Homily from the Parish Priest for the Fourth Sunday in Lent
One November day 5 or 6 years ago I have strong recollections of a walk on the Seven Sisters on the South Downs. Our timings had been quite loose and we’d not really catered for the early sunset. Still with 3 or 4 miles to go to reach Seaford we were relying on the light of the moon. It can be an unnerving experience being enveloped in darkness right out in the country. This wasn’t the first time I’d been in this position though. As one who grew up in the countryside you get used to the dynamics of darkness and light. Daybreak seems so much more illuminating and long dark evenings more isolating. Thankfully, in 21st century Britain, unlike developing countries today where artificial light is so noticeably absent, it’s not long before we are brought into the light, and indeed it wasn’t long on that November day before the bright lights of Seaford welcomed our weary band of walkers.
As our days lengthen and nights shorten the Church gives us a beautiful Gospel reading which invites us to embrace the light and emerge from the darkness. “Come out into the light”, says Jesus to Nicodemus. As in the light we see the truth. In today’s world I sense that for many it’s often difficult to know where the truth lies, as the truth is so often manipulated and obscured. Fake news, polemics on either side of the argument encouraged by 24 hour news, conspiracy theory, perhaps, it seems to me whose generation grew up with a basic few newspapers, no internet, the BBC and ITV, just too much media going on, becoming the medium which rather than sheds light often confuses so much we’re literally left in the dark. It’s no wonder many end up questioning if the vaccine is safe, the infection rate really is coming down and if it’s really safe to come to church. The answer to all those three is clearly in the affirmative but there is so much fake news out there it is difficult to see the truth. But we are indeed beginning to see the light at the end of the long tunnel of the lockdown and, if the majority of us are vaccinated and are still careful, we can look forward to all the things we miss at Farm Street as we sing hymns again, socialise in the Arrupe Hall and in the Gardens, in the pub and build a Christian community unfettered from social distancing, sanitising and the computer screen.
Where are you in that tunnel now as we begin to see the light which will beckon us back to some kind of new normality? What have we been learning from this time, where the truth is in that, and what will we take from the experience of this dreadful time to help us respond to the task to rebuild in what Pope Francis is calling this ‘change of era’? I for one find Pope Francis’ leadership truly inspirational at this time. He sees a world on its knees yearning for a society which is more authentically human, which is more just, where everyone’s dignity is respected, where the light of truth shines forth and dispels the darkness. In going to Iraq recently we saw our Holy Father proclaim a Gospel of light and truth to a country which, more than most any, has been through a long tunnel of darkness and falsity. In a time of confusion St Ignatius would have us always return to what gave us stability, consolation amid desolation. In a time of despair Jesus reminds us always to remember the hope which his coming heralds – and St Paul in this letter to the Ephesians is preaching just that to his community, remembering that God has won the victory for us shattering death and sin, bringing us to hope in being fulfilled as we are, each one of us his people, a work of art called to give glory to God. In a time of darkness it is the role of the preacher, it is the role of each one of us, to look for the light which we hope and know is true will bring us, God’s beloved, to safe harbour.
The Book of Chronicles – we don’t hear it very often - written around 520-400 B.C. after the disastrous exile of the People of Israel in Babylon – recalls how, after the long 70 year tunnel of darkness which saw the Jewish people in slavery in Babylon, the Lord calls his people back to the light of truth and hope. But this will take action, will involve a concerted effort. We are called to respond with all the gifts we are given as human society, and each one of us individually such a work of art called to give glory to God. The author cajoles the faith community into a purer proclamation of what they believe and what they practice as a result of that communal belief. Their religious practice had become “polluted" and so collapse was inevitable but if the nation had kept its focus on God and what he called us to in the 10 commandments the 70-year exile in Babylon would not have happened.
Where are we right now in our Christian lives? In the middle of this unusual season of Lent? In this tunnel where we maybe can see glimmers of the light? We will have our own reflections on that which are personal. But the readings today remind us too of who we are as the Church, as God’s people, a community of faith. In Lent our religious observance is not just personal. It affects the world around us – our families, work colleagues, and those we don’t get on with. We stand together as a Church to proclaim a wonderful hopeful and joyous message which we want others to hear through the practice of our lives. Because God, John tells us, did not send the Son into the world to condemn us, but to save us. This is the God who in his cross and resurrection shows us what God is all about, what faith is all about, what being human is all about: what total sacrificial love means, love for all people and especially the sinner and the outcast. This is the God who on this Laetare Sunday points us to the light of the resurrection which changes our lives and our world for ever.
This season of penance, of fasting and almsgiving – this holy season of Lent – also invites us to respond with joyful hearts. To remember that to be Christian is to proclaim to others around us that God is with us, especially in our pain and suffering. This God who died and rose for us doesn’t ever leave us in despair. He overcame all the evils we humans could do and raised Jesus up. Like the Israelites in the desert, and like Nicodemus in his holy wisdom, we are called to turn our eyes to Jesus on the cross of hope. When we look to him and what he did for us we see just how much God loves us. In the light of Jesus we are given the certainty of hope in each and every one of our lives, in our families, for our Church, for our world.
Fr Dominic Robinson SJ