A Reflection for Thursday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time
The Lord said: “Woe to you who build the memorials of the prophets whom your fathers killed. Consequently, you bear witness and give consent to the deeds of your ancestors, for they killed them and you do the building. Therefore, the wisdom of God said, ‘I will send to them prophets and Apostles; some of them they will kill and persecute’ in order that this generation might be charged with the blood of all the prophets shed since the foundation of the world, from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah who died between the altar and the temple building. Yes, I tell you, this generation will be charged with their blood! Woe to you, scholars of the law! You have taken away the key of knowledge. You yourselves did not enter and you stopped those trying to enter.” (Lk 11:47-54)
I had the opportunity recently to attend the 100th anniversary gala for my college newspaper, where I had served as editor 100 26 years ago. Among the speakers one evening was an alum from the late 1960s who described a thrilling and yet confusing time to be a young college journalist at a Catholic school. The Vietnam War was running at full tilt; the church was implementing the reforms of the Second Vatican Council; sexual and societal norms were being challenged right and left; the Civil Rights movement was challenging the complacency of the student body.
It was also a time of assassinations: Medgar Evars (1963); John F. Kennedy (1963); Malcom X (1965); Martin Luther King Jr. (1968); Robert F. Kennedy (1968) and more. Our speaker described the anguish and confusion he felt at the time as one after another of some of our leading voices for change and justice were killed.
We remember these names today because of their impact on history, but we are also constantly reminded of them because we do exactly what Jesus calls out the Israelites for: We “build the memorials of the prophets whom your fathers killed.” In New York City alone, I can pick up the M60 bus on MLK Boulevard and take it across the RFK Bridge; it would eventually take me to the local airport not named after JFK. We have dedicated landmarks, monuments, schools and even (for a time) sports complexes in honor of those who were slain.
As well we should: They are national heroes, and the perpetuation of their legacy is crucial to our self-understanding and societal health and growth. But are we teaching their message, what they stood for, what they advocated, or are we just paying homage to a statue, a monument, so we can forget what they said and did? It is a danger Dorothy Day recognized when she was described as a “living saint.” To be so canonized so quickly and glibly, Day commented, meant you were not taken seriously. We ask saints to listen to our cry; do we remember to listen to their message?
We ask saints to listen to our cry; do we remember to listen to their message?
And note that as Dorothy Day’s cause for sainthood is proceeding, there are those who want to whitewash her legacy even now: Some prominent Catholics have suggested she should be the patron saint of women who regret having had abortions. What of her prophetic work with the downtrodden, her voluntary poverty, her contempt for capitalism, her pacifism or her critiques of bourgeois Christianity? Or are we unable to accept that those are what made Dorothy Day holy?
To read the teachings of the prophets of whom Jesus speaks in today’s Gospel is to meet some real fire-breathers too, voices condemning the behavior of the rich and powerful in Israelite society, and demanding justice for the widow, the stranger and the orphan. Amos, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Micah: Their words and actions sound a lot more like Martin Luther King Jr. or Dorothy Day than many of our teachers and leaders would admit. To do so would be to admit some uncomfortable truths about the structure of our society in terms of economic, racial and generational justice.
And here we find Jesus’ main objection to memorials and statues in honor of the prophets, in the last line of our passage from Luke. “You have taken away the key of knowledge. You yourselves did not enter and you stopped those trying to enter.” It is a warning with special significance for journalists and teachers. If we build the monuments but don’t teach the message—the radical message of the prophets ancient and new, the radical message of Jesus—we don’t perpetuate any legacy; we lock away the truth and remove the significance of the sign, and we “give consent to the deeds of our ancestors.”
