{"id":13735,"date":"2022-07-03T00:00:14","date_gmt":"2022-07-02T23:00:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/turski.blog\/?p=13735"},"modified":"2022-07-03T00:00:14","modified_gmt":"2022-07-02T23:00:14","slug":"14th-sunday-in-ordinary-time-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/?p=13735","title":{"rendered":"14th Sunday in Ordinary Time"},"content":{"rendered":"

It was a meteoric rise, from zero to hero – or to 362 subscribers (to be precise) in a few weeks. That number could be legitimately multiplied by 2 or 3 as a big chunk of the audience likely consisted of families rather than individuals. As a little-known local priest in a relatively insignificant city parish, who had regularly lulled his congregation to sleep, I quickly found myself watched and – presumably – listened to by people from various places across Scotland, the United Kingdom and even far-flung ones like Syria, the US or Canada. If such outreach were the sole criteria, I had a very good pandemic indeed. Seemingly the prophetic words of the late American artist Andy Warhol, \u201cin the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes\u201d<\/em> were fulfilled for me. Although I accepted the necessity of online Masses and services as a way of dealing with the challenges of the time, the relative \u2018popularity\u2019 that came with it wasn\u2019t something I wanted, desired or sought. I found it increasingly difficult to preach to the lifeless camera lens. Perhaps I\u2019m not made for life in virtual reality. Or perhaps it\u2019s something else; something that most of us have in common: the need for human, social interaction.<\/p>\n

But here lies a challenge. Some people are much more popular than others and consequently, there\u2019s a greater demand for their attention, while their availability is limited by time, space and commitments. I have a similar experience on my tiny microscale, though such a demand is mainly attracted by my position, much less by my personal qualities. Despite my good intentions and goodwill, I cannot be everywhere and do everything that\u2019s requested and expected of me. Even Jesus in his public ministry struggled with that. We find one way of dealing with such a challenge in today\u2019s gospel reading: \u201cThe Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them out ahead of him, in pairs, to all the towns and places he himself was to visit.\u201d<\/em> They were more than just Jesus\u2019 spokespersons; they were effectively despatched with the authority to carry out His mission: \u201cCure those […] who are sick, and say, \u201cThe kingdom of God is very near to you.\u201d<\/em> Judging by the conclusion of today\u2019s gospel, their ministry was highly successful: \u201cThey […] came back rejoicing. \u2018Lord,\u2019 they said, \u2018even the devils submit to us when we use your name.\u2019\u201d<\/em> People in those places visited by the seventy-two were primed for meeting Jesus in scaled-up, mass public meetings. When we read in the gospels about crowds gathering around Jesus and following Him we can safely assume that credit for such popularity must in large part go to His assistants.<\/p>\n

Our modern times see a significant and increasing decline in church attendance and religious faith. Even the so-called Catholic countries or nations are historically so, rather than by virtue of their universal practice of the faith. There\u2019s a wide range of reasons and causes for such a decline and they go wildly beyond the scope of this sermon. One of them is widespread misunderstanding of the Christian faith. Ask anyone on the street about the Catholic faith and you will find out what stereotypes most people hold and how off the mark many of them are. It\u2019s easy to find out what Catholics are against but very hard to know what we are for. We ourselves can struggle to answer such a question. Contrary to common belief, it isn\u2019t all about expanding and polishing our halos. Jesus defined the main reason for being His followers in these simple words: \u201cyou will receive […] the Holy Spirit […] and you will be my witnesses […] to the ends of the earth.\u201d (Acts 1:8)<\/em> Conveniently, this mission was gradually left to \u2018professionals\u2019: bishops, priests and religious. But there are unintended consequences to this seemingly perfect model: a general inactivity of the laity, practically reduced to consumers of spiritual goods and polishing of their halos through a great variety of pieties and devotions. The dramatic drop in priestly and religious vocations has unveiled massive gaps in the clerical model. Priests spread too thinly are unable to reach out to many for a variety of reasons: limited time or space, or their own limited human capabilities, or perception based on scandalous or downright criminal activities of fellow priests. There are places and people that no priest can reach. That\u2019s where you – members of this congregation – are sent out.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Lord appointed seventy-two others.\u201d<\/em> Other than who? Other than the Apostles, a group of Jesus\u2019 closest disciples, trained for their professional roles of leadership. \u201cThe Lord appointed seventy-two others\u201d<\/em> in this congregation; you were amongst them from the moment you received the Sacrament of Confirmation. You are being \u201csent out ahead of Jesus […] to all the towns and places he himself is to visit.\u201d<\/em> Your mission is to be a witness, to give testimony to the transforming and uplifting power of Jesus. The task set by Him in today\u2019s gospel can be summarised in the words of this well-known prayer:<\/p>\n

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is hatred, let me bring love.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is offence, let me bring pardon.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is discord, let me bring union.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is error, let me bring truth.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is despair, let me bring hope.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.<\/em><\/p>\n

Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.<\/em><\/p>\n

O Master, let me not seek as much<\/em><\/p>\n

to be consoled as to console,<\/em><\/p>\n

to be understood as to understand,<\/em><\/p>\n

to be loved as to love,<\/em><\/p>\n

for it is in giving that one receives,<\/em><\/p>\n

it is in self-forgetting that one finds,<\/em><\/p>\n

it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,<\/em><\/p>\n

it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\n

Image by Pablo Valerio<\/a> from Pixabay<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It was a meteoric rise, from zero to hero – or to 362 subscribers (to be precise) in a few weeks. That number could be legitimately multiplied by 2 or 3 as a big chunk of the audience likely consisted of families rather than individuals. As a little-known local priest in a relatively insignificant city parish, who had regularly lulled his congregation to sleep, I quickly found myself watched and – presumably – listened to by people from various places across Scotland, the United Kingdom and even far-flung ones like Syria, the US or Canada. If such outreach were the sole criteria, I had a very good pandemic indeed. Seemingly the prophetic words of the late American artist Andy Warhol, \u201cin the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes\u201d were fulfilled for me. Although I accepted the necessity of online Masses and services as a way of dealing with the challenges of the time, the relative \u2018popularity\u2019 that came with it wasn\u2019t something I wanted, desired or sought. I found it increasingly difficult to preach to the lifeless camera lens. Perhaps I\u2019m not made for life in virtual reality. Or perhaps it\u2019s something else; something that most of us have in common: the need for human, social interaction.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13735","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sermon","category-year-c"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13735","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13735"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13735\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13735"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13735"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tad.scot\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13735"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}