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The inner word

02 Nov 2014 - Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls’ Day), Cycle A

It’s been a long day, like many of your days. Someone calls or shows up at the door late at night asking for help. Do you ignore the call? Turn them away at the door? Jesus promised not to reject anyone who came to him. We are not Jesus, and sometimes we fall short, but at least we have a standard to try to live up to. Take a deep breath and welcome the next stranger to cross your path.

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The inner word

30 Jan 2011 - Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Today's readings show the special place the poor and the just have in God's heart. Consider the following questions as you ready yourself to preach on this week's readings, which include the Beatitudes, one of the great passages from all of religious literature: How can you lead the members of your parish to be even better ministers to the hungry, the poor, the abandoned, the disabled? In what ways have the times you felt weak actually made you stronger? "The Lord protects strangers," says today's psalm. Are there strangers in your community who need your and your community's protection? Are there others, like Catholics who have left the church, whom you could welcome and thus make them "strangers" no more?

Poor poverty beatitudes stranger
The inner word

17 Jul 2016 - Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

If three mysterious strangers appeared at your door, would you, as Abraham did, beg them to stay—let alone even let them in? Would you frantically take care of them and get a huge meal ready? Maybe you would if you had a feeling they were something more than they seemed and might have something very important to say. In his monastic Rule Saint Benedict said, “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me (Matthew 25:35).”

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Exploring the word

25 Aug 2019 - Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Being an insider appeals to some aspect of our psychology that loves to be recognized as special. But it’s also highly practical. If you know the password, for example, your call will be answered by a live person instead of a machine. If you can drop the right name, your party may gain access to the restaurant ahead of the queue. If you are a card-carrying member, the privileges of the club are available to you. But if the gatekeeper of the establishment, whether personal or automated, doesn’t recognize you, your call will be answered in the order in which it is received. So please hang up and try again when you have plenty of time to kill. One of the ways to avoid hair-tearing delays is to frequent places regularly enough to gain instant recognition. I go to the Mexican joint down the street. The waiters there know that I want “the usual,” and even the bandleader plays what has become my theme song whenever he catches sight of me in the doorway. Being a regular has its advantages. Before I was a recognizable figure, I never knew I had a theme song. Recognition means a lot of other things, too: a cheerful greeting from the clerk at the checkout line and a little extra service from the garbage man. Sometimes you get a baker’s dozen at the donut shop or free samples from the woman who cuts your hair. Being known makes for a tighter, warmer community all around. The stranger in the room How different, then, is the experience of the stranger who wanders into the neighborhood! Hearty hellos are few and far between. You may be regarded with suspicion, and if you have a foreign look about you, with contempt. Nobody will give you a line of credit, and the bank wants three kinds of i.d. before they’ll even cash your check. The isolation of being a virtual unknown is difficult and only desirable or practical for those who are wanted by the police or an ex-sweetheart. But God views the insider-outsider boundaries that human society establishes and then coolly moves past them. At the start of the story, God brokered a deal with one man, Abraham, and his family. Later, God embraced the whole nation that emerged from Abraham’s lineage and ratified this choice in law through Moses, and in political authority through David’s house. But by the time of the prophetic tradition, it seems that God is no longer satisfied with having “a people.” God wants to gather all nations and all people in a wanton gesture of love. God ventures beyond clearly defined and heavily codified Israel to embrace folks in Tarshish and Mosoch and Javan, unpronounceable places far off the radar of acceptable neighbors. Some of these people will even be incorporated into the holy and exclusive service of the priesthood—an idea that must have set many a Levite gasping for breath. All God’s children What does it mean, then, to be one of God’s children? Certainly it goes beyond tribal identity. And clearly it’s not a popularity contest, though many contemporary Christians seem unconvinced of this. The Letter to the Hebrews says the true child of God is known as often by his or her trials as by any favoritism or blessing. These “disciplines” are not unlike the restraining conditions under which a child reaches maturity. The hothouse of human experience can seem unbearable at times, but under intolerable conditions the most remarkable life emerges. So too in the spiritual life, where suffering brings forth greater strength and compassion, and sinners paradoxically learn grace from the depth of their own failings. To be counted among God’s own doesn’t mean having the proper birthright or the nice moral resumé or even producing a show of blessings as evidence that you are favored. Does this mean everybody is in automatically? Is God so indiscriminate that no criteria are required to be included? Not quite. Regarding the narrow gate Jesus reveals the narrow gate as a deterrent to those who are still convinced that getting in means flashing religious credentials. Some think Baptism is enough to gain entrance, others will rack up regular sacraments and prayers, and still others believe the trick is to keep the commandments and stockpile good deeds. These are obviously good steps to take if you’re already walking on the right road. But eating and drinking in the Lord’s company is not enough to seal a friendship if you’re sitting at the Table with a stranger. How, then, will we be recognized by Jesus as one of his? By giving our total allegiance to him and his way of life. In Luke’s gospel, that necessarily includes repentance and table fellowship with the poor and lowly. It won’t be enough to eat the holy meal in private and to be acquainted with Jesus’ teachings. If we want to be known by Jesus, we must turn around and head in his direction. Then hang out where he is likely to be found: with the least of these. This is a narrow gate because even the lowly, truth to tell, don’t want to hang out with the lowly. All of us hope for a kinder, gentler world and an easy society free from sadness, vice, and chaos. What we get, however, are friends and family members with problems. People around us struggle under the burdens of disintegrating marriages, wayward children, financial trouble, unemployment, addiction, depression, health crises, and unhealed pasts. Most of us feel the impulse to fly from the approach of such hard company. But that is precisely where Jesus promises to become known to us. Applying the word Choosing the narrow gate Can’t we just write a check to somebody? Charitable giving helps, and counts, in choosing the narrow gate. But becoming known involves the personal as well as the political. Entering into relationship with messy human lives is the training ground for mercy, a prerequisite for the company of Jesus. If the poor recognize us when we walk into a room, chances are Jesus will, too. Related scripture links Abraham’s deal with God: Gen. 12:1-7 Moses and the law: Exod. 19:1-20:17 David and his house: 2 Sam. 7:1-16 The Levites are special: Num. 1:47-54, 3:5-13, 8:16-19

Authors Alice Camille

recognition strangers insiders god's children Narrow gate

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