Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 136

Jesus said to them, "Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.
When John came to you in the way of righteousness,
you did not believe him;
but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him."

Today's gospel challenges the easy assumption of those who suppose they know the mind of God. They've lived a good life, have no major regrets, and are not shaken by the prospect of death. They've seen loved ones pass on. I meet Veterans who have encountered death in combat, both their own and that of others. Confronted with mortality and having no more worlds to conquer, feeling less and less at home in a once-familiar home, they welcome death. Assured of  anti-anxiety medicines and powerful painkillers, it is nothing worse than turning out the lights, a sleep with no expectation of waking. 

They have no fear of the Lord. They say, "If there is a judge, I've got nothing to be ashamed of." 

We might suppose the second son in today's gospel story felt that way about his relationship to the father. He had said he would go into the vineyard but he didn't. Never mind. The old man will get over it. If the first son was more obedient, he'd also reacted insolently. He's the one society detests. 

The story is familiar to us because image is still more important than reality. Whenever there's a catastrophe people and nations rush forward with promises of help. They make quite a show of it. But the news cycle soon forgets the crisis as it rushes on to others, and the promises are given to financial departments with their limited budgets. 

"The Lord's way is not fair!" Where does that come from? Who would make such a remark and why? It seems to come from the far side of the future, after a decision has been made -- what grammarians call the "future perfect tense" -- when someone who now expects a blessing will be disappointed. A secular, complaisant society cannot imagine making such a protest. "If there is a God," they think, "he'll be good to me."

They rely on their image. They're like the fellow who ran a traffic light and was pulled over. "But what about all the times I stopped for a red light!"  or the murderer who pleads, "Look at all the people I didn't kill! Doesn't that count for something?" 

Actually -- no. 

Thomas Merton once declared, "God does not hear the prayers of those who don't exist." He doesn't see our images; he sees us. He doesn't judge us by our standards but by his own. As the Prophet Isaiah says,

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts." 

Today's first reading, which should be familiar to us from the Good Friday Liturgy, reminds us of the Obedient Son who fears the Lord and walks in his way. Abandoning the privilege, security, and luxuries of heaven, he considered equality with God as so much rubbish; it was not "something to be grasped." Rather, he emptied himself. He had an ego like every human being but before the majesty of God it meant nothing. He was poured out like an emptied vessel -- drained of blood, water, and breath -- because his Father willed it. He could think of nothing better to do with his life. 

To this day we place before our eyes the image of a god destroyed, and worship him.