A homily for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 26, 2022
1 Kgs 19:16b, 19-21, Gal 5:1, 13-18, Lk 9:51-62
In 1966, Walt Disney produced a movie called “Follow Me, Boys!” about a man who settles down in a small town and becomes a scoutmaster. It starred Fred MacMurray, best known to the TV generation as the father in “My Three Sons” and to the Turner Classic Movies generation as the star of “Double Indemnity.”
In one scene in “Follow Me, Boys!” MacMurray stumbles into a restricted area and is questioned by the Army. After he explains he’s a scoutmaster, the soldiers challenge him to tie a sheepshank, a complicated knot he never got the hang of.
Had he tied it, the knot would have been incontrovertible proof that he was a troop leader.
Oops.
(His identity did eventually get clarified.)
If we were challenged to do something that proves we are followers of Jesus Christ, what would it be? Yes, I can tie a sheepshank — behind my back, actually — but that has nothing to do with charity or justice in Our Lord’s name.
We need a guide, we need a plan, we need energizing, we need to get going.
All three passages from Scripture today deal with dropping everything and following a leader sent by God.
And taken in the light of our longstanding cherished image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the selection from St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians and from St. Luke’s Gospel can be seen as invitations to join Christ’s flock and follow. Flock together and mosey in the same direction.
But, again: Do what?
Just walk, graze and bleat as sheep?
Bah.
When sheep trample the same ground over and over, their hooves pound it to the point it’s so dense that nothing can grow. In fact, there’s a piece of heavy construction equipment called a sheepsfoot roller with protrusions that tamp soft ground as a flock would.
So merely following isn’t enough. In fact, it could be considered detrimental. We want the earth to grow and prosper and not be barren.
Therefore, loving one another, as Paul reminds us … loving one another is the right way to follow.
But we need more than warm fuzzies.
When Paul writes of freedom, he’s referring to a freedom to do what is right, what is just, what is charitable, not a do-your-own-thing kind of freedom. Not if your own thing springs from selfishness.
The freedom to choose, one of God’s greatest gifts to humankind.
And what Paul calls the right kind of freedom is most likely what we call free will.
Free will and a well-formed conscience.
Free will and a precise moral compass.
Free will that exploits our unique God-given gifts and talents to elevate the dignity of every woman and man we encounter.
If we’re truly following, using our minds and hearts and the grace provided by the Holy Spirit, then we know what to do when the situation warrants.
That is how we drop everything in the 21st century.
Because the vast majority of us cannot quit our jobs, stop paying the mortgage and the auto loan and the electricity bill and head out into the hinterlands preaching and teaching and healing. Those days are long gone.
But we can build in some time every week — every day! — for random acts of kindness in Christ’s name. We can de-schedule ourselves and our families enough that we have the time and patience to be a good Samaritan to someone whose tire needs changing or whose groceries fell out of the non-plastic bag. We can schedule ourselves to volunteer where and how we can do the most good.
It’s not weird or hokey. People who love their neighbors as themselves are not goody-two-shoes, even if the recipients of a kind act aren’t sure what’s going on, or even are suspicious of your motivations.
That’s when — and only when — it’s OK to explain that you’ve dropped everything to live the Gospel. Until that occasion arises, if indeed it does, we should let our acts of charity speak for themselves.
Because they do. Because they will.
