A Poignant Weekend

I shared in two deaths this weekend. One was an infant, the other a young boy under the age of ten. Both from families far from home. Sometimes there is so little to say, you don't know what to say, the pain and confusion is overwhelming, but silence and a calm kindness can somehow be enough and more. That was the first. Sometimes you may say so little, feel so inadaquate, but the love and grief already present is so beautifully dignified that it fills in the blanks and there is no need to say more. That was the second.

The Holy Spirit is the real consoler, this I know; but I cannot escape that very human desire to want to be able to personally ease the pain of the other. I guess that one would not embrace the role of "chaplain" if this were not so. But this art is not a skill like writing or even athletics. It should never be practiced glibly, presumptively, out of one's own need rather than the other's. Being an instrument truly means being used; one must learn the when and how of getting out of the way. The pain of a parent whose child is dying is truly like no other pain, and I would dishonor it if I pretended to know otherwise. Humility is a truly appropriate attitude.

Being fully awake to another's pain and grief, though, is thoroughly exhausting in the short run. I returned to my Father's Day dinner, gratefully enjoyed how my children have lately become good and wise all without my help, reveled in my 1-yr-old granddaughter's energy, and was nearly asleep when I hit the pillow.

. . . Make me a channel of your peace. Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, only light. And where there's sadness, ever joy. . .

Grateful Generosity on Corpus Christi

I gave the following homily last weekend here at St. Bridget. I was both glad to give it and somewhat worried. Both feelings stem from the same thing; namely, that I knew this particular homily would have very personal meanings for a lot of parishioners.

St. Bridget is an affluent parish; hence, talking about graditude and generosity was going to hit some parishioners "right where they live." When I spoke about some people not being satisfied, but always wanting more...I knew I was to be speaking to a fair lot of people who had million-dollar homes with BMW's in the driveway. When I said "If we are not generous with little, what reason is there to believe we would be generous with much," I knew there were more than a couple of "much" people who were giving "below their means."

All in all, though, no one walked out, and a lot of people said it made them think. Well, it made me think, too, so that fits.

This homily would also work by reference to Stewardship -- gratitude and generosity are two of the things that are especially pertinent. I might find some way to use it in the fall.

Corpus Christi (C), June 10, 2007

Today’s gospel reading tells a story that is both familiar and strange. It is familiar in the sense that we have heard it so many times that we can probably recite it from memory. It is strange in that it’s hard to fully understand, and we’re never quite sure what it means. In fact, cynics have fun with this story. They point to it as one more piece of evidence that the Bible is full of nonsense. And some Christians to rush in to defend the story, by insisting that at the touch of Jesus the five loaves and two fish suddenly became thousands of loaves and thousands of fish. Ask them how they know that, and their answer might be “Well, it’s right there in the Bible”; but the fact is that it’s not right there in the Bible. This story is told in all four of the Gospels, and none of them makes that claim. But rather than get bogged down in that debate, let’s see if we can look to what the story means.

What we do know is that, starting with five barley loaves and two fish, Jesus and his disciples fed over five thousand people, and what they had at the end was more than they had at the start. We might call this God’ miracle of abundance .. a miracle so amazing that afterwards people began to follow Jesus everywhere – John’s gospel even says that the crowds wanted to make him king. In terms of faith, I see two very important things going on here – two things that things that make this abundance possible.

The first is gratitude. “Taking the five loaves and the two fish, Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and pronounced a blessing over them.” To the disciples, that slim supply of food had seemed a reason to complain, no cause for rejoicing. They said, “We have nothing but five loaves and two fish.” Their focus was on how little they had, and it didn’t occur to them to be grateful. And after all, who could blame them? What they had was so much less than what was needed; one would hardly expect them to be grateful for it.

This morning, let us speak to ourselves and look within ourselves. And if we are honest, we cannot deny the importance of gratitude in our lives. Isn’t it true that an ungrateful person can just never seem to have enough of anything? That seems true enough to me. Suppose that I am able to pay my bills and live reasonably well, but instead of being grateful for that, I am constantly looking for more. I have a comfortable house, but I want a larger one. I have one car, but I want two. I can afford to play golf at Jackson, but I want to belong to Sandpoint or Broadmoor [expensive golf clubs in the area]. If that is my mindset, just how much will it take to make me contented with what I have? My guess is that it will always… take… more. An ungrateful person can just never have enough.

Look instead at what Jesus did. He held in his hands five barley loaves and two fish, a typical peasant’s lunch for a small band of disciples. But Jesus stopped, focused his full attention on that, and took the time to be genuinely grateful for it. And somehow, in some way, in the act of being grateful for these gifts, they became enough; they became more than enough. To the early Church, this story was clearly about the Eucharist. You heard the words from our second reading today, they’re almost the same words: “On the night he was betrayed, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it” and then gave it to his friends. Even that word, Eucharist, gives us a clue. It is a Greek word that literally means thankfulness. Our Church’s central act of worship is an expression of thankfulness. This sacred spirit of gratitude must not be something we assume in one moment and dismiss in the next. It is an attitude that should pervade all of life. The person who can be genuinely grateful for the gifts of life will always be rich. The person who is unable to do that will be forever poor. Gratitude is a power that can take even a peasant’s lunch and transform it into an abundant feast.

The second factor in God’s miraculous abundance is generosity. That slim supply of food, just five loaves and two fish, seemed so small, so insufficient. But Jesus was not only grateful for it; he was generous with it. He shared it with the crowd. And somehow in that act of sharing it became enough; and then, more than enough. If we look at this honestly, we know that life really does work this way. The person who feels he has too little to share will probably never have enough to share. If we are not generous with little, what reason is there to believe that we would be generous with much?

We know too that being generous covers a wider field than economics. In fact, generosity is a way of living. Toward those who disagree with us, we can be generous in our understanding. Toward those whose looks, thoughts, and actions are different from ours, we can be generous in acceptance. Toward those who get on our nerves, we can be generous in patience. Toward those who would do us harm, we can be generous in forgiveness. To those who are discouraged, we can be generous in praise. To those whose hearts are breaking, we can be generous in compassion. In a world filled with hatred, we can be generous with love.

I challenge you, just as I challenge myself, to put this principle into practice and watch God’s abundance at work. When it comes to the finest qualities of life, sharing will never diminish our supply. The more understanding we give, the more we have. The more patience we practice, the more patient we become. The more love we share, the more our lives will be filled with love. What we have at the end will always be more than we had at the beginning.

They started with five barley loaves and two small fish, for which Jesus was genuinely grateful with which he was gladly generous. Our gospel reports the incredible result. “They all ate until they had enough. What they had left, over and above, filled twelve baskets.” That… is God’s miraculous abundance.

Deacon Denny Duffell

Generosity as a National Policy

I generally enjoy John Dear's column in the National Catholic Reporter, but this one (column of June 5, 2007) is so good it must be shared. It's good in the sense that it's well-written, but it's also good; i.e., moral. Don't you think it would also be far more practical than what we're doing right now? It would make a huge difference in Iraq; it would make a huge difference in the third world; and we might actually reclaim some international respect.