Ears Open for Obedience

In today’s first reading, Isaiah says he’s been formed from the womb to be the Lord’s servant. In today’s Psalm, there is an arresting phrase about having "ears open for obedience." In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist repeats several times that Jesus outranks him.
 
For most modern Americans, themes of service, obedience, and hierarchy are awkward. I’m sure there are many, many reasons why. Pride and disobedience were the primal sin for Adam and Eve, and we share their human nature.
 
But I also think there might be some uniquely contemporary reasons for finding obedience and submission especially difficult.
 
For at least two generations in this country, our trust in our institutions has been declining. I was born in 1969, and two of my earliest memories are the adults around me discussing Watergate and the end of the Vietnam war.
 
Since then, reasons for cynicism have continued to accumulate. I think it was around this time of year when, in 2002, the Boston Globe first reported on abuse in the Church. Remember in 2003, when the government told us that the Iraqis would welcome us with open arms? And while we know which banks were bailed out in 2008, was anyone ever held accountable for that financial crisis?

On and on it goes. Invite me for a cup of coffee, and I’ll give you the rest of my list, updated to include the last couple of years.
 
But without getting distracted by the details, my point is that, for a long time, Americans have had accumulating reasons to be wary of authority and institutions.
 
Over these decades, as these problems have been developing, one of the eminent scholars of American religious life has been a sociologist named Robert Bellah. Professor Bellah’s research noticed two trends developing at the same time – as trust in institutions was declining, individualism in spirituality was rising.
 
One of Bellah’s most famous interviews was with an ordinary woman, a young nurse, named Sheila Larson. Sheila Larson was a pseudonym for a real person, who became a symbol for the way millions of Americans have learned to think about religion during these years. She told Bellah: “I believe in God. I’m not a religious fanatic. I can’t remember the last time I went to church. My faith has carried me a long way. [My faith is called] Sheila-ism. Just my own little voice…It’s just try to love yourself and be gentle with yourself.”
 
I think on one level, we can all understand Sheila, and maybe there’s a little bit of Sheila-ism in all of us. When too many things are broken, when you can’t fully trust authorities and institutions, it’s natural to be on our guard, and retreat into our selves. If we’re honest about what’s happening in our society, we understand some of the reasons why Sheila speaks for many.
 
But here’s the thing: whatever disappointments may be happening in the world, whatever hypocrisies or sins our leaders may be committing, we can’t let that become a cover story or an excuse for becoming self-centered. We need to be continually opening our hearts to something bigger and grander than our selves.
 
It says in today’s Psalm “here am I, Lord, I come to do your will.” The Psalmist is full of joy, for the Lord has given him “ears open to obedience.” But as we watch the Psalmist surrender to God, while we envy that joy, we also feel a tension – Sheila, like most of us, is not predisposed to obey. We're afraid of obedience. Our ears aren’t open for it. We’re individualists with a long list of excuses for doing it our own way.
 
The risk is, that if we don’t develop ears for the right kind of obedience, then we’re closing ourselves to God’s grace. We have to navigate a two-fold reality: on the one hand, our society incentivizes us to skepticism, rebellion, and declaring our own independence. But on the other hand, if we’re going to dwell in God and know him as a living reality, then, at a certain point, we’re going to have to follow God’s will, not our own.
 
In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist is constantly deferring to Jesus. “A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me,” he says. Once I did not know him, “but the reason why I came baptizing with water was that he might be made known.” Now “I have seen…he is the Son of God.” And while we didn’t read it this morning, a few verses earlier, John had said about Jesus “I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” Two chapters later, John will repeat, “he must increase, but I must decrease.”
 
This is what John the Baptist is inviting us to do – let Jesus increase, but decrease our own ego. This is hard work.
 
A couple of weeks ago, I was standing in a parking lot, talking with a friend who is a diocesan priest. He was telling me that his bishop was transferring him to a new ministry. My friend did not want the transfer. He was happy and doing well in his existing job. He looked me in the eye and said, “people think that the hard part of priesthood is the celibacy; it’s not; it’s the obedience.”
 
This man is one of the most beautiful, radiant priests I know – and even he struggles with obedience. We all do.
 
But I think one of the reasons my friend is so beautiful and radiant is that he is humble, and he does obey. He is regular not only at Sunday Mass, but also in prayer, confession, spiritual reading, and the works of mercy. That is a winning combination. Christ is alive for him. I watch my friend, and I see grace flowing in him. His outward circumstances are far from his own choosing, but on the inside, he is fully alive.
 
These last few weeks, I’ve been re-reading some of Pope Benedict’s most famous speeches and homilies. In 2005, in his first homily as Pope, Benedict said:
 
"Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? … No! If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life."
 
As a young man, Benedict was a theological adviser at the Second Vatican Council. Gaudium et Spes (Joy and Hope) is one of the great Vatican II documents, and it taught that only in the mystery of Jesus can the mystery of man come fully to light. To become who we are meant to become, we cannot retreat into ourselves, but must move forward into him.
 
So, despite the many temptations to Sheila-ism, despite whatever is happening in our world, the way of Jesus never grows old. No matter how dysfunctional our institutions, no matter how hypocritical our leaders might become, we must not be afraid to get to know Jesus and obey him. It is the only way to be fully alive.
 
This week is a good week to make take some small steps towards following Jesus and resisting decay in our culture. Tomorrow is Martin Luther King day. Would Dr. King want us to give up? I don’t think so. Tomorrow, our parish has a service project in his memory. We’re going to pick up trash in Tacony Creek Park. Tacony Creek is a park like our own Wissahickon, but in a very different neighborhood, with many challenges. Are we going to make that park spotless? Are we going to fix it, once and for all, for all time? Is litter in a park the most pressing problem in the world? No, no, and no. But with each individual piece of trash we pick up, we’re going to make it a little bit better. With each piece of trash that we pick up, we’re going to make ourselves a good neighbor to another part of the city. It’s like fasting during Lent - with each piece of trash that we pick up, we’re chipping away at our self-centeredness, and living for others.

Later this week, Friday will be the annual March for Life in Washington DC. I’ll be there with Martin Saints, and I know a bus to the march that still has room. Did we all catch the reference in today's first reading, about the prophet Isaiah being formed in the womb for his vocation? The humanity of any child in the womb is fundamental to our faith. The MLK holiday, and the March for Life, have a common denominator, because both flow from our faith that God creates everyone in his image. Each step on Friday's march, and as Dr. King would emphatically agree, we’re testifying that God loves everyone, even when society questions their humanity.
 
So, if you’re interested in either tomorrow’s MLK day of service, or Friday’s March, see me at the door after Mass. I’ll connect you with the people who can help you get to either event.
 
Right now, as we approach this Eucharist, let’s pray for Shiela Larson. Really, that’s a way of saying let’s pray for ourselves. Let's pray for the grace to overcome our pride; let's pray for the grace to surrender to Jesus. As we receive this Eucharist, let’s pray for "ears open to obedience." Jesus is calling us, and it’s time to listen, to welcome him inside, and rise to our full stature. Amen.