13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)
June 26, 2022
Fr. John C. Garrett
Jesus is traveling to Jerusalem for the last time. Along the way, he meets three men who have heard his call in their hearts. These encounters teach us several tough lessons about what it means to follow Jesus Christ. Today I would like to focus on just one of them. To follow Christ Jesus, we have to transfer our sense of security. We have to relocate it from ourselves to God.
We have to unlearn the lesson we have been taught our whole life long, to rely only on ourselves for success and happiness. We have to learn to rely wholly upon God, plugging all our efforts in life into his grace. This is what Jesus means when he says that "foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to rest his head."
Christ is trustworthy, but he is not predictable. When we follow him, we have to agree to go one step and one day at a time – he refuses to give us a full-life outline in advance. When we follow him, we have to stop pretending that we can keep our lives under control by our own efforts. By accepting Jesus’ friendship, we agree to follow him, to put our lives under his leadership.
Even foxes and birds have the security of their instincts and natural habitats, but Christians are on an unpredictable adventure. We simply don't know where God will lead us or what he may ask us to do. When we join Christ's army, we have to hand him a blank check.
The prophet Elisha gives us an eloquent example of this transferal of our security in the First Reading. When Elijah comes and calls him [Elisha] to become his successor as Israel's prophet, Elisha goes back home to tie up loose ends, and he really ties them up.
Elisha was a farmer. His whole livelihood, his whole way of life, was linked to his farm. This was how he made his way in the world. Up until the time of his calling, this was the source of his security.
When God makes his will known, however, Elisha doesn't hesitate to break completely with that former way of life. He doesn't just leave the farm behind. He actually slaughters his most important farm animals and burns his most precious tools – offering them all to the Lord as a sign that from now on he will depend on God for his livelihood and his happiness.
Not everyone is called to serve God in this way, by consecrating their lives completely to the Church. But all Christians are called to make a spiritual offering to God of our oxen and our plows, of those things, talents, or activities that we tend to depend on instead of God.
God can only fill our lives with the meaning and fruitfulness we long for if we put him first, trusting that he will lead us better than we can lead ourselves.
This transfer of security can be misinterpreted. Through the centuries, some Christians have mistakenly used it as an excuse to be irresponsible. "God will take care of me," they say, "so I don't have to do anything." This is not true.
Jesus calls us to put our hands to the plow, to do our part, to use our minds, talents, and opportunities intelligently and efficiently. But he always wants us to keep him first, to follow his example and the teachings of the Church, because only he can give our lives dependable stability and security.
Sometimes following the Ten Commandments is not the most convenient or comfortable alternative. In those moments, we have to trust that God knows what he is talking about.
Sometimes loving our neighbor as ourselves is a difficult, costly task. Those are the moments when we show that we are truly followers of Christ, not just superficial, hypocritical, cardboard-cut-out Christians.
Sometimes forgiving our enemies makes our hearts bleed. Those are the times when we can follow Christ most closely, and hang with him on the cross.
We don't know ahead of time what path God will choose for us – we are not foxes or birds. But we do know where that path will lead us: closer and closer to Christ Jesus, closer and closer to the fulfillment, the interior peace, and the lasting happiness that we all long for and that we can't achieve by ourselves.
Today, when Christ comes once again in Holy Communion to strengthen us for the journey, let's renew our promise to follow him, to anchor our hopes in him. Today, let's hand Jesus the blank check of the rest of our lives. After all, his bank account is more secure than ours.