for August 20
Memorial of St. Bernard, Abbott and Doctor of the Church

Let’s begin with today’s Gospel, because it is the gospel that prepares us for the Word we need to hear from the prophet Ezekiel in today’s first reading.

The parable of the wedding feast is challenging, especially in the way it imagines the One who reigns over the kingdom which Jesus’s parables reveal to us. The king whose invitation is spurned “was enraged and sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city.” A reaction we are too familiar with in human beings, but not one we are accustomed to hearing predicated of God. Perhaps this line reflects what Matthew knew had happened to the Temple in Jerusalem by the time he was composing his Gospel. It certainly echoes the historical experience of Matthew’s Jewish community, who had suffered through war, destruction and exile, and understood all of that as divine judgment on their unfaithfulness.

But that’s not all. Once the king’s servants have filled the banquet hall with guests, “bad and good alike”, the king singles out one who is not properly dressed and has him bound and cast out into the darkness. Judgment is swift and harsh for the guest who did not respond appropriately to the king’s invitation.

Ezekiel preaches to a community that has experienced just such terrible judgment. Their land has been conquered and they have been scattered in exile, God’s wrath poured out upon their profane “ways and doings.”

To these people, judged and found seriously wanting, Ezekiel proclaims that God’s holiness will be restored; God’s name will be vindicated—not, remarkably, by any further demonstration of awesome power and might, but by infinite tenderness. A gentle sprinkle of clean water will suffice to remove all impurity; the gift of God’s own Spirit will transform stone into a beating heart. Running after idols will be replaced with walking carefully in God’s path, and above all, God promises absolute faithfulness: “you shall be my people and I will be your God.”

These are freighted words to Ezekiel’s hearers, and to us. Speak of water and Israel’s mind rushed to the image of God’s Spirit brooding over the waters of creation, to the opening of the Red Sea, to rocks in the desert where water sprung forth. The followers of Jesus would also recall his baptism in the river Jordan, and the stormy seas on which he walked. No wonder it will take but a drop of such water to transform us!

And how often do the prophets—not just Ezekiel, but Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea—tell us of God speaking to our hearts? The familiar and welcome words “I will be your God and you will be my people,” not only establish our relationships with God and each other, this promise repairs our broken places again and again and again.

Still, how is it that we find ourselves so often in exile, so often far from the heart of God, and from the dignity that God created and the life that God intends for us?

Perhaps there is some deliberate choice on our part, some out-and-out refusal to cooperate with the greater good, a choice to make an idol of our identity or economic security or something else that’s less than God. Perhaps it’s not even a rational choice, but pursuing some short-term satisfaction over long-term struggle. Perhaps, even, it’s a matter of getting swept up in the tide of events beyond our control, stuck in social circumstances from which we are protected while others suffer.

We find ourselves, as a nation, in something of an exile in place. We are in a time where a 20% infection rate for  a deadly disease is touted as good progress while at the same time we are plunged into anxiety over whether a bad cold is COVID-19 about to burst forth. Our children may be the human faces behind double-digit unemployment statistics. The students we teach may be among the estimated 82% more people in the world experiencing crisis-level hunger in 2020 than last year. We “should be wailing and gnashing our teeth” in protest over how far our country is from where we aspire to be.

Ezekiel speaks to us today; we too can be consoled by the promise that right relationships with God and each other will be restored. But even so, we must not be so comforted that we forget the poorly dressed wedding guest. The invitation to the banquet is just the beginning; it is up to us to follow the Spirit placed within us, to allow the prophet’s Word to lead our hearts in the ways God wishes us to go.

So listen again, in the audio file below, to what Ezekiel promises to people who are in pretty much the same place that we are.
—BJ Brown

Today’s readings can be found on the US Conference of Catholic Bishops website.