Homily for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time
Homily delivered by Fr Dominic Robinson SJ
Scripture readings: Isaiah 66:18-21; Hebrews 12:5-13; Luke 13:22-30
I wonder when was the last time someone asked me whether I really believed in God and why? Or why do I go to church on Sundays? Often people from that other side of the faith fence have very good reasons for wondering why anyone would want to believe today – when God does not stop bad things in our lives – and we see so much at the moment: the war raging in Ukraine and Russia, as we emerge from the years of pandemic and all that threw at us now the impending cost of living crisis which is going to impact so many over the coming months, the aggression and violence around us which for me is tangible – the shocking brutal homophobic attack on two youngsters the other night in our city following the homophobic murder in recent weeks – what are we coming to? And when the Church appears hypocritical and disconnected with the real world. These are the kind of questions asked of me fairly regularly in one-to-one and group conversations, perhaps more often by people of wavering faith or no faith but by many who are questioning whether they believe or not anymore, and why we need the community of the Church which seems so unnecessary and remote from reality.
I have to say I relish these kinds of conversations because it encourages me to at least try to think out of my bubble – and instead of interacting largely with believers and religious professionals, to self-interrogate myself about the origins and motives of my vocation – have I just fallen into it, why do I just keep going, or do I really believe in that old chestnut of God having a grand plan which somehow just, but only just, stops short of an overly deterministic view of providence? But I certainly don’t find them easy conversations to engage in. It’s actually much easier in fact answering the kind of question posed in the Gospel today. “Will only a few be saved?” I enjoy that kind of question and I could talk about it this morning: are we all saved? Predestined to be saved? Justified by faith alone? The theological divide between Protestants and Catholics; and what about other religions? Are those of other religions saved? Etc etc? But I won’t…
Because the problem with this question is evident in the Lord’s response. The Lord’s response: because Jesus here sniffs out where this is coming from & where it’s going… this is not a theological question for curiosity’s sake – this is a question which really wants to say in so many words “isn’t it right, Lord, that we are the chosen ones, us your disciples, who’ve been following you around the towns and villages” – just the fact that this man calls him “Lord” tells us that he’s in that group – he wants to stake his claim to being in the club. And the Lord’s response…: (pause) there is no answer – this is God’s business: many will try to enter and not succeed – those who ate and drank with Him as he went round the Galilean countryside – and – it’s maybe part of this section and the same single source but found in Matthew – I don’t know you foolish virgins, I don’t know you who pride yourselves on the miracles and exorcisms you make in my Name. I never knew you. (pause) You’re asking the wrong question.
Yes, you’re asking the wrong question because Christianity – Catholicism – faith – is not about being in or out of a club, a clique or whatever, whether it’s the clergy or a well-to-do parish or a group of like-minded individuals to the right or the left or in the centre. The Liturgy, with the celebration of the Mass at its centre, is not for us. In a sense the most profound words of the Mass come at the end as we carry the Body of Christ within us: “Go in peace, you are sent”. The Temple at Jerusalem, we hear in the Old Testament reading from Isaiah, will now become a house of prayer for all nations, not just for the chosen few. Even from the Gentile community will come priests and Levites. They would come from Tarshish in Iberia, from Put and Lud in Africa, from Tubal in the Russian peninsula. And, while the doors will be locked to those of us who persist in the arrogance of thinking we are part of the right tribe, the wedding banquet at the end of time will be full with those who come from north, south, east and west, from Abraham on. Those on the margins will go in first. They will come from the subculture of city life where increasing numbers sleep rough and are forced to beg on Park Lane, Oxford Street, Piccadilly and Regent Street. The peripheries are at the centre in the Kingdom of God. And of course we are all called to help bring this about if we bear Christ with us.
So will we be saved? Is that why we profess a faith in Jesus Christ as a saviour and ascribe to Christianity, make a life of being a member of his Church? It’s a question which turns us in on ourselves rather than towards our neighbour. Who am I sitting next to? Who is behind me? In front of me in this church tonight? No; we could talk about salvation for ever but it’s a theological distraction which takes us away from the human reaction of Jesus to his foolish disciple’s question. We’re here because we respond to a call which the Lord makes to all; because his welcome is all-embracing – which shuns any type of exclusion and any sort of cliqueishness – whose Church flies in the face of the carnival of egoism, complacency and greed around us and strives to join with the very best of civil society in being a field hospital for all peoples, especially those most in need and for whom we must stand up.
Why do I believe? Why am I still a Christian, a Catholic? Why am I here today? Why are we here, professing our personal faith, together?