Third Sunday of Lent
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Homily
Our Lenten journey that will lead us towards Jerusalem for Easter continues. We are on the third leg, after the temptation in the desert and the vision on Mount Tabor. This Sunday’s liturgy opens with the narration of Moses’ religious experience on another mountain, Horeb. The book of Exodus tells us that Moses was leading his father-in-law’s flocks to pasture and that he journeyed all the way to Mount Horeb. He had fled from Egypt because his life was in danger (he had killed an Egyptian), and he had settled with the people of Jethro, a priest of Midian. There he was living an ordinary life, like everyone else’s. Perhaps the only thing that distinguished him was that he kept his distance from the Egyptians.
One day Moses came to the foot of Mount Horeb, and "There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush," a fire that burned but did not consume. That is what the Word of God is like: it burns our lives but does not consume them; it upsets but does not annihilate us. This very peculiar fire became a living, moving word that called Moses by name. In the endless desert, while alone with his flocks, the Egyptian Jew was neither alone nor abandoned. "Moses, Moses," he heard someone calling. When he answered the voice continued: "Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground." Moses not only took off his sandals, but he covered his face, "for he was afraid to look at God." No one can stand before God with impunity. Still today, in the East, people must remove their shoes before entering a holy place - in particular, mosques and the areas close to the altar in Coptic Churches in Egypt.
Taking off our shoes reminds us of our smallness and our poverty. Let us kneel before the one who is greater than us, infinitely greater, in strength but especially in love! The words that God spoke to Moses burned with a love caused by outrage at Israel’s oppression, "I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them." Moses finds himself in front of a God who is not distant and unmoved, but a bush of love, a fire that burns to liberate his people. In front of this flame, we really do need to cover our faces, which are often cold and distant. The closeness of this fire transforms us and makes us witnesses of its love. Moses was afraid of going back to Egypt and especially of showing himself to the people. With what authority could he ask them to listen to him? He asks the Lord: "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" It is a wise question, imbued with an awareness of his fragility and inadequacy. Indeed the strength of the disciple does not come from his own abilities, but from the nearness of the Lord: "I will be with you." Moses will not have to go and liberate his brothers and sisters with the words that his vacillating heart can speak; he will have the words of God. "I-AM has sent you." The definition that God gives of himself: "I AM WHO I AM," is not compelled, it is historical: the name of God (God’s self) will always accompany Moses and his people.
There on Mount Horeb, God reveals his choice of Israel and all men and women, "I will be with you," says the Lord. And he seems to add to every man and woman: "I will be the fire that warms you and gives you light, like the cloud that led Israel through the desert. I will be your liberty and your future, just as I gave the promised land to Israel. But that is not all - I will raise my tent among you and I will establish myself with you forever. I will be the Emmanuel, the God-with-us." The definition that God gave of himself on Horeb reaches its culmination in Jesus: Jesus is the definitive burning bush, ("I came to bring fire to the earth, and I wish it were already kindled" (Lk 12:49). Jesus is the one who told the disciples: "I am with you always, to the end of ages" (Mt 28:20).
The Gospel passage we read this Third Sunday of Lent shows us Jesus as a gardener who intercedes with the owner in order to save a fig tree. This tree has not produced any fruit for several years and its owner is indignant and wants to cut it down. The gardener insists that the owner wait a little more. The plea reaches the owner and convinces him. With this parable, Jesus is describing the story of our lives, which are often fruitless. But they are saved by Jesus’ mercy because Jesus has become the companion, the friend, and the protector of each one of us. But he asks that we let our hearts be touched. Lent is one of the special, favourable times that is given to us for our conversion. God is not intent on sending us misfortune in order to set us straight (a distorted conception of God that is all too common). The examples given by Jesus are very clear about this, and the psalmist often says: "The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love" (Ps 103:8). Nonetheless, the call to the urgency of conversion is serious, not because of God’s vengeance, but in order to avoid doing evil. "So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall" (l Cor 10:12).
Prayer is the heart of the life of the Community of Sant'Egidio and is its absolute priority. At the end of the day, every the Community of Sant'Egidio, large or small, gathers around the Lord to listen to his Word. The Word of God and the prayer are, in fact, the very basis of the whole life of the Community. The disciples cannot do other than remain at the feet of Jesus, as did Mary of Bethany, to receive his love and learn his ways (Phil. 2:5).
So every evening, when the Community returns to the feet of the Lord, it repeats the words of the anonymous disciple: " Lord, teach us how to pray". Jesus, Master of prayer, continues to answer: "When you pray, say: Abba, Father". It is not a simple exhortation, it is much more. With these words Jesus lets the disciples participate in his own relationship with the Father. Therefore in prayer, the fact of being children of the Father who is in heaven, comes before the words we may say. So praying is above all a way of being! That is to say we are children who turn with faith to the Father, certain that they will be heard.
Jesus teaches us to call God "Our Father". And not simply "Father" or "My Father". Disciples, even when they pray on their own, are never isolated nor they are orphans; they are always members of the Lord's family.
In praying together, beside the mystery of being children of God, there is also the mystery of brotherhood, as the Father of the Church said: "You cannot have God as father without having the church as mother". When praying together, the Holy Spirit assembles the disciples in the upper room together with Mary, the Lord's mother, so that they may direct their gaze towards the Lord's face and learn from Him the secret of his Heart.
The Communities of Sant'Egidio all over the world gather in the various places of prayer and lay before the Lord the hopes and the sufferings of the tired, exhausted crowds of which the Gospel speaks ( Mat. 9: 3-7 ), In these ancient crowds we can see the huge masses of the modern cities, the millions of refugees who continue to flee their countries, the poor, relegated to the very fringe of life and all those who are waiting for someone to take care of them. Praying together includes the cry, the invocation, the aspiration, the desire for peace, the healing and salvation of the men and women of this world. Prayer is never in vain; it rises ceaselessly to the Lord so that anguish is turned into hope, tears into joy, despair into happiness, and solitude into communion. May the Kingdom of God come soon among people!
For the sick, in memory of the dead, for peace
