Between Flesh & Stone

A Homily for the 27th Week of Ordinary Time

What would you say is the size of the gap in you between flesh and stone?

In our gospel last week we heard the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. We heard how, after both men died, there existed, in the afterlife, this vast chasm between the two. And Abraham explains to the Rich Man that no one can cross that chasm from either side. The image seemed to indicate that the gaps, the divisions, the chasms we cultivate in this life, right here and right now, will also follow us in the life to come.

So again: What would you say is the current size of the gap in you between flesh and stone? Because the size of that interior gap likely coincides with the size of the divisions and chasms we might be cultivating in our own lives.

But why flesh and stone? Well, we hear in the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel about God’s desire to give each of us a heart of flesh, a heart that is humble, vulnerable, accessible, available. A heart that is human and humane. A heart willing to risk being broken. But sometimes, due to circumstances beyond our control, we learn slowly to let our hearts turn to stone as a means to protect ourselves in a world that can feel so chaotic and out of control. Or as a response to things that may have happened to us that we couldn’t stop. Perhaps we know too well those words of the Prophet Habakkuk:

“How long, O Lord? I cry for help

but you do not listen.

I cry out, ‘Violence’

but you do not intervene.

Why do you let me see ruin.

Why must I look on misery?”

Turning one’s heart into stone is a self-protective measure and maybe for a time it was wise, but eventually the gap within us between flesh and stone increases. As does the gap between ourselves and reality, ourselves and the world, ourselves and the people in our lives. At some point, once again, we have to take the risk and say: “Lord take away my heart of stone. Give me a heart of flesh.” We have to choose to narrow the gap. Because there is always reason to hope. As our scriptures remind us today:

The vision still has its time — So harden not your heart!

We are each called anew to stir into flame the gift of God dwelling in each of us — So harden not your heart!

Jesus calls us to move beyond the self-protective postures of simple response to command or fulfilment of obligation and we can only do that if we “Harden not our hearts!”

So, the spiritual practice, I would like to suggest today, is to, as the British might say: “Mind the Gap.”

Let’s find some time in the days ahead to make an honest assessment of the size of the gap in us between flesh and stone. And look at how it might be resulting in an ever-increasing divide between ourselves and the world and the people around us. But we need to refrain from self-judgment. It is of no use here. Instead, let’s cultivate curiosity. Ask yourself: Why am I hardening my heart and how can I find my way clear to receive again, the Gift of God: A heart of flesh?

Remember, no matter what we hear in the news: The vision still has its time. We each have a Gift of God within us, a spark to stir into flame, a stone to break into flesh. We all live somewhere between flesh and stone. So let us once again choose flesh and harden not our hearts.

Leave a comment