topleft05.jpg (18208 bytes)HOMILY
The Third Sunday of Lent (A)
24 February 08


 

Whether we’re discussing the people of the tribes of Israel wandering through the Desert of Sin for forty years, the Samaritan woman at the town’s well speaking with Jesus, or ourselves, there is no doubt that, in order to sustain life, water is a necessity.  Without adequate hydration, all of us will die.  No doubt about it.

Yet, as important as bodily thirst is in reminding us about what we need to survive in this world, today’s scripture seizes upon this physical need to raise a more fundamental, spiritual question: “What is it you really thirst for?”

To focus upon what this more substantive need, I’d like to share with you the stories of two Egyptians, Ahmed Muhammad Sayyid and Liala Ashour, both of whom I read about in last Sunday’s New York Times.

Several years back, Ahmed had a decent job and a chance to marry.  In Egyptian culture, an engagement lasts for two years during which the male “proves” himself capable of providing for a wife and family.  Ahmed’s fiancée’s family canceled the engagement because after two years, Ahmed’s low-paying job made it impossible for him to raise enough money to buy an apartment and furniture.  Ahmed soon spun into depression and he then lost nearly 40 pounds because, in Egypt, failure in an engagement results in social ostracization which, in turn, makes it extremely difficult and unlikely—if not impossible—to ever marry.  Now, at 28 years of age and possessing a diploma in tourism, Ahmed is living with his mother, Sabah, who was divorced shortly after Ahmed was born, and working as a taxi driver for less than $100 a month.

With these disappointments and indignities, Ahmed has drawn closer to his religion, Islam, and Ahmed spends most of his day seated behind the wheel of his Volkswagen Golf searching for passengers and listening to the Koran.  When he’s not in his taxi, Ahmed is at home where the radio is always on, broadcasting the Koran.  Two worn and tattered books are placed on a small white night stand beside Ahmed’s bed, a large Koran and a small Koran.

“What do you think? Of course I am bored,” Ahmed says, trying not to let go of the forced smile he always wears when he talks about his stalled life.  “When I get closer to God, I feel things are good in my life….By being religious, God prevents you from doing wrong things,” Ahmed remarks, revealing his central fear and motivation, namely, with lots of time, nothing to do, and bored with his life, all of this will lead Ahmed to sin. “This whole atmosphere we live in is wrong, wrong.”

Liala Ashour is 22 years old, a university graduate with a degree in communications.  There was a time she dressed and acted just like her friends, covering her head with a scarf but wearing blue jeans and bright shirts.  She flirted with young men on the street, and dreamed of being a television producer.  Today, Liala dresses in a loose black gown called an abaya, and covers her head, all but her eyes, with a black piece of clothing over her face called a niqab. When she goes outside, Liala wears black gloves as well.  She has all the looks of a strict, religious fundamentalist.

What Liala is, is hurt.  “I realized that people don’t help you,” she said.  “It is only God that helps you.”

Liala was engaged to a young man named Mustafa, for more than two years.  The plan was for Mustafa and his family to take a year or two to construct and furnish an apartment.  But, Mustafa’s father had no money left after setting up two older sons, and the young man was unable to raise enough money to finish the construction.  Liala wanted to help, secretly, but has been unable to find a paying job.  When her mother finally told Liala to end the engagement, something snapped, and Liala sought solace in increasingly the strict Islamic practice. 

“Everything is God’s will,” Liala said, explaining why she decided to take on the niqab.  “Everything is a test.”

Liala now volunteers in a clinic run by the Islamic Preaching Organization. Originally, the clinic aimed to provide medical services to the poor.  But, it quickly expanded and now also helps poor young couples who currently find themselves in the position Liala was in with her fiancé, Mustafa, providing the furniture, appliances, and kitchenware they need to start their lives together.

Realizing their thirst for happiness in this world will not be slaked due to educational, political, social, economic, and cultural forces beyond their power to control, Ahmed and Liala turned to religion—to God—to slake something else, a deep and abiding spiritual thirst brought to the fore by those forces that, it seems, have conspired to ruin the lives of Ahmed and Liala.

One of the things that intrigued me when I read the stories of Ahmed and Liala is how they are learning one of life’s most difficult lessons, namely, all of those things we believe will make us happy—earning a degree, landing a decent job, getting marriage, having all the latest and greatest toys and gadgets we desire—oftentimes don’t materialize or, if they do, don’t bring the happiness we envisioned.  They only make us thirstier!

A second thing that intrigued me when I read those stories is how, in the midst of their dashed hopes and depression, both Ahmed and Liala came to realize something very important.  In Ahmed’s words, “When I get closer to God, I feel things are good in my life….By being religious, God prevents you from doing wrong things.”  In Liala’s words, “Everything is God’s will….Everything is a test.”

I don’t know what Ahmed means, in particular, by “doing wrong things.”  I am sure, however, that one of those wrong things would be to commit suicide.  Depression and the belief that one’s thirst for happiness in this world will never be slaked has led many people over the centuries to conclude that suicide provides an avenue to escape the psychological pain and suffering they are experiencing.  But, rather than succumb to that temptation brought on by depression, Ahmed has discovered true happiness—that “things are good in my life,” he says—by being religious, that is, close to God.

I also don’t know what Liala means, in particular, by “Everything is God’s will….Everything is a test.”  I am sure, however, that seeing everything as God’s will and as a test is a way to avoid succumbing to the temptation to believe that life is absurd, as Albert Camus once described his godless vision of life and work in The Myth of Sisyphus.  The test, if I understand Liala correctly, is to experience God’s presence, nowhere more so than in life’s difficulties.  She seems to have made this discovery and allowed it to transform the anguish and pain of dashed dreams into a source of strength.

For Ahmed and Liala, God has provided nourishing spiritual water—the water of hope—to confront and to overcome the difficulties and trials that life has dealt both of them.  The other option?  That of many of Ahmed and Leila’s peers: to embrace a radical ideology having nothing to do with God; to become extremists who seek to rule as if they were God; and, to condemn others to death in the name of God.

Yes, when we have the world by the tail—when we’ve got everything under control, when everything is going our way, when the future looks sunny and bright, and when the world is our oyster—it’s easy to drink in, absorb, and luxuriate in the water of material happiness.  But, it’s also very easy to forget about and even to neglect God as material things increasingly become the water to slake our thirst.  As Ahmed and Liala are learning, it’s when the world has us by the tail—when everything is spiraling out of control, when nothing is going our way, when the future looks dark and bleak, and everything is collapsing all around us—that it’s extremely difficult to be happy.  Parched and thirsting, we need something more than the water of materialism to slake our deepest, spiritual thirst.  And, the only “something” that can slake our spiritual thirst is God.

Do you remember that cold, dark December night in Iowa in 1999, when the Republican Party primary debate was coming to an end?  One of the final questions Tim Russert posed to the six candidates was, “What political philosopher or thinker do you most identify with and why?”  When then-Governor George W. Bush’s turn to respond came, he answered, “Christ…because he changed my heart.”  After a rather weighty pause, Tim Russert said, “I think the viewers would like to know more about how he’s changed your heart.”  To which Bush responded: “Well, if they don’t know, it’s going to be hard to explain.  When you turn your heart and your life over to Christ, when you accept Christ as the Savior, it changes your heart.  It changes your life.  And that’s what happened to me.”

Like Ahmed, Liala, and President Bush, all of us have to deal with difficulties, trials, and temptations.  When we find ourselves trapped in the middle of these troubles, today’s scripture asks: What is it you really thirst for?

As we heard in today’s first reading, yes, we could respond as the people of Israel did at Meribah and Massah in the desert.  Parched and thirsty, they grumbled against Moses and demanded, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?”  They wanted God to prove Himself to them!

Lent is a time for us to prove ourselves to God by allowing re-centering ourselves in God and allowing God to slake our spiritual thirst as we acquaint ourselves with the lessons taught by God’s only begotten Son.  Perhaps, like Ahmed, we might pick up the Word of God and read it profitably rather than allow it to sit on the bookshelf or bedside table. Perhaps, like Liala, we might offer our time in service of the poor and needy.  Or, perhaps like President Bush, we might allow Christ to change our hearts and lives.  No matter what we do, Lent provides the time to allow the lessons God’s only begotten Son teaches—the true water of life—to transform us so that we will be well-prepared to celebrate Holy Week.

God sent His only begotten Son to satisfy our spiritual thirst completely—to bring us to that eternal place where true happiness is found—but we first have to drink deeply of that water and allow it to transform us into more spiritual and holy people.  To achieve this transformation, however, we need to leave behind slavery in Egypt—like the tribe of Israel, all of those places where we’ve falsely believed we would find true happiness—like the Samaritan woman and her five husbands, and the immaturity and childish behavior that throws our lives off course—like George W. Bush.

As Jesus told the Samaritan woman at the well: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

 

 

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