Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lectionary: 141
Reading 1
How long, O LORD? I cry for help
but you do not listen!
I cry out to you, "Violence!"
but you do not intervene.
Why do you let me see ruin;
why must I look at misery?
Destruction and violence are before me;
there is strife, and clamorous discord.
Then the LORD answered me and said:
Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets,
so that one can read it readily.
For the vision still has its time,
presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint;
if it delays, wait for it,
it will surely come, it will not be late.
The rash one has no integrity;
but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.
Responsorial Psalm
R. (8) If today you hear his voice, harden not your
hearts.
Come, let us sing joyfully to the LORD;
let us acclaim the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving;
let us joyfully sing psalms to him.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Come, let us bow down in worship;
let us kneel before the LORD who made us.
For he is our God,
and we are the people he shepherds, the flock he guides.
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Oh, that today you would hear his voice:
"Harden not your hearts as at Meribah,
as in the day of Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tempted me;
they tested me though they had seen my works."
R. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Reading 2
Beloved:
I remind you, to stir into flame
the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.
For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice
but rather of power and love and self-control.
So do not be ashamed of your testimony to our Lord,
nor of me, a prisoner for his sake;
but bear your share of hardship for the gospel
with the strength that comes from God.
Take as your norm the sound words that you heard from me,
in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.
Guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit
that dwells within us.
Alleluia
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
The word of the Lord remains forever.
This is the word that has been proclaimed to you.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith."
The Lord replied,
"If you have faith the size of a mustard seed,
you would say to this mulberry tree,
'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you.
"Who among you would say to your servant
who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field,
'Come here immediately and take your place at table'?
Would he not rather say to him,
'Prepare something for me to eat.
Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink.
You may eat and drink when I am finished'?
Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded?
So should it be with you.
When you have done all you have been commanded,
say, 'We are unprofitable servants;
we have done what we were obliged to do.'"
DEAR BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
There is a comforting essence given off by a campfire. Its glow illuminates everything around it, forcing back the darkness. The heat envelopes those around it with a deep coziness that encourages everyone to slide softly into a semi-conscious state of half-sleep. The leaping flames become hypnotic, adding to the feeling of slowly melting into a contemplative state. As the fire slowly dwindles into smoldering ashes, someone usually gets up with a stick and stirs these barely glowing embers and then, suddenly, the flames leap to life again, aided then by a few more pieces of wood. The circle of darkness, preparing to consume everyone is once again forced backward as it is once again defeated by the light. This is what comes to my mind when reading the first few lines of Paul’s Letter to Timothy:
“I remind you, to stir into flame
the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.”
We have all received spiritual gifts from God. We constantly receive His Love through the gift of grace. We have been redeemed through The Blood of the Cross. So, here we are. At times we will feel the Holy Spirit moving through us and then know that God is with us. At other times, the presence is a faint glow like those fading embers in the campfire. It is then that we must call ourselves to account and stir that fire. We must remind ourselves who it is exactly that we are serving and who is responsible for our very existence. The more we act on our faith then the brighter that light will shine. The negative is forced back and the light shines through.
It is the negative thoughts and our own inaction that threatens the flame in our hearts. It is usually us who withdraws from God, not God from us.
Each new day becomes an opportunity where we can ask ourselves what we can do both for God and for our faith-experience. When we wake up, we can either commit ourselves to serve God or to serve ourselves. That question, along with a quick examination of conscious from the night before, sets our course correctly for the rest of the day. This is sort of a deflation of our will; an act of surrendering to God. Many times even the greatest of prophets lamented their situation or, like in the case of Habakkuk, questioned what God was doing. In response, God was either abrupt in nature or comforting: “The rash one has no integrity; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.” This goes directly back to our faith. Faith is not strong if it is not tested. It is useless unless it brings about a reaction from us, such as in the form of good works. It is meaningless if it does not bring comfort and trust. Stirring the coals is a continuous task. We stir them and God will then throw more logs on the fire.
In the Gospel reading today, the Apostles appeared to be demanding something of Jesus. “Increase our faith,” they said. Faith is strengthened through an exercise thereof. It is naturally progressive. The more things we do because of our faith, the more it is increased. We cannot expect the embers to leap forth into a raging fire without it being worked on first. This takes time and effort. Small increments of time invested over a long period of time will produce results. It is inevitable. That small amount of faith that we might have can explode forth if we nurture and care for it. There is a process, and that process is called GROWTH. When building a fire, you always start small with paper, twigs, and leaves. You then add kindling and branches. Finally, logs are added when the flames are large enough. We add all the little stuff, then God adds the match. He will then throw the logs on. When the fire gets low is when God is asking, “Do you love me? Our response is the stirring of the embers. “Yes, I love you!” Here come the logs.
God gives us everything. What we do in reaction is entirely up to us. We can build on it and do what is necessary to keep it, or we can let the fire go out. When the flames grow higher, we will experience less darkness and more light. The darkness can never conquer the light, but we can certainly welcome the darkness by not paying attention to the fire. There is no need to fear the darkness when we can easily stir those embers to life and then we can expect a reaction to that stirring. And yes, then another log will come from our God.
Deacon Tom
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