FREE OF CHARGE (25th Sunday, Year B / Mk 9:30-37)

Two boys are having conversation. The first one says: “When I grow up, I would like to become like my dad who is a pilot. I can then touch the sky, cross the seas, and visit exciting places.” The second boy says: “When I grow up, I would like to earn millions of dollars, just like my dad.” Impressed and amazed, the first boy asks: “You mean your dad earns millions of dollars?” To which the second lad replied, saying, “No, but he would also like to earn millions of dollars.”

Dreaming of possibilities is part of growing up. When we were young, we wondered, wished, imagined, hoped. Looking back now we ask, what happened to the great dreams of our childhood? What happened to the Don Quixote in us who dared to defy the impossible and reach the unreachable? What had become of our pursuit to “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars?” “Those were the days, my friend,” we might have ended up singing now. But, really, some of us could still be heard belting out Aerosmith’s “Dream on until your dreams come true.”

It is natural. It is somehow human to wish loftily and achieve something great. The trouble though is that we often define success in terms of figures, numbers, possessions—materials and worldly things that could easily twist or distort the values of what we hope to achieve. Worse, we mistake being as having, and acquiring for living. We could be in a bind because whatever we might have obtained could disappear in an instant. For years we work for them, but abruptly and rudely they could vanish without warning. Examples of millionaires going bankrupt all too suddenly are many. Stories of celebrities or luminaries who lost their luster at the drop of hat are not uncommon. Beauty fades, power tumbles, even intelligence plunges. Everything comes to pass.

Still, we aspire to achieve something, make a name for ourselves, or leave a lasting legacy. Who among us would not be flattered to hear people saying nice things about us? True, we could feel embarrassed or uneasy, but pleased just the same. Propagation as a primary biological function, for example, fulfills our deepest psychological and anthropological need to become parents. Ask any of our young friends what they really, really need, and some them would say ‘family’; others would however say, ‘money’, while others, ‘more money’. But there are those who say ‘real friends’, or siblings, or home, or work, or a different work, or clothing, cars, vacation houses, etc.  But what about us , what do we really need? When everything else is taken away from us and we are stripped of the non- essentials, what are we left with?

In today’s gospel, Jesus made a prediction of his death. “The Son of Man is going to be handed over to men and they will kill Him.” He knew in advance that everything would be taken away from Him, including His own life, and that He would be stripped of His dignity and right to live. He made the same prediction in the last Sunday’s reading. He knew death was coming, but He was not going to run away. He knew what He needed, and He held on to it. For, even while He was still growing up, He already knew what He wanted to become, and so He was sticking to it. At the expense of His life, of course. But for Him, earthly life is just a bridge, a means to an end, a passage to go through in order to reach the ultimate goal: eternal life with the Father.

A story is told of young children who played football with so much joy that their laughter annoyed one particular grumpy man. The man then offered to pay them US$20 if they played as cheerfully and loudly as they could. The children were too happy to oblige. The next day, they did the same and the man paid them US$10. They initially thought of objecting for being paid less this time, but they decided not to complain. On the third day, they got even less (US$2) from the man for playing football very cheerfully and noisily, then US50 cents on the fourth day. On the fifth day, they stopped playing.

Many things can easily come in between us and our joy in life. Many things could steal our innate goodness, or even take away our faith in God. At first, our simple joy of helping others is evident and spending time with loved ones was heaven to us. Then materialism creeps in and we begin to monetize the value of our time, happiness, and relationships. Without realizing it, we become fearful, insecure, and egocentric. We are no longer capable of thinking first of the needs of others, or of glorifying God more than self, because our sense of achievement and greatness has been perverted. We have become self-absorbed.

Today’s gospel tells us thus: “If anyone wishes to be first; he shall be the last and the servant of all.” Then taking and placing a child in their midst, Jesus said to the disciples: “Whoever receives a child such as this in my name, receives me.”

We need to revisit the innocence of our childhood aspirations and revive the purity of human longing for God. We need to reexamine and unlearn the values which pride and arrogance taught us, and regain the simple joy of living and of wanting to be great, not for ourselves, but for the Lord and for others.

Christ has already paid for our salvation with His life. In effect, joy, hope, charity, peace and other important things in life come to us free of charge. It is only when we start selling them, put price tag on them, or think first of our needs that they become expensive, elusive, and beyond our grasp.