21st Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
Picture: By Tadeusz Lakota on Unsplash
My dear friends, when is an obstacle more than just an obstacle? A man once went for a stroll in the woods with his dog. As they walked together, along a narrow forest path, the dog suddenly stood very still, and blocked its owner’s way. It even started to growl when the man tried to walk past it. At first the man was puzzled. It was only later, when he spotted a poisonous snake slithering across the path, that he realised the reason for his trusty companion’s curious behaviour… Sometimes an obstacle is more than just an obstacle. It may also be a warning, a call to greater vigilance and care. Don’t we find something similar in our scriptures today?
As we may recall from previous weeks, in the gospel, Jesus has been claiming that he is the living bread which has come down from heaven, and that those who wish to enjoy the fullness of life must eat (his) flesh and drink (his) blood. In response, many of the Lord’s followers say, This is intolerable language, or, according to another translation, This is a hard saying. Hard, like a huge stone blocking our way. An irritating obstacle obstructing our path. And yet, what the Lord is offering is also a warning, a caution not to work for food that cannot last. Not to turn our appetites into idols. But to feed on and to worship instead the One True God. Like that dog on the forest path, the Lord’s teaching is an obstacle. And more than an obstacle, it’s also a call. A call to conversion.
But not just any kind of conversion. At least not the kind that may erupt on special occasions, like festive fireworks, exploding loudly and suddenly, colourfully and excitedly, only to fade away, without leaving any trace. Instead, what the Lord is asking of his followers is something more enduring and all-encompassing. Something like what Joshua is asking of the Israelites in the first reading, when he tells them to choose today whom you wish to serve. Again, more than just an obstacle, the Lord’s teaching is also a call. A call to make a lasting choice, a life-defining commitment. As for me and my House, we will serve the Lord.
And in case we may feel discouraged by how demanding this sounds, the scriptures remind us that the Lord’s apparently hard teaching actually has a tender core. The second reading invites us to ponder how lovingly Christ treats the Church. How he sacrificed himself for her to make her holy. And how, as a man feeds and looks after his own body, that is also the way Christ treats the Church, because it is his body––and we are its living parts. Unlike the idols we may be fooled into worshipping, Christ doesn’t oppress those who commit their lives to his service. Rather, he treats us as parts of his very self, mercifully showering upon us his tender loving care. Again, more than just an obstacle, the Lord’s teaching is also a call. A call to an ever more intimate communion.
An obstacle that’s more than just an obstacle, but also a call to conversion, to commitment and to communion. This is what we find in our scriptures today. And yet, it’s not always easy to see all of this at once. Especially if the obstacle we encounter is unexpected. Such as a sudden tragedy or medical emergency, a painful loss or disappointing setback. Very often, in such moments, our vision is clouded, if only for the moment. Like that man on the path, we can see the puzzling behaviour of the dog, but not yet the poisonous threat of the snake. What then are we to do?
In the gospel, we find people taking one of three courses of action. The first is desertion. We’re told that many of Jesus’ disciples left him and stopped going with him. The second is continued discipleship. Much as Peter doesn’t understand what’s going on, even though he will have to struggle to live up to his commitment, and even if he may fall short, he keeps clinging stubbornly to Jesus. Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life… The third option is much less obvious. The gospel alludes to it when it speaks of the one who would betray him. For the first two courses of action don’t quite lead to betrayal. Neither outright desertion nor struggling discipleship. No, betrayal requires a willingness to lead a double-life. A life of continual compromise. The ability to go through the motions of discipleship, while nurturing a deserter’s heart. Something that Pope Francis calls spiritual worldliness. To claim to live in the Church, while keeping and promoting the values of the world. And this requires a certain degree of secrecy. Which is perhaps why Jesus is so blunt in asking the Twelve: What about you, do you want to go away too? The Lord is offering them, and us, the precious opportunity to uncover what may be hidden, even from ourselves. To examine our hearts, and to bring our doubts and reservations to him, so that he may address them.
Sisters and brothers, through the obstacles we may meet along the path of life, how might the Lord be calling us today?