A SIGNIFICANT LITTLE BOY

I like to think of the little boy in this Sunday's Gospel about the multiplication of loaves. Was the kid on his way home from the market with some bread for the family, or had his family packed a hamper for the day? Did he protest when two grown-ups relieved him of his bread and fish? As he handed them over, did he feel that the towering Andrew and Simon Peter were losing their marbles? 'What? My little pieces of bread to feed a whole mountainside of hungry grown-ups!' The significance of this socially insignificant kid was that his little contribution was blessed by Christ and made unbelievably effective. Twelve very large doggie bags were left over for everyone, including his family, to take away.

Catholicism is about three things: Word of God, Eucharist and Service of others. The little boy who gave away his bread and fish is an image of us all. The Word of God called, and continues to call us into life. We celebrate the gift of life and all it entails in the Eucharist. And we leave church renewed in faith, strengthened in hope and generosity to go and give life to others. We are here in order to serve one another and to promote the common good, however small and insignificant our service may be.

Psychologists tell us we need four things for a happy life: Something to do, something to believe in, something to hope for, and someone to love. Reaching out in service to others brings happiness and wholeness. When we pause to look at the boy with the loaves of bread we witness the meeting of the death-dealing power of fear and the life-giving power of faith. Being asked to hand over his loaves of bread and dried fish probably filled him with fear and doubt and a sense of isolation, at least momentarily.

It's easy for us to feel we have little to offer that will make a difference. The kid must have felt that way. Was he being asked to hand over the family dinner? He gave it away hoping against hope that he was doing the right thing. And - Hey Presto - look what happened! Had he insisted on being his own judge as to how many mouths his bread could fill, and not given it, an awful lot of people would have gone home that evening feeling very faint and hungry. But he didn't. He simply made the effort. Jesus Christ did the rest.

Here's something worth looking at. What's important in life? To be cool, ambitious, successful, famous, wealthy....? All are important. But what really counts in life is to be significant. Success adds value to our own lives; being significant adds value to the lives of others. 'I help others so as to maintain my own sobriety,' someone in recovery said. In a very true sense we are all in some kind of recovery, seeking completion and wholeness. And sanity. To become more human is to reach out to others. To be all God created and hard-wired us to be we need to invest in others; believe and care for them; bless them and wish them well.

The boy in the gospel is an image not of fear but of faith. He took the risk, made a choice. No longer trapped by fear, his choice set him free so others would thrive. 'Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted.' In that moment of generosity of his isolation was transformed into hospitality and community.

What do we seek in life? Success, fame, popularity, eternal youth.....? Or to be significant? It takes only two things to be significant: To do the right thing, and to show other people that we care. That kid with the five barley loaves and two fish looked for all the world to be insignificant. In his case, looks deceived. He teaches us a lesson today about what really counts in life.

PASTOR EMERITUS

MASSACRE IN COLORADO

Why did God allow last weekend's massacre in that movie theater to happen? I don't know. But I offer this week a couple of things from scripture that might help us get a positive handle on human tragedy. No words can describe the anguish and pain of those affected by what happened. Theological explanation is the last thing the families and loved ones of the victims need at this time. But readers of these blogs may appreciate the chance to stop and think about where God might be in human pain and suffering.

Apart from last week's tragedy, many people suffer serious illness, abuse, broken relationships, betrayal, sorrow, depression, injuries, disappointment, heartache, crime, violence.... And all of us will eventually suffer death. Why? The 'Why' question goes back thousands of years. Look at Job in the bible and the psalms. They are full of it. The question is especially relevant to all of us today, especially when we think of the 20th century with its two world wars, the holocaust, the genocides of the Soviet Union and China, the devastating famines of Africa, the killing fields of Cambodia, the emergence of AIDS, Rwanda, and the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo. Our 21st century doesn't seem to be doing any better when we look back at 9/11, all the suicide bombers and the current slaughtering of defenseless women and children in Syria.

If I were to ask God one question it would be, 'Why all this human suffering? Why did you allow that lone gunman to spray a movie theater with bullets?' I don't know. I cannot stand in God's shoes, I don't have God's mind, I cannot see with his eyes. Some day I'll see it fully. 'At present we see indistinctly...but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully...' - cf. 1 Corinthians 13:12. As a believer, I offer a reflection based on bits and pieces of scripture that appear to raise a corner of the divine veil.

If Genesis 1:31 is to be taken seriously ('God looked at everything he had made and found it very good'), then it looks like God did not create evil. So, if all the immorality and pain and suffering and tragedy in the world did not come from God, where did it come from? Love is the deepest reality about God - 1 John 4:8. Made in God's image and likeness, we were created to love. In order to love we need free will; to love is a free choice. God gave us a tool called free will in order to decide whether to love or not to love. When we choose not to love it would seem that we disturb the divine order of things. Maybe that has a ripple effect throughout the cosmos, impacting the planet and even our human bodies.

Much of the world's suffering comes from using our freedom in the wrong way - using it for things other than love and promotion of the common good. People look at famine and wonder where God is. But the world produces enough food for each of the 7 billion persons on the planet to have 3,000 calories per day. Our irresponsible and self-centered use/plunder of the earth's resources prevents everybody from getting fed. My hand can hold a gun and shoot people - or it can give food to hungry people. The choice is mine. As good old Pogo is supposed to have said: 'We have seen the enemy, and the enemy is us!'



Couldn't God have foreseen the Colorado tragedy and done something to prevent it? That looks a lot like asking parents to foresee all the problems their as yet unborn kids will get into and take appropriate action ahead of time. I think God must have known that many people would misuse their freedom and reject him. He must also have known that many would choose to use their freedom the way the Creator intended it to be used, as a tool with which to love. God took a chance with us when he gave us the gift of free choice. Would we use it to enhance his creation or destroy it?

Tragedy is an awful thing, but it looks like God can use it to accomplish good. Paul in Romans 8:28 says, 'We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.' Note well that Paul doesn't say that God causes evil in order to bring good out of it. God promises to take the evil that strikes us and, if we're committed to his purpose, bring some good out of it.

What if we feel a situation is too big and too awful and too evil for any good to emerge? Look at the very worst thing, the greatest evil that ever happened; deicide - the death of God on the cross. If God can take the worst and turn it into the best situation - salvation, redemption, eternal life - God can also take some of the worst things that can befall us (e.g. the loss of a child) and cause something good to emerge.

God can use our pain and suffering to mold and sharpen our character - give us wisdom and depth - influence others for better. God can draw something good in myriads of ways if we trust and live according to his purposes. I believe all suffering has some potential good, at least an opportunity for good. What do you think?

PASTOR EMERITUS

WHO AM I?

Vatican II took place during the 'swinging sixties' - a time of optimism and hope, when Western people were celebrating humanity's new-found freedoms. One of its best known documents was called 'The Church in the Modern World' - in Latin 'Gaudium et Spes' (Joy and Hope). In it, the Church sought to understand for the first time in its long history what it means to be human. I will refer to this document as GS.

The great thinkers of the world had for thousands of years wrestled with such questions as, 'Who am I?' 'Where have I come from and where am I going?' 'Why is there evil?' 'What is there after this life?' These questions represent the quest for meaning which has always compelled the human heart. Such quests for truth (and goodness and beauty) define us as human.

In his entertaining book, Bad Science, Dr. Ben Goldacre asks the question, 'Why do clever people believe stupid things?' He says it's because we fail to understand the kind of people we are; we fail to grasp what it means to be human. I, too, struggle and try to use the gospel stories in these blogs to throw some light on the mystery of who we are. After all, God became human to show people what it means to be human. 'It is only in the reality of the Word made Flesh that the reality of humanity becomes clear' - GS 22.

Imitation of Christ means growing into the mind and heart of Christ. 'In order to discover ourselves we must appropriate and assimilate the reality of the Incarnation and Redemption,' wrote John Paul II in his first letter to the Church, 'Redeemer of Humanity' (10). That means that we cannot fully understand ourselves through scientific research alone. Science doesn't answer the question about the meaning of human life. Scientific knowledge comes from the interplay of mathematical and physical elements, not from human wisdom.

Wisdom is expressed in poetry and religion, music and literature, in human relationships and reflectiveness, in the ability to see beyond the superficial and the immediate, and in a particular way in religious faith. These are some of the sources from which comes our understanding of what it means to be human. The observation of of Vatican II is even more pressing today than when it was written in 1965: 'Our age needs such wisdom.....Indeed the future of the world is in danger unless wiser people are forth coming' - GS 15.

You may find this a bit philosophical and feel tempted to say, 'Just tell me what to do, when to do it and how to do it - that will be enough!' Thinking Catholics are moving beyond that kind of pragmatism, and are seeking today a deeper understanding of human life in the light of the Gospel. We need to read the Gospel today with imagination - much like we would read a poem or a piece of literature, listen to good music, or simply gaze in wonder at our pet dog or cat, or at the sunset or night sky. Our sixth sense for wonder and beauty is often underdeveloped.

British writer Karen Armstrong's recent book, 'Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life,' is a journey into the meaning of human life, and a great read. A compassionate Christ comes before us in this Sunday's Gospel. He emerges from the silence of a deserted place and his eyes rest with compassion on the hustling and bustling crowd. Like sheep without a shepherd, they were aimless and without focus or direction. We are that crowd; Jesus is the one to give us meaning. Listen carefully with your heart to the Gospel this Sunday.

The Gospel from the New American Bible says 'his heart was moved with pity for them.' Most other bibles use the word 'compassion' instead of 'pity.' There's a difference. 'Pity' has the dimension of 'looking down,' whereas 'compassion' is about feeling-together with people who are hurting or lost. Pity has a superior-inferior quality; compassion is about being at the same level. Compassion acknowledges and creates a link between people. It's a bridge-building attitude, an acknowledgment that we are all in the same boat. It turns the question, 'Who am I?" into the question 'Who are We?'
PASTOR EMERITUS

IS THE GOSPEL BELIEVABLE?

Jesus' healing miracles helped to make his message believable. In this Sunday's gospel we find him empowering his disciples to heal and cast out demons as part of their preaching. St. Luke tells us (but not St. Mark) that they returned rejoicing at the large numbers of people who 'got it.' Much of today's world doesn't seem to get it - functioning as it does in politics, economics and social structures with little or no reference to God.
Is the gospel, the age-old message of Christ, believable anymore? In order that the message be accepted there must be a connection between how it is presented and the mentality of those who are listening. The listening mind must be disposed to receive the message; the messenger needs to tune into his listeners' level. Our world has changed so much within one generation that it has become very challenging to make the pulpit connect with the pew. Many people today claim that the gospel feels irrelevant to their lives.

Our society is often called individualistic and narcissistic. While these are often seen in a negative light, there is something very positive about them too. We need to slow down and feel a sense of wonder about ourselves as human beings, get to that 'level of amazement at human worth and dignity that is called the Gospel' (John Paul II) - the good news that Jesus preached. Looked at in this way, the message of Christ is not all that irrelevant. It's deep in our own hearts waiting to be discovered by us.

Sunday's gospel story sees Jesus sending out his disciples to heal and to cast out demons. Demonic possession and physical illness or deformity can distort the reality of who we are, greatly diminish our sense of personal dignity and self-worth. Sin and society tell us that our value and worth come from achievement, brains, svelte physiques, other people's impression of us etc.. Christian revelation tells us that this is not so; our value and worth come from God: 'I praise you because I am wonderfully made,' says Psalm 139. We were 'chosen (loved) before the foundation of the world...so that we might exist for the praise of his glory' - wrote St. Paul in Ephesians 1:4-12.

God did not have to create us at all. He was and is completely happy and fulfilled without us. He made a free decision to have us around. That was/is a loving decision. His free creation of us goes on from moment to moment. Therein lies our dignity. We are here to be fully alive and to act so those around us come to have more life.

Our celebration of the Eucharist is the source and summit of who we are and how we are called to live. We are the people who are meant to live and celebrate the very meaning of life. St. Augustine says that when we say 'Amen' upon receiving holy communion, we are not only saying, 'Yes, I believe this is the Body of Christ,' but we are also saying, 'Yes, I believe we are the Body of Christ.' 'You are saying yes to your own mystery' - Sermon 272.

The gospel this Sunday is a call to awake from slumber, smell the roses and celebrate who we are - our dignity and our meaning, our value and our worth.

PASTOR EMERITUS

PRAY, PAY AND OBEY

The current trend among church leaders to turn the clock back to a time before the Second Vatican Council is a bad idea. We are being told that the Council has been misunderstood and misinterpreted over the past half century. I'm tired hearing about how those of us who lived through Vatican II have led the church down the wrong path. Most of the finger-pointing comes from church leaders today who were children at the time of the Council, had no experience of the pre-Vatican II church and were unaware of what the Council was accomplishing.

I was ordained priest during Vatican II and, like my peers at the time, felt the Council was the real ticket the church needed. Looking back over the past half century, I can see three major issues that Vatican II addressed. The first was how to modernize the church without upsetting the applecart of the age-old deposit of faith, the ancient message of Jesus Christ. The second was to clarify who runs the church: the Pope together with the bishops of the world or the Pope with the Vatican curia. The third concerned the manner by which the church should communicate and operate. Each has become a bone of contention in the church today.

First, the message of Christ is not an abstraction above and beyond the human beings who first received it and the generations of people who handed it on through the centuries. It is a message that is meant to be life-giving and meaningful to women and men of all times and cultures. The message makes the church. The church is a relationship between persons. Some of the Council bishops didn't see it like that and didn't want any change. The majority, however, saw it this way and voted for change. Today, there is a move in the Vatican to legislate in favor of the minority view. And so we have an emphasis on a doctrinal certitude today which is in danger of losing the message of Christ and the gospel in the geometrical absolutisms of 'orthodoxy.'

Second, a lightning-rod issue of the Council was the relationship that should pertain between the Pope and the bishops of the world. It came to be called 'collegiality.' What kind of authority did the bishops have over the church at large when they acted collectively? How was that authority exercised in relation to the Pope? Conservatives at the Council saw no authority role for bishops outside their own dioceses, contending that anything else would be incompatible with papal primacy. Bishops, they said, were nothing more than branch managers of local offices of the Holy See. The majority vote was in favor of the bishops together with the Pope being in charge of the church, and not just the Pope with the Vatican curia. Sadly, this vision of the Council has all but been lost.

Finally, the Council wrestled with the question of how should the church do business? Up to the time of Vatican II, the style was autocratic - characterized by denunciations, secrecy, and inquisitorial tactics. The majority voted in favor a style that would be more collaborative, that would eschew secret oaths, be more open and transparent, and respectful of those who disagreed. Over the past two decades or so autocracy has been on the rise again in the church. In certain ways, the church is starting to feel once more like the church of my Irish childhood: pray, pay and obey!

PASTOR EMERITUS