A Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Readings: 1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19 1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20 John 1:35-42
Have you ever wished that God would tell you what is expected of you, what God wants? Why can’t God just come out and say it, the way God does in the Scriptures?
But look again at those Scriptures—no one in them anxiously awaits the voice of God. Indeed, our biblical heroes are not shown wondering why God has not spoken to them. Instead, they have learned to dwell.
Just before Samuel is called, we are told:
During the time young Samuel
was minister to the Lord under Eli,
the word of the Lord was scarce
and vision infrequent (1 Sm 3:1).
Yet Samuel is not described as being anxious about the failure of prophecy. He does not lose sleep over it. No, this young priest loses sleep because he is caring for Eli, a blind, older priest. Samuel gets up three times in the night, not to hear God speak to him but to minister to the needs of the old man whom he attends.
The Lord called to Samuel,
who answered, “Here I am.”
He ran to Eli and said,
“Here I am. You called me” (1 Sm 3:5, 6 & 8).
Young Samuel is not dwelling upon God’s absence, God’s silence. He is dwelling in his duties.
And in John’s Gospel, we do not meet disciples who are stumped by God’s silence. Not at all. Andrew and his brother are content to learn what they can from the one whom God has already given to them: the Baptist. The voice they hear does not descend from the heavens. As Jesus passes by, it is John the Baptist who says to them—and not in a way that would forestall any questioning—“Behold the Lamb of God” (Jn 1:36).
The young priest Samuel is doing nothing more glorious than caring for an old priest, Eli. Andrew and his brother are learning what they can from whomever they can. These men are not anxiously awaiting God’s voice. No, they are dwelling in their duties as they understand them.
The first words that our Lord speaks in John’s Gospel are addressed to Andrew and his brother. They are not, at least not immediately, words of revelation. No, Jesus poses a question: “What are you looking for?” (Jn 1:38).
Are they startled to be in his sights? Is that why they stammer, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”
Perhaps, on one level, but the verb John uses here, μένω / menō, is so significant in his Gospel. It can be translated “stay,” “remain,” “abide” or “dwell.”
Jesus uses the same verb to speak of his intimate relationship with his Father.
“The Father who dwells in me is doing his works” (μένων / menōn) (Jn 14:10).
“If you keep my commandments,
you will remain in my love (μενεῖτε / meneite),
just as I have kept my Father’s commandments
and remain in his love” (μένω / menō) (Jn 15:10).
Jesus reveals himself to his disciples simply by calling them to stay with him, to remain in him, to dwell with him. Here in such simple words, “Come and you will see” (Jn 1:39), but more solemnly later in this Gospel:
As the Father loves me,
so I also love you.
Remain in my love (μείνατε / meinate) (Jn 15:9).
So if you are frustrated by God’s silence, learn to dwell, to abide. Your error lies in thinking that God is not attentive to you, that God is not watching, that God is not forever pouring out God’s presence.
God is already speaking to you in your situation, in the duties you have been given, or—to employ our verb—in the place where you dwell.
Look again at your daily life, and do not overlook your web searches. Ponder the people in your life right now. Where have you been dwelling these past few weeks? How have you spent your time?
None of these elements entered your life without your involvement, your willingness. They correspond to what you desire in life, and it is in our deep desires—as hard as those are truly to discern and even though they may require purification—that God reveals himself to us.
What does Jesus say to his first disciples?
“What are you looking for?” (Jn 1:38).
He poses the same question to us.
“What are you looking for?” (Jn 1:38).
Consciously or not, we dwell in our desires. And desires are not listless; they are directed. They lead us to life or to death.
The question is whether or not our desires dwell in the Lord. If not, they are already consuming us, eating away at the self that thought it was determining its desires.
If they do dwell in the Lord, or if we can give our desires to him, they will lead us on. Trust in that. Longing is of God. Longing is an experience of God. Learn to dwell in the longing.
