Saturday, August 31, 2019

Saturday of the Twenty-first Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 430

Master, I knew you were a demanding person, harvesting where you did not plant
and gathering where you did not scatter;
so out of fear I went off and buried your talent in the ground. Here it is back.'



I have been thinking lately of "the fear of the Lord." "Fear" appears in today's parable as the fool returns the worm-eaten sack of coins to his master. 
The God who would demand of Abraham the sacrifice of "your only son, whom you love" is surely a fearful God. 
Abraham could not forget what had happen to Sodom and Gomorrah. He had shuddered at the sight of a pillar of smoke rising from the incinerated cities. When the same God made an insane demand, Abraham acquiesced. He had little choice. 
But with the ascent of Mount Moriah, the stone altar, the fire, the knife, and the child -- his sole heir -- tied and bound on the altar, he had clearly surrendered to a God whom he believed -- and we believe -- deserved such devotion. 
For the Lord finally proved both his fearfulness and his worthiness in sacrificing His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, for our salvation. Clearly we must approach such a divinity with fear and trembling. 
Oddly, the insolent servant in today's parable, even as he says, "I knew you were a demanding person..." behaves with anything but fearful deference. He seems to dare the master to punish him. Which he does severely. 
The master can only cite the fool's words, "you knew that I harvest where I did not plant
and gather where I did not scatter." before pronouncing a dreadful sentence. 
God's holy people experience both dread and delight in God's presence. We know our unworthiness, especially in the presence of such goodness. And we know we cannot, dare not, refuse the invitation to come and worship the Lord. In so doing we find reassurance and delight. Our sins are forgiven and forgotten because the Lord looks not at them. 
The scriptural doctrine of the Fear of the Lord reminds us that we must give our all to the Lord. This complete surrender in love and trust is quite simply the only way of salvation. There are no shortcuts around it. 
However, the Church permits us to imagine a kind of backdoor into heaven. That is, if our lives in the end do not measure up to God's demand, the not-quite-worthy may be allowed time in Purgatory to complete their penances. 
But that doctrine reinforces the simple truth, God cannot save us without our complete, trusting, unconditional surrender. 
It's not a matter of whether God would condemn anyone to an eternity in hell. It's not that God is so mean spirited. Rather, our human dignity, made as we are in the image and likeness of God, can be satisfied with nothing less than total oblation, a holocaust of self-sacrifice with nothing left. 
Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac was a type of the holocaust which Jesus would offer, when the last drops of blood and water flowed from his body and he surrendered his spirit. Neither the Father, nor the Son, nor the Spirit, nor God's people could be satisfied with anything less. 
A fearful prospect indeed. 

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.