Cardinal C., chief shepherd of RC's in Cook and Lake (IL) counties, makes a good point this week . . .
. . . into which he regrettably inserts a political reference.
Chatting with a father, he came on a similarity with what Jesus had in mind when he miraculously fed people with bread and fishes and then made explicit what he wanted of his disciples.
Do not work for food that perishes
but for the food that endures for eternal life,
which the Son of Man will give you.
The father spoke of his son’s “maturing,” making the transition from dependency to adult self-dependency.
“Everything about their relationship changed,” the cardinal reported, when the son related to his parents as ”more than providers.”
Indeed, the son “began to value his relationship with them on a much deeper level and was enriched by it beyond the material blessings he had enjoyed.”
“That conversation came to mind,” the cardinal wrote, as he “reflected on the [Scripture] texts . . . given to us for Sunday Mass over these summer months” in which “Jesus feeds the crowd . . . and they want to make him their king who will . . . satisfy their hungry stomachs.”
At that point, Jesus “challenges” his disciples “to mature in how they relate to him and to the Father.”
Urging them, we might say “to grow up.”
The man was right about the parental experience, of course. Parents rejoice in their children’s coming of age. We do.
Our household, our blue heaven, was founded five and a half decades ago by the usual two, and soon enough baby made three. Then four, then five, and on until we became an eight-person conglomerate.
Kids grow up and make you proud? You thank God for that.
Cardinal C’s message as shepherd of the two counties lies in his apt comparison of a son seeing in his parents more than a supplier of food with Jesus multiplying loaves and fishes — and looking for more than a polite thank-you.
Cardinal C:
Jesus wants to awaken the deep hunger they have in their souls for so much more, for eternal life, which only God can satisfy.
He invites them to mature in how they relate to God as more than the provider who sustains them in this life.
To realize their hearts were made for Him alone and will not rest until they rest in Him — thank you, Augustine of Hippo, who took a while before waking up and growing up and confessed it famously to all the world.
The Cardinal:
As these Gospel texts [about the loaves and fishes] are proclaimed over these weeks, we are invited to mature in how we view our relationship with God.
At its core must be the deeply held belief that we have been gifted with life in order to share in Jesus’ work of bringing salvation to the world, and destined to live for all eternity with God.
Gifted indeed, to share in Jesus’ work. But first, I’d say, not to second-guess our spiritual leader, but haven’t we been blessed first with a personal experience that enriches us more than we can say, enables us to know and love Him, i.e. qualifies us as apostles?
The cardinal continues:
When we do begin to mature in our relationship with God, everything changes. We begin to understand our calling to care for God’s creation in this moment of climate crisis.
Climate crisis? Whoa. Where did that come from? In the midst of his paean to spiritual things, he inserts a politicized term of the first water. Ask Wikipedia, where “Politics of climate change” gets the full Wiki treatment. In the midst of making a densely spiritual point, the cardinal essentially, if briefly, puts out a call for political action.
“We are prompted to show mercy (?) for those struggling in life,” he continues.
A little trouble following here. Generosity?
“We value forgiving others, having experienced God’s forgiveness ourselves.”
To be sure, sinners that we are.
We become free to be generous with the blessings we have received, humbled by the truth that everything we have was gifted to us and that our treasure is in heaven.
Yes.
“Over these restful months of summer,” he concludes,
Jesus tells us to grow up in how we relate to him and the Father, by deeply believing that we have been created to share their [?] life for all eternity. For when we do that, everything changes.
Amen.