Sunday Homily, August 4, 2013, 18th Ordinary Time C
Readings:
Ecclesiastes 1, 2; 21-23, All things are vanity.
Psalm 90, If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.
Colossians 3, 1-5, 9-11 Seek what is above.
Luke 12, 13-21, You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you.
Ecclesiastes Observations:
Author: unknown. A belief was that it was Solomon
Date:
250-150 years before Christ.
Subject:
the work is a putting together of a lot of folk sayings and life
observations which represent wisdom sometimes, sometimes not. For instance, today’s selection.
Today:
pretty pessimistic. It says that
everything is vanity.
Colossians
observations: We are done with this work for now,
fortunately.
Best line of
the Day: check the Psalm, the 4th stanza, “Fill us at daybreak with
your kindness, that we may shout for joy and gladness all our days.” This has been my experience the past week in
Iowa. More in the homily.
Fill us at daybreak with
your kindness
Fill me
at daybreak with your kindness, that I may shout for joy and gladness.
This was Iowa, folks.
If you
don’t know what this is all about it is this.
Sunday, July 21st, Chris and I set out on our bikes with an
estimated crowd at times of 35,000 riders.
We departed the west side if Iowa at the Missouri River and finished at
the east side and the Mississippi River 7 days later, Saturday.
The
whole experience really touched my spirit, but let me single out three special
events, hospitality, trust, and beauty.
First, hospitalty. Most of
the nights on the ride my team, Spokes of Hope, a cancer support team from
Indianapolis, found homes at which we could set up tents in the yard. This was a little more private.
One
family in Oskaloosa, the next to the last night, knocked me out. They had a nice big 5-9 acre lot with two
houses for the family. They hosted about
80 people, Spokes of Hope and Livestrong, Lance Armstrong’s former cancer
program.
When we
arrived they had spread out on their deck chips and dip and drinks. At 5:00 they themselves served us all an
enormous dinner. The next morning they
sent us on our way with a great breakfast.
All gratis, no charge. Hospitality.
In Des
Moines a widow of about 6 months invited our 14 member team into her nice
house. She is a doctor and teaches at
the local medical school.
She,
also, fixed us all a big dinner and a big breakfast. She sent us on our way with a few dozen
chocolate chip cookies and brownies. The
Indianapolis folks are probably still eating those cookies. All
gratis, no charge. Hospitality.
Next, trust. Never did I fear my bike would be
stolen. In the small towns where it was
impossible to ride because of the mass of people, bikes were dropped
everywhere. In fact, the problem was
remembering, “Wow, where is my bike?”
One
afternoon I rode up to a Tom Thumb type grocery store that had an $8 all you
can eat pasta & dessert sale. This
was in the last overnight town on the road, Fairfield. I remember hesitating at first. My bike.
Lots of people around. Plus lots
of bikes. I left my bike with my helmet & gloves hanging from the handlebar. An hour
later it was right there along with all the other bikes & bikers. The trust, everywhere.
Finally,
the beauty. Don’t believe the idea that Iowa is flat. It is not mountainous, okay. It is hilly.
This trip had lots of hills and lots of scenic vistas, plus beautiful little towns. Once
I must confess at the end of a day 110 miles long I had to walk a hill, my
thigh muscles saying they just might like to cramp. I learned prudence from Rosemary.
There
were a number of occasions when the hospitality, the trust, and the beauty, to
not even mention my gratitude at being able to do this, just touched me to
tears as I rode peacefully along. Which
made me say to myself, “Watch out, man, you can’t see and you will crash.”
This is
the psalm line exemplified, “Fill us at daybreak with your kindness, that we
may shout for joy and gladness all our days.”
How is
it for you?
