Today’s question is for older folks, those who are my age or maybe a few years younger. If you’re under forty you may not be able to answer this one. My question is: How many of you remember the smell of burning leaves? Can you recall the fragrance of this autumn incense, an aroma telling you it was late September or early October. Summer had, indeed, ended and winter would soon be here.
It may be hard for young people to believe there was a time when children raked leaves onto the street in front of their homes, and, under the watchful eyes of their parents, set a match to the huge piles along the curbs. They saw the brilliant golds and reds be transformed, with sweet smelling clouds, into mere ashes to be spread around the garden beds. Then came a recognition such burnings contributed to air pollution and bronchial health problems. Autumn leaf-burning was no more.
It, also, eliminated another burning, the burning of trash, a mixture of un-namable things giving off odors which were far from the aroma of burning leaves. Trash burning was a greater source of true air pollution than was the mere burning of leaves. Yet, the burning of rubbish heaps has an ancient history. It was the best way, in fact the only way, to get rid of the unwanted, undesirable leftovers of life.
Perhaps, the most famous of all of the trash heaps of history is the one which smoldered near Jerusalem in the time of Christ. Its stench covered the city on days when pockets of gas would spontaneously ignite, as happens with decaying organic matter. This trash heap even had a name. It was “Gehenna.”
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus refers to it three times. If your hand or your foot or your eye leads you to sin, it is better to get rid of them, he said, than to be cast into Gehenna. In the Middle Ages, some Christians took his words quite literally and maimed their bodies in hopes of avoiding the even greater fires of hell. Yet, other Christians realized Jesus was using a rhetorical technique called hyperbole, an exaggeration, to make his point.
What was his point? It was: you must give up whatever is keeping you away from full participation in the Kingdom of God. In a time when all work was done by hand, when everything you did involved your hands, Jesus said: no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem, you must stop doing whatever it is that separates you from the Kingdom of God. In a time when all travel involved walking from place to place, when all movement was by foot, Jesus said: no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem, you must stop going to those places which might separate you from the Reign of God. In a time when seeing was the only way to internalize events outside of yourself, when the inner eye was the center of our mind and thought, Jesus said: no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem, you must stop meditating on evil and avoid all thoughts that might separate you from God.
Today, we use more than our hands for doing things, accomplishing things. Today, we use more than our feet to move from place to place. Today, we use more than our eyes for taking in all that surrounds us. But, the admonitions, the warnings of Jesus, are just as relevant to us today as when his listeners could see and smell the fires of Gehenna.
If my action separates me from God or from others who are the Body of Christ, I must stop doing it. If I go to a place that separates me from God or from others who are the Body of Christ, I must stop going there. If I contemplate or entertain thoughts which separate me from God or from others who are the Body of Christ, I must stop thinking or taking delight in such things.
Similar warnings are reiterated in the letter from Saint James we heard today. St James cautions us: All of our resources (our wealth) is subject to decay. All of our defenses against the elements (our coverings) are subject to being worn out. Even our gold and silver, all those objects which we have assumed will last forever, will in fact, have an end.
At first, it might seem these readings focus on only negative actions: our need to avoid sin and to realize material acquisitions will not guarantee us life in the Kingdom of God. Merely desisting from negative actions is only part of the requirement for being in the company of Jesus the Christ. Positive action is also demanded, no matter how small that action might be, no matter how simple the action might be. Even if it is giving a cup of water to a thirsty person to drink
And who is called to eliminate such negatives and pursue the positives? Are they only the direct members of the company of Christ? Are they the only ones who can drive out demons in the name of Christ? Some of the disciples thought this was the case. They wanted Jesus to denounce those who were not among his closest followers.
Their views were not new. In the first reading we heard even Joshua, a life-long companion of Moses, say that those who were not present for the direct Epiphany of God, the direct touch of God – they should not prophesy, they should not speak for the Lord God. And what did Moses reply? “Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!” And he did. The Lord God did make it possible for all of us to be prophets, for all of us to have the spirit bestowed upon us.
This is what God gives us in the gift of Baptism: to become prophet, priest and protector. To become one who speaks of God, one who helps others become part of the Kingdom of God – both in the holiness of being priests and the compassion of true protectors.
Yes, we no longer need the aroma of burning leaves to remind us summer has ended, and a new season of change is upon us. We can recognize the need for change without external reminders of the fires of Gehenna. Instead, we have the fire of Christ burning within us. Our fire is the one felt by the two disciples at Emmaus when the word and bread of Christ were broken and shared. Our fire is the one showered upon the disciples at Pentecost. Our fire is the one given to us at our Baptism, for we are to be the fire. We are to be the Light of Christ to be kept burning until he returns.
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary time, September 28, 2003
Num 11:25-29; Jas 5:1-6; Mk 9:38-43,45, 47-48