Saturday of the Thirty-second Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 496

The Lord said, "Pay attention to what the dishonest judge says. Will not God then secure the rights of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night? Will he be slow to answer them? I tell you, he will see to it that justice is done for them speedily.
But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?"


This story of the wicked judge and the importunate widow calls for continual, urgent prayer, "day and night." Enthusiastic preachers who push that on their congregations might enjoy a spirited response for a week or two, but the fervor will fade soon enough. The history of Christianity in the United States must include the Great Awakenings and the Burned-over districts. There are strains of Christianity that regard enthusiasm as a spiritual plague, and ardor as abhorrent.
So how do we practice that faithful prayer that continually cries to heaven for mercy without wearing out too soon, or going bananas? Saint Theresa of Avila taught her disciples to build the fire of prayer slowly. You don't throw a log onto burning kindling and expect it to catch. A fire is built with kindling, then twigs, then sticks, and finally logs. Built well, its embers will last throughout the night. 

The novice might be eager to spend many hours in the chapel, but she will soon tire of it. Teach her to channel her energies into work and study, prayer and rest. Let her learn the routines of the convent with its drudgeries, boredom and monotony. Let her be profoundly disappointed with herself as she suffers resentment against deceptive leaders and crotchety women. And then help her to build a fire from kindling.

On All Souls Day I came across this sentence in the Office of Readings:

Without the assistance of grace, immortality is more of a burden than a blessing. (Saint Ambrose, died 397 a.d.)

We are preparing for life in eternity; and we should plan to burn in love. We're often told "You can't take it with you;" meaning, this world's goods. But some of us are preparing to take other baggage. Resentments, suspicions, opinions: they are too dear to surrender in this world. 

Do we expect to leave these treasures at the mouth of the grave? As if I will not be the same person in eternity as I am here? As if the Lord will take from me what I have never let him touch before. As if I will be purged of certain undesirable traits and I will readily consent to that painful, humiliating procedure -- then! But not now, not today.  

I don't think so.
Saint Ambrose urges us to allow grace to cleanse, purify, and purge us of these pernicious possessions while we have time. 

Those prepared for the purgation of death by continually dying to themselves will find the transition fairly easy. Jesus was only three days in the tomb! The rest of us may need more time. 

The importunate widow teaches us to persist in this humiliating, blessed journey toward worthiness. It's not easy; it's not supposed to be easy. Now, or in eternity. With the assistance of grace, the challenge of immortality will be delightful.