O, Captain

Fostering the virtue of obedience

 Matthew 21:33-43

         

Jesus said to the chief priests and the elders of the people: "Hear another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a hedge around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a tower.  Then he leased it to tenants and went on a journey. When vintage time drew near, he sent his servants to the tenants to obtain his produce.  But the tenants seized the servants and one they beat, another they killed, and a third they stoned.  Again he sent other servants, more numerous than the first ones, but they treated them in the same way.  Finally, he sent his son to them, thinking, 'They will respect my son.' But when the tenants saw the son, they said to one another, 'This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and acquire his inheritance.’ They seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him.  What will the owner of the vineyard do to those tenants when he comes?" They answered him, "He will put those wretched men to a wretched death and lease his vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the proper times."  Jesus said to them, "Did you never read in the Scriptures: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; by the Lord has this been done, and it is wonderful in our eyes? Therefore, I say to you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit."

            In high school, I was a proud member of the Marine Corps JROTC program.  One spring we took an orientation trip to Parris Island, South Carolina, the infamous Marine Corps bootcamp.  We arrived a little before midnight, a bus full of drowsy young men.  I’ll never forget that traumatic night.  Our high school instructor, a retired Lieutenant Colonel, greeted the two Marine drill sergeants at the gate and told them to treat us as if we were new recruits.  Before the first drill sergeant ever stepped foot on the bus, he was screaming at the top of his voice, barking commands, and all of us bolted to attention.  He came marching down the center aisle of the bus spitting and spewing orders in some completely unintelligible language, occasionally, stopping to shout in some poor cadet’s face.  I remember thinking: “You know, I’d be so happy to do whatever you want me to, if I could just figure out what you are trying to say!!”  When we arrived at the barracks, he barked orders saying we had to be off his bus in 15 seconds.  Well, that’s impossible, so some men climbed out windows of the bus.  When we didn’t get everything into our footlockers in 10 seconds, everyone had to empty it out and start over again.  About halfway through the week, though, our drill sergeant relaxed a little and one of the cadets had to courage to ask him, “Why are you yelling at us?”  He answered, “I have to take 60 men who don’t care about one another, and in 3 months make them ready to take a bullet for the man next to them.  I don’t have a second to lose.”  In other words, he had to teach them “obedience,” a readiness to follow an order without hesitation.  You see, every Marine learns that obedience is a virtue, a good and noble quality, and Parris Island is a Marine’s “obedience school.”

            Jesus tells a parable today, where the people’s problem is obedience, or rather, it’s a lack of obedience.  An owner of a vineyard hires tenants to care for his vineyard.  When the owner sends emissaries to check on the progress, the tenants kill them.  Finally, the owner sends his son, who meets with the same fate.  The owner should have sent in the Marines!  But why send in the Marines?  Because the Marines know how to follow orders.  The tenants, on the other hand, were self-willed, seeking their own gain, for whom obedience was a vice, not a virtue, a liability, not an asset.  Therefore, Jesus concludes, “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit,” that is, to a people who will obey God’s commands, who will do what he tells them.  Those tenants needed 3 months at the Parris Island obedience school.

Someone who never tolerated disobedience was Fr. George Tribou, the late principal of Catholic High School in Little Rock.  I’ll never forget Fr. Tribou’s definition of a man.  He said: a man is he who controls the animal within which he lives.  Let me repeat that: a man is he who controls the animal within which he lives.  Obedience tames that animal.  Here are some funny examples.  One time a student had the habit of slamming doors whenever he entered or exited a room.  The teachers were at a loss how to stop him, so they sent him to Fr. Tribou.  Fr. Tribou looked at the boy and said, “So, you like doors?”  His punishment was to carry one of those classroom doors under his arm everywhere he went in school for a week.  Once, when Fr. Tribou caught two boys fighting, their punishment was to sit together during the entire lunch period at a table by themselves.  And they had to hold hands!  You see, Fr. Tribou wasn’t really shaming these boys, nor was he being too hard on them.  He knew that we live in a culture that exults the ego, unbridled freedom, and self-expression even to the detriment of your neighbor, leaving no room for obedience.  So, Catholic High was our obedience school.

My friends, whom do you obey: someone else or yourself?  I’l never forget the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley.  Here are a few powerful lines:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

Instead of being our own captain, may I suggest we obey Jesus as our Captain, and the Church he established to guide us?  Instead of being a “law unto ourselves,” and giving ourselves excuses to miss Mass on Sunday, or to get drunk, or to be promiscuous, or lie and cheat, or whatever other forms of disobedience to God’s laws, instead, learn to be obedient to Jesus as your Captain.  You know, when you think about it, isn’t one hour of Mass every Sunday kind of like our own “Catholic obedience school”?  Just look at how we behave at Mass: we’re like Marines in formation, we act in unison – standing or kneeling together – like Marines marching in formation; we speak with one voice – saying the Creed and the Our Father – like Marines answering a drill instructor, “Sir, yes, Sir!”  And we sing together – some of us even on key, like Marines singing as they do P.T.!  You see, the point of the Mass is not mindless repetition, just going through the motions.  But rather, it is training our bodies and disciplining our wills, so that like that drill sergeant said, “one day we won’t hesitate to lay down our lives for the person next to us.”

            In the Army of the Lord, like in any good army, there can only be one Captain, and all others are privates.  Which one are you?

            Praised be Jesus Christ!