View from the pew
I was looking every which way to avoid the topic of this week. Feeling guilty that I should even talk about giving thanks, I should confess all the times I fail to do that, or mouth thanks but with an insincere or ungrateful heart … and that’s just in the past few weeks.
So, after another Sunday liturgy of biblical predictions about the end of time and cautions to prepare for death, I thought “Aha, death will be an easier topic to tackle than thanks. Hooray, we’re finally at the end of the annual liturgical cycle when we always hear dire prophecies about the old order passing.”
“The readings are ominous, said Father Herman Gomes, provincial of the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. “They remind us of how short life is, a reminder that our lives will come to an end. Death is not a happy thought, but it’s part of the human condition.”
The Nov. 17 Mass and Luke’s Gospel had Jesus predicting what’s coming: false prophets, earthquakes, famine, “nation rising against nation,” adversaries who will persecute people, and the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.
Unlike televangelists who relish that apocalyptic stuff as a theme about the current state of human history, Father Gomes put it in historical context for the St. Patrick congregation.
“The imagery was used for Jewish people of the time the Gospel was written. For them, the focus of faith was the Temple in Jerusalem. It was built 1,000 years before Jesus was born. It was destroyed in 586 BC by Babylonian conquerors. Just 20 years before Jesus was born, it was rebuilt. Covering 35 acres, it was open air with altars where people offered burned sacrifices.”
Father Gomes pointed out that Jesus died in 33 AD and Mark wrote his account 30 years later. Gospel writers Luke and John wrote after 70 AD when the Roman conquerors of the time again destroyed the temple.
“It was devastating to the Jewish people; their symbol of God was destroyed,” he said. Jesus used that dire imagery but his message is that they need not fear and that he is the path to reunion with God after death.
In his homily at the Vatican that day, Pope Francis focused on how the crowds who heard Jesus pressed him for immediate answers to their questions of when the world would end and how they will know, according to a Catholic News Service story.
The pope told the crowd at St. Peter’s Basilica that wanting to know or to have everything right now “is not of God.” Seeking things that will pass takes one’s mind off the things that last. “We follow the clouds that pass and lose sight of the sky,” said Pope Francis. “Attracted by the latest ruckus, we no longer find time for God and for our brother and sister living alongside us. This is so true today. In yearning to run, to conquer everything and do it immediately, those who lag behind annoy us. One rushes ahead without worrying that the distances are increasing, that the lust of a few increases the poverty of many.”
We heard some other dire predictions in the readings this month that started with holy days celebrating dead saints and all departed souls. We listed names of our dead in the Book of Life on view all month.
Throughout November, Mass-goers heard scriptural accounts about deadly, perilous times for God’s people. On Nov. 26 there was that Old Testament story of Daniel telling the Babylonian King Baltazzar that his disturbing dream about mysterious handwriting on the wall was the death knell for his kingdom.
By hearing them in the Christian context, these tales from Hebrew scriptures are meant to be taken personally by us all these centuries later; the handwriting on the wall, time to face up to our own personal end of time.
“The Gospel tells us we need to do something to prepare,” said Father Gomes. “You’ve seen that poster ‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life.’ It could also be that today is the last day of the rest of your life.”
He pointed to typical islander behavior at hurricane season. Despite being surrounded and pounded by media preparedness advice for months, “when the hurricane is actually approaching, that’s when people are out in the markets shopping, panicky because they are not prepared.”
We’re not meant to be panicky as we wrap up the liturgical year. The Catholic Catechism, the blueprint we’ve had for our lifetime, gives us the Christian perspective. “We should live in the fullness of life, not worrying about death,” Father Gomes said. He referred to Pope Francis’ description as death being the “doorway to God’s kingdom … the only way we can get from here to heaven.”
His mention of the catechism took me back to first grade when our introduction to Catholic belief was the Baltimore catechism from which we memorized answers to key questions such as “Why did God make you?”
We answered in sing-song unison “God made me to know Him, love Him and serve Him in this world and to be happy with Him forever in heaven.”
Next question: “What must we do to save our souls?”
Answer: “To save our souls, we must worship God with faith, hope and charity, that is we must believe in Him, hope in Him and love Him with all our heart.”
I remember quaking with anxiety about getting the memorized answer right should I be singled out when Father Keagan came to the classroom. That was a long time ago and other catechism class graduates and I reminisce about the fire and brimstone focus of stern nuns putting “the fear of God” into the brains of kids who were trending toward naughty.
We moved on from their clutches into adulthood where we came to discover whether the teachings of what God expects of us actually took root, as we found ourselves striving to meet the expectations of family and friends, the requirements of employers, our measure as neighbor or citizen of a tiny place or whole planet, and fighting off our dark inclinations to lapse into the deteriorating norms of behavior in our society or culture. If the teaching took, we have thought about our death all our life, any time we faced a temptation to lie a little to cut myself some slack, profit by cheating, slack off on commitments, dive into degrading relationships or entertainment. Ding, a catechism moment: How will I explain this when I’m at heaven’s door?
The Old Testament stories this month were full of times when the Jews strayed off the path of God’s chosen people, accepted the ways of the many conquering forces down through the years and began worshipping idols and breaking their religious laws. The heroes in the stories were Jews who would rather die than violate God’s law, and Daniel was one of them, surviving incarceration in a lion’s den. Several times we had readings from the two books of Maccabees, including the tale of an honored scribe who died because he refused to eat pork, which was forbidden by Jewish law, and a mother who watched her seven sons be killed one by one for the same thing.
After all the deaths of righteous people, Maccabees’ leader Mattathias and his sons rallied their downtrodden people who eventually drove the Seleucid Empire forces of King Antiochus from Judah.
We’re not the only ones embracing this story of triumph by God’s people at this time of the year. The story is the basis of the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah which is celebrated with a ritual of candle-lighting that is based on what we’d call a miracle. According to the Scriptures, the Jews worked to restore the Temple, clearing it of idols and purifying it of pagan defilement. They found a tiny amount of consecrated oil left from Jewish ritual, placed it in a lamp for the rededication of the Temple. The lamp remained alight for eight days despite the miniscule amount of fuel.
Hanukkah will be celebrated from Dec. 22 to 30 — dates set by the Hebrew lunar calendar — by Jewish families around the globe gathering each night to light one candle at a time. It’s a Thanksgiving celebration centuries old.
As we celebrated our national Thanksgiving holiday this week, it brought to mind the above-mentioned Nov. 17 Mass in Rome. The Vatican marked that day as World Day of the Poor, which Pope Francis established in 2016. He hosted 1,500 poor people at a luncheon that day, then dedicated a new shelter for the homeless in a former convent near St. Peter’s Square. The church in a few other countries marked the day with similar events. It hasn’t caught on in the United States yet, but I suppose we get credit for the Thanksgiving tradition of communal meals for the poor served by churches and community service agencies, such as the Salvation Army’s annual Honolulu event.
Whoa, wait. What am I doing talking about the T-word? Where was I, now, talking about the November focus on dire events and death.
Oh, I give up. How can I focus on the darkness, dire and death when our liturgical calendar gives us the triumphant feast of Christ the King as the finale each year. We can be thankful that next Sunday is the beginning of Advent, all about looking forward to Christmas when God gives us the light of the world.
The November chronicle of dire events did kinda continue into the Gospel used for Christ the King this year, Luke’s account of the crucifixion. It ends with the words of the man who hung on a cross beside Jesus, the guy we used to identify as the “good thief.” Rebuking his sarcastic fellow criminal who taunted Jesus, he said “We have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said to Our Lord: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
“He replied to him, ‘Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” That’s what he’s told all of us.
Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
