
Fr. Joe Dailey
Fr. Joe Dailey Sunday Homily
Fr. Joe Dailey
Homily for Sunday Ordinary 21 C
At the opportune time, the caterpillar spins itself inside the narrow space of the chrysalis, to emerge, transformed, into a butterfly.
I have Mass on Sunday, August 24 at St. Isidore @ 7:30/9:30 am
frjoedailey@gmail.com
A reading from the Holy Gospel According to Luke.
Jesus passed through towns and villages, teaching as he went, and making his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" He answered them, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many I tell you will attempt to enter, but will not be strong enough."
After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then you will stand outside, knocking, and saying, "Lord, open the door for us." He will say to you in reply, "I do not know where you are from." And you will say, "We ate and drank in your company, and you taught in our streets." Then he will say to you, "I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers." And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth, when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves cast out. And people will come from the east and the west, and from the north and the south, and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last, who will be first, and some are first, who will be last.
The Gospel of the Lord.
The eight-year-old boy next door is starting football. This week he and his father were running catching drills. The boy would start running, and then turn around for the catch, as his father threw the ball. For some reason, my front yard was the receiving zone. Most of the time, the boy dropped the ball, and it tumbled into my garden. I kept hoping he would get better, for the sake of the garden.
But this is always how we learn, not by getting it right, but by doing it wrong. The author of Hebrews, who is reflecting on faithfulness and endurance, asks, "What son is there whom his father does not discipline?" At its root, the word "discipline" means "to teach." Discipline is the self-control that is gained by requiring that rules or orders be obeyed, and the ability to keep working at something that is difficult. You can hear the word "disciple" in the word "discipline."
Jesus himself was disciplined, as we read in Hebrews 5, verse 8, "Son, though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered." Discipline is God's grace, conforming us to Christ's likeness, for the Lord disciplines the one he loves.
St. Augustine, whose feast day is Thursday, said, "Our entire task in this life, dear ones, consists in healing the eyes of the heart, so that we may be able to see God." Through discipline, God is moving us toward holiness. God is bringing us closer to God's heart.
Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem. In those days, there were seven gates to the city. At the wide gates, there were tolls to pay, which were often excessive. The main gates, though, are not always open, but other gates allow entry during those times. There are no toll collectors at the narrow gates, because the gates are too small to bring in a load of goods. Jesus said, "Strive to enter through the narrow gate." The Greek word for strive is agonizimae, from which we get the word agony. Agonizimae describes the endurance required for an athletic struggle, like the agony in the garden or Jacob wrestling with God.
Those who choose the narrow gate will be free from the oppression of the toll collectors, but they will have to cast aside all their worldly belongings.
In the natural world, a snake looks for a narrow passageway, usually two stones, to shed the old skin, which has become too constrictive for developing and growing. At the opportune time, the caterpillar spins itself inside the narrow space of the chrysalis to emerge transformed into a butterfly. Most of us were born into this world through the birth canal.
To renew itself, to expand and to innovate, life often goes through narrow places or bottlenecks, which give birth to unpredictable newness and connection. In Hebrew, the word for Egypt is mitzraim, which literally means "a very narrow place" to come out of Egypt. The children of Israel had to pass through a narrow, difficult way. God meets us in the narrow places and leads us out into the land of promise.
The Babylonian exile was another transformational experience for the chosen people. The people who returned from exile were not the same as the people who had left. They'd always thought that to be God's chosen people meant that everyone else was excluded. But God imagines the chosen to include everyone. As we heard from the prophet Isaiah, "I'm coming to gather all nations and tongues."
This divine characteristic is unsettling. What's the point of being chosen if you cannot boast of God's special care? Isaiah answers this question. The chosen have been called so that they might be sent to the distant coastlands that have never heard of my fame or seen my glory, and they shall proclaim my glory among the nations. They have been chosen not merely for their own sake but for the sake of others.
This gathering of the scattered is a key biblical term for God's saving action. Salvation is therefore not about being saved for heaven after death. Rather, salvation is about gathering people in communion, thereby restoring the good creation that sin and violence have torn apart.
A non-negotiable part of meeting Jesus means being sent out, and not just alone on some private spiritual quest. It means being called into community, to be church. Jesus isn't looking for admirers. We ate and drank with you. You taught on our streets. Jesus wants followers, disciples.
For most of us, it's inside our commitments within our own narrow places that transformation takes place. It's only in our relationships that we discover forgiveness. We become a conduit of mercy because we can only give mercy with the same measure we have received. Transformation happens when we live within the tensions of life rather than running away.
The beams of the cross stretch out four ways, pulling against each other, left and right, up and down. But these arms converge in a center at the heart, a heart that can be pulled open by that stretching, a heart that can be opened so fully it can hold everything from despair to ecstasy. That is how Jesus held his excruciating experience as an opening into the heart of God.
The cross is the narrow door that can open the heart to include everything and everyone who is in the Father's heart. All will come from east and west, from north and south, and will recline at table in the kingdom of God.