Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year C
One of the main requirements in the beatification process is that of proof of heroic virtue. In the course of the Servant of God’s life, it must be shown that he or she lived this or that virtue to a heroic extent. Setting a good example is one thing. Setting a good example that goes beyond the ordinary is the stuff that makes up the life of a person who may eventually become a saint, for all to look up to and to imitate.
It sounds very reasonable, this proof of heroic virtue, in the making of a saint. What it also does is that it puts sainthood, becoming a saint, effectively out of my reach, because I am an average Catholic, trying my best in my own way, and my best is, well, just average. Heroic is not for me, I say.
Until I come across this Sunday’s gospel. The demands of Jesus in his sermon on the plain, Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7, sounds exactly like the heroic virtue requirement. In the lazy and self-defeating thinking of me being an average Catholic, I am again tempted to decide that Jesus was talking about those who will become saints one day. Not about me.
Until I listen to the gospel properly. He was talking to ordinary people who were following him, seeking him out to hear him speak. The demands we hear him speak of, heroic virtue, are the stuff of ordinary Christian living. In other words, it is for me too.
Me, a saint?
Yes, I know. It sounds as far-fetched as do good to those who hate, bless those who curse you, pray for those who treat you badly, turn the other cheek, love your enemies, please Lord Jesus, just stop it right there.
He doesn’t.
He goes on to deliver the final blow. The great impossible. Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. A kinder version of Matthew’s ‘be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.’
Jesus, listen to me, I can’t!
Until I listen to the readings properly.
David, in the first reading, is given Saul on a plate, to finish him off. Saul, his enemy, who did him great injustice several times, out of mere jealousy. David does not do it. Mercy is possible, even when you have the upper hand. It is possible not to take the pleasant road of revenge that comes so easily to any of us.
Paul, in the second reading, states it so plainly, when he says we are modelled on the heavenly man. On Jesus. We are children of Adam, of the dust of the earth, but ever since God became human, we are just like him. O yes, have we not been created in the image and likeness of God? So. We can be compassionate as our Father is compassionate, perfect as He is perfect.
That heroic virtue thing?
Sorry, it’s for us all, no excuses.
Comes from listening to the word of God properly.