I can pinpoint this particular moment when I unintentionally created a lot of problems for myself. I was a senior in college, getting very close to graduation. I sat in one of my engineering classes and I had this terrible thought that would haunt me for a long time. I thought, “People like us design airplanes.” Those five words plunged me into a massive sea of anxiety.
A few years later, I remember sitting on an airplane for a business trip. I was sweating and very uncomfortable, fearing that the plane, designed by people like me, would fall apart midair while we sailed through the clear calm air at 38,000 feet. I took my pulse: 170 beats per minute.
I knew that I had to fix this problem, this problem with my anxiety, because I didn’t want to go through life like this, especially since I had a job that required travel at times. So I decided to get my pilot’s license. I concluded: there must be something that I don’t know, since my fear that airplanes fall apart does not align with the evidence. Planes in fact almost never fall apart.
And I did learn a lot in the process of getting my pilot’s license. One thing that the instructors drill into your head relentlessly is that you must do your checklists every time without exception. For example, there’s a pre-flight checklist that you go through before flying the airplane. There were about 35 items on the list, and you would go through each of them carefully. The instructor claimed, “Take care of your airplane and it will take care of you.”
It always felt weird to hear that phrase, “it will take care of you,” but I went along with the concept at the time. The problem with that statement — take care of your airplane and it will take care of you — is that it’s not actually true. The airplane is a thing. It’s a machine, a non-thinking object. There’s no way to have a real relationship with a thing. We interact with things. We make use of them. But we don’t have a relationship with a thing. Things can’t take care of anyone, since they’re just doing whatever the laws of physics dictate. It will heartlessly do whatever it’s going to do, even if that results in bad things for humans. There’s not a meaningful relationship there.
But the Gospel is all about relationship, and this reading is no exception. In Mark chapter 13, in the story of the Son of Man coming in the clouds, Jesus tells us that he will be seen “coming in the clouds with great power and glory.” He will “gather his elect from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.”
This might seem like a really scary image — Jesus coming in the clouds with power and glory, the elect being gathered up. Generally speaking, most people don’t like random and uncontrolled things showing up out of nowhere that will then have a massive impact on their lives. Those that are gathered up are the elect. Those people are the ones that live with God in heaven for all eternity. The others don’t go to heaven, and they don’t live with God for all eternity. So whenever this happens, it will have a major impact on all.
When something is out of control and scary, the typical response is to find a way to add control. That will make it less scary. But what would that look like in this case? Well, some people want to change the way they relate to God. They want to convert their relationship with God into a checklist. If I do this list of tasks, then I can be certain that I will be among the elect. If someone falls to this temptation, they will then have a checklist relationship with God. For example, they might be tempted to merely go through the motions to check everything off their list, whatever that might be.
That’s a terrible thing if that happens. Because there is no actual relationship. It’s just about going through the motions. It turns God into a thing. It would be like saying, “If I take care of God, then God will take care of me.” It makes no sense.
Lucky for us, God has given us other relationships in our lives. We can experience those relationships and then learn from them to improve our relationship with God. For example, we can know what it’s like to be in a checklist relationship. Our relationship with our employer might sometimes be driven by a checklist. You give me this, this, and this, then I will give you a paycheck and let you come back next week.
That kind of relationship — it’s not a real relationship. They are not doing anything out of love for you, for example. It’s transactional. You give me this, I give you that.
Aside from those transactional experiences, we have other relationships that can be meaningful. When there is a healthy parent-child relationship, love plays a central role. It’s not about checking off items on a list. It’s about tuning in and doing what is good for the other person. Married life is not intended to be transactional. It’s not about having a list of things that each person has to do for the other. If that’s happening in a marriage, then it’s tragically lifeless. Checklists take over the space that love should fill.
Our relationship with God can be equally filled with love. When that happens, we give ourselves the opportunity to experience God and react in the moment. One common way that we experience God is through the people in our lives. If we are blinded by checklists, then we might not see the opportunities that we have right before our eyes to give and receive love.
This Gospel ends with a blessing. It says, “But of that day” — Jesus is talking about the gathering of the elect — “But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” How fortunate it is for us that God did not say that the elect are gathered at some particular time on some particular day. Because if that were the case, then we may be tempted to delay our efforts. Maybe we don’t care so much about fostering our relationship with God until we get real close to the end, the due date, if you will.
That would be like waiting to foster a relationship with your child or your spouse until you’re on your deathbed. That’s not a great time to start the process of building a relationship.
This Gospel is about our relationship with God. Having a real relationship where the interactions are based in love. Avoiding checklists and embracing the act of tuning into the other person and doing what’s good for them. It’s about avoiding delay in the growth of our relationship. It’s about doing it now.
If not knowing is unbearable, and a checklist has started to look like safety, start with the seat. People like us design airplanes. Years later the pulse was 170 in calm air. The fear did not match the evidence. Planes almost never fall apart. The checklist of 35 items was a real tool for a machine. It was not a relationship. Write the list you are using to make the unknown safe. Then write what the list cannot do. It cannot love you back.
Do the checklist if the thing in front of you is a machine. Pre-flight is for an airplane. Do not move that sentence onto God, or onto a spouse, or onto a child. “If I take care of God, God will take care of me” is the instructor’s line pointed at the wrong object. One day this week, do one loving thing that is not on the list. A call. A meal. Ten minutes with the person, without collecting it as proof you are among the elect.
The hour is not given. Waiting until you are certain is the delay this Gospel refuses. If the fear is in your body right now and you cannot get it down, that is not a failed checklist. Sit. Breathe. If you are in danger, call 988 or local emergency services. The pulse was information. It was not a relationship, and neither is the list.
This is a pastoral reflection, not clinical care and not a substitute for it. If you or someone you love is in immediate danger, call 988 or local emergency services.Drawn from a homily first preached in 2024.