Thu. Dec 1st, 2022

Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time – Ml 3,19-20; 2 Thessalonians 3,7-12; Luke 21,5-19

The Road
I’ve got to go. After all, this world is not my home,

I’m reading Malachi. That the day is coming like a furnace, and the unrighteous will be straw that will be burnt in it. And for those who worship God, “the sun of righteousness will shine with healing in its rays”. So, as I understand it, the time will come when worshipers will get justice for the wrongs they have had done to them and their wounds will heal. And in the Gospel, I read about the persecution that the disciples of Jesus must face because of their faith. Yes, I also see this paradox: first “some of you will be put to death” and in the next breath “not a hair from of your head will be lost”. But I understand: even if Jesus’ disciples are to die for their faith, they save eternal life . . .

I read and see, as others, my lost expectations. I expected of my faith small or greater successes in the world. That if everyone evangelises four, and you evangelize another four . . . And so on. Yet today it is just as Christ said: Christians are hated, Christians, by the exercise of collective responsibility, are accused of the worst. And even if in our cultural circles no one talks about killing, it is about being pushed into the role of second-class citizens. Only we are the ones to have to hide our views, and only we are not allowed to publicly pursue our own interests and so on . . . So, the love for Christ weakens in many. They put on the clothes of religious indifference or are “believers, but” . . .

It’s strange to be, for the sake of Jesus, somehow worse than others. But it’s nothing. After all, the world is not our home, but at best a rather dingy hotel in which we stay for a while. Heaven is our homeland . . .

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