Like Fr. Mulcahy

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Whenever I ask my parents what they want for their birthday or Christmas, they usually say they don’t need anything.  There may be a few things that they might pick-up for themselves, but they’re usually not that communicative about what those things are.  And the things that I usually think of that they probably would enjoy, are a bit out of my price range for gifts. 

As we begin our five-week trek through John chapter 6 today, we start with Jesus feeding the 5,000 plus.  We heard a similar story in our first reading from the Second Book of Kings with the Prophet Elisha.  Elisha has twenty barley loaves for 100 people, and Jesus has five loaves and two fish for over 5,000 people.  When Philip says that they don’t have enough, Andrew replies that they only have a little, and certainly not enough for everyone.  But Jesus takes that little, and miraculously multiplies it so that everyone has enough, and, in fact, there are twelve wicker baskets left over.  God provides for His people, even when all they have is just a little gift.

I’m a pretty big fan of the TV show “M*A*S*H.”  And, as you might imagine, I identify a bit with Fr. Mulcahy.  But it goes beyond the fact that he’s a priest chaplain in the show, and I’m a priest and chaplain in real life.  Fr. Mulcahy is a little naïve, doesn’t get the big crowds for Sunday services, and doesn’t have much that is spectacular about him.  In one of the episodes, he has to compete against a great runner for a competition between two different units.  And even though the other runner is far superior, Fr. Mulcahy does not back down and runs his best race anyway.  I won’t spoil the episode for you by telling you what happens, in case you want to watch it.

I’m a bit like Fr. Mulcahy.  I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life.  People don’t generally look at me with the word “spectacular” on their mind (in fact, one of my great disappointments in life is how little time I have spent and spend on my own physical fitness).  I’ve got no great talents (one of my classmates has a special charism of healing).  I enjoy learning but I’m not a great student or teacher (one of my other classmates learns foreign languages with ease and has his doctorate).  I work hard at preaching, but I’m no Bishop Barron or Fulton Sheen, let alone St. John Chrysostom.  I’m just Fr. Anthony Strouse, with a few small talents from a small town, doing his best to lead people to God and run a parish.

But, like Fr. Mulcahy in “M*A*S*H,” I can honestly say that I try to give what little I have to God, and He uses them to bring about some good.  I know it’s God, because it’s far beyond what I could have ever done on my own.  God takes this pipsqueak of a man, with an average amount of small talents, and does great things, just like He did almost 2,000 years ago when He fed all those people.  There’s nothing spectacular about five loaves and two fish.  But God made it more than enough through Jesus.  

Maybe some of you are the brightest in your field, or the richest, or the strongest, or the most socially connected.  Praise God for those things and use them for His glory.  But if you’re like me, and don’t have much to offer the Lord, I would invite you today to give it to Him anyway.  How? you say.  Well, as you might have noticed in my three years here, I’m big on the liturgy, and celebrating it well.  And part of celebrating that well is for all the people at Mass to give Jesus everything, even the smallest thing, that has happened since you last came to Mass.  Just give it to Jesus.  Tell him about it in your prayer before Mass begins.  Visualize putting whatever it is you have with the bread and the wine that are brought forward.  And as you listen in silence to the Eucharistic Prayer I say, see the angels taking those small things and big things to God the Father in heaven, through Jesus Christ His Son, in the power of the Holy Spirit.  And then God will do something great with it.  I don’t know what it will be, but when we give our best gifts to God, no matter how small they are, He always receives them as the best gift from His children, and transforms us and the world by it.  

Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe letting the liturgy transform us by offering ourselves to God the Father through Christ the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit won’t have a huge effect.  Maybe its just a cockamamie belief of mine that I picked up through years of study.  But I don’t think I am wrong on this.  And I think the Mass can transform us if we truly offer ourselves with the bread and the wine.  Now, it hasn’t made me a strong stud, I still don’t have the gifts that many of my brother priests do, and I’m certainly not a saint yet.  But I know it’s helping to change me, for the better, and helping me become the saint that God wants me to be.  

So maybe try it out yourselves, if you’re not already.  In these moments of silence after the homily, think of what you want to give God, no matter how insignificant you think it might be.  After all, if God can feed 5,000 plus with five loaves and two fish, imagine what He could do with you!