The Narrow Way
Today’s first two readings have a wide, inclusive perspective. First, in Isaiah, the Lord says:
"I come to gather nations of every language…[from] Tarshish, Put and Lud, Mosoch, Tubal and Javan, to the distant coastlands… they shall proclaim my glory among the nations. They shall bring all your brothers and sisters from all the nations as an offering to the LORD, on horses and in chariots, in carts, upon mules and dromedaries, to Jerusalem, my holy mountain, says the LORD, just as the Israelites bring their offering."
From all these far off exotic lands, from the ends of the earth – brothers and sisters alike, some in chariots like royalty, others on mules like peasants – everyone is invited to Jerusalem, to God’s holy mountain.
Then today’s second reading, the Psalm, echoes the point: “Go out to all the world and tell the Good News…. Praise the LORD, all you nations; glorify him, all you peoples!”
The whole world. All nations. Both Old Testament readings emphasizing how, working through Israel, ultimately God calls everyone to his covenant. Every human being is created in the image and likeness of God, created for communion with God. No exceptions.
Yet today’s third and fourth readings change the emphasis. Five times, today’s short excerpt from Hebrews mentions discipline – accepting the Lord’s discipline, remembering what we learned as children about how discipline seems painful at the time, but in time, produces a harvest of joy and peace.
(As an aside, Bobby McFerrin has a duet, sung with his father, based on this reading. It's so joyful - and therefore helpful for receiving spiritual discipline as a gift. McFerrin's father was an opera singer; when you get to the parts of the song where his deep, paternal, baritone sings about the fruits of discipline, it makes me eager: yes please, sign me up for that!)
Then in the Gospel, Jesus emphasizes the narrow way. Jesus says that many will knock at the Lord’s door, but don’t take it for granted that you’ll get in; from Jesus’s own lips, we learn that in the end, there will be some whom he does not recognize, who will wail and gnash their teeth outside.
In other words, today we have two readings about a “wide way” followed by two readings about a “narrow way.” On the one hand, an invitation and a vision that includes everyone, but, on the other hand, a warning: entry into God’s kingdom asks for some discipline from us.
Integrating these four readings, the good news is that everyone can know God, that a relationship with our creator is possible for anyone. Intimacy with God - holiness - is a real and legitimate hope for everyone anywhere anytime.
The challenge is that to pursue and cultivate this relationship, it takes intention. The door is narrow, not because God is stingy and selective, but because we’re sinners, and opening ourselves to God’s grace won’t happen if we’re spiritually asleep, in denial, or on the wrong path.
To allow God to mold us and configure our hearts, we have to turn in his direction. God isn’t going to force himself on us. We’ve got to invite him in; we've got to be awake, alive, hungry for him. And we invite God by the way we worship, pray, and live. Another word for these steps, these practicalities - how to worship, how pray, how to live in a way that keeps us open to God - another word for all that is “discipline.”
So today’s four readings fit together: the wide invitation and universal hope sits alongside the need to make a disciplined, deliberate response. Here’s two quick stories to illustrate at least how I personally experience the dynamic.
Alice Cooper was a heavy metal rock star in the 1970’s. I don’t recommend looking up his performances from those days – they were dark and gruesome. But if you, like me, were young then, you might remember him. Anyway, the story is that he was a rock star, that he lived wild, lots of parties and women. In time he became addicted to drink and drugs.
The twist is that later in life, he returned to the Christian faith of his childhood. Just two or three years ago, as an old man looking back, he said in an interviewthat, “Drinking beer is easy. Trashing your hotel room is easy. But being a Christian, that's a tough call. That's the real rebellion."
What a great quote. We all know that drifting along with the culture and the crowd is easy. We all know the idolatry of glamor and the limelight, or the different styles of hedonism – anyone with a pulse knows that stuff is sometimes tempting.
But: to stop seeking those things, or to set your sights higher than just metaphorically drinking beer as the years tick by – that is the narrow way. Our faith is a daily invitation open to anyone…but repenting takes courage. In ways large and small, hopping off auto-pilot and the path of least resistance, and embracing the faith instead - that takes gumption. As Alice Cooper or any recovering addict can tell you, re-ordering our hearts takes intention. It’s the real rebellion, against spiritual sloth.
Here’s my second example. David Foster Wallace was an American novelist who died – tragically and far too young – about fifteen years ago. He’s most famous for his novel Infinite Jest, and also for a legendary graduation speech he gave to Kenyon College.
Anyway, Wallace also struggled with addiction and depression. He twice came close to converting to Catholicism, and I think for a long time he also joined a Mennonite church. He was a complicated man who tried to observe life carefully and honestly.
In that legendary college graduation speech, one thing he argued was [and to keep the explanation brief, I’m going to paraphrase and re-order the quote a little] –
"In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing [God]…is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things — if they are where you tap real meaning in life — then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. Worship power — you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart — you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on….. On one level, we all know this stuff already — it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness."
The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. There are so many distractions in life, temptations to assert ourselves, temptations to false identities. But those traps don’t have to be the last word. We can lose the chains. We can keep the truth up-front in daily life.
The little disciplines that the Church invites us to consider – fasting and acts of self-denial, the works of mercy, the rhythm of daily prayer, monthly confession, weekly Eucharist, tithing, spiritual reading, even the difficult and challenging moral teachings – all these are the practical disciplines that keep our hearts centered, that keep the truth up-front.
If we receive them the right spirit, the spiritual disciplines are a gift, producing a harvest of peace. In the end, we can’t and don’t save our selves – only God’s gift and grace can do that. But each one of the Church’s disciplines is an opportunity to rebel against sin, to keep the truth up-front, to surrender our hearts, and become people in whom God’s grace is flowing.
