Tuesday of week 33 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
Saint Albert the Great, Bishop, Doctor
Apocalypse 3:1-6,14-22 | Psalm 14(15):2-5 | Luke 19:1-10
I know all about you: how you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth. (Apocalypse 3:15-16)
I love coffee.
There’s nothing quite like a good steaming mug of black joe, with aroma to delight the nose and a slight bitterness going down.
The ice kopi variant is also a sensual treat if done right. For that, I’d cross the Causeway to a secret kopitiam. (I might tell you where it is if you ask nicely.)
Anyway, I left yesterday morning’s cuppa a little too long on the kitchen counter, so when I finally got around to sipping it, it was lukewarm – and vile. I had to toss the entire half-liter, and rinse my mouth out in the kitchen sink.
✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞
The Lord’s complaint against the church in Laodicea might seem a bit odd at first glance. It’s obvious that He would want us to be “on fire” with the Spirit, but why would he be satisfied with “cold” hearts?
If we read “cold” as “untouched by the Spirit”, then this passage makes perfect sense. For those who have not received the Good News, there is hope that being touched by the Spirit may “warm” their cold hearts and raise their spirits to love. As the popular song goes, “it only takes a spark to get a fire going.”
But the “lukewarm” ones are those who have received the Spirit, yet don’t give a hoot. They are the ones who pay lip service to faith, coming to church “just in case” but spending the entire time shutting out the Spirit, and studiously avoiding involvement in parish life. Or perhaps they’ve drifted away completely, choosing to turn their backs on Christ.
Most of us know at least one Catholic to whom the above description applies. It might even be us; I was certainly among their number, once upon a time, until an accident knocked some spiritual sense into me. (In my case, it might even have been literal: I had a lump on the side of my head after the crash.)
It is to such folks that the Landings community tries to reach out and reconnect. If you personally know a lapsed Catholic, do encourage them to take this heaven-sent opportunity to rediscover the fire of Christ’s love in their hearts.
And if it’s we who need to reconnect, perhaps a prayer might help begin that journey:
Lord, I know You’re all around me, but I can’t feel You through the noise and chaos of daily life and its demands. Help me take the time to set aside the troubles of each day one by one, pushing them out of sight and mind.
Then, in the stillness and silence, help me hear Your quiet voice, leading me to You. Help me accept the healing touch of Your love that brushes off the thorny barbs of sin, pours healing water over my wounded soul, and clothes me in the white robes of salvation.
Amen.