Twenty-Eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time
October 10, 2004


Do you ‘collect things’? And if you do, what kind of things do you collect?

If you have ever seen the play Les Miserables, you’ll know that the main character, Jean Valjean begins the play in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. Almost immediately in the play, his time to be released occurs. He sets out to find work, but cannot. In pity, a local bishop takes him under his roof and offers him dinner and a place to sleep. In the simple bishops house, the most ornate items were the silver goblets at the dinner table. Desperate as he was, he saw them as an opportunity to begin anew. He steals them, is caught by the law, and is about to be put back into jail. The Bishop arrives back on the scene, and, in a wonderfully tender moment, says: “My friend, you left so early, surely something slipped your mind. You forgot I gave these also, would you leave the best behind.” With that, he gives Valjean the silver candlesticks that also graced the table, dismisses the priest, and invites Valjean to know that the bishop has bought his soul for God.

Fast forward through the entire play to the final scene, and there is Valjean at his prayer place – with a crucifix surrounded by two candles. He is writing/praying a letter to his adopted daughter, now estranged since her marriage. “On this page, I write my last confession, read it well, when I at last am sleeping. It’s the story of those who always loved you, your mother gave her life for you then gave you to my keeping…” It’s the story of those who always loved you… As I was watching the play, with the music sweeping over me, suddenly my eyes were drawn back to his prayer table. I saw that the two candles were on top of two silver candlesticks. Suddenly, I knew they were the two candlesticks given to him by the bishop – the story of the man who had loved Valjean and saved him. And like Naaman, the Syrian, who hauled two loads of dirt back to his native country so that he might worship the Lord on Israelite soil, Valjean had carried those candlesticks wherever he had traveled – to remind him of the story of his redemption and salvation.

Naaman the Syrian brought back two loads of earth – very physical reminders of the moment of his healing, because he wanted to be reminded daily of his deliverance. He ‘collected’ the dirt, as one might collect rocks or knickknacks, because it connected him to that moment of salvation and that moment of thankfulness. It was the reminder that literally kept him “grounded” in thankfulness.

In the gospel, we are told that all ten lepers were cured, but that only one was saved. The Samaritan was ‘saved’ because he connected the gift received to the giver, the healing to the healer, Jesus. In the same way, I keep this rock on my desk. It’s a simple, granite rock, that you could find almost anywhere. But this one comes from Ireland, and it connects me to my summers of service there, and to the promise I made while watching the bonfires of hate – to live in a way to create a different world than the one I saw before me. And it connects me to the love of God that I have come to know in the years following. Like Valjean’s candlesticks, like Naaman’s earth, this rock goes where I go, to physically remind me to be thankful each day..

Do you collect things, and if so, what kinds of things do you collect? I invite you to walk through your house this week and look at the STUFF that is there. What do they connect you to? What do they help you know and remember about who you are, and whose you are? Are they “The story of those who always loved you?” If so, let them connect you in gratefulness and thanksgiving, to this story – of the God who always loved you in Jesus Christ. And know that for Jesus, it is bread and wine that he ‘collects’ – bread and wine that he transforms for us into our story of salvation, our story of the one who always loves us. And he his here again at this altar and this table tonight…our bread of life and our cup of salvation…