Several times, I have mentioned Aslan in a homily. Some people were taken
aback that I should present such a ferocious image of God as this lion from the Tales of Narnia.
At the risk
of repeating myself, God is not a household pet. He cannot be caged or
domesticated. He is the God of glory and majesty and He loves us.
We
read in the Gospel of John: “For God so loved the world that He gave His
one and only Son, that everyone who believes in Him shall not perish
but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to
condemn the world, but to save the world through Him” (Jn. 3: 16-17).
It
takes strength of will and self-mastery to forgive. Only a God of power
and might can take our deformed nature and reshape it in the grandeur
He intended from the beginning of time.
It takes great love to recreate
us in His image and likeness without destroying us. It takes child-like
trust to place ourselves in the powerful hands of the Potter Who desires
to shape us into vessels capable of containing His Spirit.
The purpose
of the image is not to frighten us but to remind us that we are the
objects of God’s undying and ferocious love.
It is with this
ferocious lover that Abraham is haggling for the lives of the people in the condemned city of Sodom. Remember that. Knowing that we
are loved we can take to risk of making demands of the One who loves
us.
Abraham is imposing upon one who accepted his hospitality.
Abraham
is haggling with one who allowed him to wash his feet.
Abraham is
seeking clarity from one who accompanied him on his journey.
That is not
a bad context for heartfelt prayer.
The story of Abraham mirrors ours
in many ways. God comes into our lives, uninvited. He is willing to
accept whatever we are willing to offer in the way of hospitality. Then
He takes us with Him as moves on. The ferocious and infinite love of God
allows us to connect with members of the Blessed Trinity, for to grow is
love of all whom He loves and to pour ourselves out in serve of those He
sends our way.
Having grown up in an old ethnic neighborhood, I find it easier than some to imagine the passage of time. When I was growing up, someone was always running to a neighbor
to get a cup of sugar. There was always someone ready to offer a helping
hand when you were in need and you never imagined being sent away
empty-handed.
No doubt, this is what Jesus had in mind when he told the parable. “Imagine going to a friend at midnight because a surprise
visitor has come from out of town and your cupboard is bare. Hospitality
demands that the visitor has to be fed." Breaking bread with a guest is a
sign of sharing life. As Jesus is telling the story, you can almost
hear the pounding on the door and the grumbling from inside the house.
Yet Jesus keeps building the dramatic tension. This request goes beyond
self-respect; it goes to the heart honor and community identity. Anyone
who could was expected to help. Being refused in a time of need would be
unthinkable.
On one side of the door is pounding and loud cries
for help. On the other, growls of protest and threats of reprisal. The
parable seems to be a long drawn out question: Would you expect a friend
to refuse you in your time of need? Of course, the answer is NO! And so
the pounding and begging gets louder and louder, until the door opens.
As to a trusted friend, we turn to the Lion of Israel in our times of
need. Because He has a ferocious love for us, we can be confident
that God will give us whatever we need. Through the parable, Jesus is
encouraging us to express our trust in God’s ferocious love. Like the
neighbor in need, we should not get discouraged or give up. We need to
remember Jesus’ words: “Ask and you will receive, seek and you will
find, knock and the door will be opened to you” (Lk 11:9).
--Fr. Jerome Machar, OSCO
No comments:
Post a Comment