Fr Henry O’Shea OSB
Many people who had the patience to follow the reporting and
comments on the government’s recent budget, will most likely have
been struck by the undercurrent of what can be called the What’s-in-
it-for-me-syndrome. An understandable syndrome, of course. We
have to live. But how? But why?
In today’s gospel reading, Peter shows a certain air of potential
disillusionment when he begins to point out to Jesus that he and the
other disciples have given up everything to follow him: – in some
cases, a successful fishing business, in most cases, a settled family life, a
certain stability, however humdrum And so on. Peter’s reminder cannot hide an expectation of some reward for his and the disciples’ heroic offering. Jesus interrupts him and reassures him that he and they will be amply rewarded – but at a cost.
Regardless of what form this reward will take, it will nearly always
include persecution in its varied forms. This can be persecution
experienced as actual physical violence, as legalized discrimination, as
public or private ridicule, as being ‘othered’. Persecution, even if not
recognized as such, can also take the form of racking doubts, mental
weariness, of temptations to give up.
Among the experiences that can prompt us to leave all, are
disillusionment when our idols let us down, the evaporation of hope
when our idols are shattered. In our relatively affluent society, most of us have the luxury of being able to choose our idols. But, idols remain idols, whether material, psychological, spiritual or some combination of these. And idols cannot save. Idols always disappoint. What has this to do with our gospel? Am I my own idol? What are my idols? How do I recognize them for what they are? How do I name them? Today’s first reading is from the Book of Wisdom and is a poem or song attributed to King Solomon, who reigned in what is now Israel, about 1000 years before the time of Christ. Solomon, having experienced what, by any standards, was enormous worldly success – but also well aware of his own personal flaws – tries to draw up a balance, tries to express where he stands, what he really values. He identifies wisdom as the greatest gift and treasure one could desire.
The fact that he has a full stomach and more, does not invalidate his
insight. Roughly 1000 years later, the write of the Letter to the Hebrews, from which our second reading today is taken, suggests one way of identifying our idols. The writer tells us that the word of God is living and actively effective, sharper than a two-edged sword, that can reach into what we regard as the most secret corners of our innermost being, the radical core of our hearts, the being of the real me.
This word of God is the scalpel that dissects, the spotlight that
exposes, the x-ray that penetrates, all our illusions and phantasies, all
our delusions, all our idols. This word of God exposes our idolatries,
not only of worldly riches as we usually understand them, but also the
idolatries of our smug or imagined securities, our imagined swaggering superiorities, be they intellectual, athletic, social – or even spiritual.
It is clear that the man in today’s Gospel who approaches Jesus is not
an evil person. He keeps all the commandments. He is honest, law-
abiding and respectable, probably respected. We are told that Jesus looked at him and loved him. Jesus does not condemn him, nor does he condemn us, but indicates an attachment that is crippling him and can cripple us; his and our many possessions. Jesus offers him and us an alternative that he is, and we are, free to choose. Jesus tells him to
let go, sell up, give to the poor and risk a life of listening to Jesus’ own
living and effective word.
Jesus invites us also to grow up, to get really real, to let the scalpel, the
searchlight, the x-ray of his word, of himself, the word of God made
flesh. He invites to let this really get into our hearts. Jesus admits to his shocked disciples that this relativisation, this scrapping of accepted social norms, even proprieties, might, and even does, appear impossible to the human person. The eye of a needle will always remain small. But it is not impossible to God. It is not impossible if we let him in to the real heart of ourselves. If we let him in, so that, in the words of today’s responsorial psalm: ‘…we may shout for joy and gladness all our days…’