Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

We are called to be servants: to our Parent; to the person they created us to be; to our brothers and sisters, especially the ones we find most inconvenient; and to the glorious canvas upon which all this living art is pouring itself out. Yes, this truth is hard. We struggle against it mightily. But the more we chase freedom, the more we find ourselves in conflict with those whom we are meant to serve. Pick a hot-button issue, dig down to its source, and you will likely find someone struggling to rid themselves of the obligations that bind them to some other element of our family. We crave liberty; and yet over and over again, we end up oppressing everyone, even ourselves. Yes, we can taste and see so many exotic things by rebelling against our calling, but grace will not be among them.

So choose grace, right? Except we all know that grace is oftentimes the last thing we want to taste or see, because it can be bitter and humiliating. I recently began my third year of work as a campus aide at a public middle school. One of my duties is lunch supervision, which includes asking the students to clean up after themselves, and then doing it for them after they inevitably leave their trash behind. So there I was on the first day of classes, sweeping up spilled salad, when this new student wonders aloud about what it is like to be a janitor. I bristled. And then I remembered the real janitor: who gives more of himself than anyone else at that school; who remains kind and joyful, no matter how often his generosity is taken advantage of; who shares his friendship abundantly with children and adults alike; who is a servant in the noblest sense of the word. And I was ashamed. Grace shows us the ugly truth when we choose to ignore our calling, and that is always beautiful. So yes, choose grace.

Joshua 24:1-18; Psalms 34:2-21; Ephesians 5:21-32; John 6:60-69

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

"To the one who lacks understanding, She says, Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed!" Soon, the bishops of the world will assemble once more to discern how the Church can better serve our family. And of the many hot topics on their agenda, the policy on Eucharist for the divorced and remarried will be among the hottest. My hope is that Wisdom's call still rings in our bishops' ears as they enter into their dialogues. Perhaps then, they will realize that we have turned the bread of life into a trophy for those who have already forsaken foolishness and ignorance, when it is really needed as fuel for those who are struggling on the journey to such a destination. They need Eucharist. We all need Eucharist. So let us help one another to the table, that we might taste and see grace.

Proverbs 9:1-6; Psalms 34:2-9; Ephesians 5:15-20; John 6:51-58

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

How often do we fail to taste and see our Parent's goodness because we expect grace to be bigger or bolder? Bread and water for a weary prophet. The neighbor kid as incarnation. A simple cross. We do not think of God as ordinary, and that is a shame. For such thinking puts the Divine in a box, a pretty one perhaps but a box nonetheless, only to be experienced on special occasions. It leaves us blindly stumbling through life oblivious to the grace surrounding us, oblivious to the grace within us. So taste and see the goodness of your Lord. It is abundant. It is everywhere. And it is enough.

1 Kings 19:4-8; Psalms 34:2-9; Ephesians 4:30-5:2; John 6:41-51

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life." These words should be in the back of our minds every time we seek to do right by our brothers and sisters. Yes, we must eat and drink to stay alive. And yes, we must make our cultures and societies more just and merciful to keep us all well. None of this, however, is what we truly need. We need to experience grace. And we need to recognize one another as family. But this latter need cannot be fulfilled through our default mechanics of law and politics. Family cannot be mandated or regulated. No, we must choose to have empathy for those siblings who have done us wrong. And then we must choose to love them.

I write these words with recent headlines in mind. Abortion videos. Police misconduct. Trophy hunts for lions, tigers, and bears. Children growing up in seedy motels. Oh my indeed. There is no shortage of evil in this world, and we must do our best to fight it. But we must never be under the illusion that we can fix it. We are called to be the kingdom, not to build one. Sometimes, oftentimes, this will not feel like enough, but it is. Faith, hope, and love are always enough, if we choose them.

Exodus 16:2-15; Psalms 78:3-54; Ephesians 4:17-24; John 6:24-35

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Each of us is that boy on the mountain. Each of us has something that our brothers and sisters need. Will you offer it up, trusting God to provide enough for everyone? Or will you hold it close, trusting you and only you to fill your own belly? Yes, the latter seems more logical, more American. But it is most surely not "a manner worthy of the call you have received." So each of us has a choice to make: Who will you trust to feed you? And who will you trust to answer your deepest needs?

2 Kings 4:42-44; Psalms 145:10-18; Ephesians 4:1-6; John 6:1-15

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

You are my shepherd. I know no other. I follow no other. I am your useless servant. I am your sheep. To call myself such words does me no harm. I am not left disparaged or degraded by such truths. On the contrary, to be your sheep is to walk through this life with eyes of wonder and joy. And to be your useless servant is to know that I can never fail you, never disappointment you. You guide me, guard me, and love me. There is truly nothing for which I want. Alleluia, alleluia.

Jeremiah 23:1-6; Psalms 23:1-6; Ephesians 2:13-18; Mark 6:30-34

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation." I was so young when you took me and told me to speak for you. I didn't have a clue. Not a fucking clue. How I wish you had instructed me like you did the Twelve. Instead, you made me wander, with authority over nothing. I'm tired. So very fucking tired. It feels like all I ever do is shake the dust off my feet. But you chose me. You sent me forth. What else can I do except move on to the next place? So please, my friend, please show your useless servant mercy, and lavish me with your grace. Alleluia, alleluia.

Amos 7:12-15; Psalms 85:8-14; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:7-13

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Yes, we are a rebellious people, "hard of face and obstinate of heart." But what does that mean when it comes to same-sex marriage? Which of us are the truly defiant ones? Perhaps the problem is that we spend too much time debating politics, when we should be pondering the essential questions. Why does same-sex attraction exist? Is it a tragic defect in the natural order of things or a manifestation of divine will? Which is a greater act of disbelief: to deny the reality of the former or the possibility of the latter? And which is a position of greater weakness: to believe that God has already revealed all there is to reveal, or to acknowledge that they have an abundance of surprises in store for us? So gaze into the hearts of your brothers and sisters, and your own as well, then answer the question.

Ezekiel 2:2-5; Psalms 123:1-4; 2 Corinthians 12:7-10; Mark 6:1-6

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

At the beginning of this month, my cousin died of cancer. Nicole was a few months shy of her fortieth birthday. She had prayed for a miraculous healing. It did not come. Two days after her death, the son of a dear friend celebrated his fiftieth birthday. Kevin has lived with major medical problems for almost all of those years. He was not supposed to live past four. But grace has rained down upon him. Why? Why does one survive and one not? How many in the crowd surrounding Jesus hoped for a miracle, a healing, for themselves or a loved one? Why were two rewarded, but not the rest?

Life and death. It all feels so capricious. And that notion is exactly what we need to be rescued from. But like a man struggling not to drown, we must trust the arms of our rescuer first. Are you willing to submit to your Parent's logic? Are you willing to surrender to their control? And what might they show you if you are so willing? After my cousin's death, a group of her friends took charge of all the funeral arrangements, allowing her immediate family to simply grieve. So perhaps Nicole's prayers did not go unanswered. And perhaps Kevin has a new guardian angel. Wishful thinking, or a glimpse into grace? I choose to praise our Master and to believe myself rescued. What will you choose?

Wisdom 1:13-2:24; Psalms 30:2-13; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

"Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?" Hard questions, especially right now, but ones we need to hear. Those most affected by the terrorist attack in South Carolina certainly heard them. And we know how they responded to the challenge: with words of forgiveness and mercy towards the man who killed their loved ones. Yes, we should admire such faith. But we must also be on guard against the temptation to water it down into feel-good platitudes or quick-fix solutions. Faith is not meant to be easy or comfortable. The cross attests to as much. Our brothers and sisters at Mother Emanuel have picked up theirs and embarked upon that long, hard road. Will we join them?

And what if we did join them? What might that look like? Might it mean facing up to history we have conveniently ignored? Yes. Or banishing symbols of hatred and oppression from our public spaces? Yes. Or even perhaps the consideration of reparations to those whose lives we have plundered for far too long? Yes. And those are just the easy ones. The hard part comes when we must burrow into our hearts and minds to find those places where we simply refuse to love our neighbors, and then realize that we cannot rip out such cancers nor heal such wounds. The uncomfortable truth of sin is that we are incapable of being the family we are called to be, even as we are obliged to pursue it.

So what do we do? Do we drown ourselves in feel-good platitudes and quick-fix solutions? Or do we wake up and embrace a bold and daring faith? A faith that rebukes injustice and orders misery to be still, while knowing full well that neither will go away. A faith that loves ones enemies, even when they hold a sword to your throat. A faith that claims that, no matter how dire the situation may be, evil will never stand victorious. A faith that trusts our Parent and the strange kingdom they wish us to inherit. Yes, let us give thanks to our Master, for their grace is magnificent and everlasting.

Job 38:1-11; Psalms 107:1-31; 2 Corinthians 5:14-17; Mark 4:35-41