Mass was quite a bit smaller than usual in Chasm Falls today (about 40 people), since we all had to be cleared through a State Police checkpoint before getting to the church...but as of last evening, we weren't sure if we'd be able to have Mass at all. (I understand that the Troopers were asking folks, "What's your pastor's name?" to make sure they were legit.) Such crazy times! Pray for all those in law enforcement working on this case. Pray for those in our community isolated by the security measures. Pray for a safe and swift resolution.
I brought that gospel insight back with me from the island,
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time B
when—of
course—they find a magic lamp
with a genie inside.
with a genie inside.
The
genie looks at the men and says,
“I
normally grant three wishes,
but
since there are three of you,
this time I’ll grant you each one.”
this time I’ll grant you each one.”
The
first guy,
sick and tired of being on the island,
sick and tired of being on the island,
jumps
forward and says,
“I wish I could go right back home!”
“I wish I could go right back home!”
And,
poof! He disappears.
The
second man says, “I wish that, too!”
And,
poof! He disappears.
The
genie turns to the last guy
and asks for his wish.
and asks for his wish.
“Gee,”
he says. “It’s kind of lonely now.
I
sure wish my friends were still here…”
I
spent Wednesday night on an island.
Most
of you know I love the outdoors,
and like to camp.
and like to camp.
Given
recent events,
camping
out on an island
in the middle of Lower Saranac Lake
in the middle of Lower Saranac Lake
seemed
a good bit safer than staying
in
the woods on the mainland anywhere nearby—
and
it’s something I’d been wanting to do anyway.
It
was great!
With
just one campsite,
I had the entire island to myself.
I had the entire island to myself.
Such
peace and calm!
Such beauty and freedom!
Such beauty and freedom!
It
was while on the island
that
I started to reflect on this Sunday’s gospel.
St.
Mark presents us with the stories of two women.
One has been sick as long as the other has been alive.
Though
they probably never met,
their
stories are tightly intertwined.
In
both cases, we see Jesus reaching out
very
personally and tenderly to each of them.
There’s
a rather moving intimacy in the way
Jesus
responds to their need and their faith and heals them.
And
yet there’s a wide cast of other characters also involved:
a
large, pressing crowd;
Jesus’
own close-following disciples;
desperately
worried parents;
loudly
grieving relatives, friends, and neighbors.
It
struck me:
while
Jesus is present individually to those who seek his care,
his
encounters with them are not private—
even
if only a small circle of others are in the room.
These
two women are part of a much wider network of souls,
and
what happens to or for them—whether for good or for ill—
has
a vital impact on so many, many others,
even
if it’s not immediately recognized.
I brought that gospel insight back with me from the island,
and
it strikes me how it relates
with
some big things in the news these days.
Of
course, we’ve all had a keen interest these past few weeks
in
the manhunt for two escaped murderers from Dannemora.
When
it became clear they were likely in this immediate area,
a
funny thing occurred to me:
I
was now their pastor.
In
the Catholic understanding of things,
a
parish priest is assigned to look after
not
only those registered in his parish,
nor
just even all the Catholics who live close to the church,
but
is to have concern for the spiritual welfare
of every
person within his jurisdiction.
As
long as they’re hiding in these woods—I thought—
I
bear a certain responsibility for their souls!
Of
course, it wasn’t prudent for me
to go
sit among the trees around Mountain View,
hoping
they might stop by looking for confession…
But
the impact, for me, of these fugitives
moved
beyond the inconvenience of roadblocks
or
even fears for safety.
In
ways only clear to God, there is a deeper connection.
And
when I first heard Friday afternoon
that
Richard Matt had been shot and killed,
I
immediately prayed for him:
that
God would have mercy on his soul.
It
just seemed like it was what his pastor ought to do.
There
was other big news Friday—
news
that can seem a whole lot more distant from us—
and
that news was the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision
which
effectively legalized same-sex marriage throughout the country.
I’ve
never read a Supreme Court decision before,
but
I read this one.
Let
me just say: it’s long!
Nonetheless,
I suggest giving it a look yourself
instead
of simply accepting everything
so
many supposed experts are saying about it.
The
majority opinion contained no surprises:
arguments
we’ve all heard before,
which
seem to me far better suited to the court of public opinion
than
they do to such an esteemed court of law.
What’s
striking is in the dissent:
the
four dissenting justices each wrote their own opinions,
which—I
understand—is highly unusual.
If
you’ve got time for nothing else,
take
a look at those of Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Alito.
Their
arguments are so lucid, reasonable, and sane,
it’s
hard to imagine how they did not prevail.
What’s
troubling are the predictions they make—
predictions
of the effect this ruling will have on America:
on the
law and our relationship to it; on the role of the court;
on
the fabric of our society; on children and family life.
They
echo many things our Catholic Bishop’s
have
long been saying in anticipation of this decision,
just
without making direct reference to God.
And
the insights of these four justices
all
reflect the real, if sometimes hidden, interconnectedness
Sure,
it sounds fair enough to say that this issue
is
all about sacred rights to liberty, privacy, and due process.
“Live
and let live!
What
should the government or the Church care
about
the goings on in people’s bedrooms?”
But
none of us live in perfect isolation.
None
of our acts are completely private.
And
that’s most especially true for those of us
who
are members of the one Body of Christ!
Yes,
we come to know Christ as individual believers.
Our
faith must be personal—we must own it for ourselves.
But
it’s never my private preserve—
never
just about “me and Jesus.”
Like
the two women in the gospel,
we
are all intimately connected through, with, and in Christ,
even
if we never actually meet one another.
What
a single one does or decides,
what
happens to any individual—good or evil—
has
a real impact on us all.
A
bit like my opening joke,
it’s
more than a little ironic, really,
that
while alone on an island I was so compellingly reminded
that,
in fact, “no man is an island,” as the poet once wrote.
A
brief time alone helped me realize anew
how
closely linked we all are.
A
few hours of quiet prepared me well
to
process the news repeated at high volume.
Often
times—
as
it was with the hemorrhaging woman and the daughter of Jairus—
we
must tune out the noise of the surrounding crowd
in order to hear the healing voice of Jesus.
in order to hear the healing voice of Jesus.
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