I read about a Father O’Malley in Ireland who looked out the window one day and noticed a donkey lying dead on the lawn. He promptly called the local police. The conversation went like this. “Good morning. This is Sergeant Smith. How might I help you?” “The best of the day to you, Sergeant. This is Father O’Malley at St. Mary’s. There’s a donkey lying dead on my front lawn, and would you be so kind as to send some lads over to take care of the matter?”Sergeant Smith thought he would have a little fun, and replied, “Well now, Father, it was always my impression that you took care of the last rites.” O’Malley replied deftly, “Yes, it’s true, but we are obliged to notify next of kin first, which is the reason for the call.” Moral of the story: don’t mess with an Irish pastor.
The word of God takes us back to the wanderings of the Hebrews in the wilderness after their escape or liberation or freedom from their oppressors in Ancient Egypt. The Book of Numbers takes its title from the “numbering” or census of the Hebrews. A better title for this Book might have been “Grumblings.” It is a long, sad story about discontent.
Here Moses asks God to breathe his spirit upon the 70 people gathered. But God surprisingly breathes his spirit not only upon these 70 but also upon two others who weren’t even there. So Joshua complains to Moses: stop these two from prophesying, from speaking in God’s name. And Moses simply answers: the spirit or presence of God breathes and works wherever God wants.
God’s word challenges us to recognize the presence of God in the most unlikely places and in the most questionable people and in the most improbable religious traditions.
The word also invites us to pray anew for the seven gifts or energies of the Spirit already in us by virtue of our baptism and in us fully by virtue of our confirmation: wisdom to focus on what truly matters, our relationship with God and one another; understanding and knowledge, to enter deeply into the mysteries of God and the truths of our faith; counsel to make good moral decisions; fortitude or strength of character to stand up for what is right; piety or giving God, our creator, our creaturely praise and worship; and finally fear of the Lord or the healthy concern never to lose our friendship with God.
The author of the letter of James speaks about people who become so absorbed in earthly things that they forget their ultimate purpose: to be in relationship with God in our earthly life, and beyond in a heavenly life. James challenges us to spend our energies, not on transitory treasures like money and power and celebrity status, but on lasting treasures like our relationships with God and one another.
A medieval play called “Everyman” captures this theme powerfully. God asks death to tell “everyman” (who symbolizes you and me) that everyman’s life on earth is over. Everyman then asks his “friends” wealth, power and celebrity status to accompany him, but they refuse. In the end, everyman gets only one friend to join him: Good Works. The point is simple: When death comes for us, only the good we have done will accompany us into the mystery of death.
In the Gospel according to Mark, Jesus speaks about “tough love.” One issue we should settle quickly: Jesus was not recommending self-mutilation. His speech was a Semitic way of speaking graphically, vividly and exaggeratedly, to make a point.
Today we might imagine Jesus saying to someone: if job security leads you to compromise your ethics and integrity, quit. Better to be employed elsewhere than be thrown into “Gehenna” with all your benefits.
“Gehenna,” you may know, was a smoldering garbage dump outside Jerusalem which came to symbolize “eternal punishment.”
Jesus, in harsh words about “cutting off” and “plucking out,” not to be understood literally, dramatically calls us to realize that discipleship means not letting anything – anything! – derail us in our quest for God and the things of God; not allowing the pursuit of wealth, security, or status to derail us from our true purpose in life: to be in relationship with God and one another forever by living a God-centered, other-centered life.
Yes, we have to have the courage of faith to “let go” and remove from our lives whatever cuts us off from God and family and loved ones.
Throughout history, people have written to us, taught us, about “seizing the day.”The 19th century author and humorist Mark Twain wrote: “Years from now we will be more disappointed by the things we didn’t do than by the ones we did.” Think about it. Twain urges us to live a life of no regrets.
The popular lecturer Leo Buscaglia, who wrote books like “Living, Loving and Learning,” had a student who wrote a reflection during the Vietnam War with a straightforward message: don’t regret something because you didn’t do it; you only live once as the saying goes; it’s the real thing; and to the extent that our lives are in our own hands, do good now, not later; don’t regret not doing it as the rich man regretted not helping Lazarus. The student’s reflection, titled “Things You Didn’t Do,” concludes:
“You put up with me and you loved me. There were lots of things I wanted to thank you for when you returned from Vietnam. “But you never did return!!!”
A compelling message: don’t live a life of regrets. Do good now.
Quietly sit down somewhere and begin to think about your own obituary. What do you want to be remembered for? Which reminds me of a newspaper story about the Pulitzer prize winner Rudyard Kipling, the early 20th century British author and poet. He subscribed to a newspaper which published by mistake an announcement of his death. So Kipling wrote to the editor: “I’ve just read that I’m dead. Don’t forget to delete me from your list of subscribers.”
Yes, today we might ask the Spirit of God to re-energize us so that we will have our priorities straight, that we will not let anything derail us from our true purpose in life: to be in relationship with God forever, and that we will try, as best we can, to live a life of no regrets by doing good now.
