25th Sunday of Ordinary Time, B September 22, 2024
Fr. Alexander Albert St. Mary Magdalen, Abbeville
Have you ever said the words: “I don’t want to know.” I have and I’d guess most of you have. Why wouldn’t we want to know? That’s what our minds are made for: to know! Why would we deliberately remain in ignorance?
Sometimes, actually, there is a good reason. Gossip, for example. When a friend starts talking about someone else’s business – especially when it’s something that hurts that person’s reputation – that’s a great time to say “I don’t want to know” to cut off what could very easily become an occasion of sin… even grave sin. Did you know that, if you tell someone about another person’s mortal sins without a good reason, it is a mortal sin for you? That juicy bit of gossip about who is sleeping around or how someone got drunk one night? It could be a mortal sin to pass it on, especially if you’re telling someone who didn’t already know and had no reason to know. So, by telling your gossipy friend “I don’t want to know,” you might be sparing them and you a trip to confession.
Another good reason to say it is that it doesn’t help to know about things outside your circle of influence. You should stay informed about things you’re responsible for and things that affect you, but spending endless hours following political events well beyond that? It just makes anxiety worse. Saying “I don’t want to know” then is a good practice for mental health and personal humility. Sometimes it’s true that what you don’t know can’t hurt you.
But do you know when “I don’t want to know” becomes a problem? When you say it to a teacher who is trying to teach you what you’re supposed to know. Even worse is when you say it to God. So, when the Divine teacher Jesus starts talking about the cross and the apostles think to themselves “I don’t want to know… that sounds too scary,” it’s a problem. And the Gospel then immediately gives us an insight into why the apostles are choosing to remain ignorant: pride.
Jesus calls them out on their dumb little argument about who is the greatest. You almost don’t want to blame them for it. For a while now, they’ve been following this man who can heal the sick, cast out demons, multiply loaves, and even raise people from the dead. And it isn’t just Jesus. By this point, they had already gone out on mission and done miracles themselves. Clearly this Jesus is powerful. He’s just admitted to them that he is the Christ, the promised Messiah. That’s pretty great! Why wouldn’t his followers expect to get some share of that greatness?
Indeed, human beings naturally want greatness. Some are more ambitious than others, but all of us crave something significant in life. So why is it such a bad thing that the apostles are wondering just how much of Jesus’ greatness will rub off on them? Precisely because they don’t actually want to know what real greatness is.
This happens to us in the spiritual life. Once you’ve begun to follow Jesus for real, there’s usually a sense of excitement and even a sense of greatness about it. Prayer is more enjoyable, the sacraments are attractive, serving others feels good, and learning about your faith is pleasant. But at some point – and all of us need to reach this point – there comes a challenge, a conviction of sorts.
It can take a variety of forms: perhaps letting the light of Christ in exposes some ugly fault in yourself you’d rather not admit to. Perhaps you begin to suspect God is asking you to do something very difficult, so you kinda try to avoid actually recognizing that call. Perhaps the example of other Christians suffering for their faith makes you wonder if you’re too comfortable, so you stop paying attention to that sort of thing. But, on some level, you know you’re staying ignorant on purpose. You’re “afraid to question him” because maybe what you don’t know can’t hurt you and you can’t be blamed for not following him if you don’t actually know what he wants you to do.
But sometimes what you don’t know can hurt you. Every time we shy away from the truth Jesus points out, we don’t just turn away from that truth, we also turn towards falsehood. In most cases, it’s like the apostles… we fall into the trap of pride and selfishness. There is no staying neutral in the spiritual life. If we’re not moving towards Christ – even with very tiny steps like a child who just wants to be held – then we’re going to be moving towards the world and away from Christ.
The truth is that Jesus means it when he says the first shall be last. He means it when he says “blessed are you poor.” He means it when he says we need to carry our cross. God is good and he does reward those who are faithful to him, but God’s perspective on what is “good” is a whole lot bigger than we can even imagine. When someone good unexpectedly faces an immense cross – like facing some terrible disease or sudden tragedy – it’s normal and natural to be upset, to not want to suffer. But what does Jesus say of such a thing? That this is in fact the path to even greater good than if it had never happened. It doesn’t make the disease good any more than it makes it good for the Jewish leaders to murder Jesus. Yet, it does mean that if God really pulls greater good out of evil, then sometimes the best, most loving thing God can do for us is let us suffer evil. In other words, sometimes God reminds us that the point of this life is not a comfortable existence of just being nice, but a journey from death to life through the cross.
And that death takes many forms. Most importantly, it’s putting to death our pride just as the apostles need to put to death their pride. Saying to Jesus “I don’t want to know” is, in effect, saying to God “I think I know better than you, so please keep your teaching to yourself.” But once we say that out loud, isn’t it obvious how ridiculous that is?!
By all means, do not fall into the trap of endless idle curiosity, but for the love of God and your own soul, never let fear keep you from hearing what Jesus is saying to you. If he’s telling you it’s time to drop that sin, sacrifice that comfort, or pick up that cross, then it means he knows you’re ready to hear it. He sees the death it will bring, yes, but even more he sees the resurrection that follows. So be not afraid to question him so as learn more, to follow him, and to die with him because only then will you be ready to also rise with him.