I had the chance to fly in the co-pilot’s seat of a small airplane on a few trips.  The panel in front of you has a series of dials and gadgets and radios – enough to keep your eyes busy for a while.  But the Loran Radio was the most interesting piece of all.  It served as the auto pilot.  And since there are the equivalent of ‘traffic lanes’ in the sky, the pilot would pre-program the first three turns that had to be made.  Once you were airborne, a punch of a small button started the auto pilot, and the plane pretty much ‘flew itself’.  However, you did have to watch the read outs, because there is no warning beep or bell to tell you that you just missed punching in the second or third turn, and were still continuing on the straight line course.  My friend and I were yakking away and missed our third turn one flight, and it wasn’t until air-traffic control gave us a ‘friendly reminder’ that we have deviated from our flight path that we realized – oops – we missed our turn. A quick request to vector directly to the next turn instead of turning around to retrace our flight was approved and the rest of our flight was uneventful.  Auto-pilot - it is a great invention for flying.  

It is not, however, such a good invention for our living or our discipleship.  It is easy to get into the rhythm of live.  We kind of hit a stride in our job, in our family, in our neighborhoods and communities.  We know our roles, what we do, when to do it and how to do it.  If we are doing it well, life becomes “automatic” as it were.  There is not a whole lot of thought needed, not a lot of reflection needed.  Things are going well, why change.  Life can easily slide into the auto-pilot mode.   

That was the trap that the chief priests and elders seemed to have fallen into in the gospel.  They knew the right answer to Jesus’ question about who did the will of the father.  Of course it is the one who changed his mind and went to work – that was the one who did the will of the father.  But they didn’t punch the button the make the turn in their own lives.  We’re heading in this direction.  We enjoy our synagogue service.  We’re the elders of the community.  We worship God.  We’re doing it right.  Things are fine and smooth.  Why push the button to take us off of autopilot? 

That got me to thinking:  How often am I on “liturgical auto-pilot?”  It is good to come together each Saturday or Sunday.  (or daily)  It is good to sing the hymns, hear the readings, listen to or preach the homily.  Put my gift in the collection.  Pray along with the Eucharistic prayer.  Go to communion.  Reflect for a moment.  Receive the blessing.  And then go home.  All of this without ever connecting to God!  Without ever expecting to meet the living God in a way that could change my life!  And that is such a dangerous place to be, whether you are a priest or a loyal parishioner.  Autopilot does NOT work when you are trying to be a disciple, trying to worship the LIVING GOD.  And I, perhaps like many of you, have been on auto-pilot liturgically.   

Fortunately, we all have the same air-traffic controller – Jesus, who is pretty good at breaking into our lives and telling us it is time to make a turn, time to make a change.  Invite you for the rest of this mass and for all the masses to come – to do two things: 

1) Come EXPECTING GOD to reveal something to you.  It might be one sentence of the reading, one thought in the homily, one line from one of the hymns, one phrase from the Eucharistic prayer.   LISTEN FOR IT.  Wait for it.  And when it comes, let that be the focus of your prayer and your encounter with the living God. 

2) Enter into the silent moments of mass – that pause between the readings, the time after the homily, or when you’ve returned to your seats after receiving communion.  And in those pauses, in those quiet moments, make your own emptying to God that Paul speaks of in that second reading – Just as Jesus emptied himself by an act of the will to God, open your hands and heart and place yourself in God’s hands with this simple prayer:  “Here I am Lord, here I am…” 

Auto pilot is great for airplanes.  But it is not so good for a disciple.  May we have the courage to turn that button off in our hearts – so as to meet the living God here at the altar…