Twentieth Sunday of Ordinary Time

Today--the "20th Sunday in Ordinary Time" of the Roman Church calendar--we (M and I) attended Mass. I am aware throughout the mass of the parts of it, not as a theologian, but as one who wishes to avoid thinking too hard about the mysteries, to avoid the recognition that all these constructions of theology are of history, of past distinctions set in place for good reasons at that time. I am careful to avoid the distraction today of finding in Christ's saying "I've come to bring a sword" evidence of mischief, of intolerance. I find in it the proper reading--the reading which was no doubt meant, the reading that reveals the inner truth of love itself--love itself which divides, which is set at war against the world. In my heart I think of the young boy who is my neighbor whose mother works at Comfort Inn and whose father died when he was four. I think of this young lad on his bicycle, fatherless in this world save for the new boyfriend of the mom, the one from "Alaska". I pray for him and for his well being in the world. I pray for all those particular human beings like him whose lives are marked with loss, with tragedy. And, in praying, I am offering affirmation too that life will be good and that he will find the right path.

A friend said "How do I believe there is a God? Because when I pray I am believing". The love is now, right here, tears. The new atheists have harnessed their chariot to the demand for Evidence. They want evidence! Evidence! But evidence slides back into the past, into what is not. What is given to man is to be alive and that burden--that joyful burden--is to look forward to what is to be. I am on the verge of a transformation in this present.