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.

 

Grow Up!

 

10^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

Gn 3:9-15, 2 Cor 4:13—5:1,  Mk 3:20-35

 

I saw a really adorable video this week of a three-year-old girl whose father was questioning her about why she painted her entire Barbie doll with blue nail polish. He would ask her, “Why did you paint your Barbie with nail polish?” And she kept saying, “She told me to do it, and I told her hundreds of times no.” She was crying and anguished. Every time her father patiently questioned her about what she had done she kept repeating, “I told her hundreds of times no, but she kept telling me to do it.” I think we have all experienced this with little ones. This father had a really hard time not busting up. She was so innocent and so sincere. We expect that type of thing from kids. We know they don’t know any better. We know they aren’t really responsible for their actions at that age. They’re just trying to get out of it.

 

Passing the buck is our first instinct. When asked why he ate the forbidden fruit, Adam said he was just doing what Eve told him to do. No questioning it; she gave it to him so he ate it. And he tells God, “It was the woman, who you put here, who did it.” And it really wasn’t Eve’s fault either, the serpent tricked her. Nobody takes any responsibility for what they did. The serpent was the only honest one. He knew what he was doing. He was just doing his job.

 

Today we see the entire spectrum of moral development, starting with the first Adam and ending with the second Adam, Jesus Christ. The development of our own moral lives follows a pattern. The first sin was pride. You will become like gods. Totally self-centered. So, at this end of the continuum, we have pride. Everything’s about me. At the other end we have mercy. Jesus considers everyone to be his brothers and sisters.

 

In the middle of the maturation process we move through stages of growth from self-centeredness to awareness of others and our relationships with them, to the realization that we are all interdependent with one another and are all responsible for one another. And it has nothing to do with age. There is a big difference between a 20 year old TikTok influencer who posts suggestive selfies all day and the 20 year old army Ranger scaling the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc on D-Day. There is an overlap in our personal growth curves and our spiritual growth curves when we understand our need for forgiveness. We cannot receive forgiveness just by forgiving ourselves. We need to be forgiven, by God and by those we have sinned against. We can move to forgiveness when we experience forgiveness. We can move to mercy when we feel God’s mercy towards us. The morally mature person gives and receives mercy willingly.

 

This story is the story of us all. It takes so very long, oftentimes our entire lives, to fully mature. Some people never move beyond a 3-year-old’s understanding. Where are you on the continuum today? Are you still a child, thinking everything revolves around you? Do you habitually pass the buck and make excuses? Is it all about your own self-esteem?  Do you think you need to remove all the people from your life who don’t build you up or treat you as you deserve to be treated? Or do you understand that we are all interconnected as brothers and sisters, that we all need to forgive one another and show mercy to those who hurt us the most? Is your pride your biggest stumbling block or have you reached the heights of humility? Have you widened your perspective beyond your own little world to extend to the entire world, as Jesus did? Do you see everyone you meet as a brother or sister?

 

Jesus wasn’t disrespecting his family that day. He wasn’t ignoring or avoiding them. He was asking his disciples to expand their thinking. He wanted them to grow up! Being his disciple means you have to see everyone as your family. We don’t ignore our family, we expand it. Jesus was at the pinnacle of human moral and spiritual maturity, where he truly saw the big picture.

 

Just as there are stages to our moral maturity, there are stages to our spiritual maturity as well. And again, it has nothing to do with age. St. Dominic Savio died at 14. Maria Goretti was 12. Blessed Carlos Acutis was 15. We start off having no responsibility for our faith. It is given to us by our parents and family. When we begin to experience community, usually through the Church, we see that we share faith with other people. We begin to see our responsibility not just for our own salvation but for the salvation of others, in fact, the two are inseparable. We understand that we are not saved alone but with and through our relationships with others. We understand that to be spiritually mature we need to act on our faith. Our faith is both personal and public. We are our brother’s keeper.

 

Where are you on the spirituality continuum? It’s possible to stop your spiritual growth at any stage, or even go backwards. Many, many people who were raised in the faith stop believing for a time or even forever. Faith is a gift that needs to be nurtured to grow. Is your faith more cultural than committed? Are you motivated by fear or by love? Do you fear the repercussions of your actions, or do you truly make God the center of your life because you love Him with all your heart, all your mind, and all your soul? Do you fully participate in the entire sacramental life of the Church because that is where you enter into the mystery? Do you attend Mass because of your obligation or because for you it is the source and summit of your faith? Or is it optional based upon the circumstances of the day? How big is your heart? Do you have your own personal Jesus, or do you strive to bring the joy of your faith to everyone you meet? Do you bring the grace of the Eucharist out into the world? As disciples of Christ, we are called to do more, to love more, to give more.

 

As children we are all about us. I’m hungry, feed me. I’m thirsty, give me something to drink. I’m cold, give me something to wear. I’m sick, take care of me. Jesus loves me. I am a sinner in need of forgiveness. A mature Christian life is  about serving others. We feed the hungry. We give drink to the thirsty. We clothe the naked. We visit the sick and those in prison. We love one another as He has loved us. We love our neighbor as ourselves. We love our enemies. We forgive seventy times seven. We go and make disciples of the whole world.

 

It is only when we can see ourselves as we truly are, brothers and sisters of the Lord, loved deeply by Him yet flawed and in need of forgiveness, can we move out into the world and bring God’s love to everyone. Who are my mother and my brothers and sisters? It could be everyone I meet. They are definitely those who do the will of the Father. I am one with them and they are one with me. And we are all one in the Lord. Jesus says he is my brother. God is my brother! How radical, and cool, is that?