For people who do a lot of entertaining at home, there’s
probably nothing more irksome than having everything ready and waiting
for dinner guests to arrive “unfashionably late.” It’s the same thing
when we’re going a movie or a party and finding ourselves waiting to be
picked up by a friend who hasn’t shown up at the appointed time. As the
minutes tick by and we keep checking our watch, frustration grows
because we know that we’re going to be late. Equally as irksome is to
arrive early for a scheduled appointment, like going to the doctor’s or
dentist’s office, only to have to sit and wait for fifteen minutes, half
an hour, or even an hour until that person is ready to meet with us.
As irksome as other peoples’ being tardy may make us, it’s
maddening when an dinner guest, a friend, or a person who we’ve
scheduled an appointment with doesn’t show up at all and doesn’t have
the common courtesy to call and let us know what’s going on and why that
individual won’t be meeting us. It’s an altogether entirely different
matter, however, when we try to invite people or to set up an
appointment, only to discover that no one wants to be a guest of ours or
that their calendar is allegedly so chocked full of things to do for the
entire upcoming year that they can’t schedule any time for us.
Today’s gospel suggests that our relationship with God may
very much be like those friends of ours who are tardy, who don’t have
the courtesy to tell us that they’re not going to be where they said
they’d be and when they said they’d be there, or who aren’t interested
at all in our invitation or scheduling an appointment with us. But,
instead of being the offended party, we may be the one’s who is doing
the offending by being tardy, not having the courtesy to tell God that
we’re going to be late, or that we’re not going to come at all.
Whether we’re aware of it or not, God is always inviting us
to participate in His divine life. Each and every day of our lives,
from the moment we wake up at day’s break until the moment we fall
asleep at day’s end, God’s issues invitations to participate in His
divine life, sometimes in small and seemingly insignificant ways and, at
other times, in rather big and mysterious ways. But, no matter what
particular way God uses, He is constantly taking the initiative to
invite us to experience the gift of His divine life. And, as today’s
gospel reminds us, people oftentimes will accord other, more trivial
matters greater importance. Like those people invited to the king's
wedding banquet, some may turn down God’s invitation outright, others
may make excuses, and some may come unprepared, only to find themselves
“cast out” which really means they don’t experience what God is offering
them.
Forty years ago, all of the Catholic bishops from around the
entire world convened in Rome at the invitation of Pope John XXIII. The
event was the Second Vatican Council and its agenda was to renew the
Church so that it would be able to confront the many challenges posed by
life in the modern world. Much had changed and much change was needed
if the Church was to proclaim the gospel effectively in this new era.
It took two years before the bishops issued their manifesto identifying
the shape the Church would take.
For most Catholics, the document on the liturgy had the most
immediate impact because the renewal of the liturgy changed so many
things and in very short order. It’s hard for anyone born before
1960 to believe, but anyone born after 1960 wouldn’t have a clue
what it was like to hear Mass said in Latin, to see the priest wearing
black vestments and facing the tabernacle rather than the people, to
know what the prayers at the foot of the altar were, to be able to
distinguish the “epistle side” of the altar from the “gospel side,” or
to listen to the last gospel. Those born after 1960 might think “et
cum spirit tu tuo” is the Pope’s telephone number not the proper
response to “Dominus vobiscum.” And forget “Ita missae est,”
to which everyone responded “Deo gratias.”
One of the goals of the liturgical reform instituted by the
Second Vatican Council was to make the Mass something of a more personal
and spiritual encounter with God and His people, a meeting place between
heaven and earth. The idea was to make the gathering of God’s people at
Sunday liturgy the highlight of the Catholic week. At Mass, Catholics
would encounter God in word and sacrament and partake of the spiritual
nourishment God would offer through the Eucharist. Then, the bishops
hoped, Catholics could go and “take on the week” by living the gospel
with increased zeal and witnessing to it in their daily lives whether at
home, in the workplace, in school, or in one’s activities. In this
sense, Sunday Mass would be God’s invitation for His people to come and
to partake of God’s divine life. It was to be like a wedding feast
where people come eager and joyful, enter personally into the
celebration, and experience profound personal and spiritual renewal
through it.
That was the ideal.
In several important ways, however, today’s gospel reminds us
after forty years of the renewed liturgy that we may be very far away
from experiencing this ideal, not because some Catholics may experience
the Mass as a boring and meaningless ritual disconnected from their
daily lives. No, the Mass is empty and devoid of personal meaning and
Catholics leave not having experienced spiritual renewal because they
may not look upon the Mass in the way the bishops invited Catholics to
look at it, namely, as God’s invitation to enter each week into His
divine life and to receive nourishment in word and sacrament so that
they will live each and every day as God’s holy people.
The way we envision the Mass and what it is intended to be in
the life of Catholics raise some very practical issues for us to
consider, sort of a little examination of conscience.
The first issue is the matter of turning down God’s
invitation. In today’s gospel, Jesus related the parable of the king
who gave a wedding feast for his son. Dispatching his servants to
gather the invited guests, many of those invited simply refused to
come. And, indeed, there are many Catholics—and
some pollsters indicate that it may be as high as seventy percent—who
see no need to come to Mass. They simply refuse God’s invitation
believing they don’t need to be nourished by word and sacrament in order
to participate fully in God’s divine life.
When the king recognized this attitude, he dispatched other
servants to invite the guests a second time. Some ignored the king’s
second invitation and went away to attend to other matters. And, yes,
there are Catholics who have all sorts of excuses about why they can’t
or don’t come to Mass. They hear God’s invitation, but there are other
professional, family, or sundry obligations to which they accord higher
priority. But, in the end, it’s all the same. They refuse God’s
invitation and can’t or don’t participate in Sunday Mass.
You may know some of these people. Have you ever invited
them to participate in Sunday Mass? Have you spoken to them about what
the Mass is, what it means to you and your life as well as its effect in
making it possible for you to witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ?
Have you evangelized the people, through your words and example, to
understand better what God is inviting them to participate in and what
God is offering them to nourish and strengthen them in holiness?
Perhaps you have. Perhaps, too, you have experienced ridicule and
rejection for your witness, just as some of the king’s servants did in
today’s gospel.
Well, that’s all very nice but, many of us may think, “I’m
here today so I’ve got nothing to worry about.” And this is the second
issue today’s gospel raises for each and every one of us as Catholics to
consider.
In today’s gospel, the king issues a third invitation, this
one being directed to anyone and everyone, sinners and saints alike.
These guests come to the wedding feast, filling the hall. Curiously,
one of those invited comes inappropriately dressed and the king has this
person bound hand and foot. The guest is then “cast into the darkness
outside to wail and grind his teeth.”
This sounds like a rather harsh if not brutal punishment,
especially considering that this fellow was invited to the wedding feast
almost as an afterthought or, at least, at the last minute.
But, this raises the question: How many of us respond to
God’s invitation at the last minute, almost as an afterthought, coming
to Mass ill-prepared to experience the gift of divine life that God
offers in word and sacrament? It’s not just a matter about how we come
attired to Sunday Mass—although
that is important and could be the subject of another homily—but
a matter of how well we have prepared ourselves so that we come to Mass
able to participate fully in what God is offering to us.
At a surface level, for example, do we come to Church early
enough so that we can prepare ourselves through prayer, reflecting upon
our words and actions during the preceding week, and perhaps after
having read and contemplated the scriptures that will be proclaimed
during Mass and, in the homily, that the priest will try to apply to our
lives as Catholics? Have we fasted from food and drink for one hour
before Mass so that we can focus upon the source of divine nourishment
that we will be receiving in the form of word and sacrament? And, while
I’m at it, how about our attire? Does what we wear to Mass bespeak the
dignity of the Almighty One we will encounter?
Looking at what actually transpires at Sunday Mass in many
parishes from the side of the congregation where I’ve stood for more
than twenty years, more than half of those who come to Mass arrive
late. Not once in a while, but habitually late. It’s as if the 10:30
mass is really scheduled for 10:45. “Have you ever thought about
leaving home earlier?”, I have asked some of these people over the
years. You should hear the excuses. I’ve even been told off for asking
people why they habitually come to Mass late. “At least I’ve come,”
some have responded, not realizing that the one who came to the wedding
banquet ill-prepared is the one who the king had bound and cast into the
darkness outside. I’ve not been murdered like the king’s servants in
the gospel but I’ve received my share of daggers in the back from people
who don’t appreciate being reminded that there is a time to come to
God’s banquet printed on the invitation.
And that doesn’t include those who leave Mass early. I’m
pretty sure there are plenty of good reasons to leave Mass early, but I
am absolutely sure that traffic congestion in the parking lot is not one
of those reasons. The final prayer, blessing, and sending forth is not
an “appendix” to the Mass, that is, something that human beings can live
without. No, these elements of the Mass—placed
as they are after partaking of the Word and Sacrament—bind
everything together to provide us as Catholics the impetus for us to “go
forth in peace to love and to serve the Lord” by giving witness to the
gospel. Leaving after communion is like departing the wedding banquet
before enjoying a piece of the wedding cake and offering the bride and
groom fondest wishes and a heartfelt farewell for their honeymoon.
And, I don’t want to leave the teenagers out of this.
I know that some of you are bored and absolutely
disinterested in what transpires at Mass. Sometimes, it’s almost
comical how you give me the very same look of disgust or roll your eyes
in exactly the same way you do when your parents don’t do what you want
them to do or say what you want them to say.
Listen to me: The Mass is boring and meaningless not because
it is boring and meaningless but because you do not see the connection
between what God is offering you here and what you experience in your
daily life. Your boredom and the lack of meaning you are selfishly
focusing upon is reflective of the tragic disconnect between you and God
except, perhaps, when you want some inspiration to pass a test at school
or some spiritual courage to ask for a date with a person you are really
interested in.
Perhaps you are here in Church only because you’ve been
dragged to be here (and, maybe have argued with your mom or dad all of
the way to Church). Or, maybe you are in Church because you feel
obliged to be here and fear the consequences of not coming to Church
and, as today’s gospel indicates, you know that there are consequences
for turning down God’s invitation to share in his divine life.
How the bishops at the Second Vatican Council wished that
you’d come enthusiastically to and participate actively in Sunday Mass
so that you could receive God’s divine life and, then, be capable of
giving effective witness to the gospel in your world…the very difficult
and sometime traumatic world of growing up and being a teenager.
Believe me, there are lots of teenagers out there who understand this
and do experience a more personal and spiritual encounter with God in
the liturgy of the Word and in the liturgy of the Eucharist. I can see
it in their faces, in their attentiveness, and in the way they
participate. Why don't you want to be one of them? Why all
of the excuses?
Please don’t take me in the wrong way. The point of these
examples is not to judge, not to harp, not to gripe, and certainly not
to complain. I know that much of this is “just how it is” and nothing I
can or will say is going to change it. The point I do want to make is
the point of today’s Gospel, namely, God invites each and every one
of us to participate in His divine life. As Catholics, Sunday Mass is
the place where we are nourished in it. God invites everyone, sinners
and saints alike, to come in from the streets and to share in His
feast. But, we are also reminded by the example of the man who came to
the wedding feast ill-prepared, that we need to prepare ourselves if
God’s word and sacrament are going to heal us, to strengthen us, and to
enable us to give witness to the gospel.
“Many are invited,” Jesus told the chief priests and the
elders of the people, “but few are chosen.” It is one thing to accept
God’s invitation but it is an altogether entirely different matter to
prepare ourselves to participate in the celebration of the Mass and,
ultimately, to partake of God’s divine life. When we fail to or don’t
prepare ourselves, Sunday Mass devolves into a boring and meaningless
ritual that is disconnected from the realities of our daily lives.
God has done His part and will continue to do His part. It’s
now up to us to respond to his invitation, to partake of his divine
life, and to witness to the gospel in word and in act. |