Rekindling The Flickering Flame

Matthew 23: 1-12
 
Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, ‘The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practise what they teach. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. They love to have the place of honour at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have people call them rabbi. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father - the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.
 
Many years ago, I attended a conference in Banff also attended by all the Liturgical experts of the Canadian Catholic Church. At that time the phrase “good liturgy” was being tossed around by anyone who had anything to do with liturgy and I began to notice that although everyone seemed to agree that good liturgy was important, no one really had a clear definition of what good liturgy was. My thinking was that we should be able to explain liturgy simply and easily – otherwise something beautiful had become much too complex. So, I decided I was going to approach each one of these well-known leaders and ask them if they could describe in 25 words or less what good liturgy was.

It turned out that this was not an easy task because none of them seemed too keen on hobnobbing with the common folk. At the breaks they would huddle together in earnest discussion. I just stood there at the edge of their groups until they noticed me and then I asked my question. They would kind of look at me and then look at each other in discomfort. One fellow finally said, “Well...uh...it's all in the books. Read our books.” After I asked my question a few times I noticed this nondescript little man watching me. He was quiet and was present each time I approached a group. Finally he came up to me and said, “I overheard you asking those guys about good liturgy. It's a good question. Let me introduce myself...” His name was Frank Henderson and most people who had anything to do with liturgy at that time or in some years to come would probably have heard his name. He was the editor of and a major contributor to The National Bulletin on Liturgy, a publication most churches subscribed to and one that all the Liturgy experts would have contributed to regularly. Frank adopted me for the weekend and sat with me at every liturgical celebration as we discussed liturgy, what it was, what it's purpose was and where the challenges were. We continued our discussion by correspondence after the weekend was over. Frank was not just the editor of that publication; he was also an oncologist with a busy practice. And he was a humble man.

Around that time I learned a heck of a lot about liturgy. I probably remember some of it, too. However, what had the most impact on me was this man who didn't consider himself too important or too busy to make himself available to someone with an interest in learning. Liturgical knowledge wasn't Frank's biggest gift to me. He gave me face and affirmed my worth. It was a gracious gift from a kind man who had no need to advertise his status to define his own value.

Status. Jesus was castigating the scribes and Pharisees for their desire for status. He wasn't so much saying that titles like 'rabbi', 'teacher' or 'father' were bad in themselves; he was saying that seeking these titles for the status they conferred was terribly wrong. Status seeking is born of egotistical self-love and the consequences are often heavy. Usually the ones who suffer these consequences are those who have no status at all, for as Jesus said, one of the habits of status seekers is to “tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others.” It's as if having denied themselves the humble and simple joy of being a small one in the Kingdom, they found it difficult to allow others the same joy. C.S. Lewis said, "In the midst of a world of light and love, of song and feast and dance, Lucifer could find nothing to think of more interesting than his own prestige."

Status. It's a subtle temptation and sometimes it pulls us in ever so deceptively. What can start out with a good motivation to do something worthwhile for others can end up as a personal exercise in just maintaining the position. Status feels good. It feels excellent when others depend on us, admire us and respect our skills. It's satisfying...for a while. And then it's not. Then we need to find something else to give us status.  Admiration and approval is addictive. Power is habit-forming. "Badness is only spoiled goodness."  said Lewis. We all need to constantly be on guard against the subtle lure of status.

What Jesus said in this week's Gospel would have shocked all the people who were listening, not just the scribes and Pharisees. To all of them, 'long tassels and broad phylacteries' were signs of God's blessing and approval. Jesus was confronting hundreds of years of an ingrained spiritual culture as he tried to convey the truth that the values of God's Kingdom were completely different from the ones they had grown up believing in. And you know what? He still hasn't totally succeeded in convincing us, his people, that the Kingdom does not thrive on the same values and principles as those of the world. I almost didn't approach those groups of liturgical experts because I felt they were in a higher echelon and were too prestigious to have someone like me bother them. I was applying worldly standards to judge who was important and who wasn't. The sad thing was that they seemed to agree with me.

God bases his whole Kingdom value system on love. That means that unless love is the foundation, we are building on sand. God does not call us or the church to be effective like a corporation has to be effective. Really. In terms of worldly standards, love is the most inefficient way of doing anything. It's not logical, it's not quantifiable, it doesn't make money and it can feel like a waste of time. If you advertise it, it loses its power. You can't wear it to make yourself part of an identifiable group. You can't legislate it or charge for it. You can't put it in a box and label it or copyright it. It's often not a winning proposition. You can't analyze its trends or make an app for it. You can't download it and so far, it hasn't gone viral. Pity.

The standard of love means that the heart of the person right in front of you is more important than the mission statement. It means that accepting a brother or sister unconditionally has more value than making sure people see you stringently applying the law – or see you doing anything that gives you status. It means being totally fine if someone else gets the respect and recognition for something you did. We talk about how love is so important but we've lost the urgency and the understanding of why Jesus castigated the scribes and Pharisees the way he did. They had traded knowledge of love for ostentatious almsgiving, long blue tassels and showy prayer habits. While they inscribed the greatest commandment on a piece of parchment and bound it conspicuously to their heads and arms, they had lost the inscription on their hearts. Their hearts had turned to stone and their spirituality had turned into form and show.

If we all wake up and actively turn back to love, if we recognize love as a real power and embrace it as more than an ideal, if we let go of our pride, our personal goals and opinions, if we try to root out all that is within us that strives for recognition, approval and status, if we realize that love is, as Jesus said, what it all hangs on and if we start practicing the law of love with one person at a time, we will be astounded at the life and growth that will flourish around us.

Teilhard de Chardin said it wonderfully:

“Someday, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love. Then, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.”

In the Kingdom of God, playing with fire is not only allowed, it's mandatory.