Friday, June 12, 2015

Holy Buckets

On the fifth anniversary of my diaconal ordination, I am posting my first homily - given the following day - June 13, 2010, the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C.

          I know what you’re thinking:  “What is he doing up there?  I know that my mother is resisting the urge to say, “Michael, get down from there right now!”  Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m wondering the same thing, and that reminds me of a story of a farmer who would carry two buckets of water up a hill every day to water his garden.  Over time, one of the buckets developed a hole, and as the farmer walked to his garden, the bucket would leak so his balance would be thrown off, his shoulders would get sore and the bucket would be half empty by the time he made it to the garden.  After some time the bucket finally said, “Farmer, I’m sorry I have a hole.  I have caused you much pain and have not been able to carry my full share of water to the garden.  I understand if you want to get rid of me and replace me with a new bucket.”  But the farmer replied, “Oh Bucket, when I realized you were leaking, I planted rose bushes along the side of the road where I carried you.  Haven’t you noticed all of the beautiful flowers that you have been watering everyday as we walk to the garden together?”  That bucket discovered that she was loved and accepted, holes and all, and that’s what today’s Gospel is about.

          In our Gospel passage, a known sinner marches into a Pharisee’s home and subjects herself to the ridicule of the community so she can wash and anoint Jesus’ feet.  What in the world caused her to do that?   Love.  Somehow, somewhere this woman discovered true love – God’s love.  She discovered that God loved her, faults and all.  And she just couldn’t contain herself.  That love flowed right through her in an extravagant act of devotion - washing and anointing the feet of the Anointed One.  We see the same devotion at the end of the Gospel with the women who received God’s love in the form of forgiveness or healing and devoted their lives to following Christ and serving him.  These women were able to love much, because they received and accepted much love. 

          God’s love is dynamic!  It moves us and shakes us.  And it’s like a lifesaver – it’s meant to be shared.  That’s because God can’t contain himself.  God bubbles over in love and good cheer, and he just has to share his good feelings with us so we can share them with each other.[1]  But in order to share God’s love, we have to allow ourselves to receive it first.  And that’s not always easy because a lot of people – myself included – spend a lot of time dwelling on our faults.  Now, acknowledging our faults isn’t a bad thing.  But if we hang onto our faults too tightly, they can dominate us.  We may even start defining ourselves by our faults:  “I’m no good at sports; I’m not good enough for that job promotion; I can’t drink out of a juice box without squirting juice all over myself.”  My girls say, “You don’t squeeze it, Daddy.” Obsessing about our faults blinds us to the beauty of our creation in the image of God.  We become unable see God in us and all the good we can do with his love.  We fail to smell those roses.     

          We have to receive God’s love with faith and confidence.  God never stops loving us – faults and all – and all he asks is that we return that love to him by sharing it with each other.  I’m not making this up.  You know that when we receive God’s love in the form of the Eucharist, we’re not told to hold him inside all to ourselves.  What’s the command we hear at the end of Mass? (Given by the Deacon, I would add).   We hear that same command toward the end of this Gospel.   We’re told to “Go!”  “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!”  Why?  Because the love of Christ is flowing right through us.  We’re leaking Jesus all over the place, and God wants us to carry his Living Water to the whole World.  When we truly accept God’s love – his mercy, his forgiveness, his sacrifice, his consolation – we can’t hold it in.  We want to share it with everyone we meet.  We’re flooded with an urgent need to return it to God through service to one another – just like the women in today’s Gospel.

          I know how they felt.  About seven or eight years ago, I returned to confession after almost 30 years of not going.  After that much time, I was so bogged down in my faults, that I really couldn’t see much good in me at all.  I was miserable.  But not long after that confession, I began to see beyond my faults to the God who never stopped loving me – faults and all.  And then I couldn’t contain myself. I wanted everyone around me to experience the love that I felt.  I read everything I could get my hands on; I became more active in the parish; I began praying more.  Jessica even started calling me Saint Michael – I’ve been called worse.  I began spiritual direction; I entered diaconate formation.  And now I stand here before all of you – the people who bring God’s love to me every day in so many ways:  through your support, your prayers, your kind words, and a lot of laughs.  I stand here praying that, in some small way, I can return that love to God in service to you as your Deacon. 

          Unfortunately, this bucket has a lot of holes in it.  Maybe you think yours does too.  But God loves us anyway – holes and all – and he still calls us to carry his Living Water to the World.  So do you know what that makes us?  Holy Buckets!


[1] Barron, Robert, Thomas Aquinas:  Spiritual Master (New York, Crossroad Publishing 2008) 107-108.

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