Bet Your Life on It

24^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

 

Why did Jesus ask his disciples this question? It’s pretty important since it appears in all three synoptic gospels, and so we hear it every year at Mass. I can imagine the situation. This scene takes place early on in Mark’s gospel, and Jesus and his disciples have been traveling around the local towns spreading the message to repent and accept the gospel. He has been healing the sick and performing miracles, and now they have stopped to rest a bit. He asks them who the people say that he is. Sort of, “It’s been a little while. Is my message getting across? How effective am I being?” The first Christian focus group.

 

And the people really don’t get the message yet. They think he’s one of the dead prophets like John the Baptist or Jeremiah. Others are a bit closer when they claim he is Elijiah, the prophet what was supposed to come just before the Messiah. But none of them hit the mark and realize that he is the messiah himself. It’s easier to see the human Jesus at first than the divine.

 

It was important for the people to understand so they could believe. Jesus wanted them to get it right. Jesus spent his entire life trying to get them to believe. And then he left his disciples, the Church, to continue to proclaim who he is to the world. The first pope made the first ever dogmatic statement that day. He proclaimed to the world for the first time that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ, the promised Messiah, the Son of God. And he proclaimed it first to the church, those 12 gathered around Jesus. And that same Peter later on went on to say that there is no other name by which we are saved. That is the core message of Christianity. That is the good news. And it is vital that the Church always understand, get it right, and then spread the gospel faithfully. If we don’t get it right there is no hope for the world.

 

Who does the world think Jesus is even today, after 2000 years? A great philosopher and teacher, just like so many? A guru? Maybe a prophet, like the Muslims think, but not the prophet. A myth or an ideal to strive for? I figure we have moved beyond in our modern sensibilities? That it doesn’t really matter what anyone believes because there is no one truth, no one best way to live your life. It doesn’t matter what God you believe in or if you even believe in a god at all. If that’s the case then Jesus is easy to follow or ignore.  That Jesus requires nothing of us. And therefore is worthless.

 

What the world thinks starts with what you think. It’s important that you get it right. The people are always going to get it wrong because the truth is so fantastic and unique it’s hard to wrap our heads around it and even harder to accept what we will be called to do with that truth. CS Lewis said it so clearly in Mere Christianity. Either Jesus was crazy, he was a liar, or he is who he says he is. There are no other options. If he is one of the first two then no one should follow him…but if he is who he says he is then everyone must follow him. It’s important that you believe that if you are to live your life as you were intended to. I won’t lay down my life for a crazy person or a liar, but I will for the promise of eternal life. I have to.

 

Do you know who Jonathan Roumie is? He’s the actor who portrays Jesus in the series, The Chosen. Jonathan spoke at the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis in July, and he wore a bit of a controversial t-shirt during his talk that had the famous quote from Flannery O’Connor, “If it’s a just symbol, to heck with it.” O’Connor was a bit more colorful in her language and she was often sarcastic and flippant, but the message was clear. If the Eucharist is just a symbol, then it’s worthless and not worth my time, let alone my devotion and dedication. But what if it’s what Jesus claims it is?

 

I think the same could be said of Jesus. If he’s not who he says he is, then to heck with it. If he’s just all those things the world thinks he is then why should I bother? If He is not unique then why be Christian? If Christianity is not unique, if it is not the fullest expression of truth then why is it worth my effort? Why do I do all this stuff? Why do all those good works St. James talks about today? If all religions are the same, then what will I need to give my life for? I can just choose my religion to fit my life view, or my values, or my politics, or whatever I feel like doing today. Or choose no religion at all. There is nothing to live for or sacrifice for outside ourselves. And there are no consequences to my actions no matter how I choose to live. But then there is also no meaning and purpose, and there is therefore no hope.

 

No other religion has the cross, and the cross is the means of our salvation. No Jesus, no cross, no salvation, no hope.  

 

Who does Jesus claim to be? He never comes right out and explicitly says he is God. He uses euphemisms like the Son of Man and the Son of God, but never really defines what that means. He says things like, the Father and I am one. When you see me, you see the Father.  I am the way, the truth and the life. Not a way, a truth, and a life. No one comes to the Father except through me. And he leaves the door open for faith to fill in the gaps for us. It took the Church over 300 years to put some words around who this person Jesus was and is. It takes our entire lives for we ourselves to define and accept who he is for us. For it is around that question that our entire understanding of God, of His Church, and our very selves revolves.

 

But that question is the most important one we will ever answer. It is the only one that really matters, and it is the only one worth giving our lives for. Who we believe Jesus to be is the center of everything, even the eucharist. If Jesus isn’t who he says he is then the eucharist and all the sacraments are just empty rituals, meant to either make us feel good or even worse to deceive us.

 

This person Jesus who we believe to be God left us with some promises. Our hope is the belief in the fulfillment of those promises. He promises that the world will hate us just as it hates Him. He promises that the road to salvation is narrow. He promises that He will not leave us orphans. Jesus promises that he has gone to prepare a place for us so that where is he we also can be. He promises that his yoke is easy and burden light. He promises that if we proclaim him to the world, he will proclaim us to his Father. He promises that he will forgive us our sins to the degree we forgive others. He promises that we are his disciples when we follow his commandments. He says that we are one with the father when we are one with him. He promises that he is trustworthy and will remain so even if everyone else leaves us. He calls us his friends.

 

I don’t know about you, but I need to trust in those promises. I need to have that hope. I need to know that what I believe is true and good and of God. I need to trust that he is who he says he is. I need to believe in the truth of the Church as being Jesus present here on earth. I need to know that it is worth it. I need to know that it is worth dying for. I need to know that it is worth living for.

 

Who is Jesus to you?

 

What does that mean for you? What does that mean for your family, your community, your nation, for the world?

 

Do you trust him?

 

Do you trust his promises?

 

Are you willing to bet your life on it?

 

 

  

The Joy of Hunger

 

21^st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

I am diabetic. To help control it I take one of those medications that has the happy side effect of causing me to lose weight. It does that by suppressing my appetite, and so I eat less. Makes sense. You thought I’ve been working out. Nah. It took a couple of months but one day I just realized that I was no longer hungry. I don’t think about food much. In fact, I even keep forgetting to eat. I can get by on one meal a day now and never miss it. I eat because I have to but really don’t enjoy it much anymore. The law of unintended consequences.

 

It’s easy to lose weight when you’re not hungry. That’s why these drugs are so popular for non-diabetics to use to lose weight. They remove the pain and the discipline that is usually required. I also depend too much on the drugs to control my disease. I don’t watch what I eat or exercise as much as I should. It doesn’t require me to really do much to get the benefit. My numbers are good right now, but what happens if I go off the meds?

 

So, one of the side effects of the drug that is helping control my disease is a good one – maintaining a healthy weight. However, recent studies have also shown another unexpected side effect in some users. They not only are not hungry but have seemed to have diminished joy in life. Not just joy in eating, that would seem logical, but joy in other areas of their lives as well. When you are hungry all you can think about is food, and therefore you enjoy eating even more. When you’re not hungry even the joy of eating goes away. And as the deliciousness of food is diminished, one of the great joys of life also seems to be slipping away.  

 

It's a two-edged sword. Removing the pain and discipline can also remove the joy.

 

Hunger. We see it as something to avoid. We want to eliminate world hunger. We want to save people from suffering and dying. But hunger is also a good thing, because it causes anticipation for something good. The absence of something makes us want it more. Hunger for food makes the eating even more satisfying. Remove the hunger remove the satisfaction.

 

Today we hear the culmination of the great bread of life discourse in John. The crowds were first miraculously filled with bread and fish. Their physical hunger was satisfied for a time. But their fullness wore off, and so followed Jesus across the lake to see if he would perform the miracle again. Jesus upraided them and challenged them to see beyond mere bread to himself, the bread of life that has come down from heaven. Their hunger was superficial, but Jesus knew their spiritual hunger, and yet when He promised satisfaction they couldn’t understand it. They couldn’t get past his claims. How can someone come down from heaven? How can someone be bread? Who does he think he is? And this thing about eating his flesh and drinking his blood is really over the top. This saying is hard. Who can accept it? And that’s understandable if they just took it at face value, if they only saw physical bread and an ordinary man. And so they returned to their former way of life.

 

They left not because they weren’t hungry anymore but because they didn’t understand what they truly hungered for. They had eaten the bread and fish but had not felt the deep satisfaction of the bread of life. And they didn’t believe yet that Jesus was who he said he was, and that by entering into relationship with him they would gain eternal life. They saw him as a prophet and miracle worker. They could not accept the idea that he was the Son of God. This saying is hard. Who can accept it?

 

The apostles had a different experience and understanding of Jesus. They saw him as so much more than a great prophet. Peter said it so well. Where else can we go? We’re still hungry. Not just for physical nourishment but for the words of everlasting life. For eternal life itself. They did want that deep personal relationship with Jesus, because for three years he had been the center of their lives, literally, and they had come to believe that he is the Son of God.

 

This whole episode is such an analogy for Christianity for so many people today. We’re all hungry and want to be fed. Like the crowd, we expect one thing from Jesus and get something else, an offer so personal and deep that we’re afraid of it and reject it. We go looking to be fed physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and instead he asks us for a relationship. We are attracted to the superficial – we see the bread – and he just wants us to see who he really is. And that call always comes with a cost. We must change. We must submit. And that’s frightening.

 

We like things simple and uncomplicated. We see the superficial hunger but not the spiritual hunger inside us. Just feed my physical and emotional needs, Lord, and that’s enough. Give me a good job and a nice house. Give me a happy family and no anxiety. If you do that I will stay, if not, I will leave. Give me good liturgy with uplifting music and decent preaching, and I’ll come to Mass. But don’t ask me for anything more. Don’t ask me to enter into a deeper relationship with you, because I may not like what I see there. I may have to give up control. Give me the temporary satisfaction but not the suffering. It’s one thing to eat a bit of bread but don’t ask me to drink from the cup that you drank from. We say we become what we eat, but do I really want to become like you? Do I really want to do what it takes to make you the center of my life? Am I ready to embrace it all?

 

We are like the crowds who wanted Jesus to feed them again without their having to do anything themselves. It's a two-edged sword. Removing the pain and discipline can also remove the joy. Give me the drug and I will lose the weight, but I also risk losing the joy of anticipation and the experience of eating.

 

Have we lost our hunger for God? Maybe we have been so disappointed that Jesus is not what we expect that we have lost our appetite for him. Or maybe it’s just become so routine. I eat because I have to but really don’t enjoy it much. But I think we all have experienced the joy of that hunger at some time our lives, and so I think we can always rekindle it in our hearts. It starts with anticipating the gift of the Eucharist.

 

Remember when you were preparing for your first communion? Whether it was as a child or an adult, there was great anticipation, wasn’t there? For our catechumens their first communion is the sign that they are finally fully Catholic after such a long period of preparation. The littles are so happy not because they understand fully what they are receiving but finally they can have what their parents and older siblings and friends have had. It is a sign of growing up. They’re no longer left out. And they all have such a glow about them when they first take the host and the cup. You can feel the joy in their hearts. You can see it in their eyes. Think about how you felt that day. Now think about how you felt the last time you received the Eucharist. Has anything changed? Have you lost that initial joy? How can we regain that joy and that feeling? How can we feel hungry again?

 

Did you joyfully anticipate coming to Mass today? Do you yearn for the bread of life? How have you prepared yourself? What is in your heart as you process down the aisle for communion? Is your Amen a true declaration that “I believe, Lord, that you have the words of everlasting life? I will not leave you!”

 

Imitate the apostles, not the crowd. For them Jesus was the center of their lives, even if they didn’t fully understand who he was. They hungered for his words and struggled to live as he had commanded them. They entered into his passion and death literally, and after they experienced his resurrection the first thing they did was celebrate all of it in the Eucharist.

 

So don’t give up hope if you’re not hungry. Keep eating. Keep believing. Keep receiving. And if you do feel the joy of hunger, pass it on. Let others see the light in your eyes and feel the life within you. Keep remembering how beautiful it is.

 

Grand Events

 

17^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2 Kgs 4:42-44

Eph 4:1-6

Jn 6:1-15

 

I’m sure most, if not all of you here are aware of what’s been happening across the country with the three-year-long National Eucharistic Revival that began in 2022. It is a grassroots movement called by the US bishops to rekindle a living faith in the hearts of all Catholics across America to unleash a new missionary chapter in this pivotal moment in Church history.

 

As part of that movement, last year all dioceses hosted a local Eucharistic Rally. Last summer here in Salt Lake City 10,000 Catholics gathered together at the Mountain America Center for a full day of events and one huge Mass. So many St. Mary’s parishioners volunteered to make it a success and many more participated in the Mass. It was truly a wonderful event and experience and touched so many people in this parish and in the diocese that we are still talking about it a year later. One man I spoke with who attended told me that it has inspired him to return to regular Mass attendance.

 

This year starting in May there was a pilgrimage that processed with the Blessed Sacrament from the four corners of the country converging last week at the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis. We were blessed here at St. Mary’s that the pilgrimage went right through town and hundreds of us participated. We even celebrated a special Mass here with the pilgrims, Bishop Solis and Bishop Gordon from Las Vegas. It was so cool to see the video and pictures of our parish eucharistic procession from the Old Town Chapel to this church posted on social media and news channels nationwide.

 

The pilgrimage culminated at the Eucharistic Congress last week in Indianapolis, the first Congress in the US in 83 years. According to a statement by the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, “The 10th National Eucharistic Congress was a profound moment for the whole Church in the United States as our Catholic family united in prayer. 60,000 Catholics gathered in Indianapolis for this generational event, and countless more across the nation joined via livestream. This was a pivotal moment in both American history and the legacy of the Catholic Church. After a historic National Eucharistic Pilgrimage, tens of thousands of pilgrims welcomed Jesus to Indianapolis. United in spirit with our brothers and sisters across the nation, we worshiped Jesus as the Body of Christ and sought repentance in joy and hope.”

 

It’s a big deal. A bigger deal than we’ve had in a long time. I’ve actually heard people comment that things like this are obsolete and old fashioned. Someone called them simply medieval. Why do we have to make such a show about something we can do ourselves privately or in our parishes? They’re so over the top. But there’s something different about coming together in large numbers to share our faith and worship. If where two or more are gathered in my name, there I am among them, then what outpouring of the Spirit they will be with tens of thousands?  Just as it is different to watch a football game in person versus on TV, the enthusiasm factor and sense of belonging and community are so much higher. Large events such as these create great enthusiasm, they revitalize the faithful and re-focus us on our faith. They also help us to spread the gospel throughout our communities and the world.

 

There were many processions where I grew up in Massachusetts, both eucharistic and for feast days. You would just see a bunch of folks following behind the priest carrying the monstrance down the street to the church. Since I was in Catholic school, I had to join in. I always thought they were pretty hokey, and somewhat embarrassing, because it was a Catholic thing, and my non-Catholic friends could see me marching down the street. I was a Holy Joe. And I was too young and too self-absorbed to realize that that’s the idea. It is to make our faith visible to the world. The processions are for the pilgrims, yes, but they are more for the spectators. They are for the non-believers. They are for the world to see our devotion so that some will find that attractive and want a part of it. They are a way for us to witness to the world who we are, what we believe in, and to claim part of our Catholic identity again. Large public displays of devotion are missionary events, and we are a missionary Church. The entire world saw our faith on display last week.

 

Most of Jesus’ teaching, healing and preaching happened with individuals or smaller groups. But sometimes they were grand events, like the feeding of the multitudes. The story of the feeding of the 5000 is the only miracle that is recorded in all four gospels. Matthew and Mark also tell of feeding another 4000 at one time. These miracles are a foreshadowing of the Eucharist. Jesus takes, blesses, breaks and distributes. But I think the most important thing about them is the leftovers.

 

What do you think they did with the 12 baskets of leftovers? They gave them to the people to take home with them. The people were enthusiastic that day. They had just witnessed something extraordinary, and they were eager to spread the news. They didn’t just take bread and fish home with them, they took the story. They evangelized to their family and friends about the man from Nazareth. Those same people who Jesus fed that day followed him to Galilee, and they are the ones who he gave the bread of life discourses to. Once fed a little, they wanted more. They were touched by Jesus, and they wanted to make him their king.

 

Those 60,000 Congress participants and the thousands more who experienced the eucharistic pilgrimage were fed, and now want more. They are enthusiastic. They have witnessed something extraordinary, and they are eager to spread the news. And they will follow Jesus wherever he goes to get more. They have brought the fragments of their experience back home with them to their parishes, homes, families and friends. The gift with which they have been fed has reinvigorated them and recommitted them to their faith. I have read the testimonies of people who were interviewed about their experiences. So many of them had been on the peripheries, not zealots as you might expect, but ordinary people who have a simple faith, oftentimes a wavering faith in the face of so much secular opposition, and something has come alive in them.

 

Wow, this isn’t just me. This is a movement. I am not alone. We really can revive the church.

 

The leftovers are here, in this parish. Just as 60,000 people knelt on the floor of that stadium last week in silent adoration of the blessed sacrament, so can we here. Just as 60,000 people received the body and blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ together in that stadium every day, so do we in our little parish, at our Sunday gatherings or even with a handful of friends at daily Mass. The size and scope of the gathering does not affect the reality of the sacrament, nor its efficacy. It’s the same Jesus feeding us. The loaves are still being multiplied. We still take the fragments of the grace we receive home with us to give to our family, friends and community.

 

Will that enthusiasm fade over time? Probably. But you know, we can always have another procession. We always have eucharistic adoration in our parishes. We still have daily and Sunday Mass. We still gather as pilgrims throughout the world, in large and small congregations, to be fed by our king. A flame has been kindled, the same light of Christ that was lit in you at your baptism. It’s up to us to keep that flame burning brightly and to feed it until it grows to a roaring conflagration.