Fr Jack SJ MD: I Do Not Know You: Homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Isaiah 66:18-21

Ps 117

Heb 12:5-7, 11-13

Luke 13:22-30

Today's readings are neither comforting nor consoling. They will not soothe fears. They will not erase doubt. It is much more comforting to hear blessed are the poor or I am the good Shepherd. That will have to wait for another day.

If anything, the readings from Hebrews and Luke’s Gospel will increase frustration; they will force us to ask questions such as: Why bother? Where is God? Disturbing though they may be these readings are important. They reflect a primary reality in the lives of all believers as well as those deemed to be saints: a life following Jesus is neither easy nor smooth. We must cope with doubt and uncertainty. Each of us must recommit daily and then continue the journey.

A recurring theme in the recent daily gospels has been that of exclusion or perhaps exclusivity. The gospels from Monday through Thursday, include variations on the themes of many are called and few are chosen, the last shall be first and the first last.

How many will arrive at the gate?

Who will get through?

Will I make the cut?

The first reading from Isaiah proclaims that people from other nations who hear of the true God, the God of Abraham and Moses, will come to Jerusalem from all over the world to worship and offer sacrifice. These particular passages

come from the end of the last chapter of Isaiah. The penultimate verse of this chapter is: “And sabbath after sabbath, all flesh shall come to worship before Me,

says the Lord.” This is key. Worship, prayer, thanksgiving, and observing the Sabbath; these are what will bring us through the narrow door.

The reading from Hebrews emphasizes that the journey is neither easy nor guaranteed to be pleasant. It is, in fact, a difficult journey, a journey of trial, a journey in which weakness is revealed. It is the journey of life as we experience it. It is a journey punctuated by struggle, doubt, and error . . .

and of being disciplined for that error.

There is no promise--there has never been a promise and there will never be a promise--that following Jesus brings a life free of challenge, a life without sorrow, suffering, or darkness, or a life in which one never feels abandoned.

Discipline is painful to receive. Discipline is painful to administer. It alienates the one who is disciplined from the one who disciplines and vice-versa. It may take a long time before we can look the one who disciplined us in the eye without resentment, without feeling a sting or becoming defensive. Not one of us enjoys being criticized. No one enjoys being disciplined even when it is deserved. However, Hebrews includes a promise of relief: “At the time it is administered,

all discipline seems a cause for grief and not for joy. But later it brings forth the fruit of peace and justice to those who are trained in its school.”

We recall discipline more acutely than we do praise. We learn more from our mistakes than from our successes. We grow more from adversity than we do in times of plenty and ease. It is paradoxical that sometimes the farther we feel from God the closer we are to Him, the more distant Jesus seems the more likely He is walking next to us.

In the context of this week’s readings, the gospel is a further warning

against spiritual elitism, a warning against sectarianism and self-importance. . . a warning against assuming we are God’s chosen; His favorites, while everyone else is second class. We have all been guilty--and will be guilty—of saying or thinking something along the lines of, “What is someone like HER doing here?”

“Who admitted THAT novice?” Or, in a variation on Groucho's famous statement,

“I wouldn’t want to belong to any club that lets HIM in.”

Each one of us is the potential hearer of Jesus’ rejection, “I tell you, I do not know where you come from. Away from me, you evildoers!” We ARE sinners. We are sinners loved by God to be sure, but sinners nonetheless. This is true even of those who are deemed living saints.

Think back to when excerpts of Mother Teresa’s letters were published, letters she wanted destroyed after her death. Some of the commentary was the fruit of reflection. Some pushed a vicious anti-religious anti-Catholic agenda. Some critique was absurdly psychoanalytic. or, worse yet, laden with hilarious and pretentious new age psychobabble.

It seems that despite appearances to the contrary, she was a woman who struggled with doubt for decades, she was a perceived saint whose prayer life was often dry. It appears that much of Mother Teresa’s life was one of frequent wailing and grinding of teeth; of coping with underlying dissatisfaction.

For many of us her letters enhanced rather than detracted from, her reputation for holiness because they demonstrated that though she struggled with doubt

she never rejected Jesus. Many have struggled with doubt, with dryness,

and feeling abandoned by God. Jesus himself prayed psalm 22 from the cross:

“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”

People will come all directions to partake of the banquet of the Lord. It is not important if we are first, last, or somewhere in the middle. The only important thing is that we partake of the banquet.

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Tertianship in Australia was an extraordinary experience in all dimensions. One of the best parts, aside from the long retreat, was spending five weeks in Port Lincoln, way down on the tip of South Australia. I spent the time working in a parish in which the priest, a nice guy, had gone on vacation to the U.S. The irony did not escape me.

St. Mary of the Angels a short walk to Boston Bay (really, Boston Bay) I could walk there in about seven minutes.

The town from above. Very small place. It was like being back home in Plymouth, PA except rather than coal mining fishing was the industry. People were terrific. I could have easily stayed for a year or so.