Fr Antonio Pineda
braham and Paul leave their comfort zones in this Sunday’s first and second readings respectively. Can we do the same? Listening to Jesus is not always comfortable.
Abraham was living happily and prosperously in the fertile land of Mesopotamia, when God invited him to leave behind his extended family, his business, his homeland, his security, his financial stability, his friends — everything, in fact. And God didn’t even tell him where he was going. He just said, “Go to a land I will show you.” But God had a plan for his life, a plan that would bring blessings to Abraham himself, and also bring blessings to others through him. Abraham listened. He stepped out of his comfort zone and put his trust in God. We can only imagine the turbulence it caused at first between him and his wife, and how awkward he must have felt trying to explain his decision to friends and colleagues.
St Paul had a similar experience. He was on the fast track to success in the Jewish establishment when Jesus appeared to him on the road to Damascus and invited him to take a different path. And it was not an easy path. That’s why he writes to Timothy in the Second Reading, “Bear the hardships for the sake of the Good News, relying on the power of God who has saved us and called us to be holy.” Paul’s share of hardship included multiple shipwrecks, imprisonments, calumnies, beatings, whippings, and, finally, martyrdom by having his head cut off.
Listening to Jesus, hearing and heeding his call, means accepting our share of hardship for the gospel. But it’s well worth it. Otherwise, why would God have told us to do it? Let’s say yes despite our fears.
God is always calling to our hearts, inviting us to follow him more closely. Maybe he is asking some of us to come to him in the sacrament of confession, so that he can help us break down a debilitating, sinful habit that’s holding back our spiritual maturity. Maybe he is asking us to reconcile with a friend or family member we haven’t spoken to in years — to forgive someone who doesn’t really deserve to be forgiven. Maybe he is asking us to start living more for others and less for ourselves. He may even be calling some of us to leave everything behind and follow him in the priesthood or the consecrated life, walking in the footsteps of Abraham and St Paul.
When we hear God’s voice inviting us to make a change, we are almost always torn: one part of us wants to say yes, but another part of us is fearful. The closeness of God, even his voice in our hearts, is awe-inspiring, and, like Peter, James, and John in the Gospel this Sunday, when we hear it, we can be “very much afraid.” But Jesus is well aware of this. When his disciples were face down on the mountaintop, trembling with fear, Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Stand up, and do not be afraid.”
At Mass this Sunday, he will do the same thing for us. He will come to us in the Holy Eucharist, and touch us — really, truly — and say to our hearts: “Stand up, and do not be afraid.” When he does, let’s say to him in response: “Okay, Lord. I believe in you. I want to listen to you. Thy will be done, Lord, thy Kingdom come.”