Fr. Frank Majka, SJ – The Bridge

Much Obliged!

When I was growing up, my Dad would say to someone who’d done him a favor or some service, “much obliged.” I haven’t heard that expression in a long time; a simple “thank you” appears to have replaced it. However, the two phrases are not exactly equivalent, for “thank you” conveys simple gratitude, while “much obliged” definitely carries the meaning of owing something in return.

If we do have an obligation to those who have done good to us, then we can discharge it by doing something good for them. But when it comes to repaying our debts of gratitude for the blessings and gifts we have received from God, how do we do that?

Of course a “thank you” to God is always appropriate, especially if it comes from the heart. But if we feel indebted to God, how can we pay that debt? One way, and one which Jesus recommended, is to use what we have from God to help and show love to others. Our faith tells us that the gifts we’ve been given are meant to be a blessing for them as well as for us.

So, being “much obliged” to God means being obliged to extend ourselves to others as a way to fulfill our obligation to God for all he has given us.

True Value

Someone told me yesterday that The Price Is Right is still going strong. It’s a TV game show that’s been around literally for decades. All a contestant needs to do is name the correct price for an item without going over the actual price. If they go over, or if their opponent’s guess is closer to the real price without going over, then their opponent wins and they lose. Contestants get a lot of help from the studio audience, who loudly shout out their own guesses, and everyone seems to have a great time, except, of course, for the losers.

It seems that as a culture we are pretty good at knowing how much things cost, and I’ve heard it said that Americans spend more time shopping than doing anything else. But someone also once said that, sadly, we can too easily fall into a trap of knowing the price of everything but the value of nothing.

St. Paul wrote to his congregation in Philippi (chapter 1) that he prayed that they would grow in their knowledge and appreciation of “what really matters,” and St. Ignatius Loyola used to badger his roommate at the University of Paris, Francis Xavier, by quoting Jesus’ question, “What does it profit a person to gain the whole world at the cost of one’s soul?” This isn’t a price question but one far more profound.

Sometimes we recognize the value of things like love or friendship. Sometimes we see the value of life when we see a sunrise or watch a child at play. At still other times, we may have felt the reassuring presence of a loving God who knows us by our names and loves us despite our shortcomings. At all these times and many others we know that the things that really matter carry no price tag but have a value beyond price and are ours for the taking.

The Stability of Our Times

Recently I ran across these words in the book of Isaiah: “He [God] will be the stability of your times” (Isaiah 33:6, NRSV). It’s good to remember this when violence, worry about the future, illness, unrest and fear of the unknown begin to trouble our spirits and upset the peace in our souls.

Of course we long for something dependable in life but know from our experience, though we’re often reluctant to admit it, that wealth, weapons, clever ideas and even good intentions don’t bring us lasting peace. That’s why we need to let Isaiah’s words sink in: “God will be the stability of your times.”

But can it really be that simple? Do we just need to trust that God will be a rock to hang onto when things get tough for us as individuals, families, churches or nations? So many voices in our culture tell us we should feel uneasy and afraid. Jesus once said, “Fear is useless; what is needed is faith” (Mark 5:31). Our culture seems to say, “Faith is useless; what is needed is fear.” But if we genuinely try to live as if God were the stability of our times, we might find that Isaiah’s words are not only true but exactly what we need to hear in our unpredictable times.

Lift High the Cross

Around the year 300, Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, declared that in Jerusalem she had discovered the cross of Jesus. Over the ensuing decades and centuries, pieces of that cross came into the possession of churches, monasteries, chapels and individual believers all over the world, so many that it’s hard to believe that all of them were from the cross Helena found.

But whether or not pieces of that cross exist in so my places, on a deeper level the cross of Jesus can be found anywhere there is human suffering, especially suffering that is unmerited or comes from the hatred or indifference of others. The cross should remind us that the crucifixion is not a once-upon-a-time event that happened centuries ago. It still happens.

But even more importantly, the cross is a powerful symbol of hope, for it proclaims that Christ understands our suffering because he experienced suffering himself, only to rise again. Because of his rising, the cross symbolizes the defeat of death, including all the little deaths we go through in our lives. And the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews wants us to realize that Christ has compassion on us because of what he suffered.

The cross of Jesus is thus a reminder of suffering undeserved and, at the same time, of grace undreamed of. So, we ought to be proud of its challenge and its consolation and “lift it high” indeed.

Getting It Right, Getting It Wrong

Peter’s declaration that Jesus was the Christ, the Son God, is one of the turning points of St. Matthew’s gospel (Matthew, ch.16), and Jesus tells Peter that he could never have come to that realization on his own; it had to be a gift of God. But when Jesus started talking about his coming suffering and death, Peter felt compelled to tell him, in front of the other disciples, how wrongheaded he was. And Jesus, who had just called Peter a “rock” for his faith, now called him “satan.”

Peter must have been stunned at such words from Jesus and being told that his thinking was totally out of step with God’s. The disciples must have been confused as well. Which was the real Peter? For that matter, which was the real Jesus?

Like Peter, we likely get Christ “right” at some times and “wrong” at others. We probably would prefer to think of the glory and power of Christ rather than his suffering and weakness. Maybe that’s because we want to share in the glory but realize that discipleship will also mean carrying our cross. So, Peter may have told Jesus to stop talking about having to suffer because Peter himself didn’t want to suffer.

But, as his life went on, Peter learned that following Jesus meant being willing to embrace and endure what Jesus embraced and endured. We struggle to learn the same lesson, and we can take consolation from the fact that we are in good company when we do.