LITURGY
AND LIFE
Leah
Perrault
We’re
invited to see the world with God’s eyes
19th Sunday in Ordinary
Time
August 8, 2010
Wisdom 18:6-9
Psalm 33
Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19
Luke 12:32-48
With all the rain that has
been washing Saskatoon’s city streets clean these last couple
of months, my two-year-old daughter has developed quite the meteorological
sensibilities. When I suggest that we go outside to play in the sandbox,
she says, “We better go quick. It’s going to rain!”
The bangs and crashes from the nearby rail yard are quickly diagnosed:
“That thunder is going to get us, Mommy!” And when the rain
is on the way and my husband and I try to rush our meandering explorer
in from the park, she exclaims that “We’re gonna get soakin’
wet . . . that be really bad, right?”
Whether Robyn is diagnosing
the weather or giving us her take on the day’s events, we usually
find life through her eyes pretty funny. I often think that God must
feel the same way about the way we see the world.
In the first reading, the writer of Wisdom interprets the deliverance from Egypt through his eyes. He paints a picture of the ancient scene as though the whole thing was entirely clear to those asked to eat the first Passover and flee slavery while being chased by their angry captors. The writer of Wisdom is not trying to deceive us; rather, he’s making a theological point about reality: that the same situation in which we find ourselves blessed can be a source of suffering for others. While this passage of Scripture is certainly as sacred as all the others in the Bible, sometimes I wonder how God will tell us the story on the other side of heaven.
The most amazing part of this first reading is where the author says
that the people agreed to the covenant of faith, “so that the
saints would share alike the same things, both blessings and dangers.”
When I am running late for an important meeting, I never pray that God
make all the lights green and make me aware that my speeding is dangerous
to myself and others. I never thank God for the near crash while breathing
gratitude for avoiding it.
In the second reading, we hear a theological reflection on the faith,
promises and suffering of Abraham and Sarah. Again, this author tells
us a different version of the story than we read in Genesis. Surely
Sarah wept bitterly for her years of infertility, and Abraham was scared
and somewhat resentful while he prepared to offer Isaac. There is great
blessing in their story, but living it could not have transpired without
very real and human anxiety, frustration and even doubt.
This summer I travelled to northern Saskatchewan for a pilgrimage. Before
leaving, I had naively romanticized the faith of the Dene people, hoping,
I think, to find somewhere a piece of the church unstained by cynicism,
polemics and fear. I discovered some of the wisdom of a new (to me)
people filled with faith, but whose challenges are unique and real and
whose faith is as human as everywhere else I have lived. My eyes were
opened and my heart softened a bit by God’s presence everywhere
and God’s great restraint in not intervening to change the world
to the way I would like it to be!
God’s way of seeing the world is the most truthful version of
reality. As we follow Christ, we are invited to see the world as God
sees it, to enter without deception into the complexity of our reality
without telling the story in a way that makes us right and everyone
else wrong. The Gospel makes this even clearer than the first two readings.
Jesus tells two stories about being ready and responsible. Following
God does not entitle us to special circumstances and an altered version
of reality, even if our desperate prayers betray a hint of this hope
in our understanding of God. The easy way is not around the challenges
but through them, trusting in the presence and wisdom of God.
As were the disciples of Jesus, we are privileged to be invited into
God’s way of seeing the world. Authentic faith will yield a more
truthful vision of reality, and with wisdom, we hope we will navigate
reality with faith, integrity and justice for all of God’s people.
And that insight leads me back to my journey of parenthood. In the middle
of a sleepless night not too long ago, a sick toddler begged me for
one more rock in the rocking chair, and her frustrated, exhausted mother
said, “I can’t. I’m just too tired.” She relented,
rolled over and let out an exaggerated yawn while she reached over to
rub my back: “I’m too tired, too, Mommy.” If only
we could all be so quick to change our hearts when God gives us another
perspective.
Perrault is the director of pastoral services at the Catholic Pastoral
Centre in Saskatoon. She and her husband Marc welcomed their first daughter,
Robyn, in October 2007.
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