7 - 21 - 17 Sacrifices, Intercession, and the Community (4 minutes)

The reading from Exodus concerns the origin of Passover and it led me to two thoughts.

1. How often do we really make a conscious sacrifice to God, and are mindful of it in the doing?

2. How often do we recognize that some issue of our life is out of our control and ask God for help?

On the first point I know for myself the last time would have been a couple of months ago but I’m really not even sure that qualifies. We were running gassers, a conditioning test that sounds as pleasant as it is and I was offering each rep as an intercession for my Uncle Jerry. (I stole that idea of intercessory effort from Matthew Kelly's Resisting Happiness)

But the last time I sacrificed something to God out of my own selfish comforts for the mere sake of glorifying God? I cannot recall. The last time I refused dessert, not because of any concern for my waistline but to say, “Here I will enter into the least suffering voluntarily, so as to better understand the Passion and grow in my faith.” I think God is often in our minds when we are going through suffering involuntarily, in fact he is the only reason we are able to persist when the flesh is weak.

I think it’s a question we should ponder, even if it is not necessarily a call to action. The last thing I am suggesting is burning a pile of our money as an offering to God, thinking that he will favor us because of it, that is pagan thinking. But what I mean is that a little willful deprivation can, in the correct frame of mind, be used to draw ourselves closer to Christ in likeness and devotion.

I would say abstinence and moderation, in the general sense, is not even considered a virtuous thing in my generation. I also agree that the pleasures God gives are good and can be enjoyed in a holy way, but there is much precedent for fasting, sacrifice, and humiliation as a means of progressing in our faith. Even Jesus did it and refused what is obviously good, bread and water in the desert. Monks, priests, soldiers, and countless other professions of discipline have used deprivation as a way to harden their wills and prepare themselves for greater challenges. I’d say following Christianity perfectly fits in with these as a profession of discipline and therefore it is not unreasonable to consider using similar tactics.

On the second point I think we usually do better. Many people, at least, are capable of throwing their hands up and saying, “it is God’s will.” But I don’t think this is quite the most prayerful way of doing this.

Firstly, as an instrument of God’s will, we cannot be sure it is time for our efforts to cease without much prayer. Just as the bricklayer must ask the foreman before he can leave the project to start a new one, we may walk out before the prerequisite work needed from us is completed, and thereby stall or derail the whole project. It is rare that we make the mistake of being too persistent. Nay, we are usually far too ready and glad to place the burden on God for our own fortunes in life.

Secondly, if we go into this abdication prayerfully, rather than simply saying “I give up” and metaphorically walking away, no longer caring what’s happening in the project, we may miss out on something. There may be lessons in the way God intervenes or does not intervene for us. We may learn more deeply of His will by watching closely the events in our life that unfold when He is the primary actor.

It is just as though you were testing the effects of two liquids on cement. Most of your life they are poured together, at the same time and mixed perfectly, and you can guess at which bit is doing which, though I assume we are usually wrong. But when we prayerfully, honestly, and correctly perceive that an event in our life is from that point up to the will of God, we may view one element in the mixture on its own, and construe from its behavior features we never could have guessed watching its mixing. Indeed it may even change character when not mixed with our own nature, just as rust is completely different in its characteristics from iron, via the mere addition of oxygen.

The Gospel mentions the incident where the Pharisees catch Jesus’s disciples plucking corn (or grain) on the sabbath and call him blasphemous. Christ’s response is that He is, by virtue of being Lord of all, Lord also of the sabbath, and that such laws serve to aid in man’s redemption.

The conclusions one can draw from this can lead down a slippery slope, but the faith of cowardice (in approaching difficult questions) is no faith at all. Let’s remember to keep our own Church in perspective. All of our rules, traditions, and teachings serve to bring Christ to others, and should serve Christ directly.

There is the fear of someone taking this too far, tossing out the rulebook and doing whatever they feel is the will of Christ at that very moment. I think it is entirely too obvious this kind of non-communal, individualistic religion is not what Christ intended. Christ knows churches and their structures, he is a devout Jew. He says to Peter, upon this rock I will build my Church. His teachings are full of the importance of communion and the Epistles firmly maintain the power of community in holding the faithful accountable.

Did Jesus intend a new Church? Quite so. A new and improved church imbued with a new spirit of life, His life. How people gather from this that we are to have no physical churches, no communities of faith, no Knights of Columbus or Council of Catholic Women, is beyond me. You cannot improve a good thing by utterly destroying it. Utter destruction would only improve the state of something if it were already an inherently bad thing that could not even be remade into something good.