Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 124 

"Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself,
take up his cross, and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?

As summer, with its light clothing and casual style, comes to an end, and the more demanding weather of autumn and winter approaches, the Gospel invites us to remember the Way that Jesus sets before his disciples. It is a way of sacrifice, and is sometimes experienced as the way of the cross. If we're disappointed by that, we should not be surprised. 

Faith teaches us to expect both the eternal bliss of heaven and the endless daily duties of this world. We may be entertained by fantasies about streets of gold or endless high school reunions, but we perfect our souls and exercise our minds with the continual practice of faith. Even prayer requires time, discipline, and focus. Although it refreshes us and may feel like leisure, worship is nonetheless a demanding privilege that must not be neglected. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; the Father of Jesus is a jealous God. 

The Calvinist strain of our religion, which leaked into Catholicism through the Jansenists, helpfully reminds us that All is grace and God owes us nothing. Aware of that second principle, we don't appeal to the entitlements that others claim for themselves. As the Lord says in Luke 12:48

Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.

Everything we have and have been and might be and are -- is grace. I took a course in yoga several years ago. Although I have not pursued the study, I have not forgotten the simple experience of mindfully breathing, standing, or walking. What a pleasure it is to breathe. As a chaplain in the VA hospital, I saw patients die of COPD. They told me to thank God I can breathe. When I hear a buddy of mine coming with his noisy, raspy breathing, I say a prayer for everyone who smokes tobacco, marijuana, or crack.   

Each morning I do some simple exercises to strengthen the muscles, lubricate the joints, and unravel the sinews. I have to persuade my body that I am not really 74.9 years old. Rising from the floor, I say, "Hah! I can still do that!" Who knows how much longer? 

Walking too is a singular privilege. especially as I must carry my head upright without hunching the shoulders. The synchronized swing of arms and legs is fascinating and delightful. And it's all grace. Throw in a cup of tea and a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and I am ready to give back. I might even take on some toil without complaint. (Is there any good work which does require toil?)

As autumn approaches, we approach our responsibilities with a grateful sense of obedience. Having been through many transitions between assignments and positions, just knowing what I should do and what is expected of me makes the work so much easier. 

Routine is also a blessing, a gift of grace, as the daily recital newscasts of catastrophes reminds me. On any day, and at any time, something awful could happen. Thank God it has not happened yet today. 

Jesus insists that we take up our crosses each day. If we do so, we'll be more ready spiritually, psychologically, and physically, in those dark nights of the soul when they become particularly heavy.