In my last parish, someone once asked me: what is the most important thing in life?
He answered it by saying that it’s not your wealth, it’s your health. You could have
all the money in the world, but if your health is terrible, you can’t enjoy it.
Conversely, you might only have just about enough to life on, but if you have your
health, you’re in a much better position than the first situation. That’s true, but there
is something even more important than wealth, or health, and that’s your relationship
with God. You could have all the wealth in the world. Every time you are paid, you
bank balance is already so high you don’t even notice. You could be wallpapering
your house with £20 notes. Your health might mean that you could do everything
you ever wanted to do. But inside, there would still be something missing. No
matter what you did, it would never be enough. You would never feel fulfilled.
Enter the rich young man, stage right. What’s wrong with him, then? He’s got his
health, his wealth, and his relationship with God. He says to the Lord: “Good
master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He’s obviously thinking about
spiritual matters, and he’s gone to the Lord for personal, one-to-one advice.
Wouldn’t we love to be able to do that? Or might we be afraid what the answer
might be? “Jesus looked steadily at him, and loved him, and he said, ‘There is one
thing you lack. Go and sell everything you own and give the money to the poor, and
you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’” Just imagine how things
could have been different if the rich young man had done exactly that! He could
have been one of the Lord’s disciples, going round with Him, witnessing to all He
did and taught, and then, after the Ascension and Pentecost, he could have then gone
and spread the Good News together with the Apostles on their adventures across the
Roman Empire. But instead, for whatever reason, he can’t bring himself to part with
his wealth. Perhaps he might have had a change of mind later on, we simply don’t
know. But for now at least, he goes away, and goes away sad, and unfulfilled.
We are not all called to follow the Lord in that way. Sometimes people think that
priests take vows of poverty. Some do, but diocesan priests like myself do not. I do
have my own bank account. A lot of things are provided for me, like a free house,
but I do have to pay for my own car, tax it, insure it and so on. So we are not all
called to give all our money away to the poor and take a vow of poverty. But for
some people, that is their calling, their vocation. A vocation means a calling from
God, the special way in which we are called to follow Him. If we try and do
something else, no matter how good or holy, we won’t be fulfilled. We have to
follow our true vocation. Some people get married without it being their true
vocation, and others explore the religious life, join a convent or a monastery for a
while, and then realise that their calling lies elsewhere.
Today, in the Church, marriage perhaps gets a more positive presentation than it
might have done in the past; but the religious life is still considered to be the higher
calling. Pope St Paul VI, speaking back in 1964, effectively said that when the
young are discerning where God is calling them in life, it’s important they don’t see
the religious life as just one calling among others, of no greater or lesser worth (see
Pope Paul VI, Address to the General Chapters of Religious Orders and
Congregations, 23rd May 1964). Pope St John Paul II (in Vita Consecrata, no. 35),
also added that the Church has always seen the religious life as a special path to
holiness. I quote: “It is not by chance that there have been so many consecrated
persons down the centuries who have left behind eloquent testimonies of holiness
and have undertaken particularly generous and demanding works of evangelization
and service”. Some years ago I read a bishop, supported by Aid to the Church in
Need, saying that in his country, where the Faith was young, it was a sign of the
Church reaching maturity and coming to blossom, now that they were starting to
have native vocations to the religious life.
What shall I say about Sister Anne-Marie? This afternoon we celebrated
her 60th year as a Sister. I don’t want to embarrass her, but do take a look at the
photos in the hall covering just edited highlights of all the work she has done for the
Lord. I remember going to the Mass of a priest who was celebrating forty years of
ordination, and a visiting priest preached the homily. Afterwards, the jubilarian
priest said he had given instructions for the preacher to remember that it wasn’t his
funeral. Little did I know, he said, that he would treat it instead as my canonisation!
Just after the summer holiday, I went to the funeral of a priest up in Middlesbrough,
Canon Pat Hartnett. During the Mass, one of his priest friends recalled a
conversation shortly before his death. He said to him, looking back, you’ve
achieved so much more in your life as a priest than I have. Canon Pat responded,
quite simply, something like, well, that’s for God to decide. It’s a bit like the end of
the second reading today: “everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one
to whom we must give account of ourselves”.
Our relationship with God is the most important thing in our lives, even more
important than our health or our wealth. Sometimes we may have a very particular
or demanding call from God. But if we follow Him, God will certainly not be
outdone in generosity, and I’m sure Sister can vouch for that.
Curious about exploring things further? If you would like to ask further questions about the topics raised in these homilies (or maybe think it wasn’t explained too well!), please feel free to e-mail Fr Michael at stjoseph.thame@rcaob.org.uk