Monday, September 30, 2013

The Stuff of Our Lives

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Amos 6, 1a, 4-7 / 1 Tim 6, 11-16 / Lk 16, 19-31

The parable Jesus tells us is a study in contrasts.  There’s the rich man who dresses in purple and fine linen.  His whole life yells “I live in luxury and I want you to know it.”  He plans his pleasures and parties carefully.  But notice this:  in the parable he has no name.  He’s nameless.  Living for his own pleasure makes him a nobody.  There’s no substance to him – no deeper identity.  And then there’s Lazarus – a beggar.  He’s a man without the luxuries of life – without all the things and stuff of the rich man.  The dogs licking his sores is not a sentimental touch.  Being licked by a dog rendered you religiously impure.  He couldn’t join with others to pray in the synagogue.  But he has a name; he’s got substance to him.  The name “Lazarus” is Greek for the Hebrew name “Eliezer” which means God is my help.


How do these two relate to one another?  Clearly they don’t – at all.  There’s a clear chasm between the two.  But notice this:  the rich man is not portrayed as an exploiter of Lazarus.  He doesn’t harm him.  Nor is he seen as an un-religious man.  He could very well be an observant Jew regularly found at synagogue services.  How the parable does portray him is simply this:  he enjoyed his riches and ignored the poor man.  Lazarus was stretched out at his door – in front of his eyes, but he did not see him.  Lazarus was really there, but the rich man excluded him from his life.  The rich man chose to be indifferent.  He chose to keep company with his pleasures and parties – to keep company with his things and stuff.  He chose to exclude Lazarus and Lazarus’ suffering from his real concern.  And in the parable we see graphically how God reacts to this chosen behavior.

It is tempting to understand this parable in a partisan, political way.  Jesus is for the poor and against the rich.  To be a real disciple of Jesus you shouldn’t be rich.  Being poor makes you more pleasing to God.  Really good Christians stay at second-class hotels.  If they stay at the Ritz, they get tarnished.   But all that misses the point being made in the parable; and it misunderstands the tragedy being acted out in it.

For Jesus there is a clear connection between being his disciple and the way we own and use possessions.  What the parable wants to do is to get us thinking about what is my real, lived relationship to the things I have and possess.  The way we regard owning things and the value we attach to possessions have everything to do with the way we think about ourselves and about other people in our lives.  Do I value myself in terms of what I have?  Is my success given in what I have?  And then, do I like things more than people?  Do I rely on them more than people?  Is stuff more important, more attractive to me than people?

We can think about how we would answer those questions – how we would like to think of ourselves answering them.  But for Jesus our real answer is given in how we actually respond to human need and suffering.  If we choose to live at a distance from the suffering of others – choose to live blind to their needs, then we have already given our answers.

But notice this.  The parable does present us with a tragedy – a human tragedy.  And the end of the parable shows us how Jesus understands this tragedy.  He thinks our tears should be kept for the rich man.  He is the tragic figure.  He had the opportunity to live a fully human life, and he chose to live the little life – the meager life of stuff and things.  He made a tragedy of his life.  He made himself a nobody.

Fr. Pat Earl, SJ

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Cost of Discipleship

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Wis 9, 13-18 / Philem 9-10, 12-17 / Lk 14, 25-33

In today’s gospel from Luke Jesus asks us to consider what it means in our lives to be his disciple.  He wants to remind us that discipleship will have its costs.  It doesn’t come cheaply.  I’d like to reflect with you a bit on what being a disciple of Jesus means for us.  And I’d like to reflect on what we have done with that discipleship.

The first Christian communities thought of themselves, above all, as followers of Jesus.  For them, believing in Jesus meant walking in his “way” by following his footsteps.  An early text, the letter to the Hebrews, calls it a “new and living way” that Jesus opened up for us.[Heb 10, 20]  So, to follow in Jesus’ footsteps means taking actual steps in life, making concrete decisions, turning away from things Jesus warns about, discovering new horizons, new possibilities for one’s own life.  All this is involved in following Jesus, in believing in Jesus, in being a disciple of Jesus.

But I want to reflect on what we have made of what the early disciples gave us.  I think we have moved away from their understanding of discipleship.  And here I want to be clear.  I am not pointing the finger at any particular group.  I am talking to us all – myself very much included.  I think many of us live our Christianity today not so much as “followers of Jesus” but rather as “adherents of the Christian religion”.  By that I mean we live as and consider ourselves to be members of a religious institution, the Church – members who are called upon to fulfill their religious and moral obligations and accept the Church’s teachings.  Now membership in the Church – in what we believe to be the true Church – is vitally important to us.  But bringing about the Kingdom of God that Jesus preached – well, that would be nice.  That’s a kind of extra call for special people.  Church membership gives me an anchor in this crazy world.  But being a disciple calls me to walk in the way Jesus opened up for us – a way that finds its secure anchor in God – in doing what we believe God asks of us.  Our anchor is in doing what we see Jesus did.  Disciples call that “faith” – entrusting your life over to the love of God we see in the life of Jesus.  To live like Jesus – to love like Jesus: that’s faithful discipleship.

Let me give an example of what I am trying to say.  As Church we affirm the truth of the virgin birth of Jesus.  This is a challenge to our way of thinking.  And many faithful people have struggled to understand what is being said here.  But also as Church, as the community of the disciples of Jesus, we affirm the truth of loving your enemy.  This love reflects most clearly God’s own love.  This love is what makes a disciple a disciple, Jesus says.  This is the love that will banish our fears, Jesus says.

The truth of the virgin birth calls for a deep intellectual struggle and grappling.  The truth of the love of enemies also calls for intellectual struggle but even more so it demands a grappling within one’s heart. It demands a grappling that will change the way I do things and approach people.  And it is this kind of grappling we call the life of discipleship.  It’s never neat and complete.  But it is alive.  And it is a “new and living way” for us to live – to be disciples of Jesus.

We owe it to ourselves.  We owe it to one another – to the Church.  Let us honestly reckon the costs of being disciples of Jesus.  How are we doing with his new and living way?

Fr. Pat Earl, SJ

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Being of the Earth

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 

 

The author of our first reading was Jesus ben Sirach.  And this Jesus speaks to us about humility.  The Jesus in the gospel reading from Luke, Jesus of Nazareth, also speaks to us about humility.  So humility seems to be our theme. 

We all have images of what it means to be humble.  I want to suggest an image and a way of being humble that comes to us from both Jesus’ – Jesus ben Sirach and Jesus of Nazareth.  In the Hebrew scriptures the first human is named Adam.  And adamah is the Hebrew word for earth and soil.  Adam was of the earth.  Our word “humble” comes from the Latin word humus, meaning “earth”, “soil”, “dirt”.  Being humble has to do with being earthy – never losing touch, never losing one’s connection with your rootedness in the earth.  But there’s more to the word.  Humus is also the root for the Latin word humanus, meaning “human”, “human being”.  Being human also has to do with being earthy – just like the Jewish scriptures say. 

Being humble – being human – both have to do with being earthy – not losing your connection with earthy roots.  These words call on us to become simple – to return to basics.  They would have us be simply ourselves – our un-dressed-up, down-to-earth self.  And Jesus’ advice to the house guests calls on them to be themselves, just their human selves – not putting on airs – not seeking to put distance between themselves and others – not seeking to be above others. 

We belong with one another.  That’s the simple, humble, human truth about us that Jesus wants us to recognize – and to live.  We belong with one another and we belong to one another.  For Jesus, just as we cannot imagine life without earth and air, sky and water – just so we cannot imagine life without the closeness of other people.  Without the rhythm of giving to and receiving from one another – without living in partnership with one another – our lives become inhuman.  We merely vegetate.  We may even copulate.  But we don’t have real human life – because there is no real we; there’s just me. My bottom line is just me.  And where there’s just me, then connection and community become mere stepping stones to higher seats, higher stations in life. 

Can you imagine making distance from other people your goal in life – the sign of your success?  Where there’s just me – then life becomes a routine of just stepping up to the higher salary, moving up to the greater recognition.  Your life’s goal goes into creating distance between yourself and others.  Success is creating greater space between us.  Success is having no real relationship or partnership - having no real connection or community. 

But Jesus reminds us we are human and humble.  Our lives are not just private affairs.  We belong with one another.  We belong to one another.  Jesus calls us to be just ourselves – just our humble, human, down-to-earth selves.  Conduct your life with humility, and you will be loved – loved more than a giver of gifts.