18 Aug 2019
20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C
A basic message we get from Scripture today is: Keep going,
persevere in faith, live with a fire in your spirit. In a way, it’s the voice of the “cloud of witnesses,”
who are like the fans alongside a race course, cheering the runners on. “Keep going!
Persevere in faith! Live with a
fire in your spirit!” And that can
certainly be helpful to hear. But, at
the same time, it can be kind of annoying to hear...if we lose sight of the end
goal, if we forget why we started to run the race in the first place.
The question “why” really jumps out from a reading of the
Scriptures today. Why do we
do...anything? What motivates the runner
to run a marathon? What motivates
politicians to take the positions they do, and do that in the manner they
do? What motivates the baker to bake a
pie for the county fair? What motivates
the Christian to be a Christian, to be a Catholic? Why do we do...anything that we do?
I imagine if we each thought about it, we’d come up with a
whole bunch of answers, depending on what it is we’re talking about. But I also imagine there’d be some common
themes. What motivates us? Maybe the idea of: fulfillment, satisfaction,
or personal well-being; being a good neighbor, a good citizen, looking out for
what’s good, right, and just; doing things for the betterment of others, out of
love for others, out of love for God, love of country, love of a particular way
of life; the experience of being alive; the experience of being part of
something.
If the purpose behind what we’re doing is something we’re
drawn to, well, we’ll probably persevere until we reach our goal. We’ll probably keep going, and live “with a
fire in our spirit” just naturally. When
we consider Jesus and what compelled him to do what he did, we know he stayed
the course because...he had a clear vision of where he was going. The Letter to the Hebrews says: “For the sake
of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross....”
For the sake of the joy that lay before him.... Jesus had “joy” in his sights; specifically,
the joy of being with the Father again.
That was his goal; that was his vision.
And that’s what kept him going. Even
when others opposed him, and persecuted him, and put him to death, he powered
through. The vision, the “joy that lay
before him” is what put the fire in his belly to persevere, to live well and truly
while on earth.
And we see the same with all the Saints. Saint Francis and
Saint Clare had a vision of total dependence on the providence of God, total
abandonment to his good will. And they
didn’t let anything stand in between them and that vision. Saint Gianna Molla had a vision of respect
for life. And when she was pregnant, and
was encouraged to have an abortion, she said no. She lived the vision of life—even at the
expense of her own.
Saint Pope Pius X had the vision of beautiful liturgy (him
and many others), where Mass would be truly a meeting between the living God
and his faithful people. And he did
everything in his power to support that vision.
St. Catherine of Siena had a vision where the Church would have its act
together. And so, she didn’t hesitate to
call the bishops and the pope on the carpet for not having it together. The Saints all had (and have) a vision before
them; a vision that has something to do with the Kingdom of God. And, what’s most important is that they don’t
lose sight of the vision. That’s the
“crown,” that’s the “prize:” attaining the vision.
And this idea of “the vision” is fundamental to us and our
life. Why go to Mass? Why be merciful? Why stand up for something? Why give my time? Why give my money? Why do...anything? That question “why” is all-important because
it makes us consider what it is that we’re living for; that is, “the
vision.”
When people ask me why I became a priest, it wasn’t because I
wanted to go to finance meetings. It
wasn’t because I wanted to know more about boilers and building codes. And it certainly wasn’t because I wanted to
be responsible—legally and canonically—for everything that happens in a parish
and school. I became a priest because I
had a vision of a life devoted to God and his ways. Pure and simple.
It’s also the basic vision the Church has of its priests;
that they will assist the people of God in their devotion to him and his
ways. Interestingly, though, that
vision—it seems—is often put on the back burner. Other, “more pressing” things easily overtake
that vision. And then, pretty soon, you
don’t have anybody in the parish being a spiritual “head;” an administrative
head, yes, a financial and organization head, yes. But, a spiritual head? Not as much, or not as strongly.
I sometimes wonder if the trickle of priestly vocations we
have is due, at least in part, to an impoverished vision of what we’re
about—either as a Church or as priests (or both). If there’s one vocation that could really be
fostered today is the vocation of prophet.
Among other things, the prophet is someone who keeps others on track;
they remind others of the vision, of what it is they’re living for.
There’s a big difference between the time in which the
Scriptures were written, and our 21st Century world. For the past six- or seven-hundred years,
Christianity has really taken a beating.
And, in the last one hundred fifty years or so, the basic idea of the
religious or spiritual sense—the idea that there is God or “the gods”—has also
been pummeled.
When the Letter to the Hebrews was written, God was a given,
faith in Jesus was a given (for believers).
That letter (or, at least, the portion we heard today) was meant to
encourage. It was meant to encourage
people who already had the vision; who were invested in the vision. But, today, the Letter to the Hebrews lacks
some context and relevance, because it depends on the hearer already having a
commitment to the vision. If the vision
isn’t there, the letter doesn’t mean anything.
But that’s where we find ourselves today. Now, certainly, there are pockets of people
who are very definitely committed to the vision of God and his ways. And there are pockets of people who, at
least, have an inkling of the vision; who have not written off God and faith as
useless. But those people—us—live within
a sea of doubt and non-faith.
So often, the centuries before the Renaissance are called the
“Dark Ages”—as opposed to the “Enlightenment.”
The “Dark Ages,” some say, is that time in human history when people
were intellectually “dark,” when they were “dim-witted,” when they
were...stupid; when they were fooled into believing in God and faith. The “Enlightenment,” they say, is when people
stopped believing, and started using their brains; when they became
“enlightened.”
Today, however, from the standpoint of faith, there are many
who think that right now we’re living in an honest to goodness “dark age.” Human reason is good, science is great. But without faith, without God, we’re just
lost in the dark. And that darkness can
be consuming, sometimes, to people who have the Light within them, who have a
vision of a something else impressed upon them by God their Creator.
And those are the ones—we are the ones—who have the challenge
of staying true to the vision, even as the “cross of darkness and ignorance of
God” is all around us.
Now, you might say, “Father, I don’t have the vision. My faith is kind of dry. I’m not really sure why I come to Mass, other
than out of habit. I don’t know that I’m
moving toward... anything.” And, to
that, I would say: Let’s talk. It’s too
individual of a question to really address in a homily. So, I would say, let’s sit and talk.
If you notice, I haven’t really tried to lay out “the vision”
in this homily. And that’s because each
of us is motivated by different things, by different visions. From a Catholic standpoint, those visions all
connect to the one Kingdom of God. But
there are many ways to approach God and faith; different ways to appreciate
what God has in store for us.
Some of us are motivated by a vision of excellent
worship. And that’s what we dedicate
ourselves to—for love of God. Some of us
are motivated by a vision of harmony and cooperation among God’s people—or people
in general. And so we dedicate ourselves
to that vision—for love of God. Some of
us are motivated by the vision of just contemplating God and his beauty and
truth, like Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus.
And so, we embrace prayer—intense prayer, as our purpose in life—for
love of God.
The Kingdom of God is like a many-faceted jewel. You can come at it from different directions,
with different vantage points, but it’s one and the same Kingdom. And the visions we have of God and Christian
living and what lies beyond are also many-faceted. The important thing is to have the
vision—even if it’s a little foggy to start.
Have the vision, love the vision, be intrigued and motivated by the
vision, and go deep—no matter the cost.
That’s the “fire” Jesus refers to; the fire of intentional,
purposeful, meaningful life in God. Have
the vision, love the vision, live the vision—no matter the cost, no matter
what.
No comments:
Post a Comment