It's Not How You Start, It's How You Finish

 

29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Ex 17:8-13

2 Tim 3:14-4:2

Lk 18:1-8

 

Jim Redmond died three years ago this month at the age of 81. You probably don’t remember him, but he was the father of Derek Redmond, the British sprinter who tore his hamstring in the 400 meter qualifying race in the 1992 Olympics. Upon Jim’s death the media ran clips again of that emotional moment in Barcelona when Derek pulled up limping early in the race. He fell to the ground and writhed in pain, but what was really excruciating to see was the agony in his face, the crushing disappointment that all those years of struggle, pain, training and preparation had come crashing down in an instant. He would not fulfill his dream of an Olympic medal after all.

 

Derek could have just laid there, but he struggled to his feet and began limping around the track. That determination to finish would in and of itself have been an heroic example of drive and perseverance, but suddenly a middle aged man came running onto the track. It was his father, Jim, who ran up behind his son, put his arm around him, and helped him limp along towards the finish line. You can imagine he had been there throughout his son’s entire track career, from high school through college, sacrificing alongside Derek, supporting him in his goal of winning Olympic gold. But for Jim it was more than just disappointment. Like any loving father he also felt the pain of his son’s agony. Like any good father he needed to be there to console his son, but even moreso, to continue to support him in the face of disaster. Jim could have told his son to stop, to make the pain go away, to give up. But instead he put his arm around him as he wept and they limped down the track together.

 

Several officials tried to stop him, because helping Derek would disqualify him from the race. Jim kept pushing them away. It was not just Derek’s race; it was Jim’s as well. It didn’t matter if they were disqualified. They had to finish. That was all that mattered. They had started this race years ago together and they had to finish it together. Jim had been there to celebrate all of Derek’s wins, now he was there also at the lowest point in his life. All you heard Jim say was “He’s my son, he’s my son.”

 

Derek never competed effectively again, and if he had won that race you probably would not remember his name today. But his heroic drive to finish, his persistence in the face of terrible disappointment and pain, made his performance, and his father’s actions that day, immortal. So much so that 30 years later his father was remembered for it on the day he died, and the inspiration millions of people have received from that moment in time is his legacy.

 

It’s not how you start that matters, it’s how you finish.

 

Excellence in anything requires hard work, sacrifice, preparation and practice. We believe this, it’s in our DNA. We have something deep within us that drives us and inspires us to win. It’s more than just a competitive spirit; when we have a worthy goal or purpose we can achieve amazing, unbelievable, heroic results. We see it in all areas of our lives, in sports, in our work, in our relationships, and we idolize our heroes who reach the pinnacle of their dreams, especially if they have had to overcome overwhelming obstacles.

 

There’s a reason why that drive is so much a part of human nature. It’s not just so we can succeed in our earthly goals. God put that drive in us to help us achieve the ultimate goal in life of our own salvation. Never, ever, ever give up on your faith. All other endeavors pale in comparison. Never cease to pray, to study, to train, to practice your faith. It doesn’t matter what setbacks you encounter in life. Keep your eye on the goal and persevere to the end. It’s all about finishing the race.

 

When Jesus told the disciples how difficult it is to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, they threw up their hands in frustration and asked, “Then can anyone be saved?” Jesus gives us the key today. Be persistent in your prayer to the point of annoyance. Pray always and everywhere, pray constantly, make your entire life a prayer, never stop asking your Father for what you need, never stop praising him, never stop asking for forgiveness, never stop thanking him for his mercy. Never stop serving others. Never cease to love.

 

And if you tire, get your friends to help you. Like Moses in our first reading, when you just can’t keep doing it, when the battle seems lost, when there is no hope, surround yourself with people who will hold up your hands for you and keep you steady. Stay faithful together around the common goal and help each other get to heaven. Help each other be faithful. Faith cannot be experienced or lived outside of a community of believers. One person is not an army. Just as top athletes require coaching and support from others, you cannot be saved alone.

If we are truly to live the Kingdom of God, our faith cannot be something we just think about on Sundays or when we sit down at the dinner table. Our awareness of the presence of God must be foremost in our thoughts and in our actions. And so often it is the simple, mundane actions of our lives that can be the most heroic.

We usually expect that sort of devotion from our priests, don’t we? I mean, it’s their job, right? But they have the same busy lives as we do, they are pulled in so many different directions, they get tired and frustrated, too. Do we hold ourselves to the same standards? It’s inconvenient to drop everything to be by the side of a sick friend. Do it anyway. It’s hard to tear yourself away from your computer to listen to your teenager complain about what her friends did to her that day at school. Do it anyway. Never cease to do good. Never take your eye off of the people around you. Anticipate their needs. Never expect anything in return. Forgive one another constantly. Never hold back your love because you are not shown love in return. Never say it’s someone else’s job to care. It’s yours. Never rest on your laurels. Never give up on God because He has never and will never give up on you.

 

Don’t worry if it will be enough. It will never be enough. And yet it will always be enough.

Image Jesus Christ who was persistent until the very end, giving his last ounce of strength and last drop of blood for your redemption. Even on the cross, he forgave those who were torturing him. Even if you run the race poorly you can finish well. He promised paradise to a criminal who at the very last moments of his life repented of his sins. Victory is yours for the taking if you never give up.

 

The story of Jim Redmond is a perfect metaphor for God. God is with us throughout our entire race. He coaches us, guides us, inspires us, and admonishes us. He rejoices with us in our victories and shares in our deepest disappointments and suffering. God doesn’t care how many times we fall and fail. He is there to pick us up from the ground, put his arm around us and limp along with us to the finish line.

 

Like any good father would do.

Find Holiness in the Ordinary

 

16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

I think we can relate to poor Martha in today’s gospel. We are so anxious and worried about so many things. Only one thing is required.

Summertime is a time for barbecues and weddings and such. There are so many events going on here, so many things to prepare for, so many visitors in town and in our homes. Many of us travel to see family and friends and welcome them as they visit us. Summer is the time for vacations. Summer is a time for connections. Summer is a time of hospitality. And oftentimes summer is a time for worry and anxiety over so many things to do, so many things to get ready for, so many details to attend to.

Most of us feel like Martha but would love to be Mary.

There are some people who have chosen to spend their entire lives or careers studying the scriptures and serving God. They seem to be singularly focused on Jesus. Nothing else is as important as learning all they can from and about him. And Jesus says today that that is the better portion. Did Jesus mean we are to ignore everything except that type of singular focus?

Most of us have not chosen the studious or professed religious or contemplative life. Most of us are living and working in the world. We have families and careers and mortgages. We take our relationships very seriously, especially our relationship with Jesus. We invite him into our lives, just as Martha invited Jesus into hers. We strive to keep Jesus the center of our lives, even as busy as we are.

It is important, no, vital, that we all study and listen and internalize the Word of God if we are to be his disciples. For he has the words of eternal life. But we must do that in the midst of the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives.

Martha wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was doing what custom said she was supposed to do. She was being the good hostess. She was the good servant.

There is grace in hospitality. Martha was serving, but Mary was being fed.

Martha was focused on serving Jesus in a worldly way, worried about the traditions and requirements of hospitality. Mary was focused on the servant himself. Martha was making things complicated; Mary was keeping it simple. Martha was concerned with getting it just right; Mary was concerned with her relationship with Jesus.

And I think that is really what Jesus was getting at. He wasn’t telling Martha that what she was doing wasn’t necessary or important. Somebody had to make dinner. Martha’s problem was that she wasn’t serving with joy. She was resenting her sister and begrudging her tasks. What was important was that Jesus was in their midst. He was there right in front of them, and that was where they should focus. There would always be time to cook and clean and attend to the details of living. But when Jesus is present in our midst we should not worry about all those things and just be in his presence.

There are a lot of preparations that must be made for our liturgies to be sacred times. It takes the efforts of over 80 people to celebrate our weekend Masses alone. But when Jesus is in our midst that is where we should focus. It’s tough sometimes to get everything set up, get all the people in their places, handle all the little mishaps that inevitably spring up, and still be able to let it all go and experience the living Jesus in our midst.

It is hard to get up early on a Sunday morning, get the kids washed, dressed and fed, herd everyone into the pew, clean up the spilled Cheerios, fuss with a crying baby, and still be able to experience the living Jesus in our midst. It’s hard to turn off the world for a few moments to be in the presence of Christ. We come here to experience a bit of peace in our week. We come here to enter into the transcendent, to enter into the mystery. Our everyday lives can be so worrisome and complicated. Here things should be simpler. Here it should be all about Jesus.

But liturgy is messy. People are messy. There are many times I think that we come here hoping to find peace and be fed, but distractions in the church and worries about our problems do not allow us to just sit at the feet of Jesus and be in his presence. We can’t just flip a switch and the world goes away. And Jesus knows that. I think we can still find joy in the midst of our distractions and worries. Joy is a decision. We acknowledge our problems but we do not let them wear us down. We don’t come here to escape the world, but to make the world holy. Our presence here is as important to Jesus as his presence here is to us.

St. John says that the same Martha who was so worried about getting it right was the one who declared Jesus to be the Messiah when her brother Lazarus died. It was Martha who came out to meet Jesus before he even came into the village. She had been waiting for him and looking for him. Mary stayed at home. Mary the student did not go out in search of the Master that day. Martha the servant did.

The person who was so concerned with convention and doing everything just right is the one who found Jesus in the end. It was the servant who recognized the savior. It seems that Martha had taken Jesus’ admonition to heart.

So don’t worry about it. Seek first the kingdom of God, and its righteousness, and all other things will be given to you. Keep your focus on what is truly important, on who is truly important, and all the other things will work out. Serve one another with joy, and I think you’ll find Jesus there, too.

We can find holiness in the ordinary. We are here in the 16^th week of ordinary time, and while technically all ordinary time means in the liturgical year is that we are not celebrating any of the great feast seasons such as Advent, Lent and Easter, the fact that there are far many more weeks in Ordinary Time than in the other seasons is a sign that most of the time we are living our ordinary lives, doing all the everyday things that can seem so routine and cause us so much stress. And in the middle of all of that Jesus is there, making the ordinary extraordinary.

I think it is important that we take time out of the busyness of our lives to recharge with Jesus. Sit at his feet and just spend time with him. Take a half hour a week and pray in quiet here before the Blessed Sacrament. Go on retreat every once in a while. Simply create a habit of prayer every day to build your relationship with God. It’s those little connection points with Jesus that make all the difference. They keep us focused, help us live worry-free, and give us hope.

Corpus Christi

 

Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

Cycle C

Recently, the Pew Research Center published the results of a study they undertook of Catholics and members of other Christian denominations who no longer attend religious services. Among Catholic respondents who rarely attend Mass, 47 percent said they practice their faith in other ways. Under 20 percent said they rarely attended because they haven’t found a church they like, they don’t like the sermons, or they don’t feel welcome.

Catholic churchgoers were somewhat more likely than other other Christian churchgoers to say it was important to attend church to continue the family’s religious traditions; to please family, a spouse or partner; or to fulfill a religious obligation. They were less likely than other Christians to attend in order to become closer to God, to become a better person, to find comfort in times of sorrow, or to be a part of a community of faith.

I find it striking that nowhere in the study is a belief in the real presence of Christ in the eucharist even mentioned. Maybe that’s why they no longer attend. All those reasons listed for no longer attending or even believing are really just symptoms of a total misunderstanding of what being Catholic is really all about. They are really very self-centered reasons that focus on superficial things, me-centered things. There is no sense of gratitude or even understanding of the gift.

Let’s take just one of these findings, the largest percentage, almost half, that say that they practice their faith in other ways. They claim to be Catholic, and believe in God, but don’t come to Mass. For a Catholic, how can there be any other way to practice your faith than the eucharist? To us, the eucharist is not something we do, it is who we are. You cannot find that anywhere else but here, in the Mass. People who try to fill their souls in other ways will never be satisfied. It isn’t about tradition, or the sermon, or an obligation, or even finding a convenient Mass time. It’s about Jesus Christ giving himself to us in the most intimate way possible.

They don’t understand the gift.

We hear the remarkable declaration of Jesus in John’s gospel that unless we eat his body and drink his blood, we will have no life within us. John also tells us that when Jesus said this, all but the twelve left him. Each and every one of his disciples, except for his closest friends, left him. Each and every person who had been hoping that Jesus was the promised messiah, left him. Each and every person who he had miraculously fed with the loaves and fishes, left him. Each and every person who had just before wanted to declare him king, left him.

They didn’t understand the gift.

The gift is why I am Catholic. No matter what happens in the world, in the church, and in my life, it is this declaration of Jesus that keeps me here. Because I desire life. I crave life. Not just life here on earth but eternal life.

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
has eternal life,
and I will raise him on the last day. 

Isn’t that what it’s all about? Life is one. My life and yours had a beginning but will have no end. It is all the same. And I want to have it. I want life in its fullest. I want the gift. I am grateful for the gift.

The word eucharist literally means thanksgiving. St. Paul says to give thanks always and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father. And that is what the Mass is. The Mass is gratitude for the gift. Have you ever been so full of joy about something, so full of the knowledge that something was good and positive and true that you felt it filling your heart? Have you ever wanted someone to feel what you feel and know what you know so badly that it physically hurt? And when the other person couldn’t understand it or feel it like you did you wanted to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? “Don’t you see it? Can’t you see how important this is? Can’t you see how important this is to you, to me, to all of us? How can you not see it, how can you not feel what I feel? What can I do to help you understand?”

I feel that way oftentimes during Mass, and not because of the people I see here on Sunday. It is because of those who are not here. As western civilization rushes to secularization, our Masses are not as well attended, our churches are closing, and people who once were believers are leaving in record numbers, moving from belief to unbelief in anything. And it saddens me deeply. People are leaving Jesus now just as they left him then. Jesus was saddened by their lack of understanding, but he let them go. He didn’t call after them, “Wait, I didn’t mean it literally. I meant it was just a symbol!” No, he doubled down. “For my flesh is real food and my blood real drink”.

He wasn’t speaking symbolically, he wasn’t using hyperpole, it wasn’t a metaphor, a euphamism, sarcasm, irony, exaggeration, a simile, alliteration, or even a haiku. What is was is crazy. It was plainly spoken and plainly intended. “Eat my body and drink my blood. Do this in remembrance of me.” It is both an invitation and a command. How can this be? This is hard to understand and even harder to take. Who does he think he is?

I don’t understand it and never will. I will never be able to wrap my brain about how it happens. I just know why it happens. For life within me. And that’s enough for me. I trust Jesus. I trust he is who he says he is. I trust that he has given me the church, made up of imperfect people, to guide me along the way. All we are are beggars helping each other to find bread.

The world is starving, humanity is starving, and yet we refuse to eat. There is a great banquet laid out before us, a spiritual feast that will fulfill all hunger and desire, and we refuse to eat. Why do we not recognize nor understand the gift?

Why do you come here? Do you come every Sunday or just when it’s convenient? Do you look forward to coming? Do you participate fully and actively? Not because you are supposed to but because you feel compelled to by the love within your heart? Why are you here? Is it out of a sense of obligation, or is it out of love for the gift? Will you also leave? Where else would you go? Where else can you hear the words of everlasting life? Where else would you receive the gift?

And what do you do with the gift you have received? Do you leave here on Sunday so full of joy that you feel compelled to tell everyone you see what you have experienced? And when they fail to understand, do you want to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? Do you invite them to join you here? I don’t mean strangers on the street or your friends. What about your children? Your spouse? Why not start by offering the greatest gift possible to those you love the most?

I hope and pray that sometime in your life you feel like that. I hope and pray that you become so filled with the spirit that you just cannot keep it within you.

No matter how the people in the church fail, I will remain. No matter how much I fail, I will remain. Because I want life. Because I understand the gift. Because I understand that I will never be worthy of the gift. Because when all others fail me, when I fail, I know my lord will remain faithful to me. He has not left us orphan. His Spirit still fills the world. In him we live and move and have our being.

Where else will we go? Where else can we go?

I love to see people in procession coming up to receive communion. James Joyce wrote in Finnigan’s Wake, “Catholic means, here comes everybody!” I love to see your faces. Some are stoic, some prayerful or pious, some have eyes alive and others their eyes seem dead. Some come with heads bowed, some with eyes averted. Some seem nonchalant, confused, or bored. I don’t know how many times they come with tears in their eyes and I wonder at what pain, or joy, they are experiencing in their lives at that moment. Some look me right in the eye with a twinkle there. And every once in a while I will see a face of pure joy, and it warms my heart.

I especially like the small children who come up, clutching their parent’s hand. They look up at me and at mom or dad with a look of wonderment. What is that? It must be really good if mommy’s having some. Can I have some? And sometimes they make a grab for it.

Is that how you feel when you come up to receive communion? Like that little child? What is that? Can I have some? Is there joy in your heart, put there by the knowledge and understanding and acceptance of the gift? That kind of joy cannot be found anywhere else but here. The joy of the eucharist is the deepest sense of gratitude that will persevere throughout all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. It is the joy of Jesus, who persevered through all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. If he himself was not spared those things, why should we?

Jesus told his friends at the Last Supper, “I have so longed to celebrate this meal with you.” He so longed to offer his body and blood for their redemption. He longed to suffer and die for them. He longs to celebrate his meal with you now, just as he longed to suffer and die for you. Jesus says that no one can come to the Him unless the Father has drawn them to Him. He has called you to Him just as you are. He has called you to become one with Him in the eucharist. Today.

It is the eucharist that will save the church. It is the eucharist that will save humanity. Because it is the bread of life, Jesus Christ himself, died and risen, physically present before us, physically present within us. We become what we eat. We become Jesus himself, physically present to the world. You receive the gift and you become the gift. You receive life and you become life.

Do you recognize that? Do you understand that? Do you realize the awesome responsibility that gives you, to take that gift of life out into the world?