we hear the beginning of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, beginning with:

When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying..."

followed by the Eight Beatitudes. Several following Sundays give us more passages from that "Sermon." This year, because that Fourth Sunday fell on February 2 (the Feast of the Purification) we missed that particular passage. So here we are, three weeks later, immersed in Jesus' first great teaching.

Whatever response we might give to these chapters in Saint Matthew's gospel, the first thing we should notice is his authority. In today's gospel he says six times, “You have heard that it was said..., But I say to you..." 

We can well imagine some of the crowd saying, "Who is this guy?" Religion, by its nature, is traditional; it comes with the suggestion that This has always been; these are eternal truths and values set in stone. We expect our religious authorities to say what they always said, what we have always heard. 

If the world outside the Church is continually changing and always in flux, the world within the Church should never change. It is stable, predictable, and reassuring. The religion continually reminds a distracted people of who they are, who they have always been, and who they must always be. 

The Pharisees offered that kind of religion. It was the Law of Moses; it was unchanged and unchanging. The Jews, more so than other nations, had a sense of history. They knew there was a time when God had not chosen a people, a time before Abraham and Sarah. But there was no science of history to try to locate that patriarchal couple within the secular world. They did not have an existential sense of history happening continually. If there was technological progress, as there was, they did not expect progress. What they saw of history, they didn't like. Change was not welcome. It augered the decline of morals and the deterioration of social norms. The past was better than the present, and the kids today! What can we do with them?

So when Jesus stands up and declares, "You have heard it said... but I say to you!" they have to wonder, "Who is this guy and where does he come from?"

Two thousand years later, the religion of Jesus has also collected all the hoary tradition of the Pharisees and their Law of Moses. Even my generation, which seemed to welcome change in the 1960's, looks askance at some religious developments of the twenty-first century. "Now just a minute...!" we might want to say to ordained women, gay marriage, and gender transition.

I, for one, who chafed under the strictures of tradition in the middle of the last century, often appeal to the authority of tradition, "We've never done it that way!"

However, the Spirit of Jesus, ever ancient, ever new, leads and guides us into the future. The Spirit intones Jesus' historic words, now deeply imbedded in our tradition, "You have heard it said... but I say to you."

New inspirations, ideas, and institutions often appear untraditional. I toured an art exhibit featuring the painter Whistler (known for his portrait, "Whistler's Mother"). HIs contemporaries were astonished at the outlandish oriental influences he introduced to his paintings. When I saw them a century later, they looked entirely European; I had to be told of their oriental forms and colors. They seemed entirely traditional, especially when compared to "modern art," -- which is also rooted in tradition.

So long as we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus while remaining confident of Mary, the pure virgin mother who is the Church, we needn't worry too much about the changes. Our faith assures us of eternal salvation, and it promises that future generations -- our dear children -- will also hear and welcome the Everlasting Word.