August 7, 2016
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on August 7, 2016, at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX.
The readings were for the 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year C): Wisdom 18:6-9; Psalm 33; Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19; and Luke 12:32-48.
Our readings today are not among the most familiar passages of the Bible. The gospel in particular features three ideas that don’t seem to fit together initially. Jesus instructs us to simplify our lives and to trust in God, and yet he says that we should be constantly vigilant. He uses the phrase, “gird your loins.” Perhaps an equivalent command in today’s language would be, “put on your work clothes.”
These readings do make a cohesive whole, however, as long as we believe that God wants what’s best for us. As we give God a greater role in our lives, may we have a greater sense of God’s peace!
Many of Jesus’ sayings are recorded in both Matthew and Luke, but the Church usually only gives us each saying once in the Sunday lectionary cycle, so that we can cover more of the life and teachings of Jesus in a three-year period.
While that’s usually a good thing, it leads to the rather awkward beginning of our gospel passage today. Jesus’ first words in today’s selection, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock,” are the conclusion of the beautiful “lilies of the field” discourse, encouraging us not to worry, that God will take care of us. But we’re not scheduled to hear that reading until February 26, 2017.
Luke has been emphasizing a consistent message to us over the past three weeks. Take it one day at a time. Ask, and you shall receive. Ask for your bread every day – don’t ask God for a month’s supply all at once. Don’t make yourself rich in possessions; devote your time and money to the kingdom of God.
It sounds great on paper, but it goes against every fiber of our being. The goal of the American Dream is to be in control, to be self reliant, to be prepared for every contingency. And God has entrusted many of us with the care of other people – including young children or elderly parents – so it’s not really practical for some of us to live a life of absolute poverty.
Life is complicated, but sometimes we make it more complicated than it needs to be. Some of us over-fill our homes with possessions. Some of us over-fill our schedules with obligations. We can find reasons for keeping every item we own, and most of us can justify every commitment on our calendar. But do these things help us to grow in relationship with God, or do they distract us? Jesus offers us a paradox: if we can learn to “let go” of things, if we can relinquish control of situations, it is then that we will be less anxious and more relaxed.
Since I moved to the seminary 11 years ago, I have come a long way in recognizing my tendency to become overly anxious. I now understand that anxiety robs me of the peace that God promises to me. I may still be a “recovering perfectionist,” and I still get anxious a lot, but I’ve made a lot of progress on reducing my anxiety.
Whenever we pray the Lord’s Prayer at Mass, we confuse our non-Catholic friends by inserting the embolism, the prayer that is said by the priest alone. The embolism asks God to keep us safe from “distress.” Until the translation change five years ago, we actually used the phrase “protect us from all anxiety.” Over the years, I heard several priests who add a word to the embolism, asking for God to protect us “from all needless anxiety.” That always gave me pause. Did these guys think that there was a kind of useful, necessary anxiety? The Church directed us to ask God to protect us from all anxiety; why qualify the kinds of anxiety?
But just as Jesus finishes this discourse about being less anxious, he moves into a lesson about being constantly vigilant. Some of the outdated references he makes to slaves and masters probably distract us from the main point. We believe that Christ will come again at the end of time, and a lot of us are very anxious about that. When will it happen? Will the world be a shambles when he comes? But Jesus’ point is very simple, and it’s not supposed to be a source of anxiety: he simply says that we should live our lives at every moment as if he were in our presence.
And you know what? Christ is present in every moment of our lives. Here at Mass, he’s present in our gathering and in the proclamation of Scripture. Theologians tell us that he’s present in my role as a priest, which still kind of freaks me out. He’s physically present, body and blood, soul and divinity, in the Eucharist. As long as we live every moment of our lives recognizing Christ’s presence, then we have no need to fear the last day.
I’m anxious about many, many things that Jesus tells me not to be anxious about. But surprisingly, for a control freak like me, I’m not too anxious about Christ’s return at the end of time. I have a whole range of other emotions thinking about that day. If, indeed, all my sins will be revealed to everyone, I will be embarrassed. When I see how heaven and salvation work, I will be astonished. But most of all, when I finally see God as God truly is, I believe that I will experience joy.
For millennia, Jews and Christians have claimed that they long to see the face of God. If we are believers, it is a disservice to the God of love to await that day with fear and trembling. Let’s keep it simple, sinners! May we continue to live our lives in joy, love, and hope.