Commentary on Revised Common Lectionary

Edgar A. Gamboa
THEO 60108 - WISDOM LITERATURE
Final Examination (Assignment #2)
(The Rev.) Hugh R. Page, Jr. Dmin, PhD

The Revised Common Lectionary for New Year’s Day (Year A) offers the following selected readings:
Hebrew Bible: Ecclesiastes 3:1-13
Psalm: Psalm 8
Epistle: Revelation 21:1-6a
New Testament: Matthew 25:31-46

Ecclesiastes or Qoheleth is one of the three canonical Wisdom Books, the other two being the Book of Proverbs and the Book of Job. The Book of Psalms is a collection of hymns and prayers, the majority of which are appropriate for liturgical worship. The book does contain wisdom motifs and rightly considered part of Israel’s wisdom tradition. Psalm 8 expresses Divine Majesty and human dignity in the context of God’s creation.
The theme of transition weaves a thread through the four readings. On the brink of chronological change from the old year to the new, the selections are timely. Was part of the agenda perhaps to make the significance of the end of time the first thought of the New Year? The reading from Chapter 3 of the Book of Ecclesiastes reminds us of the rhythm of nature, of the cosmos. This popular poem enjoins us to discover and appreciate the rhythm of life, of our individual and collective journeys.
“There is a time to plant and a time to pluck what (was) planted” (Eccl 3.2). As in nature, “there is (for us) a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Eccl 3.4). The ebb and flow of sadness and happiness, of boredom and delight, are universal human experiences. We have our ups and downs, our tragedies and our triumphs. The Divine Creator has graciously put this imprint in nature, in the world. “God has put a sense of past and future into (our) minds.” (Eccl 3.11)
We are finite, mortal creatures, yet God, in His incomprehensible infinity, is nevertheless mindful of us, poor, struggling descendants of Adam and Eve. As a loving Father, God genuinely cares for us (Ps 8.4) and solicitously provides us with our needs (Matthew 6.25-34). Indeed, our loving God said through the prophet Isaiah (49.15-16): “I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name.” The wisdom literature bridges the infinite gap between an all powerful and omniscient Creator and the fragile, often unwise and at times foolish, beings that God had created in His image and likeness (Gn 1.27). Out of his infinite goodness, God gave us the present world, the “works of (His) hands” – “all sheep and oxen…the beasts of the field, the birds of the air...the fish of the sea” (Ps 8.6-8). Without merit on our part, God gave us dominion over all creation. (Ps 8.6). God “crowned us with glory and honor”, making us “a little lower than God” (Ps 8.5).
Yet, God wisely reminds us that the present world, as wondrous as it is, will come to pass. “A new heaven and a new earth” will come, “a New Jerusalem” will come down out of heaven, beautiful and stunning to behold, “as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev 21:1-2).
The Apocalypse (contracted from the Greek apokalupsis eschaton and translated literally to “revelation at the end of the aeon, or age”) or simply, the end of the world as we know it, is depicted in the cited reading of Matthew (25.31-32). The Gospel story tells us, in the preceding chapter, that as Jesus was “sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples approached him privately and said: ‘Tell us, when will this happen, and what sign will there be of your coming, and of the end of the age?” Jesus then warned them that “many false prophets will arise and deceive many” (Matthew 24.11). “Nations will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be famines and earthquakes from place to place” (Matt 24.7). “Immediately after the tribulation of those days, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken” (Matt 24.29). “…and they will see the son of Man Coming upon the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a trumpet blast, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other” (Matthew 24.30-31).
In the referenced passage form Revelations, John envisions “God dwelling ...with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away” (21.3-4.) From the text, it appears that God’s plan for creation will culminate in our immortality in God, who is “the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end” (Rev 21.6).
It is a glorious transition from the old to the new world, as we puny mortals become immortals, reunited for all eternity with our Creator. However, the Last Judgment in Matthew’s Gospel depicts a cautionary scenario, which Michelangelo providentially plastered to the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel for our daily reflection and meditation. “When the son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left” (Matthew 25.31-33). Righteous deeds, a frequent admonition in the wisdom literature, will be rewarded; in particular, the corporal works of mercy. “...for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matt 25.35-36). The righteous will be acknowledged and then welcomed to “the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world” (Matthew 25.34) because “just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25.40).
The wicked, on the other hand, those who neglected to feed the hungry and welcomed the stranger, those who failed to extend a hand to the sick and turned their gaze away from the marginalized members of society, will hear the terrible words: “You are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25.41). Those accursed will wonder what they did to deserve such
severe sentence. It may not be the things that they did as much as the things they did not. For God will tell them: “Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me” (Matthew 25.45).
Such dreadful words should make us “work for our salvation with fear and trembling”, as St. Paul admonished the Philippians (2.12), the Apostle’s first Christian community in Europe, a church which he dearly loved and cared for. These readings should jolt us from spiritual lethargy and complacency. These apocalyptic passages are not easy readings. In an effort not to make people anxious, preachers and teachers may, with good intentions, de-emphasize John’s visions of and Matthew’s verses on the apocalypse. It is worthwhile to remember, however, that the quotes from Matthew were spoken by Jesus Christ himself. It would be a disservice, to say the least, not to let people know that these words, inscribed in Sacred Scripture, are held to be “trustworthy and true” (Rev. 21.5) by Judeo-Christian faith traditions. I dare say that we who read and reflect on these passages are obligated to relay them to others, from one end of the earth to the other, as Mother Teresa of Calcutta did. With a modern twist, she pointed out that “At the end of our lives, we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made or how many great things we have done. We will be judged by “I was hungry and you gave me to eat. I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless and you took me in…” (1).
In a pluralistic society, such as the United States, it is a challenge to convey these Scriptural messages to those who do not subscribe to the Judeo-Christian tradition. It is hard enough to retain the name of God in our currency, keep the cross of Christ standing on our mountains, or display nativity scenes on Christmas. But can we, as recipients of the sacred word of God, afford to keep these essential apocalyptic prophecies under wraps? Can we snuggle comfortably behind the wisdom of St. Francis of Assisi: “Preach the gospel at all times -- If necessary, use words?" Or are we called, in this day and age, to step farther out and be courageous sages and fearless prophets?


Note:
1.Michael Collopy, Works of Love are Works of Peace: Mother Teresa of Calcutta and the Missionaries of Charity (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1996), p. 35.