11th Sunday 2024
Ezekiel 17:22-24; 2 Cor 5:6-10; Mark 4:26-34
I have known a number of great men and great women in my time. When I say “great”, I don’t mean “famous”: I mean possessed of integrity, goodness, inner strength. Some have been laypeople, some have been religious sisters, not a few have been priests.
Among that third group, I would count Mgr. Lawrence McCreavy, professor of moral theology and Canon Law at Ushaw, the Northern seminary, now sadly closed. It wasn’t for the quality of his teaching that I rate Bomber, as he was known—that was by no means of the highest rank, and belonged to a different epoch—but for his personal qualities. He was a man of deep prayer: whatever time I arrived in chapel to pray before Mass, I could be certain that Bomber, along with several other members of staff, would be there before me.
He was aware of his own shortcomings: he would admit, publicly and humorously to his short fuses, commenting in a homily on the feast of St Jerome, that “it is good to know that irascibility and sanctity are not incompatible”, and his homilies were always directed, first and foremost, at himself. He took a personal interest in every student both present and past: On a return visit to Ushaw, I received a thump on the back which almost drove me through the wall, as a prelude to a fusillade of questions from Bomber as to my progress and wellbeing.
One incident which stands out in my mind is a reunion at which Mgr. McCreavy was heartily applauded on attaining his 80th birthday. His response came with typically self-deprecating humour: “I don’t see why one should be congratulated on longevity. It has nothing to do with us, and if we are created for the beatific vision, why should we rejoice because it is being delayed?”
In that, he was echoing St. Paul, whom we have heard declaring “We are full of confidence, I say, and actually want to be exiled from the body and make our home with the Lord”. Those of a certain vintage will recall the catechism question and answer “Why did God make you?” “God made me to know Him, love Him, and serve Him in this life, and to be happy with Him forever in the next.” It is easy to forget, yet important to remember, that we were created, not for this life only, but for eternity.
The story, probably apocryphal, is told of a conversation between the Heads of a public school and of a Catholic school. “We prepare our pupils for life” declared the former, to which the other replied “And we prepare ours for death”. A facile response, and almost certainly invented, and yet it contains a grain of truth. We ARE preparing for death, and for what lies beyond, which depends, as St. Paul reminds us, on how we have lived our lives, on whether or not we have responded to God’s call to us and his purpose for us.
Have our lives been selfish and self-interested, or have we attempted to fulfil God’s command to love Him above all things and our neighbour as ourself? Incidentally, that question should influence our vote in the impending General Election. It is tragic that so many politicians are appealing to our self-interest, and beyond that to a rather narrow, nasty, and exclusive nationalism. Are we, as citizens of God’s Kingdom, capable of rising above that to seek the values of that Kingdom? Do we live each day as if it is to be our last? One of them will be, and how will we stand before the face of God?
It is clear that a response and an effort is required from us, yet today’s First Reading and Gospel remind us that the initiative is God’s. He it is who “stunts tall trees and makes the low grow”; He who is going to “plant the cedar on the mountain of Israel”—perhaps a reference to the sending of the Messiah—to provide fruit and shelter, as it is He who enables the mustard seed to grow beyond all imagining.
Returning to the topic of the seminary, I recall a retreat led by Fr. Simon Tugwell OP in Lent 1974. One of his themes was that we should take time off from being God, and allow God to be God. Both the crops of Jesus’ first parable and the mustard seed of His second require an initial sowing, but then they should be left alone until they grow. If the farmer were to keep digging and poking, examining them for signs of progress, he would kill them; and we sometimes interfere with God’s work by our own prodding and poking.
As some people are aware, I am not an enthusiast for programmes and projects, of which the Church, both nationally and locally, has endured more than can be shaken at by the proverbial stick. “A time for building”, “The Church 2000”, the National Pastoral Congress, “Renew” in some dioceses, “New start with Jesus” and “Fit for Mission” (better known as “Brave New Start” and “Fit to Drop”) in our own have come and gone: all attempts to do God’s work for Him.
Can we not leave it to God to provide the initiative? He is better at it than we are, and has had more practice. Meanwhile, we can concentrate on responding to His call, striving to achieve that love of God and neighbour which He has commanded, and remembering that we live each day in the light of eternity, doing our job, and allowing God to do His.
