Interiorlizing the Rules

 Third Sunday of Lent
    There are many good jokes about those who study the liturgy, who are often called liturgists (of which I am one).  For example: what’s the difference between a vampire and a liturgist?  One is a blood-sucking, dark creature of the night, and the other turns into a bat.  Or what’s the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist?  You can negotiate with a terrorist.
    

What is it about those who love the liturgy that makes these jokes have just the right amount of a ring of truth?  Maybe at times you have felt that I have been immovable or inflexible when you thought I should be.  I think part of the reality is that those who have studied the liturgy understand the rules of the Mass, just like athletes and coaches understand the rules of the game.  If you find a really good athlete (one example that comes to my mind is Peyton Manning), you can see the art in how he or she competes in the sport.  When Peyton Manning was quarterback, it was poetry in motion watching him read the field, pass the ball, and avoid getting sacked.  Over his years of play, and with a good dose of God-given talent, Peyton went from simply thinking about the rules, to implementing the rules in a way that created beauty.  But imagine if Peyton didn’t understand rules on a false start, or an ineligible receiver.  Those games would have been ugly for the teams for which Peyton played.  The game would have been slow and clunky, and Peyton would not have won many, if any, games, and certainly not two Super bowls.  
    So for those who study the Mass and the Sacraments, they have made the rules a part of how they operate at Mass, such that it no longer looks like they are think about the rules, but are more naturally flowing, as is it’s a part of who they are while they’re at Mass.  For those who don’t understand or who have never been trained, it’s just a lot of dos and don’ts.  
    When we hear about Jesus cleansing the temple today (which in John’s Gospel happens towards the beginning, while the other Gospel accounts put it closer to Jesus’ Passion), we might wonder what Jesus’ problem was.  After all, people needed oxen, sheep, and doves for the temple.  They needed to exchange their foreign currency, often with the image of an emperor or king who considered himself a god, with money that did not have graven images and could be used in the temple.  In fact, the word profane comes the Latin words pro and fanum, meaning outside the temple.  To be profane was to be something that could only be used outside the temple, because it was not worthy of God.  
    But Jesus, who, as God, inspired David and Solomon to build the temple, and inspired the plans for the temple which was meant to represent heaven, knew the rules.  He knew how the temple was supposed to go, and what were “penalties.”  And so Jesus cleansed the temple to restore it to what it was meant for: the worship of God according to the pattern of heaven, rather than a marketplace.  
    So, too, for us, we are invited to give our best to God each time we come to Mass.  That can mean dressing a little better for Mass than we do for our weekdays.  It can mean trying to focus more than we usually do when someone is reading to us or speaking to us.  In whatever way we can, we want to give God our best, and enter into His plan and His rules for the Mass because it allows the beauty of the heavenly realm to begin to break-in to our earthly world.
    But it also applies to life in general, the extension of the Mass that we live out day-to-day.    When we hear the Ten Commandments, as we heard them this morning, we may just think of them as a long list of “Thou shalt not.”  But, in fact, while we are told not to do things, the rejection of sin and evil allows us to thrive and to live the life that truly makes us happy.  That may, at times, seem counterintuitive.  After all, it might seem nice to yell out a swear word or take God’s Name in vain when we hit our thumb with a hammer or stub our toe.  Or it might seem better not to have to worry about coming to Mass on Sunday, and just sleep in and do whatever tasks we left after watching sports on Saturday.  Or maybe we don’t want to be tied down to just one spouse; or we think it would make us happier just to take whatever we want, whenever we want, from whomever we want.  And certainly if my spouse asks me if this dish that’s called dinner tastes good, lying would be so much easier!
    But, in fact, that’s like saying that it would be easier to play football if your offensive line could line up however they wanted, and move whenever they wanted.  Or if Peyton could throw to whomever he wanted, rather than having only certain people who can be eligible receivers.  And those are just man-made rules for a man-made game.  The Ten Commandments are God’s rules for the world, which God created, and so He knows exactly how things are to be done to be beautiful and bring happiness.  
    Even the most simple, made-up game by children has rules that allow them to have fun, to find joy, and to allow the game to proceed as it’s intended by its creator.  So, too, with life: there are rules to allow us to participate well, and to win the imperishable crown that awaits those who win at life.  God gives us those rules because He loves us, and He knows how we will truly be happy.  Today let’s recommit ourselves to entering into the rules of life, not simply to do this or not do that, but to allow God’s grace, which truly makes us alive, to operate in us as easily as Peyton Manning plays football.