How many of you have seen “Titanic?” Well, my question for today is for you. As for the rest of you, if you’re not planning to see “Titanic,” you might ask your friends after mass, what my question was all about. And if you haven’t seen it yet, but plan to, I’ll try to phrase my question so it doesn’t give too much away. My question is this: did Rose release “the Heart of the Ocean” by accident or on purpose? Did she relinquish her past by chance or by desire? That actually is a basic question for each one of us. Can I give up my past, what I have held on to, and what I have achieved, in order to move towards an uncertain future – a future that calls me forward, even if I am reluctant to go?
We heard about such an event in today’s first reading about two prophets: Elijah and Elisha. It’s the story of an older, established prophet, Elijah, nearing the end of his days on earth, and the need for him to find a young replacement, one who could continue his work on behalf of the Lord God. So Elijah found Elisha, the son and heir of a very wealthy man. At least his father was wealthy enough to own twelve yoke of oxen. And someday, Elisha would inherit all of his father’s property, both the land and the oxen to work it.
However, that is not what Elijah and the Lord God had in mind for Elisha. Instead of being a wealthy landowner, he was to be a poor, humble prophet who would wander the land and call others to return to the Lord God. When Elijah chose Elisha, the young man was not immediately willing. He wanted to say goodbye to his parents which, to me, seems the least that he should do.
But how did Elijah respond? Well, more or less he said: hey, Elisha, you have your own free will. It’s up to you to do what you want to do. If you want, you can go home and perhaps allow your folks to convince you how foolish it would be to give up all of this and go with me to follow God’s call. It doesn’t matter to me.
And what did Elisha do? Instead of going home, he made it impossible for him to return. He destroyed the wooden yokes in a bonfire he made to roast the slaughtered oxen. That’s destroying your past ties in a big-time way. Yet it appears to be a way that the Lord God approved of. His son advised the same thing to those who would follow him.
In our gospel reading we hear Jesus say to one person: if you follow me, there will be no safe haven, no place for you to hide, no place for you to call home. Even wild animals have lairs to run to. Even birds have places to raise their young. But if you follow me, expect no place even to sleep comfortably.
And to another Jesus said: if you really want to follow me, you must not wait until the time is perfect, a time when you are free of other responsibilities like taking care of your parents. You cannot wait for them to die first; you must come now, immediately.
And to a third he said: if you really want to follow me, you must give up your support group. You must let go of those who have given you comfort and friendship. You must give up your past if you accept my call to journey with me to Jerusalem, to follow your destiny.
And what is our destiny? To what are we called? What are our vocations, our callings: the ways we are to journey with Jesus the Christ? According to what we learned as youngsters in early catechisms, there are three vocations, three callings, three ways we can proceed on our journey with him. We learned that there is the married life, the single life, and the religious life. Let’s take a look for a moment at these three vocations, these three callings.
In the married life one is called to journey with Jesus along side one other person, a spouse. Here in this month of June and of marriages, many remember how a husband and wife are to walk as a couple with Jesus. A couple like the one who accompanied him on the road to Emmaus, who heard him speak, and were present at the breaking of the bread, before returning to the community to share the word – the word that he is risen and is with us now.
In the single life, one is called to journey with Jesus without any other direct assistance but in the company of many others who also walk with him as companions and friends. Each one is like the woman who meets him alone in the garden and then runs to tell the others that he is risen and is with us now.
In the religious life, one is called to journey with Jesus without a unique tie to any one person but rather to the entire community of believers, to the gathering, the Church. Each one is like the beloved disciple who rests beside Jesus at the communal meal, the one who peers into the empty tomb before returning to the community to tell them that the Lord is risen and is with us now.
Yes, whether we are called to journey in the married life, the single life or the religious life, each one of us has the vocation to share that life with others in our community, to tell others: he is risen and is with us now. And we are to live out the words we heard in today’s letter from Saint Paul to the Galatians: “out of love, place yourselves at one another’s service.”
At the same time, Paul reminds us that we are no longer bound by what he calls “the law,” the way of dead traditions that would yoke as to the slavery of the past but rather, we are guided by the spirit.
Paul tells us that it is possible to give up the old ways, the old life; those habits and events which are death-dealing, which make us tear one another to pieces; those actions that lead to mutual destruction.
Jesus knew first-hand about death and destruction, those elements that awaited him in Jerusalem, the place to which he was being called. On the one hand, he realized that this is the city where he would suffer his passion and his death. But Jerusalem would also be the city of his resurrection and of his glorification with God.
The journey before each one of us leads to the destiny of our own Jerusalem: a place of potential despair but also, a place of abiding hope. Perhaps on our journey, we each sail aboard a vessel towards a new land. Our ship may be the Titanic or it may be the Mayflower. And on that journey, we may need to let go of the past, to open our hand, to give up the “Heart of the Ocean” and find the Heart of God.
Thirteen Sunday of Ordinary Time; June 28, 1998
1 Kgs 19:16, 19-21; Gal 5:1, 13-18; Lk 9:51-62