Lamentations - Complaints

Homily for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The English words “lament” or “lamentation” are not words we use often in our modern-day conversation. Most people would be prone to using “complaint” or “complain” instead. Yet in terms of the Scriptures, a lament is a complaint. Three of the four readings that we have today are classified as lamentations. First, we hear from the prophet Jeremiah who complains about the fact that despite the fact that he is doing God’s will, he is the target of much complaining on the part of the royal court. Psalm 69 is also classified as a complaint or lament. In the reading from the Letter to the Romans, St. Paul speaks of the wound of sin which touches every human life. Finally, in the Gospel passage from St. Matthew, Jesus warns the disciples that they will experience fear which comes about because of their preaching.

Despite the fact that these readings cast a rather dour shadow, the Scriptures never simply offer a lament without moving on to a word of truth about God’s providential care for us. The simple, steady truth that is present in all of the readings for today is that God sees and knows us, and that God remains faithful even when fear presses in from every side.

In the first reading from the prophet Jeremiah, the prophet who most closely mirrors the experience that Jesus underwent throughout his active life is surrounded by whispering voices who seek to put an end to his preaching, even if it means putting him to death. The psalmist feels the sting of rejection. And Jesus tells his disciples that fear will be their constant companion. Yet in every reading, even the reading from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans, God’s presence is stronger than fear.

Jeremiah is not fearless. He hears the plotting, the mockery, the threats. He feels the loneliness of being faithful in a faithless moment. But he also knows something deeper: “The Lord is with me, like a mighty champion.” This resonates with the quiet fidelity of our life when we carry the Gospel message into workplaces and public life, where living the Gospel can feel costly. Jeremiah teaches us that courage is not the absence of fear; it is the refusal to let fear have the final word—those days when perseverance is not glamorous but simply faithful.

The psalmist cries out from a place of humiliation and misunderstanding. Most if not all of us have experienced humiliation and misunderstanding. People who try to live their faith in a culture that often misunderstands its consequences, also experience rejection and derision. But Psalm 69 reminds us: “The Lord hears the poor.” God’s attention is not abstract. It is personal, tender, and unwavering. This is the heart of divine fidelity—God remains with us even when others do not.

Paul speaks of the wound of sin that touches every human life. But he insists that grace is larger. Grace is not God’s response to our success; it is God’s response to our need. Grace is the power that lies beneath the daily rhythm of a life of conversion, a life of turning away from sin and returning to God. Grace reminds us and reassures us that holiness is not perfection; rather, it is a posture of openness to God’s action in our life. If sin has entered the world, Paul insists that God’s grace has also entered the world. Sin and death, the unholy twins, are met by grace and salvation, their counterpart. Paul’s message is simple: We are not defined by the world’s brokenness but by Christ’s gift.

Finally, the Gospel passage for today, does not pretend that is easy to be a disciple of Jesus. He  names the fears that often accompany a disciple: the fear of rejection, the fear of exposure, and the fear of losing control. Perhaps more potent than those fears is the fear of suffering. Jesus does not pretend that discipleship is easy. But then, those faithful words that appear at least 365 times in the Scriptures: “Do not be afraid.” This does not mean that we will not experience pain, rejection, exposure, etc. it simply means that in a love that does not let go. “Even the hairs of your head are counted.” Not because nothing bad will ever happen, but because we are held in a love that does not let go. Yes, God sees, God knows, and God cares. God’s love for us is enough; we need nothing more. We matter because we belong to God. Your life is a place where God’s courage can take root.

I would invite you today to think about one fear that you have, just one, that has been whispering in your heart. Name it before God, and then ask for the grace Jesus promises, the courage that comes from being known and loved. This is the courage that sustained Jeremiah, that moved the psalmist from complaint to praise. This is the courage that filled the life of Paul and made it possible for him to spread the Gospel wherever he went. It is the courage that strengthened the earliest disciples, and can be the strength that encourages us today. It is the courage that makes the Gospel visible in our world.

May the Lord who counts every hair on our heads gather our fears, steady our hearts, and make us bold in love, so that our lives—each in its own vocation—may proclaim His faithfulness without fear.