Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

On Friday evening nearly one billion people around the world were transfixed by the opening ceremonies of the Olympic Games in London.  The spectacle was conceived and directed by the British director Danny Boyle, who is most famous for movies such as Trainspotting and the Oscar winning Slumdog Millionaire.

But this weekend’s Gospel reading got me thinking of another Danny Boyle movie – one of my all-time favorites – a film from 2004 entitled Millions.  The title refers to the number of British pounds that a young boy, Damian Cunningham, discovers on the side of a railroad track. 

After a bag of money mysteriously lands in Damian’s cardboard playhouse, he and his brother Anthony giddily count the money and set to spending it all before it becomes obsolete in two weeks’ time, when the movie indicates England will scrap pounds sterling for the Euro … you can tell this movie was made in 2004!

Damian’s brother Anthony wants to spend the money on toys, gadgets, and even on real estate investments! But Damian wants to give the money away to the poor.  He is a pious young man who rattles off the names, dates, and accomplishments of the saints as if they were stats from the back of a baseball card. 

And Damian’s devotion to the saints is rewarded throughout the movie, as he is visited by, and converses with great saints, including Theresa of Avila, Joseph, Nicholas, Francis of Assisi, and the Ugandan Martyrs.  Just as they truly do for all of us in the spiritual life, these saints provide Damian with advice, inspiration, and even defense against evil.

One of the most crucial scenes in the entire movie involves a conversation young Damian has with St. Peter, who visits shortly after the young man discovers that the money he found had in fact been stolen and misplaced by bank robbers.

“I thought it was a miracle,” Damian explains to Peter, “but it’s just robbed … can you still do good with it,” he asks.

In response, St. Peter tells Damian the “background story” of today’s Gospel – the multiplication of the loaves and fishes – and Danny Boyle has a bit of fun with the story.  According to St. Peter, the five thousand who gathered on the hill that day all had secret stashes of their own food, but they were “keeping it quiet, looking out for number one.”

But when the young boy comes forward and offers the disciples his “five sardines,” something amazing happens.  All of the people begin taking out their own food and start to share.  And the plate of fish goes “all the way around, and back to Jesus” and it still has the five fish and two loaves on it, and yet everyone has had their fill.

St. Peter tells Damian, “I think Jesus was a bit taken aback. He says, 'what happened? ' And I just said, 'miracle.'  And at first I thought I'd fooled Him.  But now I see it was a miracle, one of His best.”

Damian doesn’t quite get the point of Peter’s story, or how it applies to his predicament.  Damian is trying to do something really big and important to help the poor.  He’s devastated that the money he found, and thought was a miracle, could really be explained away so easily by a police report.

So, St. Peter goes a little further:  “You're trying too hard,” he tells Damian. “That kid, he wasn't planning on doing a miracle. He wasn't planning anything, except lunch. Something that looks like a miracle turns out to be dead simple.”

Despite the fact that Danny Boyle plays with the story a bit, and downplays the supernatural element of the Gospels, he is, in a way, still able to capture one of the crucial spiritual truths to be found in today’s Gospel reading – a truth that we often miss in our own lives, and gloss over in a Gospel story that we know so well.

The multiplication of the loaves and fishes is the only miracle narrated in all four of the Gospels.  In John’s version, which we’ve just heard, the evangelist is sure to mention that, “the Jewish feast of Passover was near.”  And as the action quickly unfolds, John uses language borrowed from accounts of the Last Supper and contained in the Eucharistic Prayer of the Mass to this day: “Jesus took the loves, gave thanks, and distributed them.” 

So we all know very well that the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes fulfills the prophecy of Elisha from our first reading, and foreshadows the Eucharist that Jesus bestows to the Church before He dies, and that we celebrate daily in His memory.

But our familiarity with the story, and with the Mass itself, may blind us to some of the subtler spiritual lessons contained in the story. 

It’s crucial, I think, that it’s a little boy who gives Jesus what amounts to the leftovers of a previous meal.  First, we have to remember that children in Jesus’ day were not given the respect or the rights they are given today.  With women and slaves they were relegated to an inferior, even insignificant status.  Second, we should recognize the paucity of what the child brings forward: just a couple small fish, and a few pieces of bread.

And yet, from this apparently insignificant person, and this seemingly insufficient store, Jesus creates something spectacular.  He provides for the needs of an enormous crowd.

And the miracle doesn’t end there with everyone having “as much as they wanted.”  When the meal is finished, Jesus gives the disciples what might seem to be a practical instruction, a mere afterthought.  “Gather the fragments left over,” He tells them, “So that nothing will be wasted.”

Friends, Jesus isn’t just being a neat freak.  He isn’t merely being resourceful or environmentally conscious.  The spiritual point is that nothing, not the boy who brought the food, or the meager meal he brought, or even the left over fragments and tiny crumbs, are too small for God.

The miracle of the loaves and fishes, the miracle of the Last Supper, and the Eucharistic shape of our entire lives as Christians, show us that something that is in fact a miracle turns out to be pretty simple in its contents, and conversely, that simple things turn out to be miracles in the grace of God’s hands.

In Millions, St. Peter wanted young Damian to realize that he was frustrated because he was “trying too hard;” thinking and acting as if it were entirely up to him alone.  But discipleship and holiness don’t require us to perform large, conspicuous, seemingly miraculous good deeds as Damian had thought. 

Rather, in St. Paul’s words from our second reading, discipleship and holiness require us to live with “humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, and striving to preserve the unity of the spirit.”

Our lives, however small or worthless they may sometimes feel to us; all the little things, the daily actions we have to offer, however puny they sometimes seem to us … none of them are too small for God to use, to turn into a miracle.  He can make so much out of so little, and He makes sure that nothing, absolutely nothing is wasted. 

All of it, all of us – like simple fragments of bread and wine – are matter for miracles if only we, like the young boy in today’s Gospel, come forward and bring what we can to the Lord and allow Him to use them, use us, to answer the needs of all His people.

Homily for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

Sadly, this week our nation has once again experienced a most horrific and tragic event: the mass-murder of a dozen innocent moviegoers in a theatre in Aurora, Colorado.  This morning, in churches across the country, and especially in Colorado, communities of faith will gather to pray for the deceased and the wounded, and to seek some measure of hope, consolation, and understanding amidst such a senseless tragedy.

I feel quite comfortable in predicting that the Psalm we have heard this morning will be proclaimed at a significant number of these services, and will likely find a place in some of the official memorial services to be held over the coming days and weeks.

The Twenty-Third Psalm is almost certainly the single best-known Psalm in the entirety of the Scriptures: “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. In verdant pastures He gives me repose; besides restful waters He leads me, He refreshes my soul” … and perhaps most well know, and most poignant for today, the line: “Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side.”

Not only Jews and Christians but people of many faiths, and of no faith at all, are deeply familiar with the words and metaphors of this Psalm.  We see it reproduced and reinterpreted not only on religious gifts and inspirational cards, but in artwork and music of all sorts

Just what is it about the Twenty-Third Psalm that we find so compelling?  Why does it have such a powerful hold on our imaginations, and why do we so often return to it in moments of grief and loss? 

Well, obviously, throughout the centuries this Psalm has spoken comforting and consoling words to some of humanity’s deepest and most abiding needs: the need to be fed, nurtured, protected, and shepherded. 

Like the sheep the prophet Jeremiah speaks of in the first reading, we are often misled and scattered.  Our fallen nature, our imperfect intellect, our human passions sometimes put us at odds with ourselves.  Often enough we feel internally divided, scattered, lost to others and to God.  On top of that, we’re often threatened by the Evil One: we fall to his lies and temptations, and we sometimes suffer under the chaos and hatred that he alone inspires and rejoices in.

In the Gospels such feelings of internal division, of being scattered and lost, are powerfully portrayed in the demoniacs that Jesus frees from possession.  Recall that in the Gospels the demon possessing a person always speaks to Jesus in the plural: “What have you to do with US, Jesus of Nazareth.” The demon speaks in the plural, in part, because they are the very embodiment of division.  They are not at all at peace with themselves, with God, or with the world around them.

In his letters, St. Paul addresses this same reality of internal division, of being spiritually and emotionally scattered, in a slightly different way.  He says, “the good I want to do, I don’t do – and the evil I wish to avoid, I do anyway.” I think we all know well that feeling of being divided within ourselves, because of the weakness of our wills and the power of the Tempter.

Finally, in the Gospels, Jesus Himself does battle with the Devil and his temptations in the desert; He predicts His own Passion and death by referencing the coming of “the ruler of this world,” Satan; and while in agony in the Garden, Jesus wrestles with God’s will and explains to His Apostles that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

But, brothers and sisters, generations of people have been drawn to the Twenty-Third Psalm because its promise, and the promise of Jeremiah’s prophecy from our first reading, is that we are not left alone to wander lost, confused, scattered, and abandoned.  God promises: “I myself will gather the remnant of my flock.”  The days are coming when I will shepherd my people so that “they no longer fear or tremble.”

And St. Paul confirms in today’s second reading, in his letter to the Ephesians, that all those who were far off, scattered, lost, or divided have indeed been brought near, have been reunited in Christ Jesus.  Paul says that in Christ we have been made “one new person in place of the two, thus establishing peace and reconciling” us to God.

Jesus is, of course, the Good Shepherd through whom God fulfills His promise to guide, nourish and protect His flock. That’s why the very first piece of Christian art ever produced depicts Jesus as a shepherd, and that’s why Christians have always seen the Twenty-Third Psalm as a description of Jesus’ mission.

Still, you and I might ask, how can we come to experience this promised unity and peace?  How, in the midst of our still feeling very much divided and lost – how in the midst of terror and tragedy can we truly know the comfort that Psalm Twenty-Three offers us?

I think the answer is contained in the very first lines of today’s Gospel. 

Remember that in last week’s Gospel Jesus sent the Apostles out in pairs, scattering them to various towns and villages of Galilee and Judea to preach and to heal in His name.  Now He gathers them back together, they report what they have accomplished, and Jesus says:

“Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.”

After being separated and scattered – after encountering the broken lives of the people they went to serve, after facing down the Devil in all his many manifestations, Jesus calls the Apostles to be alone with Him and to rest.

Friends, this is how we come to experience the wholeness, the peace, the security, and the comfort that Psalm Twenty-Three promises us.  In taking time to go away, in resting a while in Christ’s presence – in other words, when we pray – then and only then can we know the love of the Good Shepherd. 

Perhaps in our hyper-busy modern world, it’s precisely because we don’t take enough time to be alone with the Lord that so many of us feel so scattered and so lost.  Because also in our own time, Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta certainly faced what it means to be lost, abandoned, internally divided, to be the victim of terrible violence. She worked with people day in, and day out who suffered in these ways and she knew such suffering herself.

And yet, she also wrote:  “In our congregation, we used to have adoration once a week for one hour, and then in 1973, we decided to have adoration one hour every day… And from the time we started having adoration every day, our love for Jesus became more intimate, our love for each other more understanding, our love for the poor more compassionate, and we have doubled the number of vocations … The time we spend in having our daily audience with God is the most precious part of the whole day.”

In other words, even while daily facing such terrible suffering and loss, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta and her sisters found the goodness, the repose, the courage, and the bounty that are promised to us in Psalm Twenty-Three, all because they took time each day to come away with Jesus.

Brothers and sisters, during the slower months of summer perhaps we can start to make a little more time in our daily schedule for going away by ourselves, and resting a while in Jesus’ presence.  After all, Jesus’ invitation is made to us as surely as it was made to the Apostles in today’s Gospel. 

Then maybe even in the busyness of our lives – even in the moments we feel lost, or scattered, or afraid – maybe even then we can come to know that God spreads a table before us, that His goodness and kindness follow us all the days of our lives, and that we shall indeed dwell in the house of the Lord, for years to come.

“Citius, Altius, Fortius ... Faster, Higher, Stronger"

This coming Friday the Games of the 30^th Olympiad will be officially opened by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.  For two weeks, athletes from around the world will gather in London to represent their countries, to contribute to peaceful international exchange, and to compete for gold.

At Little Flower Parish we have particular reason to celebrate as one of our fellow parishioners, Katie Ledecky, will compete as a member of the U.S. Swim Team and will be our nation’s youngest Olympian. We congratulate and thank Katie, her parents and brother, and we wish Katie the very best of luck in her competition!!

In recent years especially, sports have taken up an even greater place in people’s lives, to the point that we can say that sports are a “characteristic phenomena of the modern era.”  But there is the danger that sports might become for us an end in themselves, that we might lose sight of the deeper values and virtues of sport, and that we might fail to apply sport’s important lessons to the rest of our lives, including most importantly our spiritual lives.

Blessed Pope John Paul II celebrated the Olympic Games as “a fitting occasion to give thanks to God for the gift of sport, in which the human person exercises his body, intellect and will, recognizing these abilities as so many gifts of his Creator.”  An athlete himself, John Paul II also reminded us that, at their best, sports should help young people develop important values “such as loyalty, perseverance, friendship, sharing and solidarity.” 

Most of all, he pointed out that the great athletes we admire “sacrificed themselves for years, day after day, to achieve their results.”  He called this “the logic of sport, especially Olympic sport” and he reminded us that “it is also the logic of life: without sacrifices, important results are not obtained, or even genuine satisfaction.”

In ancient Corinth there was a stadium where the Isthmian Games were held.  It was fitting, therefore, that when St. Paul wrote his letter to the Corinthians he used athletic competition as an image for Christian discipleship, and spoke of the logic of sport and life: “Every athlete exercises self-control in all things,” he wrote. “They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one … So run that you may obtain it!" (1 Cor. 9: 25, 24).

We are all called to wear the laurel of everlasting life in heaven.  But we must run the race of life and discipleship so as to win such a prize.  We must daily train and sacrifice, exercise self-control and practice the virtues, so that we can be strong “athletes of Christ.”  As we enjoy the Olympic Games these next two weeks, may the athletes we watch inspire us to recommit to the disciplines of the faith, and to run the race, so as to win the prize of everlasting glory.

The above will appear this weekend in the "Clergy Corner" of our parish bulletin at The Church of the Little Flower, Bethesda, MD.

The Wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter

A few weeks ago I mentioned in one of my homilies that I was heading to Florida for a bit of vacation, and that I'd be visiting Universal Studios in Orlando. In particular, I noted that I would be visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Before I get too far removed from the trip I thought I should follow up and say that Nate, Stacey, and I had a wonderful day and that the park is truly amazing.

Universal Studios has expertly recreated the town of Hogsmeade from J.K. Rowling's famous Harry Potter series. When you enter the town, by way of the Hogsmeade train station of course, all of the irregular chimneys, lampposts, and store signs make you forget that you're in Florida not in the magical England of the Potter books and movies ... though I have to admit, the heat of the day was solid reminder!

Hovering over the entire town is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Within the castle visitors can see recreations of Professor Dumbledore's office, the portrait hall, the Griffindor common room, and the Dark Arts classroom among others. 

Each of these venues includes video projections of the characters from the movies, but perhaps the most impressive of these video presentations is the portrait hall at the entrance to the School. Flat screen technology was used to create "portraits" that speak to the visitors and to each other. But the screens don't emit light in the same measure as a T.V., and the images really do look as if they have the texture of a painted canvas, not a glass or plastic screen. When even a technophile like Nate is impressed, you know you've done something right!

Indeed, throughout the park we all thought that every aspect of the experience - from the buildings, to the staff and their costumes, to the souvenirs, and the concessions - were done with with fantastic forethought, creativity, and care.  Above, you can see some of the stuffed owls for sale in the gift shops, and Nate as he selects his wand ... or should we say that his wand selects him! In fact, the staff at Olivander's will help you find the wand that fits you based on special dates such as your birthday or anniversary.

And finally for eats, there are not only the Berty-Bot's Every Flavor Bean that are available from Jelly Belly around the country, there are also chocolate frogs, Pumpkin Juice (which is apple cider with pumpkin and apricot puree) and Butter Beer (which is essentially cream soda with a whip cream 'float') which are unique to the Wizarding World theme park.

Altogether, the experience was well worth a visit to Universal Studios ... even for someone who only rode one of the three roller-coasters!