Friday in the 22nd Week of Ordinary Time (I)
He Da Man!
Readings: Colossians 1:15-20; Psalms 100:1b-2, 3, 4, 5; Luke 5:33-39
It may just be a sign of having reached a certain age (sort of like when one starts needing reading glasses), but some time ago I began having trouble understanding some modern colloquial usages in the English language. For instance, take the phrase You da man! Or another variation: You da main man! What does it mean? Is it meant to be derogatory or a compliment? According to Wikipedia, while the term the man can be used with both good and bad connotations, in more modern usage, it can be a superlative compliment indicating that the subject is currently standing out amongst his peers even though they have (sic) no special designation or rank...
We preface our reflection today with this brief note on slang, because the phrase in question summarizes very aptly what today's readings are all about. As we have had occasion to note in the past, our daily existence in this world can be filled with much struggle. Whereas we seek tranquility and peace, we often find only pain and suffering. And, especially for us who profess belief in a God who is all-powerful and all-loving, these experiences provoke the painful and angst-filled question: why?! Why does God allow these things to happen? Various answers are possible, answers which can then become the different ways we use to cope with painful reality.
If, for example, we believe that the fault lies in us, that we suffer because we have been bad, then we may cope with the pain by remaining in a perpetual state of guilt. And we may try our best to do things to assuage our guilt, to purify ourselves, to make ourselves more worthy of God's love. Like the scribes and Pharisees of today's gospel, our whole spiritual life can centre around the pious practices -- including prayer and fasting -- that we undertake to achieve this. Or, we may also react by trying not to think too deeply, but just to focus on getting on with our lives, on moving continually from one task to another. Different though they may be, these responses are similar in that, in each of them, the focus remains only on us and on our own efforts.
But our readings today offer a radically different approach. They remind us that to the question why?! God really only offers one answer. Ultimately, for us who are Christian, Jesus is the only adequate response -- God's response -- to all the difficulties that beset us, all the questions that trouble us. For, in the beautiful words of the letter to the Colossians, in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile all things for him, making peace by the Blood of his cross through him, whether those on earth or those in heaven.
If this is true, then the Christian's first reaction to the questions that this world might provoke in us is to look to Jesus, da man. And can we not but be reminded here of that poignant scene in John 19:5? After Jesus has been scourged and mocked, Pontius Pilate exhorts the onlookers in these words: ecce homo (behold the man!). Are our readings not inviting us to do the same? Do they not invite us, in good times and in bad, to continually gaze upon Jesus, to contemplate his life, death and rising? Instead of letting Jesus be only a peripheral concern in our life, like a piece of scrap sown onto patchwork quilt, are we not being exhorted to acknowledge Jesus as da main man, the bridegroom, the one who makes all things new (see Rev. 21:5)?
How might we continue to allow Jesus to be da man for us today?
Friday, September 07, 2007
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Wednesday in the 22nd Week of Ordinary Time (I)
What We Were Sent to Do…
Readings: Colossians 1:1-8; Psalms 52:10, 11; Luke 4:38-44
Probably not too many of us will have experienced having crowds of people clamouring for our attention the way Jesus does in the gospel. We are told that at sunset all those who had friends suffering from diseases… brought them to him… And even at the crack of dawn, the crowds went to look for him… Whether it was day or night, people couldn’t seem to leave Jesus alone.
But even if we may not have to face the same crowds as Jesus did, it’s probably more than likely that each one of us will have the experience of having the various people in our lives make different demands upon us, upon our limited resources of time and energy. And one cannot meet all these demands at once. To say yes to one often means having to say no or later to another. And the simple policy of first come first served doesn’t always work either. What if the one who comes second has a more urgent need than the first? Or what if the one who comes third is a close relative? Amidst the chaos of daily living, one often has to choose among the different demands that others make upon us, as Jesus does today. How Jesus does this is instructive.
As is often highlighted in Luke’s gospel, Jesus goes to a lonely place and prays. Even (especially?) when the crowds are large and the needs are many, Jesus takes a time out. For him, prayer is clearly less of an obligation than it is a necessity. The gospel makes this clear to us because not only does it tell us about the fact that Jesus prays, but it also gives us some insight into the effect of his prayer, as well as its likely content. Jesus’ prayer helps him to decide what to do in the midst of the various demands that others are placing upon him. Finally, he decides to leave, even though the crowds urge him to stay. But what Jesus decides is probably less important than the criterion he invokes: that is what I was sent to do. In order to make a decision about how to respond to the needs of others, Jesus takes time to converse with the Father, and to recall who he is and what he was sent to do. And this time out results in a decision that is as wise as it is difficult. As a result, we see the beginnings of the process described in the first reading and that continues today: the Good News… is spreading all over the world…
In the hurly burly of our own daily existence, it is too easy to be distressed and distracted by the various demands that others place upon us. What steps do we take to recall, at least from time to time, who we are and what we were sent to do?
What We Were Sent to Do…
Readings: Colossians 1:1-8; Psalms 52:10, 11; Luke 4:38-44
Probably not too many of us will have experienced having crowds of people clamouring for our attention the way Jesus does in the gospel. We are told that at sunset all those who had friends suffering from diseases… brought them to him… And even at the crack of dawn, the crowds went to look for him… Whether it was day or night, people couldn’t seem to leave Jesus alone.
But even if we may not have to face the same crowds as Jesus did, it’s probably more than likely that each one of us will have the experience of having the various people in our lives make different demands upon us, upon our limited resources of time and energy. And one cannot meet all these demands at once. To say yes to one often means having to say no or later to another. And the simple policy of first come first served doesn’t always work either. What if the one who comes second has a more urgent need than the first? Or what if the one who comes third is a close relative? Amidst the chaos of daily living, one often has to choose among the different demands that others make upon us, as Jesus does today. How Jesus does this is instructive.
As is often highlighted in Luke’s gospel, Jesus goes to a lonely place and prays. Even (especially?) when the crowds are large and the needs are many, Jesus takes a time out. For him, prayer is clearly less of an obligation than it is a necessity. The gospel makes this clear to us because not only does it tell us about the fact that Jesus prays, but it also gives us some insight into the effect of his prayer, as well as its likely content. Jesus’ prayer helps him to decide what to do in the midst of the various demands that others are placing upon him. Finally, he decides to leave, even though the crowds urge him to stay. But what Jesus decides is probably less important than the criterion he invokes: that is what I was sent to do. In order to make a decision about how to respond to the needs of others, Jesus takes time to converse with the Father, and to recall who he is and what he was sent to do. And this time out results in a decision that is as wise as it is difficult. As a result, we see the beginnings of the process described in the first reading and that continues today: the Good News… is spreading all over the world…
In the hurly burly of our own daily existence, it is too easy to be distressed and distracted by the various demands that others place upon us. What steps do we take to recall, at least from time to time, who we are and what we were sent to do?
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Tuesday in the 22nd Week of Ordinary Time (I)
Shining to Avoid the Final Overtaking
Readings: 1 Thessalonians 5:1-6, 9-11; Psalms 27:1, 4, 13-14; Luke 4:31-37
It’s not usually a good feeling to be overtaken suddenly while driving, especially not if the culprit cuts in too close for comfort. Your heart skips a beat. You feel the impulse to slam on the brakes to avoid an accident, and perhaps even to sound the horn. But your reactions are often far too late. The cause of your distress has already sped on to who knows where, oblivious to your pounding heart and cursing lips. All you can do, as you slowly recover from the shock, is to wonder angrily to yourself why people can’t signal their intentions well in advance before filtering into another lane.
This type of experience gives us some indication of what it might feel like when the Day of the Lord comes. As Paul reminds the Thessalonians, it will be sudden and shocking, like a thief in the night, worse than being overtaken on the highway. But Paul also offers some important words of consolation. Sudden though it may be, the Lord’s second coming need not overtake us like a thief. For unlike those inconsiderate drivers who cause us so much grief on the roads, God’s intention is not to scare and harass us. In Paul’s words, God never meant us to experience the Retribution, but to win salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ…
And this insight is borne out in the gospel. Here, if there is indeed one who has the unpleasant experience of being overtaken, it’s the spirit of the unclean devil that Jesus casts out. We notice the anguished shouting: have you come to destroy us? In contrast, the possessed man benefits from Jesus’ ministry. We are told that the devil went out of him without hurting him at all. Jesus rescues the man out of darkness and brings him into the light. And this too is our experience as Christians. Again, as Paul reminds the Thessalonians, and us as well: You are sons of light and daughters of day…
If we have indeed already allowed Jesus to enlighten us, and if we continue to remain in His light, then there is no danger of being overtaken. But first, we must live like children of the light. We must allow the light that has been entrusted to us in Christ to shine out in all its brilliance, so that others too might share in the warmth of its radiance and escape the terror of that final overtaking. For the same authority that was the Lord’s, with which he impressed so many in the gospel, has also been entrusted to us (see Matthew 28:18-20).
How are we being called to shine out today?
Shining to Avoid the Final Overtaking
Readings: 1 Thessalonians 5:1-6, 9-11; Psalms 27:1, 4, 13-14; Luke 4:31-37
It’s not usually a good feeling to be overtaken suddenly while driving, especially not if the culprit cuts in too close for comfort. Your heart skips a beat. You feel the impulse to slam on the brakes to avoid an accident, and perhaps even to sound the horn. But your reactions are often far too late. The cause of your distress has already sped on to who knows where, oblivious to your pounding heart and cursing lips. All you can do, as you slowly recover from the shock, is to wonder angrily to yourself why people can’t signal their intentions well in advance before filtering into another lane.
This type of experience gives us some indication of what it might feel like when the Day of the Lord comes. As Paul reminds the Thessalonians, it will be sudden and shocking, like a thief in the night, worse than being overtaken on the highway. But Paul also offers some important words of consolation. Sudden though it may be, the Lord’s second coming need not overtake us like a thief. For unlike those inconsiderate drivers who cause us so much grief on the roads, God’s intention is not to scare and harass us. In Paul’s words, God never meant us to experience the Retribution, but to win salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ…
And this insight is borne out in the gospel. Here, if there is indeed one who has the unpleasant experience of being overtaken, it’s the spirit of the unclean devil that Jesus casts out. We notice the anguished shouting: have you come to destroy us? In contrast, the possessed man benefits from Jesus’ ministry. We are told that the devil went out of him without hurting him at all. Jesus rescues the man out of darkness and brings him into the light. And this too is our experience as Christians. Again, as Paul reminds the Thessalonians, and us as well: You are sons of light and daughters of day…
If we have indeed already allowed Jesus to enlighten us, and if we continue to remain in His light, then there is no danger of being overtaken. But first, we must live like children of the light. We must allow the light that has been entrusted to us in Christ to shine out in all its brilliance, so that others too might share in the warmth of its radiance and escape the terror of that final overtaking. For the same authority that was the Lord’s, with which he impressed so many in the gospel, has also been entrusted to us (see Matthew 28:18-20).
How are we being called to shine out today?
Monday, September 03, 2007
Monday in the 22nd Week of Ordinary Time (I)
Memorial of St. Gregory the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church
The Poverty that Accepts Good News
Readings: 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Psalms 96:1 and 3, 4-5, 11-12, 13; Luke 4:16-30
Do you want the good news first or the bad news? We’ve probably heard this question being asked either of us or of others. Whichever way it’s answered the obvious implication is that it’s easier to receive the good news than the bad. The only question is whether you wish to do the easy thing first or the difficult. But is it really that easy to accept good news? Not if today’s readings are anything to go by.
We notice that words of consolation are spoken in both readings. To the Thessalonians, Paul shares an insight into the glorious fate that awaits all those who have died in Jesus. So that instead of despairing, those left behind should comfort one another with the thought that they will all finally be reunited and will stay with the lord forever. Likewise, to the Nazarenes in the gospel, Jesus proclaims a moving passage from the prophet Isaiah (61:1ff.), one that offers good news to the poor, news of how God will free all from the bondage of sin and death, news of the Lord’s year of favour, when God will forgive all and accept all into God’s kingdom. And this proclamation comes to its climax when, after the reading, Jesus says: this text is being fulfilled today…
We don’t know for sure how Paul’s message was received. But the gospel makes it clear that Jesus’ words infuriated his listeners so much that they actually tried to kill him. Why was it so difficult for the Nazarenes to receive Jesus’ message, to accept the good news of God’s acceptance of them? Obviously, Jesus’ familiarity seems to have presented a problem. Could such an ordinary person, whose background they all knew, really be God’s messenger? Even so, it does seem that the Nazarenes would probably still have accepted Jesus if he had chosen to play by their rules, if he had spoken only about things that they wished to hear. But Jesus did otherwise. He chose instead to scandalize his listeners by speaking of a God who accepts all, Jew and Gentile alike. No special treatment for the people of Israel, let alone for the fellow townsfolk of Jesus. Aren’t these the things that made the good news so difficult to accept? Not only was the messenger too ordinary, but the scope of the message itself was also too shockingly wide to be true.
Is it any easier for us to accept the good news of Christ? Not just the good news of what God has done for us in the past or will do in the future, but also especially what God is doing today? Don’t God’s chosen messengers often seem too ordinary to be authentic? And isn’t the message of God’s merciful and compassionate acceptance of all people often too radical to accept? Could God really welcome that problematic relative, or that unreasonable boss? To receive such good news is hard. For it necessitates that we learn to accept not only the sinfulness of others, but also our own. It requires that we be ready to revise our opinions, surrender our prejudices. It means that we have to learn, in some sense, to be poor. For it is to such as these that the good news is addressed.
Which do you prefer, the good news or the bad?
Memorial of St. Gregory the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church
The Poverty that Accepts Good News
Readings: 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Psalms 96:1 and 3, 4-5, 11-12, 13; Luke 4:16-30
Do you want the good news first or the bad news? We’ve probably heard this question being asked either of us or of others. Whichever way it’s answered the obvious implication is that it’s easier to receive the good news than the bad. The only question is whether you wish to do the easy thing first or the difficult. But is it really that easy to accept good news? Not if today’s readings are anything to go by.
We notice that words of consolation are spoken in both readings. To the Thessalonians, Paul shares an insight into the glorious fate that awaits all those who have died in Jesus. So that instead of despairing, those left behind should comfort one another with the thought that they will all finally be reunited and will stay with the lord forever. Likewise, to the Nazarenes in the gospel, Jesus proclaims a moving passage from the prophet Isaiah (61:1ff.), one that offers good news to the poor, news of how God will free all from the bondage of sin and death, news of the Lord’s year of favour, when God will forgive all and accept all into God’s kingdom. And this proclamation comes to its climax when, after the reading, Jesus says: this text is being fulfilled today…
We don’t know for sure how Paul’s message was received. But the gospel makes it clear that Jesus’ words infuriated his listeners so much that they actually tried to kill him. Why was it so difficult for the Nazarenes to receive Jesus’ message, to accept the good news of God’s acceptance of them? Obviously, Jesus’ familiarity seems to have presented a problem. Could such an ordinary person, whose background they all knew, really be God’s messenger? Even so, it does seem that the Nazarenes would probably still have accepted Jesus if he had chosen to play by their rules, if he had spoken only about things that they wished to hear. But Jesus did otherwise. He chose instead to scandalize his listeners by speaking of a God who accepts all, Jew and Gentile alike. No special treatment for the people of Israel, let alone for the fellow townsfolk of Jesus. Aren’t these the things that made the good news so difficult to accept? Not only was the messenger too ordinary, but the scope of the message itself was also too shockingly wide to be true.
Is it any easier for us to accept the good news of Christ? Not just the good news of what God has done for us in the past or will do in the future, but also especially what God is doing today? Don’t God’s chosen messengers often seem too ordinary to be authentic? And isn’t the message of God’s merciful and compassionate acceptance of all people often too radical to accept? Could God really welcome that problematic relative, or that unreasonable boss? To receive such good news is hard. For it necessitates that we learn to accept not only the sinfulness of others, but also our own. It requires that we be ready to revise our opinions, surrender our prejudices. It means that we have to learn, in some sense, to be poor. For it is to such as these that the good news is addressed.
Which do you prefer, the good news or the bad?
Sunday, September 02, 2007
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)
Preparing for the Party
Readings: Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29; Psalm 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11; Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a; Luke 14:1, 7-14
Sisters and brothers, it’s quite easy to miss the point of today’s readings. Certainly, we will not be too far off the mark if we were to think that it has something to do with humility. As we heard in the first reading just now: the greater you are the more you should behave humbly. And Jesus reinforces this message in the gospel, when he speaks about the importance of taking the lowest place.
But isn’t it possible to follow Jesus’ instructions literally, but for less than honourable reasons? For example, isn’t it possible for us to choose to sit at an inconspicuous spot at a party simply because we don’t really want to talk to the other people who are there, or because we don’t want to be called upon to help in the serving? Worse still, isn’t it also possible for us to deliberately choose the lowest place only so that we can enjoy the feeling of having others see us promoted? Is this subtly manipulative sort of behaviour really what humility is all about? Or is this not rather a thinly veiled egotism, a false humility that seeks to draw attention to itself through reverse psychology?
What then is Jesus talking about? What does he mean? Here is where we need to pay attention to the setting of the gospel story. Finding himself at a party on the Sabbath day, Jesus uses what he sees in his physical surroundings to speak about spiritual realities. His words about the proper conduct at a feast are not meant to be taken literally. As the gospel tells us, they are meant as a parable.
Despite all appearances to the contrary, Jesus is not a self-help guru. He is not a writer of those ever-popular how-to books. You know, books such as that old classic: How to Win Friends and Influence People. Jesus’ concern in the gospel is not to teach his listeners how to secure places of honour for themselves at every party they attend. Instead, his desire is that everyone might be able to find a place at the most important party of all, the final wedding feast thrown in his honour in the kingdom of his Father. In the words of the second reading, this party into which Jesus is teaching his listeners to gain entry is nothing known to the senses. Instead, he is teaching them, and he is teaching us, the way to Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem where millions of angels have gathered for the festival… Jesus is teaching us how to get into the heavenly banquet.
The first thing to realize, and this is probably where humility begins, is that there is really nothing we can do to make ourselves worthy of being invited to this party. Our attendance here is a privilege that God our Divine Host delights in according us. Here, unlike even some of the major celebrations and processions in church, we don’t need to jostle with others for the best places. Neither do we need to camp out in the rain for several days to get in. For, again, as the second reading tells us, here every one of us is a first-born son and a citizen of heaven. Here we do not perfect ourselves. Here we simply need to humbly accept God’s invitation to join the ranks of the saints who have been made perfect. And Jesus teaches us the way to do this, the way to gain entry, the way to accept the invitation. We become honoured guests at this heavenly party by taking the lowest place. But what does this mean?
Again, the second reading is instructive. It tells us that this party is a celebration of a new covenant of which Jesus is the mediator. If we want to know what it means to take the lowest place, we need to look to him. We need to follow him. We need to imitate him. And, in the gospels, Jesus teaches us not only through his words but, more importantly, also through his actions. Jesus himself takes the lowest place, the place of the suffering servant. He does this by preaching and also by healing. We notice, for example, how in the passage left out of the gospel story for today, Jesus heals a man with dropsy on the Sabbath, and suffers the consequences of his actions. But even more significantly, we need to remember too that Jesus’ work of healing is only an expression of a deeper reconciliation that he is in the process of bringing about in the gospel today, and at great cost to himself. We need to remember, for example, that the gospel story takes place while Jesus is journeying to Jerusalem and all that awaits him there. So that when he speaks about taking the lowest place, Jesus is also referring to what he himself is doing. He, the beloved and only-begotten Son of the Father, humbles himself even unto death, so that we might all be granted seats of honour at his party.
How then are we to imitate Jesus? How then are we to be humble and to take the lowest place? The answer will be different for each one of us. As we said at the beginning, the first reading tells us that the greater you are, the more you should behave humbly. And Jesus gives us some indication of what this might mean in each case. One becomes an honoured guest at the final feast in the Father’s kingdom by first learning to be a good host here in this world. One must take the lowest place by serving those who are least able to return the favour. For Jesus, these are the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind… In other words, these are the people on the margins of society, the people who most need our help. Again, exactly who we help and how we help them will depend on our particular circumstances. We may be called to reach out to people as far away as Africa or as nearby as the room next door in our own home. But in each case, it will involve us learning to lower ourselves in humble service, learning to be generous hosts to those most in need, as Jesus did for our sakes.
This then, sisters and brothers, is the meaning of humility that our readings present to us today. This is the way for us to secure our respective places in the heavenly kingdom. This is what we need to do to prepare for the party.
How prepared are you?
Preparing for the Party
Readings: Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29; Psalm 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11; Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a; Luke 14:1, 7-14
Sisters and brothers, it’s quite easy to miss the point of today’s readings. Certainly, we will not be too far off the mark if we were to think that it has something to do with humility. As we heard in the first reading just now: the greater you are the more you should behave humbly. And Jesus reinforces this message in the gospel, when he speaks about the importance of taking the lowest place.
But isn’t it possible to follow Jesus’ instructions literally, but for less than honourable reasons? For example, isn’t it possible for us to choose to sit at an inconspicuous spot at a party simply because we don’t really want to talk to the other people who are there, or because we don’t want to be called upon to help in the serving? Worse still, isn’t it also possible for us to deliberately choose the lowest place only so that we can enjoy the feeling of having others see us promoted? Is this subtly manipulative sort of behaviour really what humility is all about? Or is this not rather a thinly veiled egotism, a false humility that seeks to draw attention to itself through reverse psychology?
What then is Jesus talking about? What does he mean? Here is where we need to pay attention to the setting of the gospel story. Finding himself at a party on the Sabbath day, Jesus uses what he sees in his physical surroundings to speak about spiritual realities. His words about the proper conduct at a feast are not meant to be taken literally. As the gospel tells us, they are meant as a parable.
Despite all appearances to the contrary, Jesus is not a self-help guru. He is not a writer of those ever-popular how-to books. You know, books such as that old classic: How to Win Friends and Influence People. Jesus’ concern in the gospel is not to teach his listeners how to secure places of honour for themselves at every party they attend. Instead, his desire is that everyone might be able to find a place at the most important party of all, the final wedding feast thrown in his honour in the kingdom of his Father. In the words of the second reading, this party into which Jesus is teaching his listeners to gain entry is nothing known to the senses. Instead, he is teaching them, and he is teaching us, the way to Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem where millions of angels have gathered for the festival… Jesus is teaching us how to get into the heavenly banquet.
The first thing to realize, and this is probably where humility begins, is that there is really nothing we can do to make ourselves worthy of being invited to this party. Our attendance here is a privilege that God our Divine Host delights in according us. Here, unlike even some of the major celebrations and processions in church, we don’t need to jostle with others for the best places. Neither do we need to camp out in the rain for several days to get in. For, again, as the second reading tells us, here every one of us is a first-born son and a citizen of heaven. Here we do not perfect ourselves. Here we simply need to humbly accept God’s invitation to join the ranks of the saints who have been made perfect. And Jesus teaches us the way to do this, the way to gain entry, the way to accept the invitation. We become honoured guests at this heavenly party by taking the lowest place. But what does this mean?
Again, the second reading is instructive. It tells us that this party is a celebration of a new covenant of which Jesus is the mediator. If we want to know what it means to take the lowest place, we need to look to him. We need to follow him. We need to imitate him. And, in the gospels, Jesus teaches us not only through his words but, more importantly, also through his actions. Jesus himself takes the lowest place, the place of the suffering servant. He does this by preaching and also by healing. We notice, for example, how in the passage left out of the gospel story for today, Jesus heals a man with dropsy on the Sabbath, and suffers the consequences of his actions. But even more significantly, we need to remember too that Jesus’ work of healing is only an expression of a deeper reconciliation that he is in the process of bringing about in the gospel today, and at great cost to himself. We need to remember, for example, that the gospel story takes place while Jesus is journeying to Jerusalem and all that awaits him there. So that when he speaks about taking the lowest place, Jesus is also referring to what he himself is doing. He, the beloved and only-begotten Son of the Father, humbles himself even unto death, so that we might all be granted seats of honour at his party.
How then are we to imitate Jesus? How then are we to be humble and to take the lowest place? The answer will be different for each one of us. As we said at the beginning, the first reading tells us that the greater you are, the more you should behave humbly. And Jesus gives us some indication of what this might mean in each case. One becomes an honoured guest at the final feast in the Father’s kingdom by first learning to be a good host here in this world. One must take the lowest place by serving those who are least able to return the favour. For Jesus, these are the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind… In other words, these are the people on the margins of society, the people who most need our help. Again, exactly who we help and how we help them will depend on our particular circumstances. We may be called to reach out to people as far away as Africa or as nearby as the room next door in our own home. But in each case, it will involve us learning to lower ourselves in humble service, learning to be generous hosts to those most in need, as Jesus did for our sakes.
This then, sisters and brothers, is the meaning of humility that our readings present to us today. This is the way for us to secure our respective places in the heavenly kingdom. This is what we need to do to prepare for the party.
How prepared are you?
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