Homily

This past week went pretty well I thought. I even had two days of sunshine in Chicago. Pretty good week until Thursday night when I got home. There is a priest who has a problem. I have been trying to help him solve his problem for several months now. Of course, I don’t want to be specific and tell you what the problem is about, and it is not a moral problem, but Thursday night I got an email that really made me angry. I thought the top of my head would blow off. I had to wear a tight-fitting hat as a safety measure.

Then comes Friday morning. I had hired the young adult son of one of our priests to do a job for the Eparchy thinking it was a good deed. But there was a deadline, and he never got around to doing the job. He said he would definitely get it done on Wednesday or Thursday, but that didn’t happen. I texted him and said we would have to get somebody else because we couldn’t wait any longer. I get an abusive text message back. I write him saying he knew that time was an issue here. Big mistake. More abuse comes back to me. Both of these are on my mind while I’m cleaning church in preparation for a funeral.

So, what should I do? I have several responses available to me. The easiest response and the one that suggests it will provide the most satisfaction is to react in anger. You know—lash out, strike back, make them pay for what they have done and the hurt they caused. That’s the easy temptation to follow, isn’t it? Another temptation is to do the opposite. Pull back, disengage, put distance between you and them, “Don’t talk to me” or even the “I’ve had enough, I quit, I’m out of here, goodbye.” Counter-attack or withdraw as much as possible. These are the two easy solutions that present themselves to you when you are angry or frustrated with other people.

Thanks be to God, mopping the floor is not a mentally challenging activity as I’m thinking about what to do with these situations, as these two temptations take turns trying to engage me in action to either attack back or withdraw. And then the words of the psalm come into my head, “Only in God is my soul at rest.” (Psalm 62) It says “God alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not fall. My deliverance and honor are with God my strong rock; my refuge is with God. Trust in God at all times my people! Pour out your hearts to God our refuge.” That was indeed the best answer to my anger and frustration.

To rest my soul in the Lord, to trust in God my refuge—suddenly it’s not all about me and them but it should be about me and Him. And that is the proper order. First me and Him, then me and them. I should not pick an easy solution or look for answers that seem to satisfy but instead to just stop and rest in the Lord and put my trust in Him. After that I can so much better see what is the best plan of action, and it will not be attack or escape.

As I was reminded, so I want to remind you today, that we cannot truly rest unless it is in the Lord. The world turns and spins with one disaster after another, one problem following after another. And our own lives too can fill up with troubles, and doubts, and challenges and threats, with anger and frustration and sadness over situations and events much more serious than the ones I have described. At each time, in each situation and every day let us rest only in the Lord, and let us trust only in Him. We’re tempted to fight back. We’re tempted to run away. We’re tempted to trust in ourselves.

The psalmist says, “God alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not fall.” I need to fix that truth ever more firmly into my life, despite the constant temptation to think and act differently. I ask you to think about this as well. Let your soul rest in the Lord. Put your trust in Him alone.