We had a substitute priest at mass yesterday, who has subbed for us many times before, and whose homilies I've enjoyed very much. Yesterday, however, may have set my personal record for most cringes during one homily. Why is it so often Marianists who have this effect on me?
A brief synopsis of the Gospel reading: someone asks Jesus if only a few will be saved. Jesus replies that we should strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many will try to enter but will be unable. He goes on to say that these will knock at the door and hear the reply "I don't know where you're from." They will protest that they ate and drank with him, that he taught in their streets, but to no avail. They'll ultimately look on in anguish at the vast number who come from north and south, from east and west, feasting at the banquet.
Now, our visiting priest described this as a "tough" reading to understand, then interpreted it in the typical pre-Vatican-II Catholic manner, with the typically Marian twist. His point was that, while we may find we haven't been "strong enough," we have an advocate in Jesus' mother who will speak on our behalf at that moment, as we regularly implore " . . . pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death."
Now, once upon a time, I had a problem with the role of Mary as an intercessor. That is no longer the case. However, his approach to this reading still doesn't work for me, as I believe it underappreciates Mary's humility and Jesus' Godhead.
So here's my take on this reading. It isn't that "only a few will be saved," as the inquirer asked at the start of the Gospel passage. Rather, those who attempt to enter by their own merits, or who approach with an attitude of privilege, will find themselves unable to. Many of Jesus' own people had taken on a self-righteous sense of entitlement concerning their place in God's favor. Instead, the banquet hall will be filled with those saved, but they will indeed be saved, not worthy or entitled. It seems to me that those who are convinced that they belong can't ever work their way in. Only those who know how unworthy we are of God's love and of Jesus' sacrifice will have the proper attitude to enter the gate. Jesus is the narrow gate ("I myself am the gate for the sheep," Jesus says in St. John's gospel), and we enter through him, not through our own merits.
It seems to me that the earthly Christian church (and this is an issue beyond denomination) has too many people who act as if the purpose of our faith is to get us to the point at which we no longer need a savior. I believe it is impossible to achieve this. Our eternal destination isn't a matter of being good enough or strong enough or "faithful" enough (in the way we use the term to mean we've stayed the course), but humble enough. Yes, we are called to remain faithful, but not so that we can puff out our chests over our faithfulness, but humbly full of faith.
Now, lest I stumble into "sola fides," let me clarify that I don't believe such faith in Jesus is real if it is unaccompanied by a response. I believe we are to run the race, fight the good fight of faith, and (as St. Paul says) "work out our salvation with fear and trembling." But both the faith and our response to it - our running, fighting, and working out - are God's gift to us, so it is only by God's grace we enter the banquet, not by our belonging there in any other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment