Getting rid of only

Introduction

Liturgical now

Here we are in the second week of Ordinary Time and back to the color green, but just for a brief moment. In less than a month we will re-enter the Extraordinary Time of Lent on Ash Wednesday (February 9th) in preparation for Easter and for the glories of spring 2005. In the meantime, the next couple of Sundays will focus on discipleship--on the following of Jesus. But first we ask, who is this Jesus we Christians follow? Isaiah in the first reading says he is “a light unto the Gentiles” (Is 49:6). In the gospel, a voice from heaven at his baptism says that Jesus is a son in whom God the Father is well pleased (Jn 1:34).  Of himself Jesus says he is the truth, the life and the way (Jn l4:6).

 

Jesus: the only way

In my jaunts along Lake Michigan at early dawn over the years and through the four seasons I find a great variety of things: nice jackets, a heap of sunglasses, cell phones, driver’s licenses, and wallets sometimes packed with money (I like the ones that have no identification in them). I find also a whole bunch of unmentionables. Years ago I came across this twenty dollar bill. With great delight I snatched it up, and, lo and behold, there was the answer to our question today: who is this Jesus whom we follow? It was, indeed, a strange twenty dollar bill. It didn’t read, “In God we trust.” Instead it read, “Don’t be fooled. JESUS(in big capitals)is the only way--John 3:16.” Jesus says, “I am the way.” The twenty dollar bill said even more: Jesus is the only way.

 

When I noticed the bill was a phony, my delight turned into dismay. You can’t fill a gas tank with a phony twenty dollar bill. Now I had no idea what John 3:16 says. I’d make a poor Protestant preacher because, for the life of me, I can never remember the chapter and verse of any text. I quote the parable of the Good Samaritan almost every Sunday, and, for the life of me, I still don’t know what chapter and verses it is. I do know it’s from my very favorite evangelist Luke, but chapter and verse always escapes me.

 

To cover up my typical Catholic ignorance of scripture, I looked up John 3:16 on the sneak, and this is what it says, “For God loved the world so much that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him might not die but have eternal life” (Jn 3:16). For the life of me I don’t know how that counterfeiter got his bottom line that “Jesus is the only way” from that text.

 

Jesus: the only mediator

If scripture doesn’t seem to squarely declare that Jesus is the one only way, it does seem to squarely declare that he is the one and only mediator between God and us. I Timothy 2:5 reads, “For there is only one God, and there is only one mediator between God and mankind, himself a man, Jesus Christ.” That’s the Jerusalem Bible translation. But another translation of the same text reads, “For there is one God, and there is one mediator who brings God and mankind together, himself a man, Christ Jesus.” Yes indeed, Jesus is a mediator between God and us, but the translation doesn’t flatly declare he’s the only mediator. And much less does the Living Bible translation (which is always very interpretative) declare it. It reads, “ For God is on one side and all the people are on the other side, and Christ Jesus, himself man, is between them to  bring them together by giving his life for all mankind.” Again, yes indeed, Jesus is a mediator, but that translation doesn’t flatly proclaim he’s the only mediator.

 

Such “lukewarm” translations which fail to flatly proclaim that Jesus is the only mediator or the only way displease not only fundamentalist Protestants but also many mainstream Protestants as well. Catholics, on the other hand, have less a problem here, for we are always praying to other mediators besides Jesus. We pray to the Mother of God and to the saints and to our own beloved dead to intercede for us before the throne of grace.

 

“Only”-- a constant temptation

Why, we ask, is that word “only” such a universal temptation for everyone and especially for religion? Just yesterday that word “only” loomed up at a funeral liturgy at which I was concelebrating. It jarred and marred everything for me. It was Communion time, and the chief priest said, “Catholics may now come up and receive Holy Communion!” What could those words possibly mean All Catholics know when it is time to come to Communion. The chief priest was really saying, “Only Catholics may now receive.” That was transubstantiation at its worse; it changed the substance of Communion into the substance of division and separation.

 

Why, we ask, is that word “only” such a universal temptation for everyone and especially for religion? “Only” was always a temptation in Catholicism. For centuries our Church claimed that the she was the only way. “Extra ecclesiam, nulla salus.” “Outside the Church there is no salvation.” “Only” has always been a temptation for Protestants who insist, much more vehemently than Catholics, that Jesus is the only mediator and the only way. “Only” is obviously an irresistible temptation for very many Muslims, even for those who aren’t terrorists. For them Islam is the only way. For a great number of them, Jihad, in its less spiritual understanding, is the holy war waged to make the whole world follow the one and only way of Islam.  

 

A mission of conversion

Strange as it might sound that word “only,” which so often blights religion, arises out of a perverted need for mission—out of a perverted need to be an in-group having an out-group against which to exercise a mission. Jews, Christians and Muslims, in their less noble moments, all need to have infidels against whom (not for whom) they can exercise a mission. That mission is either one of conversion or of annihilation. In a mission of conversion you get rid of the other, who is always inferior to you, by making the other look just like you. In a mission of conversion you get rid of the other by making the other sing and dance just as you do, because your way is the only way. At the end of the day such a mission is haughty and loveless at heart.

 

I can easily sniff it out when such a mission is at work. One Sunday before Mass, Simeon and I were on our accustomed trek along Lake Michigan.  It was early sunrise, and the sun was just stepping out of the water. Out of the dim dawn I heard some kids, some young adults, beckoning me. When I approached they greeted me in a rather lovey-dovey sort of way. After politely shaking hands and introducing themselves, one of them extended an invitation saying, “You’re welcome to stay on with us to greet the rising sun and to praise the Lord with us.”  Immediately I was aware of what was going on. I had gone through this before, and I knew it was  not going to be as nice as it sounded.  These were born-agains, and they were out to do a “Jesus job” on me.

 

I always end up fighting with such people. First of all, I tell them that I am a priest. I think that will scare them with the thought that they’re trying to preach to a priest, and they’ll let me alone.  It only eggs them on all the more. Now they see me as a prize catch. I come quickly to my bottom line. With very few words, I tell them I am a human being who should be approached as a human being and not as a job to be done or as a notch to be marked in their belts. Period. Then, without further ado, I take off because when Jesus is the only way there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.

 

Christian mission isn’t to spread the world’s love for Jesus. It’s not to get as many people as possible to love Jesus. That can be quite loveless, and it can easily deteriorate into a mission of numbers, as the history of Christian mission shows. The mission isn’t to spread the world’s love for Jesus but rather Jesus’ love for the world.  It’s a play on words, but it says something very important. Mother Theresa didn’t spread the Hindu world’s love for Jesus. Perhaps she never converted and baptized one single Hindu. I suspect down deep in her heart of hearts she didn’t even try. All she did was kiss all these dying throw-aways and send them off to heaven, baptized in and saved by the thought they were kissable. Mother Theresa simply spread Jesus’ love for the Hindu world, and she did it in such an outstanding manner that she far surpassed that great missionary St. Francis Xavier, who baptized thousands and thousands of pagans in the early 16th century.

 

A mission of annihilation

Worse than a mission of conversion is the mission of annihilation. The perverted need for a mission to exercise against someone can be so extremely sick as to be even a mission of annihilation. The Nazis claimed that the Master Race was the only race.  That conferred upon them the horrendously sick mission of getting rid of six million Jews not by converting them (they weren’t interested in that) but  by putting them to death in gas chambers or reducing them to ashes in the furnaces of the Holocaust. Islamists claim that Islam is the only way. That conferred upon them the horrendously sick mission of making holocausts, burnt offerings, out of three thousand innocent  infidels in the rubble of 9/11.

 

Washing “only” away

“Jesus is the only way.” Is it possible for Christians to wash the word “only” out of ourselves and still be passionately Christian? Dr. Joseph Hough, president of Union Theological Seminary in New York, thinks so. He thinks Christians should have a new approach to other religions. Belonging to the Calvinist tradition, he strongly believes in the sovereignty of God. The sovereign God, he says, is free to come to us in the human person of Jesus, if  God so chooses. That’s what makes Christmas possible.  But the same God is free also to come to others in some human person other than Jesus, if the sovereign God so chooses. To be passionately Christian we don’t have to insist that Jesus is the only way. To be passionately Christian we don’t have to knock someone down or cross someone out in order to build Jesus up. Our beloved Lord and Savior needs no such ugly help from anyone. He stands on his own great glorious record.

 

“Jesus is the only way.” When we Christians manage to wash the word “only” out of ourselves, then we no longer have to look upon beloved Jewish, Buddhist and Muslim friends of ours as creatures from another planet or, worse yet, as infidels. (That always quietly lurks in the back of our minds.) When we Christians manage to wash the word “only” out of ourselves, then we no longer merely tolerate Jews, Buddhists and Muslims. We are free to be more magnanimous than that. We are free to give them welcome as brothers and sisters in the family of one and the same God and Father who reveals himself to us in the human face of Jesus and who reveals himself to them in some other human face.

 

 “Jesus is the only way.” When we Christians wash that “only” out of ourselves, then we lift a burden from Jesus’ back. He no longer has to go about proclaiming himself better than anyone else--better than Buddha, better than Mohammed, better than Moses. We don’t countenance such strut in others; why should we have to countenance it in our beloved Savior? Furthermore, that strut doesn’t fit in well with Jesus who said, “Learn of me for I am meek and humble of heart.” We also lift a burden from our own backs. We no longer have to go about claiming, either in a quiet or loud way, that we are superior to all other religious people.

 

Yes, Jesus is the way. Where does he lead us? He leads us on the road to Jericho where a man is waylaid by robbers and is left half dead. On that road we don’t become an in-group of Christians looking for an out-group against whom to exercise a mission of conversion. On that road we become a shining church of Samaritans exercising a mission not of conquest but of compassion.

 

Conclusion

Other ways

“Our way isn’t the only way.” That’s the Ite Missa est, the dismissal, of Mass today. It doesn’t take one speck of Christian passion away from us. It only enhances our Christian passion, for we are relieved and delighted with a way that gives us the freedom to be enriched by other ways. “My way isn’t the only way.” That’s the dismissal of Mass today, sending us home to our families and friends. “My way isn’t the only way.”  Such dismissal takes nothing away from us but sets us free to be enriched by other ways.