We Can Be Easily ‘Broken Into’

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Last week we heard that the man in the parable who built new barns for his big harvest failed to think of one very important matter: he was going to die.  And therefore, what he did with the end of his life was very foolish.  Hopefully, this has helped us to reflect about our life and to see that often we make similar mistakes.

It is striking this week that the parable speaks of the coming of Jesus as a thief.  “Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour when the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into.  You must also be prepared for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”  Our lives are very fragile, and they are easy to be “broken into”.  It could be sudden death, or loss of a job, or a change in our health, or a fight with someone close to us.  Often these things “break into” our lives and turn things upside down.

For Jesus to call himself a thief is very shocking and perhaps that is his intention.  Deep down don’t we all act as if our lives belong to us?  Anyone who sits in my chair or uses something of mine better beware because this attitude is deep in me.  Little kids are less polite about it; they grab the toy or the spoon and scream: this is mine!

The saints lived this self-surrendering to a heroic degree, even humorously.  St. Therese of Lisieux in the last few months of her short life, used this phrase playfully and often.  In early June of the year she died (1897) she said, “Oh, how I would love to help the Thief.”  When she was painfully coughing up blood due to tuberculosis in July, her sister Pauline, the mother superior, said, “Are you afraid the Thief is at the door?”  She responded, “No, he’s not at the door, he’s already come in.  How can you ask me if I’m afraid; how could I be afraid of someone I love so much?”  A few days later, after another coughing fit, she said, “No one can make me last one minute longer than the Thief wants.”  At the end of July, she tells Pauline jokingly about becoming a thief herself: “I’ll steal many things from heaven and bring them to you.”  She also sang a little jingle: “The Thief will come, hurrah, and take me away, hurrah, alleluia.”

This playfulness was in the midst of constant and excruciating pain as her lungs were filling with blood.  Her other sister Celine, also a nun, recorded just before her death: “I can’t go on…I can’t…and yet I must go on…I am…I am reduced to nothing…I…would never have believed you could suffer so much…never, never.”  Then at the moment of death, “My God…I love you!”  To speak at all was immensely difficult.  We see how this gospel was fulfilled in her flesh.  She took the words “stay awake” to heart.  She didn’t want to miss her Lord.  She didn’t want him to break into her house, so she flung the gates open.  This was the fruit of her love to the One she owed everything.  He death was her ultimate Baptism.  She was twenty -four years old.

Jesus does not say, “Blessed are those servants who when I return, I want to see you praying, preaching, teaching, studying or serving.”  He only asks that we be waiting, that we be watchful.  That we see our life without Him is empty, is darkness.  If you are suffering from a physical pain or bad relationship, blessed are you because you see the emptiness of the world.  Turn to the Lord and ask his help to be open to him.  One day Jesus will also come for us, brothers and sisters, so be ready for him by spending time with him each day, by confessing our sins every few months, by receiving the Eucharist every week, by helping others.

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