Surviving hard times with fortitude and faith
08/01/2020
Matthew 14:13-21 When Jesus
heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted
place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their
towns. When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with
pity for them, and he cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples
approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late;
dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for
themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give
them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are
all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me,” and he ordered the
crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and
looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to
the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were
satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over— twelve wicker baskets
full. Those who ate were about five thousand men, not counting women and
children.
I recently saw a powerful post on
social media that provides a much needed perspective on this pandemic. It is
called “Born in 1900.” Have you seen it? The anonymous author writes: “Imagine
you were born in 1900. When you are 14, World War I starts, and ends on your
18th birthday with 22 million people killed. Later in the year, a Spanish Flu
epidemic hits the planet and runs until you are 20. Fifty million people die
from it in those two years. Yes, 50 million.” By the way, so far our current
coronavirus pandemic has killed 681,000 people world-wide, compare that with 50
million. The author continues: “When you are 29 the Great Depression begins.
Unemployment hits 25%, and global GDP drops 27%. That runs until you are 33.
When you turn 39, World War II starts. You aren’t even over the hill yet. When
you’re 41, the United States is fully pulled into WWII. Between your 39th and
45th birthday, 75 million people perish in the war, and the Jewish Holocaust
kills 6 million.”
The author’s not done yet; he goes
on: “At 50, the Korean War starts, and 5 million perish. At 55 the Vietnam War
begins, and it doesn’t end for 20 years. Four million people die in that
conflict. Approaching your 62nd birthday, you have the Cuban Missile Crisis, a
tipping point in the Cold War. Life on our planet, as we know it, could well
have ended. As you turn 75, the Vietnam War finally ends.” The author ends his
essay explaining: “A kid in 1985 didn’t think their 85-year-old grandparents
understood how hard school was.” And by the way, they call these elderly people
the “vulnerable population.” They may be vulnerable in body but certainly not
in spirit.
The scripture readings today talk
about how to make it through hard times with fortitude and faith, kind of like
the person “born in 1900,” that is, when we are feeling vulnerable. Isaiah 55
is the end of the second section of Isaiah commonly called “Deutero Isaiah” or
“Second Isaiah,” chapters 40-55. It was composed during the Babylonian Exile
when the people were beginning to lose hope of ever returning home, like many
soldiers during the World Wars who died in foreign lands. Listen to Isaiah
comfort the people: “All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You have no
money, come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost,
drink wine and milk.” Notice the reference to “wine” and “grain,” which was a
far off and faint foreshadowing of the wine and bread of the Eucharist. Isaiah
didn’t promise the people a New Deal like FDR did in the Depression, but rather
a new covenant, which would calm and console the people when they felt
vulnerable.
In his remarkable letter to the
Romans, St. Paul writes: “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will
anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the
sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved
us.” Paul was encouraging the Christian community struggling to stay faithful
in pagan Rome, where they were persecuted and put to death. Paul himself would
be martyred there by beheading. But Paul knew that “the blood of martyrs is the
seed of Christians” and so eventually this “evil city” would become the
“eternal city,” and the holy headquarters of the Roman Catholic Church. Like
the blood of millions of soldiers brought peace and freedom after World Wars,
so the blood of martyrs brought true peace and true freedom to Christians
world-wide. Thus, Paul comforted the vulnerable.
Finally, in the gospel Jesus takes
pity on the crowds who are sick and hungry. How does our Lord minister to them?
We read: “Taking five loaves and two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said
the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn
gave them to the crowds.” If you do a close analysis of the words Matthew
employs at the multiplication of the loaves and fish, you discover he uses the
exact same words at the Last Supper in Mt. 26: “take,” “bless,” “break,” and
“give.” Do you know another instance when a priest takes Bread, blesses Bread,
breaks Bread and gives Bread to people to eat? Of course you do: at every Mass.
Last week the ladies counting the low collection asked me if I could multiply
the money. I replied that my superpowers only work on Communion not on the
collection. The Eucharist is how Jesus feeds and comforts the crowds yesterday,
today, and forever.
My friends, how are you feeling
during this pandemic? Some are feeling anxiety about going back to school.
Others feel lonely and depressed stuck at home or in hospitals. Others feel
frustration because people are not taking this seriously, and not wearing
masks. Still others feel the financial strain from reduced hours or lost jobs.
If we think we have it hard, perhaps we should ask our parents and
grandparents, who have definitely seen darker days than these. Drink deeply
from the fountain of their fortitude and faith. They may be vulnerable in body,
while we are vulnerable in spirit.
And the best place to find peace in
this pandemic is in the scriptures and the sacraments, especially the
Eucharist, as today’s readings remind us. Come to the altar where the Lord
takes, blesses, breaks and gives us the Bread of Eternal Life. Here we find the
grain and wine that Isaiah prophesied to quench our deepest thirst. Here we
feel like St. Paul that “we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.”
And while you’re here at Mass, you can also thank God you were not born in
1900.
Praised be Jesus
Christ!
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