Last February, Heaven is for Real – a book about a little boy’s near-death experience – reached #1 on the best-seller list. Proof of Heaven, a much more complex book written by a neurosurgeon, has sold more than two million copies since it was first published last year. These two books are not the only best-sellers about near-death experiences and the afterlife, because all of us are drawn to the perennial question: What happens to us when we die?
It’s striking how today’s Scriptures (Isaiah 5:1-7 and Luke 12:54-56), with their warnings of the coming judgment, resonate with today’s news … from stories of war (and the human struggle for peace)… to stories of climate change (and the planet’s struggle to adjust)… to our own very personal struggles to change ourselves before it’s too late.
We’re going shopping… in a world of plastic.
Do you remember a recent shopping trip? What did the store look like? What caught your eye? I remember going shopping when I first moved back to the United States after three years abroad. (In1970, we moved from 3 years in the Middle East to the American Midwest – and moving from Beirut, Lebanon to Columbus, Ohio was the biggest culture shock of my life.)
When we left for Beirut, Rob was just finishing graduate school, and now he was going to have a real salary – and that meant I didn’t need to worry about every penny when I was shopping. (I’m not talking about sudden wealth here, just having enough to buy the basics without undue stress.)
Shopping in Beirut was a lot of fun, even a cultural adventure. It meant learning some Arabic and even more French, the languages of the markets. It mean going out every day to very small shops and sometimes to the downtown souk – carrying our shopping bags, like everyone else. And, since our boys were very little, when we took them along they were mostly unaware of things to buy. The most tempting thing for little boys was probably the bananas in the tiny shop across our street… where the owner, when he saw them, would just give them a piece of candy or a bit of bread (no charge).
When we moved from Beirut to the Midwest, Rob had an even better salary – and I had even more money to shop with. Our boys were now 3 and 4, the perfect ages to notice all the things for sale along the aisles, and especially the toys and candy and the little cars and trucks wrapped in gleaming plastic. How to get through the aisles without a melt-down? How to check out without buying candy or a new truck?
In today’s Gospel (Luke 10:38-42) Jesus is welcomed into a small house in Bethany, near Jerusalem. We know this story, because we remember Martha and Mary – but notice that the story is about more than the two sisters; it’s also a story about hospitality.
In our first reading (Genesis 18:1-10 ), three travelers come to Abraham and Sarah’s tent in the desert. And this story is about more than Abraham and Sarah; it, too, is a story of hospitality.
These are the stories of our spiritual ancestors. And, as the stories were told again and again, the dwelling places – the house, the tent – became symbols of hospitality. We can find Abraham’s tent in the earliest art of the Christian church – with the three visitors an icon for the Holy Trinity, gathered in mutual love around Sarah’s table. We can find Jesus with Martha and Mary, the Son of God sharing the intimacy of a family meal, in great paintings from the Renaissance.
The more traditional the society, the more rules there are for hospitality. There are rules about food and drink; rules for men and women; rules for the family, and rules for visitors. But notice that in both of today’s stories at least one of the traditional rules is broken.
A Homily for St. Benedict’s Day – July 14, 2013
The Gospel for St. Benedict’s Day tells us to count the cost. Jesus tells his disciples, Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple… Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost? … You cannot become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” (Luke 14:27f)
St. Benedict’s Rule tells members of the community to share everything. Benedict looked to the earliest Christians for his guide to community life: All things should be the common possession of all, so no one presumes to call anything his own; distribution was made to each one as he had need. (Acts 4:32f)
In her book, Life Abundant, theologian Sallie McFague tells us love without economics is empty rhetoric. She writes, We cannot love the world and everything in it unless we take economics with utter seriousness.