22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, A August 30, 2020
Fr. Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
Video of 8am Mass: https://youtu.be/30pRHRn2QXY
“God forbid, Lord! Don’t let it happen. Don’t let them suffer, don’t let us suffer.” A reasonable request, but what do we do when he doesn’t forbid it? Do we try to forbid what God himself allows? What God himself wills? Then we may well hear that surprising rebuke Jesus offers to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” Peter, the close friend of Jesus, first among the Apostles, and the first to confess Jesus as the Son of God is called Satan. A moment ago, Jesus made him the stone, the rock on which he would build the Church but now he calls him an obstacle, a stumbling stone. Why? Because he forbids what God requires.
To be fair, the cross is scandalous, a shocking idea. Until this moment, Jesus had not fully revealed the plan of God that he would be crucified. His followers had a different frame of mind, an expectation of an earthly kingdom which would bring not only spiritual enlightenment, but also worldly success. The messiah is supposed to be a king, so how can he be king if he dies as a criminal on a cross? God forbid he should fail to be the king! But this is exactly why he must suffer and die. God forbid anything else.
This probably seems irrational. It is reasonable to want to avoid suffering. Yet, Jesus who is the truth, the logos, the very source of reason itself, tells us nearly the opposite. “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”
How is this not a cult, a bizarre collection of beliefs that are meant to override reason, to suspend rational thinking? So much of the world does see Christianity as an irrational cult, an obstacle to thought. They see faith as the voluntary suspension of reason, accusing us of sadism and masochism. A friend told me of a time he asked some children to define faith and one said “to believe something even when you know it’s not true.” The world influences our children and if we are not careful, it molds their minds to see things from a worldly perspective.
So what is our answer? Are we irrational pain worshippers after all? Not according to St. Paul, that great teacher of the early Church. “I urge you, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship.” When Paul says, “spiritual worship,” we’re losing something in translation. The Greek words are “logikaen latreian.” Latria is worship. Logikos should sound similar to another word… logic. Spiritual isn’t wrong, but the word literally means logical or rational. Paul is convinced this sacrificial worship is not just spiritual, but reasonable, rational, and logical.
How can that be? How is it reasonable to suffer? To deny ourselves? Well, even the world can see that much. How much self-denial do we see in professional athletes who sacrifice countless hours and meals to get into the best shape? How much self-denial do we see in farmers who sacrifice so much time, so many long days to get the crop planted in time and then again to get it harvested in time? In both cases, it is a very reasonable application of delayed gratification. In this world, we often need discipline and voluntary suffering if we want to achieve anything worthwhile.
But Jesus goes even further. “Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” The world is fine if you suffer through exercise in order to be healthy, but they do not understand letting your business fail because you refuse to endorse their agenda or take advantage of your employees. They understand suffering a diet to lose weight, but they don’t understand abstinence in a marriage because you refuse to use contraception. They certainly don’t understand letting yourself be killed rather than denying Jesus Christ and his teachings. But if what we believe about life, death, and eternity is true, then there is nothing more reasonable.
We claim to understand this crucified way of life, but do we really? It’s easy to stand with your Catholic faith against the “other side.” But, are you willing to challenge your own friends and allies, members of your party and culture because of your faith? It’s one thing to oppose abortion when most of the people around you agree. It’s quite another to advocate for environmental protection, police reform, or a just wage when “your side” would rather not talk about it.
Navigating our post-Christian culture – this mix of Christianity, superstition, atheism, conservatism, liberalism, and consumerism – is not automatic. St. Paul tells us to offer “rational worship” because worshiping God requires hard mental effort. Yes, we worship God at Mass on Sundays, but we also offer our “bodies as a living sacrifice.” This is why “freedom of worship” is not enough. Our whole lives are an act of worship. Every part of your body, every part of your life is supposed to be “holy and pleasing” to God. How do you know if your whole life is pleasing to God? With some careful, spiritual thinking.
It means evaluating even your oldest and most basic assumptions about life in light of the Gospel, to “be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Being a Catholic is not a checklist of ideas. It is not a checklist of certain behaviors. It is a way of life, a worldview, a fundamental shift in how you think, not just what you think. It is this shift that allows us to look at the cross, at martyrdom, at financial and social ruin and say “yes, it’s worth it.”
And getting to that point takes work. Renewal of your minds is a process. Daily reading of scripture, daily prayer, regular study of Church teaching. Turning off vulgar and blasphemous music and tv. The conversation you had last night with your buddies, the video you watched on the internet the other day, the song you played on the drive to work – could you offer those to God as part of your worship? Or would you feel guilty to invite him into those moments?
Life is full of good things: joy, wholesome fun, innocent excitement. But it is also full of evil, of perversion and temptation. Cutting these out of your life is hard. It requires suffering. It requires letting God take away what we cannot let go of on our own. When we make these sacrifices or when God begins to make them for us, what do we say? “God forbid, Lord” that I should suffer? Or do we, with Jesus Christ say “God forbid, Lord” that I should keep my life to myself when it really belongs to you.
Good homily. Enjoy being able to hear it again while sitting on my back porch with my dog Clothilde and my husband Dru, where we can contemplate and meditate on the meaning as it relates to our own lives. Thank you.🙏❤️✝️🇺🇸😇