The Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)
Dear
brothers and sisters,
We
very often live with some level of discomfort, with some level of anxiety or fear,
perhaps not all of the time, but often enough. When the Lord seems not to be
present, we grow frightened. When we lose our way we grow afraid. When we lose
a child or a parent or when we cannot find a way to pay the bills, our fear
intensifies. The beginning of school draws near and we worry whether our classmates
will be our friends or whether we will do well in our studies. We do not know
the direction in which our lives are going and we agonize. Sickness, pain, and
death come upon us and we find ourselves living with much uncertainty. In all
of these situations, Jesus lovingly and serenely commands us, “Take courage, it
is I; do not be afraid” (Matthew 14:27).
When
we find ourselves in any one of these situations – and perhaps even all of them
– our tendency is to cry out to the Lord and beg him to give us a sign. We
plead with him and bargain, if only he will show himself to us. We cry out with
St. Peter, “Lord, save me!” and wonder if he will come to our rescue (Matthew 14:30).
The
Lord promised to come to the prophet Elijah, the man of God, saying, “Go
outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by”
(I Kings 19:11). Elijah placed himself at the entrance to the cave in Mount
Horeb, the very mountain where God gave the Ten Commandments to Moses and where
the covenant was ratified and sealed in blood. Here, surely, the Lord would be
found and Elijah might find comfort as his enemies openly plotted his death. He
cried out, saying, “I have been most zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts,
but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, torn down your altars, and put
your prophets to the sword. I alone am left, and they seek to take my life” (IKings 19:10). Indeed, Elijah wished to be dead and cried, “This is enough, O LORD.
Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (I Kings 19:4). In his agony
and anguish, he sought the Lord in the places he had previously manifested
himself.
And
then, quite unexpectedly, Elijah realized the presence of God not where he had
previously shown himself, but in “a tiny whispering sound” (I Kings 19:12). Being
now in the presence of the Lord, he “hid his face in his cloak and stood at the
entrance of the cave” (I Kings 19:13). The original Hebrew of this text reads
somewhat differently than our translation today. Where we hear “a tiny
whispering sound,” but the original Hebrew says, “a sound that was no sound.” He
did not seek the Lord here, in the silence. He wanted the Lord to speak in a powerful
way, a commanding way, in the same manner he had always done. He heard the Word
of God say to him, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Elijah did not
hear the Lord amid the noise of this world and neither will we.
We
might well ask why the Lord speaks in the silence of our hearts and not often
in more impressive ways. To this question, Pope Francis reminds us that “silence
is always more eloquent than words.”[1] We
have largely forgotten this. The average American today spends some 1,642 hours
per year watching television alone.[2]
That comes down to four and a half hours per day. I say this not to completely
condemn the television, but to raise a question. If we spend eight hours per
day at work, eight hours per day asleep, and four and a half hours per day
watching television, that leaves only three and a half hours for eating, for spending
time with family and friends, for running errands, and for prayer. When do we
allow ourselves to be still so we can hear the voice of God? When do we allow
the sound that is no sound to be heard?
We
must remember again that, as Pope Benedict XVI reminded us, “creatures must be silent, leaving
space for the silence in which God can speak.”
This
is still true in our day too. At times there is a sort of fear of silence, of
recollection, of thinking of one's own actions, of the profound meaning of
one's life. All too often people prefer to live only the fleeting moment,
deceiving themselves that it will bring lasting happiness; they prefer to live
superficially, without thinking, because it seems easier; they are afraid to
seek the Truth or perhaps afraid that the Truth will find us, will take hold of
us and change our life, as happened to St Augustine.[3]
Saint Augustine came to realize that, as he
said, “although this ship is tossed by the storms of temptation, it sees the
glorified Lord walking upon all the billows of the sea – that is, upon all the
powers of this world.”[4]
Do not be afraid of silence, but learn to rest in it. In the silence of our
hearts, the Lord reveals our sins to us and calls us to conversion; this is why
we do not like silence. But if we listen to his voice will hear him calling us to
return to the confessional where we will hear him say to us, “Take courage, it is I; do not be
afraid;” it is within the forgiveness of sins that “he proclaims peace” (Psalm 85:9).
We
want God to come down and fix all of our problems. We want him to make us
popular, to take our tests for us, and write our papers; we want him to make us
wealthy and important; we want him to take away our sadness and pain and
sickness. But Jesus did not come for any of these reasons, contrary to what is
often heard today; he came to destroy sin and death. He came to show us the way
through pain, through suffering, through heartache, and struggle, and strife. He
came to show us the way out of lives of sin into lives of holiness, from death
to new and eternal life. It was on the cross that he showed us the way to
everlasting joy and peace.
If
we return for a moment to the Gospel, it is curious that the boat “was being
tossed about by the waves” already “when it was evening,” but that Jesus did
not come to the Apostles on the water until “the fourth watch of the night” (Matthew
19:24, 23, and 25). Jesus made his appearance toward the end of night, towards the
coming of the dawn. This is a significant and often overlooked aspect of this
passage after the storm raged for several hours. “He did not come quickly to
their rescue. He was training them … by the continuance of these fears and
instructing them to be ready to endure.” This, says Saint John Chrysostom, “is
the way he constantly deals with our fears.”[5]
When
we cry out, “Lord, save me!”, Jesus says, “Come,” and only after we begin to go
to him does he snatch us out of the waters (Matthew 14:29). Even as he assures
us with this comforting and powerful
word, he stretches out his hand toward us to catch us as we sink into the
waters of fear, into the waters of the unknown, into the waters of doubt. He
calls us to place our trust and faith in him, to follow him without reservation
or fear, even as he asks, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matthew14:31). “Did you not know that I am with you? Did you not know that I have
walked this road before you? Did you not know that I have destroyed sin and
death? You have nothing to fear.”
When
Jesus said these words to Peter the “wind died down” and the storm disappeared
(Matthew 14:32). Peter’s own fear subsided as he trusted in Jesus and climbed
into the boat, into the heart of the Church, to continue his voyage after his Master
and his Teacher. Let us, then, with Peter, place our faith and trust, and,
indeed, our very lives, into the gentle yet mighty hand of Christ, who saves us
from the waters of darkness and lifts us into his kingdom of light. Let us acknowledge
our weakness and cry out with Peter, “Lord, save me!” When we do so, “kindness
and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss. Truth shall spring out of
the earth, and justice shall look down from heaven” and we shall come to see
and know the Lord as he is (Psalm 85:11-12).
“Take
courage, it is I,” he says to us; “do not be afraid.” When we hear his voice calling
to us, “Come,” in the tiny whispering sound within the silence of our hearts, let
us go, without delay, and without fear, “for he proclaims peace” (Psalm 85:9).
Amen.
[1] Pope
Francis, Amoris laetitia, 12.
[2] Cf.
Philip Yancey, “The Death of Reading is Threatening the Soul,” The Washington Post, 21 July 2017.
[3] Pope
Benedict XVI, General Audience Address, 25 August 2010.
[4] Saint
Augustine of Hippo, Sermon 75.7. In Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture,
New Testament Vol. Ib: Matthew 14-28. Thomas C. Oden, et al, eds. (Downers Grove, Illinois: Inter Varsity Press, 2002),
13.
[5] Saint
John Chrysostom, The Gospel of Matthew,
Homily 50.1. In ibid.
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