Homily for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, A

Paul Simon’s, “American Tune,” is a lament for all whose dreams have been shattered, for all who have lost their way.  

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Transcript

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew. 

At that time, Jesus exclaimed, "I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, you have revealed them to little ones. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him."

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves, for my yoke is easy and my burden light." 

The Gospel of the Lord. 

Paul Simon's, "American Tune," is a lament for all whose dreams have been shattered, for all who have lost their way. 

"Many's the time I've been mistaken And many times confused Yes, and I've often felt forsaken And certainly misused Oh, but I'm all right, I'm all right Just weary to my bones Still don't expect to be bright and born vivant So far away from home So far away from home."

If this were a 21st century Christian anthem, this would be the point where God's name is invoked and praised. Paul Simon, however, does something much more subtle. He does not bring God into the lyrical equation, but his use of the Palm Sunday hymn tune, "O Sacred Head Surrounded," could be interpreted as a metaphor for the presence of God. "Oh, but I'm all right. I'm all right." God's love surrounds us. 

On Palm Sunday, we sing of the one who is "meek and humble of heart," the Messiah who rides into Jerusalem, in the words of the prophet Zechariah, "meek and riding on an ass on a colt, the foal of an ass." The words meek and weak both flow into English from old Germanic and Norse roots. They rhyme, and many would consider them to mean the same thing, lacking in power. Or at least that being meek is the demeanor of those who are weak. Lacking power, one has no choice but to be quiet, gentle, easily imposed on, submissive. Yet our faith proclaims meekness to be a virtue. Indeed, it is a strength that is characteristic of God's own self. Because all power belongs to God, God can only enter our lives in meekness, deliberately setting aside all pretensions of power. If God did not do this, God would overwhelm us. 

God's relationship to us is a bit like parents letting kids be kids, or an elephant tiptoeing through tulips. Indeed, the best image of God's meekness can be found simply by looking into the heavens. The sun in the sky is our great blessing precisely because it maintains its life-giving distance. Meekness is not surrender. It is a strength that does not need to scream. 

"Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Jesus is rather expansive in his words here. "All you who are weary." No one is left out. All who have felt forsaken, all you whose dreams have been shattered, all you who have been driven to your knees, all you who sing an American tune, it's a universal invitation to anyone who's longing to get some rest. J

esus' words find an echo in Emma Lazarus' quintessential American poem, "The New Colossus" on the Statue of Liberty. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free." At the beginning of creation, the breath of God swept over the waters and God called all life into being. There is evening and there is morning. God blesses all of creation, day and night, land and sea, plant and animal, animal and human. God sees the whole world, and that world is good, because that's who God is, an overflowing fountain of blessing. 

When God called Abram, God said, "I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing... In you, all the families of the earth shall be blessed." God doesn't bless Abram and his descendants to the exclusion of others, but for the benefit of others. You can't claim God's blessing for yourself, your race, your culture, your religion, and leave out, "and in you, all the families of the earth shall be blessed."

 We Americans pride ourselves on being self-reliant. We value rugged individualism. We have a whole day dedicated to independence. We like to imagine that we are free to make our own choices. But this is just an illusion. As Bob Dylan reminds us, "You're going to have to serve somebody. It may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but you're going to have to serve somebody." 

"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart." The word religion may have come from the Latin religare, which means to tie fast or to bind. Some of the religious leaders of Jesus' day, as we hear in Matthew 23, verse 4, "tie up heavy burdens hard to bear and lay them on the shoulders of others, but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them." Notice Jesus doesn't offer to take away our burdens. He offers to replace the heavy burden of this world with the light burden of living his life of loving service. In the words of the psalmist, the Lord lifts up all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down. 

If we accept Jesus' invitation to take his yoke upon us and bind ourselves to him, Jesus promises that he will bind himself to us. I've got the other side. You will find rest for yourselves, for my yoke is easy and my burden light. When we yoke ourselves to the one who is humble of heart, we hear his heartbeat. Father Greg Boyle often quotes Mother Teresa, who reminds us, "we've forgotten that we belong to each other." God's love bridges the gap between us so we can walk each other home.