A GLIMPSE

OF THE UNDERGLIMMER

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this Second Sunday in Advent B is, “A Glimpse of the Underglimmer.”

Those are words of the Japanese poet, Basho, which I found in a book entitled, “The Art of Pilgrimage” by Phil Cosineau. (1)

THE SOUND OF WORDS WITH L AND M IN THEM

That phrase, “A Glimpse of the Underglimmer,” with 2 neat words, “glimpse” and “underglimmer” grabbed me for two reasons.

First of all, I liked the sounds of the words - “glimpse” and “underglimmer”. Those of you who are poets know that the letters “L” and “M” - are liquid sounds - important sounds for poems. Back in high school, Father John Duffy - one of our English teachers and a poet once said that he considered the most beautiful word in the English language to be, “oleomargarine”. Notice the “L” and the “M” in “oleomargarine”. The word was shortened to “oleo” - and/ or was replaced by “I Can’t Believe Its Butter” butter.

Life. Things and people get replaced.

Yet, still hear those two letters, “L” and “M” in both those words “glimpse” and “glimmer.” They are onomatopoetic words - that is, words that suggest what they mean. In the meanwhile name your sons and daughters: Miriam and Marlon - Lorraine and Larry - and say they are lovely and marvelous. And what ever happened to L and M cigarettes?

THE UNDERNEATH

And secondly, as priest I’m to be aware of and to preach about what’s underneath - the underneath realities of life and love.

What’s underneath you today - December 4, 2011?

What’s underneath you - what are the foundations of your life? Do you see any underglimmer in your life? Do you have glimpses of your lights?

As Catholics we are overwhelmed at times with what’s underneath the bread and the wine: Jesus Christ the Lord. So we come here to hear the call and desire to eat and drink Jesus up, so that He can become more underneath our life.

As Catholics we are overwhelmed at times with what’s underneath each of us: Jesus Christ the Lord. We are the Body and Blood of Christ - member with member - member in communion with each other - hopefully in holy communion with each other.

Faith is underneath stuff…. Faith is about glimpses of the underglimmer of God’s light - in the darkness - God’s reality in this vast universe that we are hanging onto at times for dear life.

At Christmas time I like to picture the universe as a gigantic Christmas tree with all these beautiful globes and stars hanging on its branches - and we’re just one small round earth in the midst of millions and billions of God’s round differing globes hanging and glimmering on this billions and billions of year old universe tree.

Advent is a time to become quiet - and to pause - and to sense the underneath presence of God in and with and through all that is around us - all that surrounds us.

Don’t you love George Eliot’s words in her novel, Middlemarch? I love to read and stick into homilies these words: “If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.” (2)

Do you ever hear the roar of God’s silence?

Did you ever hear God described as Silent Music? (3)

Just listen!

[LONG PAUSE]

We don’t listen enough? We fill our universe sometimes with too much noise, too much stuff, too much busy.

Yet God is still all around us.

Yet God is still so silent - in this revolving, spinning, expanding, contracting, pulsating, universe.

I just saw in the news yesterday that they have discovered 10 objects - that might be rogue Jupiters in the 200 billion stars in the Milky Way? That’s a stopper! Talk about busy. We are part of a busy universe and what seems a very silent God.

And so we pray, we speak, we ask, “God what are you doing - creating and spinning - and moving all these globes in this vast dark universe we’re a tiny, tiny, tiny part of? And how am I part of all this - tiny, tiny, tiny me?”

PATTY’S HOUSE

I love to go to my niece Patty’s house for Christmas. It’s just up in Reisterstown - so it’s not long a drive on Christmas afternoon. I love it because every Christmas she puts 5 new ornaments on her Christmas tree - something that symbolizes and signifies something from the life of the 5 in her family - mom, dad, Patrick, Michael, and Molly - from that year. I love going over to the tree and looking at the new ornaments as well as the history of their life together all these years with all those tiny figures hanging like planets on their tree. They scream out - they roar out - “Story!” “Story!” “Story!”

Tell me the story of each new ornament! And if you have time, tell me about some of the old ornaments - especially your favorites.

There is a roar behind the silence in all of us. What is our story? What are our ornaments? What have we collected? What has happened to us since last Christmas? Do we still have the Christmas looking forward attitude that we had as kids? Do we see all the Christmas gifts all around us each day - always ready to be unwrapped - because we get glimpses of the underglimmer underneath all of us? Stop and talk to each other? Take time to discover all these planets revolving all around us? Who are we? Where have we been? What are the most beautiful sounds in our soul? What are our roars and our cheers? Who claps for us? Whom do we clap for?

Do we pause to applaud each other?

During Lent we can look at our wounds - our hurts - as well as our crosses.

In Advent we can look at movement towards births and rebirths in our being - the times we moved from being unstable to becoming more stable.

What are our glimpses of the underglimmer of God in our lives?

In this homily, I’m saying, “That’s Advent stuff.”

TODAY’S READINGS

Today’s readings contain prophetic stuff? What are the roars, the voices, we’re hearing?

What I’m saying is poetic. Yet it’s not too far fetched. Did you hear that comment in today’s second reading from Second Peter, “Do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day”?

God thinks big and God thinks small? God creates big - check out the night sky and the Milky Way. God creates small - check out with microscopes the inner workings of our cells, our DNA or simply see God’s glimmer in a baby’s fingers or a baby’s toes.

We are surrounded with glimpses of the underglimmers of God.

What are the places God is calling us to look at and move towards? Today’s first reading asks, “What are the roads to those places? What mountains have to be leveled to get there? What valleys need to be filled in to get there? What roads need to be straightened to get there?”

Today’s gospel calls us to head for the desert - to move towards quiet places - to find deserted spots for prayer - to hear God’s messengers and messages to us? Do we hear the John the Baptist inside us saying, “I am not enough. One mightier than myself is coming after me. Look for him!”

I’m being poetic in this homily, so to be practical, I would suggest in this homily to find a quiet spot - some silent chair - in some quiet spot in your house - at some quiet time to sit down before you go to bed - with a window in view to look at the vast dark night sky - and ponder the serious. See and sense the glimpses of the underglimmers of God that you experienced that day. Just 5 minutes each night.

I do this every night. I have one of those spiral pads. I put the date on the top of the page. Under that I put the time and place. My room - usually around 11:30. Then I make a list of what happened that day - short, quick descriptions, and then I look at that list and say, “Which one has the most energy?” Tonight I’ll ask - as a result of this homily - “Which one has the most glimmer?” Then I say a quick prayer. All this takes just five minutes. I’ve been doing this for years now - and I recommend it to everyone who wants more spiritual direction in their lives.

Advent time screams out the need to see light in our darkness. Christmas comes in December not by accident. Those Christmas lights in our windows and on our lawns are all about glimpses of the underglimmer of Christ the Light of the world - wanting to come into the life of each of us.

The crib beneath the tree - roars - Christ comes - when we are silent in the night.

When the crib is put up here in church - make sure you stop to watch parents this Christmas who bring their kids to the crib. Remember when your parents brought you to the crib as well. The straw is important - but Christ is the one we approach.

T.S. Eliot - another Eliot besides George Eliot - whom I mentioned earlier - in the quote about the roar on the other side of silence - described what happens to many of us in a 1925 poem called, “The Hollow Men.” To be P.C. correct it includes women as well. Listen:

                       “We are the hollow men
                        We are the stuffed men
                        Leaning together
                       Headpiece filled with straw.” [4]

How do we move from being straw to person?

In a poem called, “Ash Wednesday” T. S. Eliot tells us how we become hollow and filled with straw.

               “Where shall the word be found, where will the word
                 Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence.” [5]

In that piece he is also telling us the solution: silence. To take time to become quiet.

December believe it or not - is a good time to become quiet and indoors and go underneath - not just under blankets and the comforters - but also underneath ourselves and each other. If the cold doesn’t do it, the snow of January will.

Stay indoors.

Go within!

Go underneath.

CONCLUSION

So Advent and Christmas is not about the rush. It’s also about the underneath it all - the stopping to look for and to listen to the roaring word of God - on the other side of silence - who comes as the Word made flesh - the baby - and that this Christ grows in us - underneath our lives - in our lives - this Christ who is Light and who gives us glimmers and glimpses of God every day. Amen.

The Shepherds will hear it - the Magi will search for it - hopefully we will catch the glimmers and glimpses of God again this Advent and this Christmas. Amen.


NOTES

(1) The quote by Matsuo Basho [1644-1694] can be found on page xix in Phil Cousineau, The Art of Pilgrimage, Conari Press, Berkeley, California, 1998.

(2)  George Eliot - Marian Evans Cross [1819-1880] in Middlemarch [1871-1872], chapter 22.

(3) William Johnston, Silent Music, The Science of Meditation.

(4) Thomas Stearns Eliot [1888-1965], The Hollow Men, 1925, 1.

(5) Thomas Stearns Eliot [1888-1965], Ash Wednesday, 1930, V.