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Turning the World on Its Head

26th Sunday of Ordinary Time
https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/072824.cfm

There was a boy named Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone who lived in a little town in central Italy in the 13th century. His father was in France on business when he was born and so began calling him “Frenchy” or Francis.

As a young man, his great ambition was to become a troubadour and a jongleur—a kind of wandering musician and poet, but also an acrobat and circus performer. Francis was often found walking around on his hands with his feet pointed towards the sky.

To many people, he appeared foolish, but standing upside down gave Francis a unique perspective on the world. From his vantage, everything seemed to falling into nothingness. His feet were not grounded. Even tall buildings and impressive battlements appeared to rest on the clouds and were in danger of floating away.

The young Francis, who would of course become known as Saint Francis, recognized that the world is radically and completely dependent upon God at every moment. While everything looks solid and permanent in our reality, we exist because God wills us to. If, at any moment, God ceased to sustain our existence, we would pop like a soap bubble.

This realization led Francis to celebrate and embrace his dependence on God. Rather than trying to assert his independence, Francis embraced a radical poverty—owning nothing, giving everything away, living completely in the trust that God is in control. Worrying for nothing. This does appear foolish according to the logic of our world.

Yet, most of us have a moment in our own lives when our world is turned upside. When everything that seemed sure and stable is unexpectedly lost. When we realize that we really are not in control. Who do we trust in moments like this? Do we trust only in ourselves? In family in friends? In politicians?

This weekend, we celebrate the baptisms of several children. St. Paul, in the letter we heard proclaimed today, enjoined us to remember the call that we received in our baptisms. He wrote, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received.”

St. Francis embodied a deep trust in God—a willingness to give up everything he owned and follow Jesus. What are we being called to do through our baptisms? Are we living in a way that this worthy of that call? Do we trust in the Lord when times are lean?

In the multiplication of the loaves miracle, Jesus’ closest disciples are skeptical that the food will stretch far enough. They don’t trust that he will be able to satisfy the hunger of the crowd.

In the first reading, the multiplication miracle takes place during a time of famine. These stories are meant to show the abundance of life that God offers us. I think, sometimes, that it is easier for people who have experienced poverty to appreciate these stories—those who know what it is to be hungry and not know when the next meal might be coming. To such people, God says, “take your seat at the table and relax. Then eat. Eat until you are satisfied. There is enough food to fill you and still there will be more left over. There is enough for all who come to my table.”

Jesus’ first followers regularly experienced hunger and food insecurity. This miracle likely would have landed differently for them. In America, most of us rarely miss a meal. Food is plentiful, relatively cheap, and available everywhere. Yet, we experience a spiritual poverty that causes us to horde what we have, and not to trust God or our neighbors.

In times of famine and of fear, human beings tend to have a mindset of scarcity rather than abundance. We want to close our doors, build barriers, and protect what we have. We don’t trust that there truly is enough for everyone—enough food, enough jobs, enough houses, enough healthcare, enough resources on this good earth. How might we live with a mindset of abundance rather than scarcity?

We come to the Lord’s table every week to be reminded that our faith in Him is stronger than our fear. That he offers his overflowing grace to us, asking for nothing in return.

The Gospel of John makes a clear connection between the miracle of the loaves and fishes and the Eucharist. The miracle happens close to Passover, he has the people recline, he gives thanks, breaks the bread, and shares it with everyone. These are all elements at the Last Supper. Both events are meant to remind us that nothing that we have is truly ours—everything comes from God and everything is returning to God. This is the revelation of St. Francis when he saw the world upside down.

His famous peace prayer illustrates the paradoxes of Christian life:
It is in giving that we receive
It is in forgiving that we are forgiven
And It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Francis, like Christ, lived with an open hand rather than a closed fist. And by owning nothing, he became truly free. This is the wisdom of Christ, which appears to be foolishness in the eyes of the world. Like Francis, may we become fools for Christ.




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