Thursday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Jude Church, Indianapolis IN

 Lectionary: 488

None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself.
For if we live, we live for the Lord,
and if we die, we die for the Lord;
so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord's.

Saint Paul often takes me back to the basics, to the ABCs of faith. Either I live for the Lord or I have no life at all.

It seems -- and I am no one to judge -- we live in a land of ghosts, of people who think they live but do not. They think they do things, sometimes important things, that make a difference. But everything which is done without the backing and grace of God will have to be undone. At best it might be transformed, as when the crucifixion of an innocent, holy man becomes a blessing for the entire universe. Anything done contrary to God's is doomed before it begins. 

We find ourselves in relationship to the Lord. He sets us free from constricting relationships, and gives us the liberty to make a difference that blesses, and opens gates of grace, for others. It is a struggle; there's no doubt about that. 

I think of the unfortunate philosopher who, backing into a mannequin, apologized. He suddenly realized he had to live in a world with other people and all of them took space from him. All of them made demands upon him, and forced him to compromise his freedom of movement, of thought, and speech. And he resented that tremendously. If there are others in my world, he said, there shouldn't be. And if there's a God, he especially resented that! 

But we find our true existence only in relationship to others. Without the presence of others, I have no knowledge of myself and the limits of myself. The stubborn child becomes a beloved offspring upon discovering, "Mother was right and I was wrong! There are other people in my world and some of them know more than I do!" 

And we find our freedom only in the liberating knowledge of Jesus. For he gives us a purpose and sends us on a mission, as he did for Mary Magdalene when he told her to tell the disciples that he was going to the Father. Until that moment, although she knew his forgiving compassionate love and desired it with all her heart, she had no idea of her purpose in life. 

Nor did his message concern her! It was not about her happiness, or the privilege of seeing him, or about how surprised she was! Apparently the apostles didn't need to hear any of that.

The unfortunate philosopher, stumbling into a mannequin, might have laughed at his foolishness and enjoyed telling the story to others. He might have had, in that moment, at least a clue, an indication or hint, to his reason for being.