Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time A
The Four Last Things
Part III: Hell
It’s been said that in heaven the cooks will all be French, the
police will all be British, the lovers will all be Italian, and everything will
be organized by Germans. On the
other hand, in hell the cooks will all be British, the police will all be
French, the lovers will all be German, and everything will be organized by Italians!
I want to thank you all for your prayers during this past
week while I was on retreat. It
was truly a graced time of prayer and reflection—without a doubt, the best
retreat I’ve ever made. In fact, I
could say it was a little “taste of heaven”…even if the cook was Italian and
not French. The greater irony is
that, coming off of this heavenly experience, I jump back into our homily
series on the Four Last Things by preaching to you today about uplifting topic
of hell.
We’ve just heard Jesus tell us his parable of the talents. When we hear this story, it’s easy enough
to think of it in terms of our natural abilities—our “talents”—and many a
homily has been given on it inviting folks to get more involved in their parish
and share their God-given gifts.
It also brings to mind the stewardship of our financial resources, providing
many a pastor the opportunity to talk about increasing the collection. Those things are good and important,
but this Sunday we’re going to consider something far more decisive.
The “talent” mentioned in the gospel was an ancient unit of
money, and it’s value varied. A single
silver talent was worth between 15-20 years’ wages of manual laborer. A bronze talent was worth a bit less; a
gold talent, a bit more. In any
case, we’re talking here about a considerable amount of wealth.
The master entrusts his fortune to the care of his servants according
to their ability. Two of his
servants are obviously quite capable, given the large amount they each
receive. And they didn’t
disappoint him: by trade and investment, by their effort and risk-taking, they
earn him a 100% return. (Don’t you
wish you could find a stockbroker like that?)
Then there's that poor third servant, who's quite the opposite of the industrious woman, the worthy wife, described in such glowing terms by Solomon. This one gives back the exact amount he had received. Even if he’d only earned a small return, that would have been better than nothing at all. But he made no effort, took no risk, and simply buried the great wealth that had been given to his care.
The master’s response to this lack of initiative can seem
awfully harsh, especially since nothing was actually lost: the servant had not
squandered his money nor run off with it.
It’s harsh…unless what we’re talking about here is something more valuable
than money. In fact, it’s nowhere
near too harsh if what this parable is really talking about is our salvation.
This Sunday, instead of taking stock of how we’re using our
skills and our finances, let’s take stock of how invested we are in our
Catholic faith. God has entrusted
us with things worth far more than even a huge heap of bronze, silver, and gold. After his Death and Resurrection,
before making the return journey to the Father, Jesus handed over to the care
of his followers some incredible treasures: he’s given us the Church, the seven
sacraments, the holy scriptures, prayer, his Mother Mary and all the saints. By his Blood, Jesus won for us all the
means necessary for our salvation.
What are we doing with them while we await his Coming? Are we putting them to good use? Earning a high return? Or have we buried and hidden them away
for safekeeping? We know our
Master’s high expectations; what are you and I doing to fulfill them?
You see, if we haven’t proven ourselves trustworthy and
industrious in this world, how can we expect to inherit the next? If I’ve only prayed halfheartedly here,
should I expect to one day enter into the fullness of joy? If I don’t always make time for Mass,
can I reasonably expect happiness that never ends? If I don’t read the Bible, ought I hope for what it
promises? If I give my time to
sitting in front of the TV or surfing Internet but never to adoring the Blessed
Sacrament, can I rightfully anticipate to behold God face-to-face? If I don’t keep company with God’s holy
ones on earth, can I assume I’ll be comfortable dwelling with them in Paradise?
You and I were made by God, and you and I were made for God:
to enjoy life with him eternally. That’s
been God’s plan from the very beginning.
In God and with God is found our true meaning, our deep fulfillment, our
real happiness—now and forever. Hell
is being separated from all of this—to be separated from God: from the one for
whom our hearts long; from the destiny for which we were created. To close oneself off from God’s love
and mercy, to die in mortal sin without repentance, to fail to make any
investment or return—even a small one—on the priceless means of salvation with
which Christ has entrusted you, means being separated from the Lord
forever. That’s not the whim of
some strict, angry God. Hell is
our own choice. We damn ourselves.
It sounds kind of crazy, but the real possibility of hell is
actually a necessary element of God’s boundless love for us. Because he loves us, God has the
highest respect for us and for the free will that we’ve been given. If we weren’t truly free, we could not truly
love him in return. Which means we
can choose to love…or choose not to love.
And love, of course, isn’t just a matter of some nice words or vague
feelings; it’s a matter of action, it’s an entire way of life. Our human freedom would be a big sham if
the winning score were already fixed regardless of how we play the game. Do you think the Son of God would have
gone to all the trouble of becoming man and dying on a Cross if heaven were
simply automatic for everybody?
God will not force himself on us.
God does not want us to go to hell. And the Church fervently prays that
none of her children will be lost.
But the decision, my friends, belongs to each soul. We must choose, and follow through on
our choice.
So, how do we grow the Lord’s investment in us? How do we make a responsible return on the
immense spiritual wealth that we’ve been given? (1) For one thing, on a personal level, we need to remember
that faith, like the muscles of our bodies, needs to be exercised in order to
grow and get stronger—and it’s not enough to do so only on rare or special occasions. As with money: put your faith to work,
and it will work for you. (2) Secondly,
on a wider scale, we grow our faith by spreading it around. If we hope to see faith increase in the
world, then we must be willing to share it with others.
Like our reflections on Purgatory a couple of Sunday’s ago,
such talk might seem awfully old fashioned. I suspect it’s been quite awhile since you’ve heard a homily
on hell. In fact, it’d be easy to
think that modern, enlightened Catholics shouldn’t even talk about this stuff
any more! But just listen to what
the Bishops at Vatican II had to say on the subject, citing this Sunday’s
parable:
Since we know not the
day nor the hour, we should follow the advice of the Lord and watch constantly so
that, having finished the course of our earthly life, we may merit to enter
into the marriage feast with him and to be numbered among the blessed and not
be ordered to depart into the eternal fire like the wicked and slothful
servant, into the outer darkness where "there will be weeping and gnashing
of teeth" (Lumen Gentium,
48).
Now you might be thinking, “Father, I come here to Mass
hoping to go home with a good feeling.
Thoughts of hell don’t exactly leave me with a smile on my face.” My silly opening joke wasn’t enough to
do that! But my task as your
parish priest isn’t to get you to smile for an hour or two; it’s to make sure
you share in the happiness that never ends. These teachings may be sobering, I know, but the stakes are
that high. Hell isn’t there to
cause us to live in fear and trembling, but it does call us to get serious
about the heavenly treasures placed into our hands. Each one of us will be called upon to give a full
accounting. What return will you
make?
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