The Kingdom of God and High-school Nightmares

This Past Sunday's Readings were from Is 25:6-10a; Ps 23:1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6; Phil 4:12-14, 19-20; Mt 22:1-14 or 22:1-10

I have yet to encounter anyone who hasn't, at some time or other, been plagued by the nightmare of showing up at school clad in nothing but their underwear. (Or at least some permutation of that dream) I had these dreams for years in one form or another, and what I find striking about them in retrospect, particularly the nightmares I would have about school, is that they never had anything to do with being unable to do schoolwork. I never dreamt about not knowing how to spell a word, do a math problem, or botching a report in front of the class. Instead, the nightmare always entailed doing something right, achieving some little success, only to turn to my classmates and find that "mysteriously" there was nothing between me and their penetrating stares except some Fruit of the Loom. Usually, it was at this point in the dream, as all my classmates started pointing and laughing, that I would remember I had indeed neglected to put on all of my clothes before leaving the house that morning. These kinds of dreams express something critical about the real world: true preparedness has more to do with the context of a job than with the task at hand itself.

This is what I see as the thrust of this Sunday's readings. What we see in the gospel today, for instance, is that there really is no moral pre-condition for an invitation to the wedding feast. The king's men go out and bring in everybody—the good, the bad, and most assuredly, the ugly. At the wedding feast of the king's son, it is the future of the realm that is at stake. It makes sense, then, that the current state of the guests invited is of less importance than their potential—whether or not they are prepared to enter into the celebration properly. Out of the entire motley crew the servants gather in, only one has utterly missed the point and, with no excuse, has neglected to wear the proper attire. This one's failure is not any different than the failure of all those who previously rejected the king's invitation and killed his messengers. The gospel says, "Some ignored the invitation and went away, one to his farm, another to his business." We see in these poor people the tragedy of getting so entangled in the web of one's everyday affairs that the ultimate purpose of all work—the kingdom—gets forgotten.

Now, the paradise Isaiah describes for us today is nothing else than the ultimate fulfillment of God's grand design of salvation. This, is the end for which we are all destined. All of our undertakings, all of our concerns, our struggles, trials, and successes are means to that final end at best and distractions from it at worst.

Here at Mundelein, we are like that motley crew gathered in by the king's servants. We come here, from all walks of life, from all situations and backgrounds. Not one of us is here because he was "worthy" as his vocation director found him but because he showed some promise of becoming so. The challenge at hand, then, is whether or not we are properly open to be formed here at seminary. At the core of what we do here we find theology, prayer, pastoral work, and the like. But just as it is totally inappropriate for one to do arithmetic, spelling, or whatever, in grammar school dressed in his underwear can we undertake our responsibilities here without the faith that our ultimate destination is to be servants at the eternal wedding feast. This is the context of our work. This faith, this knowledge, this hope, is our garment of preparedness.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory Forever!

~J