An out-spoken Jesus

The religious leaders of Jesus’ day, the Scribes and Pharisees, put him to death because he was so outspoken. He complained that they didn’t practice what they preached, that they laid heavy burdens on people’s backs and didn’t lift a finger to help them. He described them as ostentatious clowns who widen their phylacteries, lengthen the tassels on their prayer shawls, revel in flattering salutations in the market place and grab the seats of honor in synagogues and at banquets (Mt 23: 1-12).

His tirade against the religious authorities of his day would be similar to my speaking harshly about our bishops, saying, “They don’t practice what they preach. They place heavy burdens upon our backs and don’t help us to carry them. They’re ostentatious as they prance around in showy chasubles and balance mighty miters on their heads.”

I confess that a few such sassy thoughts came to mind while recently in Rome. The Eternal City was filled with important bishops attending a synod on the Eucharist called by Benedict XVI. They were a dime a dozen in St. Peter’s Square. All were dressed in long black soutanes edged with red piping. All sported flashy red sashes, and all were topped with a red skullcap. With briefcase in hand, they hurried off to their daily meetings. Looking neither to the right nor left, they passed by the people of God for whom they were going to take it upon themselves to teach and legislate concerning the Eucharist.

Jesus ends his tirade against the Scribes and Pharisees by spelling out true greatness for his followers: “As for you,” he admonishes them, “do not follow their example. Among you whoever aspires to greatness must be the servant of others. Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted"

(Mt 23:12).

Wrong messages

On another occasion Jesus spells out true greatness for his followers with the very same words. In Mark’s gospel the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, approach Jesus with a self-serving request: “Master, grant that we may sit on thrones in your kingdom, one on your right hand and the other on your left.” Jesus puts them straight, saying, “As you know, kings and so-called great men of this world like to lord it over other people. But it must not be that way among you. Among you whoever aspires to greatness must be the servant of others” (Mk 10:37-42).

That’s in Mark’s gospel. But in Matthew’s gospel, it’s the mother, not the sons, who approaches Jesus with such a request. She beseeches him saying, “Grant that these sons of mine may sit at your right and left hand when you are king” (Mt 20:21). If it is the mother’s request, then she is sending her kids the wrong message about greatness. It’s not something outside a person, like a place of honor you sit in. For Jesus greatness is something within: it is being the servant of others.

Some years back a mother from Texas wanted a coveted spot on the cheerleaders’ team for her daughter. Believe it or not, she was ready to kill for it! She was ready to kill the mother of another girl who was competing for the same spot. She was hoping the girl would be too disturbed to compete successfully. Her plot was discovered. What an insane message about greatness!

Sometimes our message of greatness exhausts or depresses our kids and drives them to drink and drugs. Every now and then it even brings them to suicide, which puts an end to the race for greatness which they never wanted to run in the first place. Many sons and daughters, however, just grit their teeth and fall in line. They join the race to greatness which the culture lays upon them, even though it exhausts them.

A few wise sons and daughters, however, become impatient and even angry at their parents for sending so much message about being a great doctor or a great dentist or a great lawyer or a great cheerleader but so little message about being a great human being. For Jesus that means being a servant of others. They resent their parents for sending so much message about having a good education or good job or good home or a good car, but so little message about having a good human heart. For Jesus that means having the heart of one who serves. That’s a message parents impart to their kids not so much by what they say but by who they are.

How in the world…

In our ow in a culture HHoHoHculture the mighty mass media, not the Gospel, calls the shots about greatness for us and our kids. It slops us, as pigs at a trough, with a steady diet of its own version of greatness. That’s the greatness of the rich and famous. That’s the greatness of basketball and football stars, rock and rap stars, and movie stars and sex stars, whose names it is very important for all of us to know. Many of them are lackluster stars who serve nobody else but themselves. In such a culture how in the world can we make any sense out of the Gospel injunction “to aspire to greatness by becoming the servant of others”? That might seem unrealistic or cringing or glum to some. It’s definitely counter-cultural.

In this day and age service has become an endangered species. It’s a problem we daily bang our heads against. Some of us remember the old days when gas stations were called Service stations. You drove up to the pump, an attendant came running out, filled up the tank, washed the window shield and the back window as well, and then asked whether you wanted the oil checked too. Honest to God that’s the way it used to be in times past. That’s all gone now. The Self-Serve sign out there summarizes the spirit of the age: “Serve yourself because, by gosh, we’re not going to serve you.” In this age, we either do not have the time to serve others, or it is too expensive to serve others, or we are so filled with the “me, me, me” spirit of the culture that we are ready to serve nobody else but ourselves. In this day and age, how in the world can we make any sense out of the Gospel injunction “to aspire to greatness by becoming the servant of others”?

The capitalist atmosphere, in which we live and move and breathe, stresses all the strong virtues like aggression, ambition and competition. Our kids grow up entertaining themselves hour upon hour with electronic games in which human beings are always smashing the faces of other human beings and blowing off their heads. In such an atmosphere, how in the world can they make any sense out of the Gospel injunction “to aspire to greatness by becoming the servant of all”? It sounds so cringing and gloomy.

Gospel greatness in the Good Samaritan

The Good Samaritan made sense out of it. Once upon a time a man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and was waylaid by robbers who left him half dead. Along came a Jewish priest who was a well-known homilist. He was hurrying to Jericho where he was to deliver the homily for the dedication of a new synagogue in that city. He was too busy to stop. Then along came a Levite also hurrying to Jericho to do a number of errands in that city. He also was too busy to stop. Along came a no-good Samaritan. Though he was hurrying to a very important business meeting in Jericho, he slammed on the breaks of his busyness and stopped to become the servant of the poor man waylaid by robbers. He poured the oil of compassion into his wounds, he lifted the man’s dead weight onto his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest inn and there paid for his care and cure.

The sun finally set that very busy day when everyone was rushing to Jericho. All eventually returned home to Jerusalem that night. The Jewish priest’s homily at the dedication of the synagogue was a great success. But the image of the poor man lying by the wayside suddenly flashed across his mind, and an empty feeling cast its shadow across his great success. It was the uneasy feeling of one who serves nobody else but himself. The Levite, too, had a very successful day in Jericho. He got all the errands on his busy list checked-off. But the image of the poor man lying by the wayside suddenly flashed across his mind, and an empty feeling cast its shadow across his very productive day. It was the uneasy feeling of one who serves nobody else but himself.

On the other hand, the Samaritan’s important business meeting that day in Jericho didn’t go very well at all. But when he got home late that night, though disappointed with the failed meeting and exhausted especially by the encounter with the man waylaid by robbers, he wasn’t glum at all. There was, in fact, a song singing in his heart. He wasn’t cringing. He had, in fact, soared like an eagle when he stopped to make himself a servant of the poor man. It put him down in history as the Immortal Good Samaritan who lives on today.

Gospel greatness in Fr. Mychal Judge

He lives on in Fr. Mychal Judge, a Franciscan priest. He was one of the four chaplains for the New York Fire Department, and the story of his death as he was serving others was one of the first to come out of the tragedy of 9/11. The story goes that he had taken his helmet off to give the last rites to a dying fireman when suddenly debris came crashing down upon him. He died there on the spot. His body was carried off to a nearby church and was laid upon the altar.

An article in the New York Magazine said that he was both a recovering alcoholic and gay. In fact, he marched in the first gay-inclusive St. Patrick’s Day parade. The article describes him as very earthy and streetwise and as fitting in very well with the characters and chaos of New York City. In his own house, the church, he was controversial and very unconventional, holding Mass in the most unlikely places, frequently compelling a Monsignor in the New York Chancery to admonish him for this and that.

But the really important part of his story is that he made himself the servant of others. He had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays, and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani himself. A recovering alcoholic, he comforted alcoholics assuring them they weren’t evil people, but that they had an illness that needed to be cured. Though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the city, he lived on an entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers. He wasn’t acquisitive. He wasn’t grabby. He was utterly unselfish and totally uncomplaining. So when a memorial was held for this wonderful servant, an endless flow of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle aged couples from the suburbs streamed into Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave., an Anglican church, to memorialize a Roman Catholic priest.

At his funeral Mass, covered in its entirety by the media, the homilist, one of his Franciscan confreres, related that one year he had asked Mychal what he wanted for Christmas. He replied, “Nothing! Absolutely nothing! I’m the happiest man in the world. I’ve got everything I want.” Gospel greatness (serving others) is not cringing. It made Mychal Judge soar like an eagle. It’s not glum. It set a song singing in his heart proclaiming he was the happiest man who had everything he wanted.

Conclusion

A professor of Gospel greatness

In an exam a professor of dentistry asked his students all the expected questions. (1) How many teeth do we humans have in a lifetime? Answer: We have 20 primary and 32 permanent teeth, 52 in all. (2) What are the front teeth called, and why? Answer: They’re called incisors because they bite into our food. (3) Why are teeth important? Answer: They are important not only for cosmetics reasons but for structural ones as well. Etc., etc. Then came an unexpected question. It did not come from a manual on dentistry; it came from the book of life: What is the name of the little lady who served us all year long by keeping this classroom clean?

What a clever counter cultural message about greatness the professor was teaching! The cleaning lady is also a star, and her name, too, is worthwhile knowing. What a clever message about greatness for all those budding dentists in that classroom who were aspiring to greatness in their profession: they will be truly great if they know the names of their scrubbing lady! What a right on message to all of us who are duped and dazed by a false message of greatness, which we gulp down at the cultural trough.

Ite, Missa est. Go, the Mass is ended. Go and learn the name of your cleaning lady. Ite, Missa est. Go and teach your kid to know the name of their cleaning lady. Succeed in that, and you will have raised a wonderful son or daughter. Ite, Missa est. Go and aspire to greatness by serving others. It’ll make you soar like eagles. It’ll sets a song singing in your hearts.