Sunday, February 3, 2008

CHOOSE
YOUR MOUNTAIN


[This is the year of the Gospel of Matthew – Year A – when Matthew will be the gospel we hear at most Sunday Masses in Ordinary Time. Today’s gospel presents the Beatitudes right there at the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:1 to 7:29.) I like to contrast the Sermon on the Mount with the scene in the Book of Exodus when Moses goes up the Mountain – Mount Sinai – and comes down with the Ten Commandments and many other Laws. (Exodus 19:1 – 24:18). The following imaginary reflection tries to get into that message and that contrast.]

I don’t know if you know this, but when we die we’re going to arrive in this big open place. It’s like an enormous parking lot. The light will be very bright. We’ll be rubbing our eyes because we just came out of the dark of death. We’ll be standing there in shock. Hey, we just died. And we’ll be wondering, “Where am I?”

And as we are standing there waiting and wondering, other people who have just died start to show up in this same place. And all of us will be standing there quietly — wondering, “What’s going on?”

Now this open space – that looks like a big open airport parking lot – will be very quiet. Nobody is saying anything. Hey, we’re all scared. And right in the middle of this gigantic parking lot we see a little booth. Instinctively we know this is a important place — because we spot someone inside the booth. He has a beard and it looks like he’s wearing a robe. And it looks like he’s reading a newspaper.

Now when there are about 60 of us standing there – nervous and slowly getting our bearings, the guy in the beard and toga or robe who has been looking out the booth window on a regular basis – as if waiting for something, suddenly folds up his paper and walks outside the booth.

He then signals all of us to come towards the booth. Just then we see two buses – one red – and one blue – coming towards the booth as well. We’re watching all this and saying, “Interesting.”

Then we gather around the guy from the booth – the guy with the robe and the beard and the newspaper. We can read the name of the newspaper: Heavenly Times.

And he says, “Welcome. Congratulations! You’ve made it. My name is Peter. Let me tell you what’s next.” We breathe a sigh of relief. “Phew! We made it.”

Then he says, “Now you have two choices. One: all those who have kept the Ten Commandments or who have tried to keep the Ten Commandments in their life, can take the Blue Bus right there to the Mount of the Ten Commandments.”

And all at once, without even hearing the second choice, everyone heads for the Blue Bus – which has on its destination message: “Mountain of the Ten Commandments.”

Everyone is so happy we made it. Wow we made it to heaven.

Nobody stopped to ask Saint Peter what the second choice was.

And off we go. We’ve arrived.

The bus driver, Saint Christopher, gets on the loudspeaker and he too says, “Welcome.” We pull out of the big parking lot – and start heading up this 8 lane highway.

Then he says, “Up ahead you can see a big mountain. It’s the Mountain of the Ten Commandments. It’s where you’ll be living.”

We look out the windows and he continues, “Now, here’s how it works. I’ll drive you through all the neighborhoods and you can have any mansion that has a vacancy sign on the front lawn. There are always plenty of places that are available. Just jot down the address and street of a place you’d like and I’ll get you back there.”

Soon we see mansions – perfect mansions on both sides of the street. The lawns are putting green perfect. The flowers, trees, birds, the weather – everything is perfect.

And people began jotting down street and mansion numbers – checking with others – who picked what?

St. Christopher says, “Every house is great. The hot water is just right. The cold water is always nice and cold. Everything will be just the way you want it. And if you want things changed, just ask. Anything you want.”

We all pick our place. We move in and in time everyone discovers the food is perfect. The restaurants are perfect. The mansions are perfect. Everything is perfect. Hey, this is the Mountain of the Ten Commandments. Nobody is breaking any commandments here. You don’t have to lock your door at night. Nobody is stealing. Everybody is perfect. It’s heaven.

Yet, even though everything is perfect, something starts to bother us.

While we are playing pinochle, poker, or bridge or Dominos, while we are in our perfect swimming pools, while we are enjoying heavenly movies at night with coffee and chocolates without worrying about not being able to sleep, enjoying a heavenly breeze, we scratch our head once and a while and say to each other, “I wonder what that other mountain is like, you know the one we heard about just after we arrived up here. What was it called again?”

And nobody knew what it was called.

So finally we get up enough nerve to telephone St. Peter and ask, “Hey the day we arrived here, you gave us two choices. I live on the Mountain of the Ten Commandments. It’s a great mountain. It’s a great neighborhood. Everything is perfect. I have no complaints. It’s everything I ever wanted. I’m happy. Content. But is there any chance I could visit the other mountain? What was it called again?”

“Yes, sure,” St. Peter says in response. “I was wondering when you were going to ask. Everyone always asks eventually.”

“Oh,” we sort of mutter.

St. Peter continues, “Just flag down a Blue Bus from outside your house. They usually go by every 23 minutes. Take that bus down the mountain to the big parking lot you arrived at. And then take the Red Bus up to the Mount of the Beatitudes. No problem.”

“Mount of the Beatitudes? Never heard of it,” we say?

“You’ll see,” Saint Peter replies.

Sure enough we spot a Blue Bus going by and we flag it down. And we see some other folks on the bus and we begin talking with them. They too said they were wondering what this other mountain was. They too called Saint Peter. They too said, “What’s this Mount of the Beatitudes?”

The bus driver was St. John Neumann and we say, “I know a church named after you.”

He says, “Great!”

He drives us down to the big parking lot and the tiny booth. He smiles while listening to all the conversations. While going down we see three buses filled with folks going up to the Mountain of the Ten Commandments.

When we get to the booth, it isn’t Saint Peter in the booth reading the paper – but someone who looks like him.

A man gets out and says to everyone, “My name is Andrew. My brother Peter is usually here, but I’m taking his shift right now.”

And he adds, “I understand from Peter that all of you want to see the Mount of the Beatitudes. Just get on the Red Bus there.’”

And about 35 of us got on the Red Bus – which is marked, “Mount of the Beatitudes.”

The driver was Saint Mathew and he smiled as folks started to speculate what the Beatitudes were.

Someone said, “I know there are 8 of them, but I never memorized them.”

Someone else said, “We had them read out at our wedding and I’ve been at several weddings where that was the gospel, but I’m not sure why we picked them and really what some of them mean.”

Then there was a moment of silence because someone whispered, “They are in the gospel of Matthew and he’s our driver.”

And Mathew added with a great smile in his voice, “And guess what? 15 of you had the Beatitudes read at your funeral?”

Silence. That brought a long loud “Uh oh!” silence.

“Well,” someone finally had the courage to ask Matthew what they were. And he said, “They are 8 Blessings of Jesus that I gathered from my travels – when I trying to line up what Jesus taught. They are 8 attitudes – and if these become your attitudes, you’ll be at peace.”

“Oh,” the questioner said sheepishly.

Then Mathew said, “Okay, just around this curve, you’ll see the Mount of the Beatitudes.”
Once more we all became very quiet.

And Mathew gave us a bus tour of the Mount of Beatitudes.

Every home looked full. There were no “Vacancy” signs on the lawns.

And the homes didn’t look like much – in fact, some looked very tiny. There were no mansions over here.

Yet there were lots of folks walking the streets.

Some of us on the bus were wondering, “Why would anyone want to live over here?”

Yet as people kept looking out the bus window, we said to themselves, “Everyone has such a beautiful smile on their face. They seem to be enjoying heaven too.”

One person whispered very loudly, “How in the hell, OOPS, how in the heaven, could anyone enjoy this place compared to the Mount of the Ten Commandments?”

Well, nobody asked Matthew to stop. Nobody got off.

The Red Bus went back to the big parking lot and everyone headed for the Blue Bus to get back home to the Mountain of the Ten Commandments.

Surprise! From time to time all of us took the Blue Bus down to the parking lot and then the Red Bus to the Mount of the Beatitudes. Each time we went, we’d have new questions.

And slowly we got answers – because we could get off the Red Bus and walk around. Slowly we got to know the folks over there. Some were Christian. Some were Moslems. Some were Jews. Some were “nothing” - just as the folks on our side had been.

Then surprise, everyone discovered that most of the folks living on the Mount of the Beatitudes said they had lived on the Mount of the Ten Commandments when they first got to heaven. Then they moved over here.

That explained the ongoing, “Vacancy” signs on the Mountain of the Ten Commandments. We knew you can’t die in heaven.

People slowly moved to the other mountain – which was not much of a mountain. It was really only a big hill. Certainly it was not an impressive mountain like the Mountain of the Ten Commandments.

And people who moved over to the Mount of the Beatitudes discovered people who lived there, lived the Beatitudes in a deep, deep way.

And they discovered that some people had started living a few of the beatitudes while on earth. These were mainly the people who skipped the Blue Bus and took the Red Bus as soon as they arrived here.

These were folks who, when on earth were poor in spirit – not a degrading or dehumanizing poverty – but a poverty that gave them solidarity with all those who stuck on earth.

These were folks who, when on earth were there for others who had big losses or deep suffering.

These were folks who, when on earth were meek – and not filled with self importance.
These were folks who, when on earth, always hungered for what was right – and were willing to speak up and face the consequences.

These were folks who, when on earth, showed mercy and kindness to everyone.

These were folks who, when on earth, were clean of heart.

These were folks who, when on earth, were the peacemakers.

These were folks who, when on earth, were thought of as nuts and dreamers – and as a result they were insulted and falsely accused.

And on the many Red Bus rides around the Mount of the Beatitudes, people loved it when they got Saint Matthew as the driver. Someone said to him, “Well it takes time to grow in wisdom, age and grace – even in heaven.” And Mathew said, “Good line. But Luke used it first.”

Slowly, everyone grows in wisdom, age and grace.

Slowly, everyone moves to the Mount of the Beatitudes.

Slowly, we realized what purgatory and heaven are.


[P.S. This reflection leaves me a bit quesy and uneasy - because it leaves out so much - like meeting God in the Resurrection - as well as our family - while at the same time it continues my wonderings about life after death. - that I touched upon in recent sermons. I have a sermon somewhere that uses the refrain from St. Paul, "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, what things God has prepared for those who love Him." (Cf. 1 Corinthians 2:9; Isaiah 64:4.)]

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