There are 168 hours in a week and we spend one
of them in church. When this was pointed out to a preacher once, he commented
that the reason we spend one hour out of the 168 in church is to make sense
of the other 167.
Last year I applied for a doctoral program at the Aquinas Institute of Theology
in St. Louis. I hoped to study for my doctorate in theology and move on
to teaching college level theology courses. I secured references, wrote
an essay and made a videotape of one of my homilies. I successfully challenged
one of the requirements for a specific underlying degree. And after all
of this, a few weeks ago I received a letter stating that my application
was denied. I was angry, hurt, disappointed and I brought it to Jesus and
complained to him about it. And you know what He said? "Foxes have dens
and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest
his head." This was Jesus' response right after a Scribe told Jesus he would
follow Him anywhere! I'm still trying to figure out what kind of follower
of Jesus I am. If I'm honest and say that I'm a so-so follower, then I hear
Jesus say from the Book of Revelations "So because you are lukewarm, neither
hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth." (Rev. 3:16) Ouch. In this
morning's gospel Jesus holds out to us the special relationship with God
that we are called to. When I was in religious life at Graymoor we ended
every chapel service with the prayer of Fr. Paul Watson, our founder. The
priest would say "That they all may be one" and we would all answer, "As
you Father are in me and I in you, that they may be one in us that the world
may believe that you sent me." Fr. Paul, who was an Episcopal priest converted
to Catholicism, believed this prayer, from today's gospel, to be the will
of Jesus and the separations of people by religion, especially between Christians,
was something that could be reconciled. It was a mission he lived and preached
until his death, and continues to be the mission of the Graymoor Friars
to this day. But unity is not meant to be just that all humanity believes
in the one God and in Jesus as Messiah. The good news that Jesus constantly
preached was that God was not an unapproachable Supreme Being, but a loving
real Presence that longs more than anything for us to recognize that we
are His children and that His love for us is the love of a parent for a
child. To Jesus love doesn't mean just sending flowers. He speaks of a oneness;
a relationship that is so close that differences cannot be detected. And
this relationship is not meant to be just between Him and His Father, but
for each of us and for all of us. This is a reality that we haven't yet
quite achieved. So we spend a lifetime in pursuing this ideal. But this
is not just an intellectual exercise. It is reality. It is a lived experience
we call life. It is the model of life that Jesus lived and it is meant to
be lived by each one of us as well. Thus, as each adventure of life occurs,
we face the challenge of choosing as our emotions, or biases, or feelings
urge us to; or we can choose as Jesus does, with love, with patience, with
an eye on the prize that beckons us: oneness with our God and Creator, the
Lord who loves us. When one of my co-workers this past week received her
college degree we had a little get together for her in the Infirmary kitchen.
It was a time of fellowship and a celebration of oneness, for as one of
us is exalted, all of us are exalted. Yet the reverse is also true. When
we view the torture of Iraqi prisoners by U.S. soldiers, all of us are degraded.
The prayer of Jesus that we all become one means that we are sharers of
all things, the good and the bad. This is the life we have chosen. He is
the Master and Lord we have professed to follow. So it comes to us to be
the bearers of the light, the salt of the earth, the voice and hands and
heart of Jesus to all we meet on the journey: those we love, those we like
and especially those we cannot bear or understand. It means listening to
the Holy Spirit each day and allowing the Spirit to lead us, oftentimes
to places we would rather not go. It means taking those words that have
been handed down to us in the gospels and sacred writings and hearing Jesus
speak them to us personally. It means choosing to make the gospel values
of Jesus our values as well. There is an old Christian legend that goes
like this: A woman's happy life was shattered by the death of her brother,
a good man that she loved dearly. She kept asking God "Why?" but heard nothing
but silence. She set out to find the answer to her question and came upon
an old man weeping on the side of the road. She asked why he was weeping
and he replied that he was an artist and had lost his eyesight and could
no longer paint. He too was seeking the answer to "Why?" so she invited
him on her journey. They then came upon a young man walking about aimlessly.
He had lost his wife, the source of his joy, to another man and could only
wonder "Why?". He too joined the search. The three them came upon a young
woman crying on the side of the road whose child had died and she too joined
them in search of "Why?" Suddenly they came upon Jesus. They each stated
their questions to their life situations, but Jesus gave no answer. Instead
He began to cry and when they asked Him why he was crying, He said, "I am
bearing the burden of a woman who has lost her brother, a girl whose baby
has died, a painter who has lost his eyesight and a young man who has lost
a love in which he delighted." As Jesus spoke, the five moved together and
embraced. And Jesus said, "My Kingdom is the Kingdom of the heart. I cannot
prevent pain, I can only heal it." "How?" the woman asked. "By sharing it,"
Jesus replied, and then He was gone. The four were left holding each other.
And thus the Kingdom of God is built.
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