When St. John Paul II preached on this passage
from the Mount of Beatitudes twenty-three years ago
he began by quoting Corinthians,
“Consider your calling, brothers and sisters.”
He invited his listeners to envision two high places—
Sinai,
where the people of Israel
received the Law,
and the Mount of Beatitudes,
where Jesus illuminated the Law
bringing it to its fullest potential.
Sinai and the Mount of Beatitudes—
two roadmaps
marking the path of discipleship;
two beacons,
lighting our way.
“Consider your calling.”
This call into discipleship
is not simply an invitation
to believe in Jesus,
and follow him.
It is more.
Much more.
It is a call that plunges us,
ready or not,
willing or reluctant,
confident or terrified,
deep into a community.
Within this community of disciples,
Jesus teaches us
that we are accountable for our actions,
our words- even our innermost thoughts and attitudes.
And no matter how private
we might wish to be,
no matter how much we might
want to hide or hedge our bets,
this new community binds us so closely
that we become one with God,
one with the person across the aisle,
the stranger down the street,
the immigrant at the border,
the believer in a distant land—
one, even,
with the vast number of pilgrims
who have come and gone before us.
Yikes.
Now, I don’t know about you,
but this sounds more like hard news
than Good News.
It flies in the face of
everything
we’ve been taught about survival and success.
In a world that celebrates rugged individualism,
rewards inflated egos,
places a premium on self-sufficiency,
and scorns the needy and dependent,
Jesus preaches the importance of
relationship,
community,
mutuality,
dependence,
sacrifice.
In a world obsessed with outward appearance,
Jesus teaches
that what lies beneath the surface
matters.
In a world that promotes independence and freedom,
we are called to conform ourselves
so closely to Christ,
that even our thoughts are converted.
It would be so much easier—
and safer—
to simply follow rules and laws;
to color within the lines,
set the GPS,
clean up our own messes,
allow our private thoughts to run amok,
and let everyone else’s spiritual chips
fall where they may.
It is so much easier to mask
what we are thinking and feeling—
to spackle over our ugly ideas and attitudes
with a wink and a smile,
or continue to stuff them down—
so far down
we might just choke with the effort,
than it is to actually root out
envy, prejudice, hatred, fear
and allow ourselves to become whole.
But consider our calling.
Jesus calls us
to become builders and sustainers
of communities that are alive with hope;
communities of believers responsible for,
and accountable to,
each other…
even in those thoughts
we dare not speak aloud.
Jesus calls us into communities
that illuminate the law
and bring it to its full potential and purpose—
that is: to honor God
and to honor, protect, and serve each other.
Together,
we are saved.
This teaching is challenging
and hard,
and frankly,
strange in the eyes of the world.
And most of us,
if we are honest,
can look at the flawed and fragile people
in our own parish,
and then gaze at the flawed and fragile
face looking back from our own mirror,
and mutter,
“This place?
These people?
US!?
ME?
Seriously, Jesus,
maybe that approach worked for
Andrew,
and Peter,
and Mary,
and Phoebe,
You know…saints…
but that vision of community—
this kind of commitment—
Well, it will just never fly
in Cincinnati.
Or Stillwater.
Or Salina.
We will fail before we even begin.”
And it is true,
this perfect commitment will always lie
just a bit (ok, maybe a lot)
beyond our grasp.
But there will be grace
and goodness
and growth in the striving.
The path itself,
rocky as it may be,
will teach and form us.
This calling is much more
than a call to rules and laws,
as helpful as they can be.
Rather, as Jesus makes clear,
our calling is nothing less
than an invitation to be transformed,
in community.
On this earth,
we will always live in the tension
between the call
to help bring about the Kingdom
and the struggle
to overcome self and sin.
On this path of discipleship we will stumble,
even fall,
but we will do it together
or not at all.
“Consider your calling, brothers and sisters.”
Pope John Paul II Homily to Youth, March, 2000 http://www.cin.org/jp2/jp000324a.html
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