Reflection - Sarcasm

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101518.cfm
Galatians 4:22-24, 26-27, 31-5:1
Luke 11:29-32

We’ve heard this gospel passage before. Details may have been slightly different, but the audience was pretty much the same — it’s the Jewish elders, the Scribes and Pharisees all over again. The obstinance of those in charge must have been a great source of frustration for Jesus. I would even be willing to bet that in the ideal divine plan these were the people that Jesus was supposed to have been working with. Fortunately, throughout history, we find that God works with what he’s got, or what we’re willing to give him. Nevertheless, I’m always surprised, or maybe I should say disappointed, that we never hear Jesus resorting to sarcasm. I know! I know! It just would’t have fit Jesus’ character to be sarcastic. Still — Lord forgive me — I could‘t help but imagine what an appropriate, sarcastic reply would have sounded like when these people demanded that they be given a sign.

So, you think you need a sign.

Hmmm? Let’s see?

How about when John baptized me at the Jordan? O! Yeh! I forgot! You didn’t approve of John because he smelled like a wet camel and called you a ‘brood of vipers.’

How about the guy in Caper’na-um? The one who was possessed by the unclean spirit? Surely that was a good sign. Oops! Now I remember. You weren’t there when that happened. But maybe you heard about it from the common people. Sorry! Foolish thought! You don’t listen to the vulgar and unwashed, do you?

Well, I can think of three incidents where you were witnesses. Maybe these would qualify in your microscopic world as signs.

Just a few months ago . . . There was this leper who wanted to be cured. At least some of you should recall that incident because I sent him to you so you could verify that he was clean. O yeh! That’s right! You dismissed him quickly because you were afraid of being contaminated.

Well, how about that paralyzed guy that was lowered through the roof by his friends. I know you were there for that one! Were you too busy playing with your tassels and intellectually limiting forgiveness to pay attention to his cure? Alright. So paralysis isn’t good enough. True! He could have been faking it; but he faked it good enough to fool you all these years.

But . . . You were also there in the synagogue when I cured the man with the withered hand. That certainly would have been hard to fake. Wouldn’t his healing qualify as a sign? Yeah! Yeah! I know! The Sabbath just isn’t a good day for healing. We’re only supposed to heal on the fifth day after the new moon when it falls on Friday the thirteenth.

OK! OK! Let’s try something else.

You may not admit it, but I saw some of you standing at the back of that crowd by the Sea of Galilee. Too disgusted and dusty to remember? Well, I know the bread and fish made it back where you were because I saw you stuffing your faces. So? What did you think? Do you really believe that Panera’s or LaBaguette could respond to an order that fast? Or that I just asked the fish to jump out of the sea for a quick lunch?

Anyway, what kind of sign did you expect?

The Scribes, the Pharisees and the other Jewish elders were not alone in looking for signs; so did the rest of the population. Furthermore, the gospel texts suggest that the common folk didn’t have too much trouble reading the words and actions of Jesus as signs of his intimacy with God. But what about us? We would probably like to be bowled over by extravagant signs of God’s presence. Maybe a little cancer cure here, a lottery jackpot windfall there, a winning bridge hand now and a apparition of angels later.

We look for signs. I dare say, we need signs. But what kind of signs do we look for? What kind of signs do we expect? If we truly ask these questions as persons coming with a core of belief, then signs of God’s presence and love are everywhere. From morning sunrise or morning fog, from summer warmth to winter’s bitter cold, from small and simple blessings to the delay that made us late for that catastrophic road accident, from a grandchild’s first words to a grandchild’s painful deformity — all things work to the good for those who love Him. I’m much more comfortable with the very real sarcastic scoffing of a population without faith than I am with the imaginary sarcasm of Jesus.