So
Yahweh-God tells the young man Ezekiel when calling him to be a prophet
to the Chosen People: “They are a rebellious house.’
The day I entered the monastery, 4 July 1982, this text was read during the Sunday liturgy. I already sensed the truth of the words, and in time I saw how they fit my monastic community: “They are a rebellious house.”
And I have long seen in the churches in this country: “They are a rebellious house.” And the Catholic Church: “Also a rebellious house.”
Why is it that one hears so few homilies or sermons that tell us that we are rebellious, that we have indeed hardened our hearts and minds to the living God? Why are so many homilies in the Catholic Church so generic, so full of “God loves you” and “God forgives you,” and so short on the stark truth: “This is a stiff-necked people, who have turned their hearts and minds from God?”
Why do my homilies often lack the sharpness and spirit-filled power that they ought to have, if indeed I can be an instrument of God’s truth to this rebellious house?
We clergy often avoid being prophetic, direct, challenging for several reasons, I think: First, many of us do not know the truth, or we do not know it well. And that applies to me, too. We grope in the twilight, we do not see reality clearly. We are ignorant, although as clergy we often profess ourselves wise and understanding; we are not. Second, our own hearts and minds are not sufficiently set on the reality of God, so we are not in a position to unmask how others are evading the truth. We are blinded by our own evil-doings, dabbling in darkness. Third, knowing ourselves to be sinful, we do not want to be “judgmental” of others, but we want to extend to them God’s mercy and forgiveness. And so we blunt the word, and keep it “positive.” Not living the truth, how can we speak the truth? Fourth, we know that if we speak the truth more directly, we could lose parishioners. And we do not want to lose parishioners. Nor do we want to lose the contributions that they offer. All too often, “it’s about the money, Skip.” We are afraid, are we not, that if we truly “tell it like it is,” we will empty the already emptying churches, and not even collect enough money to pay the bills--or our salaries.
The day I entered the monastery, 4 July 1982, this text was read during the Sunday liturgy. I already sensed the truth of the words, and in time I saw how they fit my monastic community: “They are a rebellious house.”
And I have long seen in the churches in this country: “They are a rebellious house.” And the Catholic Church: “Also a rebellious house.”
Why is it that one hears so few homilies or sermons that tell us that we are rebellious, that we have indeed hardened our hearts and minds to the living God? Why are so many homilies in the Catholic Church so generic, so full of “God loves you” and “God forgives you,” and so short on the stark truth: “This is a stiff-necked people, who have turned their hearts and minds from God?”
Why do my homilies often lack the sharpness and spirit-filled power that they ought to have, if indeed I can be an instrument of God’s truth to this rebellious house?
We clergy often avoid being prophetic, direct, challenging for several reasons, I think: First, many of us do not know the truth, or we do not know it well. And that applies to me, too. We grope in the twilight, we do not see reality clearly. We are ignorant, although as clergy we often profess ourselves wise and understanding; we are not. Second, our own hearts and minds are not sufficiently set on the reality of God, so we are not in a position to unmask how others are evading the truth. We are blinded by our own evil-doings, dabbling in darkness. Third, knowing ourselves to be sinful, we do not want to be “judgmental” of others, but we want to extend to them God’s mercy and forgiveness. And so we blunt the word, and keep it “positive.” Not living the truth, how can we speak the truth? Fourth, we know that if we speak the truth more directly, we could lose parishioners. And we do not want to lose parishioners. Nor do we want to lose the contributions that they offer. All too often, “it’s about the money, Skip.” We are afraid, are we not, that if we truly “tell it like it is,” we will empty the already emptying churches, and not even collect enough money to pay the bills--or our salaries.
Is this true?
