17th Sunday in Ordinary Time – 30 July 2023
Once upon a time there was an old man who lived on the outskirts of a town.[1] He had lived there so long that no one knew who he was or where he had come from. Some said that once he had been very powerful, a king, but that was long ago. Others said no, he was once very wealthy and generous, but without much now. Others said, no, he was wise and influential, and some even said he was holy. But the children just thought he was a stupid old man and they made his life miserable. They threw stones at his windows, left dead cats on his doorstep, ripped up the garden, and shouted at him every chance they got.
Then one day, an older boy came up with an idea to prove once and for all that their parents were wrong, that he wasn’t wealthy, or once a king, or wise, or holy, that he was just a stupid old man. He knew how to catch a bird in a snare. He told the other children he would catch a bird, and together they’d go to the old man’s house and knock on the door. When the man answered, he would ask him, “Old man, do you know what I have hidden behind my back? Now, he might guess that it’s a bird, but it’s the second question that will get him. I’ll ask him if the bird is dead or alive. If he says dead, then I’ll just let the bird go free. If he answers that the bird is alive, then I’ll just crush the bird to death in my hands. Either way, he’s just a stupid old man.”
The kids thought it was a great idea. The older boy caught the bird and off they went to the old man’s house and rudely knocked on the door. The old man came to the door, looked around at all the children and knew they were up to something. The boy spoke quickly, “old man, do you know what I have hidden behind my back?” The old man looked around at the children one by one and out of the corner of his eye he saw a white feather fall to the ground. He answered, “Yes, I do. It’s a bird, a white bird.” The children’s eyes grew large. He could have guessed it was a bird, but how did he know it was white? Maybe their parents were right about him after all. But the leader was not to be deterred and quickly asked the second question, “Well, that was a good guess, but is the bird dead or alive?” Again, the old man looked around at each child, sadly, and finally his eyes came to rest on the older boy. He answered, “That all depends on you, “The answer is in your hands.”
The Kingdom of God is given to us as a pure gift. Yet, there is a real sense in which it is in our hands. We can give it life, or we can crush it. And our response is linked to the way that we look underneath the experiences in our life, trying to perceive what their invitation might be. When we are able to look at the experiences of our life in this way, then each moment can become what we might call Kingdom-moments in our life. They are not moments, however, that are given to us on a platter. We have to come to a decision about how we are to respond to the experiences of our life.
The Kingdom of God has been sown in our life. It is there present in our life somewhere. It only has to be discovered. But the Kingdom of God is dependent on our search for it. No search, no find. But how do we know what we are looking for? What is the shape of this thing called the Kingdom of God? The Kingdom of God is subtle, but it is real. It is the impulse to life beyond death. For God is life. It is the desire for love beyond isolation and bitterness. For God is love. It is the openness to the future beyond the paralysis of fear which keeps us enclosed in the given. For God is the infinite horizon. When we say yes to life, when we stand firm for what expands our sense of living beyond all those forces which threaten to diminish life or even to destroy our human instinct for life; when we make decisions for love which keep us joined to one another and which bring others from their isolation into a sense of companionship; when we step with courage into a new future with questioning and wonder – we have experienced the Kingdom of God. These are the moments which Jesus calls us to treasure. Let us be ever alert for their presence in our life and let us celebrate them with great reverence. Then, we might be surprised at the abundance of life that has been given us.
Our search for these Kingdom moments in our experience reminds me of a memory when I was very young being in a car driving past a park in Launceston Tasmania in which all these people were walking around with their heads bowed down, some with their whole body scrunched over. All of them were obviously intent on something in the grass. Confident that all this was not simply a Tasmanian idiosyncrasy, but perplexed, I asked what this could mean. Apparently, the local radio station, as part of an advertising stunt, had thrown the key of a new car into the park – and the finder was the keeper. People were looking very carefully. And you can imagine not a square inch of that park was left unattended! Imagine for a moment how you would have proceeded had you been in that park. Imagine yourself searching for that key, bending down, hand grazing the grass, your eyes constantly scanning, your attention always focussed on the possibility of discovery. Perhaps we can well imagine the euphoria of being the one who found the key!
Can we be this attentive about our own life?
[1] See Margaret McKenna, Parables: The Arrows of God, (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1994), 26-27.
