Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/080711.cfm
Each summer, we find ourselves in the U.S. and in Europe in Ordinary Time and every three years we hear the same Readings. But everytime we hear them, we do hear them differently.
I have been amazed this summer how _perfectly_ the Readings fit life during this time of year (at least here in the U.S.A. or in Europe) where summer means vacation, or at least slowing down.
Over these weeks, we’ve heard stories/accounts of wheat, weeds, shrubs, fields, pearls and food. Today we get to talk about water. What a really nice liturgical summer it has been ;-), because probably all us have a story or two about water and the summer that brings back fond memories of family, friends and _hopefully_ the presence of God.
I know something about "waves on a lake" because when I finished my first year in college, my dad and I went canoeing on the Boundary Waters that summer. (Throughout those years, in fact, my dad and I went on a number of wonderful trips, this being the first and one of the best. In the following years, we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee one year, and the other year we went to Banff/Jasper Nat’l Parks in Alberta, Canada which was _another_ great and unforgetable trip). But the first of these trips was to the Boundary Waters.
We drove out to the Boundary Waters, rented a canoe from an outfitter. He dropped us off at one of the lakes and told us that he’d meet us there 5 or 6 days later “at 5 PM” ;-) and that was it.
Now both of us, being Czechoslovakian and former scouts knew _something_ about canoeing. The Czech Republic doesn’t have a whole lot of lakes worth getting a sail-boat for. But it _does_ have a good number of rivers. And so learning something about canoeing is part of growing-up. And we knew something about ponds “rybniky” (a little lake or two) as well. But the rather impressively long (and more to the point, _wide_) lakes of the Boundary Waters did prove to be something of a surprise: when the wind blew, the waves _did get rather large_, or large enough to become worrisome, while sitting in a canoe gliding about a foot above the surface of the water.
Still we were brave, and quite fit in those days. And so we did complete our 5-6 day trek, canoeing/portaging through those lakes. There was only one point where we were rather worried about whether or not we’d “make our ride” the next day "at 5 PM." The wind had been blowing particularly hard that day, and there was a lake that we simply had to cross directly from one shore to the other, without being able to stay near shore.
FORTUNATELY we reached the lake only near sunset. So the wind had died down. The waves were still quite large, but without the wind, they ceased to be that fearsome. What made that trip across the lake unforgettable for me were the colors – with the sun setting, the water turned yellow, orange and brown. Enthralled by this, somewhere near the middle of the lake, I exclaimed (certainly to myself) “My God, it’s like we’re canoeing on jello.”
Now (as I write this), I would hope actually that we had _not_ experienced a “water miracle” and the lake had _not_ turned temporarily into jello ;-), still the experience _of the colors_ was remarkable and though this happened nearly 30 years ago, I still haven’t forgotten it, but recall it as if it happened yesterday. And 30 years later, though I've taken plenty of photos over the years of sunsets and water, I've never seen water _so beautiful_ as I saw on that day.
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Now I know that the Gospel Reading today is about Jesus calming the sea and even pulling Peter “out of the water” when he tried to walk with him.
We’ve heard this story many times and certainly _the main point_ of this miracle story is that Jesus is capable of walking above all the troubles of this world and is capable of even reaching out toward _us_ to pull _us_ out of the mire when we call for help.
But perhaps it is worth noting just this time, today, thanks to THIS HOMILIST (me), that Jesus used the elements of nature (notably wind and water on a lake) to reveal himself in this miracle to his disciples.
And the story invites _us_ to reflect on the times when _we_ felt particularly close to God (both in nature or in other situations that only _we’d_ appreciate).
I would like to add here that the trips that my dad and I took into the wilderness those years WERE SPIRITUAL JOURNEYS. We always took a Bible as well as other unambiguously Christian spiritual reading when we went on these trips. And yes, we read and we prayed on these trips. And yes, I do believe that these trips were _fruitful spiritual exercises_ that not only brought us closer to each other but also closer to God.
So in closing this homily, I’d like to ask all of you to reflect on when in your lives you’ve sought to come closer to God, and how did you (or could you have) met the _outstretched hand of Jesus_.
God reveals himself in to us _all kinds of ways_, including, above all in the Eucharist that we celebrate here (and why we are here now in the first place).
But I do believe that he does reveal himself to us throughout our lives and _not surprisingly_ in the course of things that we love to do.
Thus the question for this week, again, for your reflection during this lazy time of rest or at least slowing down: Where/when in the course of your life have you felt closest to God? ;-)
And let us give thanks for the remarkable summer that it has been! God bless you all.
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