What’s the most important work in the world? That, of course, depends on your
criteria. If we look at how much
money people get paid, we’d have to say that movie stars, music makers, and
professional athletes do the most important work in the world. A better argument might be made for
doctors, who cure and comfort the sick—who are among the very first and the
very last people we see in life.
Having grown up on a farm, I could say that farmers do the most
important work: if there were no farmers, there’d be no food, if there were no
food, we wouldn’t be able to eat; if we couldn’t eat, we’d all be pretty
cranky…and it would quickly go down hill from there. One might also make the case that priests do the most
important work, since without the priesthood we wouldn’t have the real presence
of Jesus in the Eucharist or our sins forgiven in Confession.
Have you ever heard of C. S. Lewis? He was an Irish-born writer—the author
of the classic book, The Lion, the Witch,
and the Wardrobe—who taught at Oxford University. He was one of the keenest Christian minds of the 20th
century. One might have expected
him to say that professors do the most important work in the world. But when Mrs. Johnson sent him a letter
in 1955 complaining that a housewife’s work was never-ending and felt like it
was going absolutely nowhere, he gave a reply that was surprising then—and is
even more surprising now, 60 years later: that the work of a housewife (or, as
we’d say today, of a homemaker), “is surely in reality the most important work
in the world.”
If Mr. Lewis were introduced to a woman and asked what she
did for a living, and her reply was, “Oh, I’m just a stay-at-home-mom,” I have no doubt he’d be quite
distressed. He’d be distressed,
not that her career options were limited, but that she didn’t recognize the
great dignity and nobility of her lofty, God-given vocation.
In his letter, C. S. Lewis writes:
[Being a homemaker] is surely
in reality the most important work in the world. What do ships, railways,
miners, cars, government etc exist for except that people may be fed, warmed,
and safe in their own homes? As Dr. Johnson said, “To be happy at home is the
end of all human endeavour”. (1st to be happy, to prepare for being happy in
our own real home hereafter: 2nd in the meantime to be happy in our houses.) We
wage war in order to have peace, we work in order to have leisure, we produce
food in order to eat it. So your job is the one for which all others exist. (Letter to Mrs. Johnson, March 16,
1955)
That’s a different perspective than we’re used to,
right? Here’s another novel idea:
that Jesus spoke of himself as a homemaker. Did you catch it in this Sunday’s gospel? Jesus says, “In my Father's house there
are many dwelling places. If there
were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for
you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also
may be.” Jesus makes a solemn
promise—in the midst of his Last Supper—to make a home for us.
That gospel passage is one of those most commonly chosen to
be read at Catholic Funerals—and for obvious reasons, given its very comforting
message. But when Jesus first
spoke those words, his disciples wouldn’t have thought about death; they would
have thought about a wedding. In
order to better understand what Jesus is saying, we need to know a little bit
about the wedding customs of the day.
Nowadays—despite Church teaching and countless studies to
the contrary—it’s most common for people to live together for a while before
they get married. In the time of
Jesus, however, it was exactly the opposite: a couple would get married, and
then it would be a while before they moved in together. You see, a man and a woman would first
be betrothed. That was much more
than a simple engagement: they exchanged vows, and were considered legally
married. (If the relationship
broke up, they would have to get a divorce.) Then the husband had up to a year to prepare a place for his
new wife. He’d return to his
father’s house, and spend his time and resources to build or renovate a room
for her—the very best he could provide.
And only when everything was ready would he come to take her home, to
start their new life together and man and wife. And only then would they have the wedding feast: their relatives
and the whole community celebrating that a new family was making its home.
Knowing that, let’s listen again to the words of Jesus: “In
my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to
prepare a place for you? And if I
go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so
that where I am you also may be.”
Do you now hear what he’s saying? Jesus wants to be one with us just as husband and wife become
one—just as he is one with the Father.
He wants to share his whole life with us! He’s proven that by laying it down for us. He has vowed to
love us freely, fruitfully, faithfully, and forever—and we have done the same
in our baptismal promises, which we renewed at Easter. Each time we come into this church, he
is bringing us deeper and deeper into his Father’s house. Each time we celebrate the Mass, it’s
Christ’s wedding reception: the celebration that he is taking us into his home
to be with him always.
That’s pretty amazing, right? But what’s the practical import of all this?
We need to make sure we make room for the Lord in our homes. By and large, that means setting aside
space for Jesus in our schedules and priorities—and not just some hidden corner
that’s left over after everything else is taken care of, but the very best,
most valuable spot we can provide.
We must make our relationship with Christ—as individuals and families—our
main concern. One way to help us
do this is to actually make some physical room for God in our houses: to set
aside a little space where we can hang a crucifix or holy picture, where we can
enthrone our Bible or light a candle, that becomes a sacred space for us to
pray—alone or together, in good times or bad. As St. Peter reminds us in the second reading, we are to be
living stones that are built up into a spiritual house. We need to be sure we make a real home
for Jesus in our lives.
We also need to be sure we never lose sight of the home
Jesus has made for us. This is
more than a matter of mansions in the sky, awaiting us down the line in a far distant
heaven. The new life Jesus wants
to share with us is meant to begin right here, right now. He paid for it dearly—with the
price of his own blood—sparing no expense. Let us not neglect his gift! Let us return to this house of the Lord regularly to receive
the sacraments—the great tokens of his love. Let grow in our intimacy with Jesus by speaking with him
daily in prayer. Let us make ourselves
right at home in Christ.
The work of the homemaker is surely the most important in
the world. All other work exists
for it. The Son of God himself has
made it his own. Let’s be sure to
make a home for Jesus in our families, in our daily lives. And let’s be sure to fully move into
the home Jesus has made for us, that we might enjoy the new life he longs to
share with us—now and for all eternity.
