To Whom Can We Go in Time of Scandal?

If you ask when I became a Christian, my answer would be early in May, 1955, when I was baptized.

But ask the same question to any of our Protestant Evangelical brothers and sisters, and their answer will be very different. They probably won’t mention baptism at all. They might say “I made a decision for Christ on my eighteenth birthday” or “I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Saviour ten years ago.

Today’s Gospel, in light of the deepening scandal in the Church, asks us Catholics to consider giving their personal answer to the question “when did you become a Christian?”

But let’s begin with the first reading. It also contains a question.  Joshua is nearing his death, having lead the people into the Promised Land. He knows the temptations they will face, now that they have left behind the foreign gods of their exile.

And so he first asks the leaders and the people of Israel to think about all that God has done for them. In a part of his speech we don’t read today, he reminds them how God delivered them from their slavery in Egypt, and protected them on their long journey.

And then Joshua offers a free choice. Decide today whether you want to serve the gods you worshipped in your exile, or the Lord God.

The people answer without hesitation. Their memory of God’s deeds is still very fresh, and they choose the Lord.

Jesus gives an equally free choice to his disciples in today’s timely Gospel. He knows that some of the crowd following him haven’t believed all along. But now he realizes that some others have found it impossible to believe what he said about himself.  Bread of Life? His flesh real food? Blood real drink?

His words are too much for these disciples. They walk away.

The word “scandal” means obstacle comes from a Greek word meaning a snare or a stumbling block. It was something to trip over. Jesus’ teaching about the Eucharist was something those former followers couldn’t get past.

As they walked away, Jesus turned to the apostles, to the inner circle of his followers.  He didn’t say “oh don’t you go!”  Rather, in all gentleness, he asks them “Do you also wish to go away?”

A dear friend of mine told me that he and his wife talked this week about whether or not they would go to Mass today; indeed, whether or not they could stay Catholic in the face of the snare that has been set by the recent scandals in the Church.

Their answer to each other, at this point anyway, is the answer St. Peter gave to Jesus. “To whom can we go?”

In some ways, God’s mercy has prepared us all for the question “Do you also wish to go away?” For five weeks, Jesus has told us that he is the Bread of Life, that his flesh and blood are real food and real drink.

Sunday after Sunday, the Lord has revealed to us the life-giving power of the Eucharist—food and drink to sustain us on earth, and the Bread of Heaven that endures to eternity.

We have heard everything that the disciples and apostles heard about the great Sacrament we are about to celebrate and receive. Now, or in the days ahead, we will need to listen to Christ ask “Do you also wish to go away?”

Explanations and apologies for the current crisis will not keep anyone—priest or layman—coming to Church. Some will turn back, and no longer walk with us.

But those who remain will, I believe, be those who pray “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

It may be that there will be people who, when asked “when did you become a Christian?” may even answer, “when scandals in the Church required me to make a decision for Christ.”

I would like to end with one personal comment. To have a seminarian living in the house during these difficult times has been painful for me.  What do you say to an idealistic young man as he prepares for the priesthood?

As things turned out, what Felix said in his short talk after Mass on Friday were words for us to hear. Referring to the smoke from forest fires that clouded the sky last week, Felix pointed out though it obscured the sun, the sun continued to shine.

Evil in the Church has obscured our vision, but God is still with us, and loving us at this time of pain and sorrow.

There have been countless statements trying to help people come to terms with the present crisis; I haven’t had time to keep up with them, but it’s likely that Bishop Robert Barron has some helpful things to say, so you may want to watch this. (I have not had time to watch it myself, so this is not a blanket endorsement of what he has to say.)