Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary TimeWell, it’s August. And you know what that means: school is just around the corner. By this time, parents are probably looking forward to the start of school, and I’m reminded of that Target commercial, where the kids are standing in the school supplies aisle, looking dejected, while the parent goes up and down the aisle on his cart like a scooter, and the song, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” plays. Hopefully, summer break was restful and relaxing, and it is a great time to get away, to experience “Pure Michigan,” and to put behind you the worries of work or school.
Vacation is the perfect time to set aside the daily grind. This is especially true if you can set aside your smart phone, and truly disconnect from the hustle and bustle of the daily routine. I know that can sometimes be difficult, but I know that when I really get a chance to unplug from work, it’s like a burden being lifted from my shoulder, so that I can come back with renewed energy to shepherd this parish.
St. Paul tells us today to “seek what is above.” He reiterates himself: “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” So we know that he really means it. He does not mean that we can ignore our daily responsibilities indefinitely. But he does tell us to concentrate on heavenly things, the things that make us open to God’s grace, rather than the things of earth, by which he means the things that are sinful, like “immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and…greed.”
Jesus, too, reminds us to not obsess about earthly things, because they can disappear so quickly. The man in the parable is not condemned for working hard and gaining riches, but for only making plans to make more riches and focusing on his wealth. As Solomon said in the first reading, “Here is one who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill, and yet to another who has not labored over it, he must leave property.” It’s not a problem if riches are not the focus of life; it’s just another reality of this passing world. But if, instead, we have made money our main focus, our god, then the thought of losing it would be devastating. But not as devastating as realizing at the end of our life that the things that last don’t really have to do with money, or any earthly things, but the things that are above.
Lifting up our hearts is like our weekly vacation from the world, a weekly reminder to set our hearts on the things which are above. It’s no accident that this invitation comes right before the Eucharistic Prayer, the holiest part of the Mass, where the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus. Jesus Himself invites us to come to him, we who labor and are burdened, and have a rest. That doesn’t mean you can fall asleep right now! But it does mean that we can be at ease and not concern ourselves with work, with our daily anxieties, with our smart phones, but just be in the presence of God.
Church buildings are meant to put our minds and hearts at rest, like we were in the Garden of Eden (before the Fall). Church architecture is meant to put our mind at ease, because our minds understand that this type of building is different than a school, a gym, a bank, or a store. The music is meant, not to get us riled up or excited, but to help us rest. We train our readers so that they can read well and not make us wonder, “What was that he or she said?” We train our servers to assist at the altar and not draw attention to themselves, but let our attention be put on the prayers that we say and hear, and the symbols that we see and hear (and sometimes smell). The more a church looks like a church, the easier that is. The more that we keep to what the Church has perfected over our two millennia in our sacred liturgy, the more the symbols and signs speak to us what they mean, rather than muddling the message with our own words and meanings.
If our hearts are focused on what is earthly, then rest, the rest that God wants us to have on His day, our Christian Sabbath, will not seem like rest. It will seem odd, peculiar, and yes, boring. But if we are practiced at setting our hearts on things that are above, then our earthly liturgy will prepare us for the heavenly liturgy, that rest that is our inheritance as children of God.
Especially in our days when life seems to be moving so quickly and our hearts and minds go from one concern to another, we need to reclaim the rest that we deserve, that God wants for us, each Sunday we come to Mass (and at daily Masses, too!). Every time you hear, “Lift up your hearts,” don’t lift up your arms, but “seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.” In the words of the ancient hymn from the Divine Liturgy of St. James, “Let all mortal flesh keep silence, / And with fear and trembling stand; / Ponder nothing earthly minded, / For with blessing in His hand. / Christ our God to earth descending, / Our full homage to demand.”
We’re reminded of this every time we come to Mass. In the preface dialogue, I invite the people to “Lift up your hearts.” I’m not inviting you to lift up your arms, which is very simple, but misses the point of that invitation. The invitation is not to lift up our arms, but to lift up our hearts. That’s much harder, but it’s much more powerful.
