I did not find today’s readings too promising at first. But I think that there is an underlying connection between them. And the issue is rough for me. It might be the central issue in the whole New Testament, perhaps even in the whole Bible as well. It is expressed here in the issue that so agonised the early Jesus movement: namely, who was a real Jew? Because what Jesus effectively did was redefine what it was to be a Jew. And so there were some Jews who thought that he had defined it correctly, and some who thought that he did not define it correctly. And even after his followers came to believe that he had been raised from the dead, this argument went on and on, certainly until the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70. And then it was definitively settled with Constantine saying that Christianity was the Roman Empire's official religion.

But this problem of who is in and who is out is the crucial problem. And Jesus of course got into trouble by constantly stretching the boundaries...by saying that those people whom you think are most remote are in. And this is what this business of Luke is about. This very obscure passage from Isaiah involves God bringing all of these pagans into the chosen people. And then, I presume that the cost of doing this is why they chose this passage from the Letter to the Hebrews about suffering.

I do not like this passage from Hebrews very much because I think that the model that they use of us people as children being disciplined by God as father is not particularly helpful today. It may have worked in a patriarchal society two-thousand years ago but I am not so sure it works very well for us. But the issue is the crucial issue of suffering. And what we get out of the New Testament of course is that the opening of boundaries is precisely going to entail suffering. This is so different from the notion of suffering that I grew up with in the Church. Then the pain was to continue to stand up for certain Catholic things: you did not eat meat on Friday; you did go to Mass under pain of mortal sin; and sex of course was the absolute taboo etc. And to resist all of those things was the source of suffering and that is...well, folks, that is an altogether inadequate way of understanding what suffering is all about. Suffering is simply the process of enlarging one's heart and boundaries and becoming more encompassing. That is what it is, and that is the only thing that legitimates suffering in its Christian form, allowing more people in.

The bombings of these past weeks remind us of the nature of fundamentalism, whether it is Roman Catholic, Moslem, Hindu, or Buddhist etc. It is precisely to narrow, to circumscribe to de-legitimate the humanity of "the other". And so, we can take some sort of message from our own time: that presumably, if you offer greater amplitude for your concern and your heart, then that is going to cost you. But I would like to shift just slightly to this business of costingness, because I think that this is really problematic today.

I was talking to Peter on the way in about the question: "Do I have to go to church?" I remember, when I was a little older than Peter, resisting, and absolutely leaving the whole operation. What I want to get to is this: I think that we are living in a society where this issue - - whether one attends church or not - - is increasingly aggravated because it is impossible to find some kind of legitimate reason for saying no to oneself. Now, of course people Peter's age have a larger issue, a larger problem with doing that than we supposedly more mature types. But what I am trying to get at, and not saying it very clearly I am afraid, is that suffering arises precisely from being able to say no to oneself. I do not necessarily want to go to church all of the time either, Peter, believe me. But I know, and with considerably more years than you have, that this is necessary for me. I need this and I have to resist myself. I have to resist my impulses to say, "No, I want my life to be manageable and tidy. I want to have these people in it and these people outside of it. I want these responsibilities and I do not want these responsibilities. I want to be comfortable! I want life to be fun and easy!" Now understandably, this does not solve Peter's problem or the problem of J.P. or a a whole bunch of the other kids who are feeling very restive about Mass. Because Mass is not built for kids and often enough we adults have not shown that Mass attendance is a particularly grown-up thing to do. And for that we owe the kids at least some attention. (There are many other larger problems: how do you articulate, that is, how you symbolize this appetite for growth in little kids today. I do not know how you do that, I am having a hard enough time doing it for myself.) But to suffer means first of all, again, to break open the narrowness of my range of concern and awareness and to be able to say no to my constant tendency to restrict and constrict and to look out for my own interests above all, first, all of the time.

And then Peter and J.P. and anybody else who is feeling uncomfortable about being here and would much rather be outside, you need to hear this because unfortunately I do not think that this is announced anywhere else in our world. That is, that we are supposed to embrace everybody. We do not do it very well...we do not symbolise it for ourselves and for our children. The Church, unfortunately, seems to be getting narrower and narrower and this is a source of great distress to many of us. Theologians have been roundly criticised, if not condemned, two weeks ago, and now even the bishops are told to sing out of the same book. It is a real problem. There is a whole host of problems but that is why even coming here today, not listening to me, but rehearsing the life of that man who says, "I am here for everybody," is crucial, because there really is not anywhere else where we can do this, at least not that I can see.