Wis 9:13-18b
Ps 90:3-6; 12-17
Phmn 9-10, 12-17
Lk 14:25-33
A few years ago I giggled while reading a newspaper story in which the headline trumpeted the scientist Richard Hawking's declaration: "God not necessary to create the universe." I giggled because of the corollary that popped into my head: "Richard Hawking not necessary to explain God." And then I remembered an old graffito and broke into a laugh. The graffito read:
“God is dead. Nietzsche”
And below it . . . .
“Nietzsche is dead. God”
Humans are fallible unknowing creatures who struggle to make sense out of the world. no matter if they are brilliant scientists like Hawking or if they are illiterate. They ask the same questions though the wording is different. Any answers are tentative and always in need of revision, depending on more factors than can be listed.
The first verse of the reading from Wisdom is key to understanding the dilemma of being human. “Who can know God’s counsel or who can conceive what the Lord intends?” That verse should be inscribed over the entrance to every church, theology school, and seminary in the world. It should be inscribed on our hearts. Perhaps recalling that question would temper some of the theological-scriptural-sociological-psychological arrogance of preachers and theologians as well as the merely observant. It might tamp down the smug certainties of fundamentalists and militant atheists alike.
Who can know God’s counsel?
Who can know what God intends?
No one.
That doesn’t mean humans don’t pretend to know God’s counsel. It doesn't mean they won't offer a strong opinion on what the Lord intends, sometimes giving the impression that they were God's hired consultants.
“Scarce do we guess the things on earth, and what is within our grasp we find with difficulty.” That is a concise history of science. It is summary of all medical advances since Hippocrates, and a synopsis of world history from before it was written down.
Men on the moon . . .
But we can’t alleviate the traffic on 128, I-93, or Storrow Drive.
Heart transplants are routine . . .
the common cold remains a scourge.
Seedless watermelons
(wasted research dollars as they lack flavor as well as seeds). . .
but hunger afflicts much of the world.
All of those accomplishments were achieved with great difficulty. Our only choice is to accept our mortality, to admit our fallibility and our status as flawed beings. Our only choice is to recall that we are sinners, but sinners who are loved by God, whose counsel or intent we can never know. When we recall this we can only marvel at the insight of the psalmist:
“For a thousand years in your sight
are as yesterday, . . .
or a watch in the night. . .”
We do not know God’s counsel. We do not know what the Lord intends. It can never be otherwise.
Jesus’ parable reflects the first reading and illustrates the difficulty of being human and fallible. Who does construct a tower without calculating the cost? Probably the same people as those responsible for the Big Dig. Who marches into—or withdraws from— battle without calculating the strength of his troops or the cost of his actions? Only a fool. But Jesus is not simply addressing the need to plan ahead. He is warning us of the cost of commitment.
What is the cost to someone who chooses to follow Jesus? It is high. It is high in ways that are unique to each of us who make that choice. The cost of following Jesus is high in ways dependent on our individual life stories, our individual vocations, and our unique talents.
Jesus reminds us frequently that the cost of following Him is going to be high. Perhaps higher than we calculated. It may also be easier than expected. Because we cannot know God’s counsel or what He intends, we can only say yes to following Jesus on the grounds of faith, the kind of faith that the Letter to the Hebrews defines eloquently as: “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.”
And then we pray with the psalmist:
"Fill us at daybreak with your kindness,
that we may shout for joy and gladness all our days.
And may the gracious care of the LORD our God be ours;
prosper the work of our hands for us!
Prosper the work of our hands!
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A bit late posting. It is football season. Penn State was playing (and won though it was not pretty). The photos are from a recent trip to the Charterhouse in Vermont. Stayed in a very large mid-50s house that is almost a museum of pastel kitchen, dishes. and furniture. The house overlooks Arlington, VT
Took this while sipping the first of many cups of coffee that day. It was one of the most beautiful days of the summer. The fog is about 2600 feet below the house.
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| The living room and the deck overlooking the valley. The problem with the house is that the windows don't open. Ventilation is only possible from the small screened windows near the baseboards. I generally stay in the maid's quarters off the kitchen as it actually has windows that open. |
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| Carved wooden statue of St. Bruno, the founder of the order. |
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| Am fascinated by these glasses on display. They look like something from which June Cleaver or Harriet Nelson would sip their bubbly. |
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| Shooting down. No, I was not standing on a chair. |
Fr. Jack, SJ, MD
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