Food for Thought (17th Sunday, cycle B)

Growing up, my parents had a way of verbally highlighting what was most important; they would repeat the command, task, expectation, or whatever it was so that we knew it was important. You might be able to plead ignorance of what they had said once, maybe twice, but by the time they reached the third repetition, you knew you’d better pay attention. Starting today, that is exactly what the Church is doing for us in regards to the Eucharist. For the next five weeks, the Church will invite us to explore chapter 6 of St. John's Gospel. This section of John’s writing is often called the “bread of life discourse”, and in it we have an opportunity to reflect more deeply on the greatest gift that Christ has given us, the gift of himself in the Eucharist. These precious verses have been explored, prayed with, and studied for 2000 years and still we have not exhausted their richness. In order that we don’t get overwhelmed by the theological buffet which is laid out in front of us, let’s focus on one element for this week. The common thread in both the first reading and the gospel is food. 

In the first reading from the Book of Kings, the Prophet Elisha is given 20 barley loaves by an unknown man. God commands him to use these 20 loaves to feed 100 people. Elisha objects, realizing that this is not enough food. God says just be quiet and do it; not only will there be enough but there will even be leftovers. Of course this is what happened. A skeptical person might try to downplay this miracle. Maybe the loaves were very large, like party subs from subway or maybe the 100 people were on a diet or didn’t like that type of bread.

In the case of Jesus there can be no doubt. He uses 5 barley loaves and 2 fish to feed 5000 men, plus their wives and children. An impressive miracle to be sure, but Jesus does not intend it as a one-time marvel. He takes the bread and gives thanks before distributing it. “Giving thanks" in Greek is Eucharist - the word we use for the Mass. Perhaps you know this already, the form of the Mass as we are celebrating it right now, right here in little Shrewsbury, is virtually unchanged since the second century. 

St. Justin Martyr, writing about 150 A.D., describes Christians gathering on Sunday. They listened to readings from the Hebrew Scriptures and the Gospels, followed by a homily. Then come prayers, an offering of bread and wine, a consecration prayer using Jesus’ words at the Last Supper. A deacon helps with Communion and after the service, takes Communion to the sick. And no Sunday Mass would be complete without a collection! St. Justin gives an exhortation to share with those in distress - the sick, the imprisoned, all those in need. Justin Martyr underscores that Jesus wants to feed us with his word and with the Eucharistic sacrifice. Beginning this Sunday and continuing for the next 4 weeks, we will see different dimensions of that sacrifice we know as the Eucharist. 

Food has three main purposes. First, to repair and refuel the body. Hippocrates, the father of medicine, said, "Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food." Jesus, the Bread of Life, heals us. The second purpose of food is social: it unites people. Studies show that if a family has dinner together - even once or twice a week - it reduces the risk that children will engage in destructive behaviors. Likewise, your attendance at Mass, the best of family meals, can have a powerful effect. Third, food brings joy. Is there anything better than delicious food (I’m thinking of my mom’s potato salad and pumpkin pie), especially when we are sharing with family and friends whom we love? Junk food and bad diets fail one or more of these criteria and as a result, become damaging and dangerous.

In both miracles today, God says to people around him, “give me the food you have. I don’t care if it seems too little or insignificant. Give me what you have and I will make it more than enough for what you need; in fact, there will even be leftovers for others!” Isn’t this true today? A little plate of plain wheat wafers and a small carafe of wine will become the spiritual food and drink that will give you the strength to forgive, to hope, to love, to pray, and to serve. Can it be anything other than a miracle that this seemingly insignificant food and drink has empowered saints, emboldened martyrs, and softened the hardest hearts?!

Everyone needs food to survive and because we are wonderfully made, everyone feels hungry as a reminder that it is time to eat. But our bodies are not the only part of us that experience hunger. Our mind and our soul also need to be fed consistently with wholesome nutrients if they are to remain healthy and growing. We must have some sort of meal plan for our mind and soul if we want to flourish as an integrated and fully-alive human. 

For these five weeks, we have the opportunity to think about what it means when Jesus says, “I am the bread of Life.” We can appreciate the fact that he promises to be our food; to nourish our body, mind, and spirit. We might also ask for the courage and honesty to look at what we consume right now as food and drink for our body. Does it bear the three qualities of repairing, uniting, and bringing joy? Or is it an escape, an indulgence, or an afterthought that we treat with indifference, irritation, and laziness?

More importantly, what are we feeding our mind and soul? Are we feeding them at all or are they on a starvation diet? If we ate as often as we prayed, would we survive? Would our body have any strength at all? Are we taking time to enrich our minds with wholesome reading, hobbies, and continued education? Do we try and learn something new each day about ourselves and our world? Or are we passively allowing ourselves to be fed by the junk food of reality tv, buzzfeed quizzes, or other diversions that entertain but fail to enrich and satisfy.

If we want to be healthy and holy, we must attend to the needs of body, soul, and mind. Jesus offers to be our food to feed all three. He is the only food that will satisfy you completely and forever. And he will give not only enough for your own needs, but there will also be leftovers for you to share with others who are hungry and weak and in need of nourishment.

The Lord is My Shepherd (16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B)

There is a lot of talk of shepherds in the readings today. In our first reading, Jeremiah condemns the false shepherds who have not cared for their people. He warns that they will be punished by God for the evil they have done. The good news, Jeremiah prophesies, is that God will raise up a loving shepherd to care for his people. The we heard the beautiful psalm 23, a statement of trust in God who is the true and perfect shepherd. And in our gospel today, we see genuine, loving shepherds as we read about the return of the Apostles from their first mission and the compassionate heart of Christ as he teaches the crowd. These are beautiful readings; ones which have comforted generations of Christians. In order for us to fully appreciate the power of our gospel today and its significance for our own lives, we have to understand the situation of Jeremiah and the importance of his prophecy.

            Jeremiah was living in Israel around the sixth century BC. He was a prophet for the Lord’s people but he was largely ignored. At the time of Jeremiah, the kingdom of Israel was on its last leg due to the moral corruption of her kings. Since the beginning of the monarchy, with King Saul, some five centuries earlier, this had been a constant problem. In fact, the very institution of the monarchy was a result of Israel’s lack of faith in God. As God’s people saw other kingdoms around them with their kings and wealth, they wanted to be just like them. Instead of being led by God and his prophets and judges, they wanted to be led by a king, just like their pagan neighbors. The judge and prophet Samuel, warned against establishing a monarchy. He realized the danger of power, the weakness of the human heart, and our tendency towards sin. He knew that it was easy for people to put too much trust in a human leader rather than God. And so, around 1000 BC, many years before Jeremiah, and before the first king took the throne, Samuel prophesied that the kings of Israel, who were supposed to protect God’s people, would in fact abuse them, enslave them, rob them, and misuse their kingly power. Reading through the Old Testament, we see this to be true, from the first king to the last.

            Which brings us back to Jeremiah and his condemnation of the false shepherds, who are the corrupt kings of Israel. God promises, through Jeremiah, that he will appoint a true shepherd and holy king who will care for his people and bring peace and security. That shepherd and king is Christ, the Son of God. We see the depth of Jesus’ compassion, as he looks out on the people who have gathered to hear him and his heart is moved with pity for them because they are spiritually lost and hungry, like sheep without a shepherd. And although Jesus and his apostles were tired and hungry, they taught the people, they cared for them and fed them both spiritually and physically. In short, they embodied the true shepherds described by the prophet Jeremiah.           

  

2500 years after Jeremiah, we face some of the same problems. Like Israel, we want to be prosperous and powerful, like the generations before us. We desire good and compassionate leaders who will care for us and look out for our best interests. As a result, we place our trust in people to lead and protect us. This, in itself, is a necessary thing. But if we start placing our faith in our political leaders, trusting that they will be the ones to fulfill us, that they will shower us with blessings and prosperity, that they will solve societies’ problems and help bring about heaven on earth, we will always be disappointed.

More often than not, these days, people are suspicious of institutions and authority. For our time, the greater temptation is to be self-shepherded; to place one's trust in oneself. We are encouraged by society and inclined by original sin to try and guide ourselves towards happiness and salvation.  

Perhaps the question we need to reflect on this week (and I am including myself) is this: What or who is my shepherd? What leads me and guides my decisions? In what do I place my trust? Is it in myself, my talents, my plans, or my resources. Do I rely on my finances to be my shepherd? Or my career? Or my popularity? Or my possessions? Maybe I am led by something more sinister or negative. Perhaps, deep down, I am guided by guilt, self-hatred, fear, resentment, or addiction? We might not think of these things as our shepherds, but if they are the force that drives us, then that is what they are.    

We can choose any shepherd we like; Jesus respects our freedom. But only one shepherd can protect us and fulfill what we truly need. This one, true shepherd is Christ. When we cry out, he comes to us, when we search for him, he is there to help us, and when we are in danger, he is there to protect us. But the most marvelous thing of all is when we wander off and stray away from him, he seeks us out and calls us back to him. Through the timeless teaching of the Church, by the Eucharist and the sacrament of reconciliation, he continues to be the Good Shepherd we need and desire.

So make it easy on yourself! Don't subject your life to heartache and disappointment by making people or worldly powers the shepherd that leads you. Don't try to do it by yourself; not a single one of us has all the wisdom or answers necessary to enter the Kingdom of heaven. Allow yourself to be healed, to be fed, to be led by Jesus and then you will be able to say confidently the words of our psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.”

It's Not My Job (15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B)

Rumor has it that every month, the Department of Transportation gives an award to a distinct class of its employees across the nation. This award is not prestigious, rather it highlights an employee who manages to follow the letter of the law perfectly and refuses to employ common sense. The award I am referring to is the “It’s Not My Job Award” and it always goes to the employee nationwide who best proves to be unwilling to go outside the the scope of their assigned task. My favorite photo of this award took place on a road in Litchfield Park, Arizona. Here a road crew was repainting lane markings when they came across something that was not in their job description; it was roadkill! Since they were assigned to paint the center line of the road, not to remove dead animals, they simply painted the road...and the dead opossum! The picture, worth a thousand words, gives us a pretty good idea of the literal approach these fellows took to their job.

Now I mention this, because, as ridiculous as this “It’s Not My Job Award” is, there are many people who could win this award if it were offered for the way Christians proclaim their faith. By virtue of our baptism, we are all anointed priest, prophet, and king. In our readings today, the Church asks us to reflect most especially on the role of the prophet, the messenger of God’s Word. Oftentimes, when we hear the word “prophet”, we think of someone who can predict the future or see things that others can’t. While it is true that some prophets did predict future happenings, that was not their main task. No, the prophet is someone who is called to share God’s Word and message with the people around him. Even if we understand what a prophet truly is, most of us probably have the thought it is a role best suited for a priest or religious or at least someone who has specialized training. 

It might help us understand what a often prophet looks like by looking at the one who comes to us in the first reading today. His name was Amos and he was a normal, everyday, working man. He was a shepherd and an arborist, of sycamore trees in fact! He lived just south of the border between the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, on the Judea  side. How easy it would have been for Amos to tell the Lord, “prophecy is not my job, that’s not what I signed up for!” But instead, he crossed the border into the North and proclaimed God’s truth to those in the City of Bethel.  The people there were not fully living their faith. They were part-time their devotion to the Lord. Amos told them to change their lives and be committed to the Lord; to go back to what their faith demanded of them. The priest, Amaziah, told Amos to stop confronting the people and go back to Judah. Amos responded: “I am not a professional prophet. I am an arborist, a dresser of trees. But I cannot refuse to proclaim the Lord.”

Nor can any of us. We have to “proclaim the word, in season and out of season” as St. Paul wrote. By nature of our baptism, we have to proclaim the truth we experience within us whether it is a time others want to hear it, or whether it is a time they would rather we just keep quiet. We are all called to be prophetic voices, no matter what our training or vocation. This isn’t just the work of the priests and sisters and religious brothers; it is the work of all the baptized. We cannot simply tell the Lord, “It’s not my job.”

While He was still with us on earth, Jesus sent his disciples to proclaim the Kingdom of Heaven. These disciples were ordinary, everyday men entrusted with an extraordinary task. Like Amos, they were not trained missionaries but fisherman. Jesus doesn’t seem too concerned about that. He told them that the mission was urgent.  They shouldn’t be bogged down with the cares and concerns of luggage. But they should wear sandals because they had a lot of ground to cover. They needed to proclaim to all.  Some would listen, and others would reject them, but the message had to be proclaimed to as many people as possible. And, as we know from the gospel, these unqualified missionaries had tremendous success, success that came from God and changed the world, even our own lives!

It is the same for all of us. We need to bring the message, the experience, the very presence of Jesus Christ to the world. This is our call, no matter who we are, no matter what our state in life. Some will listen to you who will not listen to me as a priest.  Perhaps it is people your age, be it senior citizen or child, who will say, “I want to be happy with life as he or she is happy.”  Perhaps it will be people who look to you for guidance, such as your own children or grandchildren.  Perhaps it will be people who respect and love you, such as your parents and brothers and sisters. Many of these people will hear the message clearer when it comes from you rather than from me or any priest.  So proclaim the message. 

And yes, there will be people who will reject the message.  You may indeed have to move on and proclaim the  truth of Jesus Christ to others.  But don’t stop praying for them. And be patient.   Joy, happiness and the Presence of the Lord are contagious, but sometimes it takes time for the peace of Christ to win over a person.

May we embrace the role of prophet and apostle in own lives as they are modeled to us today in the example of Amos and the twelve apostles. Let us not be afraid of the uncertainties or difficulties that will come our way in fulfilling our call, given to each of us at our baptism. Most importantly, each of us, in our own way, has something to share with the world about the Good News of Jesus Christ. Let us not act in a way that would win us the “It’s Not My Job Award” and let us trust that God wants to use our witness to bring others closer to him. 

My Strength is Made Perfect in Weakness (14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B)

Six years ago, I was privileged to be a pilgrim and pray with Archbishop Carlson as he received the Pallium as our new Archbishop.  I had been to Rome several times before, but this time, something really struck me as we visited the many Churches and learned more about our beautiful faith.

I couldn’t help but notice the prominence of St. Paul in the sacred art of so many churches. Even those dedicated to other saints seemed to celebrate the life and influence of this great apostle who spread the gospel to the gentiles, including the people of Rome. St. Paul is depicted as the great apostle of strength and courage, who, along with Peter, helped spread the gospel to every corner of the earth. One of the most remarkable images of Paul can be found in the Basilica dedicated to him outside the walls of Rome. As you walk into the courtyard of this magnificent church, you see a large statue of Paul, holding a sword in his right hand and a book of the scriptures in his left hand. His head is covered in a hood, his eyes are looking down, and his expression is serious, almost to the point of being severe. This statue conveys the strength and inner resolve of Paul that enabled him to endure shipwrecks, stonings, persecutions, and so many other sufferings for the sake of Christ. And while this statue depicts the strength and power of Paul, we hear about another side of him in today’s second reading.

The Apostle Paul, like us all, knew weakness. He had what he called a thorn in the flesh - some believe that he had severe headaches, others, a battle with impurity, but whatever it was, we don’t know for sure. Three times, he tells us, he prayed that this weakness, this affliction might be removed, that he might be cured. On the third occasion when Paul prayed God answered him and said -"My grace is sufficient for you - for my power is made perfect in weakness." 

Paul's response to this statement is a most beautiful one. He said

      “I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses,in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.

Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ;

for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

To the world this is nonsense. Power and strength are worshipped by most people, and weakness is despised above all things. The world teaches us to conceal our vulnerability, lest we be hurt, and it teaches us to hide our weakness, lest we be taken advantage of. The world teaches us to camouflage our inadequacies with self-confidence, self reliance and self assurance, so that we can build a heaven for ourselves here on earth. The world teaches us that we can help ourselves, that we can do what we need to do on our own, and that all the answers we need we can find in ourselves.

But this is simply not true. It is the “wisdom” of the serpent who tempted Adam and Eve, it is not the wisdom of God. 

Friends - our weaknesses, our hardships, and our tribulations are not themselves a blessing, they are real problems for us, and they can create problems for how we get along with others. When we acknowledge our weaknesses and our needs, and turn to God and ask for his help, instead of relying on our own wisdom & strength to save us, then something profound happens. We discover that God's grace is sufficient for us, and that his power is made perfect in our weakness, and almost always in ways we do not expect.

If we are honest, we are weak in many many ways, ways that all too often we are afraid to admit, because we fear that we will be mocked, rejected, or taken advantage of.

But that is not what has to happen, nor normally is it what really happens. Rather what occurs is that God's power comes to us and helps us in the way that we need help.

Our weakness may remain, as Paul's thorn remained, but God's power fills it and turns it to strength for us; strength for us to do what we as human beings and as followers of Christ are meant to do and in fact need to do, if we are to inherit the joy, the love, and indeed the very life, that God wants to bestow upon us.

The road to holiness is not travelled by exercising our own human powers, but rather by acknowledging our human weaknesses, and then, in that weakness, allowing God to exercise his power in us. Until we admit our weakness, until we stop being afraid of it, until we stop denying it, we can't find the help we need. 

With this in mind, how much of our weakness do we try and hide from God? How much of our weakness do we keep locked up inside us, because we think that there is no help for us, or because we think other things are more important? The only way to become truly strong is to acknowledge that weakness openly and without excuses and turn it over to God. He will fill it then with his strength and wisdom and courage. He will transform that weakness into something unexpectedly beautiful and life-giving. 

I would like to conclude with a poem that sums up of St. Paul’s message today - it was written over one hundred fifty years ago by a soldier and he came to understand his own limitations and the infinite power of God working through his imperfect prayer:

   I asked for health that I might do greater things,

       I was given infirmity that I do might do better things...

   I asked for riches that I might be happy,

       I was given poverty that I might be wise...

   I asked for power that I might have the praise of men,

       I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God....

   I asked for all things that I might enjoy life,

       I was given life that I might enjoy all things...

   I got nothing that I asked for but everything that I hoped for.

   Almost despite myself my unspoken prayers were answered.

   I am among all men most richly blessed.

May God help us all to see our weakness so that the grace of Jesus Christ will fill us. May we acknowledge our weakness to God freely and joyfully. Then and only then will we be truly strong for him, every day and in every circumstance!