Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

I don’t know about you, but I am VERY excited about the Summer Olympic Games that are now underway. Over the past few weeks I have been enjoying different articles and reports on the athletes that will be competing in the Games and now I look forward to seeing how they live out their Olympic dreams.

Whenever I watch the Olympics I can’t help but be amazed by the discipline, the determination, and the skill of the athletes involved. I’m particularly fascinated by athletes who achieve results that were previously deemed impossible, and yet they seem to accomplish their great feat with such ease.

IN THE ZONE

If you watch the Olympics at all over the next two weeks, or if you are a sports fan in general, you will undoubtedly hear one of the sportscasters describe such an athlete as “in the zone.”

I think we automatically know what that phrase means when we hear it. We know it applies to Michael Jordan when he simply could not miss because he was shooting so well – or to a pitcher when he is simply un-hittable and throws a perfect game – or to Tiger Woods almost whenever he swings a club.

Many of you, whether you’re athletes or not, have experienced this sensation for yourself. Being “in the zone” means that we are “immune to pressure, and not worried about outcomes” (Phil Simms about his play in Super Bowl XXI). We are so focused on what we are doing that we seem to be outside of ourselves. We are achieving or succeeding at whatever we’re doing and yet it seems completely effortless.

Psychologists have a term for this phenomenon, they call it “flow.” They say that the experience involves having clear goals, concentration, and focus, but with a loss of the feeling of self-consciousness – and that all these factors lead ultimately to the merging of action and awareness, to the unity of our being and our doing; and that this unity gives us a feeling of “transcendence.”

Now if “transcendence” sounds awfully spiritual, well it is. Sports psychologists point out that this psychology of “flow” is related in theory to the philosophy of Zen Buddhism which seeks to overcome the separation of self and object . . . in other words, “being one with things.” That’s why we teach our children when they’re learning a sport to “be one with the ball.”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

I bring all this up because I think that this is not at all dissimilar to what happens in today’s Gospel – and therefore is not at all dissimilar to our own daily lives.

When Peter sees Jesus walking toward him on the stormy seas he asks that Jesus instruct him to “come to Him.” Jesus says, “come” and Peter walks toward Him on the water. So long as Peter is determined and focused on Jesus, his goal, he is fine. He is “in the zone” – he is outside himself, and is one with the object of his action: Jesus. Peter is thus able to achieve something beyond anyone’s wildest imaginations because he participates in Jesus’ divine life.

But as soon as Peter stops focusing solely on Jesus; when he loses his focus and turns and notices the wind and the seas, he falls “out of the zone” and all his success turns to failure. He starts to sink back into the waters of sin and chaos that he had just been striding over with ease.

This entire Gospel is an image for our own lives as well. Whenever Peter and the disciples are in the boat you can be sure we are talking about us, the Church, sailing over the stormy waters of history.
And just as He did that night on the sea, Jesus comes to us in the midst of our turbulent lives and says: “It is I; be not afraid.”

Like Peter, we yearn for communion with Jesus, we want to go out to meet Him. Maybe, for a time, we succeed at keeping Jesus as the focus of our lives – and like Peter we seem to succeed with ease. But like Peter, we eventually slip and loose our focus, loose our single-mindedness.

We turn our gaze from Jesus and begin to put our trust and confidence in someone or something else. We begin to hope and trust less in Jesus and more in the latest guru or philosophy, in the latest technology or social movement, the in the latest politician or policy.

And when any of these things, or perhaps worst of all our own egos, replace Jesus Christ as the center of our focus, then like Peter we too sink back into the waters of chaos. We loose the peace that Jesus is able to restore to the waters of the sea, and the waters of our life’s journey.

DISCIPLINE

So, how is it that we can increase our focus? How can we grow in our ability to place Jesus Christ at the center of our lives so that we can develop His divine life within us and with Him walk victoriously over the waters of sin, failure, fear, hatred, and violence.

Think back with me to the athletes I mentioned earlier. They are only capable of achieving “flow,” of achieving a moment of transcendence, when their concentration is honed by discipline. They practice for endless hours, repeating over and over again the task of their sport, until they have so internalized their movement that their effort and their being are one.

Only by discipline will we be able to grow in our ability to keep Jesus Christ at the center of our lives and become one with Him who is our goal. This, in fact, is precisely what the saints show us by their lives. The saints are, in the words of St. Paul, those victors who have run the race, finished the course, competed well and won the prize of Jesus Christ their Lord.

We too are destined to be saints, and will be, if we but make the choices, the sacrifices, undergo the discipline that holiness requires.

Sadly, our modern culture isn’t particularly high on discipline. We tend to think that discipline stifles and restricts human freedom. We recognize that discipline is hard work and that it takes time and frankly, we would rather have instant gratification. We are, after all, a culture of instant messaging, of “buy now, pay later” – and this is simply not the way of discipline.

SILENCE

We have to buck the popular trend and grow in discipline if we want to grow in holiness and experience the peace that comes from having Jesus Christ at the center of our life. So what practices, what “exercise” routines and habits can we cultivate in our lives to help us grow in discipline and faith?

There are obviously hundreds of good answers to this question, from the study of Holy Scripture, to the practice of charity. But for today I want to focus briefly on just one discipline that is suggested to us in today’s readings.

I mentioned earlier the philosophy of Zen Buddhism. I’m often amazed at how many people in our society today, everyone from Christians to atheists, have become enamored by all things Zen.

I don’t think it’s an “accident that . . . people are seeking techniques of meditation, are seeking a spirituality for emptying the mind. One of our deepest needs is clearly making its presence felt. . .” (Pope Benedict XVI). Humanity needs and yearns for the discipline of silence.

And of course this deep need is manifesting itself more and more: our modern world has become such a cacophony of noise that we have almost forgotten what silence is, and have thus come almost to fear it. We fill every waking minute of our days with radio in the car, iPods in our ears, cell phones ringing, 24-hour TV news talking in the background of everything.

But as we learn from our first reading, from the experience of Elijah on the mountain, God’s voice can only be heard in the still “tiny whisper” of silence. It is only in silence that can we find ourselves and find God and experience the transcendence of wedding ourselves to the divine life.

While we fill our lives with more and more noise and thereby push God out of more and more areas of our lives, God is all the while inviting us into the silent peace of His presence. Friends, we need not turn to Buddhism in order to learn how to grow in this discipline of silence. Christ’s own example, and the lives of all the saints show us how to develop a life of personal silent prayer, even in the midst of busy active lives, and thus grow in holiness.

Amidst the craziness and busyness of your daily life can you commit to disciplining yourself enough to practice silence? Can you start by finding even just five or ten minutes in your day to silence all the noise of your life, even the noise of your own thoughts, and focus solely on Jesus Christ and listen for His voice?

Turn the radio off in the car. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sit in the tub. Better yet, come to Eucharistic Adoration and sit, even for a little while, before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Whatever it takes, find some way, any way, to discipline your mind and heart through silent attention to God’s voice.

Though I too struggle with this discipline, I am thoroughly convinced that the more we practice silence, the more we will experience the love of Jesus Christ as the center of our lives, and know the peace and the courage that He wants to give us.