Tuesday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 372

Enter through the narrow gate;

for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction,

and those who enter through it are many.

How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life.

And those who find it are few."

After the death of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain, the news media is suddenly fascinated with the epidemic of suicide. They notice that this "nuclear option" has become increasingly popular and even socially acceptable among some young people. They discover suicide is more common among men than women; more frequent in American states with less gun control. Copycat suicides, like high school shootings, often take their cues from the news media.

Because the news media habitually overlooks the past, they fail to notice that human beings have always had the ability to kill themselves and have often used it. There are eight suicides in the Bible. But the media cannot address why this peculiarly unnatural act has reached epidemic proportions, more common than fatal automobile accidents, second only to alcohol and heroin overdoses.

A better understanding of this ongoing tragedy might begin with contemplation of Matthew 7:12-14 -- "Enter through the narrow gate...." The gate to life is narrow and the road constricted, as Jesus observes, and most people fail to take it. The more appealing gate is wide and the road is broad, scenic, preferred and recommended.

Six centuries before Jesus the Buddha taught that life is suffering. As obvious as that seems, the Buddhist frank acceptance of inevitable suffering signaled a new maturity for the human species.

Jesus took that insight several steps forward when he said, "Unless you take up your cross and follow daily in my steps, you cannot be my disciple."

The Wheel of Fortune is not actually a television show; it is a medieval parable about life. On that ever-turning wheel the wealthy predictably descend and the poor hopefully ascend. Families of medieval peasants, staying in one place for generations, had long memories. They kept score of aristocratic families as latter day fans track their football heroes; they remembered this poor man whose grandfather was a duke; they noticed this wealthy merchant whose ancestors were highwaymen.Medieval Europeans, deeply influenced by Christian doctrine, knew that life is often painful and disappointing and inevitably ends in death. Holy days broke up the monotony of hardscrabble farming but no one supposed their descendants should have an easier life. The "wheel of fortune,"  not hard work, determined who rose and who fell.

Skeptics today raise the same doubt about upward mobility. Do some penniless immigrants to the United States rise rapidly through various economic and social strata because they work hard? Or because they are white with academic credentials and desirable skills? Some Wall Street brokers enjoy dazzling success because they are smarter than other brokers, or just luckier? The rules dictate some will win and others will lose; perhaps the winners were chosen by random, impersonal fate. They might claim their instincts are better and their insight more perceptive but they have no more proof for that than we can prove the existence of God. Americans tell themselves many stories, especially about hard work and virtue but, as Sportin Life sang in Porgy and Bess, "It ain't necessarily so."

Without blaming anyone, I believe suicide is a symptom of a culture which refuses to accept that life is suffering. "Consumers" do not accept Jesus' invitation to "take up your cross daily." Culturally we cling to the notion that life should not be difficult, frustrating or painful. A blessed people should not have to suffer! This belief born of self-deception is more fantasy than real, and proves itself to be toxic. Because suicide thrives in the broken promises of America, anyone who promotes this false ideal is responsible for the epidemic.

Jesus invites his people to take up the cross. His invitation is made in love and with great joy because, through the cross, we know communion with our God and others. The faithful accept the limited freedom of ordinary life and the privilege of belonging to communities we have not chosen. We take full responsibility for our disabilities, illnesses and frailty. We welcome, honor and try to understand others, even those who are hostile to us. In the footsteps of Jesus we find contentment and the promise of satisfaction.

The Christian does not passively accept that life is suffering like the Buddhist; rather, we embrace the privilege of sharing in the cross of Christ.