Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time: The Power of the Word

In today’s Gospel, Jesus sends his Apostles (meaning, “one who is sent”) with only the bare necessities: sunscreen, GPS, walkie-talkies and a WWJD bracelet but not much else. He wants to strengthen their trust, but also to ensure that all they really need is the power and presence of his word.

On one hand we might say that the word of God is a weightless reality. Even though we capture it in sense, putting it into the printed form we call a Bible, the word is more ethereal than that. It's a living word, more than just words in print.

On the other hand, the word is indeed heavy. Certainly, when we look at it in its printed form, or get lost in the myriad of obscure names of people and places, and the confusing historical time-lines. We might even find it heavy because of the demands that it places on us, some of which seem unrealistic, and many of which are demands we wouldn’t place on ourselves. 

So, what is the Bible? On one hand, we would say it’s a collection of 73 books, written in a few different languages, representing a broad span centuries, literary styles and experiences of the authors and the people of their time. Yet it has underlying elements that unify all those realities.

At a cursory glance, it might seem bizarre and even unreliable, telling us about talking serpents, a burning bush, a boat so big it held every type of animal, and even God-man who walked on water. But when one begins to go deeper, one tends to find something meaningful, something worth considering and even learning from.

I was given a Bible when I was a young man and often told myself that one day I would dig-in and start reading it. Every time I tried, I quickly was bogged-down by the archaic language. But I continued to believe, that somehow there was something I needed to encounter and understand from the Bible. It wasn't until, as a young man, someone I cared about became sick. I wanted to pray for them, yet realized I didn't really know how to pray, nor did I have and understanding of the God to whom I would be praying.

A friend of mine, who was an evangelical Christian, helped me first of all, to get a more accessible translation of the Bible and then guided me on how to begin reading. I jumped into it, and everything began to change for me. I went through a span of years, reading and reading more—not just the Bible itself, but also books about Jesus himself, books on biblical history—thirsting to understand.

It was a few years later that I ended up going to Catholic Mass. Prior to that, I had gone to Mass perhaps ten times in my life, and never really got it. But after the years of Scripture reading, I saw the Mass with a new set of eyes. I still didn't understand the Mass, but I knew something meaningful and beautiful what's happening in it, and further, as a student of the Bible, I was intrigued by how many Bible readings were read.

I returned the following week and the weeks that followed, bringing my Bible with me to read along with the Scripture readings. If I didn't stand-out as an outsider already, bringing my own Bible and reading along would have done the trick.

I remember learning the Second Vatican Council teaching, that Christ is present in the Mass in four distinct ways, and among those, “He is present in His word, since it is He Himself who speaks when the holy scriptures are read in the Church” (SC, 7). In fact, the Liturgy of the Word can be understood as a dialogue between God and his people: in the first reading he speaks to us, and in the responsorial psalm we sing back to Him. In the second reading he speaks to us and in the Gospel Acclamation we sing back to Him. And in the Gospel, to which we give reverence by standing at attention, Christ speaks to us.

But perhaps it’s necessary to say that it’s not just enough to be here as he speaks. We have to desire to hear, to understand and to act. It’s a living word. As Christians, we know that what God intends to say in the Scriptures is not arbitrary.

I recently heard the question asked about us and our Bibles:

·        What would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat our cell phones?

·        If we carried it around in our purses or pockets?

·        What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?

·        What if we flipped through it several times a day?

·        If we used it to receive messages from its text?

·        What if we treated it like we couldn't live without it?

·        What if we gave it to our kids as gifts?

·        What if we used it as we traveled and kept it close to us in case of emergency?

When we consider that like the Apostles, Jesus sends us out, to share him and the power of his word, we must remember that we cannot give to another, what we ourselves have not truly received and cultivated. There must be a deeper engagement than just this: whether it’s breaking open these readings with others in your life or digging into a study Bible. Whether it’s employing Lectio Divina or Scripture meditation. Beguiling and challenging as it probably could be then, and can be for us now. But there’s something in there that’s waiting for us, and something for which our restless hearts long.