The Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 14, 2013
Do you want to be close to God? How close? Those may sound like
silly questions because we all want to be as close as possible to God, don’t we?
Isn’t that what our life of faith is all about? Yes, but maybe it’s not
quite that simple.
I remember visiting a parishioner in the hospital
who was hovering between life and death. It wasn’t at all clear that he
was going to make it. During our visit, I remember asking him if he was
able to pray. “It’s hard, he said, but I do pray.” Then he added,
“Do you know what my prayer is, Father? My prayer is ‘Lord, be close to
me, but not too close!’” I think I got the point. He was certainly being
honest! We all want God to be close to us, but maybe not too close….
Today’s readings provide some insights on the
closeness of God. In the reading from the Book of Deuteronomy Moses tells
the people that they shouldn’t think of God as remote: up in the sky somewhere,
or far across the sea. No, God is close to you, Moses tells them: God has
written His covenant of love – his Law – not on stone tablets but right in your
hearts.
But recall that Moses was speaking these words
to a people who could rather enjoy a certain distance from God. They
probably weren’t all that different from you and me in that they often liked to
have it both ways. They enjoyed their privileged status as God’s chosen
people, yes, but when push came to shove, they liked to keep their distance from
God -- for the freedom it seemed to bring. Sound familiar? Much of
the Book of Deuteronomy was Moses’ attempt to get the people to understand that
God’s law was a gift, not a burden, and that the way to true freedom was to make
a choice to accept that gift. But as with us, so with them: some gifts can
come too close for comfort – which may be another way of saying that God can
come too close for comfort….
The reading from the letter to the Colossians
addresses this issue of the closeness of God in a very theological way.
The Colossians had, through some unfortunate preaching, gotten caught up in some
erroneous thinking that denied Christ his unique role as mediator and redeemer.
They had come to regard Christ as but one among a host of distant angels or
‘super-beings’ who controlled the universe and who had to be pacified or
appeased. And St. Paul said: Nonsense. Christ is unique and
all-powerful, infinitely above the angels. “He is the very image of the
invisible God, the first-born of all creatures. In him everything in
heaven and on earth was created, things visible and invisible (including those
angelic beings you are so enamored of!).” But then Paul went on to make a
powerful statement about the closeness of God. In Christ, he says, God is
not only close to his creatures, he is one with his creatures! He is “the
fullness of the Godhead in bodily form.” Now I ask you, how much closer
could God possibly be than that!
The gospel parable of the Good Samaritan tells us of
yet another way in which God is close to us – again, maybe too close for
comfort. The startling and unsettling message of this favorite among the
parables is that God is as close to us as our neighbor. But Jesus doesn’t
stop there. He redefines neighbor. For the people to whom Jesus spoke this
parable, neighbors were fellow Jews – people with whom they shared the Promises.
But that wasn’t good enough for Jesus. He wanted to bring people to a new
place. That’s what this parable is about. It’s about stretching the
concept of neighbor beyond what good and reasonable people might think
acceptable and it’s about shrinking the concept of the closeness of God.
Notice how gently and skillfully Jesus goes about
getting this teaching across. He’s the perfect rabbi in this story.
He answers a question by posing another -- which puts me in mind of one of Woody
Allen’s little routines. Someone comes up to a rabbi and asks, “Why do you
rabbis always answer a question with another question?” To which the rabbi
replies: “Why shouldn’t we?!”
In today’s gospel a lawyer poses a question to Jesus
(“Rabbi, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”). And Jesus answers by
posing a question to him (“What is written in the law?”) The lawyer
successfully answers, but has a follow-up question as lawyers often do (“And who
is my neighbor?”). To answer that, Jesus, good rabbi that he is, avoids a
direct answer by telling a parable – a parable that gives the lawyer an answer
he couldn’t possibly have anticipated or wanted. Your neighbor is not who
you think. Your neighbor is not just the friendly fellow next door.
Or the occasional stranger in need. Or even the Gentile of good will.
Your neighbor is also the person you don’t like – including your sworn enemy.
For that is what Samaritans and Jews were to each other: sworn enemies.
They despised each other.
Well, the lawyer seems to have understood this
bombshell of a teaching but it’s not hard, is it, to imagine that he wished he
had never asked the question?
I began by asking how close to God you want to be.
Well, no matter how we answer that question, the fact remains that God is very
close to us. God came as close as possible to us when Jesus took on our
flesh and blood, and Jesus comes equally close to us in the Eucharist we
celebrate - and in our neighbor - including the one we might just as soon avoid.
God is close to us. Maybe sometimes too close for comfort?
Father Michael G. Ryan