Why Good Friday

Becoming willing instruments in the eternal symphony

03/30/2018

John 19:4-11 Once more Pilate went out and said to them, “Look, I am bringing him out to you, so that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple cloak. And he said to them, “Behold, the man!” When the chief priests and the guards saw him they cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him. I find no guilt in him.” The Jews answered, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.” Now when Pilate heard this statement, he became even more afraid, and went back into the praetorium and said to Jesus, “Where are you from?” Jesus did not answer him. So Pilate said to him, “Do you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you and I have power to crucify you?” Jesus answered him, “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above. For this reason the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.”

Are you familiar with the story of St. Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was murdered in his own cathedral in 1170? I’ve been reading a short book about him by T. S. Eliot called Murder in the Cathedral. But if you like to learn about the saints on the silver screen, you can watch the 1964 movie version of Becket’s life starring Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole, simply called “Becket.” Thomas Becket grew up as a friend of King Henry II of England, who even made Becket Chancellor of England because they were so close. But when Becket became the archbishop he chose God over king, the cross over the crown, and a deep rift developed between them. King Henry wanted Becket (and the Church) to accept his royal authority, while Becket insisted that King Henry should acknowledge the Church’s divine authority and bow to the pope. Finally, on December 29, 1170, four knights barged into the Canterbury Cathedral, and while the archbishop and the monks were chanting vespers, they brutally killed Becket as the unarmed priests beheld in dismay their bishop dying.

Four days earlier, on December 25, Thomas Becket preached the Christmas homily where he foretold prophetically: “A Christian martyrdom is never an accident, for Saints are not made by accident. Still less is a Christian martyrdom the effect of man’s will to become a Saint, as a man by willing and contriving may become a ruler of men.” Becket continued: “A martyrdom is always the design of God, for His love of men, to warn them and to lead them, to bring them back to His ways. It is never the design of man; for the true martyr is he who has become the instrument of God, who has lost his will in the will of God, and who no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of being a martyr” (Murder in the Cathedral, 49). In other words, a martyr is like a musical instrument upon which the divine Musician (God) plays the notes of love, mercy, holiness and grace. A martyr knows he or she is in God’s hands, more than in the hands of their executioners.

In the narrative gospel of Good Friday, we see Jesus with the same serene composure and confidence as St. Thomas Becket. He knows he is in the Father’s hands. My favorite exchange in the passion account is where Pilate and Jesus face off about power (not unlike Archbishop Becket and King Henry argued over authority). Pilate asserts arrogantly: “Do you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you and I have power to crucify you?” To which Jesus calmly answers: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above.” Jesus knew without doubt or difficulty he was an instrument in God’s hands, and he actually tried to help Pontius Pilate realize that Pilate was too. Jesus, like Becket, tried to help earthly rulers realize that all authority and power comes from God. We are all musical instruments in God’s hand, and when we allow him to have power over us, when we become obedient to his will, we become a powerful instrument in the eternal symphony.

My friends, you do not need to become a martyr to be a musical instrument in God’s hands. We can all play a note of grace and goodness, joy and peace in the eternal symphony. Whoever you are: mothers and fathers, priests and people, husbands and wives, presidents and populace, kings and commoners, young and old, Americans and Russians, cowboys and Indians, millionaires and the homeless, Hispanics and Anglos, citizens and immigrants, all have a part to play. And how do we play our notes well?  We do as Becket and Jesus did: we become someone “who has become an instrument of God, who has lost his will in the will of God, and no longer desires anything for himself.” In other words, it is a matter of power, and whether we allow God to have power over us. That is what makes Good Friday so “good.” For the first time in the sad saga of human history, Someone finally played their part in the eternal symphony perfectly. Jesus did not miss one note.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Lent Is Over

Bringing our spiritual best for the Easter Triduum and beyond

03/29/2018

John 13:1-15 Before the feast of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father. He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end. The devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over. So, during supper, fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power and that he had come from God and was returning to God, he rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and dry them with the towel around his waist.

Let me answer the burning question on everyone’s mind tonight: is Lent over now? And more importantly, can I go back to eating chocolate or watching my favorite television show or back to surfing social media or enjoying a steak on Friday evening? Well, you will be very relieved to know that Lent officially ends on Holy Thursday. Our forty days of fast, abstinence and sacrifice is over and done! Woohoo!

But before you get too excited, consider this: There are two ways something can be over and completed. The first way is when something ends and you go back to how things were before you started. When a vacation is over, you return home and resume life where you left off. You return to laundry and dishes and mowing the yard. The second way is when something finishes but it opens up a whole new world from which you never return. For example, for sixty-four college basketball teams the regular season ended, but the playoffs commenced. The end of the regular season did not signal less basketball but more intense basketball. Similarly, even though Lent ends on Holy Thursday, what ensues in the following days is not less Lent, but more intense Lent. Folks, we are entering into the spiritual equivalent of the playoffs and it is no time to take it easy or relax our Lenten practices and penances. The end of Lent signals the time to bring our spiritual best.

At the Last Supper, on that original Holy Thursday, Jesus brought his spiritual best, and spiritually-speaking the best is always humility. Our Lord instituted the two great sacraments of the Eucharist and the Priesthood. And how did he punctuate the power and the purpose of these two great sacraments? We read in the gospel of John: “So, during supper, fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power and that he had come from God and was returning to God, he rose from supper and took off his outer garments…Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples feet…” In other words, the power of the priesthood and the efficacy of the Eucharist only reach their zenith when you are humble. Only the humble get the most grace out of the priesthood and the Eucharist.

By the way, that’s what his gesture of removing his “outer garments” meant. Jesus was divesting himself of prestige, of earthly trappings, even of his divine dignity. We are never more humble (or vulnerable) than when we are naked and take off the clothes that make us look better than we are. Small children who run around the house without any clothes on are the epitome of humility: their egos have nothing to hide. Romano Guardini, who inspired both Pope Benedict and Pope Francis, said: “What is the decisive characteristic of the Christian message of salvation? It is expressed in a word which in the course of the modern age has lost its meaning: humility” (The End of the Modern World, 141). In other words, at the spiritual core of Christianity hides the virtue of humility. The spiritual playoffs had arrived for Jesus and he brought his spiritual best, namely, humility.  That’s why the devil didn’t stand a chance.

My friends, Lent is over, but not in the sense that we can go back to business as usual, like things were before Lent. We cannot return to our excesses and our sins and certainly not to our pride. We must bring our spiritual best because the playoffs have begun, and they will never end. And there is no talent that will serve us better in this spiritual contest than humility. The humble always vanquish the Evil One. For a Christian who has embraced humility, a whole new world has dawned, and there is no going back to our life before Lent. Only in that sense can we say that Lent is over. Yay.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

People’s Opinions

Finding our peace and confidence in what God thinks of us

03/28/2018

Matthew 26:14-25 One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, "What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver, and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over. When it was evening, he reclined at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, "Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me." Deeply distressed at this, they began to say to him one after another, "Surely it is not I, Lord?" He said in reply, "He who has dipped his hand into the dish with me is the one who will betray me. The Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born." Then Judas, his betrayer, said in reply, "Surely it is not I, Rabbi?" He answered, "You have said so."

Today I want to teach you a little trick to lead a more tranquil and untroubled life. Nothing causes us more anxiety, heartburn and lost sleep than worrying about what other people say and do. Someone in the seminary taught me how to overcome that worry. My first day at Mt. St. Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland, I ran into a fellow who had started his fourth and final year of seminary school. We met in the hallway for a moment, and trying to make a little small talk, I said, “So, I hear this is a really great seminary.” He stared at me steadily for a second, and replied cryptically: “You know, that statement tells me a lot more about you than it does this seminary.” I kind of half-laughed thinking he was joking, and walked off. I thought to myself, “Weirdo!”

But I’ve often thought about his simple statement many times; our opinions only reveal what we think, not what the world is really like. Now, for instance, if someone says to me: “Fr. John, you are the greatest priest in the world!” I smile and think to myself: “That statement tells me a lot more about your than what kind of priest I am.” And I don’t get a big head. On the other hand, if someone complains: “Fr. John, you are the worst priest in the world!” I smile again because they have only told me something about them and nothing about me, and I don’t start crying over it. When Coach Meares praises the North Carolina Tar Heels as the greatest basketball team in college history, does that mean they really are? Or, does it mean Coach Meares has poor taste in basketball teams? But notice what I just did with that last statement suggesting he has poor taste: I said more about me than about him. If you want to lead a more tranquil and untroubled life learn this little trick about people’s opinions

Jesus employs this trick in the gospel today, and he is able to keep his peace of mind when he’s about to be betrayed. Judas agrees to sell Jesus to the Jewish authorities for thirty pieces of silver (equivalent today to about $200). But was that really the value of Jesus’ life? Not at all; Jesus life is priceless. In reality, it was the value of Judas’ soul.  Judas wasn’t selling Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, he was selling his own soul by betraying our Lord. Thirty pieces of silver was the price for Judas, not for Jesus. What we say or do says a lot more about us than it does the reality around us: that thirty pieces of silver said more about Judas than Jesus. At the Last Supper, Jesus says one of his apostles would betray him. Judas incredulously asks: “Surely it is not I, Rabbi?” And Jesus replies (like my friend in the seminary): “You have said so.” In other words, your answer says more about you than you think. Jesus did not let what others said or did – not even what Judas said or did – bother him. His peace came from knowing God loved him.

Boys and girls, do other people’s comments or behavior cause you grief, heartburn or to lose sleep? Sometimes someone’s snarky comment on social media makes you feel angry and want to take revenge, so you post some equally mean comment back. But did you really say something about them, or did you really say something about yourself? I hear where you sit at lunch can cause some anxiety: whether you sit with a certain group or not. What others do, even where people sit at lunch, says more about them than about you. I hear some people say, “Trinity Junior High is a rich kids’ school!” And sometimes I hear people say: “Trinity Junior High is a poor kids’ school!” I just smile because their comments don’t say anything about Trinity, but only reveal their own opinions, which are often wide of the mark.

If we take what other people say or do too seriously, we feel we are on a roller-coaster ride: we feel great one minute because someone said something nice about us, and we grow angry or depressed the next minute because someone said something mean about us. Roller-coasters are fun for a few minutes, but that’s not a happy way to live your whole life. May I suggest you get off the roller-coaster of people’s opinions and stand on the solid ground of God’s love? Try to remember what my friend said to me in the seminary: Your opinion only says something about you, and nothing about me. And you will lead a more tranquil and untroubled life.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Morbid Curiosity

Letting Jesus be the master of life and death

03/26/2018

John 12:1-11 Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him.  Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples, and the one who would betray him, said, "Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days' wages and given to the poor?" He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions. So Jesus said, "Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." The large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came, not only because of him, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too, because many of the Jews were turning away and believing in Jesus because of him.

I would argue one of the most fascinating figures in the New Testament has to be Lazarus of Bethany. First let me say three things about his extraordinary life and death, and then draw a couple of practical conclusions for us today.

First of all, Lazarus was not the only dead person Jesus brought back to life (there were two others), but he was the “most dead person.” The first miraculous healing was Jairus’ twelve year-old daughter who had just died (Luke 8:40-56). She was still in her bedroom, on her deathbed, where she had expired. Another instance was when Jesus was entering the town of Nain in Luke 7:11-17. This young man had been dead a little longer because they were carrying him out for burial. And by contrast, Lazarus has been dead for four days, he was wrapped in burial cloths, and his sister, Martha, observes alarmed there will be a stench if Jesus raises him from the dead. (Sisters always worry about how their brothers smell). A skeptic might argue that in the first two cases the individuals might not have been completely dead – maybe in a coma – but that was impossible to suggest with Lazarus. He was definitely dead.

Secondly, where did Lazarus’ soul go for four days? I do not think it is possible he went to heaven. Why? Jesus had not risen from the dead and his resurrection was the key that unlocked the gates of paradise. Lazarus, therefore, could only go to one of two places after death: either Sheol (the abode of the dead, what we would call purgatory), or to Hades, which is hell properly-speaking. All the Old Testament greats – Abraham, Moses, David, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Deborah, Ruth, etc. – remained in Sheol waiting for Jesus to open the doors of heaven, like we wait for Ed to open the church doors every morning. Most likely, therefore, Sheol-purgatory was were Lazarus spent those four days.

And thirdly, and this may explain why Jesus did not raise more people from the grave, each of these three people would have to die again. The exact moment of death is a mystery because it is when the soul separates from the body and no one knows that precise moment. It is a spiritual event. Modern medical science can study the symptoms of death – loss of brain function, ceasing of heart beat, etc. – but science cannot tell you when someone dies; it can only approximate that spiritual event. But Lazarus, Jairus’ daughter, and the widow of Nain’s son all had to endure that spiritual event called death twice (not just once), and I do not think it was very enjoyable. Maybe that is why Jesus does not raise people from the dead more frequently in the gospels: he knows what they must endure.

My friends, modern Americans suffer from a morbid curiosity about death these days that I am not sure is a very Christian curiosity. We are fascinated with death; maybe bordering on obsession. Could this by why we have so many movies about zombies and popular television shows like “The Walking Dead”? Bookstore shelves are lined with stories of near-death experiences and what people saw after dying. The rising popularity of euthanasia – so-called mercy killing – is a desire to become master of the moment of death. We will leave this world on our terms, when we decide, and make the Grim Reaper make an appointment on our calendar. But I do not believe any of these attitudes offer us a very faith-filled outlook on our final exit from this life to the next.

Rather, I suggest we look to Lazarus for an example of faith and trust in God’s love over our life and our death. We are not the master of our own life. We did not get to choose how and when we entered this world (when our soul infused our body) and we should not demand authority to choose how and when we will leave this world (when our soul leaves our body). We cannot utter the final word about our own life and death, only Jesus can. And in the case of Jairus’ daughter, the widow of Nain’s son and his close friend, Lazarus of Bethany, Jesus may say with a shudder, “You must die twice.” The shortest sentence in the Scripture is John 11:35, where we read “Jesus wept” before raising Lazarus from the dead. Maybe that is why he wept.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Cat and Mouse

Playing hide and seek with everyone except God

03/24/2018

John 11:45-56  So the chief priests and the Pharisees convened the Sanhedrin and said, "What are we going to do?  This man is performing many signs. If we leave him alone, all will believe in him, and the Romans will come and take away both our land and our nation." But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, "You know nothing, nor do you consider that it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people, so that the whole nation may not perish." He did not say this on his own, but since he was high priest for that year, he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation, and not only for the nation, but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God. So from that day on they planned to kill him. So Jesus no longer walked about in public among the Jews, but he left for the region near the desert, to a town called Ephraim, and there he remained with his disciples. Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before Passover to purify themselves. They looked for Jesus and said to one another as they were in the temple area, "What do you think? That he will not come to the feast?"

All small children love to play the game called “cat and mouse.” One person tries to hide and the other person tries to find and catch them. In fact, last Sunday I played cat and mouse with 2-year-old Reed Dubina (Preston Dubina’s son). I would hide behind Preston and Reed would run around his father and try to spot me and catch me. What makes this game so easy and fun is that children think that if they cannot see you, you have somehow magically disappeared. “Out of sight, out of mind.” Some children even think that they can hide from their parents simply by closing their eyes. If I cannot see you, you must not be there. There are probably a few adults you wish you could play that game with: I close my eyes and you so-and-so disappears.

One of my favorite Psalms of the Old Testament is Psalm 139. The Psalmist insists we cannot play “cat and mouse” with God, which, by the way, happens to be a good thing. The psalmist sings: “Where can I go from your spirit? / From your presence, where can I flee? / If I ascend to the heavens, you are there; / if I lie down in Sheol, there you are. / If I take the wings of dawn / and dwell beyond the sea; / Even there your hand guides me, / your right hand holds me fast” (Psalm 139:7-10). The psalmist forgot to mention the child’s trick of closing his or her eyes to make another person disappear, but clearly that will not work on God either.

Jesus plays a little cat and mouse with the Pharisees in the gospel today. Caiaphas declares it is better for one man to die rather than the whole nation be exterminated. We read how Jesus reacts: “So, Jesus no longer walked about in public among the Jews, but he left for the region near the desert, to a town called Ephraim, and there he remained with his disciples.” Like I tried to hide behind Preston Dubina so little Reed would not see or find me, so Jesus hides in Ephraim, out of the sight of the Jewish authorities. But Jesus was also very familiar with Psalm 139 (maybe his favorite psalm?), and he knew he would never be outside the loving reach of his Father’s loving right hand. Jesus would never lose sight of his Father, even when he closed his eyes and died on the Cross. Even though God was out of Jesus’ sight, the Father was not out of his mind.

My friends, it is okay to play cat and mouse with small children and sometimes even with adults, but be very careful you not try to play that game with God. But we do try. Unfortunately, our whole country seems to want to shut our collective eyes against God and pretend he does not exist. If we remove his presence from the public square, we childishly think, maybe God will disappear all together. Doesn’t this sum up the silliness of modern atheism Nietzsche, Comte and Fruerbach: let us close our philosophical eyes and maybe God will magically disappear. We can also be tempted to exclude God from areas of our personal life. We try to hide our sexuality from God, or our prejudices about minorities or immigrants from God, or we conceal our political views from God’s sight, or we think we can go on vacation or spend our money and those things are none of God’s business. But we really cannot hide any of these things from God’s loving gave, not even the deepest secrets of our hearts. If we were a little wiser, like Jesus, we wouldn’t want to hide anything from him.

I was moved to tears by Bishop Robert Barron’s description of the word “adoration,” like when we sit in Adoration before the Blessed Sacrament. It sums up what I am trying to say about not playing cat and mouse with God. Bishop Barron wrote: “The term ‘adoration’ comes from the Latin ‘adoratio,’ which in turn is derived from ‘ad ora” (to the mouth). To adore, therefore, is to be mouth to mouth with God, properly aligned to the divine source, breathing in God’s life.” Bishop Barron continues: “When one is in the stance of adoration, the whole of one’s life – mind, will, emotion, imagination, sexuality – becomes ordered and harmonized, much as the elements of a rose window arrange themselves musically around a central point” (Catholicism, 21). In other words, not only do we not want to close our eyes to God; we do not even want to close our mouth to him.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

A Mile Wide

Fostering time alone with Jesus who loves us

03/23/2018

Jermiah 20:10-13 I hear the whisperings of many: "Terror on every side! Denounce! let us denounce him!" All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine. "Perhaps he will be trapped; then we can prevail, and take our vengeance on him." But the LORD is with me, like a mighty champion: my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph. In their failure they will be put to utter shame, to lasting, unforgettable confusion. O LORD of hosts, you who test the just, who probe mind and heart, Let me witness the vengeance you take on them, for to you I have entrusted my cause. Sing to the LORD, praise the LORD, For he has rescued the life of the poor from the power of the wicked!

We live in a world of increasing inter-connectedness. It seems we are virtually never alone. This is especially true for people like me who are tied to their smart phones. We are connected to our family no matter where they live, even on the other side of the world. I love to text back and forth with my cousin Raju in New Delhi, but I often forget he is 11 hours ahead of me. When I send a text to him on Sunday at 6 p.m., he is receiving it on Monday morning at 5 a.m. (He loves it when I do that.) We are immediately connected to tragedies like school shootings or natural disasters, and we weep as we watch them unfold. I know if there are bears or bulls roaming through the stock market minute by minute. The slip of the tongue of a politician is broadcast not only all over the world, but into each person’s pocket. It feels like we know what is happening to everyone everywhere in the world at every moment.

But ironically, people also feel incredibly alone. In a sense, when we are connected to everyone, we can feel like we are not really connected to anyone. Increasingly rare are conversations that last more than a few moments because they happen over texts; it feels like a privilege to talk to someone on the phone. Teenagers experience this isolation and try to get attention by cutting on their bodies. They think that maybe then someone will stop and talk to them and give them undivided time and attention. I worry especially about widows and widowers who have lost their life partner, with whom they shared everything. They are now thrown into a world in which people share very little but share it with everyone. Our relationships have become “a mile wide but an inch deep.”

The Old Testament prophet Jeremiah was very familiar with feeling alone but he also knew where to turn for comfort, namely, to God. He writes: “All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine…But the LORD is with me, like a mighty champion: my persecutors will stumble, they will not triumph.” Notice Jeremiah is talking about his friends who have turned on him. Jeremiah could not blame his smart phone for feeling isolated from others, but he became acutely aware that he was becoming increasingly alone in his journey as a prophet. In that isolation, Jeremiah turned to the Lord. Jeremiah’s relationships with his friends might have felt “a mile wide and an inch deep,” but his relationship with God felt “an inch wide but a mile deep.” In his suffering and isolation, Jeremiah found quality time for God, giving him his full and undivided attention.

My friends, may I suggest that you not wait till suffering strikes to spend quality time with the Lord? That is, do not let your relationship with God continue to be “a mile wide and an inch deep” like so many of our other relationships these days. St. Teresa of Avila, the great Carmelite mystic, taught that prayer was the best way to spend quality time with God. She wrote in her autobiography: “For mental prayer in my opinion is nothing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with him who we know loves us” (The Life of St. Teresa of Avila, 8.5). When you pray try to turn your smart phone completely off, rather than just turning it to “silent.” In your conversations with people allow time for silence, even if it feels a little awkward. That is called “a pregnant pause” because it can give birth to a beautiful friendship that may be an inch wide but a mile deep. Yesterday someone brought a couple of board-games to the office for the youth group. I said the teenagers would scoff at it, but the ladies in the office said their kids loved playing board games and it created really meaningful family time.

Sometimes the only way to be more connected to the people right in front of us (including God) is to be less connected to the rest of the world. That is the only way we will overcome our aching loneliness.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Love of Land

Learning to love our neighbor more than our land

03/22/2018

Genesis 17:3-9 When Abram prostrated himself, God spoke to him: "My covenant with you is this: you are to become the father of a host of nations. No longer shall you be called Abram; your name shall be Abraham, for I am making you the father of a host of nations. I will render you exceedingly fertile; I will make nations of you; kings shall stem from you. I will maintain my covenant with you and your descendants after you throughout the ages as an everlasting pact, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you. I will give to you and to your descendants after you the land in which you are now staying, the whole land of Canaan, as a permanent possession; and I will be their God." God also said to Abraham: "On your part, you and your descendants after you must keep my covenant throughout the ages."

I do not think you can call yourself a true “Southerner” without watching the classic movie “Gone with the Wind,” or at least reading the novel by the same name written by Margaret Mitchell in 1936. Let me warn you, though, it is not very politically correct in its depiction of slavery or African Americans. It would be surprising, actually, if it were since it was produced from the culture of the 1930’s and telling a story taking place in the Civil War South. The plot revolves around two themes: love and land. It begins with love for the land and ends with love being worth more than the land.

Scarlett O’Hara (the protagonist of the story) is taught by her Irish father to love the land. He gently scolds her: “Do you mean to tell me, Katie Scarlett O’Hara that Tara, that land doesn’t mean anything to you? Why, the land is the only thing in the world worth workin’ for, worth fightin’ for, worthy dyin’ for, because it’s the only thing that lasts.” And throughout the movie land certainly seems to last a lot longer than Scarlett’s love as her heart bounces back and forth between Ashley, Charles and Rhett Butler. But what happens by the end of the story? Scarlett leaves the land of Tara in pursuit of Rhett, whom she loves. The story of “Gone with the Wind” is really about how Scarlett learns to love people more than she loves the land. Sooner or later the land will be “gone with the wind.”

I would suggest to you that the story of the Scriptures can also be understood in terms of learning to love people more than the land, and ultimately about learning to love God above all. In Genesis 17, God makes a covenant with Abraham and God sounds a lot like Gerald O’Hara, Scarlett’s father. We read: “I will give to you and to your descendants after you the land in which you are now staying, the whole land of Canaan as a permanent possession.” The whole Old Testament revolves around love of the land, like Gerald O’Hara’s heart and the Old South revolved around love of the land. By the way, this is the reason why modern-day Israelis and Palestinians continue to argue and fight over the land of Israel. Like Scarlett O’Hara, they still have yet to love the people more than the land.

But Jesus explains the covenant was never really about the land, but about love. Jesus answers the Jewish leaders: “Abraham your father rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad.” In other words, Abraham understood the promise of land was only a down-payment on the real covenant, which would be the love between God and his people. Jesus was the literal embodiment of that love, and in that sense Abraham looked forward to the coming of Christ. But the Jews would not let go of the land, and they still try in vain to hold on to the land today.

Ask yourself today: are there things you love more than you love other people, and even more than you love God? Being Southerners, we can be a little too tied to the land, or even to our Southern culture. To love our past is great, as long as it does not prevent you from loving other people. Do we love our possessions more than other people? How tragic to see families torn apart by disputes over inheritances; as if we loved property more than our siblings. The same can be said for our native language: do we love our language more than people who speak another language? Instead of being inordinately attached to the land (or other material things), like Gerald O’Hara and the people of the Old Testament, see all earthly goods as a down-payment on the real blessing of love for neighbor and for God. The only land we should love is where the streets are paved with gold in heaven.

C. S. Lewis captured the essence of this struggle when he wrote: “You cannot take all luggage with you on all journeys; on one journey even your right hand and your right eye may be among the things you have to leave behind” (The Great Divorce). He was alluding to our final journey after death hopefully headed to heaven. And on that trip, we will not be able to pack any land, but we will be able to pack all our love.

Praised be Jesus Christ!