22 Ordinary
Sunday
Readings



The
Lourdes
August
2008
Page is...
HERE
God’s Choice
I
really love it when people you barely know, hearing
of or seeing a problem you are dealing with, pull out
the popular platitudes of the moment and throw them
in your direction. And they do mean well. They say
things like “the Chinese character for crisis
is the same as the one for opportunity.” Or
“God will never give you more than you can
handle.” After dispensing this wisdom, they
seemed shocked that you are not instantly more
positive, better, and happier. Again, it comes from a
good place, but it is not realistic. There are some
things that are not good, that we cannot manage and
that we really can’t handle. And we all know
them.
But is that popular wisdom wrong? Are these coping
skills a false hope of functionality? They are not.
It is true that a crisis is an opportunity. It is
true that the providential will of God is never
without His grace. The problem is a little deeper.
And we see it today in St. Peter. He hears the harsh
and crushing words of Jesus that speak of the cross.
And from a good place, he says, “No. This is
too awful for you. You don’t deserve to be
treated like that. We can find a different way more
suited to a productive use of your time and talents.
Master, how can any good come of this so long as you
are thinking like that?” Yes, these are words
of a friend. These are the sentiments of one who
truly cares for another. But Jesus responds with a
word we can find callous. He tells Peter not that his
feelings are wrong, but his thinking. He says that
Peter is thinking in the most limited way we can. We
choose to think as if our thoughts were the highest
of standards.
Jeremiah was feeling tricked and cheated by God since
there he was, preaching a divinely inspired message
that was greeted only with opposition and even
violence. He thought, as normal people do, of just
giving up on the whole thing. He asked if there
wouldn’t be an easier, more efficient way of
doing things. But he finds under all his
understanding and feelings something much deeper. It
was a burning that could not be put into words. It
was a certain something prodding him onward to keep
preaching, to keep living the grace God had given
him. He discovered that there was a thinking higher
than his own, a purpose greater than his plans. Peter
would discover this later even though now he was only
beginning his walk with Christ. St. Paul even went
farther and saw that the highest devotion was found
in a total offering of life and limb as a spiritual
offering to the Father in imitation of the Son
Himself.
So is our God one who sets up moments of misery to
have us rise to the heights of glory? Does God, as
Jeremiah said, dupe us?
From the human point of view, the answer can be
justified as a yes. After all, innocents become
victims, by-standers become statistics. And this is
the hard part. Because our human point of view is so
often our only point of view, we have trouble with
things like the cross, and suffering and difficulty.
Our natural instincts for self-preservation kick in
and we create a God who supports our agreeable
premise. I really don’t think there is any
natural way out of this. Seeing beyond the obvious or
even the imagined is not a human skill.
But what if there was another vision? What if we,
caught in our sadness and worry, could try to view
things from God’s vantage point? What if we
took seriously the Incarnation and made an act of
faith that in Christ, there is no problem too severe
or no difficulty that is final? Yes, we love the
idea; it’s the specifics we have a problem
with. If the Gospel of Mercy of Jesus Christ is a
true union of words and life – found in the
Passion and resurrection – then things have to
be different.
And they are. We pray for the Father’s will to
be dine in us - even if we don’t like it. We
call for Divine healing when we are sick. We plead
for pardon at the times we have no right to ask for
it. And, yes, we have a God who loves us even as He
allows some awful situations to become our pulpits.
No, maybe not the venue we’d choose but they
are the ones God has chosen.
And God has chosen you. Not the perfect you or the
healthier you. Not the more skilled or most
attractive you. Just you. Do you think you’re
not worthy? You’re right; you are not. But God
is and His choice is sovereign. He’s promised
us eternal life, not prolonged existence. And through
weak, sinful and prone to messing it up, we are the
instruments of the Kingdom.
18 Ordinary
Sunday
Readings



The
Lourdes
August
2008
Page is...
HERE
Well...I’m going back to Lourdes with the Order
of Malta Youth Pilgrimage 8-18 August. I am thrilled
to have another opportunity to go over to this
wonderful place. Being there in the 150th Anniversary
Year - as well as on the Feast of the Assumption -
makes it even more so.
(And
now....the homily and the
real
reason you came to this page)
Good
God
During
the ‘Great Hunger’ in Ireland in the
mid-1800’s, there were some unscrupulous folks
who offered the starving masses soup and nourishment
– if they converted to another religion. Those
who accepted the bribe were known as
‘soupers’ and a common caution was -
‘don’t accept the soup.’ We see it
today as foreign governments accept aid in times of
disaster and replace the symbol of the country that
gave the food with their own. On the other hand, the
Quakers to this day are remembered for their
unqualified generosity to the people of Ireland in
those terrible times and many in Europe still recall
the American aid in their darkest hours of World War
II.
Is God playing the same game? Is God offering us His
blessings in order to get our allegiance? From the
human point of view, this seems to be the case. He
invites us to the banquet in the first reading from
Isaiah and actually feeds us in the Gospel miracle of
the feeding of 5000. He offers us that celestial
banquet of the Eucharist foreshadowing an unrivaled
eternal celebration. And as we hear and begin to
accept this invitation, we start finding out that we
have to give things up, act a certain way and even
suffer willingly. A classic bait and switch to the
casual observer.
And that observer would be correct save for one
interfering reality. It’s wrong.
Yes, there is the offer of grace and, yes, it is a
conversation that demands a response. Our gracious
God will provide for us and will do so even if we
call on Him only in the bad times. But the moment we
begin to think that God’s goodness depends on
how deserving we are of it, it is clearly not God we
are talking about. When we filter, define and demand
that God’s generosity be subject to our
appreciation of it, we have missed out on it. And in
mistaking it, we blame and ignore God for not
bestowing it. Like spoiled children, we condemn
ourselves to a life of spiritual cheapness as we
lament a ‘god’ who is good to others, but
not to us.
Come now, be honest, we all do it! We find it hard to
rejoice that God seems to be good to folks we know
are unworthy! We begrudge a common joy to
another’s success as if it were something we
have lost ourselves. We go so far as to lament that
God makes the sun shine on the just and the wicked
alike.
What’s the answer to this? St. Paul asks the
question that we have too-often answered wrongly for
ourselves.
What can separate us from the love of
Christ? His answer is clear –
nothing. Nothing in us or outside us, nothing of our
making or of a demonic influence can separate us from
the goodness of God. What St. Paul is saying is that
the offer in Isaiah and the bounty of the
Christ’s miracle has nothing to do with us; it
is all about God – and God alone. It is pure
grace that cannot be earned, cheapened, or even
defined by our unwillingness to accept it as it is.
God is good whether we are or are not.
Sure, we can refuse it by a choice to reject it, but
that doesn’t mean it disappears. The
beautifully annoying quality of grace is that it just
keeps on going and going and going… Rain is
water that comes down from the sky and even in our
age of bottled water, it is still free. And we may
not prefer its packaging or frequency, but it is
there. We can shelter ourselves from it and cover up
from it, but it is still there. Gerard Manley
Hopkins, quoted by Pope Benedict in Australia, once
said that
the world is charged with the grandeur of
God. The
goodness of God is evident even in the quickest
counting of anyone’s blessing.
How could we ever put a price on this goodness? How
could we cheapen it and lower it to a bribe or a
scam? And even if we do, isn’t God’s
goodness so far beyond the restraining walls that we
can set for it? In our need, our joy, our desperate
moments, our sinful ones, our occasions of
thanksgiving – can we not see that goodness of
God?
In many cases looking for the good in things is an
affirmation of the better angels of our fallen human
nature. And this is very true. But to seek and desire
the vision of that Goodness in our life of faith is a
little more. To see the goodness of God is to begin
to see God Himself. To appreciate the bounty of God
is to share in it already. To be fed by God is to
know God. When we are tempted to deny, doubt or
question that goodness, God invites us again and
again saying, as they do in Washington Heights,
‘chilax – you know I love you.’
And the goodness of every moment proves it.


