1 Sm 3:3b-10, 19 / 1 Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20 / Jn 1:35-42
A very young new priest was preparing to deliver his first sermon and he was scared. So he asked the old monsignor for help. “I always start with a story,” said the old fellow, “or a catchy line like this: ‘My dear FRIENDS, I’ve spent some of my best years in the arms of a woman!’ Then you pause a moment and add, ‘my MOTHER.'”
“Wow, that’s a terrific idea!” said the young priest. “I’ll try that on Sunday.” And so he did.
My dear friends,” he told the congregation, “I’m Fr. Mike, your new priest, and I’d like to tell you a little about myself. First of all, I’ve spent some of my best years in the arms of a woman!”
With that the congregation froze in horror: What had the bishop sent them? The young priest panicked and then blurted out, “But I can’t remember who she was!”
+ + +
“Who are YOU?” that congregation must have been asking. And that’s the same question the apostles were asking Jesus in Sunday’s Gospel — though not in quite the same tone of voice!
Where do you stay?” they asked. But what they really meant was, “Who are you, Jesus? There’s something about you that makes us think that you’re different, that you know what life is really about, and that you can show US. Is that true? Do you have something to show us?”
That’s exactly what we say to him time and again as we pass from one stage of life to another and face new doors to be opened and old doors to be closed. And Jesus always responds to us as he did to his apostles: “Come and see … Come and see.”
“If you’ll let me,” he says, “if you’ll trust me enough to let me guide you, I can show you the way out of the darkest places. I can give you the power to confront your deepest fears. I can heal your heart as you close old doors. And I can give you the heart to walk through new ones. I can do all that for you if you let me, if you entrust your whole heart to my care.”
At every stage and moment of our life Jesus speaks those words to us anew, inviting us to re-imagine our lives in a richer shape, inviting us to let go of what doesn’t matter and to embrace what does. “Come and see,” he says, holding out his hand.
And slowly, hesitantly, we reach out. And even though we don’t know where it will lead, we take his hand, and we let him show us the way home.
He knows the way. Come and see!
