Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 123

And you will say,
'We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.'
Then he will say to you,
'I do not know where you are from.
Depart from me, all you evildoers!'
And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth
when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
and all the prophets in the kingdom of God
and you yourselves cast out.

Although Jesus' warning in today’s Gospel is clearly addressed to the crowds, we cannot suppose that "the crowds" of his time were any more disturbed by his teachings or his warnings than the crowds today. The world regards prophets like Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and John the Baptists as more entertaining than troubling. You remember that Herod liked to hear John the Baptist preach despite his complaints about the governor’s incestuous marriage. Back in the seventies we sang along with Credence Clearwater Revival, Bad Moon Rising, but we never worried about it. 

The Lord warns those who read and hear the Gospel. We should pay attention and imagine Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob -- and all the prophets -- gathered into the Kingdom of God; and we should understand that we might not be admitted. God gives us everything but owes us nothing. 

The warning is "to you who hear..." If you hear this, consider yourself forewarned. If you hear and ignore it, don't think you've not been forewarned, because you were. And you're responsible for what you heard, even if you didn't want to hear it, or thought it was nonsense, or didn't believe in the messenger, or thought there is no God. It doesn't matter. The Word of God was spoken; you were forewarned; and by ignoring the message and not taking it to heart, you chose the consequences. They too were announced well in advance; and when disaster strikes you can blame no one but yourself. 

After his warnings to those who will not listen, Jesus tells us, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate...." The scriptures use the words strive and try differently. They certainly have close to the same meaning, and may substitute one another, but in the Bible striving is not quite the same as trying. 

Saint Paul issued a severe warning to those who tried:

"You are separated from Christ, you who are trying to be justified by law; you have fallen from grace." 

As a recovering Pharisee he knew the futility and vanity of trying. It was lonely, unsatisfying work with little hope of success. It offered only bragging rights to the self-righteous, even as it presumed upon the patience of a long-suffering God. 

We've all had the experience of trying too hard. With creative work like baking, painting, writing, or singing, the harder we try the worse it gets. Some people try to quit smoking; and they never do because they don’t actually quit. They only try to quit. In sports, losers try to win, winners win gracefully. They work hard but they make it look easy. 

Simone Weil, philosopher and teacher of children, wrote: “If you say to your students: “Now you must pay attention!” you’ll see them contracting their brows, holding their breath, stiffening their muscles. If after two minutes you ask what they have been paying attention to, they cannot reply. They have been concentrating on nothing. They have not been paying attention. They have been contracting their muscles….” 

“Willpower” she wrote, “has practically no place in study. Learning can only be led by desire. For there to be desire, there must be pleasure and joy in the work. Intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is as indispensable in study as breathing is in running. Where it is lacking, there are no real students. But only poor caricatures of apprentices who, at the end of their apprenticeship, would not even have a trade.”

We can say the same thing of prayer and of serving the Lord. When Jesus says, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate.” he is speaking of that desire, joy. and eagerness to follow him in the path of penance and sacrifice. There is no trying involved; trying only gets in the way. 

The spiritual masters tell us, if you’re trying to pray, you’re not praying. If you think you are praying, you are not. You’re thinking about yourself and what you're doing. Prayer is much simpler than that. As King Claudius said in the play Hamlet, “My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”

Because we love the Lord, we learn to serve the Lord as infants learn to walk; and toddlers, to run. The effort is immediately satisfied with the pleasure of doing these things. 

Our walking with the Lord, our paying attention to his presence and his word, are gratifying. And our walking with the Lord is our answer to his call. We have heard the warning; we have heard his invitation; and we go with him. 

The sacrifice is simply in letting go of everything in which God has no interest. And because he has no interest in it, we forget about it too. We call it sacrifice because it pleases God, but that sacrifice is not as hard as trying to please God. God is already pleased with us. He is happy, and deeply satisfied with what Jesus has done for us. He is not the unhappy, implacable parent many of us knew as children. 

That is why Saint Paul was so happy with his Thessalonian disciples. He knew the sins in his own heart and recognized theirs. He knew how grace had saved him from his obsessive trying; and he knew how grace had worked miracles in Thessaloniki.

  

Like him, we have watched the faith grow, flourish, and bear fruit in our courage, generosity, and fidelity. We make sacrifices for God, for one another, and for the Gospel. We hear the prophetic warnings and take them to heart. Attending Church and Mass, singing, responding, being silent: these are not entertainment for us; and they don’t have to make us feel good about ourselves. 

But we believe in the Gospel, the Word of God. That is good, and nothing but satisfying. We are a fortunate and most blessed people.