Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Year B
We
often overlook those moments when God speaks to us, those times when He
“disturbs” our lives and shakes us out of our slumber and complacency. To be
honest, we often hate to move out of our well-defined and secure comfort zone. Could
it be that we miss those moments because we tend to look for dramatic evidence
of God’s direction, when ordinary instances abound, if only we were aware of
them? Or could we be that we perceive that the goal of our faith is to acquire blissful moments of pure relaxation, free of all disturbances or
trouble. Most of us would certainly not
dare to utter a prayer such as this:
Disturb
us, Lord, when
We are
too pleased with ourselves,
When
our dreams have come true
Because
we dreamed too little,
When we
arrived safely
Because
we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With
the abundance of things we possess
We have
lost our thirst
For the
waters of life;
Having
fallen in love with life,
We have
ceased to dream of eternity
And in
our efforts to build a new earth,
We have
allowed our vision
Of the
new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To
venture on wilder seas
Where
storms will show Your mastery;
Where
losing sight of land,
We
shall find the stars.
This prayer was originally written by the British seaman and explorer Sir Francis Drake, regarded as a war-hero to the English but viewed as a notorious pirate to the Spanish. Whether viewed as either a hero or villain, a saint or sinner, the prayer of Francis Drake resonates with the experiences of the persons figured in today’s readings. These are stories of persons not disturbed by the troubles of the world. These are stories of persons disturbed by grace. These are stories of how the Prince of Peace comes to disturb our peace. If the Prince of Peace is to bring real peace, he must expose the contradictions that are robbing us of that real peace, and expose himself to the angry denials and hostility of those who are exposed.
In the
first reading, we have Samuel, who’s slumber has been disturbed by none other
than God himself who calls him to a prophetic ministry that would thereafter
define his life. From the secure and risks free life as a priest’s apprentice,
he is now summoned by God to the often dangerous task of appointing kings,
challenging them and finally revoking the mandate that had been granted by God
to rule the nation. The Lord has come to disturb Samuel from his peaceful
slumber so that he may disturb the conscience of the king and the nation and
call them to repentance in order to liberate them from the evil that had enslaved
them.
In the gospel, the first disciples of Jesus are called. Their contented
lives as disciples of another renowned preacher, St John the Baptist, is shaken
up and disturbed by the call to follow the Lamb of God. Let us not be mistaken
by the gentle and harmless appearance of this lamb. It is the Lamb of the Book
of Revelation, which has come to judge the world and destroy evil. It is the
lamb, prophesied by Isaiah, who will be led to slaughter and his vicarious
suffering would prove to be redemptive and salvific. He is the new Paschal Lamb
whose blood will not only save an enslaved Israel but lead the whole of
humanity from slavery to sin into the freedom of being made children of God. This
is no soft cuddly pet, but the One who has come to set the hearts of his
followers aflame with the fire of God’s love.
These men’s cautious distance would be upended when Jesus turns around
and puts a disturbing question to them, “What are you looking for?” Isn’t this
the perennial question of every searching soul? It is as if they cannot put
into the words the deep longings and stirrings within their heart, that they
ask a question in return,” Master, where do you live?” In reply, Jesus issues
the invitation which he issues to all of us, “Come and see!” Only one who
accompanies will see. Jesus’ invitation
was more than social niceties or oriental hospitality.
To “come and see” is to recognise that we have fallen in love with life
and all its illusions, and we have lost our thirst for the waters of life. To
“come and see” means to be disturbed and shaken out of our accustomed comfort with
sin. To “come and see” means to widen our vision beyond what seems familiar to
us. To come and see means going out on a limb into unchartered territories. To
come and see means to abandon everything in order that we may possess
everything in the person of Christ, the treasure beyond compare. The call of the
gospel reveals to us the breathtaking glory and loveliness of God, and in so
doing, it lures our heart away from love of self and leaves us enthralled by
Him instead.
If you
are lost, confused and without direction, come and see. If you have wondered if
there really can be meaning to this life, come and see. If you ache with a pain
that soaks up any good feelings, come and see. And even if you are feeling deliriously
happy, content, and full beyond compare, still come and see. To be honest,
there are no adequate words to describe the experience of being in the presence
of a living God, a loving God, a creator God who knows us without
qualification, and a saving God who loves us just as we are. A love that is
unyielding in its desire for you. A power beyond measure. Not in coercive
control of our actions, but in deep compassion for our being. It is peace. Real
peace. Satisfying enduring peace. It is very unlike the peace of the world, the
kind of peace that you are often fighting to preserve. In finding this peace,
we come to understand the prayer of St Augustine, “You have made us for
yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
Today,
Jesus continues to ask, “What are you looking for?” and to challenge, “come and
See!” the disturbing but transforming power of his grace is still present and
his Spirit is still calling disciples. You will only hear his voice when you
are ready to be disturbed by his grace. We come to realise that even in our
sin, failure and limitation, we do not have to journey to find an elusive God. We
have only to turn into our hearts to find the God who never stops calling us, the
God who never stops disturbing us, the God who never stops searching for the
lost sheep, because this is a God who will never stop loving us.
“Disturb
us, Lord … Disturb us!”
Father, are you sure this is Francis Drake? t seems much too modern and California for an Elizabethan educated pirate.
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