Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time B
A
Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments
with her very young class.
with her very young class.
After
explaining, “Honor thy father and thy mother,”
she
asked, “Is there a commandment that teaches us
how
to treat our brothers and sisters?”
Which
is when a little boy from a big family immediately answered,
“Thou
shall not kill.”
If
Jesus were taking questions today,
chances
are he wouldn’t be asked,
“Which
commandment is the most important?”
Much
more likely would be,
Why are there so many
commandments?
Why are there commandments
at all?
Couldn’t we drop just a few? (And I’ve got suggestions!) (cf. G. Rutler)
The
scribe who approaches Jesus in the gospel
is
someone who clearly
knows and loves the commandments.
He
already knows the answer to his own question.
Every
Jew did—and still does—
because it is repeated daily:
Sh'ma Yisrael
Adonai
Eloheinu Adonai Eḥad;
“Hear,
O Israel:
the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”
Twice
each day—at its beginning and its end—
this
statement of faith
is dutifully recited from memory.
So…why
did the scribe ask?
Maybe
he recognized in Jesus
someone
who knew and loved the commandments
even
more than he did;
maybe
the scribe recognized an opportunity
to
keep these from being just another string of well-worn words,
but
to find in them a message
with
the power to change his life—
even
to change the world.
I
am the product of 22 years of Catholic education—
for
which I’ll be forever grateful.
I’ve
earned three separate degrees in religious fields.
And
yet—I’m embarrassed to admit—
I can’t
list the Ten Commandments in order—
never
could, actually.
You
see, I grew up in an era
(one
which I don’t believe is quite over yet)
when
religious education spent a lot more time
on creative
craft projects than teaching creeds.
Memorizing
things—like the sacraments or the commandments,
like
works of mercy or gifts of the Holy Spirit—
simply
wasn’t a priority.
And
I—along with a few generations of Catholics—
suffer
for it still.
The
Catholic faith, of course, is much, much more
than
a series of memorized prayers and lists.
But—like
the alphabet or multiplication tables
when
it comes to general knowledge—
such
carefully studied religious knowledge is absolutely foundational
to
a truly adult and flourishing faith.
(cf. D. Impasto)
Take
the Lord’s Prayer, for example.
It’s
certainly not the only way in which I pray.
But
it does set a pattern;
it
has taught me how—like Jesus—to approach my heavenly Father.
And
in those moments when words escape me—
times
when prayer is generally needed most—
it
provides me with a sure and comforting way to speak to God.
One
of the reasons we need a new evangelization—
why
our Pope has called for the current Year of Faith—
is
that so many Catholics these days know so very little
when
it comes to the fundamentals of our tradition.
In
the greatest of his commands God has asked for our all…
…and
yet part of us wonders, “What’s the least it’ll take to get by?”
We
human beings tend to look for shortcuts;
we try
to jump ahead to the happy ending.
And
so we’ve attempted to hand on the faith
without
all that much serious study or disciplined practice.
The
result? A fast-growing religious
illiteracy.
Studies
show that U.S. Catholic youth
now
rank lower in religious knowledge
than
any other group—including nonbelievers.
(cf.
Gallup, Pew, CARA)
It’s
little wonder so many wander away!
The
good news? It doesn’t have to be
this way!
We can
change this!
As individual
Catholics, as a Church,
we
must be well-grounded in the basics
before
we can make any real progress;
souls
must first have firm footing
if
we truly want to see them soar. (cf. N. Goldstein)
As famous
convert G. K. Chesterton once put it,
“The
point of having an open mind, like having an open mouth,
is
to close it on something solid.”
When
was the last time you made a personal effort
to
learn something new about the faith?
When
was the last time you went out of your way
to
help a young Catholic do the same?
And
why shouldn’t that be a regular part of our lives?
We should
never settle for a purely “rote religion”—
one
of rituals and repetition without any real depth.
But
there’s a good reason we call it “learning by heart.”
Like
the scribe in the gospel,
let
us never tire of asking questions,
of
looking for answers, of digging ever-deeper.
It’s
evidence that we long to love God
with
all our heart and soul and strength…
…and
with all our mind as well.
No comments:
Post a Comment