But whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ. More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.
Jesus's parable echoes Saint Paul's disavowing the gains he had as a Pharisaic Jew. The good shepherd abandons his treasure, the ninety-nine who herd together and do not stray, and goes in search of the lost, marginalized sheep.
Saint Paul does as his master. Where Jesus abandoned the security and comfort of heaven, and his astounding prestige as the Son of God, to be born of Mary in poverty, and then to renounce even the rightful dignity he had as a human being to be crucified, Saint Paul walked away from his secure place in the party of separation, the Pharisees. He lived by faith and found earthly assurance only among those who also abandoned their former securities to join him in the worship of Jesus.
This way of life appears foolish to the wise and scandalous to the pious. It certainly embraces the anxiety of freedom. We have set out to trust and believe in our Good Shepherd. We follow him into that dark Cloud of Unknowing which leads to an uncertain future.
But even as it appears to be a liberal approach to life, the Way of Jesus and Saint Paul embraces and conserves the treasures of the past. As we read in Saint Matthew:
“Then every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.”
No one can know Jesus, Mary, or the Saints who has not studied the Old Testament. Our roots include the priesthood according to the rite of Melchizedek, that shadowy prehistoric figure who appears in Genesis without ancestry or descendents. It flourishes today in the priesthood which Jesus established for his Church.
Even during this anthropocene, post-Christian, Einsteinian, computer age of ecological degradation, mass migration, instant communication, rapid travel, social media and settlements in orbit around the Earth, the Church sings the psalms of David, ponders the Law of Moses, and invokes the spirit of the Hebrew prophets and sages. This ancient religion provides a light for our path.
In his latest encyclical, Fratelli Tutti ("Brothers All"), Pope Francis reminds us that the way forward is compassion for the least among us, greater trust in our common humanity, and eager willingness to meet one another face to face. We must search for our common humanity even as our devices isolate us from one another. He invokes his patron Saint Francis who blessed all those who love their brother and sister as much when they are far away as when they are with them.
If this revolutionary social media is to work effectively, it will require long pauses, deep silence, and profound reverence for one another even as we are separated by thousands of miles. Rapid, inexpensive communication allows us to listen, wait, and relax in one another's presence. Our communion through the Internet must be as palpable as the Holy Spirit.
Without that Spirit, our gain will be so much trash, and necessarily discarded. Saint Matthew's scribe does not hoard worthless stuff. The Good Shepherd teaches us to listen, pay attention, and see the lost. We will invite them back to communion in the Lord.
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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.