23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time: I Have Appointed You Watchman

Today we hear from the prophet Ezekiel. You may know the name, but perhaps little else about him. He lived about 600 years before the birth of Jesus, during the period of their 50-year exile in Babylon. In addition to being a prophet, Ezekiel was a priest. But as prophet, he received amazing visions of God and of God’s plan to restore His people. And part of that plan of restoration meant that the people would need to reform their hearts, change their ways of living. As God’s prophet, it was Ezekiel’s task to instruct them and keep an eye on them.

“I have appointed (you) watchman for the house of Israel; when you hear me say anything, you shall warn them for me.” In other words, “If you don’t blow the horn and warn the wicked person of how they must change, you will be responsible for whatever happens to them”—not a desirable task, and undoubtedly his warnings were not always well received.

Just a couple days ago, we celebrated the memorial of St. Gregory the Great. He was born in the year 540, so by this point, the city of Rome was in decline, no longer the glorious center of the empire. Gregory came from a wealthy and influential family, having access to education and opportunity. He served as a public official for the Roman government.

Some years later though, he left it all behind and entered religious life as a Benedictine monk. At last, he found real peace, declaring it the happiest stage of his life. Eventually though, his education and administrative capacities were called upon for the good of the larger church. Gregory served as asked, while maintaining his life as a monk. But it was in 590, at age 50, that he was elected pope. With trepidation, he accepted it, proving to be a true shepherd-pastor in his efforts to ensure care for the poor and the sick, in his reforms of the priesthood, and in his balance between being an administrator but also the spiritual head.

In one of his sermons, he reflected on the words God had declared to Ezekiel: “I have appointed (you) watchman for the house of Israel”. While accepting the task as watchman for the people of God, in his heart, Gregory just wanted to be a monk, and furthermore, he felt inadequate for the task:“A watchman always stands on a height so that he can see from afar what is coming…a watchman for the people must stand on a height….How hard it is for me to say this, for by these very words I denounce myself.….I do not live my life according to my own preaching.

“…when I was in the monastery, I could curb my idle talk and usually be absorbed in my prayers. Since I assumed 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…and (must watch for) the wolves who lie in wait for my flock. I must become an administrator lest the religious go in want. 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 the ministry of proclaiming the Gospel? Moreover, in my position I must often communicate with worldly men….And because I too am weak, I find myself drawn little by little into idle conversation, and I begin to talk freely about matters which once I would have avoided. What once I found tedious I now enjoy….So who am I to be a watchman, for I do not stand on the mountain of action but lie down in the valley of weakness?”

As I consider of Gregory’s humble confession, I think of the reality that God calls each of us to be watchmen for the well-being and welfare for each other, brothers and sisters. The fact is, at this moment we have no shortage of loud voices declaring how others should reform, but it seldom seems to have neither honest self-reflection nor the well-being of the other in mind. It seems that so much of what is behind the finger pointing is self-interest.

To love, as hear it sometimes defined, is to will the good of the other as other. As we continue to sort through the complex issues of our day in society and in politics, and as we give voice to what we regard as truth—whether pontificating to those of our like-minded group or shouting at our TV screens—may humility lead us to evaluate our motives to see if they are honest, but also motivated by genuine love.

McKenzi VanHoof