21st Sunday in Ordinary Time
(Isaiah 66:18-21; Hebrews 12:5-7, 11-13; Luke 13:22-30)
Today’s second reading comes from one of the least
appreciated works in the Bible. A well-known scholar once said that the Letter
to the Hebrews is “one of the most impressive works of the New Testament.” Yet
few Christians know its argument or why it is held in such high esteem by
experts.
Part of the difficulty is that both the author and the
audience of Hebrews remain anonymous. We don’t know who these “Hebrews” were,
except that they were Jewish Christians—perhaps converts or, possibly, the
children of converts. The letter also deals with themes unfamiliar to most
Catholics, such as Jewish worship. The Old Testament contains chapter after
chapter of prescriptions about the altar and sacrifices, material we often
ignore. Hebrews reflects on these sacrifices, and many today find it equally offsetting.
Today I’d like to focus on the letter but not its main
thesis. I want to reflect on a subtheme
that touches all of us—the mystery of suffering, especially the suffering of
the innocent. This is what theology calls “theodicy.” It asks: Why do bad
things happen to good people? From what we can tell, the audience of
Hebrews had endured persecution for their faith in Christ. It wasn’t martyrdom,
but it was painful enough that some were tempted to give up. On top of that,
they were disappointed that Christ had not yet returned as they expected. They
stood at a crossroads: continue as Christians or go back to the rituals and
traditions of their ancestors.
The author urges them not to turn back. He explains that God
allows suffering, not out of neglect, but out of love. God uses it to teach
patience, endurance, and humility—in a word, discipline. The author had already
reminded them of the long line of saints who held firm to faith through trials,
even more severe than theirs. And he insists that such suffering is worth it.
Discipline has always involved some pain. Athletes push
through grueling training so they can excel in competition. The Book of Job
wrestles with this same question. Job is tested with wave after wave of
suffering, his faith refined in the process. Yet for many, this explanation
isn’t enough—especially when those who suffer are children or people who seem
completely innocent.
They cannot see sins in their lives that would “deserve”
such trials. They feel overwhelmed, tempted to lose faith in God’s mercy. Who
are these people today? Perhaps the people of Ukraine, still battered after three
and a half years of war. Or closer to home, the unemployed who have been
searching for months, and now hear that artificial intelligence will eliminate
even more jobs. They, too, may begin to wonder about the goodness of God. What
can we say to them?
Jesus revealed God to us, but not fully. He didn’t hide the
Father, but the mystery of God is greater than our minds can grasp. God is not
a genie, nor a supercomputer, nor any other being we could imagine. He is the ground
of all being; nothing could exist apart from Him. That He loves us is certain,
because Jesus and the prophets before him proclaimed it. But how that love
works out in history remains a mystery. Before that mystery, we must be like
Job: grateful for what has been given us and humble before what we cannot
understand.
Today’s Gospel shows us the right attitude before God.
Simply pointing to our past experiences with Him will not open the door to
eternal life. But if we remain faithful to Him—even through suffering—we will
enter His Kingdom and share the glory of the saints.
