September 19, 2021 (25th Sunday in Ordinary Time)
/“Stanford Upside Down Duck Syndrome”
by Fr. Dominic DeLay, O.P.
[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]
You new students have already heard plenty about Stanford’s two great syndromes: imposter and duck, imposter syndrome being the nagging feeling that you don’t belong at Stanford, that everyone else is superior to you, and duck syndrome being the feeling that you have to look like you’re gliding across the Stanford waters of excellence, but your feet are desperately paddling under the surface.
Today’s gospel sheds some light on healthier, happier, and more effective ways of excelling, of being a leader. And all of us who have been baptized have been summoned into leadership.
The first thing today’s gospel teaches us is to be stupid. Jesus tells the disciples that he’s going to be killed and then rise, but they’re afraid to ask him what he means. Do we ask questions, or are we afraid to look stupid?
There’s quite a culture of study groups at Stanford. It seems whenever I pass one of the fishbowl rooms in Old Union, there’s a group of students crowded around the whiteboard. I hope they’re asking questions rather than performing fake answers. But what’s worse than a student who doesn’t admit they don’t know something? A professor or a priest who does the same, answering a question with an answer to another question.
Being stupid is about practicing humility and honesty. We can do this not only in classrooms and study groups but also with our faith. We often think we’re supposed to know everything about our faith. We look at others and think we should know everything they know. Or when someone who isn’t Catholic asks us something about our faith that we can’t answer, we might be afraid to say we don’t know. Of course, sometimes those questions aren’t really questions but jabs, best answered with another question: Why do you ask?
The Catholic Community at Stanford has its own version of those study groups at the white board: small groups of peers gathered around the coming Sunday’s gospel. We share our struggles and insights, helping each other along the way of discipleship.
Are we willing to ask questions, big questions and little ones? Will we risk asking the unanswerable questions? Are we willing to take the time to seek answers to our questions, even if we know there isn’t one? Are we willing to discover answers that will change us? When will Fr. Dominic stop asking me questions about questions? Leaders, authentic disciples, embrace their stupidity and wave their stupid flag for all to see. Be stupid.
And be last. Jesus tells his disciples today: “If anyone wishes to be first, they shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” Instead of asking their question, the disciples argue about who’s the greatest. That may not seem like something most of us regularly do, but how many of us worry that we’re not living up to expectations, including God’s expectations? And how often do we forget that all our ambitions, including our spiritual ambitions, are meant to benefit others? The reason we’re at Stanford, the only reason that will sustain students through the many challenges, is to grow in love and service through our particular fields.
One way we can strive to be last is by admitting when we’re wrong, including when we’ve done wrong, asking forgiveness of others and God. Our mistakes don’t keep us from being leaders but are an essential part of becoming better leaders. The goal isn’t to gradually hone ourselves into perfect leaders but rather to become more and more aware of how imperfect we are. Leaders, authentic disciples, embrace their last-ness, their weaknesses, their need for others, their need for God. What would life be if we didn’t need others? At least one answer to the big question, “What does it mean to be human?” is “To be human is to need God. To be fully human is to know we need God and to take delight in that need.” Be stupid and be last.
And be yourself. If we’re trying to be someone else, we are indeed imposters. It’s so easy for us to be jealous of what others have, jealous of who they are. Christians celebrate others’ gifts as their own. We’re all indispensable parts of the one Body of Christ. Great leaders are leaders in their own way, according to who they are. They don’t mimic others.
Being ourselves is about admitting our undeniable vulnerability. The disciples hear Jesus is going to be killed and then rise, and instead of gathering around him in support (then asking what on earth he means), they wonder in silent fear what’s going to happen to them when he dies. Will they be killed too? They figure they’d better struggle for external power and safety, even though those things are illusions. Jesus allows himself to be so vulnerable in love and service that he’s killed. He knows that the only real power is in love and that the only real safety is in falling into God’s arms.
“Taking a child, he placed her in their midst, and putting his arms around her, he said to them, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.” Children are the most vulnerable of all, and in their purest state they’re not afraid to be their vulnerable selves. Let’s allow ourselves to be God’s trusting children.
Be stupid. Be last. Be yourself. Then the Stanford Duck Syndrome becomes the Stanford Upside Down Duck Syndrome: SUDDS. Instead of performing peacefulness and perfection for God and everyone to see, let’s raise and wave our feet (or hands) with stupid smart questions and signal for help. And then, with our worldview turned upside down as it should be, let’s immerse our heads and hearts in the peaceful depths of God’s loving care.