On August 1, the Social Action Summer Institute opened with liturgy celebrated by Bishop Patrick J. McGrath at the Mission Church at Santa Clara University. In case you missed it, check out his homily below (originally posted at the Diocese of San Jose’s website).
Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23 | Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11 | Luke 12:13-21
For those of us who work tirelessly for “peace and justice” in a world so often consumed by greed, these readings, are in a sense, “preaching to the choir.” We see all too well the futility of our consumerist culture where the gospel proclaimed is of “individual prosperity” rather than care for the “common good” and whose greatest commandment is “Look out for yourself” instead of “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Yet all of us, I think, are sometimes a little like the rich man in today’s Gospel. At some point in our lives, we are afraid of losing something—whether it’s something we worked hard for or, like an especially good harvest or something unearned, like a family inheritance.
When I was appointed Auxiliary Bishop in San Francisco I was the Pastor of St. Mary’s Cathedral. The Cathedral Parish was made up of about Six Hundred PEOPLE, not Families, but they were my people. I told Archbishop Quinn that I was afraid of loosing my “ family”. He said “Oh P.J. you will have the whole Diocese”. Yes and No. I still miss them 21 years later.
In our daily interactions as people attuned to the needs of others, we have witnessed this “fear of loss” in very sobering ways: we see it in the eyes of struggling families about to lose homes to foreclosure; in the homeless man afraid to lose his place in line for a bed at the shelter; in the single mother who lost her job and her children’s health insurance; in the friend losing his battle with cancer. As recently happened to me.
In our own ministries, we, too, have our fears. Will we lose funding? Will our programs be eliminated? Will there be enough volunteers? Can I get enough petitions? Will I have enough energy? Will I lose my faith “in the goodness” of people? Will I lose heart in the work I do?
There is so much work to do and so much at stake, and there never seems to be enough to go around.
Yet our very presence here proclaims that this “myth” of scarcity is a lie. Your presence here at this conference professes that God’s imagination is always more than enough. From the beginning, God’s imagination created everything, blessing it abundantly and calling it good—very good in fact. Out of God’s imagination, we were created—in God’s image—not to be fearful but to stand in wonder and awe of God’s irrational, overflowing, almost embarrassing love for humankind.
Your effort to be with one another here, in support, encouragement, learning, and conversation about the “ways of peace” reminds all of us that God called us, from the beginning, to be in right relationship—with our Creator, with creation, with ourselves, and with each other.
When we allow the fear of scarcity to obscure the original grace of God’s abundance, (present from the beginning of time), we grab and we hoard. We seize control in an attempt to secure our own outcome. The sin of the rich man was not that he was rich but that he was in relationship only with himself—speaking only to himself, planning for only himself, keeping the blessings he received only for himself.
When we are afraid that there will not be enough, we disconnect ourselves from God who gives us everything we have, from each other for whom we are called to share the gifts given to us, and even from ourselves. For when we are afraid, we are not our true selves; we are not the image of the God in whose image we were created. The fearful “old self” is what died at our baptism, and the new creation, free from anxiety, joyful in God’s abundance is what we are now.
Every Sunday is a sabbath-time when we recall who we truly are. It is a time when we let go of anxiety and acknowledge that we are not in control (for only those who truly believe in God’s abundance would take a day off from work). Every Sunday is a time when we let go of our fear and we taste and see God’s utter goodness. Here we offer back to God what is only on loan to us: the fruit of our labor and the gift of our lives. Here we feast on the Body and Blood of Christ, given to us without cost, without fear of not having enough or not being good enough. Here, in this Eucharist, the wood of the Cross becomes the “bridge of peace” between those who once were enemies, wood transformed into the altar of God’s overflowing abundance.
Here, we reject the anxiety which leads to futile toil and embrace again the “dignity of labor” and the privilege of being co-creators with God. Here, we confront the fear which leads to greed and recommit ourselves to being a “living parable” of God’s abundance in these times of scarcity. Here we refuse to continue the lie that there is not enough and we feast on the manna from heaven, given freely, given daily, and given that we may share it with all.
May we strive always to be rich in what matters to God.
