June 2, 2002 - 9th Sunday, "A"
Dt 11, 18. 26-28; Rom 3, 21-25. 28; Mt 7, 21-27
For several weeks,
at the Sunday Eucharist, we have been reading the long Sermon on the Mount,
where Matthew brings together a whole series of sayings of Jesus. It started
with the Beatitudes -- the Beatitudes that we tend to interpret according
to our present expectations.
These Beatitudes are not a spiritual tranquilliser meant
to help us endure the hardships of this life in the expectation of a better
"Elsewhere land" They are a call, and a mission entrusted to us.
We have the mission to make them a reality in our world of today. This is
what to be a Christian is all about.
And this is the
reason why I find the end of this Sermon on the Mount the part we read
this morning -- so terrifying. It is not all those who cry out "Lord,
Lord..." who will enter the kingdom of heaven!... We know of only One,
who cried out "Lord, Lord" and did enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
It was the One who cried out: "Lord, Lord, why have you forsaken me?..."
And he is the very one who, today is telling us: "Many will plead with
me, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in your name? have we not exorcised
demons? Did we not do many miracles in your name as well?'
" Then, he says, I will declare to them solemnly, 'I never knew
you. Out of my sight, you evildoers!'
What is it that
got wrong? Where and when did we take the bad turning? Well, we forgot that
we were the stewards of the kingdom, responsible for building it. We forgot
that we were the stewards of the cosmos, the stewards of an eco system that
includes a whole universe of spiritual forces. Like kids playing with their
computers and breaking into the secrets of the National Defence, we have not
only tampered in the chemical and nuclear world, but we have broken into spiritual
energy channels. We have done miracles: we have reached new states of consciousness
and we have called them mystical experiences. We have probed and pawed the
innermost fastnesses of being, as we have scornfully tossed over ancient wisdom
and culture, the ancient stores of holiness. We have released terrifying spiritual
forces, good and evil, and it seems that the whole spiritual ecosystem now
lurches on, out of control. When Jesus said: "The rains fell, the torrents
came, the winds blew and lashed against the house", he was not describing
some of those sentimental an innocuous "spiritual trials" in which
can indulge those who are protected from the ordinary trials of real life.
He was describing that disconnectedness that is more real today than ever
before.
The spiritual
systems we have broken into with the computers of our various spiritual tricks
have run wild and have become kind of giant black holes eating up the light
that was supposed to guide us in our building of the kingdom of God. The nuclear
holocaust we so much fear is no longer to be feared. It is no longer to come;
it is here. We are in the Day After. Will an omniscient, all loving God bail
us out of our shelter? No. God seems to be mute and stunned. His love weeps
in a corner. WE must do the touching. Before it is safe to come out in the
open again, there must be a rebirth of human vision and conscience, such a
metanoia as would shake the very foundation of the earth and re establish
the broken connectedness.
Coming out of our cave, in the desert where the dream
of Jesus has been dragged to the dust by our promethean pride, let us sit
at the feet of Jesus again, let us listen to him and re learn that the kingdom
of heaven and the deepest form of contemplation are realised in things as
simple as weeping, consoling and being consoled, being wronged and forgiving,
loving neighbours as well as enemies, giving one's shirt as well as one's
mantel; walking two miles with the one who asked us to walk one, eating and
giving food.
How in the world did we forget that?
Armand VEILLEUX