Sept. 2, 2012: 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time B
If I asked you what was your most memorable hurricane, which would it be? The most memorable for me in terms of how I tried to be useful in the cleanup of the aftermath was Gustav in 2008. I was just ordained and assigned as associate pastor for Fr. Gerald Burns at St. Aloysius. The morning after Gustav left Baton Rouge, there was immense silence in the whole neighborhood, except for the humming of the gas generators. By 9 o’clock in the morning, everyone in the neighborhood was out with their loud blowers cleaning up debris. I wanted to be useful, so I too grabbed a blower out of storage, plugged in the extension cord, and pointed the blower on a large pile of twigs and leaves on our driveway. I pushed the button, and nothing happened. Is this thing broken, I asked myself. I unplugged it from the wall and plugged it to another outlet. Still nothing. I unplugged it again and plugged it in on the other side of the building, and still nothing happened. Fr. Burns said, looking at me with a puzzled frown, "Paul, what are you doing?" Then, my engineering common sense came back--the power was out in the whole neighborhood! (And I used to be an engineer helping to run a big chemical plant!)
This memory came to mind as we began preparing for Hurricane Isaac...buying bottled water and batteries, filling gas cans for generators, and preparing food for “evacuees”. By the way, how many of you bought comfort food for this hurricane? I’m talking about chocolate, chips & dips, candy, honey-buns, and Little Debbie snacks. It’s amazing to me that in South Louisiana we even have “rituals” for preparing for, surviving, and cleaning up after hurricanes. These rituals help ease the fear and anxiety of the unknown forces of nature looming ‘out there’ in the Gulf.
We also have rituals that help us pray. For me, I like to be in my rocking chair, with my eyes closed, and with my fingers going over the beads of rosary. Somehow, like a little child who has to have snuggle time with his mommy in the morning, this ritual of rocking in the chair with a rosary has a way of recharging my spiritual hunger. Many of us, likewise, are faithful to our ritual prayers, for they give us strength and energy for the day. Our Lord reminds us in the Gospel today, though, that our rituals and ritual prayers must change our hearts. Jesus quotes Prophet Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” St. James elaborates what Jesus says here: “Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this:
to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”
If you were to ask me which hurricane was the most memorable in terms of what it brought out in people, my response would be Katrina. That hurricane not only ripped open houses, but it opened wide the hearts of people. How many of us opened our homes to relatives, friends, and even strangers for weeks at a time? It stretched our hospitality, our convenience, our gentleness, and our patience. During that hurricane, and continuing for months later, many reached out to those who were sick, lonely, homeless, abused, imprisoned, and forgotten. We were touched by the generosity of neighbors and strangers and were witnesses to a truth in action: when we reach out to others with love and compassion, without judging, we are reaching out to Jesus who lives within each of us.
On one hand, events like a hurricane can make us fearful people. As fearful people we are inclined to develop a mind-set that makes us say: "There's not enough food for everyone, so I better be sure I save enough for myself in case of emergency," or "There's not enough knowledge for everyone to enjoy; so I'd better keep my knowledge to myself, so no one else will use it" or "There's not enough love to give to everybody, so I'd better keep my friends for myself to prevent others from taking them away from me." This is a scarcity mentality. It involves hoarding whatever we have, fearful that we won't have enough to survive. The tragedy, however, is that what you cling to ends up rotting in your hands. But when we unfold our hands like how Jesus unfolded his hands on the Cross, love pours out even when we think there is none to give. Therefore, St. James reminds us that, “All good giving and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father...Humbly welcome the word that has been planted in you and is able to save your souls. Be doers of the word and not hearers only.”
