I don’t talk much about my vocation story, partly because there’s not that much to say! No dramatic conversion, and I wasn’t one of those boys who wanted to be a priest from an early age.
In fact, from the time I was four years old until I was fourteen I wanted
only to be a doctor.
What happened at fourteen, you might ask. Simple. I got back a report
card with my first C in science. And I’m sorry to say it wasn’t my last. It
didn’t take long to figure out I was not destined for medical school.
But a preacher has to know some science—several of the great Fathers of
the Church, including St. John Chrysostom, were quite scientific in their
sermons on today’s Gospel. They speak about its use as a preservative, as a
seasoning, and even as something destructive used to destroy crops in time of
war.
Most of the other natural substances Jesus uses in his teaching are
straightforward: things like bread, wine, oil, seeds, and leaven. But salt is
ambiguous.
I may not be an expert on salt, but I know more than a fourth century
preacher did. And what I know—what we all know these days—is just as ambiguous
as what St. John Chrysostom knew.
Too much salt leads to high blood pressure and other medical problems.
Too little is just a big a problem even if it’s not as common. We need salt for
our bodies to work properly.
And cooks know that some foods need salt and others don’t. I haven’t
seen anybody putting salt on their ice cream lately.
So there are two sides to the story when Jesus calls us “the salt of the
earth.” There’s a downside to salt.
We need to be careful about being the salt of the earth for others. If
we over-season our conversation with morality or judgement, we can raise
someone’s blood pressure pretty darn quick. Just this week I heard two stories
from people in health care whose jobs require them to deal with people
requesting assisted suicide—medical assistance in dying.
The situations were different but the conclusions were the same: just telling
people it’s wrong to end their life this way almost always does more harm than
good. A Catholic doctor tells how she listened with great care to a patient
asking for MAiD. The patient told the doctor she was so touched by the
compassion that she wanted her to be the one to cause her death.
The physician explained that she could not do this, and told the patient
why. The patient, comforted by the doctor’s caring approach, chose not to carry
on with the request.
I wasn’t surprised to hear this. In our pastoral counselling course in
the seminary a brilliant professor of medicine, founder of the Catholic
marriage counselling network in Britain, urged us to resist our natural
instinct to tell people what they need to do—not because there’s no place for
that in the pulpit but because it’s simply no use in counselling.
(In most cases, if they are Catholic, their heads know very well what is
right and what is wrong. It’s their hearts we can help.)
Whether it’s a priest dealing with parishioners, a doctor with patients,
or a hospital chaplain with someone asking for MAID, we need to be like a good
cook, who know that less can be more, especially when it comes to salt.
This, of course, is something many parents have learned the hard way. Contrary
to instinct, young people tune out sermonizing—they don’t like to be told, but
they love being heard. If we listen to them they will usually provide an
opportunity for the truth to be told sooner or later.
We may have incredibly good arguments but if we come across as negative
or stern, young people will want nothing to do with what we’re offering.
I got a tremendous Christmas gift from a generous parishioner—a book
called “Return: How to Get Your Child Back to Church.” The book, published by Bishop Barron’s
Word on Fire ministry, is full of great advice for parents. Among the simple
things it says is just “speak with positivity and joy.”
The author, Brandon Vogt, has other books with practical advice on what to say and how to say it when sharing
our faith with anyone. You can get them on Amazon
or “Return” directly from Word on Fire. And over the summer another kind parishioner gave me a book of
essays, also from the amazing people at Word on Fire, titled “The New Apologetics: Defending the Faith in a Post-Christian Era.” It too
presents a whole new way of being salt and light. You can also get it on Amazon.
(Links to these books are on my blog. I should also mention that after
Communion today we are going to hear about a terrific event this week that can help strengthen
fathers in their important role.)
And then there are teachers. Pope Paul VI famously said: “Modern man
listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to
teachers, it is because they are witnesses.” (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 41)
We are so blessed in our parish and in our Archdiocese to have solid
Catholic schools with many disciples teaching in them. I’m particularly proud
of the two schools our parish supports. A number of our active parishioners
teach and minister at St. Anthony’s and St. Thomas Aquinas. We support the
schools financially, but we really owe the teachers our prayerful support as
well.
I hope I haven’t discouraged anybody from being salt of the earth. I
thought I might end by saying at least there’s nothing ambiguous about being
the light of the world. But a commentary on the text points out that there’s a
danger here, too. “If people see our good works they might praise us as good,
saintly Christians and then we would ‘have received our reward’,” as St.
Matthew says in the next chapter.
“But Christ never lets his light and wisdom shine forth from his own
center. Instead he lets them radiate from the Father’s light and wisdom.” (Hans
Urs von Balthasar, Light of the World, p. 46)
Christ’s disciples must also take care that their actions reflect God’s
glory and not their own. St. Teresa of Calcutta regularly said Cardinal
Newman’s prayer “Radiating Christ,” which is inspired by what we heard Jesus
say this morning.
That prayer includes these words “Shine through me, and be so in me that
every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let them
look up and see no longer me, but only Jesus!”
St. John Henry Newman wasn’t praying only about being light to the world
but also, indirectly, about being salt for the earth—because the prayer ends
“Let me preach Thee without preaching, not by words but by my example, by the
catching force of the sympathetic influence of what I do, the evident fullness
of the love my heart bears to Thee. Amen.”
And so my one sentence summary: there can be too much of a good thing
when it comes to sharing the faith or speaking the truth; sometimes “less is
more.”
Let us season and preserve the world of our families, friends, and
workplaces more by what we do than by what we say—all for God’s glory, and with
the Holy Spirit’s help.
Dear Jesus,
help me
to spread Your fragrance wherever I go.
Flood my soul with Your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly,
that my life may only be a radiance of Yours.
Shine through me, and be so in me
that every soul I come in contact with
may feel Your presence in my soul
Let them look up and see no longer me, but only Jesus!
Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine as You shine,
so to shine as to be a light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from You;
none of it will be mine.
It will be you, shining on others through me.
Let me thus praise You the way You love best,
by shining on those around me.
Let me preach You without preaching,
not by words but by my example,
by the catching force of the sympathetic influence
of what I do,
the evident fullness of the love my heart bears to You.
Amen.
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