Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 91

Christ, while we were still helpless, 
yet died at the appointed time for the ungodly.
Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person,
though perhaps for a good person
one might even find courage to die.
But God proves his love for us
in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.

It's one thing to admit that I have sinned, and can be called a sinner. It's quite something else to come to terms with my helplessness in sin; that I have done it, and will do it again, and again.... And I cannot stop. 

I quit drinking some time ago. I realized I could be a drunk or a priest, but I couldn't do both. I had tried to quit before but had failed as many times. I don't think this attempt was much different. I did have a long talk with my provincial one evening. I argued that, on one particular occasion, "They made me drink." We went round and round on that. He insisted nobody makes you drink; but when he finally quit arguing and let me win the conversation, I told him I'd not drink again. And I haven't. So far. Forty-three years later. 

It might have been out of respect for my friend and superior. I studied the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, talked with close friends, and prayed on the matter; but I'd done all those things before. 

It's rather mysterious. It's one thing to do something, but how do you not do something? How do you decide that? And how do you, or anyone else, know you've decided that? You can say, "I have decided!" but we all know that doesn't make it happen. 

Apparently, at the appointed time, it happened. Perhaps I'd suffered enough remorse and humiliation. The Lord moved in my life; he heard my prayer and that of several others, and the prayers of all those long suffering souls who pray for their priests. And he made it so. 

But not without cost, "for God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." 

The sacrifice of God's Son also came at the appointed time. It could not happen at any other time or place, or to any other man. It had to be the Virgin Mary's Son, a Son of David, the only beloved Son of God the Father. In the Holy City, on that Passover weekend, in the fullness of time. 

Creatures of time, helpless in our happenstance, we pray and wait for God to act. Not knowing when he might make it so. Many of us, like Peter, would be heroes. You remember his boast,

“Even though all should have their faith shaken, mine will not be.”

Or, if not heroes, we would be different. Stronger, braver, prettier, smarter, richer, luckier. We would try harder if we tried harder. But we don't. The moment doesn't seem to come. 

Until it does, as when witnesses speak. Then they suddenly know what to say, when, and to whom. As Jesus said,

When they take you before synagogues and before rulers and authorities, do not worry about how or what your defense will be or about what you are to say. For the holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say. Luke 12:11

Sometimes we are silent; sometimes we speak out. Sometimes we leave the area, as when Jesus left Jerusalem, and away from those who would stone him. And sometimes we march with him to Jerusalem and Calvary and Easter. Neither retreat nor advance is courageous or heroic; they are simply obedient.  

It's not happenstance, fate, or karma. That’s hogwash. It's the moment when the Lord acts. He uses us as his tools. We might not feel welcome; we might be out of place; but that doesn't matter. We are his obedient servants, and we cannot do otherwise.