Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A
This past Friday, Apple released the latest version of the iPhone, and while the response and reaction has been mixed, there was one thing in this process that has become a standard part of releasing any new technological gadget – the overnight lines. Whether it’s a new cell phone or the latest gaming system, - or even tickets to a hit concert or last year’s release of the final Harry Potter book – it has now become the norm for people to camp out in front of stores hours – and sometimes even days – before a new product is released so that they are among the first people to get their new toy. Now, it’s true that there are just as many people out there who think that these overnight-consumer-campers are crazy; but we have to admit that it’s become an intrinsic part of our consumer landscape – I want whatever the new thing is, and I want it now. Instant gratification, which makes it so hard to wait for anything. And that makes St. Paul and our Christian faith such a hard sell.
Because, in many ways, being a Christian is about waiting. Part of following Christ is about looking back – back to our creation in God’s image, to our sinful fall, and to the birth, death, and resurrection of the Son of God. But it’s just as important for us to look forward – to wait for what is to come, for “the glory that is to be revealed for us” (Romans 8.18). And a big part of that waiting has to do with suffering. We don’t need to be reminded that our lives are tied up in suffering – whether it’s the physical pain of illness, or the emotional pain of failed dreams or broken relationships. Our lives are marked by suffering. St. Paul knows that suffering very well – not only was he imprisoned and shipwrecked multiple times, he was alienated from many of his close associates and lost as many arguments about Christ as he won. What he tries to remind us today, though, is that suffering is not the end of the story – and, even more, suffering is not the heart of the story. Whatever we suffer now – and we certainly do suffer much – that suffering is nothing compared to what is to come, compared to the glory of heaven. St. Teresa of Avila put it this way – she said that “from heaven, the most miserable earthly life will look like one bad night in an inconvenient hotel!” (Quoted in Peter Kreeft, Making Sense Out of Suffering, p. 139) Our suffering is real. But the promise of glory, of life with God, is also real. And there is no comparison between the two.
But we’re not there yet – for now, we wait – with “eager expection” (Romans 8.19) we “groan within ourselves” (Romans 8.23) and we wait. But not without purpose. Our lives are not just a living airport, where we sit around and wait for our heaven-bound plane to take off, perhaps reading a magazine, grabbing a bite to eat, chatting with our neighbors. If we are just waiting for the trip to heaven, then this life would be completely meaningless – and God certainly did not put us on earth to live meaningless lives. So why are we here? What are we supposed to do on this side of heaven? Do we just enjoy the latest cell phone and waste away our lives by fulfilling every possible desire? No – our call in this life is to guide one another to God, to lead each other to the glory of heaven. Just look around – there are empty spaces here; there are countless people who do not know God, who don’t have a clue about the glory that will conquer all our suffering, who have no idea that God became one of us so that he could suffer and die like and so that he could rise from the dead and lead us to eternal life. We are waiting for the glory of heaven, but there is a world out there that is doing nothing more than waiting in line for the latest cell phone. What are we supposed to do on this side of heaven? Our call – our vocation as God’s people – is to lead one another to glory, to help each other get to heaven, where life conquers death and glory conquers suffering. Then, when we’re all together, we shall truly be home.
*** The final paragraph of this homily is endebted to C.S. Lewis’ sermon, “The Weight of Glory.”***
1 comment:
This homily makes me ponder the truth of how the world seduces us into believing that happiness comes from things, and the more we have, the happier we will be. Things might buy momentary pleasure, but that's all. True happiness lies in our relationship with Jesus and one another. C.S. Lewis's sermon can be read on-line. If you have never read it, take a few minutes and read it, then go back and ponder Father Eric's homily. There is a lot of food for thought.
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