Archive for the ‘Homily’ Category
Moaning and Complaining
On the Roman Catholic calendar, this Sunday is the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The readings today (1 Kings 19:4–8, Ephesians 4:30–5:2, John 6:41–51) revolve around grumbling and murmuring about our situations before God.
Complain, complain, complain
All three readings start with a similar action: someone (or some group) complaining about their situation:
- In the first reading, after a day of wandering the desert Elijah prays for death, telling God that he’s had enough: not unlike a sentiment many have when they feel God is testing them.
- In the second reading, Paul is responding to bitter divides in the Church at Ephesus, where sectarian arguments threaten to undermine the community.
- In the Gospel, Jesus responds to the Jews who murmur about his pedigree: questioning his ability to speak for God when they know who his parents are.
Even Captain Picard is disgusted from time to time
We all complain from time to time: sometimes, we just need to cry “uncle!” and feel the need to give up. Father Richard at my parish talked about regularly having liver ball soup at his seminary, to which all the seminarians would grumble and complain about, so they’d all leave the seminary to grab burgers. Perhaps for you, it’s something like that, or going to church regularly, or dealing with coworkers and family, or even a diet.
It’s Not that Bad
But it’s important, as Paul teaches us in the second reading, that we try to avoid this, though: to “live in love” and do away with all the “bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling, [...] along with malice.” Why? Because regardless of what you’re complaining about, God is with you and it could be worse. Elijah, for example, complained after one day of wandering the desert: yet, with God’s help, he was able to walk the desert for 40 more days.
Deacon Greg Souza relayed a great story on doing away with reviling:
The story is told of a priest stationed at a parish in a popular beach resort area. There was a strong community of year round parishioners who served the parish well. However, during the summer months, the number of parishioners would swell with those who had seasonal residences in the area and tourists. One Saturday afternoon, a young man walked into the church for Mass straight off the beach with just a bathing suit on and a towel draped over his shoulder – no shirt, no shoes and his long, dirty blond hair still dripping wet. He walked straight up the center aisle and sat on the floor in front of the first row of pews. Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what to do. The priest was about to send an altar boy over to invite him to at least sit in a pew, when one of the oldest members of the parish got up to approach the young man. Everyone in the church started to tense up as they expected the older man to scold the young man for being inappropriately dressed for Mass. But instead, the older man walked over and sat on the floor next to the younger man. The whole church burst into applause and laughter at what was so obvious a display of the all-embracing love of our heavenly Father.
Even though it makes one cringe when someone doesn’t do things appropriately, it’s important to forgive, forget, and embrace them: because even coming to Mass in a bathing suit is not that bad, and forgivable in the eyes of God.
Have Faith
The Gospel conveys a similar, but different message: in it, Jesus asks the Jews it have faith in him; so that whomever believes in him shall have everlasting life. He asks them to stop murmuring about their doubts and questions, and realize God is speaking to them directly through Jesus. It’s important to realize that, even when we are complaining and questioning our faith in God, He’s always there, ready to help when you get back down from the ledge. It’s only when we stop complaining and listen, as Elijah did, that can God truly help us.
Manna from Heaven
Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, La raccolta della manna. (From Wikimedia Commons)
On the Roman Catholic calendar, this Sunday was the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The readings today (Exodus 16:2-4, 12-15, Psalms 78:3-4, 23-24, 25, 54, Ephesians 4:17, 20-24, and John 6:24-35) concerned God’s gift to man: bread, literally to feed our bodies, and spiritually to feed our souls.
Deacon Doug Souza took today’s readings and related it to the father who is tempted to take time away from his family in order to provide for them: an extra job or overtime, for example. Yet as he says, “no amount of material goods can take the place of a father’s loving, attentive prescence at home.” He then talks about God, in that He suffers no such temptation: that no matter how much God provides for us, He’s always by our side because that’s what we need the most.
What interested me the most about today’s readings, however, wasn’t God’s provisions for us, or that He’d always be by my side. It’s important, but a part of the Gospel reading was especially interesting given the project of this blog:
So they said to him, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God?” Jesus answered and said to them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.” So they said to him, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do? Our ancestors ate manna in the desert, as it is written: He gave them bread from heaven to eat.” So Jesus said to them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, it was not Moses who gave the bread from heaven; my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (John 6:28-33)
Here, Jesus’s disciples request their own shibboleth for one who comes in the name of God: they imply that, since in Exodus, God gave bread to the Israelites, that might be a good indicator that a person should be believed in. Jesus explains that only God gives true nourishment, and as He says immediately after:
“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” (John 6:35)
What I find fascinating about this is that the crowd doesn’t necessarily believe in Jesus unquestioningly: in fact, they want to make sure He’s on the level with the God they know. God provided manna from Heaven: will Jesus do the same? Surprisingly, Jesus accepts the contract and makes a pledge, in contrast to other times he’s been challenged. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus gets angry when He’s tested:
Then the Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap him in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion, for you do not regard a person’s status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Knowing their malice, Jesus said, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?” (Matthew 22:15-18)
Why is it different, here? Prima facie, it seems God answers to those who have a noble intent: the disciples asking Jesus about the bread genuinely want to understand the signs, whereas the Pharisees were merely trying to entrap Him. God knows the minds of all, so Jesus responded accordingly. But going back farther into the Bible, there are two more examples of questioning or testing God: in Genesis, Abraham bargains with God (Genesis 18:16-33) regarding the fate of Sodom and Gommorah, and God responds as if this was normal.
Léon Joseph Florentin Bonnat, Job (From Wikimedia Commons)
This seems to back up the case: Abraham was righteous, so God listened and responded pleasantly. But the other example throws a wrench into the works: God’s response to Job (Job 38-40). Like Abraham, Job was righteous (Job 1:1): even if he wasn’t as great as Abraham, he’s at least equal to or better than the disciples in John. So why does God respond so violently? In fact, God responds almost in the same manner Jesus does with the Pharisees: He gets angry, He asks why He’s being questioned, and answers the question with another question.
To add more to the confusion, Job was asking for the same thing the disciples were asking for: a sign that God’s there:
I cry to you, but you do not answer me; you stand off and look at me, then you turn upon me without mercy and with your strong hand you buffet me. You raise me up and drive me before the wind; I am tossed about by the tempest. Indeed I know you will turn me back in death to the destined place of everyone alive. Yet should not a hand be held out to help a wretched man in his calamity? (Job 30:20-24)
So what’s different about the disciples and Job?