"Then every scribe who has been instructed in the Kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old." - Matthew 13:52
During these past weeks of unbearable heat in New Jersey, my husband Jim and I have enjoyed a late evening walk in our neighborhood to escape our air conditioned, shades-drawn cocoon. We took an alternative route the other day and came across a construction site where only recently there had been a shabby abandoned building. What new enterprise was afoot? Delightful possibilities that would spruce up our rather drab light industrial park environs came dancing into view. A bistro? An ice cream shop? A favorite fantasy: a small tea shop and independent bookstore? No, said my friend on the town council. A self-service storage facility is on its way, one of the fastest-growing franchise ventures in the country. Even though they might be downsizing, folks are apparently still reluctant to let go of their stuff. Bring on those storerooms!
Our Gospel today closes out the 13th chapter of Matthew devoted to Jesus' primer on "the Kingdom of God is like...." This week we have heard of the wheat and weeds, treasures buried in fields, pearls of great price, good and bad fish, and, today, storehouses filled with old and new. In this shortest of Jesus' parables the lessons remain enigmatic, but Biblical commentaries point out that in Matthew's community, authentic scribes were those teachers who would honor both the old (the Law and the prophets) and the new (the mandate and witness of Jesus the Christ).
In the Ignatian practice of contemplation, we are invited to claim our inner 'scribe' -- to ask for God's spirit of discernment in knowing when to let go of the old -- old shame, guilt, blaming, self-pity, resentments, and grudges. We also celebrate the 'old' memories of grace and goodness in our lives well-lived -- responding in deep gratitude for God's faithful and abiding presence in all the roads taken and not taken, knowing we are always being held in tender care by our God who is for us.
And we ask for hope and trust in the new -- letting go of anxieties, fears, or doubts, letting go of anything that would block us from the invitation to our beautifully unfolding future where God's greatest work still awaits us.
However, seeing the enormity of the storage units rising like a Phoenix in my neighborhood, I must confess I was reminded initially not of St. Ignatius but of Sr. Jose Hobday. Do you remember her? A Sister of St. Francis and a Seneca tribe elder, she was a popular presenter on prayer, spirituality, and simple living. (She was celebrated as a 'great teacher of downward mobility' at her death in 2009.) I heard her speak once of her wardrobe strategy. Refusing to own no more than three dresses which were rotated and then only replaced when one wore out, she traveled lightly through the world, ready to move at once to God's call and mission. Three dresses.... no storage unit needed.
Perhaps we too can pray today to be released from the grip of possessions, privileges, and illusions -- any of the hallmarks of a fulfilled life (or so we think) that we would be bereft without them. Let us pray for the courage and imagination to use our newly opened spaces for building the Kingdom of Heaven in this time and place. Both Ignatius and Sr. Jose would be proud.