NOTHING MORE SHALL I WANT
[BREAKING THE BREAD OF GOD’S WORD]
July 19, 2015 – 16th Sunday OT – B
NOTHING MORE SHALL I WANT
I have been mortally afraid quite a few times in my life –
from childhood all the way to adulthood. The first time was some kind of a
twilight zone experience. I was probably teetering on edge between toddlerhood
to early childhood. I was midway between being fully asleep and being half
awake. I don’t remember the details nor the images, but I do remember the fear
and the trembling … alone in a dark room, while I heard terrifying sounds of
gunfire and loud voices of people in the middle of the night.
There were other occasions of “fear and trembling” that did
not quite equal the terror of the first, but again, I still remember the
feeling.
As an adult, I still fear the unknown. I still fear getting
sick and old and eventually dying – a reality that seems less and less
far-fetched as time moves on.
But my experience has taught me one thing beyond those fears.
One may be very afraid of something not necessarily defined, but one stands
better chances of managing those fears when one is accompanied, assisted, guided
and affirmed by someone who stands by you, reassures you, and keeps you close
to his or her heart.
I remember my “lola” (grandmother) rubbing my back, hands
and feet when I was burning with fever and unable to care for myself. High with
fever, chilling and shaking and overcome with all sorts of frightening
illusions, there was that reassuring presence and soothing touch that made the
ordeal bearable.
I remember my mother holding me close to her bosom on a
stormy night. The scary lightning bolts
and the deafening peals of thunder paled in comparison to my mother’s tight hug
and warm embrace.
I remember by father holding me by the hand, teaching me how
to go to school. Wrapped in a heavy raincoat that was longer than me, and
lugging a big bag inside, the rain-induced darkness and dreariness were offset
by the presence of someone who somehow appeared to me then, as more powerful
than any force represented by the raging rain and the wild, whistling wind.
Come to think of it, it is PRESENCE and CLOSENESS that
matters more than anything else … empathy and intimacy … LOVE and COMPASSION
from someone powerful that would help anyone brave through the trials and
vicissitudes of life.
This is what the readings today remind us of. This is what
we believers are convinced of – what Jeremiah speaks about and what St. Paul
extols …
The Israelites of old were more than just abandoned. They
were scattered. They were exiled. Their rights were trampled on. They felt
alone and terrified and had their own share of “fear and trembling.”
But God was present and was with them all along. Take it
from Jeremiah, who now assures us once again: “I myself will gather the remnant
of my flock from all the lands to which I have driven them and bring them back
to their meadow.”
Take it from David, who now teaches us once more to pray
with faith and hope: “The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.”
Truth to tell, like I did as a child, we all feel alone at
times. We feel out of the loop on occasion. We feel helpless even. But the
other side of the truth we all need to hear now is what Paul reminds us of: “In
Christ Jesus you, who once were far off, have become near by the blood of
Christ.”
This is what we celebrate each Sunday, the day of the
Lord. This is what we proclaim. This is
what this Mass is all about.
“Come away by ourselves to this place and let us rest a
while.” Then, and most especially now, despite all the fear and trembling that
we are facing, he sees us – the vast crowd – and like then, I would like to
believe that “his heart is moved by pity.”
For he is Lord. He is Savior. He is Shepherd. There is
nothing more I shall want.
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