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21st Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C
August 25, 2013
Reading I: Isaiah 66:18-21
Responsorial Psalm: 117:1,2
Reading II: Hebrews 12:5-7, 11-13
Gospel: Luke 13:22-30
Jesus passed through towns and villages, teaching as he went and making his way to Jerusalem.
Someone asked him, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?”He answered them, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate,
for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.
After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door,
then will you stand outside knocking and saying,
‘Lord, open the door for us.’
He will say to you in reply, ‘I do not know where you are from.
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.
And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south
and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.
For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”
**************
Wrong question - again!
Another paradox. How do we unlock this one? We've all been there, swept slowly forward by the crowd inching its way through the main doors of the church or the football stadium, watching ones and twos and small groups going off to the side and slipping in quickly through a narrow door: no waiting.
What does it take? A password? A special ticket? Do you have to be an 'official' or a player?
What was the question again? "Will only a few be saved?" What sort of a question is that? Does it come from a little wheedling bloke that wants assurance to overcome his insecurity? Or is it a bean counter, a stats man, who likes to know the ratios and work out the probabilities? Maybe an insurance actuary. Or a social analyst who studies trends? Or a philosopher trying to work out what we have to be saved from to have a happy outcome to life's uneven journey. Or, god help us, a theologian who is trying to decide whether god is fair or as capricious as the wind.
Jesus doesn't answer the question, of course. In fact there is no answer because it is the wrong question - again. If you were seriously interested in a personal way you'd have asked, as that rich man asked: Lord, what do I need to do to enter? Personal, concrete and sincere.
The narrow gate image doesn't really tell us much today. I don't think Jesus was saying you have to have the password, or the membership card. I think the narrow gate in those old cities was perhaps an entrance that was pretty hard to reach. You probably had to be athletic enough to climb up, perhaps negotiate a narrow ledge, and slim enough to slip through. Let's change the stage setting.
We are in a cricket club. (I imagine that a baseball club will be pretty much the same.) It's a community club, with teams in A Grade, B Grade and C Grade, and there are the 1sts, the 2nds and the 3rds, all playing competition. That's six teams, upwards of 80 to 100 players all in. Now some young man newly enrolled comes up and asks the Assistant Coach: Do we all get a game?
Wrong question! The assistant coach looks him up and down and wonders what he's after. Is he a born loser, hoping to scrape in on the tail end? Has he got tickets on himself, trying to work out who's the one to suck up to? "Will only a few get a game?" He should have asked: "What do I need to do to make sure I get a game eventually?" How would the coach answer that?
"Look," he'd say. "The thing is, you've got to put your heart into it. Don't imagine you'll get anywhere if you just let yourself be carried along by the crowd. In this field, you've got to specialise. Find out what you're good at - get some advice on that, and then work at it. It might be batting. It might be as bowler (pitcher). Or even close-in fielding. Now and then we find someone who's a wizard behind the wickets (catcher). Narrow your focus. Don't just drift. Develop your skills. As you get better at it you'll find it pushes you along. You get ambition to be the best you can be in your speciality. And you won't worry about how many others get in or get left out. It's not an issue."
*****
Specialise. You imagine it's enough to go along doing what everyone is doing, Mr, Mrs, Ms Average, and that'll get you a seat at the table? You're in for a surprise, mate. They're going to come from over the road, and from down the hill and from across the wrong side of town and they're going to get a seat, and when you drift along, late as usual, presuming to have yours reserved as always, you'll find yourself locked out. Wake up to yourself. There's no free ride to anywhere.
The notion of specialising has two sides to it. One is the sharper focus that generates enthusiasm. The other is about the different needs and aptitudes of people. Variety is everywhere in nature. In fact monoculture in growing food can be counter-productive. So too in people, and in the spiritual life. Variety used to be one of the strengths of Catholicism. While the Jews at the time of Jesus demanded uniform fulfilment of numerous practices 'according to the Law', and while puritans saw salvation to be secured by living untarnished by worldly desires, Catholicism provided a wide spectrum of forms, rituals and devotions, catering perhaps for the unruly mass of humanity as it is.
In an ordinary parish you could choose between, for example, St Vinnies, or the Holy Name sodality, or you could wear a scapular, or make the Nine First Fridays over and over. In the renewal following Vatican II much of this variety was lost as community participation in the liturgy was encouraged to the exclusion of nearly everything else. Some people have been discouraged by this change, and it is important to listen to their complaint. Perhaps the blunt thoughts of the coach need to be balanced with a more gentle investigation of what it means to 'specialise' in our current circumstances. This might be the place, then, to invite readers to contribute ideas from their own experience or to give voice to their needs, or what they'd like to see happen.
As the parallel scenario of the young hopeful in the cricket club might make self-evident, this bit of the gospel is no big deal, no great mystery, no insoluble conundrum. It's just a blunt message to every one of us slogging along the muddy road. Keep your eye on the goal up ahead, and do what it takes.
It's a personal thing, first and foremost. Are you on fire, enthusiastic, or have you got a chip on your shoulder? Are you still whinging about how unfair life is? Jesus treated the whingers and moaners pretty bluntly all through; the suckers too. Remember those two brothers... And that story about the kids complaining to their playmates across the street: "We played but you wouldn't dance to our tunes!" Boo-hoo.
Is there a message for the church, for the elders, for the hierarchy too? Maybe a warning against counting your membership like the farmer counted on the many tons of grain stored in his barn. Maybe a warning not to print your own Members Tickets and guarantee your faithful that they'll always be valid at the door. It ain't like that. Even some who are first will be last - not a place you're used to!