Claiming Your Free Upgrade

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: 2 Kings 5:14-17; Psalm 97:1-4; 2 Timothy 2:8-13; Luke 17:11-19

Picture: cc Jack Zalium

Sisters and brothers, have you ever received a free upgrade? Some days ago, I went to a local coffee-shop and ordered myself a small cup of tea. But it happened that the shop was having a promotion. So, even though I had asked for a small cup, my order was upgraded to a large one. And at no extra charge. I got a free upgrade. It was a pleasant surprise. More tea for me. And for the same fee.

But still, as free upgrades go, that’s a very minor one. I’m sure at least some of us here have received far more major upgrades than that, right? How about airline upgrades, for example. You know how you may book an Economy seat on an airplane. But when you get to the airport, you’re thrilled to discover that the airline has given you a seat in Business, or even in First Class, instead. And at no extra charge. Now that’s pretty major, don’t you think? I haven’t experienced it myself. But I can imagine how happy I would be to receive an upgrade like that. And what a pity it would be if I was chosen for such an upgrade but, for some reason, were to fail to take advantage of it. Imagine spending a whole long-haul flight crammed elbow to elbow in Economy, when I could be lounging in comfort in First Class. And all because I didn’t realise that I was being upgraded.

The joy of receiving a free upgrade. And the sorrow of wasting it. Sisters and brothers, as strange as it may sound, this is what I think our Mass readings are inviting us to consider today. I say it may sound strange, because, at first glance, our readings appear to be only about people being healed of their leprosy. Nothing more. In the first reading, there is one leper who is cleansed. And, in the gospel, there are ten. But, when we look more closely, we discover something else. In addition to cleansing, our readings also speak to us about salvation. In our response to the psalm just now, for example, we proclaimed that the Lord has shown his salvation to the nations.

But salvation is a very big word. We hear it and perhaps even use it often enough. But what does it actually mean? How does God save us? How does God show us his salvation? We find a clue in the second reading, where St. Paul writes about the salvation that is in Christ Jesus and the eternal glory that comes with it. This makes things a little clearer for us. To be saved is not just to be healed of our illnesses. Even a terrible disease like leprosy. Salvation is something much more. To receive salvation is nothing less than to enjoy eternal glory in God. It is to experience the fullness of life that comes from knowing God. The same God who has come among us in Christ Jesus our Lord. The same Lord, who shows us how much God loves us. Even to the extent of laying down his own life for us. And while we were still sinners.

If all this is true, sisters and brothers–if salvation consists in knowing God, in entering into, and nurturing, an intimate relationship with God–then we can understand a little better what is happening to those lepers in our readings today. In the first reading, Naaman the Syrian has travelled all the way to Israel, to beg the prophet Elisha to heal him of his leprosy. And he gets what he asks for. He is cleansed of his disease. But that’s not all. In addition, Naaman also receives something far more significant. Notice what he tells Elisha after he is cleansed: Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel. In addition to being cleansed, Naaman also comes to know the One True God. He receives salvation. The leper had asked only for a healing. But God gives him something more. God heals him and grants him eternal life. Eternal salvation. Now that, sisters and brothers, is a major upgrade. Don’t you think?

But not all lepers who are cleansed receive the same free upgrade. In the gospel, even though all ten lepers are healed, it is only the Samaritan who hears Jesus say to him, your faith has saved you. Ten lepers are cleansed. But only one is saved. Only one receives the free upgrade. Why? Is it because God is very selective? Offering the upgrade to some and not to others? Probably not. More likely, God does offer salvation to the others as well. But they just fail to take advantage of it. They are happy to settle for the exact thing they were asking for. And nothing more. They don’t realise that God is offering them something far more significant. Something far more important. Isn’t this why, when the Samaritan leper returns to thank him, Jesus laments the absence of the others? Were not all ten made clean? Weren’t all ten offered the same free upgrade? The other nine, where are they? What a pity. They could have enjoyed eternal salvation. They could have travelled First Class. But they missed their chance.

And what about us, sisters and brothers. We may not be lepers. We may not have been healed of incurable or chronic diseases. But isn’t it true that all of us have received, and continue to receive, many blessings from God? Many of these blessings we may even have prayed for specifically. And others, God has just seen fit to shower upon us without us even asking. Blessings such as our very existence. The fact that we are alive. The fact that we have people who care for us. The fact that we have been baptised into the faith. And belong to this community. The fact that we live in a place like Singapore. Where we can gather freely to worship in public.

Sisters and brothers, whether we care to admit or not, like those lepers in our readings today, we too have received many gifts from God. And could it be that, in each and every one of these gifts, God is actually offering to us the very same thing that was offered to the lepers? A free upgrade from temporal blessings to eternal salvation. The opportunity to enjoy an intimate relationship with a loving and compassionate God. A God who has come near to us especially in Christ Jesus our Lord. But what do we have to do to claim this free upgrade for ourselves? Our readings offer us some suggestions.

The first is gratitude. Notice how both the Syrian and the Samaritan  come to be saved. In contrast to the other nine lepers, who care only about claiming their own healing. The two foreigners are somehow able, even in the excitement of realising that they have been cleansed, also to spare a thought for the One who had cleansed them. They have the presence of mind to consider not just the precious gift they have received, but also, more importantly, the generous Giver from whom they have received it. And this gratitude leads them to do a second thing. They are each moved to worship God. In the gospel, we’re told that the Samaritan turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. And, in the first reading, the Syrian tells Elisha that he will no longer offer holocaust or sacrifice to any god except the Lord.

But that’s not all. In addition to gratitude and worship, our readings offer us one other suggestion for claiming the gift of salvation. We find it in the second reading. Where St. Paul speaks about his willingness to bear all manner of hardships. Even to the extent of being chained. Only so that he can proclaim God’s good news of salvation to all. What is Paul writing about, sisters and brothers, if not his eagerness to walk the same road that Jesus walked. Remember how the gospel today begins by telling us that Jesus was on the way to Jerusalem. He was walking the Way of the Cross. And Paul is following him. As His disciple.

Gratitude, worship and discipleship. These, sisters and brothers, are the three necessary steps that we need to take to receive the gift of salvation. To accept the intimate hand of friendship that God continues to offer us in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Sisters and brothers, what do you need to do to claim your free upgrade today?

No Ordinary Battery Lasts Like It

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Habakkuk 1:2-3,2:2-4; Psalm 94:1-2,6-9; 2 Timothy 1:6-8,13-14; Luke 17:5-10

Sisters and brothers, do any of you still remember the Duracell Bunny? Those who do will know that I’m referring to that series of TV commercials for Duracell batteries. Which continued to air perhaps right into the ninety nineties. You can probably find some of them on YouTube. If you’re interested. As you may recall, each of these commercials features the exploits of an electrical toy bunny.

In an early version of the commercial, the action begins with the camera focused on a whole bunch of bunnies. Each one vigorously beating a drum. But then, as time goes on, one by one, each of the bunnies gradually starts slowing down. Until, finally, all have come to a halt. Have stopped beating their respective drums. All, that is, except one. Even though the other bunnies have run out of steam, one among them continues to beat its drum with the same enthusiasm as when it started. Even though all others have given up for sheer exhaustion, one bunny still appears as cheerfully energetic as ever. At this point, the camera shifts its focus to give us a close-up of the single remaining active bunny. Only to reveal the secret to its remarkable endurance. The key to its impressive staying power. Duracell, no ordinary battery looks like it or lasts like it.

Extraordinary power that keeps you going, even when all others have run out of steam. This too, sisters and brothers, is what we find in our readings today. The first reading is set in a very dark time in the history of the people of Judah. A new political power is rising. The kingdom of Babylon is flexing its military muscle. Imposing its might on smaller weaker kingdoms. Bullying them into submission. It won’t be long before Judah is overcome as well. Faced with impending doom, the prophet Habakkuk’s trust in God appears to waver. In his distress, he asks two very relevant, very poignant, questions: How long am I to cry for help and you will not listen? Why do you see such tyranny and will not save? ... How long? And Why? Perhaps, sisters and brothers, more likely than not, we too have asked these questions of God before. Especially during dark moments in our own lives. When we have felt our energy starting to wane. Our trust in God beginning to wear thin. Why, Lord? … How long?

But consider God’s response. Notice how God doesn’t answer the questions directly. God doesn’t indicate how long or why. Instead God makes a sharp distinction between two kinds of people. Each one relying on a particular kind of power. See how he flags, he whose soul is not at rights, God says. But the upright man will live by his faithfulness. When times are dark, there are those who easily give up hope. Those who run out of steam more quickly. Much like the bunnies powered by ordinary batteries in the commercial. These people give up, because their souls are not at rights. They are powered by ordinary motivations and energies. Motivations like self-interest and self-promotion, for example. Energies rooted not in God, but in themselves. In their own plans and resources. When the going gets tough, these people very soon find their energy flagging.

In contrast, it is the upright person who remains steadfastly faithful. Who keeps trusting in God. Who continues to insist on living a God-centred life. Even when it seems like there is no good practical reason to do so. Even when everyone else has already given up worshipping the one true God. Has turned instead to other lesser gods. False gods. Like money. Or fame. Not unlike the Duracell bunny beating its drum, the upright person is able to keep bearing witness to God. All because s/he is running on an extraordinary battery. Tapping into an awesome power. Faith in God. No ordinary battery lasts like it.

But that’s not all. Our readings for today actually go beyond the Duracell commercial. And in at least two ways. The commercial only compares different kinds of power. The ordinary with the extraordinary. The normal carbon cell with Duracell. Our readings go further. They tell us how this extraordinary power–this faith in God–works. They also show us what we can do to tap into it. In the first reading, God tells Habakkuk about a new vision that the prophet is supposed to write down. A new promise, for the fulfilment of which the prophet is supposed to wait patiently. Even if it comes slowly, wait, God says, for come it will, without fail.

This attitude of patient waiting–an attitude rooted in faithfulness to God–is also something that Jesus encourages his disciples to cultivate in the gospel. After speaking about the awesome power of faith–a tiny amount of which is potent enough even to transplant a mulberry tree from the land into the sea–Jesus goes on to describe the new attitude that characterises those who have such faith. Instead of acting like wealthy patrons in a classy restaurant. Who expect to have their every need and demand satisfied without the slightest delay. The true disciples of Christ see themselves as servants, humbly waiting upon their God. Trusting that their Master will feed them in due time. Feed them not just with food for their bellies. But also with answers to the questions that arise in their hearts. Questions often posed by the darkness of life. Questions like Why? And How long?

This then, sisters and brothers, is how the power of faith works. By giving us a new vision. By helping us cultivate a new attitude. A vision and an attitude of selfless service. Of God-centred devotion. But how do we tap into this power? Quite unlike Duracell batteries, this is not something that we can obtain on our own. Not something we can buy from the neighbourhood 7-Eleven. Rather, this power is a gift from God that we need humbly to receive and to nurture. The same gift that St. Paul is telling Timothy about in the second reading. I am reminding you to fan into a flame the gift that God gave you when I laid my hands on you.

This precious gift that Timothy received–this spirit of power and love and self-control–has also already been given to us at our Baptism. And we tap into this gift–we fan it into flame–by keeping our attention fixed, above all, on the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The same faith and love that we are celebrating in this Eucharist. For ultimately, it is Jesus himself who is the true Vision of God. It is He who teaches us, by example, the new Attitude of service. He who came to serve and not to be served. To give his life as a ransom for many. For you. For me. For all. It is only to the extent that we allow ourselves truly to receive of this love. Deeply to be moved by this service. That we will then be able continually to access the awesome power of this faith. Even and especially in the midst of darkness.

Sisters and brothers, it’s very difficult to deny that we live in a dark world. A world dominated no longer by the ancient power of Babylon. But by a modern global capitalistic economy gone wild. A world where hundreds of African migrants willingly cram themselves into an overcrowded boat. In search of a better future in Europe. Only to end up being lost at sea. In a world such as this, it remains an urgent challenge for us Christians to continue beating the drum of faith. To continue bearing witness to the Gospel of Christ. The Good News of justice and of peace. A witness we can continue to bear only by first tapping into the faith and love that is in Christ Jesus. For there is no ordinary power that lasts like it.

Sisters and brothers, how are you being called to keep beating the drum of faith? What battery are you running on today?

From Grave-Diggers to Gulf-Bridgers (Rerun)

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Amos 6:1a, 4-7; Psalm 146:7, 8-9a, 9b-10; 1 Timothy 6:11-16; Luke 16:19-31 

Picture: cc Rusty Clark

Sisters and brothers, you’ve probably heard the expression digging your own grave, right? When we say that someone is digging his own grave we don’t usually mean it literally. What we mean is that that person is doing something intending to benefit himself, but then ends up causing himself greater suffering instead. I came across a rather amusing example of this in a BBC news report some years ago. A man in the United States had been stealing from a local department store. Shoplifting. Then, to avoid getting caught, he jumped into a dumpster–a huge rubbish bin–at the back of the store. Unfortunately for him, the garbage collectors happened by just at that very moment. And the guy found himself trapped in the garbage truck. Luckily he had his cellphone with him. Which he used to contact a friend. Who then called the police. Eventually, they managed to get him out of the truck. But not before he had undergone a considerable amount of suffering. A police spokesperson had this to say about our dumpster diver: (When we found him) he was in a lot of pain. He had been compacted several times. He was just begging us to empty the truck...

The news report does not tell us what the shoplifter’s exact intentions were. But it’s likely that he stole from the store because he was looking for a more comfortable life. And he then jumped into the dumpster in search of safety and security. He was trying to evade the police. To escape arrest. He did all these things for his own benefit. But he ended up causing himself greater pain and suffering instead. What we have here, sisters and brothers, is a classic case of someone who unwittingly dug his own grave. Thankfully for him, people were able to come to his rescue before it was too late.

The rich man in our gospel parable today is not so lucky. After his death, he finds himself trapped and undergoing great suffering. Not in a garbage truck, but in the fires of Hell. And, like our shoplifter, he cries out for help. Unfortunately for him, it’s too late for anyone to do anything anymore. Abraham tells him that a great gulf has been established preventing anyone from rescuing or comforting him even if they wanted to. And it may be helpful for us to wonder for a moment how this great gulf came to be established. Who put it there? The parable itself doesn’t tell us. And some of us might think that it is God who has done this. It is God who has dug this gaping hole in order to imprison the rich man. In order to punish him for his sins. Maybe. But could it be the rich man himself is blame? Could it be that, like our shoplifter from the US, it is the rich man who has somehow dug his own grave?

In order to see this possibility, we need first to consider what the deep gulf does. Notice how it separates people into two groups. On one side, we have Lazarus and those who are being comforted. On the other, we have the rich man and those who are being tormented. Notice also how this separation that takes place after death corresponds to an earlier division in life. Between the rich and comfortable on one side, and the poor and afflicted on the other. The separation after death is a continuation of an earlier division in life. But with two crucial differences. First there is a reversal of positions. An exchange of experiences. After death, the one who was comfortable in life now suffers terribly. And the one who was in deep distress in life is now tenderly comforted.

Second, not only is there a reversal of roles, there is also a change in the thing that separates them. While they were still alive, although the poor Lazarus and the rich man were divided by their material circumstances, they actually lived very close to each other. We’re told that Lazarus used to lie at the gate of the rich man’s house. How easy it must have been for the rich man to bridge the distance between him and Lazarus while they were still alive? It would not have taken much effort for the rich man to reach out and share something with the pitiful person lying in front of his house. All he had to do was to allow himself to be affected by the plight of the poor. And then to express his compassion in some practical way. But he never did. Even though he could easily have done so, while still alive, the rich man failed to bridge the distance between himself and Lazarus. Between the rich and the poor. And, after death, it becomes too late. The separation between rich and poor becomes final and irreversible. The gulf between them is now too great to cross. And the rich man is on the wrong side of that gulf. The side of suffering and pain. He has put himself there. He has dug his own grave.

But why, we may wonder, did the rich man not try to bridge the gap between rich and poor when he still had a chance? Why did he not do anything to reach out to Lazarus? Was he preoccupied with other pressing problems? Did he have one or more children doing the PSLE? Our readings suggest to us one possible reason. We find an indication of this in the first reading. Here, the prophet Amos pronounces a severe judgment upon the rich people of his time. Woe to those ensconced so snugly in Zion, and to those who feel so safe on the mountain of Samaria, proclaims the prophet. Their only concern is with their own comfort. So focused are they on indulging their own selfish desires, and in safeguarding their own wealth, that they remain unaffected by the suffering of the masses of poor people who surround them. In the words of the prophet, these rich people do not care at all about the ruin of Joseph. They feel nothing for the suffering of the oppressed. Perhaps they don’t even notice it. Just as the rich man never really noticed the plight of Lazarus. Here then is our answer. The rich man neglects to open the gate of his house to the poor, because he has already closed the door of his heart.

Quite clearly, the rich people in the first reading and the gospel are not unlike that unfortunate shoplifter in the US. Concerning themselves only with their own comfort and security, they end up diving into a garbage bin. The disgusting dumpster of their own arrogance and apathy. And isn’t this the same arrogance and apathy that then results in the great gulf that imprisons the rich man in Hell? Notice, for example, how arrogant the rich man remains even after his death. Even while he is being tormented by hellfire, he continues to order people about. He wants Abraham to send Lazarus to cool his tongue. And then to go and warn his brothers. As in life, so too in death. The rich man continues to treat the poor as nothing more than slaves. Once again, it becomes clear to us who is the one responsible for the unbridgeable gulf separating the rich man from the joys of heaven. By his own arrogance and apathy, the rich man has dug his own grave.

All of which should lead us to reflect upon our own situation today. Perhaps some of us might consider ourselves rich. Some might consider ourselves poor. Or maybe somewhere in the middle. But whether rich or poor, by virtue of our baptism, all of us here are called to be what the second reading tells us that Timothy was called to be: men and women dedicated to God. Living lives no longer for ourselves, but for God. Called to keep Christ’s great commandment of love. Committed to continue struggling against our own arrogance and apathy. So as to show compassion for those most in need. Determined to do what we can in this life to bridge the ever-widening gulf between the rich and the poor. A gulf that is quite plainly seen even here in Singapore. If only we have to eyes to look. If only we are ready to open the doors of our hearts.

My dear sisters and brothers, faced with a situation such as this, where a great distance continues to separate rich and poor, what should our response be? How are we being called to move from being grave-diggers to being gulf-bridgers today?

Wise Sacrifices That Win Friends

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Amos 8:4-7; Psalm 112:1-2,4-8; 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

Picture: cc samborowski

Sisters and brothers, have you heard of Miley Cyrus? I’m sure you have. She is a young singer and actress, who recently made the news in a big way. But for all the wrong reasons. Or so it seems. As you know, some weeks ago, Miley performed live at this year’s MTV Video Music Awards. During her performance, she stripped down to her underwear. That’s right. Bra and panties. And then, dressed in this very provocative manner, Miley proceeded to execute some highly suggestive–some would say shameful–dance moves. Which I will not describe to you here. Partly because I’m not sure I can find the right words to do it. And also partly because I’m afraid you will report me to the Archbishop. Anyway, Miley followed that live performance with the release of her latest music video. Where she sings and dances not just in her underwear, but also in her birthday suit.

As might be expected, the girl has been heavily criticised for all this. Her reputation has taken a terrible beating. People have been calling her a slut. Some even say that she has gone crazy. But what do you think, sisters and brothers? Has Miley Cyrus really gone crazy? Or is there maybe another reason for her actions? A method to her madness? Consider the amount of publicity she has enjoyed since her controversial performance. People can’t seem to stop talking about her. Not only that. Her song has actually risen to the top of the music charts. Although Miley’s reputation may have gone down the tubes, her popularity has shot through the roof. All of which might help us to understand a little better what’s actually going on. It’s very likely that Miley hasn’t gone crazy at all. No. What she has done is boost her singing career in a spectacular fashion. It’s very likely that all this is part of a very clever, very well-planned, marketing strategy. Miley knows that in the music business–actually in any business–sex sells. So she has willingly sacrificed her reputation in a calculated move to win more fans for herself. And she has succeeded. In a very big way.

Sacrificing something that you value less, for the sake of gaining something that you value more. This is what Miley Cyrus has done. And isn’t this also very much like what Jesus is talking about in the gospel today? Isn’t this what the dishonest steward does in Jesus’ parable? His boss has just fired him. He needs to find a new job. The steward needs to make new friends. Just like a singer needs to get new fans. So what does he do to increase his own popularity? He gives away what every business person wants. A discount. How much do you owe my master? One hundred measures of oil? OK, here’s the contract. Change the amount to fifty. One hundred measures of wheat? Change it to eighty. We’re not sure whose money the steward is using to give these discounts. Maybe it’s his boss’s. Maybe it’s his own commission. That’s not so important. What’s more important is that, like Miley Cyrus, the dishonest steward is able and willing to sacrifice something less valuable to himself–in this case, money–in order to gain something more precious–prospective employers. People able to give him what he needs most. A new job.

Sacrificing money to win friends. This is what the steward is doing. And this is also what Jesus is inviting us to do. But in a good way, of course. Use money, Jesus says, tainted as it is, to win you friends, and thus make sure that when it fails you, they will welcome you into the tents of eternity. What is Jesus talking about? What kind of friends does he mean? Not any ordinary kind. Not just those who can give us a new job. But, more importantly, those who can give us an eternal home. Friends who can help us to get into heaven. Who are these people? We find the answer in our other scripture readings for today.

In the second reading, St. Paul reminds us of the one Person, the one Friend, who alone has the power to get us into heaven. God our saviour, Paul writes, wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth. So God is the Saviour. God is the divine Friend that we all need to win over if we want to be welcomed into the tents of eternity. But how to use money to do this? Surely God doesn’t owe us anything. So how can we give God a discount? How to use money to win God over to our side? To make God our friend?

The answer is found in both the first reading and the responsorial psalm. Although it is true that God has no favourites. God wants everyone to be saved. The first reading tells us that God does have special friends. According to the prophet Amos, God chooses to take the side of the poor. Especially those who have been victimised and cheated in some way. God chooses to take the side of the oppressed, against their oppressors. To the people who cheat and steal from the poor, God says: Never will I forget a single thing you have done. Not only that. The psalm tells us that from the dust God lifts up the lowly, from the dungheap he raises the poor. Business people may value discounts. But God values the lives of the poor. God chooses to befriend the oppressed. To take their side at all times.

If this is true, then the message to us becomes very clear. If we wish to get to heaven, we need to make friends with God. And one effective way to make friends with God–the way that Jesus is teaching us in the gospel–is simply to use money to befriend the poor. To do with money something like what Miley Cyrus has done with her own good name. Sacrifice something less valuable in order to gain something more precious. Use our money, as far as we can, to make friends with those around us who most need our help. Sacrifice our material possessions in order to gain ourselves an eternal home.

But this is not always easy to do. How many of us can say that we use our money in this way. To help the poor. Or don’t we often, instead, use our money to buy things we don’t really need? If Miley Cyrus is able to sacrifice her own good name to get more fans, it is because she values fame more highly than her own reputation. In the same way, we can only do what Jesus is asking of us, if we truly value friendship with God more highly than money. As Jesus says in the gospel, you cannot be the slave both of God and of money. But how are we to become the slaves of God? When so many of us have to continue to work hard everyday, trying to make a living for ourselves and our families? There is one way, sisters and brothers. Just as we cannot make ordinary friends without sincere communication. We cannot befriend God without deep prayer. But how many of us really know how to pray?

Which brings us to the reason why I am here today. My name is Christopher Soh. And I’m a Jesuit priest from St. Ignatius Church. I’ve come here, together with a group of friends from the Sojourners’ Companions, to promote the Week of Guided Prayer. This is a special programme that teaches people how to pray more deeply. Every participant in this Week of Guided Prayer will receive individual guidance from a trained prayer guide in some very helpful prayer methods taught by St. Ignatius of Loyola, the patron saint of all spiritual exercises. What we are offering you, sisters and brothers, is a precious opportunity to deepen your friendship with God. For God is our life. And, as Jesus tells us in the gospels, what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? (Mt 16:26) So I encourage you to visit us at our table after Mass to find out more.

My dear sisters and brothers, it’s quite clear that, for Miley Cyrus, popularity is more valuable than her good name. Such that she’s willing to sacrifice one for the other. But what about us? How willing are we to sacrifice our money, our time, our energy, to gain not just popularity on earth, but an eternal home in heaven? Sisters and brothers, what are you willing to do to deepen your friendship with God today?

Been There, Done That... Or Not...

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Exodus 32:7-11,13-14; Psalm 50:3-4,12-13,17,19; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-32

Picture: cc daphenator

Sisters and brothers, are you familiar with the expression been there, done that? You know what it means, right? We typically hear it being used in American movies. Usually by younger people. Say, for example, an adult suggests visiting such and such a place. Or engaging in this or that activity. But the youngster is not interested. Has made plans of his/her own. Been there, done that, s/he may exclaim. Which is the same as saying, I’ve already experienced that before. So don’t make me do the same old thing again. Let’s move on to something else. And there is, of course, an even faster, even shorter way of saying all this. Just one word: Boring! It’s quite amazing, isn’t it, sisters and brothers? How quickly some of us get bored. How much we seem to need constant stimulation. How important it is for us to keep trying new things. To keep buying new gadgets. How difficult it is for some of us simply to remain with the familiar. Or what we think is familiar.

But not everyone is like that. Not too long ago I visited an elderly person who had just been hospitalised. And she showed me a couple of novels she had brought with her to keep herself occupied. Actually, I’ve read them several times already, she confided with a smile, But I still enjoy reading them again. In stark contrast to the been there, done that mentality, this person knew from experience that repetition doesn’t always have to be boring. That experiencing something more than once can actually heighten our enjoyment of it. Perhaps even enable us to see things–interesting and important things–that we may have overlooked the first time round.

I mention this, because I suspect that been there, done that is just the sort of unspoken reaction our gospel reading for today might evoke in us. We are, after all, very familiar with the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Probably know it like the backs of our hands. What possible good can come from hearing it yet again? Boring!... And yet, perhaps the parable has something more to teach us? Perhaps there is even someplace new and interesting it can lead us? But there’s only one way to find out. We need to give ourselves the opportunity to look at it again. To allow it to address us anew. To let ourselves to be there, and do that at least one more time...

For a start, let’s consider to whom the parable is addressed. Typically, we focus our attention mainly on the younger son. The one who goes astray. The one who sins very obviously and grievously against his father. The parable then becomes an invitation to big sinners, like the younger son, to repent and to return to God, our heavenly Father. Which may make the rest of us, who may not be conscious of having committed very serious sins, to feel as though the parable is not for us. Or that we have already been there and done that. Already repented. Nothing more to do. Boring! Let’s move on to something else.

And yet, perhaps there is another perspective to take. When we listen to the parable in its context in the bible, we see something rather different. Notice how the reading begins and also how it ends. It begins with a complaint raised by the scribes and the Pharisees. People who consider themselves already righteous in the sight of God. No longer requiring repentance. They are unhappy that Jesus is spending much of his time with tax collectors and sinners. Those very much like the younger son in the parable. And it is in direct response to this complaint of theirs that Jesus tells three parables. All of which speak about things that have been lost. A lost sheep. A lost coin. And a lost son.

Notice also, how the reading ends. It ends with an invitation. The older son, who considers himself loyal and faithful, is angry with his father. Not unlike how the scribes and Pharisees are angry with Jesus. The boy refuses to go into the house to join the celebrations. He complains about being unfairly treated. His father comes out to plead with him. To invite him to go in. And that’s where the reading ends. Will the elder son go into the house and celebrate? Or will he choose to remain outside? We don’t know. The ball is in his court. He has to choose whether or not to move. Much like how the scribes and the Pharisees have also to choose how to react to the mercy of Jesus. So it would seem that the parable is really addressed more to the elder son than to the younger. More to the Pharisees than to the sinners.

But what is this movement that the older son is being called to make? What does it mean to enter the father’s house? Our other readings help us to answer this question. Notice how, in the first reading, it is God who appears to undergo a movement. The Israelites have fallen into idolatry. They have sinned and are lost. And God’s first reaction is apparently one of anger and of indifference. Anger at the people’s disloyalty. And indifference to their fate. God tells Moses that God will destroy this people, and make Moses a great nation. It’s as though God sees the Israelites as a failed experiment. As an expendable commodity. Let what is lost remain lost. God can quite easily replace it. And God can, of course, do just that. As John the Baptist says in the gospels, God can even raise up children to Abraham from stones (Luke 3:8). But Moses does not agree to this plan, even though he stands to gain from it. Instead Moses reminds God of the covenants that God has made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He reminds God of God’s affection for the Israelites. This people is not just an expendable commodity, but a precious child. A lost son needing to be sought after and brought back. As a result, quite incredibly, God relents. God moves from anger and indifference to mercy and compassion.

And isn’t this also the kind of movement that we see in the life of St. Paul? Before his conversion, Paul was named Saul. And he was an angry persecutor of Christians. He threw many people into prison. Indifferent to their suffering. But then everything changed when the crucified and risen Christ appeared to him on the road to Damascus. From an angry persecutor, he became a zealous missionary of God’s mercy. And it is about this incredible change that Paul is writing in the second reading. How did he make this radical movement? From anger to mercy. From indifference to compassion. He did it by experiencing for himself God’s boundless mercy. Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, he writes. I myself am the greatest of them.

What a huge difference there is then, sisters and brothers, between Saul and Paul. Between the Pharisee and Moses. Between the elder brother and the loving father. What a great distance between anger and mercy. Between indifference and compassion. Between pride and humility. And isn't this the same distance that Jesus came to bridge for us? Jesus who, by his Cross and Resurrection, has shown us God’s mercy. Has ushered us into the joy of the Father’s House. Has inserted us into the warmth of the Father’s embrace. And isn't this the same distance that we are all called to keep traversing? The same gap that we are all called to keep bridging in our world today? A world that tends all too frequently to treat people as dispensable commodities. To be discarded like failed experiments. A world that swings between callous indifference and self-righteous anger. A Pharisaic world, unable to appreciate its own need for the mercy of God. A world of the elder brother, still unable to accept the gracious invitation to enter the Father’s House. Still unable to utter the words from our psalm response: I will leave this place and go to my Father.

Sisters and brothers, without a doubt, we are all very familiar with the Parable of the Prodigal Son. We have all been there and done that. And yet, could it be that this beautiful story still has something to say to us? How might it be calling us to continue moving from anger to mercy, from indifference to compassion, today?