Another volcanic eruption in Iceland is hardly earth-shattering news, pun intended; but there have been stray reports and, as is now common, abundant video footage of the belching and blooming fire and smoke gushing from a fissure in what we usually consider to be solid ground.
Now, fire hot enough to melt rock is something most people would recognize as dangerous and destructive, and direct human contact with it would afford no second chances or first aid, only incineration and annihilation. But there they are, in every video and photo, right up at the very edge of the flow of the glowing molten earth: spectators. People watching, photographing, recording, admiring, and somehow enjoying being close enough to feel the heat coming from this inexorable and insensate destroyer.
Awesome and astonishing as this eruption surely is, the unpredictable, unmanageable mortal danger somehow does not deter but rather enhances the attraction for the fragile thrill-seekers.
This week, the Sixteenth in Ordinary Time, the daily Mass readings have been from the Book of Exodus, and Wednesday we heard about God’s gift of manna to the hungry, grumbling people of Israel (ch. 16), and then Thursday about His manifesting Himself to them in fire, smoke, and earthquake on Mount Sinai (ch. 19). These are but two episodes, albeit especially dramatic and memorable ones, of the Living God teaching the Israelites, and through them all the world, Who and how He is.
For the merry and valiant band of daily Mass-goers (that day I had the 6:30 AM), I wondered at the juxtaposition of those two lessons, the manna and the menace, as we came to the Holy Mountain to be fed, in our hunger and our grumbling, and to be taught, in our ignorance and speculation, Who and how the Living God is. Both deeds He repeats day in, day out, at our summons in fact, in the act of Eucharist. He comes in His flesh that He offers as food, manifested in the sacrifice of His Son, the Love Who is God. We leave refreshed and restored, rather than rattled and reproved.
What if, I wondered, what if in a moment of petulance, what if as a refresher of memory, what if the Living God were to resort to some of the same theatrics He used all those years ago to draw the attention and devotion of the ancient Israelites? What if the belching fire and billowing smoke, the trembling of the earth itself and the terrifying trumpet were to sound to announce His presence and activity in the saving sacrifice of the Mass? The sacrifice that day on Calvary, you will recall, was not without its “Sensurround” aspects.
Picture a weekday rush hour, quiet for the summer, disrupted on University Boulevard just east of Colesville Road. Picture in the eye of your mind cars stopping, some fleeing, some colliding. Imagine the response of first responders, as police, fire and rescue are dispatched; how long before a helicopter or three begins to circle overhead? Will the tactical response team arrive, and mobile command posts roll? Will they evacuate the President, Congress and the government?
And then, after all this, how many will come, how many will draw near because of the menace, because of the danger? How many will be drawn to what causes others to flee? How many people will there be, watching, photographing, recording, admiring, and somehow enjoying being close enough to feel the heat? And, the real question is, would they get the point? Would they make the connection? Would they recognize the Living God then?
In a word: nah. It wasn’t enough then, and it won’t be enough now. In the New Dispensation, the earth-shattering power of God is hidden in earthly things, but can be seen by those who have eyes to see, because they have ears to hear. But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. (Mt 13:16-17)
And for those who are drawn to danger, who look for drama and destruction, that too is not wanting. For as the Preface of the Holy Eucharist reminds us, Christ conveyed to His Apostles, that is, to His Church and to us, the sacrifice of the Mass establishing for the ages to come, the saving memorial of the Cross. And there, in the Cross of Jesus that He begs us to take up, there is danger and destruction aplenty. Who will come?
For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers entreat that no further messages be spoken to them. … Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, "I tremble with fear." But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks more graciously than the blood of Abel. See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less shall we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. (Hebrews 12:18-19, 21-25)
For here, on the Holy Altar, is laid out for you the sacrifice that darkened the skies and tore the temple curtain in two. But it seems that for most folks, and even most of us, that is hardly earth-shattering news.
Monsignor Smith
