Suspenders

A homily for the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 16, 2024

Ez 17:22-24, 2 Cor 5:6-10, Mk 4:26-34

Years ago, to help a friend produce her dance school students’ recital, I agreed to appear onstage as a magician — “The Great Badini.” Emphasis on “bad,” as in stumblebum. She sent me to a shop where the proprietor set me up with a few basic tricks and props, tricks even I couldn’t foul up.

I didn’t pull any rabbits out of my hat, but I did learn to pass a massive needle and thread completely and safely through a balloon before intentionally popping it.  And there was this gizmo I held behind my teeth so I could pull yards upon yards of colored handkerchiefs out of my mouth.

As “The Great Badini,” I learned the secrets of making people believe the otherwise unbelievable. And I can still do those tricks.

These days, lots of people can. Make people suspend disbelief, I mean.

Unfortunately, these days it’s more a case of fooling people than persuading people to believe in what’s true and right and good.

These days, who and what we believe has become pretty much the opposite of simple and predictable and reputable. And who and what we hear has become a jackhammer on our ears and skulls.

And with all this static, our faith, our beliefs, the good seed planted in our souls by our Creator may not be growing.

Unlike the prophet Elijah, we can’t retreat to a cave to listen for the whisper that carries the message of God.

Unlike Jesus, we can’t hole up in the desert or on a mountaintop to fast and pray.

We can’t even sit in our living rooms and avoid our neighbors sharing conspiracy theories — or arguing about them — at top volume.

In the secular, political world, we’re facing what George Orwell warned about in “Nineteen Eighty-Four”:

“And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed — if all records told the same tale — then the lie passed into history and became truth.”

And in our houses of worship and similarly religious encounters with each other, we’re asking the same question that Pontius Pilate asked Jesus, when Our Lord said he had come to testify to the truth:

“What is Truth?”

Ouch.

These days, it doesn’t require a magic wand to get people to suspend their disbelief and instead believe in things or scenarios they might have ridiculed not long ago. Some things that once seemed foolish or selfish are now accepted as truth, even if they run counter to the Faith of Our Fathers.

Not to burst anybody’s bubble (or balloon), but I see many, many people following false prophets or messengers of an incomplete Christian spirit. I see many people dazzled by Pepsodent smiles and charmed by voices that flow like honey from the rock.

I see many people cherry-picking the words of Jesus, the words that were recorded years after his Ascension, words compiled from the memories of Emmanuel’s friends and followers, some of whom never actually encountered the Nazarene’s physical presence.

I see many people misunderstanding why Jesus was born, grew into a man, taught, laughed, healed and worked other miracles, made the ultimate sacrifice, and then revealed the truth of his divinity.

I see many of those same people playing down the totality of Christ’s life, a life of action, a life of healing, a life working for justice and the uplifting of the lowly and impoverished. The life of Christ, who always had an infinite number of seats at his table, all of them next to him.

Where did some people get their beliefs? And how and why?

Jesus had faith, faith in the Father who sent him to lead us — us! — back to God-Who-Is-Love. Jesus asked — asks — us to believe in him and believe what we cannot see, to trust that he will lead and guide us safely despite the hills and valleys and twists and turns and rocky and thorny patches of our human lives.

Jesus asks us to believe — have faith — that our Triune God always provides everything we need to obey the Law of Love. In other words, to put our faith into action. To be Christ to one another, especially the least among us.

God rains down grace and truth to help our seedling faith mature. To soak up grace and truth, ya gotta believe.