Interdependence not Independence

 Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    Think about the great milestones in a person’s life that we celebrate: first steps; going to school; riding a bicycle without training wheels; driving; going to college; buying your first house.  What do all those have in common?  They are all about independence.  It’s not so amazing that a child walks while his or her parents are holding on; it’s noteworthy (as well as the beginning of a new, scary part of childhood) when the child can walk on his or her own.  Yes, kids first learn how to drive with a parent in the car.  But when do we really celebrate?  When you can drive on your own.  Going off to college is, yes, going to a large group of people in a new place (at least before COVID), but it’s striking out on one’s own away from parents.  And buying one’s own house (or apartment) means, generally, that you’re not living with your parents anymore.
    There’s nothing in se wrong with this, but look at how much we celebrate independence and individuality and doing things on one’s own.  We celebrate when a person doesn’t need another person anymore, but can do something on his or her own.  I can tell you that I really knew I was an adult when my parents didn’t have to pay for their own birthday dinners, but I paid the check.
    And yet, our readings today all talk about interdependence, rather than independence.  Let’s start with the Gospel.  Jesus recognizes that there will be conflicts among His disciples.  While He calls them to love one another, He also realizes that we do not always do that.  And so, Jesus says that if our fellow disciple sins against us, we are to deal with it, not independently (by gossiping and holding on to grudges by ourselves), but interdependently, by telling our brother or sister that they have sinned against us, and need to repent.  If the other doesn’t listen to us, we invite others who have knowledge of the fault to bolster our case.  If the other doesn’t listen to them, we invite the church to get involved (notice that running to tell the priest is not the first step!).  If the other won’t even listen to the church, then we can work on separating from them.  The process of reconciliation is not one-sided in Jesus’ church, but always works with at least two.
    In our second reading, St. Paul tells us that we are to love one another, because love fulfills the law.  Love, by its very nature, is diffusive.  It seeks an outlet.  Self-love is not really what is meant by love.  Yes, we have to care for ourselves, but if we truly love, then it always involves the way we treat each other.  All of the commandments that we are bound to keep, are examples of ways that we should love each other.  We cannot say that we are keeping the commandments if we cut everyone else out of our life or only do what is best for ourselves.  That narcissism is part and parcel of our current culture, but it’s anathema for followers of Jesus.
    And lastly, in our first reading, Ezekiel talks about the shepherds of Israel.  He’s not talking about people who care for sheep, but people who care for people, the religious leaders.  And God says through Ezekiel that shepherds have a responsibility to look out for others, to warn them about sin and death, so that they can avoid it.  When the shepherds warn about sin and death, they also save themselves.  If they don’t warn the sheep about sin and death, not only do the sheep die, but God promises to hold the shepherds responsible, too.  
    As followers of Jesus, we are interdependent.  What we do affects each other.  We are our brother’s keeper.  We cannot simply say that we’re doing the right thing, so let the world go to hell in a hand basket.  We have a responsibility towards each other, especially as fellow believers.  
    There’s a word that we have when a follower of Jesus doesn’t do publicly what he or she is supposed to do, and that word is scandal.  We currently associate that work with priests who committed horrible crimes against the most innocent, and that is certainly a horrible scandal.  But scandal applies to all, not just priests and not just about sexual abuse.  When a Catholic says publicly that he or she supports abortion, euthanasia, artificial contraception, sex outside of marriage, marriage between two people of the same sex, or that sex has no connection to biology, that is a scandal, because Catholics are not to support such practices or ideas because they are contrary to God’s revelation.  When a Catholic makes derogatory comments about a person simply because of that person’s race, gender, IQ, economic status, or religion, that is a scandal, because Catholics are called to show respect to every person as created in the image and likeness of God.  As Catholics we can judge certain beliefs and actions to be wrong without judging another because God has revealed to us that those things are wrong.  Sin, too, is always interdependent: it always effects more than simply the person committing the sin.  We are both to work so that we are not a scandal to others, as well as work to correct others so that they are not a scandal to the world.
    G.K. Chesterton, an early 20th century Catholic author said, “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.”  So often, when we come to a difficult part of our faith, we try to be independent, to make it on our own, or to choose to reject what the Church calls us to believe or how the Church calls us to live.  We owe it to Jesus, and to each other, to be interdependent; to help each other live as followers of Jesus.  Catholicism is not a religion of independence; it’s a religion of interdependence which calls us to care for and to challenge each other to be the saints that God call us to be in Baptism.

How Much to be a Disciple?

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
    How much?  We’ve probably all asked that question, usually buying something.  How much?  Maybe we’ve asked it when we were ready to start haggling over the price, whether listed on the product or told us.  How much?
    So it might seem weird for Jesus to talk about the “cost” of discipleship.  He invites us to ask ourselves if we have enough to be His disciple, using the image of a builder about to construct a tower, or even a king about to attack another kingdom with his army.  In both cases, the individual has to ask: do I have enough? 
    I would hazard a guess that the questions, “How much?” and “Do I have enough?” are probably not questions we readily associate with discipleship.  After all, we can all come to Jesus as we are, right?  How do those questions make any sense?
    And that’s exactly what Jesus wants, and what Jesus deserves.  God gave us everything.  Everything we have in life comes as a gift.  Even that for which we toil is indirectly a gift, as our ability to work is itself a gift from God.  So what does the One who gave us everything deserve back?  Everything. 
    That may seem like a lot, but there are probably some people in our life to whom we wouldn’t mind giving our all.  While married couples may not give their all perfectly, they certainly try to give their spouse anything he or she needs.  Parents, even if misdirected to things of lesser importance, sacrifice just about everything for their children.  Sometimes even simply good friends are the ones from whom we would sacrifice anything: time, effort, money. 
    Think about how foolish it would be to barter when it came to a person we loved.  Imagine a husband saying to a wife, “I’ll give you everything that I am, but you’re going to have to let me keep my weird habit of (fill in the blank).”  If he loves her, and she says that he has to give up whatever for her, he will do it.  The same could be said vis versa.  And if we’re not willing to give that whatever up, then it’s safe to say that we don’t fully love that person.  Of course, a person who truly loves us won’t make us give up anything which is good for us.  But a person who truly loves us does insist that we give up things which cause us harm.
    So, now think of Jesus.  How often do we say, “Jesus, I love you, but if you make me give up (fill in the blank), then I’m going to leave you”?  We may not say it directly, but it’s what’s in our mind at times.  For young people, it’s often the Church’s teaching on sexual morality.  For some families it’s the Church’s insistence that we gather each Sunday and Holyday to worship God at Mass.  I think for others, it has to do with our convenience.
    Right now there’s a committee with representation from across the Diocese looking at how many priests we’re going to have retiring and being ordained in the next 5-10 years, and what that will mean for parishes.  I’ve mentioned this before, but over the next four years, we have around 20-25 priests who will be eligible for retirement, but will only be ordaining around 5 priests.  That’s a net loss of 15-20 priests.  So expecting that each parish will have the same amount of Masses in the same number of places is simply unrealistic.  I’m not clairvoyant when I say that some churches will likely close, others will merge, and Mass times will be different.  And, I know that when Mass times change, people leave; that happened here.  And while for some people, Mass at a particular time is not possible because of a work schedule, and for others it’s not practical due to getting children ready, there are no small amount of cases where I’ve heard and been told that if it’s not the time that person wants, he’s leaving.  Which is to say, “Jesus, I’ll only give you everything if it’s not too inconvenient.” 
    This is also a great reminder for us to pray for vocations.  Sometimes parents are open to having priests, as long as it doesn’t come from their family.  But all young men should be open to a vocation to priesthood.  Maybe that’s how a young man is to give his all to Jesus.
    I’m have no plans to change our Mass schedule.  But if we, in the future, went down to one Mass, would you stop going altogether?  What’s most important is not so much where we go, but that we go.  Changes to parish structures all across the Diocese of Lansing are bound to happen.  Will we stick with Jesus no matter what the configuration is?  No matter what the future holds, are we willing to give Jesus everything?  Are we willing to take up our cross, and give our all to Jesus?

Jesus doesn’t do “gotchas.”  He lets us know that following him has a cost, and that cost is everything.  That’s what He means when He says that we have to “hate” family, and even our own life, and have to take up our cross and follow Him.  On the cross, a person lost everything.  You were separated from family, not being able to join them, but being fastened to the wood of the cross.  You were separated from any dignity, not only because you were killed as a criminal, but, as most scholars say, you were naked as the day you were born.  And of course, you were separated from life, as you slowly asphyxiated, where your lungs filled with fluid and your breaths became more and more shallow until you could breathe no more.  Being on the cross meant giving your all.