Friends
Peace be with you.
Yesterday morning, I got together with a couple hundred people in front of Newbo Market for the Hot Cider Hustle. It was a race to raise money for Families Helping Families, a charity that helps kids in foster care and their families. Just as a bit of context, you should know that, two weeks prior, I had failed on a four mile run down by Lake McBride. At least I thought I had failed because I had to walk part of the route and, even though it was a tougher route with a lot of hills and, in my practice runs after that run, I’d not had to walk, it got in my head and I was afraid I would do it again at this race. It was also a cold, dreary post-rain morning, which made it hard to want to leave on one of two days where I can sleep in. Nonetheless, I got out of the house and drove to the race. I chose to run a 10K, so 6.2 miles starting in front of Newbo Market and snaking in front of St. Wenceslaus Church and over to the bike path, across the bridge into Mt. Trashmore and back. The first half of the run was great. I was able to run my race at my pace. As I was on my way back toward Newbo Market, I started feeling fatigued and was tempted to walk, especially as I passed by the entrance to Mt. Trashmore. But, as I was approaching the Cedar River bridge that connects Newbo and the Czech Village, a song called “The River” by Jordan Feliz came on completely randomly. It starts out slow but gets increasingly intense until the chorus
Like a tide, it is rising up deep inside a current that moves and makes you come alive
Living water that brings the dead to life, oh-oh-oh-oh
We're going down to the river
Down to the river, down to the river to pray
Let's get washed by the water
Washed by the water and rise up in amazing grace
Let's go down, down, down to the river (You will leave changed)
Let's go down, down, down to the river (Never the same)
It was a perfect reminder as I ran across the Cedar River to ask God to give me the strength to finish. And I did. I said a quiet prayer to God to give me strength to finish. And he did…but he didn’t stop with strength. I also felt this wave of gratitude flowing through me for inspiring me to run this particular race and making it physically possible. It changed my whole attitude toward the race and powered me through the end of it.
Today’s gospel, as we heard, is about people being invited to but not attending a wedding feast. Now, I will admit that I hate wedding receptions. I’m an introvert and I find large group gatherings where I don’t know anyone to make me exhausted. I don’t enjoy drinking alcohol. I don’t like dancing. And, I especially don’t like it when someone I don't really know gets the liquid courage to talk to a priest about some problem they’re having that they almost certainly will not remember the next day. So, I have some sympathy for the people who don’t show up. But, remember that this is a metaphor for the kingdom of heaven. So, rather than think of the modern wedding reception, we should probably think of Mass, which is called, in the Book of Revelation, the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. The point of the parable is that there are people who are called to be part of Mass who have decided not to come. But, then there are those who come and do not wear the correct wedding garment. Now, I’m sure there are priests who are using this parable to talk about appropriate attire at Mass, but I’m just as sure that that’s not what the Lord had in mind with this parable. The person not wearing a wedding garment is not wearing it in his heart. He shows up to Mass but he doesn’t want to be there.Think of the woman who looks like she’s sucking on lemons the whole time she’s at Mass or the man who has his arms and legs folded as though he’s trying to regress back into the fetal stage of life when things were simpler.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. I get it, there are times when we don’t really feel like coming to Mass. For me, it’s diocesan liturgies like the upcoming installation of our Archbishop or our summer convocation Mass or a priest’s funeral. I get frustrated with my brother priests because we wear the ugliest stoles we can find in the back of our closet, we can’t process or recess worth a darn and we are the WORST when it comes to reverence before Mass. We’re like a bunch of feral cats. If you get more than one priest in a pew before Mass, I can almost guarantee that they will be chatting away about something that can wait until the reception ater Mass and it drives me crazy. Nonetheless, I try to find a reason to give thanks. The truth is that there are plenty of priests who used to talk before Masses who are now not healthy enough even to come or whose funeral I have attended, so I should be thankful for the guys who are there. And, in the end, as will happen this coming Wednesday, the point isn’t to have a perfect procession with the most beautiful stoles but to welcome our new Archbishop, a fact for which I am truly grateful.
There is much to be cynical about in the church that can cause us to lose hope. Gratitude can bring it back. It’s a gift that God can bestow on us in his time if we ask for it. Let’s go down to the river and ask God to change the garments of our hearts to be grateful for all the gifts he has given us.
