Category: Ordinary Time Year A

On July 31, 1991, the celebrated operatic tenor Luciano Pavarotti gave a concert at Hyde Park, London.

The concert was free, and an audience of more than 100,000 packed the park.

The concert was to celebrate his 30 years in opera.

Dignitaries (including the then Prince and Princess of Wales), opera patrons, joined with the hoi polloi to celebrate the person and the voice that had enthralled them for many years.

And it rained.

For the ninety minutes of the concert, it rained.

I recall seeing a television interview with one of the concert-goers. The person being interviewed was dripping wet, and when being asked whether the rain spoiled the concert the person replied, “has it been raining?”

There was no rhetoric involved. The response was genuine. “I came for the voice!” the one being interviewed explained with a broad smile.

I imagine that as this person arrived home and dried themself, their clothing, and their shoes, the reality of the rain would become evident.

As the high B4 at the end of the aria Nessun Dora, began to fade catching a bus or a train becomes a reality.

Even for a tenor of Pavarotti’s genius, the breath runs out.

Today’s Gospel (Mt. 17: 1 – 9) is commonly known as the Transfiguration.

Each of the Synoptic Gospels recounts the occasion of Jesus’ encounter with the prophets Moses and Elijah “up a high mountain” (v. 1).

Jesus has taken with him Peter, James, and John.

“His (Jesus) face shone like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white.” (v.2).

Peter’s response is not unlike the Hyde Park concertgoer’s, namely, “I came for the voice.”

Peter exclaims, “It is good for us to be here; “

Then, Peter adds, “Let me make three dwellings” (v.4).

Peter’s desire is to stay on the mountaintop, this place of dazzling glory.

I suggest we read on further, for the mountain-top experience finishes at ground level with the cure of a boy possessed by a demon. (Mt. 17:14ff).

Each of the Gospels, immediately after the encounter on the mountain, has Jesus back at ground level and involved in what he came for, “Lord, have mercy on my son, he suffers terribly.” (v. 15).

The mountaintop is not where we live; we can visit on occasion.

The air is too rarified for regular breathing.

Ground level is where we breathe easily and where the mercy of God is being called for.

This Sunday’s Gospel is a theme familiar to most of house, ‘a treasure hunt.’

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.

So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out, separate the evil from the righteous, and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

‘Have you understood all this?’ They answered, ‘Yes.’ And he said to them, ‘Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.’” (Mt. 13: 44 – 45)

Once upon a time there was a tailor who lived in a small village on the outskirts of a large city. He made only a meagre living from his business.

One night he had a dream in which a voice said to him, ‘If you go to the city and dig behind a certain tree in the emperor’s castle, you will find a great treasure.’
The poor man placed great trust in dreams, so, the very next day, he set out for the city.

However, when he got to there, he found that the castle was guarded.
Unable to cross the bridge that led to the castle, he lived under the bridge for a while.

While there he became friends with the captain of the guard.

One day he shared his story with the captain.

He said, ‘I had a dream that if I got into the castle grounds, and went to a certain tree and dug there, I would find a treasure.’

The captain of the guard gave a hearty laugh. ‘You’re a very foolish man,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t believe that sort of thing. I have dreams myself. Once I had a dream that in a small village there lived a poor tailor, not unlike you. I dreamt that if I went to his house, and dug behind his stove, I would find a treasure that somebody had buried there many years ago. Of course, I dismissed it as foolishness.

The tailor thanked the captain of the guard, went back home, dug behind his own hearth, and found the treasure.

Schindler’s List was a screen adaptation of a novel by the Australian author Thomas Keneally. The original novel was published under the title Schindler’s’ Ark.

The book, and subsequent film, tell the story of the German industrialist, Oskar Schindler. The story centres around Schindler’s efforts to save over a thousand Polish Jews from the concentration camps during World War II.

Schindler was certainly no saint. He was a man riddled with contradictions. He certainly knew how to enjoy the so-called good life – cigars, drink, women.
He was a Catholic, though in name only.

He was also a member of the Nazi party, and his avowed aim was to end the war with ‘two trunks full of money’.

He exploited the Jews as a source of cheap labour.

However, anyone who has read the book and/or seen the film becomes aware that Schindler has about him a basic goodness, and in spite of his many lapses, he returns to this better side, his basic goodness.

As the war progressed, Schindler became appalled at the horrors of what was known as the “final solution.”

At considerable personal risk (he was twice arrested by the Nazi), he protected his workers from the death camps.

Oskar Schindler was no angel; he was a human being, an essentially good human being, even though seriously flawed.

I know, for myself, and perhaps you dare reflect, that part of the story’s attraction is that it tells mine!

I am no saint or angel; I understand I am a human being – essentially good yet with serious flaws.

Using the imagery from today’s Gospel ( Mt. 13: 24 – 33) I am indeed a landscape of healthy, ripening wheat, with a fair smattering of darnel.

While growing, to the untrained eye, wheat and darnel look very much alike; when ripe, wheat will appear brown, whereas darnel is black. The farmer needs to work with each growing healthily until they are fully ripe, and then their difference becomes apparent. Weeding too soon and too abruptly may be disastrous – what I or another thought darnel may have proved to be wheat.

Patience and leniency are needed towards ourselves and towards others.

Throughout the Gospel story, the darnel and wheat don’t seem to mind sharing the same plot of land.

What makes the angst between them is a judgement from the outside.

The author Alexander Solzhenitsyn, in his book, “The Gulag Archipelago” writes, “Even in hearts that are overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained. And in the best of all hearts, there remains an uprooted small corner of evil.” (From The Gulag Archipelago, Part 4, Chapter 1, “The Ascent”.)