Homily for 28th Sunday

Homily for 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Dom David Tomlins

“Jesus was setting out on a journey when a man ran up, knelt before him and put this question to him, ‘Good Master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’” (Mk.10:17-30).

Who was this man who questioned Jesus this morning? We don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. The question of identity today is: Who is this person? The relevant answer, without any fantasy or playing of games, is: Each one of us. You, me. Jesus sets out on a journey each day, continues his journey, inviting us, through time. Each of us in our turn is called to come to him with that sense of urgency suggested by Mark’s verb, “ran up”, and ask that burningly important question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” When the chips are down, is there any more crucial question we must ask, any more crucial answer we must seek? “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus answered the enquirer in two parts, two stages. First he emphasised the basics: “You know the commandments”. God made a covenant with his People, and the embracing of the commandments was the People’s response, their commitment to the loving relationship they were being offered. The man replied to Jesus: “Master, I have kept all these since my earliest days”. This was obviously a genuine response. Mark tells us: “Jesus looked steadily at him and loved him”.

Jesus then moved to another stage, another level with this man. “There is one thing you lack”. He is becoming more specific. “Jesus looked steadily at him”. He reads his heart and discerns a “lack”. As this morning’s excerpt from the letter to the Hebrews (4:12-13) says of the “word of God…  it can judge the secret emotions and thoughts. No created thing can hide from him; everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one to whom we must give an account of ourselves”. For this man the obstacle lies in the fact that “he was a man of great wealth”. Jesus offered him “treasure in heaven”, surely the “eternal life” he was asking about, but he was snared by the tangibility of his earthly riches. Jesus was right: there was one thing he lacked. He couldn’t let go and follow.

Every single Christian disciple through the ages has had to grapple with the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The answer begins with the general and indispensable, “you know the commandments”, but moves to the specifics in each individual’s life which must be addressed if the “come, follow me” is to be possible.

Today Pope Benedict will be canonising five people in Rome. They are being placed before the universal Church as examples of disciples who asked the same question as we do about what is necessary to inherit eternal life, and who responded concretely to what was asked of them in their time and place and situation. I have had the privilege of praying at the graves of two of the men.
                                    
The first is Damian of Molokai. You may have seen the film of his life. He was a Belgian who became a missionary priest in the nineteenth century and eventually went to live on the Island of Molokai in the Hawaiian group with a colony of lepers. In those days there was no treatment and no hope of cure. The inhabitants had been abandoned on Molokai with no care and no possibility of release except through death. Damian threw in his lot with them, their fate becoming his fate. I can’t begin to imagine the renunciations that were asked of him in return for inheriting eternal life. Jesus had certainly looked steadily on Damian and loved him and Damian responded, finding Jesus in these most wretched of his brethren who were literally rotting out of sight of the rest of the world. He has long found “treasure in heaven”. Today we will call him Saint Damian of Molokai.

The second is Rafael Arnaiz Baron, a Spaniard of the first half of the twentieth century. What was his story? Briefly, after studying architecture, he entered our Cistercian monastery of San Isidro four times in four years and died. Twice he was forced to leave the monastery because of horrendous attacks of a virulent form of diabetes, in a coma on at least the first occasion. He was called to military service during the Civil War but then rejected on account of his health. This was what, concretely, was asked of Rafael in his journey of following Christ. There is nothing spectacular that can be recounted. Deep in his heart he heard the universal call to “eternal life”. God and God’s Will was his focus. I think he was often puzzled by what God was doing with him. But he kept on trying to respond simply to the specifics of letting go daily and following the bit of light he had for that day’s journey. By the age of twenty-seven he had followed to the end and received the treasure of “eternal life”. Today we will call him Saint Rafael Arnaiz.

Probably none of us are headed for canonisation. However, Jesus most certainly has looked steadily at us and loved each one of us. He has placed in our hearts that desire for “eternal life”. It is his dearest wish to confer on us “treasure in heaven”. I guess we would not be present here this morning if we did not “know the commandments” and live by them. But we have an imperative need to ask Jesus “what is the one thing I lack?” in order to follow you in my uniqueness, especially “what is it I must let go of in order to find the freedom to follow you wherever your Will wants to lead me?” A vague desire and general goodwill is not enough. We need to have “the word of God which is alive and active… that can judge the secret emotions and thoughts” put a finger on “the one thing we lack”. Then we need to pray for the generosity to (so to speak) “sell everything” and follow him. We are all on the one journey, Jesus’ journey, to “eternal life”. But what the journey will ask of each of us will be specific to us. Damian of Molokai was not Rafael Arnaiz, nor Rafael, Damian. Their discipleship entailed renunciations, but different renunciations. What was common was faith-filled generosity, a genuine desire to know and do God’s Will. That is what is asked of you and of me. Rafael’s mantra was “God alone”. In a sense, that is what leaving all, following you, treasure in heaven, eternal life comes down to. “God alone”.