You might remember the burning of the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris several years ago. Christian or no, virtually all viewed it a great tragedy—Christians for the destruction of the medieval center of Gallic worship, and non-Christians of the loss of an almost irreplaceable work of art and historical relevance. The storied loveliness of Notre Dame of old was virtually unrivaled.
But have you ever seen the pre-fire underlying framings supporting a cathedral or other structure? Often it’s a mishmash of timbers, wooden or metal supports, nailed and tied together, often dusty and even trashy—anything but a vision of beauty. Just go into a modern house: we dress them up with “stuff”, but in the attic or basement may be found tangles of wires, ducts, trusses and supplementary supports, dust, construction scraps, insulation, etc.—not exactly where we take guests to be impressed! And yet, without all of that humble underlying support, the beautiful façade and the functions we enjoy would not be possible.
Now, in our human pride we tend to seek to acclaim, honor … the applause of the crowd. The athlete longs for the cheers of the arena, the scientist the acclaim of his peers and of society for some great discovery, the soldier for glory for courage, and even priests and ministers are rarely immune from blushing at praise for their holiness and/or oratory.
But whenever acclaim finds us, we need remember the framing upon which are supported: the athlete his coaches and family, the scientist his teachers and mentors, the soldier his trainers and examples, priests/ministers their seminary professors and guides … and all the grace of God in their lives, apart from which we can do nothing. (cf. John 15:5)
In the Catholic Mass of Sunday, October 20 this year, we read Mark 10 in which the apostle brothers James and John ask to sit in places of honor when Jesus comes into His kingdom. Ah, had they known how they would suffer in the future, would they have dared asked? Jesus hints at their future: “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” (v. 38) The brothers hastily say: “We can,” not foreseeing, of course, that James would be martyred by the sword, and John, while living a long life, would be persecuted) and banished to the island of Patmos.
Jesus was architect, teacher, and source of grace of the Christian faith that was to come; the building of that faith in those first centuries progressed supernaturally rapidly. As the great Jewish Pharisee Gamaliel noted: “… if this plan or this undertaking [of faith in Jesus] is of men, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them.” (Acts 5:38-39) And it is the apostles and other disciples who had witnessed Jesus and His teaching/works who first “framed out” the early Church contractors follow the architect’s plan of a house. That initial framing wasn’t always pretty, but 2000 years later the faith rests largely on their early construction. Without their testimony and efforts, the New Testament would not have been written … the field of the early faith lain fallow. But, spurred by faith, they literally worked to their deaths.
Did the apostles gain materially from their efforts? … hailed for their efforts? Hardly. They were all torturously slain except John, as were many others then and still today. They no doubt remembered Jesus’ teaching during the Mark 10 episode above: “… whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.” And why is that? Because “… the Son of Man [referring to Himself] did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
The world largely scoffs at such an attitude, but Christian discipleship, and true love of neighbor by anyone, is not found in seeking glory or honors or acclaim. True discipleship in Christ, and true love of neighbor—and thus our true humanity—consists of serving one another. Acclaim may come, but should not be sought by a follower of Christ. In fact, a constant seeking of attention and acclaim can be a type of spiritual “arrested development”.
Sometimes it is the unheralded discovery or the background player who may have the greatest impact. Similarly, it may be a simple kind word to someone who is low, or the hidden gesture or charitable assistance that makes a difference in another’s life. Or, O Christian, it may be unabashed faith in Jesus that sways the doubter … that converts the unbeliever … that softens the heart of one who hates … to the truths of faith and the love of God.
Scripture reminds us of the importance of the framing, as when we read of tradesmen: “All these rely upon their hands, and each is skillful in his own work. Without them a city cannot be established, and men can neither sojourn nor live there. Yet they are not sought out for the council of the people, nor do they attain eminence in the public assembly…But they keep stable the fabric of the world, and their prayer is in the practice of their trade.” (Sirach 38:31-34)
Humble service to God and neighbor: that is our calling as disciples, as human beings, and are the only things which bear true fruit. After all, do we not see that in those we admire … who give of themselves for others? Those who sacrifice their time and their goods—and even their lives—for their fellow man?
Jesus teaches: “ … when you have done all that is commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:10) What is that duty? St. Paul writes “… we are [God’s] workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” (cf. Ephesians) Consequently, as the old Catholic Baltimore Catechism taught: “God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the next.”
Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.



































