On Being “In the World”
Homily for the Seventh Sunday of Easter
May 24, 2020
In our gospel reading for this Seventh Sunday of Easter we have a part of Jesus’ great priestly prayer, offered prior to his death and resurrection (John 17:1-11). Praying specifically for his followers, our Lord indicates that, after his return to the Father, there will be a difference in that he will no longer be present in a bodily way. The passage concludes with the words, “And now I will no longer be in the world, but they are in the world, while I am coming to you.”
I want to reflect on Jesus’s statement, “they are in the world.” Obviously, this indicates more than geography or global positioning. Our presence as disciples of the Lord is related to Jesus’ absence. So, I think the important question is, how are we to be in the world?
First, let me point to a distinction that biblical scholars and theologians make, namely, that while we are in the world, we are not of the world. St. Paul, for instance, wrote in his letter to the Philippians, “As you well know, we have our citizenship in heaven; it is from there that we eagerly await the coming of our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil 3:20). This means that, as disciples of Jesus, we believe that he is the way the truth and the life. We are to conform our lives to the values of Christ, we are to follow his example, we are to continue his mission, rather than being conformed to the ways of the world, especially when they clearly contradict the way of Jesus.
We have a marvelous testimonial from the second century, the letter to Diogentus, which gives an outsider’s analysis of the life of Christians at that time. Consider:
Christians are not differentiated from other people by country, language or customs. You see, they do not live in cities of their own, or speak some strange dialect, or have some peculiar lifestyle. Their teachings have not been contrived by the invention and speculation of inquisitive individuals; nor are Christians promulgating mere human teaching as some people do. They live in both Greek and foreign cities, wherever chance has put them. They follow local customs in clothing, food and the other necessities of life. But at the same time, they demonstrate to us the wonderful and certainly unusual form of their own citizenship.
They live in their own native lands, but as aliens. As citizens, they share all things with others, but like aliens they suffer all things. Every foreign country is to them like their native country, and every native land like a foreign country. They marry and have children just like everyone else; but they do no not kill unwanted babies. They offer a shared table, but not a shared bed. They are present “in the flesh,” but they do not live “according to the flesh.” They are passing their days on earth, but are citizens of heaven. They obey the appointed laws, and go beyond the laws in their own lives.
They love everyone, but are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death and gain life. They are poor and yet make many rich. They are short of everything and yet have plenty of all things. They are dishonored and yet gain glory through dishonor. Their names are blackened and yet they are cleared. They are mocked and they bless in return. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers. When punished, they rejoice as if being given new life. They are attacked as aliens and are persecuted; yet those who hate them cannot give any reason for their hostility.
To put it simply, the soul is to the body as Christians are to the world. The soul is spread through all parts of the body, and Christians through all the cities of the world. The soul is in the body but is not of the body. Christians are in the world but not of the world.
Now, the circumstances at that time were certainly different than today. For one thing, being a Christian, serving a god other than Caesar, was illegal, and many followers of Christ paid the price. We may disagree on one or another particular of the above description, for times have changed, and our understanding of what it means to be a Christian has developed. But the point is that to the outsider who wrote this letter, to be a follower of Christ meant that there was a unique way of being in the world. And it made a difference, as in providing a soul, being leaven in the bread, salt of the earth, and light for the world.
Many observers of society in our day lament the fact that life seems to have been coarsened and expectations seem to be lower than they once were.
Many years ago, President Dwight Eisenhower, speaking at the National Press Club, admitted that he was not much of an orator. “It reminds me of my boyhood days on a Kansas farm,” he related. “An old farmer had a dairy cow we wanted to buy. My dad and I went over to ask him about the cow’s pedigree. The old farmer didn’t know what pedigree meant. So my dad asked him about the cow’s butterfat production. He told us that he hadn’t any idea what that was either. Finally, dad asked him if he knew how many pounds of milk the cow produced each year. By now the old farmer was puzzled. He shook his head and said, ‘I don’t know. But one thing I do know for sure is that she’s an honest old cow, and she’ll give you all the milk she has!’” Eisenhower concluded, “I’m like that old cow. I’ll give you everything I have (as president).” Ike, and many others of his generation, had a way of being in the world.
A successful businessman once was asked for the secret of success by a student who interviewed him as part of a senior thesis. Thoughtfully, the businessman pondered the question. His reply summed up success in three words: “and then some.” “You see,” he said, “I learned early in life that the difference between average people and the truly successful could be simply stated in those three words. Top people did what was expected, and then some! The truly successful were thoughtful of others, and then some. They met their obligations fairly and squarely—and then some. They were good friends and helpful neighbors—and then some. They could be counted on in an emergency—and then some.” This businessman, and many others like him, have a great way of being in the world—and then some.
On the other hand, there’s the case of a young carpenter who married a building contractor’s daughter. Soon thereafter, the father-in-law decided to boost the career of his new son-in-law. “Son,” he said, “I don’t want you to start at the bottom of this construction business as I did. I want you to go out to my job-site and build the most tremendous house this town has ever seen. Put the best of everything in it, make it a showplace, and turn it over to me when you are finished.”
The young man thought, “Well, this is an opportunity to make a killing.” He hurried out to slap together a building with sub-standard lumber, shingles, cinderblocks, cement, etc., but billed for the “best” materials. He and a shady wholesaler split the profits from that deception. In short order the young man presented his father-in-law with the keys to the newly finished house. “Is it a tremendous showplace of the newest and best materials as I asked?” inquired the father-in-law. “It sure is, dad,” answered the son-in-law. “Is it the finest house ever built, son?” “You betcha, dad.” “All right, where’s the final bill? And did you include a good profit in it for yourself?” “Uh, well…Here it is,” replied the young man, “and yes, I did.” The father-in-law then said, “I didn’t tell you why I wanted that house to be the best ever built. I wanted it to be something special that I could give to you and my daughter to show you how much I love you. Here, take the deed and the keys. Go live in that showplace; it’s yours now.” The young man slinked away, shattered and frustrated. He thought he was making a fortune, but in the end he only cheated himself. By his decisions and his actions this young man had picked a way of “being in the world”—and came to regret it.
In a recent interview, Pope Francis shared some of his reflections “from the pandemic” about how we are to be in the world. The Holy Father stated, “Today I believe we have to slow down our rate of production and consumption and to learn to understand and contemplate the natural world. We need to reconnect with our real surroundings. This is the opportunity for conversion….And speaking of contemplation, I’d like to dwell on one point. This is the moment to see the poor. Jesus says we will have the poor with us always, and it’s true. They are a reality we cannot deny. But the poor are hidden, because poverty is bashful. In Rome recently, in the midst of the quarantine, a policeman said to a man, ‘You can’t be on the street, go home.’ The response was, ‘I have no home. I live on the street.’ To discover such a large number of people who are on the margins…And we don’t see them, because poverty is bashful. They are there, but we don’t see them: They have become part of the landscape; they are things. St. Teresa of Calcutta saw them and had the courage to embark on a journey of conversion. To see the poor means to restore their humanity. They are not things, nor garbage; they are people. We can’t settle for a welfare policy such as we have for rescued animals. We often treat the poor like rescued animals. We can’t settle for a partial welfare policy” (Austen Ivereigh, Origins, April 23, 2020, pp. 755-756. The Pope challenges us to examine how the poor are in the world—and how we are in the world.
In a beautiful psalm-like poem, Praise Song for the Pandemic (on vimeo.com), writer Christine Valters Paintner calls beautiful attention to many of our new heroes (excerpts):
Praise be the nurses and doctors
every medical staff bent over flesh to offer care,
for lives saved and lives lost
for showing up either way,
Praise for the farmers tilling soil
planting seeds so food can grow
an act of hope if ever there was.
Praise be the janitors and garbage collectors,
the grocery store clerks, and the truck drivers barreling through long, quiet nights,
Give thanks for bus drivers, delivery persons, postal workers…
Celebrate the scientists, working away to understand the thing that plagues us, to find an antidote, all the medicine makers,
Praise be the journalists, keeping us informed,
Praise be the teachers, finding new ways to educate children,
and blessings on parents holding it together for them,
Blessed are the elderly and those with weakened immune systems,
all those who worry for their health…
Blessed are the ones whose jobs are lost, who have no savings, who feel fear of the unknown gnawing,
Blessed are those in grief, especially who mourn alone,
Blessed are those who have passed into the Great Night,
Praise for police and firefighters, paramedics, and all who work to keep us safe,
Praise for all the workers and caregivers of every kind,
Praise for the sound of notifications, messages from friends, reaching across the distance…
In the final section of the Praise Song, Paintner challenges us to learn from our days of being apart—to learn a new, more human, more thoughtful, more fulfilling way to be in the world:
Praise every moment of stillness and silence, so new voices can be heard,
Praise the chance at slowness,
Praise be the birds who continue to sing the sky awake each day,
Praise for the primrose poking yellow petals from dark earth,
Blessed is the air clearing overhead so one day we can breathe deeply again,
And when this has passed may we say that love spread more quickly than any virus ever could,
May we say this was not just an ending but also a place to begin.
And now let us bring all of this to prayer. You may wish to refer to last week’s reflection for the focusing exercise that prepares us for prayer. Then, slowly and reverently read Jesus’ words of prayer as he prepares to return to the Father: “They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. I do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one….As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world….I do not pray for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their word, that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you; I pray that they may be one in us, that the world may believe that you sent me” (see John 17:14-21).
Lord Jesus, how do you want me to be in the world? Why can’t I be of the world?
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.