It’s that time of year again. And what time is it? Well, for some, it’s time to get ready to start school. Last week, we heard Fr. Fred1 talk about education, especially at our neighboring parish of St Anne’s in Tomball. Fr Fred also reminded us that this week we would be hearing about stewardship, since in the Diocese of Galveston-Houston it’s the time of year when we are reminded we are stewards of the gifts God has given us. Stewards: those who look after what the master has left in their charge. Which leads me to today’s question: What are the three gifts for which we are called to be stewards?
Yes, “time, talent and treasure.” Today, we are asked to focus on “time” – the time given to us by God and for which we are held responsible as his stewards. I don’t know about you, but I often feel the gift he has given me isn’t quite big enough, or long enough. My time seems to vanish without my realizing where it has gone or how it has gone. I’m sure there are now less than twenty-four hours in a day. And does a “year” really still have three-hundred-sixty-five days? How am I to spend more time with God when he seems to be giving me less and less free time to spend with him or with anybody else? I seem to be filling up my hours very easily, even if I have, supposedly, been “retired” for the last three years.
There are times when I want to be like the prophet Elijah we heard about in our First Reading for today and simply hide out in some cave, get away from it all, retreat to a place of quiet where I can rest for a while. Of course I would really not want to be Elijah who, in fact, was hiding out from the wrath of Queen Jezebel. Yes, Elijah was hiding out in that cave and not merely trying to get away from an active life.
So, what happened to him? Was Elijah able to hide out comfortably in that cave? No. Because what happened is: God called. Yes, it seems when we try to escape, try to be alone for a few minutes, either to rest or to escape from our pursuers, God calls. God calls us to spend some time with him, to be present to the Lord God. And we respond. We answer his call. We enter into prayer.
Yes, believe it or not, prayer is not something I do, it’s not something I, myself, want. Oh, I may say I want to pray, but it is God who calls me to prayer. Prayer is my response to God’s call, his call to be in his presence.
Elijah, himself, left the safety of his cave when he heard the call of God. Elijah looked for Yahweh in the power of nature, in the whirlwind, in the earthquake, and in the consuming fire. But the Lord God was not in any of these great events. Rather, the Lord God met Elijah in the tiny whisperings of a gentle breeze.
Although each of us might seek God in the wonders and great events of our life, he comes in fact, in gentle prayer, in the inner calling of our faith in him. Peter learned the same lesson. In our gospel reading, Peter and the other disciples saw their Lord and Master walking on the waves of the Sea of Galilee during a predawn storm. The terrified Peter wanted to be in the immediate presence of his Lord and Master, to be safely with Jesus, who from a distance, said to his frightened friends, “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.”
However, Peter demanded a greater sign. He wanted Jesus to command him to come, to order him to walk across the waves. And Jesus responded, “Come.” But Peter took his eyes away from the one who called. He saw the dangers beneath him as he approached Jesus and began to sink. Yet it was then that Jesus reached out to Peter, took him from the raging waters, and spoke words which calmed both the fisherman and the waters, themselves. Yes, there are times when God calls me in prayer and I respond with my own demands, my own desire for proof God loves me and, therefore, will respond dramatically to my demands. And God does respond to our demands and allows us to do what we believe is the right thing. But then, when we behold not the face of Jesus, but rather the elements of our own world, we falter. Yet, as we begin to sink beneath the stormy waves of our life, our companion, who has never left us, reaches out and brings us forth from the dangers into which we have put ourselves.
Just how does he do this? How does he reach out to us? Perhaps, the answer can be found in what happened before Jesus walked across the storm-tossed waters. Jesus, on the evening before he walked across the stormy waves of the Sea of Galilee, went to the top of a mountain to spend the night in prayer, to be in the presence of Abba, his Father. Jesus gave his attention both to his Father and to his friends. Jesus was a steward who walked not only with his companions, but also with Abba. He gave of his time both to his Father and to his friends.
This Sunday we are again reminded we are stewards of the time given to us by God. We are to use this time for others and in prayer. Prayer is not a time for the demands of the steward. Rather, prayer is the time for us, who are his stewards, merely to be in the presence of the Master who loves us, the one who freely gives us all of the world for our use and for our protection – our protection for use by others, by all those whom he loves.
For this is what stewardship means. As stewards, we are caregivers for all of the gifts given to us, gifts to be shared with others. God calls us to be stewards of the time he gives, the time we share with others. But we are also asked to share our time with God as well.
God calls us to devote exclusive time for us to be with him, to be in the presence of God, to be in prayer with God. God calls us to a prayer life – a life lived in the presence of God. God also he calls us to a prayerful life – a life influenced by prayer, a life formed in prayer and lived for others.
While it is true that each of us is called to serve our brothers and sisters, to be stewards of his creation, God also calls each of us to be with him, to be present to him, alone. We need not climb to the top of a mountain. We need not walk across raging waters. But we do need to hear his call to each of us, hiding in our caves or in a storm-tossed boat. We need to listen for his whisper and respond. This may be the time of year for some of us to continue our education. It is always the time of year for me to continue my walk with the God who whispers to me in my heart and in my prayer.
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary; August 11, 2002
1Kg 19:9a, 11-13a; Rom 9:1-5; Mt 14:22-33
- Fr. Fred Valone had recently been Parochial Vicar at Christ the Good Shepherd. In 2002 he was the Pastor at the neighboring parish of St Anne in Tomball, TX. St Anne had a struggling elementary school needing additional support. Since we did not have a school, but many of our families sent their children to St Anne’s, it seemed appropriate to allow him the use of our pulpit.