Urban Hermit at 3156 Doyle Street, Toledo, OH 43608-2006 US - Year C, 12th through 22nd
| Year C, 12th through 22nd |
12th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Who Am I? Zechariah 12:10-11, 13:1—I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and petition. Psalm 63: My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord my God. Galatians 3:26-29—Through faith you are all children of God in Christ Jesus… neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, not male and female. Luke 9:18-24—If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. Jesus asks the disciples, "Who do you say that I am?" and Peter answers, firmly stating the identity of Jesus as the Christ. Then Jesus the Messiah goes on to say who we are if we are to be followers of the Messiah: we must be bearers of the daily cross. " If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it," he says. Am I a disciple of Jesus? It's easy to tell from looking at these Scriptures. Do I take up my cross daily? Do I give up my life for Jesus' sake? In the day-to-day, nitty-gritty choices I make, do I try to save myself or do I give? This morning at breakfast I sat outside the restaurant in a rocking chair, enjoying the brisk June air and singing along with the Golden Oldie playing over the sound system, waiting for my friends to gather. Some people came by and commented on my joy (how sad that someone's joy is noteworthy!) In fact, my joy is a choice. This morning I could have been grouching about having to wait, could have been sad about the chores of the day, could have been angry about the state of the Church or the country or the world, but I chose to thank God for the beauty of the day. It seems like such a small, inconsequential thing; nevertheless, it is a typical moment-by-moment choice that makes my life what it is. I am not, as Paul puts it, Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female. I'm not American or foreigner, rich or poor, educated or uneducated. I'm a follower of Christ. It's not always easy to act like it. Sometimes it's easier to act like my identity is something else. Yet the fact remains: In Christ there has been poured out on me a "spirit of grace and petition" that strengthens me for the carrying of my cross. I need only respond to it. 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Hands on the Plow 1 Kings 19:16b, 19-21—Elisha left and followed Elijah as his attendant. Psalm 16: You are my inheritance, O Lord! Galatians 5:1, 13-18—Stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery; you were called for freedom, so serve one another through love. Luke 9:51-62—No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God. It is fitting that these readings fall so close to the end of the pastoral year in parishes in the United States. As new Pastors prepare to begin their terms, as new Pastoral Associates and Directors of Religious Education and Youth Ministers look to coming on board in our parishes, the Word of the day stands as a model and a warning. The lessons are clear. Like Elisha, we are to follow regardless of the cost. We are to leave behind the oxen and the fields, disposing of it in charity, and follow. And we are to follow as attendants, that is, as apprentices. When we are called as prophets, we are called as servants, not as masters. Paul also is full of advice for us. We are to stand firm. We are not to submit to slavery. We are to serve one another through love. We are to live by the Spirit. Even more, we are to follow where there is no place to rest. We are to follow in spite of the needs of our families. We are to follow without looking back to what we had before, without regrets. This is indeed radical discipleship. Like Jesus, we are to set our eyes on Jerusalem. In our day we are prone to ignore the call to serve; even more commonly, we accept the call to serve but hold back pieces of ourselves. We take the pastoral position but ensure that we live away from the parish. We take the pastoral position but act like hirelings, always watching the clock and the calendar. We say we’re trying to stay fresh, to prevent burnout, but instead we hold ourselves aloof from the flock we’re sent to love. We are prone to ignore the cry of the poor. We are prone to ignore our responsibility to conserve natural resources. We are prone to devalue the young and the old. We are prone to spend our time and energy on passing fads. The Gospel mandates us to follow Jesus in radical discipleship. The very roots of our being are planted in him; the sustenance of our daily lives comes through him. Whenever we stop to consider the cost to us, or whenever we regret what we have given up, we fail to serve through love. Each of us is called today, as always. We are challenged to answer the call with every ounce of our being, totally and completely. I’m reminded of that old story of the man who falls over the edge of the cliff, grabbing the end of a small branch, holding on for dear life. A voice calls to him, “Let go, and I’ll catch you.” “Who are you?” the man asks. “This is God,” comes the reply. “Trust me. Let go, and I’ll catch you.” The man thinks for a minute, then calls out, “Is there anybody else up there?” That’s what we do: we hold out for somebody else, failing to trust that all will be well when we follow the call totally and completely. 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Go! Isaiah 66:10-14c—As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you, says the Lord. Psalm 66: Let all the earth cry out to God with joy! Galatians 6:14-18—The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Luke 10:1-12, 17-20—The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few. Dear People of God, Luke’s story today details Jesus’ lessons to the first disciples, lessons which are still valid for us, calling us to our own discipleship. Go, Jesus says, like laborers in the fields: hot, sweaty, dirty, dusty, long rows, hoeing one beet at a time, with a pittance for pay at the end of a dawn-to-dusk day. Go, Jesus says, like lambs among wolves: defenseless, without money, without a purse, without a lunch bag, without sandals to protect your feet. Go, Jesus says, straight to your task, not stopping to speak with anyone but focused on the business of spreading the good news. We get so very comfortable. We have freedom, security, employment, education, prosperity. We go to our comfortable jobs, live in our comfortable homes, attend our comfortable churches. We volunteer when it suits us, at projects that suit us. We construct, piece by piece, day by day, our very nice, comfortable lives. So it’s easy to ignore the call of today’s Gospel. There’s not much comfortable about radical discipleship. We must put God first, without distraction. We must simplify our lives so we are ready to go when it’s time. We must work hard at spreading the Gospel. At the same time, the rewards are sure: an abundant harvest for the kingdom and our names written in heaven. Let’s go! 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Go and Do Likewise Deuteronomy 30:10-14—This command that I enjoin on you today is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out. Psalm 69: Turn to the Lord in your need, and you will live. Colossians 1:15-20—In Christ Jesus all things hold together. Luke 10:25-37—Go and do likewise. In today’s Gospel, Jesus relates the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a story of clergy scandal if there ever was one. The priest and the Levite pass by the victim at the roadside, walking past his need and his suffering. They have their holy, priestly duties to tend to, and they do not want to render themselves unclean for the task of offering sacrifice. And who is it who ministers to the victim in need? Sacrifice and sin offering, however, are not the gifts God wants. It is the gift of a pure heart, full of compassion and dedicated to service. Those from whom this gift might be expected, those ordained to the service of God, fail. The one who is not ordained, the one who is shunned and despised, is the one who gives from a heart full of compassion. It was a source of scandal for the Jews of Jesus’ time. Jesus’ continued exposure of the failure of the Jewish leadership to serve God led to his execution. He was altogether too much for them. They wanted him silenced, and they tried to do it with authority and violence. Things have not changed. A source of scandal, according to the Vatican, is Sister Joan Chittister’s scheduled appearance three years ago at the International Women’s Ordination Conference. Indeed. A source of scandal, according to some bishops, is the reasoned, conscientious vote of Democratic legislators who struggle to surpass the wisdom of Solomon in their deliberations on law and morality and justice. Indeed. A source of scandal, according to some priests, is the attempt of lay people to discuss women's ordination. Indeed. We still have a church leadership that is unable and unwilling to treat its members with respect. We still have a church leadership that tries to silence our prophets. It would seem that the scandal lies with the Vatican, not with Sister Joan or politicians or women eager to serve God through the Church. Jesus’ admonition, “Go and do likewise,” appears to have fallen on deaf ears in Rome. Let us listen. Let us take heart, and continue to serve the people of God in their need, in spite of the failure of our Church’s ordained leaders. [Here’s the statement made by the Benedictines about this attempted silencing of Sister Chittister: Friday, July 6, 2001. PRESS STATEMENT OF SISTER CHRISTINE VLADIMIROFF, OSB, PRIORESS BENEDICTINE SISTERS OF ERIE REGARDING DELIBERATIONS WITH THE VATICAN For the past three months I have been in deliberations with Vatican officials regarding Sister Joan Chittister's participation in the Women's Ordination Worldwide 1st International Conference, June 29 to July 1, Dublin, Ireland. The Vatican believed her participation to be in opposition to its decree (Ordinatio Sacerdotalis) that priestly ordination will never be conferred on women in the Roman Catholic Church and must, therefore, never be discussed. The Vatican ordered me to prohibit Sister Joan from attending the conference where she is a main speaker. I spent many hours discussing the issue with Sister Joan and traveled to Rome to dialogue about it with Vatican officials. I sought the advice of bishops, religious leaders, canonists, other prioresses, and most importantly, my religious community, the Benedictine Sisters of Erie. I spent many hours in communal and personal prayer on this matter. After much deliberation and prayer, I concluded that I would decline the request of the Vatican. It is out of the Benedictine, or monastic tradition of obedience that I formed my decision. There is a fundamental difference in the understanding of obedience in the monastic tradition and that which is being used by the Vatican. Benedictine authority and obedience are achieved through dialogue between a member and her prioress in a spirit of co-responsibility, always in the context of community. The role of the prioress in a Benedictine community is to be a center of unity and a guide in the seeking of God. While lived in community, it is the individual member who does the seeking. Sister Joan Chittister, who has lived the monastic life with faith and fidelity for fifty years, must make her own decision based on her sense of Church, her monastic profession and her own personal integrity. I do not see her participation in this conference as "a source of scandal to the faithful" as the Vatican alleges. I think the faithful can be scandalized when honest attempts to discuss questions of import to the church are forbidden. I presented my decision to the community and read the letter that I was sending to the Vatican. 127 members of 128 eligible members of the Benedictine Sisters of Erie freely supported this decision by each signing her name to that letter. Sister Joan addressed the Dublin conference with the blessing of the Benedictine Sisters of Erie. My decision should in no way indicate a lack of communion with the Church. I am trying to remain faithful to the role of the 1500-year-old monastic tradition within the larger church. We trace our tradition to the early Desert Fathers and Mothers of the 4th century who lived on the margin of society in order to be a prayerful and questioning presence to both church and society. Benedictine communities of men and women were never intended to be part of the hierarchical or clerical status of the Church, but to stand apart from this structure and offer a different voice. Only if we do this can we live the gift that we are for the Church. Only in this way can we be faithful to the gift that women have within the Church. © Benedictine Sisters of Erie, PA, 2001 Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Service Genesis 18:1-10a: Sarah and Abraham prepared their best foods for the visitors. Psalm 15: The one who does justice will live in the presence of the Lord. Colossians 1:24-28: That we may present everyone perfect in Christ. Luke 10:38-42: Martha tended to serving the food while Mary tended to serving Christ. Our readings today hold up several examples of ministry. We see Abraham hustling about to order the food prepared for three guests who appear in the heat of the day. We see Sarah baking the bread and cooking the beef for them. We see Paul teaching that Christ is in each person, growing to perfection. We see Martha, busy about household tasks and focused on preparing for the meal. We see Mary, intent on the words of the rabbi who has come to visit. All but one of these models of ministry is an active ministry; it is only the picture of Mary at Jesus’ feet that is a contemplative one. It is not by accident that Luke juxtaposes the story of Mary and Martha with the parable of the Good Samaritan, last week’s Gospel. Both Mary and the Samaritan step outside the conventions of their society to minister, whereas Abraham, Sarah, Paul, and Martha minister within the conventions of their societies. So, ministry of action or ministry of contemplation, ministry in the tradition or ministry of the prophet, all forms are open to us as we answer the call to service. Whatever our ministry at the moment, it may or may not be carried out in the institutional church. Furthermore, we are called to "be" of service as well as to "do" service. I am reminded of a friend who opened his home to a family in need of short-term emergency housing, certainly a ministry of action and a significant practice of hospitality. I knew that he went much further, though, when he talked about it later and commented that the hardest part was listening to the dysfunctional thought patterns that explained how the family came to be needy in the first place. Through a ministry of presence he served by listening and found it much more difficult to find Christ in them than to serve Christ through them. In short, he found it easier to give up his home to the poor for a few weeks than to give up his time to walk with them. That he actually did both of those ministries shows how serving the people of God can open us to an ever-deepening faith of our own. As we go about this week, let's take a look at how we serve and ask if there are ways we can broaden and deepen our practice. Let's find one ministry that we normally don't practice, and do it—or be it.
17th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): God Is Answering
Genesis 18:20-32—God will spare the city for ten innocents, but Abraham is unable to gather even ten.
Psalm 138: Lord, on the day I called for help, you answered me.
Colossians 2:12-14—Buried with Christ in baptism, so are we also raised with him.
Luke 11:1-13—God will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask.
A minyan is the quorum required for communal worship in the Jewish community, the minimum number needed under the law. That’s the number God said was enough to spare the city for. Abraham could not find even ten adults. Where there is no minyan, there can be no worship; there is no church. In Roman Catholicism, only two baptized people are required for the celebration of Mass, but one of them must be an ordained priest. Where there is no Eucharist, there is no church. At least that’s the canonical law we’re working under.
Can we gather a minyan? All the statistics yield the same result: the number of Catholics is growing in the United States; the number of ordained priests is declining. We have no trouble gathering the assembly today. We do have a growing problem finding an ordained presider.
Some would say the problem is celibacy. Others would say the problem is sexism. While our Church’s failure to ordain women and married people is truly unjust, it cannot be shown to be the root of the problem of clergy shortage. The Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Baptists, the Episcopalians—all of whom ordain women and married people—have the same problem. They are having increasing difficulty in finding people willing to commit their lives to the service of the people of God through the institutional church.
Why is that? Don’t we take our baptism seriously? We have been baptized, as Paul says in our second reading, into Christ’s death and Christ’s new life. We see more and more people being baptized in our churches. These people join the ranks of a vital church, reaching out with eagerness to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, to instruct the ignorant and comfort the sorrowful, to visit the sick and the imprisoned and to bury the dead. These newly baptized step into line on the journey of faith, singing and praying along the way. Why do they not seek ordination?
The answer is both simple and complex.
It’s simple: They do not see the ordained priesthood as a significant or worthwhile way to live out their baptismal commitment.
And it’s complex: The reasons for the diminishment of the priesthood are many.
The sexism that permeates our church structures.
The racism that remains embedded in many of our local churches.
The hedonism that pulls us to serving the false gods of our culture.
The authoritarianism that limits the use of the gifts that people bring.
The lack of spiritual modeling by those practicing the priesthood.
If someone wanted to make our church in the United States something other than a Eucharistic community, they could not have written a more effective formula: Cut out 50% of the people by refusing to ordain women. Then cut out another 20% or more because their biological ancestry is other than European. Then model a priesthood that is overwhelmingly authoritarian, rule-bound, burned out, angry, suspicious, and afraid to share spirituality, and require them to administer the technical day-to-day operations of parish and school systems for which they have no training.
Luke’s Gospel tells us that God will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask. Do we ask for the Holy Spirit, or for something else? Are we asking for lots of the "right kind" of priests just so we can continue to have them run parishes and schools and exclude women and other marginalized people? Are we listening to God’s answer?
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Gospel of Greed or Gospel of Giving?
Ecclesiastes 1:2, 2:21-23—All things are vanity!
Psalm 95: If today you hear God's voice, harden not your hearts.
Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11—Seek what is above.
Luke 12:13-21—Rich in what matters to God.
My pastor, being an open and trusting priest, loaned his copy of the key to the church to a parishioner this week and did not get it back. Knowing I usually celebrated at the 5 o’clock on Saturday, he phoned me mid-afternoon to ask if I would see that the church was open when people began to arrive, and I did.
After Mass, he agreed to allow me to have copies of the other keys to the church, but he said I mustn’t let anyone know because some parishioners do not believe that others should have access and they were already chastising him for having given some copies out.
The essence of a parish community, for good or ill, is laid bare for all to see in the way the keys to its buildings are treated. I once asked a parish secretary how many keys were out among parishioners, and she emphatically and angrily replied, “Too many!” For her, the two keys that were out were indeed too many because she believed she should have the only key so that she could make sure things were always where they were supposed to be.
At another parish, I remember standing with a young couple in the emergency room, holding hands over the body of their two-year-old son. The wife was a cradle Catholic, the husband unbaptized. Both were active in parish activities and regular weekly Mass-goers. They lived about a quarter mile from the church, so, when I left them that afternoon, I gave the bereaved father a key to the church and told him to go there anytime, day or night, alone or with his wife, if he needed a place to be. Six months later he showed up for RCIA, saying that we became his church when his son died.
It’s not just keys. Volunteer for something in a parish, and you’ll be able to tell what kind of parish it is by what happens. I’ve heard the whole gamut of responses, from “We don’t need any help,” to having my name put on a list that gets filed and never used, to being asked to answer phones only to be left to sit unoccupied for the whole three-hour shift, to actually being invited and included and involved in parish service. Whenever I hear people in a parish complaining because no one volunteers, I find that one person or a few people are hoarding the ministries, parceling them out only to those who show little possibility of active participation. A book could be written exploring the psychology of that parish dynamic. It seems to be a complex form of "Jesus and me."
Another way to discern the presence of Spirit in a community is to check out the operation of the soup kitchen or food pantry run by its social justice committee. Are people welcomed and treated with dignity? Are they herded into lines or required to wait on benches? Is the door open when people are in need, or only at prescheduled hours convenient to the paid staff? Two weeks ago I stopped in for my morning coffee at one of our parishes’ soup kitchens, and while I was there had a chance to observe the interactions among paid staff, volunteers, and the people seeking help. At one point a couple came in and were served breakfast. While they were there, a worker entered with a case of yogurt and invited everyone to “take as much as you want.” The couple got at the end of the line, but when they picked up the last four yogurts, one of the paid staff people began murmuring loudly against “some people” who “make pigs of themselves.” She made the couple return the yogurts and sent them away, ranting and railing at them. Later, when the soup kitchen closed for the day, I saw the four yogurts go out the door with her.
At another parish we celebrated the generosity of a parishioner who donated a used van for the youth program. The parish was a large suburban parish with many young people, and the van would be perfect for taking them to retreats and service activities. The youth minister was appreciative—but not for long. A week later the title was passed from the donor to the parish to a friend of the business manager, and a letter went out saying the van had been sold and the proceeds donated to the parish.
Today’s scriptures make clear the direction our parishes should be taking. “Vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!” Paul tells us, “Put to death, then, the parts of you that are earthly: immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and the greed that is idolatry.” Those who hoard for themselves, whether it be the keys to the church or the positions on parish committees, whether it be the soup and sandwiches in the pantry or in-kind contributions, are immersed in the gospel of greed. Luke’s Gospel, on the other hand, is clearly the gospel of giving. We are called to commit ourselves to the service of others.
As we go about this week, let’s lift up, piece by piece, the parts of our daily lives, hold them openly in the sight of God, and ask if they matter. What is it that matters to God? And how rich are we in that?
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): Where Is Your Heart?
Wisdom 18:6-9—With sure knowledge of the promise of God, have courage.
Psalm 33: Happy the people the Lord has chosen to be his own.
Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19—Faith is the realization of things hoped for and evidence of things not seen.
Luke 12:32-48—Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.
From time to time over the years I’ve observed a phenomenon that I can only describe as compulsive keeping. I first saw it when I was a child visiting one of my aunts. Our family usually visited in the summer, and we usually sat outside under a tree while we talked and drank lemonade. On the occasions when we did go inside the house, we’d always find it packed to the rafters with “stuff,” piles upon piles, with a tiny pathway through it, less than a foot wide.
Later I saw that same phenomenon when my adopted son, having graduated from high school, decided that he would rather set up housekeeping on his own than abide by the rules at home any longer. He’d been with his birth family the first nine years of his life, and the pattern of housekeeping he’d learned there was the one he followed once he set out on his own.
Then, a few years ago a friend asked me to help move his apartment to another city. When I arrived at the appointed time, he would not let me touch any of the piles in his living room, dining room, or kitchen, and he would not let me look into his bedroom or bathroom. After about ten minutes of ineffectual moving piles from one spot to another, he called it quits and we went to lunch. As the time drew nearer for the move, I returned again and again as he asked for help, but the piles did not get smaller. On moving day he gathered everything—clothes, dishes, magazines, books, fast food wrappers, all the flotsam and jetsam of his life—into garbage bags and moved the whole lot, filling his new apartment and garage as well as the garages of two friends. He could not bring himself to let go of anything. The irony was that whenever he needed something, he had to buy it because he could never find anything in the bags and piles.
It’s easy to recognize the dysfunction in these households. Psychologists can trace its roots to insecurity and lack of self-esteem, among other causes. Harder to see is the compulsion in our own lives, the hoarding of “stuff” that we do every day.
Today’s readings caution us to be prepared, but the preparedness is not a matter of gathering and collecting and hoarding. God is pleased to give us the kingdom, so we need nothing else; we are free to sell our belongings and give alms. We are encouraged to provide money bags for ourselves that do not wear out, “an inexhaustible treasure in heaven.”
What do you treasure? Is it your spouse, your children, grandchildren, family? Is it your home, land, investments, a retirement portfolio? Is it your wardrobe, your car, a boat, a summer vacation condo, a pet, a hobby, travel, a computer? Is it your job, your experience, your reputation, your education, skills, talent, ability? Time? Health? Where do you spend yourself, and why?
All these treasures—the gifts of God’s kingdom—are ours. It is clear that we are to use them to serve others. We are called to very careful stewardship of everything we have, from family members to clothing to furniture to bank accounts. The more God has given us, the more we must use those gifts for others. We must love things because they provide us the opportunity to help others.
The shema of our Jewish roots rings out its clarion call to love God with all our heart. Ask yourself: where is your heart?
20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): From the Bottom of the Cistern
Jeremiah 38:4-6, 8-10—Prophets risk being thrown into muddy cisterns; Jeremiah is rescued this time.
Psalm 40—Lord, come to my aid!
Hebrews 12:1-4—Let’s keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith.
Luke 12:49-53—I have come to set the earth on fire! Do you think I have come to establish peace on the earth?
This afternoon, while I was shopping at the local discount store, I heard screaming obscenities from the next aisle. When I investigated, I found a woman in her forties berating a child of ten or eleven, dragging her along by her ponytail. The woman aimed a constant barrage of complaint and criticism at the girl and her younger brother, flailing out at them. I gave her “the look,” a pointed stare that my family, friends, and students all recognize as conveying significant disapproval; she looked straight at me, acknowledging it.
A few minutes later I noticed that she had returned to her abusive behavior. I went to a store employee and suggested that he call the police. Twenty minutes later, in another part of the store, I witnessed another attack by the women on the little girl. I went to another store employee and reported it. She told me she had noticed the problem, but since it looked as if they were going to leave the store, she was not going to do anything about it. The problem continued for another ten minutes before the woman left with the children.
At the time I did not have any means of dealing with the abuse apart from reporting it to those responsible for order in the store. Later it occurred to me that I could have quietly followed the woman to her car, recorded her license plate, and reported her to Children’s Services. If I happen to witness such an incident in the future, I hope I will think of such an alternative sooner.
While I don’t always take action quickly enough, I do not hesitate. As Genesis teaches us, I am my brother’s and sister’s keeper. Or, in the African proverb, it takes a village to raise a child. Each of us bears responsibility for using our God-given sense to see and listen and evaluate and take action.
In the sixties I taught a college course in which students read a short piece entitled “Thirty-Eight Who Saw Murder Didn’t Call Police.” It detailed the stalking, stabbing, and murder of Kitty Genovese while each of her neighbors decided, one by one, not to respond to her screams and struggles as she managed to escape her assailant three times, running toward her home. People didn’t want to get involved, decided it was none of their business, and Kitty finally died on her doorstep.
I’m also reminded of the many times in history when good people failed to do good things. It’s always risky, of course. Speaking up for Jews in the face of Nazi oppression landed many good people in concentration camps along with them. Speaking up for Africans in the face of Jim Crow in this country brought ostracization and violence to the champions of equality. And sometimes—too many times—there’s no one to pull the prophets out of the cistern.
This week, as we walk our journey with God, let’s look at our world with the eyes of the prophet. Are we hesitating to speak out because we’re afraid of the consequences to ourselves? Are we silent about the domestic violence next door because we might experience retaliation? Jesus is clear about the results of following him: when we put the rule of justice into action, we cannot always expect to bring peace.
21st Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): And the Last Will Be First
Isaiah 66:18-21—I come to gather nations of every language; they shall come and see my glory. They shall bring all your brothers and sisters from all the nations. Some of these I will take as priests and Levites, says the Lord.
Psalm 117: Go out to all the world and tell the good news.
Hebrews 12:5-7, 11-13—At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.
Luke 13:22-30—You will say, “We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.” And the master will say to you, “I do not know you.” And people will come from the east and west and north and south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold! some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.
Today’s reading from the prophet Isaiah tells us that the chosen people of God are an inclusive bunch. In the context of Isaiah’s time, the prophetic voice proclaimed that it was not only the Hebrews who were to participate in God’s glory; nations of every language were to come and see God’s glory. It was not only the people of Israel who would come to Jerusalem; brothers and sisters from all the nations would advance to the throne of God.
Jesus’ message in the Gospel points out the ramifications of that inclusiveness. Some who think they are heirs of the kingdom will be shut out because God does not recognize their exclusiveness, while people will come from the four corners of the earth to partake of God’s banquet feast.
In light of these readings, it’s good to ask ourselves whether or not we are excluding people from the company of those we call saved. Some specific groups in our American society come immediately to mind: Do we exclude those whose mobility differs from ours? Those whose mental, physical, or psychological state is different? The addicted? Those whose skin is a different color? Those of a different gender? Those whose income is lesser or greater than ours? Those whose sexual orientation is different? The married, the unmarried, the widowed, the separated, the divorced? The parents? Those without children? Manual laborers, factory workers, the educated?
For a moment, hold in your mind’s eye a picture of the person who is least like you. Then picture that person in heaven, next to you for all eternity. Did you think, “God would never do that to me”? Or are you able to see the underlying Godliness in the person, no matter how sinful, objectionable, or different the person is from you?
Our second reading from Hebrews suggests that the discipline that we find painful is, at root, a cause for joy, since it is training us in the way of God. The learning that must go on in us as we open our hearts to those who are different can indeed be painful, but the result of it is that we ourselves, as a result, will be able to be included with them at the table of God’s feast.
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C): The Inability to Repay
Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29—Humble yourself the more, the greater you are.
Psalm 68: God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.
Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a—You have not approached that which could not be touched; you have approached the city of the living God.
Luke 14:1, 7-14—When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you.
Over and over again God invites us to the table, and our scriptures this weekend are full of advice on how we are to approach.
We are to approach humbly, as our first reading from Sirach suggests. The greater our position, the more humbly we must behave.
We are to keep in mind that we are approaching the city of God, approaching Godself, approaching Jesus the mediator. How that thought should bend us to humility!
Finally, when we give a banquet, we are to invite the outcasts of our society. Fortunately, the blind, the crippled, and the lame are more and more often welcomed in the world of our contemporary United States. Others, however, do not fare so well: the poor remain outcast in our world, as do the victims of AIDS and people of color, among others.
When we open our hands to give to the Church, more often than not we do not do so with pure motives. We expect return on our investment, either in the form of improved facilities that we may then use, or in the form of improved services that we may then take advantage of, or in the form of education for our children, and so on. Sometimes the return is so subtle we have to scrutinize our thoughts to uncover it. For example, we may expect to gain a reputation for generosity.
Think about the last time you gave something to someone without recompense. It’s not easy to do.
Now think about the last time someone gave you something without expectation of return. In the millisecond it takes to think about it, God just gave you another moment of life to live! And that’s just the beginning.
As we go about this week, let’s remember where we are, and how we got here. Let’s be grateful for all the gifts God showers on us without any effort on our part. And let’s try to share our bounty with others in the same way.
