Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
“Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Mt. 18:20
Disaster relief has been consistently in the news this summer. Hawaii, Florida, New York, Vermont, as well as other locations, have suffered terribly from the consequences of horrific storms, complete with wildfires and loss of life.
The volatility and strength of these storms have been shocking.
However, observers have reported that as fragmented as our country is in many ways, instead of breaking the people affected, in many cases the opposite has happened.
Even in situations where people could have been completely fractured, where stupefying inequality and widening income gaps existed that produced the possibility of completely splitting the inhabitants, the opposite happened.
In many cases, for example, regardless of widening income gaps between those who have and those who don’t, “officials in many situations have started turning volunteers away.”
One observer claims that in many of these circumstances, no matter how dire, the response has been such that, regardless of their economic status, “folks in line waiting to volunteer has eclipsed the demand …. They aren’t asking any questions about where the volunteers came from. They just wanted to help.”
He concluded: “Their presence was as momentous as the disaster itself.”
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus emphasizes the importance of community.
He keeps reminding us that it is through joining together in solidarity with one another that we have the best chance of living lives that are whole and healthy.
Many people in Hawaii, Florida, New York and Vermont seem to have understood this.
Unfortunately, however, many of us don’t know very much about living in a community. Ours is a society in which rugged individualism reigns supreme. We’re often encouraged to “tough it out on our own,” to “make our own way,” to show how strong we are by demonstrating individual will power.
And yet, the reality is:
We need one another. We’re not supposed to just “go it alone.”
Even in our faith life, this is why we come as a community on a regular basis to believe together, to listen to God’s word together, and to eat at his table together.
Why? Because we need the support of one another, especially when we are in pain.
What these recent disasters have shown us so powerfully is that the community can radically help the healing process. It can demonstrate to people struggling with something as destructive as recent storms that they are of primary importance to others by assisting them in getting whatever help they need.
The other grace that today’s gospel stresses is the gift of mercy.
Pope Francis has made this the cornerstone of his papacy – because he believes strongly that this is also the center of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth.
What he’s trying to tell us is that faith is a verb. Not a noun.
It’s a “doing” conviction. It isn’t just a private matter between me and God, but a mission statement that pushes me out of myself and into the community of people – especially into the lives of those who are immobilized by life threatening forces.
The Eucharist that we celebrate together as a community each Sunday is not something that is just about our own personal relationship with God. It’s about two other matters as well – the community and the gift of mercy.
The eating of the body of Christ and the drinking of his blood is ultimately about giving each of us the power, the strength, the motivation, the drive, the impetus to leave the church building and join the community of people – especially to join those who have lost hope, those who have almost given up, those whose lives have been radically altered by a force as powerful as a hurricane.
Again, our faith is a verb. Not a noun.
It’s an action word.
It’s designed to spark within us a desire to be a part of a mission – a mission to bring the grace of God’s mercy to a community awash in deep agony.
Our Gospel today, then, is reminding us that there are so many people starving to the point of dying – starving not just for the basics of food and housing, but who are also profoundly hungry for meaning and purpose and a sense that they count, that they are important, that they are deeply loved.
“Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
In other words, our God is not far off in the heavens somewhere living in splendor and majesty.
Our God is right here in our midst, right here with the broken-hearted, right here with those who have lost hope and meaning, right here with those volunteers who risked their own safety to reach out in any way they could for those who were literally drowning in pain.
One respondent to the recent hurricanes perhaps said it best when he wrote:
“When I was outside of the center where helpers were gathering a few days ago, a bunch of trucks dropped off groups of volunteers with backpacks. There were teenagers in sweatpants, and uniformed officers, and doctors and lawyers and gas-station clerks, and a pack of high-school-age girls standing among them. They were a diverse little crew, with snapbacks and hijabs and purple hair …. They all came with one purpose, however, asking how they could help, and telling the officials they needed to be here.”
“Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
Ted Wolgamot, Psy.D.
