topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
The Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
30 July 06


 

The authors of today’s first reading from the Book of Kings and the Gospel of John use the image that God can transform a little bit of bread and a few fish into enough food to feed a crowd to remind us that, not only in Elisha’s day and Jesus’ day but in our own day as well, God’s love for His children is such that God will fill their physical and spiritual hunger.  The irony is that God does this from what appears to be a very meager portion which is, by all standards, a most unlikely source.

One of the challenges this image presents us is to move beyond the image of food that satisfies hunger—which is important and never to be forgotten because we must feed the hungry—and to consider the “bread of life” which nourishes our spirits, our souls, and yes, even our personal character.  This image, the “bread of life” that nourishes and strengthens us in holiness, raises some questions that relate to growth in holiness:

·       In what ways are we spiritually famished?

·       How is the culture we live in spiritually famished?

·       What do we—both as individuals and as a culture—need if we are to be satiated spiritually, to the point that our spirits, our souls, and yes, our personal character, will be capable of going into our homes, our workplaces, and our society and “take on the day” with courage and conviction, as Elisha and Jesus did?
 

In his letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul offers a list of four attributes we might consider to be “bread of life.”  When blessed and shared, these four little attributes possess all of the power that is necessary to satiate our spiritual hunger.

The first attribute is humility.

We might think of humility as possessing a clear and accurate sense of who we are, that is, our gifts and talents as well as our weaknesses and flaws.  We attain this sense by examining our lives and our consciences as well.

The Latin root of the word humility is “humus” or “dirt.”  But, as any gardener knows, humus isn’t just any generic form of dirt.  No, it’s the type of earth that’s filled with all sorts of decay and rot, all of which provide the nourishment and strength flora need to grow and to be healthy.  Plants, trees, and the like fulfill their nature—they become beautiful to behold—as their roots take in all of the decay and rot around them.  Miraculously, death transforms into life-giving food!

An accurate sense of who we are, then, requires appreciating what St. Paul taught, namely, that it is in our weakness we find our strength through the grace of God.  All of that decay and rot is what will help us to bring our nature to perfection, through the grace of God.

How can all of that decay and rot be a source of nourishment and strength?  Take a little thing, like paper towels or toilet paper, for example.

I swear under oath before God and humanity that, against all statistical laws of probability, I likely am the only person in the entire world who always ends up getting the last paper towel or last square of toilet paper on every roll.  Now, I can choose to get upset by this, to rant and to rave about it, and to heap guilt and dishonor upon all of those lazy people who don’t have enough common courtesy to replace the darned roll.  Or, I can look at that decay and rot, embrace it, take it into my own system, and be nourished by it.

“How?” you might be wondering.

It’s actually quite simple.  Blessing and sharing my little bit of humility, I can replace the roll of paper towels or toilet paper and, then, do the same throughout the house by replacing all of the other rolls of paper towels and toilet paper.  This small exercise in humility demonstrates kindness and care for everyone else, lazy and selfish as they are.

See how it’s possible, from an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny bit of humility, my spirit, my soul, and my personal character can be nourished and strengthened?

Take a more careful look at this, however.  Do you also see how, by feeding others’ spiritual hunger—they are so famished they don’t even care about the little things—you demonstrate to others the type of person all of us are called to be as God’s children?  Look at what you’re capable of accomplishing among the famished!  Blessing and sharing just a little bit of humility with others effects not the miracle of the “multiplication of loaves” but the miracle of the “multiplication of rolls” for yourself and your family members!

Rather than grow in humility, however, it’s easier, isn’t it, to get angry, to spew our self-justified venom all over the place, and to keep available—but hidden in a secret place where absolutely no one else will be able find it—an extra roll of paper towels or toilet paper?

The second attribute St. Paul mentions is meekness.

“To be meek” is somewhat like being humble.  But, meekness requires not over-estimating ourselves and our self-worth.  The problem is that, we allow ourselves to feel superior by denigrating others and their sense of self.  We trample over them to build ourselves up!

Years ago, a very good friend named Dennis Gaffke taught me a lesson about being meek.  Late one Saturday afternoon before dinner, we were discussing my hopes for the school of which I was the principal, my vision for the school’s future, and all of that good stuff.  As I was building up to full crescendo, Dennis got up, walked out the door into the garage, got a bucket, brought it into the house, filled it up with water, and placed the bucket on the table right in front of me.  “Stand up, Richard, and put your hand into the bucket,” Dennis said.  “Now, take it out and look at the water.  See the impression you’ve made?” Dennis asked.  Then he said, “The length of the impression you’ve left in the water is about how long you’re going to be remembered when you leave that job.  So, if those people are to bring your hopes and visions to fruition after you are gone, what do you need to do?”

Now that’s a lesson in meekness!  Don’t overestimate yourself and your self-worth.  Recognize and honor the worth, value, and dignity of other people so that they will flourish.  Just a tiny bit of meekness, when blessed and shared with others, can strengthen and nourish the famished!

It’s easier, though, isn’t it, to believe that we must change people by making them the way we want them to be.  Isn’t this nothing other than pretending that we are omnipotent, that we are God, and that we will be here forever, all in a vain—if not insane—effort to get others to knuckle under to us.  What a selfish lie we live when we aren’t meek!

More importantly, though, notice how—when we don’t bless and share the little bit of meekness we possess—the hungry go unfed.  We ignore those people who otherwise might be capable of stupefying feats of charity if only we fed them from the little portion of meekness we possess.

St. Paul’s third attribute is patience.

“Oh, Lord, give me patience,” might in reality be our most frequent prayer, especially as we rub elbows with, bump into, and sometimes clash with one another.  How many spouses make this prayer?  How many parents make this prayer?  How many kids make this prayer?

We all know what patience is: it’s bearing with one another.  But, the reason we bear with one another is because each of us recognizes the simple fact that not one of us is perfect.

Notice what happens when we are to allow ourselves to be patient: we bear with the imperfections of other people and, in doing so, we model the way of perfection.  We don’t allow the imperfections of others to throw us off center (to allow ourselves to become “eccentric”) but, as we bear their burden of imperfection, charity makes it possible for us to help them live with and, hopefully, to overcome their imperfections.

It’s easier, isn’t it, to be impatient, to rattle off just how imperfect someone else is, and to tell that individual what he needs to do in order to get his act together.  But, notice how in the middle of our own invective, we actually demonstrate how imperfect we are because we are the hypocrites who truly lack patience!

It’s hard to conceive of being nourished and strengthened by the lack of perfection in others.  This lack of perfection, however, is actually a gift!  Through their imperfections, others provide us multiple opportunities to bless and to share the little bit of patience we possess!

And, lastly, the fourth attribute St. Paul mentions is forgiveness.

What’s more nourishing, what strengthens us more, and what fills our hearts with more hope than, after we’ve wronged someone—and we know we have whether intentionally or unintentionally—and we feel ourselves at rock bottom because we’ve filled our cup to overflowing with self pity, the person whom we’ve wronged forgives us?

It feels pretty good, doesn’t it?  It’s like feeling a huge, weighty boulder us lifted from our shoulders and we can stand up straight again.  We look forward with hope to the future, rather than to the past with regrets.  In our emaciated state, we yearn to be nourished and strengthened by the gift of forgiveness so we can lead better lives in the future than we have in the past.

“But,” it can be asked, “how will others experience this wonderful feeling if we aren’t wiling to extend forgiveness to them?”  How are they to be nourished and strengthened if we do not extend forgiveness for the intentional and unintentional wrongs they have perpetrated upon us?

That’s the problem.  We may believe that we don’t possess enough forgiveness in order to offer it to someone who has wronged us.  We believe the forgiveness we possess is insufficient to the need.  So, we tell ourselves, “I need more time.  I need to heal.  I need to make sure I won’t get hurt again.”  So, instead of blessing and sharing the little bit of forgiveness we have, we keep it to ourselves and leave another human being to starve.

The two readings from the Book of Kings and the Gospel of John talk about bread and satisfying the crowd of famished people.  What they need is bread, the “bread of life,” that only God—the Source of our livescan provide.  Both Gehazi and Philip are incredulous when each is told to share his meager portion with the crowds, believing it insufficient to the great need.  But, Elisha and Jesus provide an instructive lesson.  Not only are the meager portions Gehazi and Philip possess sufficient to the need.  More importantly, when these meager portions are blessed and shared with others, there’s enough to feed every famished person and there’s even enough left over for tomorrow.

Perhaps like Gehazi and Philip, we look at ourselves and say, “I don’t have enough to share.”  I don’t have enough humility.  I don’t have enough meekness.  I don’t have enough patience.  And, I don’t have enough forgiveness.  Interestingly, the secular philosopher Aristotle noted that the only thing human beings possess that, as they give it away doesn’t decrease but actually increases, is virtue.  We become rich in humility, meekness, patience, and forgiveness as we bless and share those gifts with others.  In return, these gifts given away nourish and strengthen our spirits, souls, and personal character.

“From the little you possess, you have so very much to share,” Elisha and Jesus teach us today.  “No matter how meager your portion,” our faith teaches that God will bless and multiply our meager portions and, in turn, we will be able to feed everyone in the crowd.  Indeed, our spiritual poverty is no excuse for our lack of generosity but provides an impetus to greater generosity!

 

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