You Look At Me

 Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

    One of my many memories from college seminary was being able to watch “The Return of the King,” the last movie of the trilogy, “The Lord of the Rings,” on opening night.  I had read the books by J.R.R. Tolkien, and was excited to see the video representation of what I had read.  Years later, I found the same joy watching Peter Jackson’s version of “The Hobbit,” the prequel to “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy, which, unlike the book which is one volume, was released in three parts.
    One powerful scene from the third movie, “The Battle of the Five Armies” is when Bard, a peasant from Lake Town, is trying to defeat Smaug, the dragon who is spewing fire on the wooden town built upon the lake.  Bard has one arrow left, and his son, Bain, has come to help his dad fire the arrow.  Bard has to rest the arrow on his son’s shoulder, because the wind lance (a stationary bow for firing large javelin-like arrows) had broken.  Then Smaug the dragon taunts Bard and his son.  Smaug says, “What will you do now, bowman?  You are forsaken; no help will come!  […] Is that your child?  You cannot save him from the fire!  He. Will. Burn!”  Meanwhile, Bard says, “Stay still, son.  Stay still.” as Bard puts the arrow on his shoulder and starts to aim.  Smaug then taunts Bard again, “Tell me, wretch, how now shall you challenge me?  You have nothing left but your death!”  Bard’s son, Bain, is scared at the dragon’s voice, and starts to look back toward the dragon, but Bard says to him, “Bain.  Look at me.  You look at me.”
    As I read this Gospel earlier this week, that exchange between Bard and his son, Bain, came to my mind.  It is only when Peter takes his eyes off Jesus, perusing the strength and danger of the wind and the waves, that he starts to sink.  If Peter would have only kept his eyes on Jesus, Peter would have been fine.  
    And the same is true for us: if we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, like the myriad men and women saints who have gone before us of all races and states of life, we have nothing to fear; we can walk on water.  If our attention oscillates to the cares and tribulations of the world, we start to sink, maybe not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.
    This whole COVID deal has been a tempest of a storm for our State and our nation since March.  Schools closed, and some, like ours, whether directly tied to COVID or not, will not reopen this fall.  Families have unexpectedly lost loved ones.  Parents who work in hospitals have spent long hours, and even days, separated from children, as, especially in the early days, we didn’t want doctors and nurses to spread the virus to the other members of the family and had them quarantine.  Even now, I know people who have been shut up in their room for over a week because they tested positive for COVID, even while the other members of their family or their roommates did not, and so cannot visit them.  Many people have lost their jobs, temporarily or permanently, and, like schools, some businesses will not be able to reopen.  And I won’t even get into the politics of the pandemic.  It’s hard not to focus on all those things, and more.  But if we do, we’ll sink.  If we focus on all the negatives, we can easily fall into a depression, or start to doubt God’s love for us, or give in to our favorite sins that promise us comfort without really giving it to us.  
    Instead, we are called to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.  It is as if Jesus is telling us, “Look at me.  You look at me.”  He knows the dragon is around us, and that there is destruction, but He is about to slay the firedrake, and His aim is perfect.  The dragon will certainly perish.  But will we go down with the dragon, or will we stay connected to Jesus?
    I don’t know what things are going to look like in September, December, or a year from now.  I don’t have a special gift of foresight that will allow me to tell you what changes are still in store for us, both the changes the come from our continuing fight of COVID and just the daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly changes that happen due to the regular cycles of life.  But I can say that, if we stay connected to Jesus, if we keep our eyes fixed on Him, we have nothing to fear, and we won’t succumb to the trials, but will conquer them.  
    I don’t know about you, but when I think about all the junk (or, to quote Bishop Mengeling, puke) that has happened in 2020, it does not put me in a good emotional or spiritual place.  Life seems dreary and a drudge, and doesn’t seem much worth it.  So why do we keep focusing on those things that are past, those things that have been bad, when we can’t do a thing about it?  Why do we fixate on things we missed or are still missing?  All that does is drain our batteries and sap our strength.  Instead of focusing on those things, read a consoling Bible passage, pray to Jesus or through the intercession of the saints, or make a visit to church.  
    Instead, focus on Jesus.  Keep your eyes trained on Him.  Don’t pay attention to the waves and the wind, because they just make you sink.  Gaze, instead, on Jesus, who lifts you from the cares of the storm, and keeps you safe in the harbor of his love.  Jesus calls us by name: “Look at me.  You look at me.”

God Chooses Hobbits

Fourth Sunday of Advent

            I have now seen “The Hobbit” two times since it’s release on Friday.  While there have been a number of criticisms, I found myself enjoying the movie and its presentation of the classic book by J.R.R. Tolkien.  Certainly some license was taken; that always happens with movies.

            At one point, as the dwarves are discussing the drawbacks to having a burglar who has never burgled before, Gandalf mentions that Smaug, the evil dragon, will not recognize the smell of a Hobbit like he will of a dwarf.  Plus, Gandalf mentions, the Hobbit is small and will not attract much attention. 

            Now, it’s no secret that Tolkien was a Catholic.  He was a very devout Catholic.  And he permeated his writing with a Catholic worldview and Catholic theology.  I don’t know if he meant to compare Gandalf with God (in fact, I think scholars relate the wizards more to archangels), but we see in our readings today that God also uses the small to accomplish his work, those who will not attract much attention.

            Our first reading mentions the smallness of the city of Bethlehem of the Tribe of Judah.  It is too small to “be among the clans of Judah,” and yet “from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel; whose origin is from of old, from ancient times.”  God doesn’t choose the large city of Jerusalem to bring forth the Messiah, but the little town of Bethlehem.

            And in choosing Mary to be the Mother of God, it is not a famous personage, or a grand queen in the secular sense, but a quiet, humble maiden in a small, quiet town.  And in the Gospel passage today where we hear about the Visitation of the Blessed Mother to her cousin Elizabeth, it is two, small people, not noticed by the world, who recognize the coming, the Advent, of the Messiah.  In fact, even the littlest one, St. John the Baptist in the womb of his mother, leaps for joy in the presence of the God whom John will later point out as the Lamb of God.

            How much does our society tell us that we shouldn’t be small and unnoticed.  We have TV shows whose aim it is to take people from being unknown to being stars of music.  YouTube is full of people, including, sadly, children, who do stupid stuff just to get their 15 minutes of fame.  So many of us desire to be “big time.”  We want to be famous and well known.  The more Facebook friends or followers on Twitter we have, the better.

            In the midst of this, God doesn’t say that it’s wrong to be well known.  But He wants to make us well known, rather than us try to slingshot our way into notoriety.  Bethlehem wasn’t waging a campaign like, “Who Wants to be the City of the Messiah.”  Mary did not try to posture so that she could be the one that God chose as the Mother of the Messiah.  It was all about simply doing the will of God, and letting God make them known.

            In fact, Mary knows that she will be very well known.  After this passage, she prays the words that the Church has echoed down throughout the ages: “From this day all generations will call me blessed.”  But why will Mary be blessed?  Because “the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is His Name.”  God is the agent of Mary’s blessing and notoriety.  And the same has happened with so many of the saints.

            Look at our first pope, St. Peter: I’m quite sure that, sitting in his boat on the Sea of Galilee, he wasn’t dreaming of leading the disciples of the Messiah and being the one to speak for Christ in a unique way.  Or St. Augustine of Hippo in the 5^th Century: as a believer in two powers, one of good, one of evil, in his youth, the last thing he had on his mind was being one of the most prolific theologians the Catholic Church has ever seen.  Or St. Thomas Aquinas: in writing his Summary of Theology for beginners, his Summa Theologiae, he probably never dreamed that a later pope would require his teaching to be part of the curriculum in Catholic seminaries.  Or St. Kateri Tekakwitha: as she was exiled from her New York village of Native Americans because she had embraced the Catholic faith, she probably never dreamed that centuries later she would be added to the list of saints who called America their home.  Or Bl. Teresa of Calcutta: I’m sure that as she was picking up dying people with rotting bodies in India she did not anticipate the fame she would have while still alive, let alone after her death.  Or even those still working on being saints, like Pope Benedict XVI, or Timothy Cardinal Dolan or Francis Cardinal George: in the small towns in which they grew up, I’m willing to bet that none of them dreamed of having the large responsibility in governing the Church that God has given them today. 

            It is not for us to work on being famous, or being well known.  We are called to be faithful to God and serve Him by serving His People with the gifts and talents that God has given to us.  If we do that, then we will be known by the only Persons who really matter: the Persons of the Blessed Trinity.  And if God recognizes us because we have configured our life to the image of His Son, then we will join the ranks of the truly famous, the lives truly worth celebrating, the lives of the saints.