22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A
Preached at the Church of the Assumption in Bellingham, WA
Recording
https://moorejesus.podbean.com/e/you-duped-me-o-lord/
Transcript
Thanks to an Assumption parishioner for editing this transcript.
I was rejected from the first seminary that I applied to. I had spent a year as a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Seattle, functionally as an intern at Saint Anthony’s Parish in Renton. I had discerned priesthood in Boston, and our Archdiocese did not know me from Adam—so they really just wanted to watch me for a year, putting me at a parish before they let me go to seminary. Fair. Well, the way it works for a seminarian is you apply to a diocese or some sort of sponsoring institution, and they accept you. I was already accepted by the Archdiocese of Seattle, and that already involved lots of interviews, a psychological examination, a whole bunch of stuff. Then I applied to the academic institution, to the seminary, and generally if the diocese thinks you are good enough, the seminary should also think that you are good enough. But this seminary did not think that I was good enough. Or rather, they thought that I was too prideful to be a priest. I came from an engineering world, and when you apply for an engineering job, you interview the company as much as they interview you. You come with hard questions; you make sure you can press them on things. I was applying to Catholic University in D.C., and they had a professor there who, at one point, was censured by the USCCB for heresy. So, I asked them about it. I was like, Hey, should I be worried about anything? And they said, What do you mean? And I said, Well, you have this professor who is censured for heresy; is that still a problem? And they said, We are a pontifical institution—every professor we have is approved by Rome. To which I replied, And how closely does Rome watch? So, I got turned down. Thankfully, the Archdiocese did watch me for a year, they did trust me and they said, okay, we see why you got in trouble because you have a tendency to speak that way. Don’t do that next time, but we will have you reapply to a different seminary.
Nevertheless, there was about a two week period between being rejected by the first seminary and hearing from the diocese that I would be allowed to apply to a different seminary. I have to tell you, during those two weeks, I was incredibly relieved. I was so, so happy to have been turned down by the seminary, because being a priest was never my desire and it was never my idea. I grew closer to the Lord in high school, and in college, I gave my life to the Lord. In that giving my life to him, He put priesthood on my heart, but I was never thrilled about the idea. There was a kind of a weirdness that was developing between me and my friends, where they were seeing me more as this guy trying to be a priest than a friend. Although we overcame that very quickly, there were very, very difficult conversations with my family. And I just knew that I was going to live a life that was weird. It was strange. It was different than everybody else, and it was not what I wanted for myself. It was not what I planned on doing, but I followed it anyway—because if the Lord asks you to do something, you don’t say no. So finally, when I worked through this process, applied to a seminary and somebody else told me no, I was so happy. I thought, “Man, this means I can finally be normal again; I can go back to just being a normal guy with a normal job and I can date and it’s going to be awesome.” I had hoped that the Church, at some point, would discern for me that this was not what I was supposed to do, and so, when they did for two weeks, I was really excited about it. Then the Archbishop said, “Jeff, we are going to have you apply to a different seminary.” And I said, “Thank you, Your Excellency.” I didn’t want it, but it was what the Lord called me to do and with priesthood/religious life, the Church discerns for you.
Having been ordained, having served as a priest, I just want to be clear: I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The Lord knew what He was doing. There is still part of me that sometimes wonders what would it be like to have lived a more normal life, but that part of me is always a very, very quiet voice. I wouldn’t trade the priesthood for anything. Nevertheless, I tell you that story because it is a way to enter into our first reading.
This reading from Jeremiah is one of the most powerful, certainly one of the richest readings we have in the Old Testament. Jeremiah is the prophet of doom. I have been listening to the Bible in a Year, and Father Mike Schmitz is very clear. Jeremiah, unlike most of the other prophets, is not really there to preach repentance. Most of the prophets say if you repent, things are going to go better, but you need to repent first. Jeremiah basically says you have not repented. The destruction is coming—brace yourself. There is not a lot of hope. He is just there to preach the destruction of Jerusalem and to make sure that people know what is coming and why it is coming. It is a thankless task, and he is alienated from everyone around him all the time. He is hated by the ruling class; he is hated by the king and by the chief priests. Nobody wants to listen to what he has to say. This is his lament to the Lord. In his commentary this week, John Bergsma said that this word “duped” might be better translated as “seduced.” Maybe the Bible translators were like, we don’t want to use that word in Church—but it is better translated as seduced, because duped means that God lied to him. God did not lie to Jeremiah. Jeremiah knew the Lord; he was attracted to the Lord; he gave his life to the Lord. When the Lord asked him to do something, he couldn’t say no. So, he’s lamenting to the Lord: Lord, you seduced me, and I let myself be seduced. I love you, and I gave my life to you but the consequences of doing so are difficult. They are hard. I don’t like what I have to do. He goes on to lament, All the day I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me whenever I speak. I must cry out, violence and outrage is my message. Nobody wants to do that. They don’t want to be a laughing stock. They don’t want to have to cry out violence and outrage. They don’t want to be derision and reproach all the day. And Jeremiah says, I’ve tried over and over again to stop. I say to myself, I will not mention him. I will speak in His name no more. He’s trying to get away from this difficult task that he has. But then he says, But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones; I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it. He has to speak the Word of the Lord. The Word of the Lord is too powerful. This is the task that He has been given, and he can’t say no.
My brothers and sisters in Christ, we talk a lot about evangelization and we talk a lot about discipleship. This is the image I want to give you of discipleship. The goal that we are all working toward is to be so close to the Lord that we have given Him our life as a blank check—such that no matter what He asks us to do, we cannot say no. As Christians, we have to confront the fact that sometimes the Lord asks us to do things that are very, very difficult. Saint Paul gives language to that in our second reading. He says, Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice. In ancient religion, a sacrifice was always a blood sacrifice. You gave up something that matters to you, and oftentimes that thing was completely destroyed, completely eaten up. So, when Saint Paul says to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, he is saying, Let yourself be killed for the Lord–maybe killed once as a martyr, or maybe a million times with a million different paper cuts as people ridicule you or laugh at you, but give yourself up for the Lord. Do not conform yourselves to this age. Again, don’t numb those words. Do not conform yourself to this age means that you will be an object of scorn and ridicule, because the age that you have not conformed yourself to is going to hate you, it’s going to alienate you and it’s going to push you away. Saint Paul says don’t blend in. Well, if you don’t blend in, you stick out. That’s the point, and that’s the problem. But be transformed by the renewal of your mind that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect. If you don’t give God a blank check, if you conform yourself to the age, if you give yourself over to whatever people want to hear, you can’t discern the will of God. You can’t do what is good and pleasing and perfect. Instead, as Christians, as followers of Christ, we have to give God that blank check. And when He cashes it, no matter what it is, we have to say yes. If He asks us to be ridiculed, we have to say yes. If He asks us to alienate ourselves from the age, we have to say yes. If He asks us to be a living sacrifice, somebody who is still alive and yet is being destroyed continually, we have to say yes.
Nobody ever said that Christianity is easy, or if they have, they lied to you. But God is so beautiful. He is so incredible. He is so magnificent and loving and awe-inspiring, that at some point, if you grow closer to Him, you are going to go all the way. You are going to give Him your entire heart because He’s already given you everything that He has. He has given you His Son. He has given you salvation and purification. You are going to find Him, and you are going to say, Lord, I can’t say no to You. You are too good and too lovely and too perfect. And when you do that, you are going to give Him a blank check. When He cashes that check, sometimes you are going to say, You duped me O Lord, and I let myself be duped. But I can promise you, having had one of those Jeremiah moments myself, it is worth it. No matter what the Lord asks of you, it is for your good. It is for your benefit. He knows what He is doing, and that blank check will always be rewarded.
Fr. Moore 