Each week, I mail my Sunday reflections to several people who don’t have access to them via my parish bulletin or online. I include a little note with my greetings and a bit of current news. When I did so last week, I shared with one friend that I intentionally didn’t acknowledge the anniversary of September 11. That date marks an extremely painful time for us. Much to my dismay, many equivalent evils beset our world these days. I simply didn’t know where to begin. However, as soon as I sent off that note, I felt compelled to make an attempt. I had read Luke’s gospel and found myself troubled by Jesus’ words as well. Jesus seemed to hold up a man who was no more than a petty thief. Why highlight his crafty evildoing? I had to attempt to understand…
As Luke (Luke 16:1-13) tells it, Jesus offered a parable regarding a steward who cheated his master. When the master discovered this, he called in the man for an accounting after which he planned to fire him. The dishonest steward understood his predicament. Because he refused to dig ditches or beg, the steward took action. To insure his future, he went to his master’s debtors. He directed one to cut his debt by twenty percent and another to cut his debt by half. The steward’s newfound allies would see to his comfort when this ugly incident eventually led to his unemployment. During the final accounting, the master marveled at the efforts of the steward. The master wasn’t surprised that the man had found a way to save himself. In this parable, Jesus focused upon the creativity of the dishonest man. As I wondered what lesson could be found here, I wondered again. Was Jesus suggesting that the rest of us should be equally creative when it comes to doing good?
Last Sunday’s anniversary of 9-11 gives me much to consider in this regard. Most of us have vivid recollections of our whereabouts when we heard the news. The worst of my memories include the school half-full of military children where I worked. I cannot forget my fear as I considered that the nearby naval installation might be a subsequent target. How would we tell our students that their parents had perished? How would we help them all? At the same time, I recalled what happened here at Saint Paul’s the following weekend. I watched carefully as we gathered to pray. Our interactions with one another were somehow different. Was it my imagination or were young parents holding their babies a bit closer? Was it my imagination or were more children perched upon a parent’s knee than sat fidgeting at their sides? Was it my imagination or did couples hold hands long before and long after we recited the Lord’s Prayer? Was it my imagination or did those to whom I offered the Eucharist have an intense longing in their eyes, a longing I felt deeply with them?
In its most creative state, my imagination is incapable of conjuring images as wholesome and Godlike as those which unfolded before me in this church that weekend and for many weeks afterward. Indeed, our entire country responded as one people united to love our wounds away. Nothing nourishes the human spirit more than love graciously offered and love graciously received. The only antidote to haunting deeds of evil at its worst is love. If we are to conquer the horror which unfolded fifteen years ago and the evil which threatens today, we must mobilize without delay. I’ve often heard, “Pray as though everything depends upon God and work as though everything depends upon you.” Today, an alternative seems appropriate: Pray as though everything depends upon God, and love as though everything depends upon you because, indeed, it does.
Those who plotted the 9/11 attack and the many who have followed in their footsteps acted with unwavering conviction. Their commitment, though twisted and perverted, was unquestionable. Like the devious steward in today’s gospel, they did precisely what was necessary to achieve their goals. Our challenge is to counter evil in this world with equally passionate resolve. Like the determined forces who propagate hatred, we must be determined forces who extend love to all of God’s people. We must mobilize as individuals, families, neighborhoods, parishes, towns, a country and a world. We must teach our children and re-teach ourselves to love as completely as evildoers hate. Like the steward’s master, Jesus challenges us to take an accounting of the things we have been up to as of late. More importantly, Jesus asks that we are passionate and creative –like that steward– not in the ways of evil, but in the ways we find to love one another. Though my 9/11 reflection may be a week late, it’s never too late to commit ourselves to love.
©2016 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved
