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Exploring the word

16 Aug 2015 - Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Recently I heard a story about an area suffering from a terrible drought. The arid seasons had stretched into years, and the local pastor finally decided to gather the whole community together outside for a special prayer vigil to intercede for rain. The need was so great, people turned out in droves for the service. But only one person, a small boy, brought an umbrella. What does it mean that we might all lift our intercessions to heaven for rain, but neglect to bring an umbrella? Are we so sure that prayer is a nice (but essentially ineffective) way to get God’s attention? Is it our faith in God, in prayer, or in ourselves that’s the weakest link in the chain of our worship? Perhaps the problem is that we don’t think much at all about what we’re doing in church. It’s not that we lack faith, but that we’re curiously uninvested in what we’re doing. The words, symbols, gestures, and activities of religion have become dulled in us from so much repetition and so little personal contribution. So we keep showing up. But no umbrella. No expectation. No sense that anything much is going to come of this. Come to my fabulous dinner party! Wisdom calls from the heights of the city. Taste and see that the Lord is good! the Psalmist sings. Be filled with the Spirit! Paul urges the Ephesians. And Jesus proclaims that his flesh is true food, his blood true drink! Most of the folks who hear these marvelous calls go out, yawn and decline the invitation. Why is that? Wisdom’s party, of course, competes with the foolishness that keeps much of the world stuck in a narrow groove, unable to advance in the way of understanding. Foolishness is so easy! It takes no personal investment at all to presume we have no place to go and no place to grow. We’re good right here, thanks. The Psalmist calls us to taste God’s goodness, but the evil of the world is a cookie jar hard to keep our hands out of. And Paul may peddle the Spirit, but he admits the world is an aphrodisiac that makes our spirits complacent and disengaged. Meanwhile Jesus reveals himself as the source of eternal life—but the crowds have already left the challenging dialogue with him in favor of muttering among themselves, fixated on the small points that small minds love to argue ad infinitum. Yet Jesus does not withdraw the magnificent offer of himself. It’s still on the table—this Table—every time we gather. And it’s here whether we accept or decline, whether we expect anything or nothing will come of this. Expect more. Expect the moon! Expect the Lord. Related scripture links The disloyal friends of Jesus: Matt. 26; Mark 14; Luke 22; John 18 Jesus sticks with Peter: Matt. 17-20, 21-23; Luke 22:31-34; John 21:15-19

Authors Alice Camille

Expectation Participation

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The inner word

14 Dec 2014 - Third Sunday of Advent, Cycle B

This is a season of expectation—and of expectations. We hear how John the Baptist had to set the record straight on who he wasn’t: no, not the Messiah; sorry, not Elijah either. What kinds of unrealistic expectations do others have of your pastoral role that you may have had to knock down? And what kinds of unrealistic expectations do you hold yourself to? Perhaps this is the week to clarify expectations, especially as the liturgical season hits its peak.

expectations

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Homily stories

21 Aug 2011 - Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

At a new job I took on years ago, everyone I met in my first days mentioned how the general manager of the organization was a genius. They spoke of him in awed tones. And so when I met him, I was disappointed. I expected him to perform great feats of intelligence and management mastery right before my eyes. Instead he was quiet, unassuming, and down to earth. Mostly what he did was listen. In the few meetings I attended with him at that time I came away annoyed that I wasn't seeing in this man what I thought everyone else was seeing. After all the build-up, I had expectations of who he ought to be and how he ought to act, and he wasn't meeting those expectations. And so, for a long time I missed seeing what later came to be quite obvious--his own brand of quiet genius. He was not one to make a big splash. His gift was being able to see the essence of things and to keep our organization focused on what mattered most. Expecting one thing, I almost missed what I had. So when I hear Jesus advise the apostles to tell no one he was the Christ, I can finally understand his point. Perhaps what he's saying is, "Let them discover this truth fresh for themselves." After all, if they start with wrong expectations of who Jesus ought to be, they might just miss the opportunity to encounter the Living Christ.

Authors Tom McGrath

expectations living christ genius

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Who's listening?

10 Jan 2010 - Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, Cycle C

The people were filled with expectation”—and so are many of the people who file into church this weekend and every weekend. In the hearts of many, each Sunday is not just another Sunday; they come as if it’s the first Sunday. Their hearts and minds are open to God, scripture, the sacramental celebration, one another. Even if past Sundays have disappointed them—even angered them or drove them to despair—they keep coming back, hoping for some real spiritual nourishment. On the Baptism of the Lord, let not only your homily and presiding but the efforts of your whole liturgical team—greeters, lectors, musicians, acolytes, eucharistic ministers—make people glad for the baptism they cannot remember but that lives on in their expectation of heaven opening and the Spirit of God descending to renew the face of the earth

Expectation sunday spirit nourishment

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Exploring the word

29 Nov 2009 - First Sunday of Advent, Cycle C

My grandfather from Austria used to play a little game with us when we were small. He'd walk his fingers up our arms like a spider, repeating a soft chant in his native language: El camina, el camina . . . which means "coming, coming" but doesn't say precisely what's coming. We'd squirm and giggle and try to escape the invisible fate creeping in our direction. When we sit in darkened theaters to watch suspense films, we know "something wicked this way comes," as Macbeth's witch once noted. We expect it and, heck, we've paid for it. In real life, though, we prefer to stave off the arrival of unforeseen and uncontrollable events. Some surprises may be sweet, and wrapped boxes may hold hidden treasures awaiting discovery. But too many times we've had the opposite experience. Unseen forces may await us like mine fields in the course of our lives, disrupting our plans: sickness, loss, unemployment, financial reversals, natural disasters, criminal acts. We may face rejection or betrayal from an unsuspected source. Something is always "coming, coming" in the shadowy background of our days, but often we can't read the handwriting on the wall to know what it is. We don't know if we should prepare to receive this strange arrival or seek to prevent it! We begin the new church year in the spirit of expectation: We don't call this season Advent for nothing. Something is "coming, coming," and we're asked to prepare for its arrival. Is it a good surprise or a bad one? Is it something we've been longing for, or something that's going to ruin everything? If we had to decipher this arrival from today's readings, we might say it could go either way. Jeremiah insists wonderful days are on the way, an era of justice and security. Jesus warns that nations will be in anguish, the heavens will shake, and people will die of fright. Are we supposed to take our pick? Do we get a choice which way things will go? Yes we do! Yes we do. If we are people of justice and right, then the time that is coming will be the best season of all. It will be the answer to prayers, the day of salvation, the arrival of the posse to deliver us from every evil right on schedule! But if you and I benefit from systems of injustice and oppression, if we stand on the backs of other people and enjoy good things at their expense, then we should be afraid, very afraid. Because a day is coming that will spring captives into liberation. And the same day will close like a trap on those who oppress. The Advent we get is the one we choose. Related scripture links Imminent parousia: Rev. 22:20 The unusual end of Enoch, Elijah, and maybe John: Gen. 5:24; 2 Kings 2:11; John 21:21-22 The traditional salary for sin: Rom. 6:23 Lo, to the end of time: Matt. 28:20 Catechism links Advent: CCC 522-524 Waiting in joyful hope: CCC 668-672; 1024-1029; 2612

Authors Alice Camille

anticipation waiting Expectation

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Homily stories

01 Mar 2009 - First Sunday of Lent, Cycle B

My newest hero is my neighbor across the hall: a public high-school teacher thought of as funny, sensitive, but not all that deep. Brian was on the verge of getting engaged to a beautiful woman, a social worker with a genuine concern for the people she helped. But when they began talking about marriage and children, she was clear about her expectations. He would, of course, have to pursue a different career because they could never raise a family on a teacher’s salary. “How ‘bout law school?” she threw out as a possibility. Brian was taken aback, but he too was very clear: He wanted to be a high school teacher. It was his dream job, his “vocation,” to use his words. He watched his dad die early in a high-powered job that kept his family at a distance, and he didn’t want that for his kids. He also wanted to be there to help other kids. Wow, who knew? We all read him wrong, including his girlfriend. Since she couldn’t get past the money, the relationship ended. But for me, it was the beginning of an even more beautiful friendship. Here was a friend who could teach me about resisting temptation and staying on course—just like Jesus.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

teacher engage expectations Vocation friendship Temptation

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The inner word

28 Dec 2008 - Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Cycle B

I once heard a family therapist say, “It is important for every family to get its saints out of heaven and its sinners out of hell.” The point is that it doesn’t pay to either idealize or demonize our families (or fellow family members). Often our perceptions of family go unexamined and yet exert powerful influences on our world view—including our view of faith and community. Stop a minute to reflect on the following questions: Abraham trusted God’s promise of boundless heirs, even despite the evidence to the contrary. Do I trust God that my life and my work will prove fruitful? The heart of what makes a family are bonds of love and respect. What are my feelings about family? Who would I consider to be the key members of my “family” in my day-to-day life? Do the patterns of my biological family continue on to affect today’s relationships? The gospel tells of wonderful predictions offered by Simeon and Anna. How do early expectations of family members affect me today? It must have been puzzling for Joseph and Mary to live with the knowledge that the “favor of God” was upon their only son. How do we live with those around us, working together day by day and yet knowing that they are called to be saints (even as we are)?

family expectations disappointment

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28 Dec 2008 - Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Cycle B

There’s an old joke about the Irish mother who gets a stern look from her old pastor as she’s traipsing into Mass late, followed by her brood of eight children. During the sermon (this was pre-“homily”), the pastor extols the virtues of the Holy Family. On the way out, the beleaguered mother looks up at the statue of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and says, “Hmph! Sure, ’twould be easy with just one!” The point is that it doesn’t pay to hold up an idealized version of life in Nazareth and ask people to compare themselves to that. In most churches on Sunday, you will have almost as many versions of family as people present. Singles, divorced, widowed, vowed, infertile couples, blended families, estranged families for whom it is not wise nor safe to reconcile, and amalgamations of friends who have found each other and think of one another as family. There is no perfect family, only people who long to be welcomed, to be known, and to belong. It is self-giving, generative love that makes us whole (complete, perfect, holy). And that is a message we all long to hear.

family expectations disappointment Belonging Community

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Homily stories

28 Dec 2008 - Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Cycle B

Homesickness is a powerful disease for which there is no cure but going home. We may miss our own room or bed. Maybe we need the routine that we have grown accustomed to over the years. It could even be the food or the exact time of day we are used to eating. It includes a familiarity with just about everything around you that has suddenly become just a memory rather than a reality. But, most of all, homesickness is caused by the way we so intensely miss our family, even if we don’t necessarily want to admit it. After all, it may surprise us that we miss that little brother or sister we always considered a pain in the neck and who was always bugging us. It might be that we are starting to understand that Mom and Dad, despite their not fully understanding us, still love us in a way that leaves us empty being away from it. Maybe back home our parents and siblings are feeling the same about us. Mary is told clearly that her heart will be broken by Jesus’ fate. Sometimes the greater the love, the greater the pain. Last week when church was full, we felt the joy of being part of God’s family celebrating Christmas together. Now our family, no matter how perfect we try to make it, as Paul points out, begins to break apart. Church is not so full, and we are saddened. It can’t be Christmas every day. But we can embrace each other as the family of faith, whatever opportunities we have.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

home homesick family Suffering perfection expectations

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05 May 2019 - Third Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

When I was a kid there was a narrow, shallow, stagnant pond that ran for half a mile or so between two sets of railroad tracks near my home. In the summer we would spend hours at a time there trying to catch crayfish. How they got there, I’ll never know. They must have descended from crustaceans that populated the pond long before the railroads came through. Our fishing methods weren’t sophisticated: We’d tie a hunk of baloney on the end of a string and drop it alluringly in front of a large rock, old discarded gas can, or thick stand of weeds. Eventually the baloney would lure a hidden crayfish out into the open and its large claw would close on the meat in a vicelike grip. We could then yank our prize out of the water and into a waiting bucket. We’d watch it crawl around and around the bucket for a while and then release it. Chasing crayfish taught us the habit of simply observing nature. It taught us to pay attention, to see what was there and what more might be there. There’s always more under the surface than first meets the eye. That was Jesus’ lesson to the apostles this week, when he invited them to cast their nets one more time after a disappointing night of fishing. They followed Jesus’ lead and hauled in an abundant harvest. Watch with great expectation, and your life will know abundance.

Authors Tom McGrath

fishing expectations

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