Here is the text of the homily I prepared for this weekend's celebrations: a reflection on the promise of God that he will send one of our own to assure his presence among us.
Learning to trust the source
Many in this community know that for the past year or so, I’ve been visiting regularly in the schools affiliated with this parish. Since September of this past year, that list has been expanded to include a third school. In the case of this most recent addition, I do bus duty once a week, along with one of the teachers. Bus duty entails standing outside the school and welcoming the students as they hop their way (sometimes happily, and sometimes not so happily) off the buses. You can imagine the joy I felt when after the first couple of weeks of curious looks from the students, I eventually began to hear greetings from them: Hi Father! It’s the sure sign that at last, this face is becoming familiar to the children, and that’s the first sign of being accepted by some of my worst critics.
That’s the way it usually happens, but recognition and acceptance are not to be taken for granted, or so I learned this past week when I was visiting and one of the students looked up at me and said: … and who are you? Lessons in humility are part and parcel of the adventure, but this is also a reminder that I should never take it for granted that the students all know who I am, much less what I’m doing wandering the halls of the school.
The book of Deuteronomy recounts today another time in history when the people of Israel were looking for familiar faces. In this case, they were looking for a prophet from among their own people who would be able to tell them about God: someone they would be able to recognize. If they could find such a person, they promised to heed his teachings (cf Deut 18:15), just like students will tend to trust a teacher that they have come to know. Even in the time of Moses, God predicted that the time would come when he would raise up for them a prophet from among their own people (Deut 18:18).
The hope was that if they knew the one who had been called, perhaps they would more easily come to place their trust in him, but when Jesus himself came upon the scene and tried to speak with those he knew best about God, the reaction was anything but trusting. Today’s gospel passage speaks of a time when Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum, to the village where the disciple Peter had grown up. When Jesus went into the synagogue on the Sabbath, as was his custom, the people were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority (Mk 1:22), yet because he was a relative newcomer, they still needed some time to get to know him.
Those who were in the synagogue that day would have known the prophecy of Deuteronomy: that God would one day appoint a prophet from among their own people, but when that prophet came to light (in the person of Jesus), they were not immediately as accepting as God may have expected. Instead, they were cynical, less than entirely trusting: like a child who might meet an unfamiliar face in the most unexpected environment. Should it be any wonder then that we might find it difficult at times to believe that the promise of our God has indeed come to pass: that a face that has become familiar to us, a person we have truly come to trust should have words of wisdom to offer?
Perhaps the most difficult thing to do is to listen in faith for these words of wisdom, and to trust that these words are indeed from God. This is the voice that we hear in this place, the voice that teaches us how to promote good order and unhindered devotion to the Lord (1 Cor 7:35). Let us strive therefore to listen in faith, to welcome the Word of God when we hear it, and to celebrate it in acts of charity and goodness toward others.
That’s the way it usually happens, but recognition and acceptance are not to be taken for granted, or so I learned this past week when I was visiting and one of the students looked up at me and said: … and who are you? Lessons in humility are part and parcel of the adventure, but this is also a reminder that I should never take it for granted that the students all know who I am, much less what I’m doing wandering the halls of the school.
The book of Deuteronomy recounts today another time in history when the people of Israel were looking for familiar faces. In this case, they were looking for a prophet from among their own people who would be able to tell them about God: someone they would be able to recognize. If they could find such a person, they promised to heed his teachings (cf Deut 18:15), just like students will tend to trust a teacher that they have come to know. Even in the time of Moses, God predicted that the time would come when he would raise up for them a prophet from among their own people (Deut 18:18).
The hope was that if they knew the one who had been called, perhaps they would more easily come to place their trust in him, but when Jesus himself came upon the scene and tried to speak with those he knew best about God, the reaction was anything but trusting. Today’s gospel passage speaks of a time when Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum, to the village where the disciple Peter had grown up. When Jesus went into the synagogue on the Sabbath, as was his custom, the people were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority (Mk 1:22), yet because he was a relative newcomer, they still needed some time to get to know him.
Those who were in the synagogue that day would have known the prophecy of Deuteronomy: that God would one day appoint a prophet from among their own people, but when that prophet came to light (in the person of Jesus), they were not immediately as accepting as God may have expected. Instead, they were cynical, less than entirely trusting: like a child who might meet an unfamiliar face in the most unexpected environment. Should it be any wonder then that we might find it difficult at times to believe that the promise of our God has indeed come to pass: that a face that has become familiar to us, a person we have truly come to trust should have words of wisdom to offer?
Perhaps the most difficult thing to do is to listen in faith for these words of wisdom, and to trust that these words are indeed from God. This is the voice that we hear in this place, the voice that teaches us how to promote good order and unhindered devotion to the Lord (1 Cor 7:35). Let us strive therefore to listen in faith, to welcome the Word of God when we hear it, and to celebrate it in acts of charity and goodness toward others.
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