16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year C

First Reading: Gn 18:1-10a

Second Reading: Col 1:24-28

Gospel Reading: Lk 10:38-42

“Courtesy” means “graceful politeness,” like that of Abraham to the three men in this Sunday’s first reading. The phrase “by courtesy” means “by favour or indulgence,” not by “inherent or legal right.”

We can say, therefore, that all God has done for us, he has done “by courtesy,” as Hilaire Belloc suggests in his poem “Courtesy”:

“Of courtesy, it is much less / Than courage of heart or holiness, / Yet in my walks it seems to me / That the grace of God is in courtesy.”

In particular, it is by courtesy that God remains with us in our churches, utterly at our disposal, under the appearances of bread and wine.

However, all too often our response is anything but courteous. Fatigue, work, sports, weather, or holidays are sufficient to make us miss Mass. When we go, we arrive late or at the last minute.

As we enter the church, we “cross ourselves,” but automatically, without thought. We greet friends as we hurry down the aisle. We genuflect as we enter the pew, but without even a glance toward the tabernacle, where God awaits us. Once in place, we kneel and bow our heads, but only for a moment before sitting back and chatting to friends. (Listen to the hum of conversation, none of which includes our host.)

Christ redeemed us from Satan by offering himself to his Father on the cross, once and for all. In the Mass, this sacrifice is sacramentally and really re-presented to us, its memory perpetuated and its saving power applied to our daily sins.

However, almost anything is enough to distract us from what is happening: a crying baby, someone’s clothes, our plans for the rest of the day. We stand on Calvary, at the foot of the cross, looking at our watches and wishing Jesus would not take so long to die. God has prepared a banquet for us, and we can hardly wait for it to be over. The Lord invites us to sit at his feet and listen to him, like Mary in the Gospel reading, but we are like Martha, with our minds on the many tasks that will face us once Mass is over.

We welcome any “entertainment” that makes the Mass “more interesting” – an amusing sermon, a rousing hymn, a round of applause for a birthday or anniversary – any variation that will make it “a nice Mass” and ease the monotony of what Alec Guinness satirically called “the same old thing”: the real presence of Christ on the altar, as usual.

At Communion, we encounter Jesus in an intimacy closer than anything possible between spouses, yet we pass over it with a few muttered prayers, afraid to stop talking in case the silence becomes too intimate. As soon as possible, we open our eyes and sit back to watch others or sing a hymn.

Imagine our spouse behaving like that!

We escape as soon as we can, inconspicuously, right after Communion; or after a moment’s kneeling, for form’s sake; or just before the announcements and the last hymn. We breathe a sigh of relief that another week’s duty is done.

If we do stay to the end, we feel we deserve the “Thank you” that some priests deliver as though they, and not God, were our host; as if they, and not God, had put on the banquet and issued the invitations; as if we had come to meet them instead of God.

“Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body,” the Church, surely include our lack of courtesy to him at Mass. However, his own courtesy never fails: he welcomes us even when we show clearly that we would rather be anywhere else.

I once read that a 100-year-old man, asked why he went to Mass every day, replied, “To please God; we owe it to God.”

I have always thought it a most courteous answer.

Fr. Hawkswell will again be teaching “The Catholic Faith in Plain English” free of charge weekly starting 2–4 pm, September 15, at the John Paul II Pastoral Centre (33rd and Willow, Vancouver); 11 am–1 pm, September 16, at St. Anthony’s Parish (2347 Inglewood, West Vancouver); 7–9 pm, September 16, at the John Paul II Pastoral Centre; and 7–9 pm, September 17, at St. Clare’s Parish (2888 Delahaye Drive, Coquitlam).