22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time (Gregory the Great)

Roughly 600 years before Jesus’ birth, the prophet Jeremiah was told to proclaim God’s stern message to the Jewish people. Jeremiah didn’t ask for this responsibility, and didn’t particularly want it, but nonetheless, he accepted God’s will. For it, he suffered great punishment and received death threats. Having had enough, he declared: “I will not mention (God), I will speak in his name no more”.

          If we are truly open to what God is calling us to and if we begin to carry it out, it will bring causes for fear, rejection, and hardship. As Jesus says to us today: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it”. But we also know that this obedient response leads to something meaningful beyond the hardship.

          I found myself considering the life of a saint whose memorial we celebrate today (Sept 3rd). We commonly know him as Gregory the Great. Gregory came of age about a hundred years after the once-glorious city of Rome had fallen. He was born in 540, into a wealthy and noble Roman family. Gregory was well educated and developed talent in administration. He followed in his father’s footsteps, serving as prefect for the city of Rome (a city official).

At that time, there was a new religious movement emerging in the area, started by a man named Benedict. It incorporated a body of rules, serving as structure for life centered around prayer, solitude, and intentional community life—what we commonly call monasticism.

In contrast to the chaos and noise of the world—including Roman society—this way of life attracted many, including Gregory. When his father died, Gregory converted his family home into a monastery. He resigned from his life of public service and became a monk. He would later refer to those next fifteen years, as a monk, as the happiest of his life. Yet, because of his education and administrative experience, he would eventually be called upon to carry out important responsibilities, including being appointed abbot (father) of his monastic community.

If you recall, Jeremiah was called to his prophetic office about 600 years before the birth of Jesus. It was about 600 years after the birth of Jesus that Gregory was called to the office of Peter, to be pope. He was mortified. Though obedient, he grieved, longing for the peace and solitude of monastic life:“Now, by reason of my pastoral care,….I sigh as one who looks back and gazes on the shore he has left behind.”

          For the next 14 years as pope, Gregory balanced being an administrator and a spiritual leader. In addition to much needed reform within the Church, he was well known for his attention and care for those in crisis, whether refugees fleeing persecution, the sick and dying in times of plague and famine. He even saved the table from his family home to be used by the poor whom he would invite to eat with him.

Much like Jeremiah, who suffered greatly for carrying out God’s call, so did Gregory. As he describes: “When I was in the monastery I could curb my idle talk and usually be absorbed in my prayers. Now that I have taken on the burden of pastoral care, my mind can no longer be collected; it is concerned with so many matters.

“I am forced to consider the affairs of the Church and of the monasteries. I must weigh the lives and acts of individuals. I am responsible for the concerns of our citizens. I must worry about the invasions of roving bands of barbarians and beware of the wolves who lie in wait for my flock….I must put up with certain robbers without losing patience and at times I must deal with them in all charity.

“With my mind divided and torn to pieces by so many problems, how can I meditate or preach wholeheartedly without neglecting (my administrative role)? ….I must often communicate with worldly men. At times I let my tongue run, for if I am always severe in my judgments, the worldly will avoid me….As a result I often listen patiently to chatter. And because I too am weak, I find myself drawn little by little into idle conversation and begin to talk freely about matters which once I would have avoided.”

“So who am I to be a (shepherd for this Church) for I don’t stand on the mountain, but lie down in the valley of weakness.”

In my experience I found that there are two questions that are at the heart of where sin resides in our life. They require honest and prayerful reflection. The first question is: What is it God is calling me toward, to start doing, knowing that when I do, it will lead me deeper into life with him, and yet fear keeps me trapped from doing it? The second question is: What is God calling me to stop doing, to set it down and leave it behind, knowing that when i do i will be more freed for him, and yet fear prevents me from doing so?

 Are you willing to listen to how God would call you? Are you truly open to it? Do you trust that as you deny yourself for Jesus, take up your cross and follow, that you will genuinely save your life? And even more, do you trust that you will more likely save others?