Photo by Spencer Davis on Unsplash
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
These bright warm sultry days of summer are perfect for grilling dinner on the backyard deck, and hanging out around the pool, and slowly sipping ice-cold beverages in the shade. You won’t get much done that would by any stretch of the imagination be considered productive, unless extreme inactivity is a marketable skill. These are the dog days of summer, which I have since discovered, are so named after the dog star Sirius, which rises and sets with the sun between 3 July and 11 August as seen from countries bordering the Mediterranean. Some might think we came up with the idea ourselves, observing that dogs will refuse to do much in this soul-sapping weather but lie in the shade, dreaming of ice-cold beverages, and wishing they had opposable thumbs. So these days you either get invited by friends to their backyard barbecues and pool parties, or you invite them to yours. Either way, the main objective is to beat the heat … to beat the heat, and relax. The two main objectives are to beat the heat, and relax … and enjoy the company of friends. I’m sure few people would need to explain their objectives. Just tell them the dog days are here. And if they ask, tell them to google it.
Hospitality is learned behavior which covers a broad range of courtesies that we extend to our guests either as etiquette or entertainment. We learn first from watching others how to invite people over and make them feel at home. I remember as a teenager arguing with myself about the absurdity of social interaction. It’s all good now. But part of me argued, and quite convincingly, that I should be willing to pay someone to do my dirty work if I didn’t want to do it myself. That was before I had to do someone else’s dirty work. And in my teenage mind, insincere pleasantries and idle chit-chat and fake invitations to return any favors made absolutely no sense. I learned the importance of making friends eventually, and playing nice, and treating others kindly and respectfully if I wanted them to like me. And after years of learning from experts, it comes easier. I will still argue with myself, but it’s easier now too. And my better angels always win.
Lately, I’ve noticed how some hosts will invite friends over to beat the heat, and relax, and enjoy their company, but unfortunately choose to spend their time someplace other than with their guests. I don’t know where else they have to be and what else they have to do. It just seems they often go somewhere other than the obvious. The guests end up enjoying food and drink and visiting with each other. But it feels awkward when the host is missing in action. They might have been worried with the details of hospitality, but they were unable to actually be present to their guests. A good host will do both things well—be attentive to the details, and be present to their guests. Jesus told Martha in today’s gospel that she was anxious and worried about many things. Taking care of the details of hospitality is important of course, especially in a culture that valued kindness to weary travelers and pilgrims. But Jesus expected something more from his hosts. That “better part” Mary had chosen was that she was present to her guest. And Jesus wasn’t trying to be subtle. Any excellent meal is even more enjoyable when your host is physically present to enjoy it with you.
When we set time aside to be with the Lord, whether at mass or at home, when we pull away from the busyness of life for some quiet personal prayer and reflection, it is never easy to clear our minds and hearts, and focus. I sometimes find it challenging still, despite that I’m up here and should be deep in prayer all the while. Yes, our minds will wander. It happens. But there’s a big difference between our minds wandering involuntarily and us getting distracted intentionally, as when we choose to be virtually someplace other than where we are. When our focus is on what’s happening after church, our prayer is a chore. At mass for instance, we need volunteers to attend to the many details of liturgy—preparing bread and wine for communion, leading Children’s Liturgy of the Word, learning to pronounce obscure Aramaic and Hebrew names in the scripture readings, what to do if someone passes out in the assembly, what the next song will be so cantors and musicians can ease right into it, when to advance the PowerPoint slides, when to pass the basket for the second collection … so many details. That’s why we need so many volunteers. “Liturgy” means the work of the people. Mass is what we all do, not just what the priest does. And to all willing to lend a hand, thank you. And it’s not so easy for them either. I have heard some tell me they will come to a different mass when they’re not serving in any capacity, just so they can actually pray. So when someone else has to worry about the details, the rest of us should be able to focus on what’s going on here, and maybe take something good for our lives out there.
And another thing about distractions. I believe everyone at mass—from the priest to altar servers, from lectors to ministers of Holy Communion, from cantors and musicians to safety and security ministers to everyone in the assembly—we all have one job, one responsibility. We want everyone with us to be able to pray well. So, if what we do gets in the way of us all praying well, we fail at our one job. Instead we create obstacles for the church at prayer! If the reader is unprepared and stumbles on their words, it’s much harder to pay attention to the reading. When cantors and musicians lose their place or stray off key, people who know their music will wince and cringe. If people arrive or leave in the middle of mass, or get up and walk the aisles during the readings or the homily, if there’s a commotion or disturbance at clearly sacred moments (outside of emergencies, of course), it becomes quite a challenge to focus on what God may be telling us in scripture and prayer. And it’s different with little kids. We graciously try to filter out their unintentional interruptions … to a point. And Jesus tells us just what he told Martha, “You are anxious and worried about many things.” Instead, do as Mary did. Sit attentively at the Master’s feet and visit awhile, willingly, joyfully. Everything else can wait. We often have no trouble giving celebrities and dignitaries our attention when we go to see them. More so when we have to buy a ticket. So if we mean to give people we love our undivided attention, they can tell soon enough when we fail at it.
So when I take the time at home for personal reflection and prayer, it is best to dedicate a specific room, a specific chair in that room, a specific time of day when I can focus, when I am not daydreaming or drifting to sleep. So, when I invite the Lord in as my guest, I should truly mean it, and not be checking Facebook, or texting, or surfing the web, or watching TV. If I was visiting a friend who did that, I would leave. We say it’s not polite. Then why is it okay when we talk to God? “There is need of only one thing.” Try it at home this week. Try it at mass right now. You might at long last catch what God has been trying all along to say to you.
Rolo B Castillo © 2025