In the ancient world, people often compared kingdoms to trees: Some were majestic, others were tall, and yet others never reached their potential. As we heard in today’s first reading, Ezekiel prophesized at some point during the 40-year Babylonian exile that God would liberate and restore the Kingdom of Judah, comparing the dreamy-eyed, ideal of the restored kingdom to a majestic cedar of Lebanon.
The people listening to Ezekiel prophesy surely considered him some kind of religious nut. After all, they reasoned, Nebuzaradan—the Captain of Nebuchadnezzar’s praetorian guard—had decimated Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, and deported the Judean elite into Babylon. Everything—all their hopes and dreams, all their earthly possessions, and all the attendant comfort—went up in flames. They could take nothing with them into their exile. The fate of the non-elites was pretty obvious: Left behind, they die of starvation and or disease with their corpses consumed by vultures and vermin.
Quite likely, the Jews thought prior to the fall of the Kingdom to Nebuzaradan, just as we would today, “That could never happen to us.”
The lesson for the exiles? God’s Kingdom of Judah and His Chosen People had turned away from their divine purpose and, having forsaken their true identity by embracing a worldly purpose, everything came crashing down under the weight of all their material comfort.
Invoking this image, Ezekiel was attempting to communicate to the exiles they’d once again be the envy of the entire world. Prophesying that God would graft “tender shoot” from the majestic cedar and replant it back in Judah where—nourished and strengthened by God’s Anointed One, the Messiah—the expatriates will have learned their lesson, would live as God commanded, and fulfill their divine purpose.
What ended in the Babylonian Captivity had its origins in what Jesus called a “childish” faith. Most if not all Judeans had dreams, hopes, and aspirations for their lives. But that was the problem: All too many of them believed the life God had breathed into them belonged to them—it was their life...their possession...and they were free to live it as they chose. And yes, even though many Judeans paid lip service to their belief in God, most thought the practice of that belief should be “fun,” make them “feel good,” make no demands, and certainly not require self-discipline.
But, history teaches, as the Judeans settled into the lifestyle defined by their childish faith, the Judeans lost their spiritual and moral compass and split into factions, each of which sought supremacy over the other. Ever so gradually yet imperceptibly, the Judeans turned to those “tall trees” who towered over all those other “lowly trees,” taking their cues from those tall trees about how they should live their most prized possession: Their lives. Over the course of a couple of decades, the tragic error became manifest: The Judeans no longer lived as God’s Chosen People. They had lost everything, were living in exile, and to grovel to their Babylonian overlords.
How they pined for the “good old days”!
God didn’t judge or condemn the Judeans; no, they condemned themselves. Having developed and become accustomed to a childish faith, yes, their professed to believe in God. But, the simple truth is: The Judeans wanted nothing to do with what living that belief required: Fulfilling their divine purpose as God’s Chosen People. That would have meant living the life God had breathed into each of them and disciplining themselves. Denying one, harsh reality of life “No pain, no gain,” the Judeans sentenced themselves to suffer not only physically but also spiritually at a magnitude that at times surely felt unbearable. Why? They had only themselves to blame!
Similar to the people of Judah, we also have dreams, hopes, and aspirations for our lives. But, once again, that’s the problem: The life God has breathed into us, all too many of us think, is “my life” that “I’m free to live as I choose.” And yes, while we profess to believe in God, most of us believe the practice of that belief should be “fun,” make us “feel good,” make absolutely no demands, and certainly not require any self-discipline.
That’s a childish faith—what I’ve called on other occasions a “Christmas crib” faith—one that’s wrapped up in a swaddling blanket, laid in a manger, and protected from the elements to avoid any discomfort. It’s similar to luxuriating in a warm, comfortable bed on Sunday morning professing to believe in God yet doing absolutely nothing to “keep holy the Sabbath.” This childish faith denies that one, harsh reality of life: “No pain, no gain.”
That childish faith then gradually normalizes sin and eventually mocks natural virtue—prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance—without which there can be no holiness of life. But, as the experience of the Judean people teaches us, doing so surely will lead to the destruction of life as we know and enjoy it. Then, in the end and just like the Judeans, we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves. But, in the meantime, “Just do it...,” as Nike preaches and, like quislings, we abide by the tall trees of today’s world.
Just ask the Judeans…or, even better yet since there aren’t any Judeans today, ask the high school junior, Jackson Graham, who I read about earlier this week.
Graham grew up in a Catholic household but drifted away from his faith early in his freshman year. The COVID-19 restrictions were, for Graham an exile causing him Graham to realize “how much worse my life was when I was not putting God first.” Knowing there’s no gain without pain, Graham committed to attend Mass and pray the rosary each day, the goal being for these to assist Graham in conquering his vices. Once the COVID-19 restrictions were finally lifted, Graham said returning to school in-person offered him the opportunity for a “new beginning”...restoration with a clear direction.
What does that mean in concrete terms?
Graham has committed himself during his senior year to continue attending Mass and praying each day. In addition, he’s forming a senior class men’s group whose members will discuss the Catholic faith and hold each other accountable in conquering their vices.
“Don’t be afraid to cast your net out and really start diving into your faith,” Graham said, “The Lord gives you the courage you need, and it's attractive.”
This more child-like faith, the kind of faith Jesus recommended to his disciples, continuously recalls that God has chosen each of us and it’s “God’s life in me” not “my life.” The purpose of this life—if we’re to experience any semblance of authentic fulfillment—is “to live my life as I want” but to conform with God’s will for me. As Jackson Graham learned early in his young adult life, this kind of child-like faith doesn’t remove us from the world but requires being of and living in this world for the Kingdom of God…which requires self-discipline.
This more child-like faith is realistic because, as any of us with any depth of life experience, know that none of us can “have it all” in this world.
Once again: “No pain, no gain.”
Just ask the Judeans but since there aren’t any today, ask Ryan Feocco, who started as a member of his high school’s basketball team during his senior year. Having just graduated this past May, Feocco is planning to attend the University of Florida this fall.
Feocco grew up in a relatively nonreligious household. When matriculating at a Catholic high school, Feocco didn’t find the idea of Catholicism appealing at first but decided to approach it with an open mind. His freshman and sophomore years, Feocco says, was “a time in my life where I wasn’t really who I truly was.”
Then, having to take those useless but required theology courses, Feocco discovered the Church’s moral teachings about life, sexuality, and marriage aligned with his personal beliefs. Through a series of events “God revealed Himself,” Feocco said, and found himself praying for clarity and asking God to place the right people in his life. That’s when a close friend assisted Feocco to grow in faith and, during his senior year, Feocco joined the school’s RCIA program and, this past May, was received into the Church. Several of Feocco’s friends and fellow graduates are also planning to attend the University of Florida. They’ve formed a Catholic men’s group to support each other and attend Mass together during their undergraduate years to hold themselves and one another accountable.
Prayer is the key to keeping his faith strong, Feocco says:
When I first came to school I just recited the words and didn’t think anything of it. But prayer is undoubtedly, in my opinion, one of the most important things in the faith.
Spending that time praising and glorifying God through your own words—it shows you’re willing to give Him all that you have. Building that prayer life aids tremendously in what you can become in the faith.
All of us know a mature adult doesn’t spend life remaining ensconced in a comfortable crib. Life naturally forces children to cast those swaddling blankets aside and leave the crib behind if they are to begin exploring the world. That requires developing some self-discipline: Going to school instead of playing around; getting a job and paying bills; perhaps getting married and having a family or living a dedicated single life. Walking the pathway of self-discipline requires courage because it means accepting if not courageously embracing suffering if, like Jesus, we are to leave the crib in the past and discover each new day the truth of what constitutes a life that’s truly well-lived.
Choosing to be a “crucifix” Catholic requires each of us to steel the courage it will take to embrace that kind of self-chosen self-discipline which will strengthen us to grow in virtue and to avoid vice. But, in contrast to the Judeans and as Jackson Graham and Ryan Feocco discovered as young adults, when we grown in virtue and avoided vice, we will conclude our days having lived for the Kingdom of God and enjoyed a life that was truly well-lived, though imperfectly so. That’s when we’ll experience the fulfillment of our belief: Eternal life.
That’s what our Catholic faith teaches: To leave everything “oh so cozy” and “comfortable” behind—the Christmas crib—and to bring to fulfillment God’s life in us…which requires embracing the Crucifix by developing the self-discipline it will take to overcome our vices—putting sin to death and rising to new life. Not only that: Just like Jackson Graham and Ryan Feocco, we will need to do what it takes to be a “light to the nations”—to pray and partake of the Eucharist—if we’re to bring the light of God’s truth into the darkness of the world, not as a cudgel but an example of how to live in and of this world for the Kingdom of God.
Crucifix Catholics know and understand this ideal. They’re also willingly embrace it, fully aware it’s going require developing self-discipline to acquire what’s good—virtue—by rooting out what’s not good—vice.
We need to heed what the prophet Ezekiel reminded the Judeans about and what Jesus’ life attests to: Leave the childish faith of the Christmas crib behind by looking inside ourselves, recognizing the divine purpose for which God has created us as individuals, and then developing the self-discipline that’s required to bring that purpose to fulfillment. Only in this way will we bring that divine purpose to fulfillment by living out God’s life in us.
Not only that.
We will be that “tender shoot” about which the prophet Ezekiel prophesied, which God grafts from the majestic cedar and plants in this world for a divine purpose. In a similar way, Jesus taught his disciples the parable of the tiny mustard seed. That tender shoot and tiny mustard seed grow and mature into the majestic trees God intends of each amid all the challenges life presents. Providing rest for the weary and comfort for those who need some shade, as the Psalmist reminds us, “They bear fruit even in old age; vigorous and sturdy they are.” And just as people find refuge in these majestic cedars and mustard trees, so the lives of those who are rooted in the Truth of Christ taught by today’s scripture give praise to God as people see in them, experience of them, and learn from them something of God’s life.
“This is how it is,” Jesus said, “with the Kingdom of God.”
Holiness of life—trying to be a saint—requires leaving the crib behind and embracing the Crucifix. While each of us can “do this,” as Jesus taught, “in memory of me,” none of us can do it on our own. Yet, God has already blessed each of us with an array of talents, personal attributes, and capacities to lead holier lives that more approximate a saintly life. It’s as we pray and enter into the mystery of the Eucharist that God strengthens and nourishes us to practice the self-discipline so we will dedicate those talents, personal attributes, and capacities to others so they also will live in and of this world for the Kingdom of God.
That’s how people possessing a child-like faith grow in holiness and live even more saintly lives.
That represents our challenge from this week’s scripture: To examine our conscience by considering the error of the ancient Judeans alongside the witness of Jackson Graham and Ryan Feocco and honestly assess whose life we life: Is it God’s life in me? Or, is it “my life to live as I see fit”? Then, identify one vice—only one because running a marathon begins by taking baby steps—and take that one small step towards holiness by choosing its opposite—its antithetical virtue—that will free you from selfishness and become a better person.
Yes, that will require developing some self-discipline. So, commit to do it...for your own good.
Embracing suffering in this way, each of us will leave our childish, “crib” faith behind, embrace a more child-like, “crucifix” faith, and mature as Catholics who are a light to the nations as our lives give glory to God.
Catholics who don’t bear witness are like the Judeans who were incapable of sharing with others God’s life breathed into them. In difficult and painful times, when we have to choose the right path, where we have to say “No” to many things that could seduce us just as they seduced the Judeans. To develop that self-discipline, listen to the experience of two young adults—Jackson Graham and Ryan Feocco—whose decisions remind us there’s always prayer and the Eucharist through which, they attest, God makes us strong.
With many such parables Jesus speaks to us today, just as he did the crowds. Do you understand? If not, remember what Jesus did with his disciples: He gave them catechism classes where he explained everything to them in private.
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