G.K. Chesterton

Everthing Matters – Except Everything

My homily this Sunday is about our human tendency to forget God. To put this tendency into context, I would like to begin with an observation by G.K. Chesterton. He said that one of the characteristics of the modern world is our willingness to talk about everything – nothing is off the table. He added, though, that there is one thing we are embarrassed to talk about: everthing! As Chesterton says, for us “everything matter – except everything.”

What does Chesterton mean when he says that we talk about “everything except everything”? Well, people have opinions about politics, movie stars, crime, fashions, climate, the causes of illnesses and the latest scandals – you name it and people have their opinion and they express it freely. But we shy away from talking about everything itself: What is this universe, this existence we have been thrown into? And what – or who – is behind it all?

We steer away from those questions. Our reluctance – even our embarrassment – to talk about everything itself has had an effect on us. We are busy about many things. We are concerned about many things – but we have forgotten everything.

The Israelites were in a similar situation during the Babylonian Exile. We heard about it in the first reading. In Babylon the Jewish people encountered new problems – and new opportunities. Many of them prospered in Babylon. Perhaps because of that prosperity, they tended to forget their home – to forget Jerusalem. The Psalm writer gives a warning, “If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand be forgotten.” To forget Jerusalem would be to forget God. That would be fatal.

Now, Babylon on the banks of the Tigres and Euphrates Rivers was attractive, even exciting. The exiles faced a temptation to get comfortable in Babylon. If they did that, however, they risked losing the one thing that really mattered – their home, Jerusalem, God himself. The Psalmist, therefore, speaks out: “May my tongue cleave to my palate if I remember you not, if I place not Jerusalem ahead of my joy.”

You and I can also forget our true home. We can get so busy, so concerned with everything that we forget everything itself. Like the exiles we need a reminder. Let me give you an example (this is a true story):¹

Once a middle-age priest had a visit from two young nuns. Since he didn’t have any food in his refrigerator, he invited them to a nearby restaurant. It was a nice a day and they walked. As they were going down the street, the priest noticed heads turning. At first the priest thought they were looking at him, but he quickly realized they were not looking at him, but at the Sisters. It was not that there weren’t other nice looking young ladies or even strangely dressed ones. There was something about the veil those Sisters were wearing. They were calling attention not to themselves, but to the Bridegroom. Some weeks later the priest ran into a lady who said, “I am not a Catholic, but I saw those Sisters the other day with you. I just felt something good inside of me.”

Those young Sisters – simply by the authenticity of their lives – they helped people remember God: To pause from all things worrying them, to forget about everything happening and to think about everything itself. To remember God.

How do we remember God? It’s not like trying to recall where I put the keys. It’s not a question of racking one’s mind. The truth is that none of us can remember God unless he remembers us. God has to take the intiative. And he does. As we heard in the Gospel, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.”

To remember God, the first thing is to recognize that He is other. He is distinct from us and we from him. We are not splinters of God. We did not emanate from him – like rays of the light from the sun. We are, rather, his image – like a reflection in a mirror. When I look in a mirror – after I get over the initial disappointment – I recognize that is me. But of course the image only exists if I continue in front of the mirror. The image is distinct from me, but it does not exist apart from me.

So it is with us and God. Our existence depends on him. But we did not ooze from him. He made us in his image and likeness. And He gave us all, including the great gift of freedom – but we used our freedom to turn our backs on Him. In a word, we sinned.

Because of our sins, we try to hide from our Maker. We want to forget Him, pretend we have some existence apart from Him. That has become our natural tendency. We have spent so much time forgetful of God we cannot now remember Him unless He remembers us. That is why the Bible has so many prayers such as, “Remember your people, O Lord” or more simply, “Remember me.” Those are good prayers, especially these last weeks of Lent. It’s not because God has to be reminded, but we certainly do. Remember me, Lord, that I might remember you.

We need silence to remember God. We need something else – a willingness to let light shine on our lives. That can be a little scary. All of us have things we would rather others did not know about – and maybe we are even afraid for God to know about. For that reason Jesus says, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” God does not want to condemn us. He wants to save us. He has saved us – in his Son Jesus. Remember me, Lord, that I might remember you.

To sum up: We have opinions about everything at all, but we shy from everything itself. As Chesterton says, for us “everything matters – except everything.” This is fatal because it causes us to forget our true home. “If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand be forgotten!” Remember me, Lord, that I might remember you.

Bottom line: As Chesterton says, for people today “everything matters – except everything.” This is fatal because it causes us to forget our true home. Remember me, Lord, that I might remember you.

¹- The middle-aged priest was me. I adapted the account so any homilist can use the illustration. Continue reading »

The Coming Tsunami

This Sunday Jesus has some bad news. He speaks about a coming disaster, a disaster that has implications for us today: the destruction of the Temple.

In his Catholicism video series, Fr. Bob Barron tries bring home what the Temple meant to people of that time. “In an American context,” Fr. Barron says, “we’d have to imagine a violation of some combination of the National Cathedral, the Lincoln Center and the White House.” But it was even more personal than that. For a first century Jew, the Temple was his beloved. To destroy the Temple would be to destroy him.

But the destruction of the Temple did take place, as Jesus predicted. In 70 A.D. the Roman army surrounded Jerusalem and eventually the people inside ran out of food. The historian Josephus describes the horror as people even resorted to cannibalism.¹ Eventually, the army breached the walls, set fire to the city and – what was most terrible – entered the inner sanctuary of the Temple and looted the Holy of Holies.

Could something so terrible happen today? Please God, no, but we do see signs things are getting worse in our world, in our American society – and perhaps even in some of our families. We have come to accept evils that we could barely imagine a few decades ago. And let’s be honest – some who are listening to me, may be caught in a downward spiral. G.K. Chesterton said, “Men may keep a sort of level of good, but no man has ever been able to keep on one level of evil. That road goes down and down.”

We fool ourselves thinking we can bracket evil. No, it seeps through everything. At first it may not seem so. People say things like, “Well, the sky hasn’t fallen. Everything will continue like before.” But – as was the case with the destruction of the Temple – there comes the moment of no return. It is like the tectonic plates under the ocean bed slowing reaching the breaking point. As Jesus tells us today, it would be naive to think that no disaster could come upon us. Unless we radically repent, a tsunami will overwhelm us.

The question is: what can we do to prepare for a possible tsunami? Let me draw a lesson from one of the ship captains when that huge tsunami struck the Pacific rim. His boat, filled with passengers, was in a harbor. The warning came that a moving wall of water was on its way. The radio told people to seek high ground. But this ship captain took a different course. He put out to see. The deep waters absorbed most of the shock. His ship and passengers survived. The great destruction took place in the shallow waters.²

There is a lesson here. With a tsunami coming, we need to put out to the deep waters. If we stay in the shallows, we will be washed away. I would now like to tell you where to find the deep waters.

At the beginning of the homily, I mentioned that the Gospel contains bad news – the imminent destruction of the Temple. It represents all the inconceivable disasters of human history – perhaps one looming for us. That is the bad news. Besides this bad news, the Gospel contains good news. Jesus speaks about the rebuilding of the temple – in three days. He means his body, his Risen Body. There we find the deep waters – a relationship with Jesus through his Church, his body. Don’t be deceived. You cannot have a disembodied Jesus – a relationship with Jesus must include his body, the Church. St. Joan of Arc expressed it this way: “About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know they’re just one thing, and we shouldn’t complicate the matter.”³

So come to the deep waters. Come to Jesus. Come to his Church. In a few moments we will have the First Scrutiny. It reminds us that the power of Jesus is greater than any spiritual or earthly power.

With a tsunami coming, we must put out to the deep waters. Come to Jesus and his Body, the Church.

¹- Jewish Wars

²- Credit for this illustration goes to Fr. William Joenson, writing in The Magnificat Lenten Companion.

³- 795 Christ and his Church thus together make up the “whole Christ” (Christus totus). The Church is one with Christ. The saints are acutely aware of this unity: Let us rejoice then and give thanks that we have become not only Christians, but Christ himself. Do you understand and grasp, brethren, God’s grace toward us? Marvel and rejoice: we have become Christ. For if he is the head, we are the members; he and we together are the whole man. . . . The fullness of Christ then is the head and the members. But what does “head and members” mean? Christ and the Church.230 Our redeemer has shown himself to be one person with the holy Church whom he has taken to himself.231 Head and members form as it were one and the same mystical person.232 A reply of St. Joan of Arc to her judges sums up the faith of the holy doctors and the good sense of the believer: “About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know they’re just one thing, and we shouldn’t complicate the matter.”233 Continue reading »

Time to Place Your Bet

As the life of G.K. Chesterton illustrates: Whatever the cost, now is the time to place your bet.

This Sunday’s readings speak about repentance. We hear Jonah calling the Assyrians to repentance. Jesus begins his public ministry with similar urgency: “This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the Gospel.” To illustrate repentance I would like to use a famous twentieth century convert… Continue reading »

“Dogma divides.”

Misleading Slogan #5 “Dogma divides.” Recently I picked up a liberal Catholic magazine which featured an interview with Bishop Gaillot of France. As you might remember he was the French bishop who was asked to step down from his diocese because of certain doctrinal deviations. In the interview the bishop spoke about his hopes for … Continue reading »

“Against Abortion? Don’t Have One.” – Abortion and Free Choice

Misleading Slogan #10 “Against Abortion? Don’t Have One.” I try to understand other people’s opinions. Those who read the articles in this website will have to judge if I have done a fair job presenting contrary views. If I have missed the mark, I welcome correction. There is one line of reasoning I do have … Continue reading »