TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY OF THE YEAR
4 SEPTEMBER 2016
HOMILY
Oh, it must be about fifteen years ago now I spent a day with a family I’ve known since I was ordained.
The husband and wife were married the same year I was ordained.
I’ve watched the children–three of them– grow from infancy.
I called to set up a day I could spend with them–the first in a year.
They wanted me to arrive early.
Told me to dress casually–bring a swimming suit–that made me nervous since I have this fear of water.
When I walked in the door they began to sing, “Happy Birthday.”
They had chosen to celebrate my birthday that day because we never got together at Christmas time.is a work day for me.
Then they announced my gift. The children had chosen it. A day at Valley Fair–the amusement park.
That really would never be at the top of my list of fun things to do.
We take the drive to Valley Fair.
I am given a pair of sandals to wear rather than my shoes because as the oldest son said:
“You’re going to get wet today and we wouldn’t want your shoes ruined.”
I smiled cheerfully, surprising even myself.
After the first ride, the mother got sick.
After the second ride, the father got sick.
Who was left to go on the rides with the kids–me!
One of the rides is this thing which is built to look like a big ship which swings back and forth
until you hang upside down for about a minute.
I am there with the youngest and oldest children on either side of me,
hanging upside down when the youngest child suddenly says: “Father, I don’t want to be here any more.” I glared at him. Like I did.
It began to rain during the day-we marched bravely on through all the rides.
At one point we were on this ride which takes you up a straight vertical incline and then drops you.
I was on my back looking into these massive rain clouds, rain pelting me, lightening arching between the metal fillings of my teeth. The middle child clutches me dearly and says:
“Isn’t this just the best birthday present we could have given you?”
The day finally ended and I go to my friend Mike’s house at St. Thomas.
I am soaking wet, feet stained from the blue sandals, shivering.
Mike cheerfully asks: “Did you have a wonderful time?”
“Look at me, I said, Do I look like I had a great time?”
He said: “Friendship which doesn’t cost anything, just isn’t friendship, isn’t that what you always tell me?”
Of course that is the point of the gospel today.
Our friendship with the Lord will cost us.
There is no way around that.
If we’ve come here looking only for sweetness and light, then we’d better keep moving on.
No one “belongs” if all they do is take. No one is a disciple of the Lord Jesus without counting the cost.
The tricky thing, which I learned again from this family, is that the “cost” isn’t just what we want to give. We don’t always get to determine the cost of friendship–with the Lord, the Church, or our friends.
Are you willing to enter such a relationship–which costs, but you don’t get to determine the cost?