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July 30, 2006

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Fast Food

A month or so ago an article appeared in our local paper titled: "AP poll finds a nation that hates having to wait for anything." I can understand that: I hate waiting in lines too, whether at the market, the DMV, the bank or even at the traffic light. We are, indeed, an impatient people. Part of the reason for that, I think, is because everything comes so easily and quickly to us. Think of the computer, for instance: Dial-up for the Internet is not fast enough anymore. Now we need broad band or DSL. and even those are too slow for some folks. In reality, however, there are very few things we have to wait for today.

Another article I read some while ago mentioned that hardly anyone today has the patience to make a good meal. Perhaps it may happen on weekends if guests are coming, but rarely during the week. It just takes up too much of our time. So, we stop at the market and get some fast food or perhaps we have some MRE's in the pantry. Or better yet, perhaps we just stop at MacDonald’s or Wendy’s on the way home. Why waste precious time on food, of all things!!

I must say, however, that fixing a meal and eating a meal is a very beneficial activity, even beside the physical nourishment it offers us. It takes some creativity, some reflection and thinking about what to have and how to fix it, how to make the meal worth sitting down for.

Then, of course, we can't forget the conversation that goes on at a good meal; that's also nourishing.

Well, with all that introduction, we have two incidents in the readings for this Sunday that talk about food going around. I call these "Fast Food Stories." The common thread running through both the readings is that an individual, Elisha, the prophet and Jesus, both provide fast food, one for a hundred people and Jesus for some five thousand.

Practically all the commentaries I have read on these two stories place the emphasis on the miracle of the multiplication of the bread. This is no common meal preparation. There are lots of folks waiting for a handout. I agree, there may well be a miracle element in the stories. But, as usual, we always need ask about the meaning of the story. What was it meant to convey? Was it a miracle or, as Jesus would say, a sign, a sign of something deeper than the multiplication of the bread itself?

My feeling is that the essence of the two stories is not about multiplication but about division, the dividing up of the bread. This does not mean, of course, that there was not a miracle involved but simply that multiplying bread does not get it to the people who are hungry. That operation takes some human effort, some human cooperation.

You will notice, of course, that Jesus took things in hand and made sure that his disciples handed the bread around.

That already tells you something about the meaning of the stories: One that food was made available and, two, that people needed to share the food.

So, what are some implications in these stories that we could apply to our lives today? First of all, perhaps Jesus' "miracle" was not so miraculous when you try to imagine how food comes to our table every day at the hand of God. The way things grow is also "sort of a miracle." The fact that our world provides so much food is truly miraculous, or at least something we cannot simply take for granted.

Of course, then we need to ask the additional question, if there is so much food, why do so many people go hungry every day? Well, the problem is not about multiplication but about division. We just don't know how, or we refuse to divide up. Once in a while, of course, we divide up when there is an earthquake or a tsunami where thousands of people are without food. In that case we can usually pull our forces together and get the food to the folks. So, it can happen, but, obviously, it does not happen often enough because people are still dying of hunger every day.

So, what does all this have to do with the Eucharist that we celebrate each Sunday? Some will tell you that the words of the priest at the altar at the consecration accomplish something miraculous. It could be a miracle, but I would rather call it a mystery or a sign of God's goodness.

I think the sign value in the Eucharist is that the receiving of Holy Communion should be an incentive for us to go out and share whatever food we have, no matter how little of it we have. Again, it's all about division, dividing it up.

Perhaps what mainly keeps us from dividing up the riches of God's gifts is that we are always too much in a hurry. We don't have the patience to figure out how we should go about distributing the bread and the many other gifts that are provided us in this world.

One thing for sure: Meals should not be fast. It takes a while to appreciate something nourishing. The same holds true of the Eucharist, the Mass. What's the big hurry about getting out under an hour? With mysteries, you need some time to figure out what you are receiving. There is still time for MacDonald’s after Mass.

The scriptures: 2 Kings 4: 42-44 Ephesians 4: 1-6 John 6: 1-15

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:55 AM.

July 23, 2006

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Time Out!

I often admire the dedication of people who are committed to work on farms or in what is called "animal husbandry," that is, the care of animals.

As practically everyone knows who has ever heard or read these homilies over the years, I too lived and worked (sort of) on a farm. It never occurred to me as a youngster how demanding this vocation really was: Cows needed to be milked morning and evening, twenty-four-seven-three hundred and sixty five days a year. One just did not take a break from such work. Indeed, the cows depended upon the care they received.

I can remember only once in my early history that my father took a vacation and that was only for a few days. Mom and I stayed home and milked the cows!

Reflecting on the work of the farmer today, it almost seems like prison. There are not many options other than to be at home constantly.

Of course, this is true of many other kinds of work as well: Ranchers, poultry farmers, even people who work in the so-called "professions," doctors, lawyers, people in industry where one needs to be available at any moment. Think even about parents: They are literally committed to their children until they leave home. The first 30 years of the life of most parents is a commitment to their kids, one after another, as they come into the world. I suppose no calling in life gives us total freedom. Even priests are on call night and day and especially on the weekends.

I've often wondered whether Jesus chose his parables or examples from the life of people around him, folks who seemed dedicated to their work, the local shepherds, for instance. I have said on many occasions in the past that Jesus always had a reason for choosing his stories; he always found meaning in things around him. It was not unlikely then that he should have pointed out shepherds as models of the way leaders, whether religious or secular, should live and lead. I imagine the assumption on his mind was that these people were not, in fact, good leaders. Otherwise, why bring up the subject?

As for Jesus himself, I have always been astonished at his dedication. He seemed to be a driven person, never seeming able to say "no." There was always something new to be said, another person who needed healing, counsel or even life itself, issues to be solved. So often it happens in the gospels that just when Jesus finally decides to "take a break" something comes up and he goes right back to work. He never seemed to run out of energy.

But we finally do have an example in Mark's gospel today where Jesus does, indeed, admit that they all need a break. So, he says, "let's get off into the hills, guys; this work is taking its toll on us." So, they did go off into the hills. What they did there is not mentioned; I'm sure they probably slept as lot.

Another thing that always interests me about Jesus is the amount of work he manages to get done. What was his method? How come he never seemed exhausted? This is my sense of it: I think Jesus just had a deep understanding of what was truly important in life and what could just be left aside. For instance, on many occasions Jesus would criticize the scribes and Pharisees for being too concerned and busy with dietary rules, with the washing of pots, jugs, kettles and cups. The intricacies of the law never concerned him. He would say to his adversaries: Only one thing is important: The kingdom of God, love of God and love of neighbor. Everything else is secondary.

I think that is the clue to Jesus' way of life: He knew by instinct that there were certain things that you simply could not do without. Pay attention to those and everything else will fall into place.

That leaves us with the question: What is truly important in our lives? What can we set aside without feeling guilty about it?

For example, where does prayer fit in our life? How about recreation, relaxation, going off for a hike or a bike ride, or even taking a full day off from work? What should we do to relax our mind, our emotions? What about some good reading, a movie occasionally, some music in the evening after supper, a picnic with friends? What should we do on Sunday after church? In short, what can give us a sense that life is meant to be lived not endured? There is so much beauty in the world to appreciate. Go out, for instance, and plant some flowers or vegetables and watch them grow. Even Jesus noticed the lilies of the field.
None of this may sound very "religious" but it's all part of the totality of life. We are more than souls, after all. We are human individuals with minds and bodies, feelings and emotions, all of which need to be nourished.

It occurs to me that even God took a break on the Sabbath. I wonder what he did on that day, perhaps nothing. As he looked out over the universe, he probably sat back and said: "Hey not bad for a week's work. Now it's time to relax.

The scriptures: Jeremiah 23:1-6 Ephesians 2: 13-18 Mark 6: 30-34, 53-56

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:50 AM.

July 16, 2006

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Without Baggage

I have always loved to travel, but I must admit that the older I get, the more nervous do I become about traveling. Finding a reservation on the Internet is not a problem now, but it was for a long time. Now, it's the problem of getting my shoes, jacket and hat off as go through screening and finding them once I get through. Besides that, I always worry about getting to the airport on time, getting to the right gate, et cetera. It never used to be that way. I guess I don't quite have the adventuresome spirit I used to have.

Traveling, of course, does have its serious responsibilities: packing enough clothes, medicines, documents, underwear (!), checking ahead to make sure who's going to meet you with transportation when you get there. Perhaps traveling, therefore, never gets any easier because every trip is a new and unique challenge.

I'm sure it could not have been that complicated for people in Jesus time to get from one town to the next. They didn't need signs; they, obviously, must have known where the town was. One thing for sure, however, what they needed most was food and water to last in that hot environment, perhaps also some defense weapons, like a stick to ward off attackers and thieves.

I can only imagine that Jesus must have had considerable experience traveling by the time he was an adult. His whole career was wrapped up carrying his message to distant villages. He must have known the distances and the dangers.

So, with that, the instructions he gives his disciples as he sends them off on mission in today's Gospel seem rather peculiar: No back pack, no money, no food or water. Now, all that advice sounds pretty risky, even for Jesus' time "Make sure, however, that you take a walking stick," he says. Why the walking stick? Again, from a practical point of view, it probably had to do with taking the load off one's feed, and, of course, being able to defend one's self.

From the viewpoint of faith, however, I think Jesus was trying to remind his friends of a couple things: First, if you have something worth while to share with folks when you go to their town, they will take care of you. Secondly, on the road of life you really don't need a lot of "stuff." He was probably saying to them that, for the most part, we overload ourselves with things that we could well do without. We worry too much! If you believe that God protects you on the way, all you need is a walking stick to help you get to your destination.

Now, if one wishes to put this gospel into the context of our own times, we could probably admit that we make a lot of journeys that seem worrisome or dangerous and that take a lot of faith in order to find our way home.

I'm not talking about geographical trips so much as journeys of the heart or journeys of human experience. Every one of us has made such trips and we have probably worried our way through them. Think about the journey of marriage, for instance: Given all the chuck-holes along the way, it surely takes a lot of faith to stick together and finally reach old age knowing that you have done the right thing and helped each other find happiness.

Think about the journeys parents make as their children grow into adulthood. How many times have you stayed up long past midnight worrying whether they are safe? That's not a pleasant journey.

I think too of young teenagers who worry their way through school and finding their future career. That's a journey each of us has to take alone even though we get a little help we get from our friends.

Think too about the journey we have all taken with someone who has an addiction to whatever. That can be a long trip and takes a lot of patience.

Or, take the journey all of us have to make at some point of being with someone who is on the way toward death, but slowly.

Then, of course, there are also many of those happy journeys we make with others when they succeed in life: Getting the first job, earning the Ph.D., getting an award for some original idea, that sort of thing.

Then too, on a broader scale, we are all on the same journey, the journey of life from birth to death.

The form that that trip takes in many ways depends on faith: I don't mean supernatural faith so much as faith that God directs our every move, faith too in ourselves that we are good and capable of doing good things, that we are meant for something in this world and that God has a plan for us that only becomes clear as we move along from one day to the next with our eyes, ears and minds open to the Lord's invitation.

In short, when Jesus tells his disciples that they can get along with fewer things on the road, I think Jesus also tells us that life can be a lot simpler than we make it. We just need to ask what's essential and what we can get along without. The important thing is that we should be able to make our way in peace, knowing that God guides us all along the way to each destination the lies before us.

When you think about it, I suppose one could say that there are lots of different kinds of walking sticks available to us in life, not the wooden kind, but rather friends and associates who would just be delighted to make the journey with us and help us along. In that case, what happens along the way can be as much fun as the expectation of the destination itself.

The scriptures: Amos 7: 12-15 Ephesians 1: 3-14 Mark 6: 7-13

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:43 AM.

July 09, 2006

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Speaking the Truth to Power

Somewhere I once read a wise saying that went like this: "In his own house, a father is hero only to his dog." I would like to think that cats also have their heroes, but perhaps they do not demonstrate it quite as clearly as do dogs.

Obviously, what I am about to say here has nothing to do with dogs or cats. Part of the reason why that saying came to mind is because it occurs to me so often that parents do not ordinarily seem like heroes in their own homes precisely because on certain (perhaps many) occasions they need to say hard things; they need to play the role of prophet, difficult and unappreciated as that task may be.

I'm sure, of course, that most parents would not describe themselves as prophets because that role holds too much a biblical baggage of cranky, bearded old men who were constantly taking the Israelite people to task for their disobediences and indiscretions. To be truthful, they were not all old, bearded nor cranky, but they had this immense sense and compulsion that God had something to say and that someone had to say it for God. And so, they did speak without worry about whether they or their words would be taken kindly or not.

Interestingly, we can still read the prophets today precisely because they did say hard things. Had they been soft "cream of wheat" individuals, we surely would never have heard of them.

So, we are introduced to two prophetic voices in the scriptures assigned for this Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary time. Interestingly, both come across as unpopular people, but that fact does not bother them. They go right ahead and keep doing what they feel God has given them the light to do.

The first is Ezekiel: God invites him to speak, whether anyone listens or not. "You can be assured that if you have the courage to speak," God says, "the people will know that a prophet has been among them." In other words, their consciences will be stung whether they change their lives or not. The interesting point is that the prophet simply feels he has to be around...if nothing other than to embarrass people into doing something.

Jesus is the other prophet we are introduced to, the hometown boy who returns home from his travels and begins preaching to his neighbors. You know the outcome, of course. No one listens to him. "He was too much for them." Like the father in our opening image, Jesus is no hero in his own neighborhood. In fact Jesus quotes an Old Testament phrase: "No prophet is without honor except in his own neighborhood." So, he leaves and finds neighborhoods where people are more willing to listen to him.

So who are the present day prophets and what do prophets do? First of all, let us be clear: prophets are ordinary people who are fiercely sensitive to evil and injustice in the world. Things that may seem slight to us are a disaster in the minds of prophets. The problem is that world problems seem so immense and pervasive to us that we simply say, "oh well, what can I do anyway? What can I do about the thousands of people who are dying in Darfur in Africa at this very moment and nobody seems to be concerned about it? What can I do about the fact that the Palestinian people are slowly being starved to death? What can I do about the homeless who sleep on the streets of this, the richest nation on earth every night? Can anyone get angry over that?" Well, that is what prophets ask: Can anyone get angry over such things.

The interesting and seemingly contradictory thing about the prophets throughout history is that, despite all the problems of their times they probably did not change society all that much. They seemed to assume that someone was in better position to do that than they. They felt that their role in life was just "to be there," to be around where problems were, and perhaps someone might eventually pay attention. But prophets think of themselves as "voices in the desert," people who see the problems and cry out against them. I wonder if that would mean that those of us who do not consider ourselves prophets might be the ones who should consider doing something about problems in the world?

So, who are prophets? Who are the contemporary prophets? Well, if the definition of a prophet is someone who is simply "there", and simply saying hard things, perhaps that means some of our Twenty First Century writers, singers, artists, poets, et cetera could be prophets: I start, for instance, with rabbi Abraham Heschel who once said this: "I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder and You gave it to me." Perhaps that's what the world needs more of: A sense of wonder, astonishment. Or again, from Heschel: "Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy." I think too of Fydor Dostoyevsky who once said that "the world will be saved by beauty!" I think too of Bruce Springsteen with his guitar who sings peace protest songs. I think of Catherine of Sienna who claimed that "All the way to heaven is heaven." I think of Dorothy Day who, when she was told that some people thought of her as a saint, said: "I won't be dismissed that easily." I think of Thomas Merton who once said: "As we go about the world, everything we meet and everything we see and hear and touch plants in us something of heaven." I think of Ralph Waldo Emerson who once said, "Life is what a man is thinking of all day." I think too of Mark Twain who once tweaked our consciences when he said: "The lack of money is the root of all evil." I think of Ludwig Wittgenstein, the German philosopher who once said that, "The great mystery is that there is something and not nothing." I think of the anonymous writer who said: "Life is short, eat your dessert first." And, lastly, the quote from the ancient Greeks: "Know thyself."

So, those are a few of my favorite prophets. They may never have done anything to change the world very radically, but they said something, some words, for us to think about, perhaps to get disturbed about. Having thought about these words, perhaps we too may become inspired and disturbed and do something.

The scriptures: Ezekiel 2: 2-5, 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10, Mark 6: 1-6

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:35 AM.

July 02, 2006

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - All Living Beings

We have all heard the oft quoted lines to the effect that the two things in this world over which we have no control are death and taxes. Fortunately, we need face death only once whereas the tax deadline faces us every April 15th.

All humor aside, we face death every day, not our own, of course, but somebody's. Practically everyone reads the obituaries in the morning paper whether they happen to know the deceased or not. I often scan them just to see the church from which they are being buried. Oddly enough (at least for us Christians) some folks have no church to be buried from, so they are "buried from" the local VFW hall or Tony's Bar and Grill where they are remembered to the accompaniment of a pint of Guiness and some Country music. No one should depart this life unremembered, whatever venue you may choose. Hence, many people may wish to set the fear of death aside by "celebrating life." Not such a bad idea.

In all seriousness, of course, none of us wishes to face death, especially our own. There seems to be a natural instinct within us which believes that we should live forever. Those were the words of Nikos Kazantzakis, the Greek novelist whose character, Zorba exclaimed: "A man like me should live forever." Actually, Kazantzakis was a faithful Christian of the Orthodox Church. He took resurrection seriously. He believed that everyone lives forever.

In all truthfulness, therefore, there seems to be something contradictory about death. Obviously, we know that it happens every day, but something tells us that it should not. The body, a living being, is too precious to be taken without our permission and be buried in the earth. This seems particularly unjust to us when it happens to be he life of a youngster who is killed by a drunk driver. Surely, that cannot be God's will. It was a stupid human act which should be punished.

On the other hand, we can deal more peacefully with the death of a senior person who has lived a long and productive life. That does not cause us as much concern. It's the swift and seemingly unjust death of young people that disturbs us.

I get the impression from reading the selection from the Book of Wisdom assigned for this Sunday's liturgy that the author, whoever he was, was not so happy about death either. He can confidently say: "God did not make death, nor does God rejoice in the destruction of the living. He fashioned all things that they might have being (life). God formed man (sic) to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him." Those are pretty bold words from a person who must have known as well as we do that all beings die at some point in their history.

Of course, I suppose all of us would prefer to say that: Despite the obvious fact of death, this can't be God's will. It doesn't make sense that God would create something as precious as a human person only to have us pass from earth, never to be heard of again.

So, perhaps like the Wisdom author, we admit that it happens, but life is still precious and should be appreciated for what it is by nature.

Reading the gospel for this Sunday, I also get the impression that Jesus was not all that happy with the reality of death. He was faced one day with a family tragedy: A little girl of twelve had suddenly died and the parents were grief-stricken. Jesus simply goes into the room and tells her to get up and she does. Everybody, obviously, is ecstatic. Wouldn't we all be?

Of course, that sort of event doesn't happen every day. In fact, we know from the gospels that Jesus did not raise to life every young person who died. So, where is the justice in that? I have no answer except to say that Jesus always seemed to respond directly to tragedies when people asked him. He didn't go around the country looking for recently deceased people, young or old. So, I leave it there: Jesus seemed to feel that death was something that needed to be faced and he faced in his unique way.

So that leaves us to face some questions about death. Obviously, I have no more clarity about this mystery than you do, but two things have helped me to come to some peace with it. First, it appears to me that death is simply part of the rising and falling of all things in the universe: Even stars die! Living and dying is part of the human condition, indeed the imperfect condition of the entire universe. This is simply the way it was created. All things are created with death built into them. We humans are not excused from this reality.

Secondly, I have taken much consolation from a man who told all of us how to die: Cardinal Joseph Bemadin, former archbishop of Chicago. He died of cancer in October, 1996. For years as a bishop he had been teaching people how to live. Now in the last months of his life, he would teach them how to die well. So, before he died he wrote some essays for the local paper about how to face death peacefully. "I can say with all sincerity," he said, "that I am at peace. I consider this as God's special gift to me at this particular point in my life. The terrible knowledge that the end is near need not be quite so terrible. It is not, after all, the end. It only serves notice like the two-minute warning or the last call before the bar closes. If you do it right, the final call can be a new beginning." I think those are great words. I hope I can remember them when my turn comes.

Finally, I remember a quote from a book by the French Philosopher, Teilhard de Chardin that has always given me a sense of peace thinking about death. "When death lays its hand on me," Teilhard says, "it will leave intact these things, these ideas, these realities which are more lasting and precious than I. My faith in God makes me believe that death comes at its own fixed moment, a moment of mysterious and special fruitfulness, not only for the supernatural destiny of the soul but also for the further progress of life on this earth. Thus, to our peace is added the joy of creating an eternal work which could not have existed without us."

Perhaps Teilhard is right: Even after death something remains, something so unique that it could not have existed without us. Maybe that is what eternal life means. Something to think about.

The scriptures: Wisdom 1:13-15, 2: 23-24 2 Corinthians 8: 7.9, 13-15 Mark 5: 21-43

Posted by Julie Galligan at 09:25 AM.