Today’s gospel tells of Jesus and the apostles needing rest after working with the people. They sought a “deserted place” where they could relax, recover, and then return to their ministry. I was reminded of what Catholic tradition has called a “retreat.” This term refers to one taking time off from their regular schedule and spending time reflecting on their life and asking God for guidance and insight.
When one enters the Society of Jesus, or Jesuits (the religious Order to which I belong), they make what’s known as a “30-day retreat.” Based on what’s known as “the spiritual exercises of Saint Ignatius,” this period offers reflections for one to ponder and draw spiritual strength (just as one does physical “exercises” to acquire physical strength). At the end of their training period, Jesuits make another 30-day retreat—having made 8-day retreats each year. For some years, lay people have made the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius, and even work at retreat houses where they direct anyone who wishes to make a retreat.
Some years back, corporations began to refer to their sales seminars as “retreats.” Over time, businesses now speak of employees going on “retreats”—meaning the employees are being taught how to make more profits for the corporation. Religion has no connection to this use of the word “retreat.” The term has been hijacked from the vocabulary of Catholic spirituality.
More importantly, today’s gospel reminds us of an important element of Christian identity—a trait that makes our identity as Christians a difficult one to live. We’re told that Jesus looked at the “vast crowds” (that’s you and I) and felt compassion toward them. He sees them as “sheep without a shepherd.”
I’ve often been in a congregation, looked around at the people with me, and seen young, old, happy, and sad faces directed toward the altar. My face is one of those people. Each of us is seen by a God who lovingly beholds us and who knows what lies behind the faces we wear on any given day. The “real presence” of God is at the Eucharist, and the God we seek is not there to belittle us, but to help us with whatever we hold within our silence. Today’s gospel passage reminds us of Jesus having pity on us, and reaching out to us who have so many needs.
I’m reminded of another gospel incident—that told of Jesus calling us Christians to love one another. We might too quickly think that we do care for others and are not a “bad” person. But are we really loving or compassionate toward others? Or are we loving and compassionate mostly toward our spouse, children, siblings, and extended family members? We might think of ourselves as being a pretty good person in relating to our family and friends, but Jesus reminds us that “even the scribes and Pharisees” behave that way. The gospel calls us to expand our circle to include more than just family and friends.
Extending this reflection further, think of studies that focus on the interplay of mothers loving their babies and babies loving their mothers. Is their experience a choice, or a chemical action within our physiology? After all, studies show that “oxytocin” (known as the “love chemical”) rises within both a mother and her baby when relating to one another. Similarly, the family dog has this same increase ALONG WITH its owner when greeting one another after a period of separation. The presence of oxytocin within us generates feelings of “love” toward another (child or dog).
Similarly, when one says “it was love at first sight” when they met a girlfriend or boyfriend—MIGHT relate to what are known as “pheromones” within the two people. Studies suggest that we have a chemistry that sensitizes us to a certain chemical that attracts us to a certain person (or people). This is somewhat parallel to a female dog in heat attracting males from miles around. We don’t consciously inhale a person’s “scent,” but for some reason find one person more attractive than another—and we are drawn to that person. This pheromonal activity is more subtle than an erotic response to someone. You are attracted to someone UNCONSCIOUSLY. Thus, inquiring minds wonder to what extent we are controlled by chemistry or by choices we make via “free will” or “cultural conditioning.?”
I watched a video that showed an African water buffalo repeatedly probing the ground with its horns trying to move something. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was trying to help a tortoise “get back on its feet.” After several uplifts of its head and horns, the buffalo was able to flip the tortoise aright. It stepped back and just looked at the tortoise be on its way in another direction. What on earth was at play here? What prompted that water buffalo to help a tortoise that was struggling?
A goat put its head through fence posts, and couldn’t pull its head back out. Being stuck this way, it needed help. Along comes a goose who walks over to the goat and clamps its beak on the goat’s neck—trying to pull it back through the fence. A woman came and told the goose she’d help, and the goose stepped back a couple of paces to watch. The woman was successful and both she and the goose wandered away. What on earth was at play here? What prompted that goose to try and help that goat?
I read somewhere that dogs lick a cut as a form of medical assistance and that some chemical might be at play that aids in the recovery of a cut. Show your scratch to a dog, and it will begin to lick it—not because it likes to lick wounds, but because it possibly “heals” wounds in this fashion. If a dog sees that you have a wound of some kind—prepare to be “doctored.”
It seems that water buffaloes, geese, and dogs can be compassionate toward others—even those who are not their own kind.
When it comes to behavior within the animal world (remember we are in the animal kingdom), I’m reminded of people eating caterpillars, cats, and insects of all kinds when 99.9% of Americans would not eat any of these creatures. A biologist friend of mine would invite students and faculty to join him whenever he collected cicadas to fry. Not many people joined him, but those who did—thought they were tasty. Just a few decades back, few Americans wanted or even knew about sushi. Today it’s found in all grocery stores. Eating raw fish? No way—yes way!
Hmm. Are our behaviors totally “nature” or totally “nurture?” Maybe some are learned and some genetic, or maybe some are a little of both?
I think of tribal groups around the world (your own ethnic background is included). All have a name for themselves which translates to something akin to “people” (e.g., mountain, river, rice people, etc.). All tribes also refer to people from other groups as something else—generally some sort of cut-down (e.g., big bellies, snakes, etc.). The Nuer tribe in Sudan (Africa) thinks the worst name you could call another of your group is “Dinka” (the name of a neighboring tribe). If you and I saw a Nuer standing next to a Dinka, we’d say something like “Those are two black guys standing over there.”). But to a Nuer, those Dinka are 2nd class citizens. In short, as a Nuer grows up, they learn that Dinka are “low lifes.” Biologically, however, the Nuer and Dinka have the same DNA.
A nun taught a class of kindergarteners that people from Central and South America were fleeing to the U.S. because of poverty, war, drugs, and death in their homeland—and that they sought new life here in America (the same story that applied to our ancestors). After she told the children about these people, she asked: “How many of you think we should help these people find a new home here?” All hands were raised.
This anecdote is not an advertisement for some partisan border policy. It’s instead a reflection on how the gospel calls us to treat all life forms with compassion. As you know, people argue about immigration issues until they’re blue in the face—and have trouble getting consensus on anything. Our concern here is a more fundamental one. Namely, if Jesus tells us to love one another, we have to ask ourselves “Am I loving people outside my family circle?” If Jesus says that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, his reference is to us being related to all people in the world. And “loving” one another isn’t a romantic thing, but rather a conscious commitment to helping others any way we can. “Compassion” is the energizing value that moves us to act on behalf of the common good. We thus “love” (assist, aid, care about, defend, make safe, etc.) all within the human family. We DON’T retreat into clannishness or an “us versus them” way of life.
This posture is where the rubber meets the road in our identity as Christians. It’s no easy identity to maintain—which is why we have to gather as often as we can at the table of the Lord. We have trouble being a brother or sister in Christ to others. But just because it’s tough to act this way—doesn’t mean we throw in the towel and just become brutish beasts pushing people aside in service only to ourselves.
The kindergartners showed an inbuilt response of compassion. These young ones had not yet been tainted by “adult” prejudices against other people. The children were like the water buffalo, the goose, and dog-doctors. We adults have become far more selective in choosing to help others in need. The tortoise and the goat sure appreciated the help they received.
The gospel showed that Jesus had compassion for “the vast crowd” of people who sought his help. When addressing that crowd—symbolic of us—he could just as well have told them: “Learn from the water buffalo, the goose, licking dogs, and little children.”