My parents sacrificed for my two brothers and I. They sent all of us to Catholic grammar school (Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in Jersey City, NJ) and Catholic high school (Marist High School in Bayonne, NJ). They could have easily sent us to public school to save money but they wanted us to have a good education and, I think, that meant that they also wanted us to have a good religious education. I say, I think, because they themselves did not really participate in the faith. My Father would take us to Mass and visit relatives on Easter and Christmas while my Mother cooked. He also made a deal with God that he would go to church if I got into veterinary school. I don’t recall him following through on that promise, though. But they did want more for us.
So I had the benefit of not only getting a good high school prep and college prep education from each school, I also received education on the faith. I know I had religion class as part of the grammar school curriculum, I know we went to confession and mass regularly during the week while at Mt. Carmel. I was an altar boy. I recall walking several blocks to church in the dark to assist at early morning mass. In high school we had religion class as separate classes just as we had chemistry, physics and biology. I was definitely not short changed when it came to religious training.
Where am I going with this? Well…I don’t remember ANY of it. I mean I know we studied the catechism (the Baltimore Catechism for those of you in the States who are in their 60s). We learned about saints. The sacraments. Bible readings, etc. But I draw a blank when it comes to remembering the details. And I considered myself a good student. Where did all that learning go?!
I can honestly say that I really had not begun learning my faith until after I made my Cursillo weekend 11 years ago. It was then that I began reading the bible, listening to reflections on the readings, listening to Relevant Radio, reading Catholic and Christian books, lectoring at church, etc. It was like a light switch turned on and my mind opened. Grace? The Holy Spirit? A softening of my heart? Don’t know. I was never one of those people who turned their backs on the Church. I continued to go Mass regularly. But things just began to make more sense and stuck with me better as I got older. There was more meaning.
“…to keep the commandment without stain or reproach
until the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Tim 6:14)
This is what Paul told Timothy, his disciple, in today’s first reading. In most of Paul’s letters he is speaking to congregations that he or his disciples had established. To encourage them in their faith. But the letters to Timothy (and to Titus) were different. Timothy and Titus were leaders of the new Church and Paul’s letters were meant to keep them moving in the right direction in the teaching of the flock. And in the verse quoted above he tells them to “keep the commandment”. When I read this I thought, “WHICH ONE?” After all, there are 10 of them. But Paul was not speaking about a specific commandment here. He was actually telling them to keep the “Commission“. To stay on the path that they began with their baptism into Christ. To not falter and stray from the influence of the world or false teachers.
In the Gospel we hear the familiar story of the sower of the seed onto various paths…the path with hungry birds (not the video game), rocky paths, thorn infested paths and good soil. I know when I read this parable I am often trying to figure out what kind of path I am. What kind of heart do I have. I think I typically conclude that I am the path covered with thorns. It is so easy to let life get in the way of daily devotion and education. And get off-course. That was certainly my story in college and veterinary school. Almost like I had more important things to do than to let my faith get in the way. Sure I went to church on Sunday, but little more. In spite of good early education, the world took precedence. Even as I write this reflection, I know that I have weeding to do in the yard, I have to prepare for a motorcycle tour next week, Elise needs help with dinner, etc. It is sooooo easy to get distracted from what is truly important.
So I leave you with the last word from the Gospel today:
Perseverance
Do what you can but stay on the path. There will be times when you can just make Mass. The kids and your family have to occupy a good bit of your time. They are the mission God has given you. But there will also be times when life’s obligations subside. When a window opens. When we are faced with a choice of how to occupy and use that time. At that point may our hearts more resemble the fertile, good soil and be open to opportunities to grow and mature. In this way God’s word can multiply for ourselves and for the community we serve.
The Jewish Holy Day of Yom Kippur begins tomorrow evening. The Day of Atonement. It is the day each year where we are supposed to take stock of our lives. Particularly over the last year. Where do we stand in the Kingdom of God. When we acknowledge our faults and deficiencies and pledge to do better. Listings of sins are recited (the Vidui) and forgiveness is asked for from friends, family and from God. Some Jews believe that at the end of Yom Kippur services the Book of Life is sealed. Meaning that it is determined what your fate will be in the coming year. Who will live and who will die based on the previous year’s deeds. As Christians we know that God’s mercy dominates and is freely given to those who repent and turn to him. The fertile path of our hearts that is receptive to the seed that is His word.
(The photo at the top is of God’s Thumb, which is a rock formation at the end of a hike in the Pacific Northwest. It makes me think of God’s GREEN thumb. We being the result of God’s own horticultural efforts.)
