The article defines the issue: “This is ‘purpose anxiety’ — the gnawing sense that one’s life should have an overarching purpose, but it’s unclear how to discover it.” It then goes on to further explore the issue and point to possible solutions. However, in my opinion, the article clearly identifies the root cause, without noting any correlation to the problem.
Religion, for instance, often offered purpose and meaning to believers. But those who identify as religious has dropped significantly over the years (although that appears to be leveling off recently according to a 2025 survey by the Pew Research Center).
What do the numbers show?
I am smart enough to know that anxiety and depression have other causes and that there are multiple variables involved. That said, I think it would be quite interesting to see the anxiety/depression numbers for those who have found their purpose in God.
Three individuals are about to be executed, put to death before the firing squad. One is a Japanese fella, one is from Oklahoma, and the third is a crazy Cajun named Boudreaux. The guard brings the Japanese fella forward, and the executioner asks if he has any last-minute requests. He replies, ‘No, I do not,’ so the executioner sets him up and then turns and shouts to the firing squad: “Ready! Aim…” Suddenly, the Japanese fella yells out: “Tsunami! Run run run.” While everyone is distracted and panicked, the Japanese fella runs away and escapes. The guard brings the next prisoner along—the Oklahoman. The executioner asks if he has any last-minute requests. He answers, “I have nothing to say”, so the executioner gets him ready, then barks his order to the firing squad: “Ready! Aim…” Suddenly, the Oklahoman yells as loud as he can: “Tornado! Run run run!!!” Everyone is again distracted, and the Oklahoman makes his getaway. By now, ol’ Boudreaux has got it all figured out. The guard escorts him forward and asks if he has any last-minute requests. Boudreaux replies, “No,” but has a grin on his face. The executioner turns sharply to the firing squad and shouts: “Ready! Aim…” And Boudreaux hollers out: “Fire!”
I do not believe the firing squad was distracted, Boudreaux.
When I drive, I’m not a speeder—maybe three or four miles over at most. I’ll set the cruise, and then I don’t have to worry about it. The other day, as I was driving down the road, cruise set, I was listening to a book. I’m not sure which one, but I was fairly well engrossed. As I was going along, someone came up and passed me going at least 20-25 mph faster than me. I wished him well, but then another car came up on me pretty quick, and before you know it, there are about four cars behind me. I look in the rearview mirror and say, “I’m not getting a ticket for you folks, so just go around.” At which point, I look at my speedometer. I had set the cruise as I was leaving the last town, but I was involved with my book. Unfortunately, when I set the cruise, I was in a 45 mph zone, but now I was in a 70. I’m not sure how many miles I had putted along at that speed, but I’m certain those stuck behind me were quite pleased when I figured it out.
When it comes to accidents, being distracted is the number one cause. I’ll try to do better.
Merriam-Webster defines distraction as: “an object that directs one’s attention away from something else.” Sometimes those distractions are not of our own making: you’re sitting quietly reading your book, and a meteor crashes through the ceiling and obliterates the coffee table, sending the cat into a maniacal frenzy. Not your fault or your doing. At other times, you are supposed to be studying for an exam, but you choose to be distracted by playing video games.
Why do we do such things? It might be out of compulsion, a lack of discipline, or simply because sometimes we just aren’t all that bright. Any number of reasons, but ultimately, we’re looking for that one thing that will make us happy in the moment and distract us from what we should be focusing on.
Qoheleth is the author of the book of Ecclesiastes. In the third verse of chapter one, he writes, “What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?” (1:3) In this context, the word “toil” refers to all human efforts, whether they are noble, common, necessary, silly, or anything else. In our first lesson today, he discussed the toil of wisdom: “I applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven.” (1:13) His goal was to discover the worth of gaining wisdom in his life. Similarly, he explores the meaning behind the toil of gaining wealth, possessions, honor, pleasure, and labor. He did all, apparently knowing no limits.
He concluded his discussion of each pursuit by declaring their purpose and value to be, “Utterly senseless, everything is senseless!” “Meaningless of meaninglessness! All is meaningless!” “Futility of futilities, all is futile.” “Absolutely pointless! Everything is pointless.” “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” All of our wealth, wisdom, possessions, honor, pleasure, labor—all of our toils and distractions are nothing. Are you depressed yet? “Thanks, Father John, so glad I came to church today for this uplifting and edifying message. I’ll be sure to sleep in next Sunday.” If we left it there, we would all be more than a bit depressed, but Qoheleth does not leave it there, and neither shall we.
To work and seek only wealth and possessions solely for oneself is vanity and meaningless; however, building up treasures in heaven offers lasting and abundant rewards. Pursuing pleasure purely for pleasure’s sake is the height of selfishness, but truly loving as Christ loved us and finding joy in God and others are among the many blessings of creation. I’m certain you see the difference. The issue is that we often seek these things apart from God, and anything apart from God is defined in one simple word: sin.
This is part of the message from the parable we read this morning. The man has worked hard, he has toiled year after year, and has become wealthy. Now, he has a bumper crop, and in his vanity, he decides that he is set and only needs to build barns large enough to hold everything. He thinks he can be done with all this toiling. Yet God says to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” And Jesus adds, “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” The man became so distracted by earthly riches and toil—“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity”—that he lost sight of what he should have been focused on.
In the end, Qoheleth tells us, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” (12:13) What should we focus on, and not let distractions steer us away? The fear of God and His commandments. What does it mean to fear God? Charles Spurgeon answers that for us. “By this we do not mean the servile fear which worketh dread and bondage, but that holy fear which pays reverence before the majesty of the Most High, and has a high esteem of all things sacred, because God is great, and greatly to be praised.” (Sermon: Obadiah; or, Early Piety Eminent Piety) If that is the fear of God, what are His commandments? You know the answer; we talked about it a few weeks back: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” (John 13:34) (I can assure you that I know more Bible verses than this, but I do not know of any that are more important.)
Qoheleth tells us that everything is vanity, meaningless, pointless, and futile except to remain in awe of God and His majesty and to love one another, and we know that loving one another is, in fact, loving God.
You have heard of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. In 1945, he was imprisoned for speaking out against the Soviet regime. After his release, he spent from 1958 to 1968 writing The Gulag Archipelago, a nonfiction book about life in a Soviet prison or gulag. As I studied these verses from Ecclesiastes, I was reminded of one of Solzhenitsyn’s conclusions. He wrote,
“What about the main thing in life, all its riddles? If you want, I’ll spell it out for you right now. Do not pursue what is illusory—property and position: all that is gained at the expense of your nerves decade after decade, and is confiscated in one fell night. [He is thinking of his arrest when he lost everything.] Live with a steady superiority over life——don’t be afraid of misfortune, and do not yearn after happiness;… whom should you envy? And why? Our envy of others devours us most of all. Rub your eyes and purify your heart—and prize above all else in the world those who love you and who wish you well. Do not hurt them or scold them, and never part from any of them in anger; after all, you simply do not know: it might be your last act before your arrest, and that will be how you are imprinted in their memory!” (p.591-592)
We must work to care for ourselves and our families. We have possessions for the same reasons. We seek entertainment to bring joy, and even Qoheleth tells us this is from God. He says, “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?” (2:24-25) Still, none of these things should take priority over or distract us from our fear of God and our love for one another.
Do not sin. Keep in awe and fear of God, and love one another. From Jesus to Qoheleth to Solzhenitsyn to many others, there is no greater or nobler meaning to life.
Let us pray: Most holy Trinity, Godhead indivisible—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—our first beginning and our last end, You have made us in Your own image and likeness. Grant that all the thoughts of our minds, all the words of our tongues, all the affections of our hearts, and all the actions of our being may always be conformed to Your holy Will. Thus, after we have seen here below in appearances and in a dark manner by means of faith, we may finally come to contemplate You face-to-face In the perfect possession of You forever in heaven. Amen.
President Jimmy Carter once told a joke during a speech in Japan that made the audience burst into laughter. Impressed, he asked how the interpreter managed to get such a big reaction. The interpreter admitted to saying, “President Carter told a funny story. Everyone must laugh.”
Translating from one language to another isn’t always easy. When I travel, I’ve learned to use Google Translate, but I’ve also learned that the other person doesn’t always receive the same message you’re seeing because of translation issues. Some companies might have learned this lesson when entering new markets.
Kentucky Fried Chicken: You know it and you love it. It is “Finger-licking good,” except in China, where it translates to “Eat your fingers off.”
Clairol: Some of you ladies may know of the curling iron named “Mist Stick.” All is well and good in the USA, but in Germany, it translates as “Manure Stick.” Also known as, How to End the Date Early.
Coors Beer: In the 1970s and 80s, they had an ad campaign with the slogan, “Turn it loose.” Sounds like fun, unless you’re in Spain, because it translates to “Suffer from Diarrhea.”
Translating isn’t always an exact science, especially considering the complexity and nuances of the English language, so it’s best to consult those who might know a bit more than even Google Translate.
True for marketing campaigns and also for the Bible.
Today, in our Gospel, we read the Lord’s Prayer:
Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.
Question: When you heard that, how many of you thought, “That’s not the Lord’s Prayer I know. Seems they missed a few words.” What about “Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven” or “deliver us from evil”? Those are pretty important bits to just leave out.
I thought the same thing, and it got me to thinking about how the Gospels came through history to us. This is one of those technical lessons, so if you start to glaze over, I’ll try and wrap it up quickly.
First, how many Gospels are there? Four? Nope. There are actually over thirty books or parts of books that claim to be Gospels. There’s the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, The Gospel of Truth, and even one called the Gospel of Judas. But over time, the Church studied these closely and decided only four could be called true Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Since Matthew, Mark, and Luke are so similar, they’re called the Synoptic Gospels, meaning they can be viewed together.
The Church has always believed that John was written independently of the others; however, it’s generally thought that the authors of the synoptic Gospels copied parts of each other’s and then added their own original material. How does that work?
Initially, it was believed that Matthew was written first. This is known as the Primacy of Matthew. This view states that both Mark and Luke used Matthew as a guide for writing their Gospels. However, most scholars now believe this isn’t correct and agree on the Primacy of Mark.
This is known as the Four-Source Hypothesis—a hypothesis, it is, and it’ll help if you have the diagram on the insert—says that Mark was written first, and Matthew and Luke used it as a guide. There’s a lot of reasoning behind it, which can cause you to glaze over, but Luke had a copy of Mark, then added some of his own material, which is known as “L.” Matthew also had a copy of Mark, and added his own material, known as “M.” Matthew and Luke were written independently of each other, but both contain similar sayings of Jesus (that are not included in Mark), which introduces a truly hypothetical document know as “Q,” which stands for the German word Quelle, meaning source. Q is said not to contain many of the stories of Jesus, but is primarily a collection of his sayings.
Putting all that together: if you take the Gospel of Mark, add L material, and then add Q, you end up with the Gospel of Luke. Clear as mud? It gets a lot more complicated, but we won’t go there today.
As I said, hypothetical Q is said to contain the sayings of Jesus. These sayings would include—the Beatitudes, Love Your Enemies, the temptation in the desert, and—you guessed it—the Lord’s Prayer. The Lord’s Prayer is only found in Luke’s and Matthew’s Gospels, not in Mark or John. The version of the Lord’s Prayer we read today is from the Gospel of Luke. What we are most familiar with is the version from the Gospel of Matthew. In other words, using the hypothesis we put forth, Luke may have only used Q material, but Matthew would have used Q plus some of his own M material to write his version. Why would they be different? Another theory here: Matthew was with Jesus, while Luke was not. Luke only had access to Q, but Matthew had access to Jesus—he had been with Jesus. Perhaps Matthew heard the expanded version and included it in his Gospel. Ultimately, we don’t really know.
What makes this even more confusing is that if you look at an older version of the Bible, such as the King James Version, you’ll discover that the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew and Luke is exactly the same. Why? A little thing called harmonization. At some point, someone decided they should be the same, and so, presto, they made it so.
Do you really need all this theory to pray the Lord’s Prayer? Nope, but since the Bible contains so much of what we know and understand about God, it’s important to have some knowledge of how it all works. More importantly, though, is knowing how to apply it to our lives. N.T. Wright provides us with a brief guide. He says, “Jesus intended this sequence of thought—that is, the Lord’s Prayer—to act more like the scaffolding than the whole building, though of course the prayer is used as it stands by countless Christians every day.” (Matthew for Everyone, Part One, p.58)
If the Lord’s Prayer is like scaffolding, then it’s truly the place where the work can take place. If I look up at the cross beams of this church building, I know they aren’t the roof, but the means by which the roof can stand. The same is true with the Lord’s Prayer. It’s an excellent prayer on its own, but it’s also just the beginning of prayer. We need look no further than the very first word—Our—to realize that this is much bigger than a personal petition. It’s not just about me. In fact, nothing in the prayer is spoken in the singular; it’s always in the plural. That one word—Our—tells us that when we pray, we are praying in the company of all God’s children, both the living and the dead, and those to come—the Church. Our gathers my prayers and your prayers together and brings them all into the very throne room of God, so that those prayers may be offered before the One who loves us and made us for Himself. Our binds us together as members of the very Body of Christ. Our is so much more, and it’s only the first word. It’s one piece of the scaffolding, and from it, we build our prayer.
I once heard it said that if we pray the Lord’s Prayer rightly, then it should take us all day. It’s easy to see how true that is when we consider it as the scaffolding from which all our prayers flow.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer dedicates a chapter of his book, The Cost of Discipleship, to the Lord’s Prayer, breaking down each line and explaining its significance. He also provides a summary of the prayer. “Jesus told his disciples not only how to pray, but also what to pray. The Lord’s Prayer is not merely the pattern prayer, it is the way Christians must pray. If they pray this prayer, God will certainly hear them. The Lord’s Prayer is the quintessence of prayer. A disciple’s prayer is founded on and circumscribed by it. Once again Jesus does not leave his disciples in ignorance; he teaches them the Lord’s Prayer and so leads them to a clear understanding of prayer.” (Macmillan, 1979, p.184)
It can be a fun exercise to explore the more technical aspects of Scripture, but that might not be for everyone. However, learning to hear God’s voice through them and further understanding how to apply those words is a lifelong practice for us all. When you pray the Lord’s Prayer, take time to meditate on the individual words and petitions, and enter into a richer prayer life.
Let us pray:
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
A woman decided to have her portrait painted. She said to the artist, “Paint me with diamond rings, a diamond necklace, emerald bracelets, a ruby brooch, and a gold Rolex.”
“But you are not wearing any of those things,” the artist replied.
“I know,” she said. “It’s in case I should die before my husband. I’m sure he will remarry right away, and I want his new wife to go crazy looking for the jewelry.”
The Golden Jubilee Diamond is the world’s largest cut and faceted diamond. It weighs 545.67 carats and is roughly the size of a golf ball. Its market value ranges from $4 million to $12 million, depending on the market. However, due to its color and clarity, it is not the most expensive diamond. That honor belongs to the Pink Star Diamond, which weighs 59.6 carats and sold for $71.2 million. Both diamonds were cut to maximize their carat weight.
When it comes to cutting diamonds, the round brilliant cut offers the most sparkle, with 57 or 58 facets. 57 if the bottom tip remains pointed, and 58 if the point is cut away. These facets are added to help the stone reflect and refract light, creating, in diamond terms, scintillation.
Perhaps a lot of unnecessary detail, but the point is that our Gospel reading today—the story of Mary and Martha—appears only in Luke’s Gospel and, when studied, proves to be scintillating in all its facets. There are many ways to interpret it, most of which are true, while some are just silly.
One facet, and perhaps the most apparent one, is the difference between the busy and the prayerful life. Martha is rushing around, taking care of all the chores, while Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening to His words. Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better way, so we might say that a contemplative life is preferable to a busy one. It’s a good message, and I have preached it before. However, it does not capture the fullness of what is transpiring.
To start with, if we claim that life is all about the contemplative, then no work gets done. We end up sitting around all day singing Kum ba Yah, letting someone else handle everything. That was similar to what happened in the time of Paul. Do you know what he said? “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. Now, such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10-12) When Jesus says that Mary chose the better, he’s not saying that Martha chose the wrong. Something more is happening.
Another facet has us viewing this through a feminist lens, and I’m not being disrespectful when I say that. During the time of Jesus, within the Jewish home, there were only two places where men and women would mingle: outside or in the marital bedroom. The main public room—think of it as the living room—was the gathering place for visitors, but it was for men only. It was in this public room that Jesus was speaking. Yet, even though it was reserved for men, Mary was there, sitting with the men—the little hussy. She is not fulfilling her duty as a woman by cooking and cleaning. Not only that, she is also sitting in the place of a man. Yet, when Martha complains, Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part. For some, this interpretation highlights how Jesus leveled the playing field for men and women. It can be viewed as a type of liberation for women, placing them on equal ground with men. Another good sermon, and one I’ve preached before, but even though it makes a good point, it doesn’t capture the bigger picture.
Another facet would be to take this same idea and apply it to how Jesus crossed all boundaries. By making the Gospel accessible to Mary and speaking to her so openly, it can go further to suggest that Jesus is willing to cross all boundaries—ethnic, social, political, cultural, and more—in order to bring the message of God’s love and redemption to everyone. An excellent point, and I’m sure at some point, I’ve preached it.
The ideas of elevating women or crossing boundaries are both valid understandings and teachings, but they are both lacking because they don’t address all aspects of what is happening.
One of the silly interpretations comes from some who suggest that Martha and Mary were deeply in love with Jesus, and that Martha’s jealousy stemmed from Mary’s physical closeness to Jesus. Just for the record, that is not a facet, I haven’t preached it, and I’m never going to.
As you examine these events, you’ll discover various other facets, but they are simply that, facets. So, this week, as I kept trying to grasp the message, I never felt truly satisfied with my understanding. I kept focusing on the individual characters—Mary, Martha, Jesus, the disciples—and realized I had been approaching it all wrong. Instead of seeking understanding through the facets, I needed to pull back and view the diamond as a whole.
I believe that this is what Luke was pointing to in the opening sentence: “As Jesus and his disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.” To understand, we don’t focus on the individual characters; instead, we consider the home and what is inside.
There is Jesus, our King and Redeemer. Like Mary, we are called to sit at His feet, learn from Him, and allow Him to guide our lives. At the same time, we are to be like Martha — tending to our individual callings, whether that means being a homemaker, a priest, a clerk, a nurse, or whatever else Jesus has assigned us. In doing so, we find balance. Too much work and we neglect time with Jesus. Although sitting with Jesus is the best choice, we can’t spend all our lives just sitting; we must also do the work. Does that mean we’ve abandoned Jesus? No. He is still in the house. He is still available to us. He is working alongside us.
In the Gospel of John, at the Last Supper, Jesus speaks to the disciples and says, “Whoever has my commandments and keeps them…” (John 14:21). Clarification: What are Jesus’ commandments? He gave them to the disciples just a few minutes earlier: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)
So, “‘Whoever has my commandments and keeps them—that is, whoever loves—he is the one who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.’ Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, ‘Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us and not to the world?’ Jesus answered him, ‘If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’” (John 14:21-23)
The events that occur in Martha’s home are an embodiment of Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John.
Our bodies and our souls are a home. Within our home, we work, play, rest, and pray. We live. If we keep the commandment of Jesus to love one another, He and the Father, that is, the Holy Spirit, will come to us and become part of our home. There, guided by the very Spirit of God, we will live a life that is pleasing to Him.
Pitting Mary against Martha is the wrong approach when admiring this diamond. The former archbishop of Turin expressed it well: “In our house, there is room for Martha and room for Mary, and we must occupy both places. We must be Mary because we are welcoming the Word, and we must be Martha because we are receiving the Son of Man.” We need to be Mary to learn about God’s love, and we need to be Martha to express that love to others. It’s not Mary or Martha, but Mary in Martha (cf. Sanctify Your Daily Life by Stefan Cardinal Wyszynski, p.100), and vice versa, with the Holy Spirit working in both.
When inviting the Holy Spirit into your home, don’t just give it access to the “spiritual” aspects of your life, but instead, allow it to roam freely throughout every room, so you will have access to and benefit from this Gift from God.
Let us pray: Come, O Divine Spirit, fill our hearts with Your heavenly fruits: charity, joy, peace, patience, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, meekness, modesty, self-control, and chastity, so that we may never grow tired in serving God. Through continued faithful submission to Your inspiration, may we be found worthy to be united forever with You in the love of the Father and the Son. Amen.
Remember Otis Campbell? He was the town drunk on The Andy Griffith Show who would lock himself in jail rather than waiting for Andy or Barney to arrest him. Well, imagine another Otis-like character, let’s call him Boudreaux, who doesn’t turn himself in but gets arrested for the umpteenth time and has to appear before the same judge, each and every time. However, on this most recent occasion, he makes a rather unusual request of the judge.
“Your Honor,” Boudreaux says, “if you don’t mind, I would like to try myself and judge myself.”
With nothing to lose, the judge says, “OK, let’s hear it.”
Well, ol’ Boudreaux lets loose on himself. “Boudreaux, you are a low-down, no-good polecat of a man, who has abandoned every responsibility you ever had. You have spent your entire life thinking only of your own selfish desires. And now here you are, once again, throwing yourself on the mercy of this court. However, you will find no mercy today, because you do not deserve it.” Then, turning to the judge, he says, “Your Honor, I find myself guilty as charged, and I sentence myself to a $100.00 fine and 30 days in jail. And I pray that God will help me understand the wickedness of my ways.”
The judge nodded thoughtfully and said, “Boudreaux, I think you really mean it this time. I commend you for your righteousness. I’ll accept your judgment.”
At which, Boudreaux interrupted the judge and said, “Your Honor, I have one more thing. I suspend my sentence!”
Mercy. When we think of mercy, we often picture throwing ourselves on the mercy of the court. However, I doubt we often consider it as a Christian virtue, even though it is considered the greatest. St. Thomas Aquinas writes in his Summa Theologica, “Mercy is the greatest of the virtues, since it belongs to God to show mercy, and in this His omnipotence is manifested to the greatest degree.” And more simply, Pope Francis wrote, “Mercy is the very foundation of the Church’s life.” (Misericordiae Vultus, 2015) So, what is mercy?
Mercy comes from the Latin word misericordia, which literally means, “having a miserable heart.” Aquinas helps us understand more clearly what this means. He explains that there are two parts of mercy required for it to be considered a virtue—affective mercy and effective mercy.
Affective mercy is an emotional response—how something makes you feel. You see someone suffering in some way, and you feel sympathy or compassion for them. However, simply having sympathy is not a virtue. Consider the words of St. James: “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:14-17) What good is it if someone has an emotional response to someone’s suffering but doesn’t act to ease that suffering? Affective mercy is good, but for it to be a true virtue, it must be accompanied by effective mercy.
Effective mercy is actually doing something about the suffering of others. Going back to James, “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food,” and you provide them with good clothing and give them something to eat, then you are acting and actually doing something about their suffering. However, effective mercy, action alone is not a virtue.
Remember the parable Jesus told about the persistent widow who kept coming to the judge seeking justice. Yet, the judge “neither feared God nor respected man.” (Luke 18:2b) The widow kept returning, but the judge didn’t care anything about her; however, he ended up giving her what she wanted, saying, “Though I neither fear God nor respect man, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.” (Luke 18:4b-5) I don’t care anything about this widow, but so that she’ll leave me alone, I’ll give her what she wants. It’s like someone giving to a charity, not because they care about the cause but because they need a tax write-off. Affective mercy is action toward someone who is suffering, but without sympathy or compassion for them, it is not a virtue.
For mercy to be a virtue, it must be both effective and affective. Mercy as a virtue is defined by Aquinas “as the compassion in our hearts for another person’s misery, a compassion which drives us to do what we can to help him.” (Source)
The greatest act of mercy is witnessed in Christ upon the Cross. Through His compassion and sympathy for our fallen state, He submitted Himself to “death, even death on a cross.” And, from this example, we draw our inspiration.
Perhaps Shakespeare expressed it most eloquently when he gave the words to Portia in The Merchant of Venice.
“The quality of mercy is not strain’d, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: ‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God’s When mercy seasons justice.” (Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene I)
Mercy is an attribute of God, and when we show mercy, combining affective and effective, we reflect God’s nature.
“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the law? What do you read there?”
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”
“You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
“And who is my neighbor?”
The Parable of the Good Samaritan answers the question. Your neighbor is the one who shows mercy. Your neighbor is the one who feels compassion and sympathy for you and acts to help alleviate, if not all, then at least part of your suffering. Jesus says, if that is indeed how your neighbor acts towards you, “Go and do likewise.”
Yes, Jesus, I hear what you’re saying, but they are not like us. I mean, just look at them. They certainly don’t look or act like any of my neighbors.
Jesus says, “Did I stutter? Go and do likewise.”
From Thomas Merton, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.” (Disputed Questions, p.122) Why are we not to put qualifiers on our love and who may or may not be our neighbor? In the same paragraph, Merton answers by referring to 1 John 4:19: “We love because [God] first loved us.” St. Paul says something similar in his letter to the Romans. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)
God did not stop to question whether or not we were worthy of His love or whether or not He should show us mercy. He loved, and He was merciful. Go and do likewise.
As God’s beloved children, redeemed by the blood of His Son, this is what is required of us. The Prophet Micah writes,
“With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy* and to walk humbly with your God.”
If you feel sympathy and compassion for someone, then do something to help alleviate their suffering. This is how God loved us and how we should love others in return.
A prayer given to us by St. Ignatius. Let us pray: Dear Lord teach us to be generous; teach us to serve you as you deserve, to give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not to seek for rest, to labor and not to ask for reward, save that of knowing that we do your will. Amen.
* The ESV translates חֶסֶד as kindness, but the Hebrew is written וְאַהֲבַת חֶסֶד, which can rightly be translated as mercy andconveys the sense of undeserved compassion and covenantal faithfulness that Micah is emphasizing. All that to say, I like the ESV version, but tweaked it for what I believe is a better understanding.
Moses the Black, an Ethiopian living in Egypt during the 4th century, was born a slave and later became a bandit. After years as a feared criminal, he repented and approached the doors of a desert monastery, weeping for his sins. Because of his past, the monks did not allow him entry, even afraid at the mention of his name. However, after some time, they received and accepted him.
Although a member of the monastery, his passions continued to wage a spiritual battle, so he sought the help of the elder Abba Isidore. Moses followed Isidore’s instructions, from eating just enough to sustain himself while remaining hungry at all times, to standing all night in prayer. At night, Moses was led by the ladder to take on the task of fetching water from the well for the other brothers, especially those who were older and lived farthest from the well.
One night, while drawing water, Moses felt a sharp blow to his back and was knocked into the well, where he lay until he was found the next morning when the other brothers discovered him. A year passed before he was fully recovered, and it was then that Isidore declared him to be clean of his demons and ordered him to be ordained a deacon. On the day of his ordination, the bishop clothed Moses in white robes and declared, “Now Abba Moses is entirely white!” Moses replied, “Only outwardly, for God knows that I am still dark within.”
Continuing to protest his worthiness to serve at the altar, the Bishop set out to test him and ordered the other clergy to drive Moses from the altar and the church. Moses accepted this without protest. Witnessing this and being convinced of Moses’ humility, the Bishop ordained him a priest, a role he faithfully served for fifteen years until his martyrdom in 400 AD.
Moses learned that the monastery would soon be attacked by bandits and encouraged the others to flee. All did, except for seven who remained with Moses. When he was urged to leave, he responded, “For many years already I have awaited the time when the words which my Master, the Lord Jesus Christ, should be fulfilled: “All who take up the sword, shall perish by the sword” (Mt. 26:52). (Source)
The good thief hanging on the cross to the right of Jesus rebuked the other thief, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.”
I don’t know why Moses chose to remain, knowing that staying would almost certainly be a death sentence. Perhaps he thought he could buy the others more time to escape if he put up a fight. Whatever the case, I wonder if he heard the words of the good thief as he waited, “We indeed have been condemned justly.” I also wonder if he heard the words of St. Paul, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a)
We are all rightly condemned for our actions. Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ, our Lord! Through Him, we are saved. He remembers us and, on our last day, brings us into the eternal paradise of His kingdom.
You know him, but you probably don’t know him by name—Jonathan Goldsmith. A few facts about his life: his passport requires no photograph, his business card simply says ‘I’ll Call You,’ and he brought a knife to a gunfight—just to even the odds. He is The Most Interesting Man in the World, and from 2006 to 2016, he was often heard saying, “I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.” Of course, the internet got hold of that, and the memes continue to explode.
I don’t always live dangerously, but when I do, I press send before proofreading.
I don’t always pass slow drivers, but when I do, I check to see if they look as stupid as they drive.
I don’t always “Whoop,” but when I do, there it is.
On days when I know I have a service or will be out and about doing priesty things, I wear my cassock and collar. It really does change the way people look at me and respond. When I’m dressed in regular street clothes, most folks just pass by. When I’m in the cassock and collar, most will speak. The cassock and collar identify me with the church, faith, and hopefully, God. I believe it’s important and helps people see “the church” in the world. The other day, I made a hospital visit, so I was in cassock and collar. On the way back to my car, a mom, a dad, and their four children were heading in. One of the boys looked over at me and then shouted, “Dad, it’s the Pope!” His dad corrected him and told him that I was a priest, but it made me think, “I don’t always wear a cassock and collar, but when I do, people think I’m the Pope!” How you doin’?
There are certain individuals, organizations, and ideas that hold a place of honor in our lives. When we see or think about them, we want to be associated with them. If we can’t necessarily be in a relationship with them, then we will seek ways to be identified with them. Can I just say, “Go, Thunder!” Score of 103-91. A few years ago, I attended an OSU basketball game, but it and the final against the Pacers were the only basketball games I’ve seen in at least a decade, if not more. Yet, when the Thunder won, I—and I’m sure every other Oklahoman—didn’t say, “The Thunder won!” Instead, it was, “WE won!” We won the national championship. Yes, indeed. The most difficult thing I did that entire evening was feeding myself, but WE won. We celebrate in the parade, we wear our gear, and we boast that we are champions.
No, I don’t believe that I’m the Pope, but I do closely associate and am aligned with the Church. My identity is deeply tied to it. This association, I pray that this connection also reflects my relationship and identity in God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Being associated and finding identity with the Church, God, and even the Thunder isn’t a bad thing. It brings joy, happiness, and, for the Church and God, a sense of purpose. It fulfills me. However, such connection and identity can sometimes lead to undesirable effects and actions.
In Luke’s Gospel, leading up to our reading today, the Apostles witnessed and experienced many exciting and miraculous events. They saw Jesus calm the storm, feed the 5,000, cast out demons, and heal the sick. Peter declared Jesus to be the Christ, and together with James and John, they witnessed the Transfiguration. Additionally, Jesus sent them out to do the same works He was doing: preaching, healing, and casting out demons. When they return, they report their successes. Because of their association and identification with Jesus, they also began to see themselves as closely linked with the One Jesus identified with—the Father. This, in itself, is a very good thing. They begin to understand that they are truly God’s children; however, after the Transfiguration, things take an unpleasant turn.
The Apostles begin to think that if they were with Jesus, they could sit in the seats of honor in the coming kingdom, which they still only understood as an earthly kingdom. They start arguing about who is the greatest, so that they can rule, not only over the kingdom but also over each other. Going even further, now that they were in so tight with Jesus and, through association, to the Father, they begin to see themselves having the same rights and powers that belong exclusively to God. When the Samaritan village turns away from Jesus, “James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’”
Remember Abraham’s nephew, Lot. God had enough of the wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah, so the “Lord rained down burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah—from the Lord out of the heavens. Thus, he overthrew those cities and the entire plain, destroying all those living in the cities—and also the vegetation in the land.” When Abraham looked down from the mountains, “he saw dense smoke rising from the land, like smoke from a furnace.”
James and John believed they had the right to judge as only God can judge. They not only wanted to be associated with and identified with Jesus and the Father, but they also sought God’s power. They wanted to judge, rage against those they saw as God’s enemies, and exact vengeance on them. They wanted to play God.
I’m not surprised that the Scriptures tell us Jesus rebuked them, but I am actually quite surprised that the Scriptures didn’t say, “And Jesus looked at them in dismay and said, ‘Are ya stupid? Nobody can call down fire from Heaven. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.’” Why didn’t He say that? Because maybe we can’t burn a place or person down like what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah, but we can and do call down fire in other ways.
We put on our Jesus gear. We’ve got the crosses we wear and the clothes with messages that proclaim our faith. We talk openly about our faith. We post messages on social media for all the world to see. And if there were a Jesus parade, we’d jump in and want to ride on the float. We want to be associated and identified with Jesus and our faith. Good. Keep it up. There are many ways to proclaim the Good News. But, like the Apostles, we can take this too far.
We can come to believe that because we are with Jesus, we are holy or even holier than others. We can come to believe that if someone opposes our beliefs, they are opposing God, and therefore must be silenced because they are wrong and evil. We may believe that if they fail to keep our standards (even though we fail to do so ourselves), they are weak and unloved by God. We can look at others and then to Jesus and ask, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” When we do this, we take on the exclusive powers of God, playing God ourselves. In doing so, our sins become greater than those we judge, and we are the ones who need rebuking.
However, there is a way for us to play God, and in doing so, we take on not just what we understand as the power of God, but God’s true nature, as witnessed in Jesus. For if we have seen Jesus, we have seen the Father. What do we see in Jesus? St. Paul summed it up for us in his letter to the Galatians that we read this morning. We see in Jesus “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Through the Spirit of God, we have the power to live this life.
William Temple was the Archbishop of Canterbury in the early 1940s. He writes,
“It is no good giving me a play like Hamlet or King Lear and telling me to write a play like that. Shakespeare could do it—I can’t. And it is no good showing me a life like the life of Jesus and telling me to live a life like that. Jesus could do it—I can’t. But if the genius of Shakespeare could come and live in me, then I could write plays like this. And if the Spirit [of God] could come into me, then I could live a life like His.”
Children may think I’m the Pope, but I’m smart enough to know I’m not even close. However, I desire to be so closely associated with and identified with Jesus that I begin to resemble Him. This transforming work is accomplished through the Spirit of God living within, and the fruit of this work is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Therefore, we must invite God’s Holy Spirit to take up residence in our soul, in our entire being, so that we may be as He is.
If you want to play God, bring peace. If you want to play God, remain faithful. If you want to play God, show kindness. In this way, you will not only be associated with and identified with the Lord, but you will also become like the Lord.
Let us pray (by St. Augustine): Breathe into me, Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy. Move in me, Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy. Attract my heart, Holy Spirit, that I may love only what is holy. Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy. Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I may always be holy. Amen.
Last week, we discussed how we are bombarded with so much information—74 GB every day. It’s no wonder we can never find our keys. Their location gets pushed out to make room for something else.
This week, I would like to talk about stuff. Not in general kind of stuff, but the stuff that fills our houses. I came across some amazing facts on the topic.
I don’t know who collects this kind of data, but the LA Times reports that the average American home contains 300,000 items. This is probably why one out of every ten American homes rents off-site storage and why another 25% of those with two-car garages can’t fit even one car in them.
3.1% of the children in the world live in the USA, but they are responsible for 40% of worldwide toy sales, averaging 238 toys per child.
When it comes to shopping, we spend more on shoes, jewelry, and watches than on higher education. Women in the USA and Europe will, on average, spend 8 years of their lives shopping.
Currently, the 12 percent of the world’s population that lives in North America and Western Europe accounts for 60 percent of private consumption spending, while the one-third of the world’s population living in South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa accounts for only 3.2 percent. Of that consumption, Americans spend $1.2 trillion on nonessential items—things we don’t need.
We have all this and desire even more for ourselves, but what’s funny (not haha) is the fact that even with all we spend, on average, we only donate 1.9% to charitable organizations. (Source for above statistics)
You might say, “None of that is true.” However, if you’ve ever had to move or clean out someone else’s house, you know it’s pretty much spot on.
You all know that my dad died last summer, and we had to go in and clean out his apartment. Throughout his life, he lived in larger places, and each time he moved, he collected more and more stuff. Later in life, he had to downsize. As a result, the number of items he had collected over the years became fewer and fewer. In the years before he died, he had a small but comfortable apartment, and all that stuff was distilled down to what he cherished the most— a piece of art or a picture of him walking on the beach with my niece.
At first, the task of cleaning out was overwhelming. What to do with this or that? Eventually, my brother and I decided that everyone could take what they wanted, and we would give the rest to Goodwill. In the end, my brother had about a shoebox full of things, and I made it up to a paper box along with some pictures. Other family members did the same. When we finished, at least 95% of what my dad valued went to Goodwill. It held value for him but not for anyone else, and that’s OK.
It’s not that we didn’t love our dad; it’s just that he valued things that weren’t important to us. I know that when I’m gone, the same thing will happen. Someone will come and clean out my place. There may or may not be anything that anyone wants to keep. If I’m in Enid, I suspect 98% of what I consider valuable will end up at one of the thrift stores. It’s all just “stuff.”
That pig right there represents the 98% of my stuff that will end up in the thrift store, but it holds value for me. What would I trade my stuff for? What would I not? Better question: Who would I trade my stuff for? Who would I not?
Our Gospel reading today is from Mark. (The image on the front of your bulletin depicts the same event, but from Matthew’s perspective. Mark says there was only one demoniac, but Matthew says there were two.) Jesus enters the lands of the Gentiles and encounters a man who lives in the tombs near the city. Upon seeing Jesus, the man cries out, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me.” What follows is the classic order of an exorcism. Jesus commands the demon to come out of the man, eventually gaining the demon’s name. The demon says its name is Legion. A legion in the Roman army consisted of 6,000 soldiers, so the man is possessed by many demons. Knowing that Jesus can cast them back into the abyss, they beg to be sent into a nearby herd of pigs. The demons had brought insanity and chaos to the man’s life, and they do the same to the pigs upon entering them. It drives them to madness, and they drown themselves.
The pigs might disagree, but this would appear to be a happy ending. The man is freed from his demons and asks to follow Jesus. However, the pig herders rushed to town to report what had happened. Upon hearing the news, the townspeople came out and essentially said the same thing to Jesus as the demon had, “What have you to do with us, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? We beg you, go away. We don’t want you here.”
Having witnessed such a miracle, why would the people not welcome Jesus? Why did they send Him away?
There are a number of fringe thoughts on this. Some say they recognized the divine in Jesus, and everyone knows you really don’t want your gods walking around among you. There’s no telling what they’ll do. Closely related to this is the fear of the supernatural. We fear what we don’t understand. Both of these fears are likely part of the answer; however, most people agree that they asked Jesus to leave because He had deprived them of their stuff.
Mark said it was a “large herd of swine,” and Jesus had just inflicted a huge economic blow through their deaths. Notice that when the townspeople arrived, they didn’t give thanks for the recovery of the demon-possessed man. They didn’t even mention him. No, it was their pigs, which impacted their stuff, that they were upset about. They showed more concern for material possessions than for the soul of a man.
In our lives, we place value on people just as we place value on stuff. Family, spouses, and children are—or should be—at the top of the list. Next come close friends, and, in some cases, friends of friends—I think church family falls into those two categories. Then we have people we don’t even know but feel connected to, such as public figures, celebrities, and the like. These are followed by acquaintances and fellow countrymen (which is naturally divided by our biases: race, religion, creed, etc.), and finally, everyone else. The way we respond to each of these individuals and groups reflects the value we place on them. A child who is sick with a fever will receive far more thought, consideration, compassion, and support than, say, the 279 people who were killed in the Air India crash or the 500K who have been killed in Russia’s war on Ukraine. Stalin summarized this by saying, “One death is a tragedy. A million is a statistic.” It comes down to the way we’re wired, mentally and emotionally.
From that list, who would I trade my stuff for? Who would I not? What part of my stuff is the soul of a loved one worth? What part of my stuff is the soul of someone on the other side of the world worth?
For someone we love, we’d likely give it all, but what about that person on the other side of the planet? You don’t know them. Maybe they’re Muslim or Hindu. They look very different from you—hair, skin color, clothes. What is the value of their soul?
St. John Chrysostom wrote, “I am not about to mourn over many cities, or whole nations, yet shall I mourn over a soul which is of equal value with many such nations, yea even more precious…. For it is not the overthrow of a city which I mourn, nor the captivity of wicked men, but the desolation of a sacred soul, the destruction and effacement of a Christ-bearing temple.” (Two Exhortations to Theodore After His Fall)
There are many ministries of the Church, but it is the salvation of souls that is our singular calling. So, I’m not going to chastise you over stuff, I don’t know that I’ve got 300,000 items, but I’ve got plenty. I’m not going to ask you to go on mission trips around the world, proclaiming the Good News. I’m not even going to ask you to give money to support the work of spreading the Gospel. Instead, I’m going to ask you to find one person, one soul, and do exactly what Jesus, in our Gospel reading, asks the demoniac to do: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”
Within Judaism, there is a saying from the Mishnah, “Whoever saves a single life is considered to have saved the whole world.” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5) Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, teaches us, “The one man, one woman, one child, are of infinite worth to God. … For the infinite worth of the one is the key to the Christian understanding of the many.” (The Christian Priest Today, 42)
“Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you,” for the one soul you speak to is of infinite worth to our God.
Let us pray: Heavenly Father, pour forth your Holy Spirit to inspire us. Stir in our souls the desire to renew our faith and deepen our relationship with your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, so that we might truly believe in and live the Good News. Open our hearts to hear the Gospel and grant us the confidence to proclaim the Good News to others. Pour out your Spirit, so that we might be strengthened to go forth and witness to the Gospel in our everyday lives through our words and actions. Amen.
The story is told of Franklin Roosevelt, who often endured long receiving lines at the White House. He complained that no one truly paid any attention to what was said. One day, during a reception, he decided to conduct an experiment. To each person who passed by and shook his hand, he murmured, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” The guests responded with phrases like, “Marvelous! Keep up the good work. We are proud of you. God bless you, sir.” It was not until the end of the line, while greeting the ambassador from Bolivia, that his words were actually heard. Nonplussed, the ambassador leaned over and whispered, “I’m sure she had it coming.”
A recent article stated that 96% of people believe they are good listeners. The article also stated, “The bad news is that there’s a massive disconnect between the confidence in our listening and our actual abilities.”
There are several reasons for this: we are more interested in what we will say than in listening to what the other person is actually saying; we drift off—tune out because we aren’t interested, or we are more interested in something else. Another article stated, “In the act of listening, the differential between thinking and speaking rates means that our brain works with hundreds of words in addition to those that we hear, assembling thoughts other than those spoken to us. To phrase it another way, we can listen and still have some spare time for thinking.” (Source)
Your brain works much faster than a person can speak, although I have known some individuals who can put the words out there at a remarkable pace. In between the spoken words, our brain processes not only what we hear but all sorts of other information. What does this mean? How do I respond? Can this person really be this thick? Did I remember to start the dishwasher? I wonder who just texted me? Oh, heck, I’m going to be late!
There are things we need to hear, but there is so much more information coming at us. “Scientists have measured the amount of data that enter the brain and found that an average person living today processes as much as 74 GB in information a day (that is as much as watching 16 movies), through TV, computers, cell phones, tablets, billboards, and many other gadgets. Every year, it’s about 5% more than the previous year. Only 500 years ago, 74 GB of information would be what a highly educated person consumed in a lifetime, through books and stories.” (Source) That was written in 2012, and if you were listening, you know that the amount of information increases by 5% a year. I’ll let you do the math as to how much information there is now, because I didn’t listen so good in math class, but it is a massive amount of information.
So, when you’re having a conversation with someone and they tell you the time and place of a particular event, and ten minutes later you can’t even remember who you were talking to, much less what the conversation was about… blame it on that 74 GB of information pouring into your head along with your own desire to speak and your general lack of attention.
“Jesus said to the disciples, ‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.’” And we all respond, “I’m sorry, JC, what was that?”
The Holy Spirit of God will guide us and speak to us what He hears from Jesus and the Father. Yet, in this noisy world, how easy do you think it will be to truly hear what God is saying to His people? Perhaps if He sent His words out in an email or text message, we might take the time to read them; however, His words are communicated to us far more softly. We must learn to listen, and what is spoken will not always be displayed in flashing neon messages.
You know, I went on vacation to Japan. It was a wonderful trip, but the language barrier is real. While in Osaka, I went to the Doguyasuji Arcade, a large outdoor covered mall filled with hundreds of small and large restaurants. It is also wall-to-wall people, mostly teenagers. At the time of day or the day I visited, I was very much in the minority, and I was surrounded by all these young, energetic Japanese teens, who were all speaking Japanese. In addition, all the signs were in Japanese, and even Google Maps was messing up and showing everything in Japanese, leaving this particular older Caucasian a bit lost. However, as I walked along, there was one thing I briefly heard—two people walking in the opposite direction speaking English. In the midst of that cacophony of noise, language, lights, signs, and information, I could isolate one soft voice that I could hear and understand.
When I lived in Montana, I had some friends who owned a small ranch that was located down in a narrow valley. They kept about seventy cattle, and the second quarter of each year was calving season. One year, they wanted to take a week away and asked if I would watch the ranch. No problem. I had done it before and enjoyed it. Only a few mommas hadn’t calved, and they weren’t expected to that week while I was on duty. To keep me company, other than the cows, there was Bear. Bear was a great big ol’ fluffy mixed-breed of a dog, and Bear never barked—never—unless he spotted a coyote.
One evening, it is about nine o’clock, I’m sitting inside watching TV. I start to hear a dog barking, but I live in town and am accustomed to hearing dogs bark. For probably fifteen minutes, I didn’t think much of it. Dogs are always barking, but then it clicked. I jumped up and ran, stopping only long enough to grab a shotgun on my way out the door. One of the mommas had calved, the coyotes had smelled it and came down into the valley, and Bear, who never barked, was raising a fuss. I was so accustomed to hearing barking dogs that I had almost become deaf to one when it really mattered.
One more story, also from adventures in Japan. Japan is an incredibly clean country. Truly. There is literally no garbage on the streets and no graffiti on the buildings. Shopkeepers are out every day, sweeping up leaves and any other debris. Cement trucks, eighteen-wheelers, and dump trucks—all of them, even though in use, look like they just drove off the showroom floor, spotless and shiny. Additionally, Japan is as safe as it is clean; the crime rate is almost non-existent.
I’m in Tokyo, and I’ve no idea where I am, but I’m safe and I’m exploring. I turn onto one street and then another. There are a lot fewer people. I see someone sitting on a curb, drinking from a bottle. That was very unusual. Next, for the only time I’m in Japan, someone approaches me and offers to sell me drugs. Wow, I think, this is so weird. I look down, and it strikes me, there’s garbage on the street. It is exceptionally rare and quite small, but I have managed to find the bad side of Tokyo. If I had been paying a little closer attention, I would have picked up on these subtle changes long before I ended up where I shouldn’t have been.
You know how a dog will cock its head when it’s listening, trying to understand and hear more clearly? That should be us as we practice listening to the Holy Spirit. Listening in this way implies a sense of bending or leaning our body or mind toward a source. Since the Holy Spirit isn’t providing God’s word to us through neon signs, we must learn to isolate the Spirit’s voice from the cacophony of voices that surrounds us, knowing that the Spirit’s voice is the voice of truth. We must not become so accustomed to listening to all the other voices and the incessant flow of information that we grow deaf to the voice of the Spirit, ignoring it when it truly matters. We must also open our eyes, paying attention to the subtle changes around us and acknowledging that these changes may very well be the Spirit’s voice warning us of potential dangers.
In these and many other ways, God speaks His truth to us, speaks His word to us, and guides and teaches us. We may get by with truly hearing only 50% of what other people may say to us, but we can ill afford to listen to only 50% of what God tells us.
When the Lord wanted to speak to the young Prophet Samuel, Eli the priest instructed the boy to say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” This must be our prayer as well: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening—listening in all the many ways You may speak to Your people—so that I may grow in Your ways, know Your truth, and follow where You lead.”
Let us pray: Come, Holy Spirit, Creator blest, and in our souls take up Thy rest; come with Thy grace and heavenly aid to fill the hearts which Thou hast made. O comforter, to Thee we cry, O heavenly gift of God Most High, O fount of life and fire of love, and sweet anointing from above. Amen.
Candle in a Cave 