18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Have any of us ever considered the questions the people ask of Moses and Aaron in Exodus, our first reading, and of Jesus in John’s Gospel from which we hear today?
When God gives the people in the desert in Exodus a strange dew-like substance to eat, they ask “What is this?” When the crowds find Jesus in Capernaum after the multiplication of the loaves and fish, they ask, as if surprised that Jesus has arrived there before them, “Rabbi, when did you get here”? Jesus invites the people who were fed by the loaves and fish to work not “for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life.” The people wonder what Jesus might mean by this; what kind of work Jesus might expect of them.
What exactly is this “food that endures for eternal life”? The people ask, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Jesus’ answer to them is simple: Believe in him; “believe in the one [God] has sent.” But do the people despair of ever meeting the demands of faith they feel Jesus is placing on them? How could they ever match the miracle they had just witnessed of the multiplication of the loaves and fish? And so the people ask Jesus another question, to deflect the spotlight away from the weakness of their faith and back onto Jesus. They ask no longer “what can we do” but “what sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do”?
But before we criticize the people in Exodus for not being more grateful to God for feeding them with manna, or before we fault those who follow Jesus for seeking another sign; for their weak faith, might we try to empathize with their experience? Where does their experience; where do their questions resonate with ours as people of faith?
“What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”? In one sense, we know the answers to these questions. “What is this”? Here in our Eucharistic celebration we are not given to eat and drink strange food that we have never seen before, as the people were when God gave them manna in the desert. We clearly see, touch, and taste bread and wine that are brought to the altar by our community of faith to become the Body and Blood of Christ. And so there is no question for us of, “What is this”?
“Rabbi, when did you get here”? Again, we know the answer to this question: Jesus Christ is and will forever be here with us. Jesus is really and truly present in our Eucharist, and also in each and every one of us; in our relationships; in our works of love and kindness; justice and peace; in our care for all of creation. Jesus is present in making holy; consecrating not only bread and wine here before us but all of us gathered here. Jesus is present in making our entire Church more and more, in the words of our Eucharistic Prayer, “one Body, one Spirit in Christ.” And so there is no question of, “Rabbi, when did you get here”? Christ is here, with and in us, now and forever.
Yet how many of us experience times in which we ask: “Where is God in this”? These experiences may be personal illness in mind, body, or spirit, or the illness or death of a loved one. Many of us, in our wider communities and some right here in our parish, experience poverty; hunger; unemployment or underemployment. How many of us find it difficult to pray from time to time, as if God is at a distance; not readily answering our prayers? How many of us have perhaps had a bad experience with somebody in our Church; somebody in leadership in our Church? Perhaps the onslaught of tragedy; of violence; of war; of injustice in our daily news is enough to lead us to ask, “Where is God in this”?
And if we are asking where God is in our lives; in our world, then are we not asking a question very similar to the question the people of Israel asked in the Egyptian desert, or the question the crowds asked Jesus: “What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”?
These questions can then lead us to ask a question like what the crowds ask Jesus next in John’s Gospel: “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Like the crowds in Jesus’ time, we may not know where to start “to accomplish the works of God.” For those among us who have suffered, who have even experienced despair, can suffering; despair; even the weight of evil in our world not make us seem powerless? Jesus’ answer to what we can “do to accomplish the works of God,” “believe in the one whom [God] has sent,” may seem unhelpful to us in these situations.
“What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? To show in words and especially actions that we “believe in” Jesus, “the one whom [God] has sent,” is at the core of our faith. Jesus calls us all to believe in him and to show our belief in him by the way we live. But how do we do this if we genuinely have little materially or spiritually to offer? What if we have the resources but are unsure who is most in need; where or to whom best to direct them?
It is not in and of itself wrong for us to ask the next question the crowds ask Jesus: “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do”? But today Jesus returns our question with a question, whether we are rich or poor; whether our faith is strong or weak: Not what can I do, but what can you do with what God has given you?
What can we do? How has God gifted all of us “to accomplish the works of God? We may not have received much in order “to accomplish the works of God.” But if we are baptized into Christ; if we have received Christ in our Eucharist, we are all called “to accomplish the works of God.”
Within the last week I have witnessed many examples from this very faith community of accomplishing “the works of God.” We Basilians and many beyond our order continue to grieve the sudden loss of our brother Fr. Joe Lanzalaco, a man who authentically accomplished “the works of God” in this life. Fr. Joe brought people; Christian community together by his presence; his cheerfulness; his depth of faith. Many of us, from Bishops Matano and Clark to the homeless of House of Mercy, who could offer almost nothing but their presence, joined together to worship; to remember Fr. Joe at his funeral. Many more of us offered ministry during the funeral Mass; food and drink before and after… If nothing else, many more offered words of consolation; offered prayer. On behalf of my brother Basilians I thank you. And I pray for you. Like Fr. Joe, you are accomplishing “the works of God” to which Jesus calls us.
How else can we “accomplish the works of God”? Mother Teresa of Calcutta once said, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” And the French philosopher Gabriel Marcel said, “To love another is to say, ‘you, too, shall live.’” To love another is to will that this person have eternal life. And so I ask us to look around here for a moment. Whether the first person you see is a family member; a friend; a complete stranger, are we able to offer this prayer for this person: “Lord, I will that this person shall live; may this person have eternal life”?
If we can offer this prayer for another, we show in a small but significant way our love for one another: “You, too, shall live.” We worship here; celebrate Eucharist together as a community of faith. “What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”? “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Our “Rabbi,” Jesus Christ, has always been here in our worship; our words and works of love; kindness; peace; justice; our support of those in particular need. This is our willing one another toward eternal life; toward inheriting “the food that endures for eternal life.” This is the visible and active sign we offer our world that we “believe in” Jesus Christ, “the one [God] has sent.”
When God gives the people in the desert in Exodus a strange dew-like substance to eat, they ask “What is this?” When the crowds find Jesus in Capernaum after the multiplication of the loaves and fish, they ask, as if surprised that Jesus has arrived there before them, “Rabbi, when did you get here”? Jesus invites the people who were fed by the loaves and fish to work not “for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life.” The people wonder what Jesus might mean by this; what kind of work Jesus might expect of them.
What exactly is this “food that endures for eternal life”? The people ask, “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Jesus’ answer to them is simple: Believe in him; “believe in the one [God] has sent.” But do the people despair of ever meeting the demands of faith they feel Jesus is placing on them? How could they ever match the miracle they had just witnessed of the multiplication of the loaves and fish? And so the people ask Jesus another question, to deflect the spotlight away from the weakness of their faith and back onto Jesus. They ask no longer “what can we do” but “what sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do”?
But before we criticize the people in Exodus for not being more grateful to God for feeding them with manna, or before we fault those who follow Jesus for seeking another sign; for their weak faith, might we try to empathize with their experience? Where does their experience; where do their questions resonate with ours as people of faith?
“What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”? In one sense, we know the answers to these questions. “What is this”? Here in our Eucharistic celebration we are not given to eat and drink strange food that we have never seen before, as the people were when God gave them manna in the desert. We clearly see, touch, and taste bread and wine that are brought to the altar by our community of faith to become the Body and Blood of Christ. And so there is no question for us of, “What is this”?
“Rabbi, when did you get here”? Again, we know the answer to this question: Jesus Christ is and will forever be here with us. Jesus is really and truly present in our Eucharist, and also in each and every one of us; in our relationships; in our works of love and kindness; justice and peace; in our care for all of creation. Jesus is present in making holy; consecrating not only bread and wine here before us but all of us gathered here. Jesus is present in making our entire Church more and more, in the words of our Eucharistic Prayer, “one Body, one Spirit in Christ.” And so there is no question of, “Rabbi, when did you get here”? Christ is here, with and in us, now and forever.
Yet how many of us experience times in which we ask: “Where is God in this”? These experiences may be personal illness in mind, body, or spirit, or the illness or death of a loved one. Many of us, in our wider communities and some right here in our parish, experience poverty; hunger; unemployment or underemployment. How many of us find it difficult to pray from time to time, as if God is at a distance; not readily answering our prayers? How many of us have perhaps had a bad experience with somebody in our Church; somebody in leadership in our Church? Perhaps the onslaught of tragedy; of violence; of war; of injustice in our daily news is enough to lead us to ask, “Where is God in this”?
And if we are asking where God is in our lives; in our world, then are we not asking a question very similar to the question the people of Israel asked in the Egyptian desert, or the question the crowds asked Jesus: “What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”?
These questions can then lead us to ask a question like what the crowds ask Jesus next in John’s Gospel: “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Like the crowds in Jesus’ time, we may not know where to start “to accomplish the works of God.” For those among us who have suffered, who have even experienced despair, can suffering; despair; even the weight of evil in our world not make us seem powerless? Jesus’ answer to what we can “do to accomplish the works of God,” “believe in the one whom [God] has sent,” may seem unhelpful to us in these situations.
“What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? To show in words and especially actions that we “believe in” Jesus, “the one whom [God] has sent,” is at the core of our faith. Jesus calls us all to believe in him and to show our belief in him by the way we live. But how do we do this if we genuinely have little materially or spiritually to offer? What if we have the resources but are unsure who is most in need; where or to whom best to direct them?
It is not in and of itself wrong for us to ask the next question the crowds ask Jesus: “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do”? But today Jesus returns our question with a question, whether we are rich or poor; whether our faith is strong or weak: Not what can I do, but what can you do with what God has given you?
What can we do? How has God gifted all of us “to accomplish the works of God? We may not have received much in order “to accomplish the works of God.” But if we are baptized into Christ; if we have received Christ in our Eucharist, we are all called “to accomplish the works of God.”
Within the last week I have witnessed many examples from this very faith community of accomplishing “the works of God.” We Basilians and many beyond our order continue to grieve the sudden loss of our brother Fr. Joe Lanzalaco, a man who authentically accomplished “the works of God” in this life. Fr. Joe brought people; Christian community together by his presence; his cheerfulness; his depth of faith. Many of us, from Bishops Matano and Clark to the homeless of House of Mercy, who could offer almost nothing but their presence, joined together to worship; to remember Fr. Joe at his funeral. Many more of us offered ministry during the funeral Mass; food and drink before and after… If nothing else, many more offered words of consolation; offered prayer. On behalf of my brother Basilians I thank you. And I pray for you. Like Fr. Joe, you are accomplishing “the works of God” to which Jesus calls us.
How else can we “accomplish the works of God”? Mother Teresa of Calcutta once said, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” And the French philosopher Gabriel Marcel said, “To love another is to say, ‘you, too, shall live.’” To love another is to will that this person have eternal life. And so I ask us to look around here for a moment. Whether the first person you see is a family member; a friend; a complete stranger, are we able to offer this prayer for this person: “Lord, I will that this person shall live; may this person have eternal life”?
If we can offer this prayer for another, we show in a small but significant way our love for one another: “You, too, shall live.” We worship here; celebrate Eucharist together as a community of faith. “What is this”? “Rabbi, when did you get here”? “What can we do to accomplish the works of God”? Our “Rabbi,” Jesus Christ, has always been here in our worship; our words and works of love; kindness; peace; justice; our support of those in particular need. This is our willing one another toward eternal life; toward inheriting “the food that endures for eternal life.” This is the visible and active sign we offer our world that we “believe in” Jesus Christ, “the one [God] has sent.”
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