Homily: Tuesday, 30th Week in Ordinary Time - Year A

Readings: Rom 8:18:25; Ps 126; Lk 18:18-21

About 60 years ago, when I was a freshman at Georgetown, our theology course focused on Sacred Scripture. Our professor was an ancient Jesuit, probably in his sixties, who loved to tell stories. As we studied Jesus’ parables on the Kingdom, he told this brief parable of his own.

A man entered a garden shop and was surprised to see God behind the counter.

"You can have anything you want, free of charge!" God told him.

Surprised and thrilled, the man said, "Oh, I'd really like to be wealthy!" But from the expression on God's face, he realized he might have made a mistake; and so, he added, "and, of course, the same for all my neighbors."

But God still hesitated, so the man thought: perhaps I should have asked for something more spiritual.

"I'd also like peace and blessings on me and my family."

But God still did nothing.

"Ok," he blurted, "I'd like peace in the world! And an outbreak of love; yes, an epidemic of love from one end of the world to the other!"

With this, God shook His head and said, "You've come to the wrong shop. We have only seeds here."

Yes, God is in the seed business. He loves to give us little things that He will turn into very big things.

Of course, like Jesus, the good Jesuit father was trying to show us that God’s gifts demand a suitable response from us.

His gift of faith is handed to us in countless different ways, tiny seeds that He will fertilize and water if only we accept them, take them to heart, and give them room to grow.

Brothers and sisters, the Kingdom isn’t a place; it’s really a web of relationships, God’s people working together with Him to bring His love and His justice into the world. And it’s through Jesus Christ that God’s love, God’s power, breaks through into our lives. We need only accept Him, and accept the Gospel, that tiny seed, that small measure of yeast, and the result will be beyond our imagining.

Remember those words of Jesus as He began His public ministry? 

“The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the Gospel” [Mk 1:15].

Yes, dear friends, the Reign of God is here but it needs a response from us; it needs repentance and faith. Repentance, that metanoia, the call to undergo a complete change of mind and heart, a conversion, a willingness to turn away from self and turn to God. And faith – an acceptance of this wondrous gift that overcomes all fears. Let your faith smother those fears. How did St. Paul put it to the Romans, who had real reason to fear?

“…the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us” [Rom 8:18].

And it’s through us that God reveals His mercy, and His love to the world. Just as the yeast is inserted into the flour, we too must allow God to insert us into the world. We become infiltrators, or as Paul prefers to call us, “ambassadors for Christ” [2 Cor 5:20] – ambassadors of the Kingdom – allowing God to appeal through us.

That’s our job, as Christians, to expand the Kingdom, spreading God’s Word and God’s love in the little slice of His creation He’s given to each of us.

We need only visit His little garden shop, and He’ll give away the seeds – that’s the business He’s in.

Crosses Abound

Dear Diane and I prefer to drive rather than fly whenever we travel around this beautiful country of ours. For me this is one of the major benefits of retirement, the ability to enjoy the journey as much as the destination. And because we're rarely constrained by deadlines, we often avoid the interstates and other major highways and instead travel along the nation's "blue highways," those sometimes scenic, but always interesting, back roads that connect the farms, ranches, and small towns of America, one with another. (Blue Highways, by the way, is the title of a fascinating book written a few decades ago by a man with the most unlikely name, William Least Heat-Moon. It's worth a read.)

Postcard View of Myrtle Beach

On these trips, one day's travel almost never exceeds 300 miles. This allows us to stop whenever we're surprised by a place or a sight that simply cannot be ignored. Not long ago, for example, we spent a long weekend in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, a place neither of us had ever visited. (It was actually a freebie, one of those weekends they give away if you agree to sit through an hour of a high-pressure condo sales pitch.) Our expectations bore little resemblance to the reality we encountered. I had expected a southern version of the small town on Cape Cod in which we'd lived for 25 years. What a surprise! The Myrtle Beach that accosts the tourist consists of several miles of beachfront packed with high rise condos, glitzy and not so glitzy hotels, T-shirt shops, and a seemingly infinite number of eating establishments. Within a day of our arrival we both realized that this city, devoted almost exclusively to unabashed, in-your-face tourism, was really not our cup of tea. And so instead of spending a day window shopping among the city's kitsch emporia, we decided to drive along the coast looking for that which interests us.

We spent part of the day in the lovely seaside town of Georgetown, SC, where we enjoyed a delightful lunch in a quiet waterfront restaurant. After lunch I satisfied my penchant for naval history when I wandered into a shop and bargained for and bought several exquisite models of Civil War ships. We also visited Hopsewee Plantation, toured the grounds and the antebellum home, and enjoyed tea and scones in the plantation's tearoom.

It was a marvelous day, and as we and our trusty TomTom GPS navigated the backroads of South Carolina, we encountered many public crosses. Some simply stood along the edge of a farmer's field where they'd be visible from the road. Occasionally we'd come upon a clearing and be greeted by a Good Friday memorial of three large crosses, a vivid reminder of that day of redemption long ago. These crosses definitely appear more frequently in rural America, especially in the deep South, although I've also encountered them in the far West and Mid-West.

Cross at St. Augustine -- Pro-Life rally January 2008

Interestingly, Florida boasts the two tallest of America's free-standing crosses. The tallest, at 208 feet, was erected by the Diocese of St. Augustine in 1966 and stands at the mouth of the Matanzas River in St. Augustine. On the site of the Shrine of Our Lady of La Leche, the cross memorializes the Christian roots of our nation, when St. Augustine was settled by the Spanish in 1565. The cross is pictured above. It's really quite spectacular.

The second tallest cross isn't far from our home here in Florida. Towering over its Orlando neighborhood at 199 feet, this cross was erected a few years ago alongside a major highway by Orlando's First Baptist Church. It, too, is quite impressive.

Orlando Cross

Standing on church property, these two crosses are, at least for now, protected from the legal attacks of the ACLU and others who might find them offensive. But like the Mohave cross I discussed briefly in yesterday's post, another cross in California (photo below) might well be forced down. The Mt. Soledad Cross in La Jolla, located at the Veterans Memorial atop the mountain, has been in place since 1913. (It was rebuilt twice since then.) Because it stands on government property, it too became the subject of a contentious lawsuit that began in 1989 and still remains unresolved. Last year the U. S. Supreme Court took the cowardly, politically correct approach and refused to hear the case, tossing it back into the lap of the 9th Circuit Court, and we all know what to expect from the radical members of that august body. I hope, somehow, the cross is preserved. Back in my days as a Navy helicopter pilot, I often flew by Mt. Soledad and enjoyed the reassuring sight of that cross silhouetted against the clear, blue California sky. I'd hate to think it was no longer there.

Mt. Soledad Cross, La Jolla, California

Have you ever heard of Khachkars? No? Well, I'll tell you about them and the threat to their existence in tomorrow's post.

Pax et bonum...