How many people are essentially helpless and vulnerable?  These human beings cannot “make it on their own,” They can’t because they don’t have the basic capacity or skills necessary to even begin to navigate life in our world. If they don’t have others to care for them and to protect them, they can’t survive. These people are completely unable to produce anything tangible or to directly contribute to the economy of their village or country. To some, maybe to too many, they are useless, a burden, a waste of resources. Perhaps they are among those to whom Jesus referred when he spoke about the littlest and the least.

It is easy to question why they exist. What is their purpose? What could possibly be the meaning of their lives? Of what value are these totally dependent human beings? This is utilitarian thinking, not Gospel-thinking. 

In primitive societies, and in times of raw survival, these folks are near the top of the list to be eliminated – for the good of the others. Let them die, so we can live. They are too old, too frail, too broken, or too disabled to be of any practical good. We can’t waste our precious, limited, vital supplies on them. It’s sad, but we must let them go.  

Tragically, there have been times and places, even in recent history, in order to try to create a society of the strongest, the best, the brightest, anyone considered to be less than optimally human was disposed of. In modern parlance they were categorized as “losers.” This pigeonholing of people exalts some and tears others down. And losers, even those who get the silver medal, are worthless. This way of designating human beings offers a twisted rationale for dismissing, or directly or indirectly killing, those whom the “winners” label as such.

It is incomprehensible that some modern countries today, especially those that live with super-abundance, still think so primitively. They continue to see some people as less than human, and therefore not deserving of being treated with dignity, respect, or even basic care. As always, the true reason is fear. Fear of what? That there won’t be enough to go around? Absurd!

Fear that these “defective” creatures are truly human? But they’re different than us, so they can’t be like us. Having a “THEM” to fear is a great distraction from what really is the agenda behind it: Those with more, merit more. Those with less can do without. If they can’t, too bad.

The United States Congress is made up of people who have plenty in terms of comfort and financial security – all they need and much more. Yet the majority of its elected representatives, at the request of the administration, is looking for ways to legitimize cutting all kinds of funding that is meant to support and assist the most needy among us. They back up their civilized cruelty with tissue paper rationalizations. There is no thought about how their decisions are going to devastate human lives.

Pearl Buck, American writer and novelist, once said,  “The test of any civilization is in how it treats its most vulnerable.” Sadly, we continue (humanity continues) to fail this test. Jesus once said, “Whatever you do to the littlest and least you are doing to me.” Our response, too often, is, “So what?”

Tevye, the milkman, protagonist of the musical, The Fiddler on the Roof, reflects on tradition in song. Tradition is that which holds and binds together the lives of his little Jewish community in Tzarist Russia in the nineteenth century. Every aspect of their days and weeks is dictated by tradition. Yet, Tevye experiences the tension between the way they live, rooted in the past, not really understanding why it is this way, and the changes that are forcing the present upon them. 

The word tradition comes from the Latin verb traducere, which can be translated as to hand on, to deliver, to entrust. What do we hand on from generation to generation? Customs, practices, formulations of ideas?  It is easy to take traditions for granted, not think too much about them. 

In the Gospel of Mark (Mark 7:1-13) Jesus is having a heated discussion (argument) with some Pharisees and teachers of the Law – those who were entrusted with honoring the tradition handed down to them, they believed, from Moses. These guardians of the interpretation of God’s instructions to their people gathered around Jesus to see if he was faithfully keeping the traditions of the ancestors. They had their suspicions.

They noticed that some of the disciples of Jesus were eating without having washed their hands. (Many of the ancient traditions had to do with practical hygiene and avoiding food-borne illnesses.) This doesn’t necessarily mean that the disciples hadn’t washed their hands, but that they hadn’t washed in the way the teachers of the Law and the Pharisees thought was correct. The tradition was to wash your arms all the way up to your elbows. Since the disciples were doing this wrong, it must be that Jesus hadn’t taught them according to the practice of their forebears.

Jesus responds to this criticism by pointing out that these accusers constantly insert human rules into their interpretation of the Law of God. In fact, their rules often became more important than God’s commands. These authorities had a very intricate and comprehensive set of precepts, which they imposed on the people, to basically cover all aspects of life. Jesus was inviting them back to the Source from which all their detailed instructions supposedly had been derived. 

The teachers of the Law and the Pharisees were much more concerned with “doing it right,” to maintain ritual purity, than with God’s intent that people be well – to the point where it became impossible for ordinary folks to comply. Jesus reduced all the commandments to these essentials: love God, love neighbor, love yourself (Mark 12:29-31). And he extended the concept of neighbor to be radically inclusive – anyone in need. 

This argument between those entrusted with interpreting the Law and Jesus reminded me of a quote that has stayed with me for about 40 years. “Tradition is the living faith of the dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.” I didn’t know, at that time, who had first said these words, but they resonate with truth.

Here is the rest of the quote:  “Tradition lives in conversation with the past, while remembering where we are and when we are and that it is we who have to decide. Traditionalism supposes that nothing should ever be done for the first time, so all that is needed to solve any problem is to arrive at the supposedly unanimous testimony of this homogenized tradition.” (Jaroslav Pelikan – American, Christian Theologian and Professor)

Much has been entrusted to us by those who have gone before us. Are we to carve these customs, ideas and ways of acting in gold and set them up, untouchable, on an altar? Isn’t that idolatry? To hold on to the past as if it can adequately help us to navigate our times is traditionalism – clinging to dead faith for dear life. We’ve always done it this way! It was good enough for them, so it’s all we need.

Life is constant change. The reality now is markedly different from the times of Moses, or Jesus, or any other previous religious authority. God has given us intelligence and the ability to choose. We are meant to use these gifts to discern what are God’s ways for us in the world today. Tradition, in its richest and fullest sense, requires that we respectfully take what we have been given and make it efficacious for our times.

 

Very early in the Gospel of John (John 1:38) Jesus asks this question of two disciples of John the Baptizer whom John directed to Jesus – the real deal. “What are you looking for?” It’s often used at the beginning of a directed retreat to help the retreatant to focus on what is it they really want from this time apart and in silence with God. The two disciples seemed to be surprised by Jesus’ turning around and directing this question to them. All they can come up with is, “Where are you staying (or abiding)?” Not very well thought out!

What Jesus was asking these followers certainly can be taken on several levels, and could be interpreted as “Why are you coming in this direction?” or “What do you want?” or, more likely with Jesus, “What are you most deeply seeking in your life?” Jesus has a tendency to push us and probe us and invite us to look at what’s really going on within us.

Life comes at us day by day, always moving, drawing us along, with little or no time to step back and consider what it’s all about. It’s as if the days fly by. There are, and will constantly be, pieces of reality clamoring for our attention and action. Are they all with the same urgency? Are they all of utmost importance? In the midst of the noise and busyness we cannot begin to sort anything out, prioritize, or just let some of it go. No wonder our life can feel overwhelming!

We don’t need a retreat to stop and hear Jesus asking us, “What is it that you truly are seeking?” We know the answer within ourselves. We want to be free and happy and fully alive. To make this our priority, in the midst of everything we have decided must be done now, demands courage and sacrifice. We need to let go of our illusions.

We don’t and can’t control anything. We can’t keep ourselves, or anyone else safe from all harm. We can’t guarantee that everything we want will come to be. All our efforts won’t make what we think should happen, in fact happen. It will ever be easy to slip back into our familiar, comfortable routines, because we cling to them, because we’ve convinced ourselves that this is the right way to live.

What are you looking for? Give yourself five minutes to step away from all you are caught up with. Look into your heart. What’s missing? Time just to be? Joy? A sense that you’re fine as you are? What have you deprived yourself of while you’ve distracted yourself with so much other than what you need?

No matter what response we give to Jesus, if we continue along his way, he will answer, “Come and See.” “Come away and you will see.” Go ahead. Give yourself this invaluable gift. It’s worth it.