THIS IS A LONELY PLACE!

HOMILY FOR THE 18^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (YEAR A)

Rev. Fr. Peter Onyekachi Ezekoka

Isaiah 55:1-3        Romans 8:35, 37-39        Matthew 14:13-21

The class’s end-of-summer-term field trip had been long in the planning. The form teacher had allowed himself to be persuaded by his pupils to fill the programme for their Day Out with exciting activities. Eagerly, the class registered for the trip which included swimming, sailing and rock climbing. During the trip, everything went according to plan until they got to the final exercise … that is, the rock climbing. The rocks to be climbed turned out to be on a mountain! As they were about to set off from the base camp café, the teacher reminded them about the challenges they were likely to face, so that they were well-prepared. As they were climbing up and up the mountain path and scrambling across the rocks, Janet quipped to her friend, Lisa: “when I finally conquer this Munro” [she was exaggerating], “I’ll be needing a gallon of water!” Panting, Lisa replied grimly: “you need to conquer yourself first, pal, because water flows down a mountain rather than up.” Upon reaching the peak, the tired and thirsty class discovered that there weren’t any pools or waterfalls to drink from. They looked expectantly at their teacher, half-hoping he would produce bottles of water to slake their thirst, but he didn’t. One of the pupils, Bob, was never known to go anywhere without his filling bottle. He piped up: “well, I’ve just got a litre of water here: hands up if you’d like some?” All the hands shot up. Janet muttered darkly to Lisa: “that won’t be enough to satisfy all those of us here.” The teacher overheard, and pointed out the obvious: “Well, that’s all we’ve got, Janet. We’d better manage with that, for this is a lonely place”.

In today’s Gospel reading, people were so keen to hear what Jesus had to teach them that they followed Him to a lonely place, a deserted place, where there was neither food nor drink to be had. The passage from Isaiah in the First Reading is addressed to those who are hungry and thirsty. And the passage from St. Paul in the Second Reading envisions a person surrounded by all sorts of problems - “troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked” – while assuring us that nothing exists that can come between us and God. The disciples realized that although Christ had satisfied the spiritual hunger of that huge number of people – five thousand people! - in that lonely place, it would be practically impossible for them to cater for their physical hunger. Christ was moved with pity for the hungry masses. They were not to be sent away to forage for themselves miles from anywhere as darkness fell; rather, they should be fed, and fed right then and there. He fed each and every one of them to their heart’s content. Our Lord never abandons those who follow Him, especially when they don’t count the cost of following Him.

Today, a lot of things prompt us to see the plague of loneliness around us despite Christ being with us: He promised that “yes, I will be with you, even to the end of time” (Mt 28:20). We’ve got to admit that sometimes following Jesus can feel akin to being on a mountain climbing exercise for which we didn’t volunteer. A daunting faith experience has the capacity to dispatch us to a lonely place mentally and spiritually where it feels as though no-one understands us. Now, how far do you feel that your discipleship of Christ has somehow turned you into a loner? How often have you felt deserted by those whom you thought were your friends, whom you could rely on, who ought to be with you, who ought to be alongside you, but who have deserted you because of the choice or choices you have made for Christ? Does being abandoned make you feel tearful, tired or hungry for reassurance and companionship? Such manifestations of loneliness can feel overwhelming.

But listen to this! The Lord whom we follow even to a deserted place does not desert us. In fact, He guarantees never to desert us. He multiplied five loaves and two fish into enough to feed and satisfy a crowd of more than 5000 people; in that context, just think about what He is able to do in our lives. Our task is to master ourselves, to get our desires under control and to conquer our weaknesses, just as Lisa told Janet to conquer herself during the climb. The acquisition of self-mastery is essential, because it sharpens our senses to be alert to the needs of others … as Bob was in my story, and as the disciples of Christ were in the Feeding of the Five Thousand. Co-operating with God’s grace of discipline is key to having a seat on the green grass in order to be fed by God’s abiding presence and His generosity.

Believe you me, the words of the First Reading are laden with great hope. Imagine how the Israelites in exile in Babylon, enduring strife and deep distress, must have felt when Isaiah was speaking those gracious words to them. We too can spin our wheels fruitlessly in anxiety and distress until such words are spoken to us, especially if we allow hopelessness to replace the joy of the genuine hope that God gives us. God asks us today to come to the water, the Living Water who quenches our thirst, to sit on the green grass that He might feed us with His grace of abundance. This is our Lord’s invitation to us today: our acceptance of it is our ticket to self-mastery and victory. Indeed, it is well for us to keep on and on recalling that we have a High Priest who sympathizes with us in our weaknesses, who was put to the test in every way that we are and yet never sinned (cf. Heb. 4:15). O Lord, help us actively to co-operate with Your grace working within us, and to respond by looking out for each other and giving what we can to the needy. Amen. God bless you.