Sermuncle

One of our older priests used to abandon the practice of providing homilies, especially when the whether got warmer.  Insetad, he would provide what he called a sermuncle (a short reflection meant somehow to get people thinking).  Proof perhaps that it doesn't take many words to provide food for thought.

Here then is my attempt at one such publication.  Of course, the podcast version is also available.

Great treasure

If today's gospel were to be told in modern-day language, I wonder whether we would not speak of a barista who is used to working long hours at the nearby coffee house. Perhaps one day, in addition to the tasks of brewing and serving coffee to customers, she is invited to open the sacks of coffee beans, freshly arrived in the warehouse, and to prepare them for the roasting that will impart the characteristic aromas and flavors that make this company's product so sought after. In today's world, she would be sworn to secrecy, or required to sign her life away with legal documentation meant to bind her to some agreement of confidentiality, but she would willingly enter into such an agreement if it meant that she would from that day forward have knowledge of the company secrets.

Jesus uses examples such as these in today's gospel in an attempt to explain to his listeners what heaven is like. He must have had a really rough time of it though. None of these people had ever seen heaven; aside from hearing him speak about it, none of them had even heard of the place, and worse yet, he had to try to explain something that many of his listeners had never known, nor would they ever have had a hope of achieving such affluence here on earth. That's the point of the story though: the reward of heaven is infinitely beyond human understanding. Throughout the centuries we've used words and images to try explaining it but how does one speak of a place never seen or experienced? Human logic would have us doubt such imaginings, and consign them to the world of make believe.

Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned though. What if heaven were a reward far more treasured than any company secret? What if heaven were a reward far more sought after than gold or pearls or any other commodity? What if heaven were a reward which could not be attained by anyone who conceived of it or asked for it, as though it were a reward for good deeds done or even life well lived? Rather, what if heaven were to be discovered only by those who seek wisdom: the gift of truly being able to understand what life is about and to discern what is right so that justice might prevail? It worked for Solomon. Why wouldn't it work for us?