2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (B) – January 14, 2024

St. Paul – Lyons, KS

1 Samuel 3:3b-10, 19; Psalm 40:2, 4, 7-10; 1 Corinthians 6:13c-15a, 17-20; John 1:35-42

Cello Playing: What is it about?

I think I’ve said before, I spent a lot of time when I was younger on music: playing cello, going to rehearsals, lessons, masterclasses; watching countless videos of other cellists, listening to recordings, and studying music. And of course I had people I tried to emulate—like Yo Yo Ma, Jacqueline du Pré, and Rostropovich—and I tried to match their level of playing. Technical perfection, that was my goal.

At the height of it all, I had a lesson with this crazy Polish cellist. And when I finished playing, he just sat there for a second. Then he complimented me on my playing, on my technique and tone, and he even asked me if I had copied some of Yo Yo Ma’s interpretation. And I was like, “Why yes I did. Thanks for noticing!”

But then he got serious. He sat down, looked at me, and he asked, “What does this music stir up in your heart? What effect does it have on you? And how are you communicating this to your audience?” And he asked it in such a way that, even though it wasn’t rhetorical, it quickly became rhetorical—because he knew very well that the music had had no effect on me whatsoever. And so I had to admit it: I had really only focused on playing it perfectly, on emulating others, on matching up to others; I had focused on playing better than everyone else.

And then he said to me, and I’ll never forget—he said: “It’s not about your playing; it’s about your being. The playing, the music, is only a vehicle to the heart, it is a roadway to the heart. People don’t care about your playing; what they want and what they’re looking for is someone who can give them access to their own heart.” Over and over again in my playing, I was just trying to give people a show of technical perfection, to play as well as the great cellists, thinking that was what it was all about. But I had missed the point entirely: what was this music capable of stirring within the heart—my heart, the heart of the people listening? Because that’s what it’s really about. Music isn’t like gymnastics at the Olympics. It’s something completely different.

Eli the Performer vs. Samuel the Prophet

The reason I bring up this example is because of the dynamic at work in our first reading; we have this very famous scene, usually referred to as the “Call of Samuel.” Quick background. So this story happens after the People of God had been in the Promise Land for some time. They leave Egypt, they finally get to the Promise Land, and several generations go by of them settling into the land—generations that aren’t pretty. But then the great narrative of the books of Samuel begins, these books about the arrival of the king in Israel, King David. Samuel is the forerunner, he is the prophet that goes before the king. Ok, at this point in the story, Samuel is a young boy, living in the Temple under the care of the Eli the priest. And our reading didn’t include it (it just assumes you know), but listen to the first part of that chapter on Samuel. The chapter begins, “During the time young Samuel was minister to the LORD under Eli, a revelation from the LORD was scarce and vision infrequent. …[Eli’s] eyes had lately grown so weak that he could not see.” Ok, so what’s going on. Well, the chapter is telling us the issue, the dynamic at work: there is a contrast between Eli and Samuel. 

Eli is the priest. He is the religious establishment. He is the one mediating between God and the people. But what’s the issue? “A revelation from the LORD was scarce and vision infrequent.” Stay for that for a moment. Where is God? Everywhere. Where is God speaking? Everywhere, in all things. So how come a revelation, a word of the Lord was infrequent, how come a vision from the Lord was so rare? Because He stopped talking? No. Because the people had stopped listening; Israel, the People of God had stopped listening. See, the problem here is not God. The problem here is Eli, and consequently the people as well. Eli was no longer attuned to the voice of the Lord—he did the sacrifices, kept the lamps lit, did all the things he was supposed to do, went through the motions—but it was empty. Ok, so notice: technically, he was doing things right, performing the religious duties to perfection, but he had missed the crucial part: listening, the engagement of the heart. And that’s reflected in his physical life. We’re also told what? “Eli’s eyes had grown weak.” A physiological problem (yeah), but also a symbolic observation: he is the priest, the prophet, the seer of Israel…who can’t see. He is “performing” to technical perfection, but missing the point entirely.

And what’s the point? To encounter the Lord, to hear his word, to see him, to have our lives changed by what the Lord is doing, responding to his presence encountered in the heart.

Ok, and so what is the other side of this? Samuel. Samuel is the child who hears the voice of the Lord. Again, don’t just hear that as, “Samuel, a young kid,” but, “Samuel, the one of childlike openness, openness to God, one who can hear.” Do you see the contrast? Eli is just checking off the boxes, doing what he has to do—technical perfection—but missing the point entirely. Samuel is the child, open and listening—listening in the heart—and experiencing the Lord in a powerful way. And don’t we all want that? Don’t you want that?

Prayer: Access to the Heart, the Place of Encounter

As you saw in the bulletin last week, and as you read of the Christmas letter, and even on social media, we are beginning a “Year of Prayer.” 2024 is dedicated to prayer. And not only here, but universally. In 2025, the Church will celebrate a Jubilee Year. But Pope Francis has asked that 2024 be a year of prayer. Why? Because it is in prayer that we encounter the Lord in the depths of our heart. So this isn’t just “saying more prayers,” no. Pope Francis said it this way, a “Prayer that makes it possible for every man and woman in this world to turn to the one God and to reveal to him what lies hidden in the depths of their heart. Prayer as the royal road to holiness, which enables us to be contemplative even in the midst of activity.” Very different than “saying prayers.”

We live in a hyper secularized time. Read the stats, they are not encouraging. The fastest growing religion in the U.S.A. are the “nones”: 25% of people in the country say their religion is “none.” The most common religion in the U.S. is, “I used to be Christian.” For every one person who joins the Church, six are leaving. Listen to how thoroughly secularized our culture is becoming, all the craziness. And every reference to God being blotted out. But again, think: Is God gone? Did he abandon us? Or have have forgotten how to listen? Have forgotten how to see? Are we no longer attuned to the voice of God? So yeah, of course people leave. We’re here, we’re doing the religious things—but I keep hearing from many of you: “A revelation from the LORD is scarce and vision infrequent.” We don’t seem to hear the voice of God, we don’t experience this.

So I think this year, this Year of Prayer is very important for us. And especially this year, 2024—this election year. And I don’t mean we need to “pray for the soul of the country.” No. No no no. I mean that we need to learn to pray, to really, truly and deeply pray. I don’t know if you remember 2020, but one of the reasons that 2020 became such a mess was that people filled their minds and their hearts with 24/7 news channels, said prayers like magic incantations that their candidate would win. Like Eli, our “eyes grew weak,” we missed God’s voice.

Prayer, true prayer, isn’t just going to Mass, saying our rosary, saying prayers in some technical way trying to get God to notice us and answer us. Prayer, true prayer, is something that gives us access to our heart—and there, in the heart, we encounter the Lord.And before you tell me this sounds really new age-y, this is just the Catechism. The Church teaches that the heart “is the place of encounter” (2563). So, we can be like Eli or we can be like Samuel; we can focus on technically doing things right (saying prayers, not missing Mass, checking off the boxes), or we can encounter him; a deep, personal, life-changing encounter; an encounter at the level of the heart. What changed the lives of Andrew and John in the Gospel today wasn’t that they did things technically perfect, nope. One day Jesus came walking along, and they encountered him. And they didn’t just see him, they stayed with him. That’s what they asked, that’s what they did: “Where are you staying? …and they stayed with him.” That’s what changed their life! Staying.

Reconnecting…

And so on January 28, we’re going to begin our new series. You remember “Rerouting…” last year? That was a deep dive into the kerygma, the basics, the fundamentals of our Faith. This year we’re doing “Reconnecting…” (I love my “R” words). “Reconnecting…” is going to be ten weeks (leading up to Easter Sunday)—ten weeks all about prayer, deepening our relationship with God through prayer. And even though we’ll talk about some technical things (because those are important), what we are really going to be driving at is what the Church calls “Prayer of the Heart.” Again, not just me teaching you “prayers” and prayers to say. Prayer. Prayer as our lived relationship with God. Prayer that allows us to hear the voice of God, just like young Samuel did. Prayer that allows us to reconnect, and to remain, to stay with the Lord always.

Just like with my cello playing, some of you may have great prayers you pray. And you may pray every day already—great! But, it’s not about your praying; it’s about your being. Praying, prayer, is a vehicle to the heart, it is a roadway to the heart. We want access to our own heart. Because there, the Lord waits for us. There, he stands at the door and knocks, waiting to reveal His presence. And when we finally respond, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening,” we will hear the voice of the One who has been waiting for us.