Ash Wednesday Mass Homily
Not one, not two, but three times do we hear the word hypocrite mentioned by Jesus in today’s Gospel. Usually when one hears such a strong word as hypocrite repeated in the same way so many times, it is a good indication that Jesus is trying to tell us something about hypocrisy or what the problem is with hypocrites. Well, to really get at what Jesus means to tell us on this of all days, we have to find out what the word hypocrite really means. Maybe you already have an idea of what it means: maybe the definition you might be thinking of has to do with someone who says we should do one thing and then does the opposite. Well, let’s take a look at what the word meant in the time of Jesus. The word hypocrite is actually made up of two Greek words: hypo and krités. Hypo means under or below something or to be subject to something, while krités means judgment. In other words, a hypocrite literally means is someone who places or subjects himself to judgment, usually the judgment of others. If we look at it this way, the word hypocrite doesn’t really have such a bad meaning in the original Greek as it does today in English or Spanish. Even more, the Greek word for “actor” in the time of Jesus time was also hypocrite. Now, I don´t mean to say that the actors and thespians among us are hypocrites, not in the bad sense, but maybe in the Greek sense. When you look at it, doesn´t an actor also subject himself to a judgment of sorts? Is he not under the judgment of an audience? The audience will judge whether the actor did a part well, or if the actor managed to convince the audience of the role that he is playing—or he might not. And so the biblical hypocrite, in the sense used in the Gospel, is someone who actually seeks out the judgment of others, who puts himself out before others to be seen and judged—not for entertainment or for the sake of art—but for other reasons, for selfish reasons. The hypocrite that Jesus talks about also needs an audience and he puts out an act trying to convince people of something that he is not.
So, what is the connection between acting, Greek, hypocrites and Ash Wednesday? Well, we hear about those who would go around town calling attention themselves, seeking the judgment of others, and putting on a show through their good works. They give money to the poor and they want everyone to know about it, they pray hard and they want everyone to see them doing it, and they make sacrifices and they want everyone to feel sorry for them. In other words, sometimes we might be doing good things but our intentions might be misdirected. Helping the poor, praying and sacrifice are all good things but if they are done with the intention of my own personal greater glory, or only for some personal gain or reason rather than out of love of God, then we have a problem. The problem is that God sees right through my show, and if Jesus’ reaction tells us anything, the Lord won’t be too convinced by my acting either. The problem is that acts of charity, acts of holiness, and even acts of love mean nothing before the divine audience if they are not grounded in humility. At the end of the day, anyone can do something good, you don’t have to believe in God to do good things, but when you do good things for the love of God, then the world is affected, we are affected in a profound way. Humility reminds us that it isn’t just about us, it’s about something, or, rather, someone else. It is true that I am capable of doing glorious and awesome things—but so can God. Do I compete against the Lord, or do I work with the Lord, so that he might also share in my glories and accomplishments? After all, he has promised me that I will share in his glory and victory, the victory over death! (That’s what we will celebrate at Easter, at the end of Lent.) It is almost a paradox: the greatest things that we can do before God are to be done in a humble way. Greatness and humility: it’s a paradox for which God himself sets an example. Think about the Incarnation, how does God becomes one of us? In the infant child Jesus, not as some outlandish character. How does he conquer the sin of the world? With a piece of wood—the cross—rather than a 50 lb. battle axe.
And so, today we begin this period of Lent. For the next 40 days we are all called to turn again to the Lord, to reconcile and make right our relationship with God our Father in the spirit of humility. But why humility? Because we are humbled by greatest and perhaps strongest effect of our sinfulness—our own mortality. This Lenten season and this Mass reminds us of our mortality, and when we think about our own mortality, we are humbled by a fact. Our mortality is a scientific, philosophical, and bare fact: we will not be here forever, the fact is that one day I will die. This hard fact should come down like stack of bricks. Our mortality should make us uncomfortable just at the thought of it because it seems that there is not much that we can do about it. Our mortality is what grounds our humility. And so, the ashes that will be placed on our heads today will serve as a reminder of that very same mortality: some of you will hear “Remember that you are dust, and that to dust you shall return.” We were brought up from the earth and one day we will be placed back into the earth. We are not meant to be here in this world forever, but rather we are meant to be with God in his Kingdom for eternity. Once we come to terms with that, with our own mortality, then we can begin to see that the glory, the praises, and the honors of the world in a different light. As soon as I realize that at the end, the judgment of other is not what counts, but, rather, it is the judgment of God that matters most, then the way that I look at my own life begins to change. Like ashes, which are easily blown away by the wind, or which easily break apart and crumble if you touch them, so will the greatest of our accomplishments, honors, and personal glory fade away some day. These things are like dust, they are built up, but then are blown away. Temporary things, such as fame, wealth, power are not what will conquer our mortality, those things cannot beat death, instead, they attempt to cover it up, they try to make us not think about humility, or worse, to even believe that our mortality does not exist. The humility with which we enter Lent brings us back down to a humbling reality: remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. Without God’s love, without God’s mercy, without God, our lives, no matter how great, won’t amount anything more than dust at the end. Yet it is with God’s grace that our lives are not left in behind in the dust of mortality, but, rather, will shine in the light of the Resurrection. The grace that we need in order not to be left behind in the dust is found at this altar in the Eucharist, it is found in the sacrament of reconciliation, and it will be experienced through the penance and works that we do for the Lord in our own personal way over these forty days. Let us not lose the opportunity, starting today, to return to the Lord again, and to seek the gift which he came here to give: himself. The first step, though, starts with those ashes: the first step starts with our recognizing our limits as we approach in all humility to receive these ashes and be reminded of the very thing that humbles us. We don’t do this just for our own advantage, or so that others might see how good and holy we are, no, we do this for love of God, and maybe even for fear of God, because we hope in the promise of the Resurrection made through Jesus Christ. +
BELEN JESUIT PREPARATORY SCHOOL
500 SW 127th Avenue, Miami, FL 33184
phone: 305.223.8600 | fax: 305.227.2565 | email: webmaster@belenjesuit.org
500 SW 127th Avenue, Miami, FL 33184
phone: 305.223.8600 | fax: 305.227.2565 | email: webmaster@belenjesuit.org
Belen Jesuit Preparatory School was founded in 1854 in Havana, Cuba by Queen Isabel II of Spain. The task of educating students was assigned to the priests and brothers of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits), whose teaching tradition is synonymous with academic excellence and spiritual discipline. In 1961, the new political regime of Cuba confiscated the School property and expelled the Jesuit faculty. The School was re-established in Miami the same year, and over the next decade, continued to grow. Today, Belen Jesuit sits on a 30-acre site in western Dade County, only minutes away from downtown Miami.