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A few weeks ago, I was scrolling through my phone and stopped at three news clips back-to-back. Three different people, all speaking with total confidence, all claiming to tell the truth, and all saying things that flatly contradicted what the next person had just said.
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“Do you always listen?” “Oh, listening is a bit of a problem,” they admitted. We hear the voice, but we do not always listen. Why? Because we get distracted. There are lots of things we are doing, and we want to do what we want to do,
and maybe not obey. That is the exact same challenge with God.
I know that many of you, over the years, have told me how sad you are that your children and grandchildren do not come to church. It is hard, because you wonder what you have done that has led them away, or not to stay. It is hard, because you struggle. You want them to have what you have. But I want to say to you: you have not failed. You have been faithful.
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This last week I read an article about a tribe called the San tribe in southern Africa. They are believed to be the oldest continuous culture of human beings in the history of humanity, some 40,000 to 50,000 years old as a tribe. What is fascinating about this tribe is that it has no kings, no armies, no crowns, not even an official leadership in any way.
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I was talking with a colleague this week, and she said, “God, where has the year gone? It is Easter already, has Lent already passed?” I said, yeah, it has. I sympathize. Lent seemed to go faster than any forty days recently. We never seem to ever get a chance to slow down.
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They had carried a grudge so long that they had forgotten. It had become like furniture in their house. It was just part of their lives.
One leaned into the other and said, "You know, I am sorry. I was wrong." And the other calmly said, "Yeah, I know. And so was I."
What struck me was not the precision of the words. It was what happened afterwards. The light in their faces. Their faces changed,
both of them, simultaneously.
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One of the great gifts we have as priests is to visit people in their homes and in their areas of vulnerability, in their hospital beds, in their convalescent homes. And when we get there, yes, we bring oils, often bring communion, and we bring prayers. But what we receive is often something quite spectacular. We see relatives, loved ones, not doing anything spectacular or heroic, but they are present. They are simply present to their loved one, holding their hand, taking care of simple deeds. Sometimes conversations, sometimes not, but there is a sharing of love.
And in this worst place of human suffering, he came to a profound realization. Who was it among them that survived? It was not the strongest. It was not the smartest. It was the one who had meaning in their life. And the meaning had to be greater than the suffering.
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I have a friend taking one of those GLP-1 drugs for the last year, and he just looks fantastic. He has shed pounds he has carried for 10, 20, 30 years. He is now walking, running, he has started to do weights. It has transformed his life completely.
Whether it is because we know what young people are like, or what old people are like, or because of the color of their skin, or their accent, or their community. LGBTQ, married, divorced, immigrant, you name the list. We put people into categories, and we prejudge them. Now, in one sense, we are not bad people. We are just a little blind when we do that. We do not do it intentionally, but our brains work that way.
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