A Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Readings: Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 Luke 5:1-11
I have a shelf-load of her novels. They are about ordinary (but slightly fey) folk, both native and immigrant, who populate the forests and the plains to the west of Minneapolis. The Mighty Red (2024), Louise Erdrich’s newest novel, is set among the sugar beet farmers of North Dakota.
It’s a story of multiple marriages in distress. Mistakes have a way of multiplying. And one of those marriages begins for the worst of reasons. Gary, the groom, is trying to escape a tragedy, and the bride, Kismet, hasn’t yet fully claimed her own agency.
Here’s Kismet, admitting to her mother Crystal that she’s engaged.
Her mother was sitting in the living room staring at the door, so when Kismet got off work that night and walked inside there was no escape.
Are you engaged to Gary Geist?
Kismet shook her head, shifted her eyes. “Noooooo.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I, well…I had too much peach schnapps, Mom.”
Crystal turned away, squeezing her eyes shut.
“God. Kismet.”
There was a space of growing dismay between them.
“You can’t get married. You’ve applied to colleges. Kismet! I raised you better!”
“I know,” said Kismet, sinking onto the couch. “I’ll talk to Gary and call it off. But you know, Mom, he really loves me.”
Crystal brought her head up and looked into Kismet’s eyes.
“A lot of men are going to love you, Kismet. Hugo already loves you too.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“By not being stupid. Look, just go tell Gary it’s off. You’re too young. He’ll be okay.”
“Okay, I’ll call it off,” said Kismet.
And she tried, she really did, she tried.
There’s the first lesson, about consciously making decisions rather than allowing them—or peach schnapps—to make us.
But there is a deeper issue for Christians. Do we believe, as the Scriptures speak today, that God calls us?
There is a lot in that simple assertion, “God calls us.” Do we really believe that God has a will and a plan for our lives? We see plenty of “God is my co-pilot” bumper stickers, but—let’s be honest—most of us, most of the time, live out our days as though all decisions were ours to make, as though God did not care to be so deeply involved in our lives.
God calls us. God has a plan for our lives, but we must decide whether we are going to make our own decisions or discern the call, the initiative, of God.
Belief in divine providence, that God has a plan for our lives, is like most of our beliefs. We readily assent in theory, but it takes a lifetime to live as though we truly believe. Before we move on to how and when God calls to us, resolve to ask yourself regularly, do I really believe God has a plan for my life? Do I believe that I have a responsibility to discern that plan?
How and when will God call to us?
To begin, do not await a vision. God is generally smoother, less intrusive than that. As the playwright Robert Bolt once put onto the lips of St. Thomas More, “God made the angels to show Him splendor, as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man He made to serve Him wittily, in the tangle of his mind.” The mind is a tangle to us. To God, it’s a tapestry.
Normally, God’s desire for our lives will come in the way of a notion, an idea that repeatedly crops up into consciousness. This is true whether the issue is one’s fundamental vocation in life or the hundreds of significant decisions we make in any given year: Should I volunteer? Should I let go of this relationship, or should I try again? Should I take this course of treatment? Should I retire?
Of course, the problem is that intuitions, insights, come terribly tangled. And they arrive swaddled in emotions, which often pull us in contrary directions.
Here is an insight from St. Ignatius Loyola on the discernment of spirits, in this case, the emotions: Do not expect to learn from them in times of distress. As more than one saint has said, following negative emotions makes the devil your spiritual director. Why? Because the only thing the evil spirit needs to do to turn you from your good resolutions is to send negative experiences your way.
Negative experiences do not mean that you are not doing God’s will. They only mean that this will is sometimes hard. In Erdrich’s novel, both Gary and his parents race into marriage with Kismet to escape a painful past. They are not being called to something good; they are fleeing something painful.
On the other hand, pay attention to your emotions when you feel close to God, when you are experiencing what St. Ignatius would call a “supernatural consolation.” Isaiah sees seraphim when God calls him. Simon Peter and his friends witness a small miracle, and then Peter hears Jesus say, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men” (Lk 5:10).
For those of us who do not see seraphim or regularly witness miracles, God still sends supernatural consolations our way, but these grace-filled emotions are more likely to look like this: You are praying and feel at peace. You are astounded at some blessing God has sent your way. You are overwhelmed by a beauty you alone can see. These are the times to listen to your emotions. These are emotions that can be trusted. This is when you need to ask, what does God want of me?
I cannot count how many times I decided to leave the seminary. At least, I thought that I had decided. But I learned early enough to listen to my heart when God was nearby. After spending a silent hour in front of the Blessed Sacrament, I just could not do it. Fears, like all emotions, come and go. It was the peace at the end of the hour that counted. That was the time to ask what God wanted.
Poor Kismet! The spirits found in a bottle of peach schnapps are of no help. It is the Spirit who comes in times of consolation who guides us. Again, the first and foundational question is this: Do you truly believe that God has a plan for your life? If so, you are ready to listen the next time your spirit takes flight.
