Homilies

SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (B)        JANUARY 15, 2012

1. Has anyone ever asked you directly "Are you happy?" And what did you reply?    Ronald Rolheiser, spirituality writer, doesn't think it is a fair question to ask people. He wonders whether you could look up at Jesus on the cross and say, "Jesus are you happy?"

What he suggests is that we ask the question: "Do you find your life has meaning?" And that, maybe, is a reason for a deep joy and contentment.

2. Today's gospel is about meaning in on's life. We hear the very first words in the gospel of John attributed to Jesus- "What are you looking for?".  What are you looking for - what do you search - what would really give meaning to your life - what is your hunger? What is life-giving?  

Andrew and another unnamed disciple reply to Jesus with a question of their own, "Where are you staying?"  In the gospel of John, this very word, "to stay" carries with it  deeper meanings - WHere do you abide? Where is your center? Where do you base your life? Where do you place your hopes?

And Jesus doesn't give them an answer. He simply says, "Come, and you will see."

I don't think it is unusual to answer such a direct question as "What are you looking for?" with some squeamish avoidance of making definite what perhaps is not so clear to ourselves.

When I start asking myself the big questions, I am not so sure I either know what I really want nor am I ready for some answer that will wrap these things up neatly. I know I want something, and want something more but it is often unclear.

When I look at our cosmos, for instance, in the dramatic photographs from the Hubble telescope, I am rather overwhelmed. Trillions of miles of space; unendless beauty; the deep time of billions of years.

And then I consider my own life is about one-millionth of a second in the twenty-four hour image of the universe.

What does that mean? What does my life mean?

Life is full of passing moments, hints of something that is more, that is deeper, that draws and attracts me. Time spent with someone who loves me. My family. My community. A good book. The thrill of winning a football game or a game of chess. The majesty of mountains, and seas. The fascination of the animal and plant world. A Bach Cantata or a Beethoven Symphony.

But also the pain and suffering that comes from love, disappointment, failure, separation, from my own guilt and shame.

All of this churns through me. I am made for something more. I desire, yearn for, look for something that these passing moments promise.

We are told that, underneath all of our desires and hopes, is an openness to the transcendent, the divine, to fullness of life and love. We call this God but, I am afraid, so many images we have of God are so small and banal that they hardly excite us or seem to answer our deepest desires. And we fear that giving ourselves to God means losing all that we love here and now.

It is the mystics, those men and women who have experienced God in the very ordinary, here and now, that point us to the meaning of their lives. Doctrines, rules and words alone will not do it. But mystics have seen the transparency of all and have experienced what is beyond. They live with paradox, with mystery with a non-dualistic and non-judgmental view on reality. They have seen with their heart as well as their head, with their whole being. "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless till they rest in you."  Their hearts burn with longing for the living God. They long to see the face of God. But finding God, they are in even deeper love with people, with life, with all that the earth gives us.  

3. The story of Samuel in our first reading is helpful too. Samuel is open to the mystery of life but is young and inexperienced. God speaks to him, calls him by name, "Come and see", but Samuel does not recognize the voice. The writer says, "Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord".

Samuel needs a mentor, the Priest Eli, to direct him to open his mind and heart, "Speak, Lord, your servant listens".

Now, everyone needs an Eli. To find out what we are really looking for, to answer the summons to come and see, we need someone, someone to help us on our journey. A soul-friend, a mentor, a guide. Some of us are called to be an Eli for others.

We won't hear God calling us in some force of apparition. No, God speaks to us through our lives, through our relationships, through the events which we experience. We just miss the connection. Some conversion experience is needed to stir up our hearts, our desires, our yearnings, so we can hear where the Lord stays, where he is attracting us.

4. So what are you looking for? Or do you even know you are looking?  Our lives are rich, are full. There is always so much more to learn, so much to love. We needn't be afraid to follow our quests. There is meaning to it all. We are part of a great adventure. "No eye has seen nor ear heard nor has it even entered into the heart of a human being what God prepares for those who love him."

In this Eucharist we are called into communion with Christ, our head, and with his body, our brothers and sisters. Here, in the Eucharist, God calls us, as he did Samuel, by our name. We listen and say, Speak God, your servant listens. And we follow, we come and see where Christ resides and stays - in this assembly, on this altar, in bread and wine, in all the relationships and events of our lives. May we respond, in faith, "Here I am Lord. Your servant listens. I come to do your will."

Timothy J. Joyce, OSB