Religion Without Sacrifice is Useless Posturing
Our congress closes this day in precisely the manner in which it should — with the celebration of the eucharist, God's enduring pledge of his love, the source of our unity and of our strength. We leave Chicago today with high hopes and exalted expectations; we leave also, hopefully, with a deeper awareness of how God himself is calling each one of us to a more authentic baptismal commitment, really, to a deeper and more authentic holiness.
It is important to repeat and to emphasize right here that you and I have been more than simply conscientious citizens here at this congress, more than simply concerned African Americans examining the critical needs of our people and of our national and global society. We came here to Chicago as men and women of faith, we came here to participate in an explicitly religious enterprise, calling not only upon our own considerable resources but also upon the guidance we believe we receive from God and eager to submit ourselves to God's perfect wisdom.
This congress, then, like all of our congresses before it, has fundamentally been about the perfect wisdom of God.
Since this is true, our readings today could not be more useful for us as we depart because we are encouraged to pursue something our dear Holy Father Pope John Paul II has continually encouraged us to do--and that is to "look afresh at Jesus Christ." Whatever form and direction our contemplation and our collaboration will take in the days ahead, because we are people of faith, we will need to continue to look to Jesus, to look "afresh" to Jesus, for meaning and worth and power.
Today's Gospel comes to us from the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel that reveals Jesus as the great teacher, as one who says, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me." In Matthew, we see Jesus take his disciples to the mountaintop and teach them, in the Beatitudes, what his values are and what it means to live in the consciousness of the kingdom of God. In Matthew, Jesus teaches us in the parables the method and the process of God's own heart as it is laid open and bare before us. And in Matthew, Jesus teaches us that most important lesson, the one about love consisting more in deeds than it does in words, and that the most important manifestation of love is one's willingness to bear the cross, to suffer, to sacrifice for the beloved.
None of Jesus' teachings is more important than this one; and none of Jesus' teachings makes any real sense without this one. It is no wonder we find this particular teaching so difficult, so worrisome, so irksome.
If you don't believe me, would you please raise your hand right now if you like carrying your cross; raise your hand if you like suffering.
You see, one of the desires of our fragile and fickle hearts, if we are honest, is that, as much as we want to have religion in our lives, as much as we profess that we value "walking by faith and not by sight," the religion we want is a religion without sacrifice, a religion in which we can experience the ecstasy of spiritual union with God without having to endure the intense and agonizing purification which makes that union possible.
In that sense we are so much like Peter in today's Gospel, who spontaneously blurts out this response to Jesus' teaching on suffering: "God forbid, Lord, no such thing will ever happen to you." This is equivalent to Peter saying: "Jesus, you don't have to suffer and neither do I." Peter, the first pope, knows very little, as Jesus harshly reminds him, about the perfect wisdom of God. He does not yet know that a religion without sacrifice is really merely useless posturing. In fact, a religion without sacrifice is an impossibility. Peter does not yet know this, but he will learn. And he will learn from Jesus.
Neither did the early church at Rome know much about the perfect wisdom of God. In the Letter to the Romans, today's second reading, St. Paul pleads with them not to give in to the wisdom of their times and of their culture. He begs them: "Do not conform yourselves to this age. Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice to God."
Offer your bodies!
Paul could just as easily have been writing these words to us. We would feel more content if Paul were saying: "You know what? Offer your best wishes as the sacrifice to God." We would have been more comfortable if Paul were saying, "Offer some money as your sacrifice to God." Those are the kinds of sacrifices we would prefer to make. Little ones, partial ones. That is conforming ourselves to this age.
Also, we might not mind carrying the cross, but we think we should be able to choose our own crosses, decide for ourselves what sacrifices we'll make. And we certainly think we should be able to choose the crosses other people should bear. That is conforming ourselves to this age.
So we know that when Paul says, "Offer your bodies," he means that we are called to make not just a contribution to the holiness of the church but to make a commitment to the holiness of the church. And in case any of you are in doubt as to the difference between a contribution and a commitment, I want you to think of your typical cholesterol-laden Sunday breakfast of bacon and eggs. The hen has made a contribution 272 to that breakfast; the pig has made a commitment. It is the pig who has offered his body as a living sacrifice.
On some level we wish it weren't we who were the recipients of this obligation, that it weren't we who had to rise to this invitation into intimacy with Jesus and to pursue a pattern of human living which is truly heroic. We wish this call were given to someone else, anyone else, everyone else but not to us. We want the words of the hymn to say: "Hush, hush, somebody's calling your name."
We know the price of letting God completely into our lives, and it scares us to death. We know the price; we know what we have to give up. And so we can sympathize with poor, tired, fearful, conflicted Jeremiah, who says in the first reading: "I am an object of laughter, everyone mocks me. The word of the Lord has brought me derision and reproach."
Jeremiah puts into words what every one of us feels from time to time and especially in these days when we Catholics are trying to heal from the effects of the wounds we have inflicted upon ourselves and trying to recover from the horror and the shame of these recent days. It's hard being Catholic today when everyone's laughing at us or gossiping about us, or looking down on us, or thinking we're stupid or phony.
This is the time we need to reflect upon the perfect wisdom of God.
The biggest temptation for the church in our times, the temptation for all of us, whether we are bishop, priest deacon, religious or layperson, is the temptation to cowardice, to mediocrity, to the abandonment of responsibility. All of these are the dark shadows and the symptoms of fear, the kind of fear which paralyzes us into inaction, the kind of fear which makes us blame others for our pitiful choices or omissions, the kind of fear which allows us to turn a deaf ear to the persistent call of Jesus, which says to us without ceasing, "Do not be afraid."
Sisters and brothers, here is what we learn from Jesus today: We are no longer in the position of being able to give merely lip service to our faith. We are no longer in the position of being able to just "phone it in." We have to offer our bodies as a living sacrifice; we have to "show up" just as Jesus showed up on Calvary hill and taught us what it really means to love.
No one of us is insignificant; no one of us can be anonymous. The torch has been passed, our name is called, our number is up and it is our time.
During these days we have deliberated over many needs in our country and the world: the pernicious sin of racism, the global implications of the new evangelization, the scourge of AIDS, the challenges of creating vibrant parish life, how to nourish our precious young people, education, vocations to the priesthood and religious life. I need hardly tell you that the success of any of these efforts in the future will depend to a very large extent on how completely, on how generously, each one of us makes the sacrifice, offers his or her living body, and endures the ridicule and the scorn of the others in the culture.
These are simply other ways of saying that the eventual success of Congress IX will really depend upon how generously each of us carries out what we learn from Jesus; how we deny ourselves, pick up our cross and follow in his steps.
This is the perfect wisdom of God: 3,000 bodies, one heart, the heart of Jesus; 3,000 individual droplets, one mighty river, the unstoppable force of the power of the risen Jesus.
Sisters and brothers: Do not be afraid! The power of the living God, Father, Son and Spirit, goes with us into the future, a future which is, Jeremiah reminds us, "full of hope."
The victory, the victory which has already been won, is his; and to him be the glory. To God be the glory now and forever. Amen. © Origins, CNS Documentary Service, Catholic News Service, 3211 4th Street N.E., Washington, D.C. 20017-1100.
This item 4453 digitally provided courtesy of CatholicCulture.org
