Where are you on your journey?
Sir 35:12-14, 16-18; Ps 34:2-3, 17-18, 19, 23; 2 Tim 4:6-8, 16-18; Lk 18:9-14
I vividly recall the first time someone asked me to help them plan their own funeral Mass. It was an older woman who knew that she was nearing the end of her life.
I felt a bit unnerved and awkward, and I remember saying something to the effect of “Well, I’m sure we won’t need to use this for many years to come!” But to her great credit, she kindly cut me off and made it clear that this was important for her. I think she also knew it was important for me to experience, if I were ever to minister faithfully to the people of God.
A little over one year later, I had the privilege of celebrating her funeral Mass. The readings and hymns she had chosen (even the Eucharistic prayer and preface) were not selected primarily to memorialize the life she had lived, noteworthy though it was. She had been clear that she wanted her choices to reflect the way she perceived her relationship with God at this point in her life.
For her, that Mass was a ritual marking her transition point from this life to the next, and she wanted to accurately share with us her frame of mind and heart as she went forth to encounter God in this new way. I remember noting that her choices were neither rooted in the past, nor were they entirely looking forward. Rather, they were profoundly grounded in the present, inviting all of us at the service to reflect on our own current state of relationship with God.
I’m surfacing this memory because our second reading this Sunday presents Paul at a particularly poignant time in his life. Likely in prison, and much older and wearier than the brash man on the road to Damascus, he relates to his young charge, Timothy, exactly how he sees his own relationship with God and with the people around him. He sees himself as being offered as a sacrifice to God (“poured out like a libation”), which implies he knows he is pleasing to God.
He also knows that he is near the end of his life and that, because of his having “competed well” and having resolutely kept faith in Jesus Christ, he will soon be with him, wearing the victor’s “crown of righteousness” after his death. It’s the message of a man largely at peace with his place in God’s eyes and ready to be fully present to him.
As he prepares to take leave of Timothy, likely for the last time, it’s important to Paul that his friend forms an accurate picture of his mentor, not being swayed by either jealous rumors from his enemies or empty praise from his disciples.
Our reading comprises 2 Tim 4:6-8, and 4:16-18. It’s unfortunate that we cut out verses 4:9-15, because they offer a microcosm of Paul’s everyday relationships with his contemporaries. Some of those relationships are supportive, such as with Luke and Mark (2 Tim 4:11). But many are negative, such as with Demas, who deserted Paul (2 Tim 4:9), or with Alexander, who did Paul a “great deal of harm” (2 Tim 4:14).
Taken all together, these few verses paint a richly complex picture of a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ who devoted years of his life to proclaiming the Gospel — both when it was rewarding to do so and when it was difficult.
Like the woman who shared her funeral plans with me, Paul wanted to make sure that Timothy had an accurate understanding of where his missionary journeys had brought him at the end of his life. That understanding is what Timothy would be integrating into his own mission as Paul’s disciple, so it was important that he got it right.
Regardless of where you are on your life’s journey, how do you perceive your relationship with God at this moment? It is only the “present you,” in the here and now, who can relate to God.
If you were to share that self-perception with others, would they be surprised? If so, then pray for the courage to speak as freely as Paul. That’s your gift of faith to all who will listen.