A  QUESTION: 

WHO  DO  YOU  SAY  I  AM?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 24 Sunday in Ordinary Time [B] is, “A Question: Who Do You Say I Am?”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

In today’s gospel Jesus asks that question to his disciples.

Listen again to how today’s gospel reading for us begins, “Jesus and his disciples set out for the villages of Caesarea Philippi. Along the way he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that I am?’ They said in reply, ‘John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others one of the prophets.’ And he asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Peter said to him in reply, ‘You are the Christ.’ Then he warned them not to tell anyone about him.”

Strange scene. Strange story. Strange comment.

Jesus asks each of us here today that same question. That’s why it’s here. We need to hear that question: “Who do you say that I am?”

It’s Sunday. I suggest as you walk along  - as you drive along - the days of this week, hear Jesus asking you that question: “Who do you say that I am?”

CROAGH PATRICK - JOHN F. DEANE

By total coincidence I picked up again the other day the Irish Magazine, Ireland of the Welcomes. I had bought it at Barnes and Noble in June.

One of the articles was about a guy who climbed a mountain to make the Croagh Patrick Pilgrimage. A million people make that climb every year. It’s only 4.3 miles long - but it’s a good day’s climb - up and back.

I remembered a moment - years ago - standing there in Westport - County Mayo, Ireland - and looking up at that mountain - but didn’t climb it. I saw the big hand carved - some well-polished - walking sticks. I know a priest who had made that climb - that pilgrimage - and did it - and told me about the grace of that experience. It’s considered the holiest mountain in Ireland.

We didn’t have time. We had to get back on the bus. We had to hit the road, Jack. We had to keep moving.

I looked out the bus window and felt some kind of longing to climb that mountain. I had climbed a bunch of peaks in New Hampshire - parts of the presidential range. I had climbed a few mountains in the Rockies - so I knew the feeling mountains give off: Climb me.

The writer of the article was by the Irish poet, John F. Deane. Sorry to say I had never heard of him.

He tells his story. In 2011 - age 68 - he bought a stout ash stick and started the climb. It was September. It could be cold. He had good climbing boots, warm clothing, and a plastic mac in case of rain. It rains in Ireland at times.

He had a small backpack with water, biscuits and a bar of chocolate.

He paused at the first station - a big whitewashed statue of St. Patrick - with his hand raised in blessing. John Deane said he stood there and prayed. He said he spoke the name of Jesus “to the soft air of the morning and listened, to the world about me, the distant ocean, the fields, the clouds, the sheep.” Then he wrote, “It was as if the voice of Christ were asking: Who do you say that I am?”

I had read that article just last Sunday - and surprise - that’s the question in today’s gospel - this Sunday.

And I was thinking about John Deane’s words all week - a week I went to a class reunion - of classmates - who were ordained 50 years ago - in 1965.

Who did we say Christ was these past 50 years?

Since John Dean said, “September” and “2011” I was wondering if he had gone to Mass on that morning  - and heard this reading -  and then made his climb. I don’t know - but as I read more about John Deane - I think the answer is no - because this seems to be his lifetime question.

As he climbed - as his article continued - I hear him asking himself that question over and over again. He gets the idea to ask the poets of Ireland to write poems to answer that question. He wonders if he’d be laughed at if he did. He decides that when he gets back he’ll ask the famous Anglican bishop, Rowan Williams, about his idea of his.

The answer to that question is not in the article.

But answers to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” are all through the article.

Then when I started to do some beginning research on John F. Deane I discovered that this poet - who had thought about being a priest - has been asking and answering that question about who Jesus is - all through his life - especially in his poems.

And he is not scared - or hesitant - to write many a poem about Jesus - to an Ireland that has  become for many - Post Catholic - and for some Post Christian.

The priest scandal - and so much more - has not helped - the Catholic faith of the Catholic Ireland.

POETIC ANSWERS TO THE QUESTION

In a 2010 poem, Shoemaker, that won him first prize in a poetry contest, John Deane writes about a quiet shoemaker who sees the whole world like through the eye of a needle. The shoemaker sees Christ - the walking the roads of Galilee and Ireland - and  the world Christ, who sees everything telling us everything  - the swallows in the skies - the leather of one’s shoes - the wind singing - the scenes of people on the roads  - bread, wine, water, the rains - the windshield wipers, noise music, Christ everywhere.

CONCLUSION

This week - for homework, for heartwork, for holiness work, work on the question, “Who do you say that I am?”

I think we have to ask that of ourselves - who we are -  and of others - who they are -  but save those questions for other climbs - other pilgrimages -

other mountains - other weeks.

But this week, answer that question from Christ: Who do you say that I am?