When Thomas Massaro, S.J., hears underdog stories, he recognizes the various ways they parallel biblical narratives. “I’m a moral theologian, so I pretty much have to do this,” he says. “It’s part of my task to reach for some moral implications.” Those implications? If you’re a preacher, don’t moralize at the pulpit—especially when you are preaching on the first Sunday after the 2024 United States presidential election. Instead, adopt the perspective of the underdog, and humbly strive to build bridges between people who come to Church with opposing viewpoints.
In this episode of “Preach” for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B, Tom joins Ricardo da Silva, S.J. to discuss how preachers can avoid polarizing issues while keeping an eye toward social justice.
Tom is a scholar of Catholic social thought. He holds the Laurence J. McGinley Endowed Chair in Religion and Society at Fordham University in New York. His most recent books include Pope Francis as Moral Leader (Paulist Press, 2023), and Mercy in Action: The Social Teachings of Pope Francis (Rowman & Littlefield, 2018).
Scripture Readings for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B
First Reading: 1 Kgs 17:10-16
Responsorial Psalm: Ps 146:7, 8-9, 9-10
Second Reading: Heb 9:24-28
Gospel: Mk 12:38-44 or 12:41-44
You can find the full text of the readings here.
Homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B, by Fr. Tom Massaro
Americans love an underdog. Individually and collectively as a culture, we invariably admire and invest ourselves in those characters and protagonists who, in the face of overwhelming obstacles, overcome barriers to success and make their mark in some outstanding way. That sports team that beats long odds to win a championship, the artist or film maker who works her way from obscurity to hone innate talents and gain great acclaim, even beleaguered political leaders who pull off a comeback to rise to the top—OK, I am as tired as you probably are of contentious electoral politics, so let’s stick with non-political examples for the remainder of this homily. In fact, let me reach back for the opposite: a beloved cartoon character, the original underdog to my thinking, rather than any candidate for public office, OK?
This correlate of the term “underdog” I have in mind may be lost on anyone younger than us late Baby Boomers, since it was my age cohort that watched (I sure did!) the weekly 1960s animated TV program “The Adventures of Underdog.” Ah, the old Saturday morning cartoons routine! Younger generations may know this same jaunty character from the 2007 animated film adaptation, featuring the same signature refrain of this stylized hero, who announced himself with the rhyming couplet: “There’s no need to fear, Underdog is here.” The remake also featured the same transformation of the mild-mannered canine Shoeshine Boy, having swallowed his super energy pill, into the unlikely alter ego and comic everyman, ever eager to rescue his romantic interest Sweet Polly Purebread from the evil plotting of such villains as Simon Bar Sinister. Like any self-respecting superhero, the anthropomorphized talking dog in question was decked out in red tights and a blue cape and every week stumbled his way into somehow saving civilization, or at least his home town of Capitol City (as well as Polly) from the clutches of dastardly bad guys. That was the main point—an unlikely hero with a limited range of tools at his disposal parlayed all the cleverness and resourcefulness he could muster into world-saving exploits. Kids my age at the time ate it up—we who were still about four feet tall identified readily with this appealing diminutive cartoon character, whose escapades often paralleled our own imagined adventures to overcome bullies and other daunting obstacles. Plus, he was a really adorable little dog. Depicting cute golden beagles has long been a crowd-pleasing formula for marketing success in any corner of the entertainment industry.
While the Bible features only the occasional dog, mostly in unflattering cameo roles, our scriptures do contain a surprisingly large number of underdogs of the metaphorical variety. These characters are generally hard-pressed people who come to be championed by divine power in some definitive way, often with pointed instructional value for us all. We see two exemplary women in today’s readings who display the key positive qualities of an underdog. Each is highly worthy of our admiration. Indeed, in the entire arc of the overall biblical narratives, running from the formation of the people of ancient Israel in the Old Testament to the initial sprouting of the oft-persecuted early Christian communities in the New Testament, the two women we hear about in our first and Gospel readings today emerge as outstanding exemplars of human figures deserving of God’s favor and protection.
The widow of Zarephath is at the point of utter despair when the prophet Elijah encounters her on his sojourn in a time of great famine in the land. Her generosity to him, despite her own dire life-threatening poverty, is rewarded a hundredfold and more, saving her life and that of her son. To be a widow in ancient society was to live a precarious life, and God (acting through the promise of Elijah) intervened miraculously to safeguard this good woman, who models for us the biblical virtue of hospitality. Another impressive model of generosity emerges in today’s passage from the Gospel of Mark, the origin of the familiar phrase “the widow’s mite.” (that is, M-I-T-E as in a small bronze coin, not the small insect). What a shame that the biblical text never provides this bighearted woman with an actual name—the same dishonor applies to the widow of Zarephath as well as so many tremendous women in scripture. Nevertheless, Jesus not only praises effusively this un-named poor elder widow, but highlights the sharp contrast between her small but self-sacrificial gift to the holy temple and the arrogant behavior of the rich and powerful hypocrites in the preceding verses. Both these sketches appeal powerfully to our sense of justice and proper dessert.
This pattern, whereby God lifts up the lowly and humbles the haughty, presents a noteworthy overlap between the proclivities of American culture and the biblical worldview. The Magnificat prayer of the Blessed Virgin Mary has this much in common with the rags-to-riches stories of Horatio Alger and even the American film classic we all know, Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life,” where the appealingly honest character George Bailey in the end gets the best of the greedy, autocratic Mr. Potter. In each case, those who seem to be losers or “small fries” in worldly estimation emerge as the ultimate winners, favored by God above and often aided by divine intervention. That is how grace works—it is an unmerited gift from God that often confounds worldly wisdom and defies all humanly constructed categories. This promise is a sure source of hope for us all.
Scripture scholars have dubbed this theme “the Great Reversal,” highlighting how the bible so often portrays God as constantly overturning expectations, always working wonders in the world if only we have eyes to see the new things unfolding in the universe for the benefit of the humble and meek. Whether we focus on the context of the geopolitics of the Near East in the time of Elijah or the hardships imposed by the Roman Empire and endured by the early Christians, these themes form the veritable backdrop of our earliest faith traditions.
The moral lessons on display here are striking, inviting us to view God’s Creation in distinctive ways and then to act boldly upon this portrayal of the universe. Mary’s Magnificat in Luke chapter 1 may indeed be the best place to start, with its ode to God’s generous dealings with the humble and pure of heart. The teachings of Jesus in the Beatitudes underline these same themes—the Great Reversal at play in both our external behaviors and internal virtues. If the entire world is an arena for God to display indescribable graces and mercies, then we must play our part to treat others in need as our divine Father has dealt with us. How we interact with the homeless, how we welcome refugees, how we dialogue with those who might have voted for political candidates we dislike—all these decisions are deeply influenced by the models of positive behavior that we find in today’s readings, by these biblical underdogs who long ago responded to God’s gracious mercy to the lowly by showing compassion in their daily existence.
