"PLEASE,  SIR, 

I WANT SOME MORE."

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Please, Sir, I Want Some More.”

Most of us know the famous scene in Oliver Twist - the book by Charles Dickens - or we know the movie or musical version - the scene when Oliver walks up to the man in the workhouse who is serving food, and says, “Please, Sir, I Want Some More.”

Oliver is chosen by lot - to be the one - the one who would step up and stand out and go up and ask for more food - "food glorious food" - as the song in Oliver,  the musical,  puts it. The kids in the workhouse - orphanage - are starving.

They get just one ladle of thin gruel - food -  3 times a day - 2 onions per week - and a half a roll of bread on Sunday. That certainly doesn't sound so glorious - but to a hungry stomach - it might just be "Food glorious food!"

Because Oliver stands up and speaks out,  he’s hit. He’s also put in detention. Then a sign is posted outside the house of detention. “Does anyone want to buy a servant?”

And as a result, Oliver is sold into slavery as a servant.

It also ends up being Oliver’s way to freedom - eventually.

The gist of the story - is that Oliver Twist - is everyone of us.

All of us stand there with bowl in hand - and we are starving for more.

TODAY IS THE FEAST OF CORPUS CHRISTI

Today as you know from the readings is the feast of Corpus Christi.

Today on this Feast of Corpus Christi, all of us with hands in the shape of a bowl - stand here on this planet  begging for more.

We beg for food, for love, for acknowledgement, recognition, a place in the line - a place at the table - a place in the sun - a ticket to freedom - a “Ticket to Ride” as the Beatles sang it.

We are starving for family, for fun, for faith, for hope, for charity, for meaning - and some would say: “Down, down deep we’re hungry for a down deep connection with God.”

That fits in with a statement I once heard on an Alcoholics Anonymous Retreat that I was part of in Michigan, “The alcoholic is looking for God at the bottom of a bottle.”

Someone said, “God himself dare not appear to a hungry man except in the form of bread.”

So, it’s no accident that God comes to us as food - for God too is starving for more - for more Love. God is waiting on line for us to be in communion with Him.

After all, God is Love.

As priest I have heard any number of people who came back to Church saying they came back for one reason: "I missed going to communion."

And I could tell when they said that, they realized, they discovered,  that going to communion is not a me-me moment - but an “I-Thou” moment with God.

Me-me doesn’t work in religion or marriage or life. Communion, connection, we’re in this together does work.

God - as Christians know and are told - is Three Persons - so in love They are One. 

And we know that feeling from time to time in the great moments of life - in marriage and family and team - when two, three, four, many are one.

And when we are in communion with God - morning moments on beaches - or night moments looking into a starry night as we see it or as Vincent Van Gogh pictured it in his painting "The Starry Night" - can move us deeply.

Sometimes beauty brings us to God. 

Sometimes it's the beast that does it as well: suffering, not being heard or appreciated as we hear in Don McLean's song, "Vincent", a song about Van Gogh.

However, it takes time - effort - deliberation - reflection - awareness - pausing when we are experiencing the joyful, sorrowful, glorious and light bearing mysteries of life - for us to realize God is in this experience or happening.

We know those moments. We have experienced them. They are marriage moments with the one, one loves - or graduations - or weddings of kids - or anniversaries - or funerals - or cancer moments - or being there at the finish line for someone in the family who runs a marathon and finishes in 4 hours and 15 minutes or what have you - or the whole extended family is there for a kid who has moved on in a Spelling Bee - and a little sister has flowers for her sister in the contest whether she wins of loses and grandma has her box of tissues.

I love it when parents come up the aisle in church at communion time with kid in hand and the kid seeing mom or dad getting the Bread - receiving Jesus - and the kid wants the bread as well.  I’m sure we’ve all seen a kid reach out and then complain or cry - or whine - because she or he didn’t get the bread.

I love it at First Communion time every spring in every church when kids make their First Communion.

"Body of Christ!" "Amen!"

Food glorious food.

I like it at Thanksgiving when there is no kids’ table - when all are at the same table if possible for food - for Thanksgiving Food - for love.

I was the youngest of four and the last to be in the high chair away from the family table - away from eating with the rest - and I also hated the dish rag - that had every smell in the world in it - and it was used to wash loose food off my face. Uggggg.

It’s tough being a child.

Today is the Feast of Corpus Christi - the Body of Christ.

JUNIOR RETREAT

Last Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I  was with 3 bus loads of our St. Mary’s high school junior class on retreat in Malvern, Pennsylvania.

We got there just in time for lunch. It was hamburgers - and chips - cheeseburgers - and the kids must have eaten junk food etc. on the way up on the bus or they weren’t hungry or they were used to Five Guys hamburgers or what have you - and a lot of plates of hamburgers were not eaten.

They didn’t seem to be hungry for hamburgers - or for food - at the moment.

That always gives me a sense of the starving people of China, India, Africa - or wherever our parents thought there were starving kids and we weren’t eating what was in front of us.

I’ve been on lots and lots of high school retreats and the challenge has always been to have kids find out what they are hungry for: notice, not looking stupid, friendships, not feeling alone,  meaning, sense, song, fun, throwing a Frisbee on great green lawns and fields, sunshine on one’s shoulders, laughter, connection - a good time.

I’m always hoping on retreats that glimpses of God come shining through - the desire, a fire, a spark for God - that it’s enkindled.

I am aware that teenagers are in all kinds of places.

I never forget the book, “We Were Never Their Age” - because it stressed listening and not assuming this generation is the same as my generation.

I am also aware of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: that the needs of the world - the needs of every person - are basically the same.

If any of us were in Oliver’s shoes - being a starving kid - or adult - anywhere in the world - we would want to stand up and say, “Please, Sir, I want some more.”

I am always hoping on a teen's retreat - when they are at Mass - or at a talk - or at a serious moment - they will get serious - they will unconsciously remember - if they are Catholics - not all are - what it was like that moment years ago when they reached out their hand and mouth for the Body of Christ - Holy Communion - for the first time.

I’m always hoping at every wedding or funeral that I have - when I know there are lots of people in church - who might not have been in here for the longest time - that a  hunger for God appears -  and is felt.

I hope they whisper at least a whimpering little childlike, “Please, God, I want you more than I have in the last bunch of years.”

CONCLUSION

At the age of 73 - after being a priest all these years - after thousands and thousands of Masses - the Mass makes more and more sense to me.

I also realize we come to many Masses, but we’re not always here. I know I'm not.

We eat thousands and thousands of meals in a life time - but we’re not always hungry.

We talk thousands and thousands of conversations with each other - but we’re not always listening or in communion with each other.

But when we are - when we’re holding each other - after a long time apart - when we’re having a great meal together - when we are at a Mass and it all makes sense - it’s at that moment - that we know the more of life and we want that more.

It’s then we’re like Oliver and we say to God, “Please, Sir, I want some more.”

It’s then we might find ourselves out of slavery and on our way to freedom.

“Please, God, I want some more.”