Things Handed Down
17th Sunday of Ordinaty Time - Cycle B
It's obvious to any faithful Catholic that the miracle of the “Gift of First Fruits' in the time of Elisha, and the miracle of the 'Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish' in the gospel reading are precursors for the institution of the Holy Eucharistic – the precious gift of Christ's Body and Blood. Since Fr. Dan will be giving a series of homilies on the Eucharist, I'd like to take this opportunity to look at a different aspect of today's readings.
I'll begin by reading the lyrics to a tender and touching song. It was written by Mark Cohn and is entitled “The Things We Handed Down”. It's a story of a man in a somewhat strained relationship who is on the verge of becoming a father. As he sits in his chair, perhaps looking at his pregnant wife, he wonders what the child will be and what it will become. He wonders what kind of father he will be, what kind of relationship they will have, how the child will affect their marriage, and what traits they will pass on. Listen to the lyrics – the ponderings of this expectant father's heart.
Don't know much about you, Don't know who you are,
We've been doing fine without you. But, we could only go so far,
Don't know why you chose us, Were you watching from above?
Is there someone there that knows us, Said we'd give you all our love.
Will you laugh just like your mother? Will you sigh like your old man?
Will some things skip a generation? Like I've heard they often can.
Are you a poet or a dancer? A devil or a clown?
Or a strange new combination of the things we've handed down?
I wonder who you'll look like , Will your hair fall down and curl?
Will you be a mama's boy? Or daddy's little girl?
Will you be a sad reminder, Of what's been lost along the way?
Maybe you can help me find her, In the things you do and say.
And these things that we have given you, They are not so easily found.
But you can thank us later, For the things we've handed down
You may not always be so grateful, For the way that you were made
Some feature of your father's, That you'd gladly sell or trade.
And one day you may look at us, And say that you were cursed,
But over time that line has been Extremely well rehearsed,
By our fathers, and their fathers, In some old and distant town,
From places no one here remembers Come the things we've handed down.1
We hear a lot in today's political discussions about establishing a legacy. Generally, such talk is more self serving than reality. It's an effort to put a shine on the things done well and polish over those that have failed. I suppose that's human nature: an effort to bring meaning to our lives and to think of ourselves as successful.
What's so different about this song is that it seeks such a realistic view. It truly seeks honest expectations. The father knows from his own experience that there will be times of joy and times of discord, honorable traits that are passed on and faults that are too well learned.
The truth, whether we realize it or not, is that we all have a legacy. We all have things we pass down: genetic traits, experiences, personality characteristics, attitudes, beliefs and prejudices. The lyrics of this song challenge us, and remind us, to take an in-depth view of our behaviors, our real influence on others, to differentiate what is important from what is trivial, and to examine what our actual legacy is. What is it that we are really passing down?
In today's readings two people make a seemingly insignificant gift: a man brings bread to Elisha, and a young boy gives his lunch to Jesus. Two insignificant acts by most standards, two gestures of little consequence, yet they are recorded in Sacred Scripture and honored for all eternity. These gifts, through the intervention of our Lord, become the substance of a miracle, a revelation about the loving care of our Lord, and they prepare the way in establishing a fundamental belief of the Catholic Faith - our belief in the Holy Eucharist.
The man from Baal-shalishah gave from his first fruits, choosing to honor Elisha, the man of God, before meeting his own needs. But he was surprised when Elisha said, "Give it to the people to eat."2 Looking at the people he quickly calculated the enormity of their need and was overpowered by what he saw.
In the gospel passage Philip and Andrew are in an identical situation. Jesus asks Philip, "Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?"3 Jesus asked this even though they were on a mountain and He knew there was no food available. He did this to test His disciples. Scripture tells us that Jesus knew what He was about to do. He wanted to see what His disciples would do. Would they be overwhelmed by the situation, do what they could, or turn to Him?
Philip quickly calculates the situation and responds, "Two hundred days wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little.”4 Philip, in effect, throws up his hands. He concludes that feeding them is impossible. Faced with tremendous need, Philip does nothing.
Andrew then says, "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?"5 Like Philip, Andrew was also overpowered by the enormity of the peoples need. He offers a solution but quickly discounts the effectiveness of any action. Like the man from Baal-shalishah, Andrew judged that a solution was beyond his means. And in other gospel accounts, the disciples' recommendation was to send the people away.
In the gospel of Luke Jesus tells the story of a builder who started to build but failed to finish because he did not calculate the costs. Calculating the cost is a prudent and important step in any plan. However, Philip and Andrew, and the man from Baal-shalishah, didn't realize what was being asked. Jesus wasn't asking for an appraisal. He wasn't asking for a program to feed the poor. He wasn't asking for some grand design to end poverty. He was asking for a simple act of faith and trust! Philip, Andrew, and the other disciples saw the enormity of the people's need, judged it to be impossible, and did nothing.
The solution, of course, came through the faith of a child. He gave his lunch to Jesus. His gift was totally inadequate for the situation, but what gift offered to God is not? “However, it was all Jesus needed to work a miracle … What mattered to Jesus was not the size or value of the gift but the spontaneity with which it was given.”6 Where Philip and Andrew were overwhelmed and paralyzed, the boy saw a need, spontaneously acted in love, and did what little he could do. He gave his lunch to Jesus, and for this he will always be remembered. What a legacy! What a simple faith and trust this child handed down!
The father in our song wonders how he will fare. Will his child feel blessed or cursed? Will his own heart be changed? What traits, taught or inferred, good or bad, will he pass down?
The song calls us to reflect on our own lives. How will we be remembered? What will our legacy be? What traits would we like to hand down? This song reminds us that the most important things we hand down are often intangible – traits, qualities, and behaviors we may not even know we have. The boy who gave his lunch to Jesus acted in spontaneous compassion. He passed down a legacy of grace, faith, kindness, and a complete trust in God. What better legacy could there be! He did what little he could do. What example would better reveal our heart? What will your legacy be? What are the things that you are handing down?
Baruch Hashem!
References
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