Homily for 28th Sunday (A), Oct 9, 2011. Fr. Joseph T. Nolan
The first parable has a single point: the kingdom of God is open to
everyone. But the kingdom of God means awakening and responding to the
presence of God in one’s life. And this possibility is there for everyone, not
just for church-goers and the baptized. God may not even be a name they
know or recognize (their patron could be Cyrus, the pagan ruler who
became God’s servant). There will be some who have received a formal
invitation to the kingdom such as baptism, a membership in the community
of faith but who do not respond, who go their own ways. And there will be
others who come in from the byroads, who have responded to goodness,
love, the cause of justice or peace, who respond to the spirit of truth that
speaks in the heart.
This, we repeat, is the main point, the “lead” or banner headline of the
first parable. Details in a parable often are not that important. Thus, if we,
who should know better, who hear the gospel, have been indifferent to the
command to live and love unselfishly, faithfully, this failure does not mean
we shall be destroyed by the king, but we should become aware that the
choices we make and the values we prefer can be displeasing to the One who
made us and made us free to love.
Even though the kingdom of God is here among us, the first reading
and certainly the Good Shepherd psalm turn our thoughts to the time of
fulfillment that we call heaven, or eternal life. The Isaiah passage should be
marked down for funerals (for your own, if you wish.) It expresses so
beautifully the promises of God. When we hear that a “web is woven over
all nations” and “a veil is there that veils all peoples” we realize anew that
the purpose of revelation is to part the veil, as the prophet does here, to give
us a glimpse of future life and the day of fulfillment. For this he must use
symbolic language because the richness of our future with God is too great
for ordinary prose. Thus the images of a mountain and a banquet stand for
the power and the love of God, who not only towers above us in majesty but
is present among us, especially when we meet and enjoy each other.
All this a youngster might sum up as “great stuff,” but if we are honest,
many of us would admit that faith in God’s promises and our own future – a
future that transcends death – is not as strong as we would like, nor is it
terribly comforting. Both life and love are too precious to let go without
anguish and protest. This simply reflects the way we are made, and God
cannot expect us to be very different. The Creator made us to love life, to
love each other, in most cases to marry and to have children, and this is the
frame of human existence, the way history continues. We hope for more, and
we say that we believe. But we are devastated when those we love are forced
to leave us, or when the time of our own dissolution is at hand.
The blunt fact is that we need a stronger faith, a resurrection faith. A
faith in God’s word as something that endures, that is true. And that truth
should set us free even from all anxiety. We need a greater understanding of
what is happening when we die, and why the Good Shepherd psalm is not
just poetry but actuality.
Consider the following words (and I tell you in advance that he is
wrong) from a believer thinking about death, writing his thoughts in a letter.
It is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart; as most know, he did not live long – 34
years – but that knowledge was kept from him. He did not think of himself
as likely to die – who does, when young – but worried over his father who
had been ill. The letter says, “I need not tell you with what anxiety I await
better news from you.” And then he adds, “Since death (take my words
literally) is the true goal of our lives, I have made myself so well acquainted
with this true and best friend of man that the idea of it no longer has terrors
for me, but rather much that is tranquil and comforting. And I thank God
that he has granted me the good fortune to obtain the opportunity of
regarding death as the key to our true happiness. I never lie down in bed
without considering that, young as I am, perhaps on the morrow I may be no
more. Yet not one of those who knows me could say that I am morose or
melancholy, and for this I thank my Creator daily and wish heartily that the
same happiness may be given to my fellow man.”
Thus Mozart. People often say something similar, such as, “Death is
the door to eternal life.” Or, “Death is not so bad, it’s the way we go to
God,” or, “it’s the gateway to heaven,” etc. But they, and Mozart, have it all
wrong. Death is best viewed as an enemy (St. Paul calls it the last of the
enemies) that we battle as long as possible, a struggle for survival which
God wishes us to make. When defeat appears inevitable – in other words,
when we come to die – God in Christ becomes even more a part of that
struggle.
How can we possible think otherwise if we understand even a little the
cross and resurrection, what we call the paschal mystery, or simply think out
the symbolic or real meaning of the Good Shepherd psalm? A philosopher
would say death is a necessary condition, a material cause – but the real
answer is belief in the word which says today that “God will wipe away the
tears from all faces,” and tells us to rejoice in the One who has saved us. The
whole Christian thing affirms that God has saved us in Christ. Use St. Paul’s
words today, and reapply them. We will, as he says, become “experienced in
being brought low”. Indeed we will; it’s called dying. And what we want
then is not sustenance for this life – food, drink, shelter. What we want is the
gift of life itself to continue, to be our own person in a new mode of
existence. Yes, heaven. The apostle says, “My God for his part will supply
your needs fully in a way worthy of his magnificent riches in Christ Jesus.”
We should beg for the grace to believe this more firmly when we think of
death. A great Christian thinker says that “death is not a diminishing but a
finishing.” God now finishes the work he has begun in us, just as God will
finish the work he has begun in creation.
Death is finally the dark valley we must go down. But not alone.