Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
Of course, as a kid, you’re always making sure you’re standing up nice and strait, trying to get every extra centimeter that you can. And, if you measure yourself too closely in time, you’re not going to see much, if any difference in your height. It may appear that you’re not growing at all!
In our Gospel today we hear about a man who didn’t have to see to believe. He first approaches the Lord for the healing of his son, and our Lord somewhat rebuffs his request: unless you see signs, you will not believe. Already, the Savior is noting that the people won’t believe unless He does something spectacular. Still, the man has faith, and begs our Lord to do something, otherwise his son will die. Christ assures him that his son will live, though the man cannot see the proof of his faith until he returns home, and his son is fine. In fact, the son is healed at the moment that our Lord had said to the man that his son would be healed. That sign (the term the Evangelist John uses for miracles) then leads others to believe.
Still, think about the man walking back to his home. We don’t know how far it was, but the walk must have taken at least a day, as the man inquires when the healing happened, and at which hour it took place. The answer was that it took place a day earlier. From what we can tell in the Gospel, the man never doubted that what our Lord said would happen would, in fact, happen. Walking home, perhaps we would wonder if our faith would really be rewarded, if this Jesus was truly able to do something, especially so far away. Would we doubt? Would we lower our expectations so that we wouldn’t be disappointed? None of these things the man seems to do.
When it comes to our faith and our trust in the Lord, are we like the man who has faith? Or are we like the crowds that need to see signs before we believe? Do we have confidence when God says something will happen, even if we do not immediately see the results?
In some ways, we can be like kids who want to measure faith every day like we measure our height. And, like our height, we may not see very noticeable results. We pray for trust in God, we pray to be open to His will, but each day we don’t seem to make much progress. Or maybe it’s working on a particular virtue, or eliminating a particular vice. We ask God to strengthen us to choose the good, or support us in times of temptation so that we don’t fall, but we see no real movement. Are we willing to be patient, not only with God, but also with ourselves, in growth in holiness?
I do not consider myself a millennial; nor do I see myself as part of generation X. I’m the micro-, in-between generation that some call xenials (with an x). I know life before everyone had a cell-phone; I’m comfortable with cassette tapes and VHS. We couldn’t simply pause TV if we had to go the bathroom; you had to rush to the bathroom and hope you finished your business by the time the commercials were ending. But I have, like many millennials and later generations, gotten used to getting what I want immediately, thanks to the Internet and having a phone with me almost all the time. And so patience is not always my strong suit. I do work at patience, and I ask God to help me, but day-by-day, I didn’t seem to make any progress.
One day, a few years ago, I flew to Australia, to visit a priest friend of mine in Sydney. My flight left in early November. The day my flight left was the day in 2019 when we got pounded with 8 or so inches of snow. I arrived at Bishop airport in Flint, and my flight was delayed. I waited all day in the airport, only to find out that the flight was cancelled, and I would lose a day of my vacation, as United tried to rebook a whole plane of customers who had to go to Chicago, and then continue their travels. Normally I would have been upset and frustrated. I would not have normally been calm and collected when talking to the gate agents. But, for whatever reason, I was patient. And that virtue that I had been working on, I noticed that I was better, after all those years of praying for more patience. God had answered my prayers, but I had to trust in His timing, and the work that had to be done in my soul before I would be open to that virtue.
Can we trust God, even when we don’t see miracles, even when we don’t see the work that He is doing? God’s work is so often invisible, and so our cooperation in that work is also an act of faith. We do have to go out on a limb to have confidence that God will change us, He will perfect us, as and if we allow Him to do so. We may not see much progress day-by-day, but after a year or more, I’m willing to bet that we will notice that we are different, that we have grown in virtue. Be like the man in today’s Gospel: no matter how long the walk takes to see the fruit of your faith, do not doubt God, but have confidence that, if we but trust in God to transform our lives, He will not disappoint us. He will, in fact, outdo our expectations: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
