GOD NEEDS
OUR COOPERATION
Quote for Today - April 30, 2011
"Tis God gives skill,
But not without men's hands. He could not
make
Antonio Stradivari's violins
Without Antonio."
George Eliot (Marian Evans Cross) 1819-1880, Stradivarius
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL
The honeymoon ends ….
The last kid leaves ….
The other goes ….
Death hits home ….
Cemeteries exist ….
The ginger ale loses its fizzle ….
The steak gets cold….
The beer gets warm….
Prayer becomes boring ….
Mass feels meaningless ….
Emptiness invades and then inhabits everywhere….
The Lord and his dream of a kingdom ended last Friday….
We leave for Galilee. We leave for home. We leave for where we came from….
We fish the whole night and catch nothing….
It feels like 3:25 in the morning too many times ….
I guess this is what they mean by the dark night of the soul….
Time ticks ….
The sun slowly surprises the darkness….
The sun always rises ….
Faith screams like a rooster
or a roaring fire engine in the last dark before dawn….
There’s always hope, there’s always the morning, daybreak,
an end to death….
We hear his muffled voice in the morning mist….
The Lord is always on the shore directing us where and how to fish,
and 153 new possibilities appear in our net….
The dark night of the soul disappears like the night – for a while –
and we experience the bright sunlight of the soul….
We’ve been here before and we’ll be here again….
Prayer sparkles….
The Mass alleluias….
Resurrection is as sure as the dawn….
Jesus is Lord….
Jesus eats with us….
We chew – we digest – we swallow the bread….
We eat the fish we caught and cooked….
We sit there on the sand – digesting the Risen Lord,
knowing it’s always these morning moments of communion that
help us face the Noonday Devil – as well as the slow afternoons –
as well as the long commute home – and then some nights –
the dark night returns - and we can't sleep and
we wonder it this is big one - the eternal night – and we know
we have to let go - if we want to go on - if we want to get to sleep -
and we make the big act of faith - the big leap in the dark -
knowing there will be the eternal dawn for us – after our death –
when we arrive on the other sure – Jesus the Risen Lord
waiting for us even if our nets are empty....
By faith – by experience – we know the Son always rises….
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Painting on top: The Second Draught of Fish by James Tissot, 1836-1902
This is a homiletic reflection for Easter Friday - 2003. I had a funeral this morning, so I didn't have a Easter Friday Mass. I have been wanting to add some thoughts other than my Quote for the Day, so I went fishing in my homily collection. I had 4 homilies for this Easter Friday. They are sort of so so - so let me go fishing with this one - and see if I help you net some thoughts.
I noticed as I looked at this reflection from 2003 that one of my lines was probably stolen - unconsciously - from F. S. Fitzgerald. His line is: "In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning." That's from The Crack Up [1936]. I didn't read it, but I have seen that quote from time to time. I also noticed that Bartlett's - where I found Fitzgerald's quote - has a footnote to check St. John of the Cross and Napoleon. I did. St. John of the Cross [1542-1591] has a whole book with the title, "The Dark Night of the Soul." Bartlett's has this quote from Napoleon Bonaparte [1791-1821], "Two o'clock in the morning courage: I mean unprepared courage." That quote has this following it: "[December 4, 5, 1815] From Las Cases, Memorial de Ste-Helene [1823]" Then that quote has this footlnote: "Le courage de l'improviste. The three o'clock in the mornng courage which Bonaparte thought was the rarest. - Thoreau, Walden [1854], chapter 4, Sounds." It struck me that I could keep going on with this and it might end up sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning.
I noticed as I looked at this reflection from 2003 that one of my lines was probably stolen - unconsciously - from F. S. Fitzgerald. His line is: "In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning." That's from The Crack Up [1936]. I didn't read it, but I have seen that quote from time to time. I also noticed that Bartlett's - where I found Fitzgerald's quote - has a footnote to check St. John of the Cross and Napoleon. I did. St. John of the Cross [1542-1591] has a whole book with the title, "The Dark Night of the Soul." Bartlett's has this quote from Napoleon Bonaparte [1791-1821], "Two o'clock in the morning courage: I mean unprepared courage." That quote has this following it: "[December 4, 5, 1815] From Las Cases, Memorial de Ste-Helene [1823]" Then that quote has this footlnote: "Le courage de l'improviste. The three o'clock in the mornng courage which Bonaparte thought was the rarest. - Thoreau, Walden [1854], chapter 4, Sounds." It struck me that I could keep going on with this and it might end up sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
AT THE BEAUTIFUL GATE
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this Easter Wednesday is, “The Beggar at the Beautiful Gate.”
In the history of the world there have been many beggars – and if beggars are smart – and beggars can be choosey – they often pick beautiful places to beg.
We’ve all see beggars outside stores in the Mall. I just gave a guy a 5 two weeks ago – outside of Office Depot – and lots of folks have seen a lady with kids – begging out in our parking lot on weekends and we said to her to go to our St. Vincent de Paul – because this parish is very, very generous. We say this because they help as well as screen folks well – and a lot of people are truly stuck – and the economy is still “iffy!”
Beggars ….
TODAY’S FIRST READING
I chose to say a few words about the first reading – especially because today’s gospel will be the Sunday Gospel – not this Sunday – but the Sunday after that. It’s the story of the 2 disciples on the road to Emmaus – and we’ve all heard many homilies on that key gospel story.
Today’s first reading from Acts is the story of “The Beggar at the Beautiful Gate”.
I heard a homily on this text in 1968 and I still remember it. A priest at Most Holy Redeemer Church in New York City used this story in reverse. He used it to thank a rich donor – a man who didn’t have to beg – a man who had silver and gold – and gave a nice chunk to the church – and they were honoring this man for his many gifts to the church.
Most Holy Redeemer was my first assignment. I had finished my studies. I was now in ministry. I was starting to get my real education. Here was an old priest who taught me that scriptures can be used in surprising ways.
So I gradually learned that all these readings that were talking about people from a long time ago – can also be talking about people here and now in ways I never noticed before.
BEGGING
In this homily I’ll reverse what I heard in 1968 and say that we are the beggars.
We come to church – to this beautiful gate of heaven – to beg.
Question: What are you begging for today?
What did you beg for the last time you came to this beautiful place?
What will you beg for tomorrow?
We are all beggars?
St. Alphonsus – the Founder of the Redemptorists - is labeled as "The Doctor of Prayer" – because he preached so often on it, He said the # 1 reason for prayer is to ask – to beg.
We come here begging for our children, begging for our world, begging for peace, begging that our leaders will lead and lead us well. We come here to beg for faith, hope and charity.
We come here begging for sight and insight.
St. Aphonsus also stressed action – some action – some movement – some motion on our part. The beggar has to crawl or get to the Beautiful Gate – in order to beg. He or she can’t stay in the shelter, the apartment – the cardboard box.
All have to hear the mantras: “Pray for potatoes, but pick up shovel.” “In a storm, pray - but row to shore!”
We come here to hear God and Peter and John and all the saints and all our wisdom figures say to us, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.”
We come here to beg that we receive the power to rise from where we are and to walk in a new light.
Yes we have problems – family problems, health problems – and we need to beg for help if possible. We also need to hear: Pick up a shovel. Start rowing.
We also come here to hear that we can help others to rise and walk with a new way of doing life. There might be people in our lives who need a good push to stand up – to get off their butts – out of their beds and move it. It might be a son or a daughter in their 20’s, 30’s or 40’s – or a husband who has become a couch potato. Move it. Rise and walk. Get out of the house and garden. Get out of the house and volunteer. Get into the garage and clean it up. Wake up and make our surroundings a more beautiful place to live.
Use the clicker to turn off the boob tube. Get out of your Lazy Boy chair. Get into reality. Rise and walk.
I remember a couple who prayed and prayed for their son – in his early 30’s - who settled in their home and wouldn’t work or move it. So they bought a trailer and headed west and came back a few months later and he was gone – and the door was closed. It worked. I guess the refrigerator and freezer eventually emptied out.
Sometimes solutions are not so beautiful – and the gate to freedom – is escaping or doing something strange to be a desired action.
CONCLUSION
To be honest, I have trouble putting into words this issue of prayer and action, grace and self-help, how God works, how prayer works, but I would assume that the bottom line message is: beg – pray – but also rise and walk. Amen.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily is, “The Alluluia Egg.”
I was going to say a few words this morning just on the word “Alleulia” – because we use it so many times – especially at Easter Time.
THE ALLELUIA EGG
While doing some research last night about the word, “alleluia” – I came across the mention of the Alleluia Egg. I had never heard of it – nor do I know how wide spread the custom goes. The Alleluia Egg is a Golden Egg that is hidden along with all the other eggs for kids to find at Easter time.
When you find the Golden Egg – you’re the big winner – and you might yell, “Praise God” – the actual meaning of the word, “Alleluia”.
I was up at my niece Patty’s house in Reisterstown for Easter Dinner and before dinner they had the Easter Egg hunt once more – outside – and all over the place. Patty’s kids and some cousins – even though three kids are finished college – a cousin is at the Naval Academy and one kid is a freshman in High School. The kids love the custom and don’t want to ever see it end – especially because there is money in various amounts – all green – to be found inside each plastic egg.
MEMORIES
In doing my reading I found out that eggs – and painting them – and hiding and finding them goes way back into the history of various cultures and religions. Eggs symbolize spring. Eggs symbolize new life. Eggs symbolize the world – the shell the sky – and inside is the floating world – water and earth. Christians painted eggs red to show that Christ redeemed the world through his blood. People must have time on their hands so all the other colors came as well, especially the Golden Egg.
While reading, I noticed a family story told by a Monsignor Hellreigel – I’m assuming he’s the famous theologian on the Mass. He told the story in a sermon – telling everyone about how on one Easter he found the Golden Egg – over his ten brothers and sisters. It was painted gold and had written on its shell, “Alleluia!” But he forgot to tell what the prize for finding it was – till some kid jumped out into the main aisle and started waiving his hands and the priest said, “What happened?” And the kid said, “Please Father, tell us what was the prize?” “Oh,” the priest said, “The prize was a luscious German sweet cake, large enough to last any little boy a week or so. It was covered with cinnamon and sugar and nuts and the center sometimes had a Stollen filling.”
Reading that triggered a family story and memory our family likes to tell. A long time after Easter one of my brother’s daughters – he had 7 of them – no boys – opened up a jar of peanut butter from the very back of the refrigerator and you know that peanut butter doesn’t have to be refrigerated – but after they got into it, there was the Golden Egg. Somewhere along the line somebody came up with the idea of hiding Easter eggs and really hiding the Golden Egg. Nobody had found it that Easter – and in the meanwhile my brother had died of melanoma.
CONCLUSION
I hear churchy people complaining about Easter Eggs at Easter,
Santa Claus at Christmas, Hearts at Valentine’s Day, and Trick or Treat at Halloween. I would suggest we tell about the deep human and spiritual and religious background of many of these celebrations and customs. I would suggest a tiny bit of research.
After all, we’re all hunters and searchers – and sometimes we’re hunting for money or sweets – or the honor of being the top finder - great – but the Easter message is to be a searcher for Christ like Mary and when you find him, don’t let them go. Be a clinger like Mary Magdalene.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
HOW DOES ONE
EXPRESS THE INEXPRESSIBLE?
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this Easter Sunday morning is, “How Does One Express The Inexpressible?”
Like love, like loneliness, like being the one who got the winning hit or goal, like being told a family secret which the teller says we can’t tell anyone, like loss, like rejection, like death, like resurrection: how does one express the inexpressible?
We’ve all had the experience of wanting to tell someone – something that was amazing – something we experienced that was out of the ordinary – an accident – or a double rainbow – or lightning that split a tree just 50 yards away from us – as we were on the way home from work - or an amazing athletic play we saw while at a game – or an amazing coincident – like meeting a high school friend in a bar while on vacation in Berlin – someone we hadn’t seen in 34 years – and the person we’re telling the story to yawns – or cuts us off and starts to tell us about some experience they had – the memory of which – was triggered by hearing the beginning words of the experience we had.
It’s not fair. We were cut off – and so we feel a bit frustrated and feisty – and we don’t know what to say – other than to say to ourselves, “I guess you have to have been there yourself!”
How does one express the inexpressible?
You have to have been there. You have had to had the feeling yourself.
TODAY’S READINGS
In today’s readings the authors are trying to do just that. They are trying to tell those who were not there – what it was like – what they experienced – how they experienced the resurrection.
We were not there either. We didn’t experience the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.
However, hopefully it triggers for us – our wonderings about what happens after death. Is this all there is? Are our parents and grandparents – and those who have gone before us – only memories – or fading names on tombstones – or do they live on in God. Is there resurrection?
And what about ourselves? Sometimes after spicy food or two bags of potato chips late at night – potato chips with too much salt - or we receive a phone call at 10 at night – that told us of a problem in a sister or brother’s family or marriage – and we can’t sleep – and we begin thinking about the big stuff – usually disasters – disappointments and sometimes death – which has the sneaky habit of knocking on our door at night. No wonder some poets see falling asleep as a small death - a letting go into mystery.
Life? Death? What have I done? What was I supposed to do?
Sometimes when we can't sleep, we start looking at our inner report card and spot the C’s and D’s and some big F – some big Failure.
So we wonder about life and we wonder about death – sometimes when we can’t sleep – sometimes when we’re at a funeral – sometimes on an Easter Sunday morning.
So how does one express the inexpressible?
We’ve read from time to time – popular stories about people who claim to have had a near death experience – and they talk about light – amazement – but they always seem to add the words, “inexpressible” – like “I can’t put what I experienced into words.”
In the first reading for today from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter tries to speak out about Jesus – about his life, death and especially about his resurrection. It’s funny – Peter the one who denied Jesus 3 times – Peter one of the disciples who was hiding out in the Upper Room for fear that he too might be arrested, beaten and killed, - this Peter is now speaking out – proclaiming Jesus.
How does one express the inexpressible?
We have two possible short second readings. The first one from Colossians says there are things that are hidden. The other possible reading – it’s from 1st Corinthians– has Paul reflecting on bread. The poet in him must have watched leavened bread rising. A clump of dough with a tiny bit of yeast – mixed and knuckled – put in the oven – and in time it becomes a delicious loaf of bread. It’s a miracle.
A community of people are introduced and told about Christ. They become a community of Christians and are then called the Body of Christ. A miracle – as much a miracle as bread becoming the Body of Christ – as much as last night – when lots of people all around our world – came into our Body. Here in our parish, we had over 40 coming into our parish last night. A miracle.
I sat there in the dark – last night – at St. John Neumann - a church filled with people holding lighted candles in the night. I just watched. The experience can’t be put into words. It’s inexpressible – other than saying it was something that makes it all worth it being a Christian – even thought the Easter Vigil is was very long: 2 hours and 45 minutes long - last night.
Dark .... light .... people .... water .... ceremony.... a people becoming one.
Bread…. people …. food …. a meal….becoming one.
Food … people …. getting together .... becoming .... what people do and can do – amazing. It’s a miracle.
Do little kids ever sit there or stand there in a kitchen and become amazed at a mom or dad making bread or a cake or sizzling steaks or what have you – and their mouth is open in amazement?
When do we lose the wonder of simple everyday miracles? Babies come out perfect most of the time. Farmers plant seeds for watermelons and cantaloupes and potatoes and wheat – and a few months later, there you have fields of melons and potatoes and wheat – why can’t that be labeled a miracle?
What about planting someone in the ground – in a casket or in a container of ashes – why can’t they rise from the dead? How does it all work?
How does one express the inexpressible?
In today’s gospel from John 20, Mary of Magdala – came to the tomb – and found it empty. The stone had been rolled back. She ran back to yell to Jesus’ disciples that they have taken the Lord from the tomb.
How does one express the inexpressible?
Peter and the other disciple run – run – run – to the tomb.
We assume the other disciple is John – but we can’t be sure for sure.
The other disciple got there first, but let Peter go into the empty tomb first. That’s a significant little piece of information being expressed there.
They see the cloths – especially the burial cloth rolled up in a separate place. Then the other disciple went in and the text simple says, “He saw and believed.”
How does one express the inexpressible?
CONCLUSION
The title of my homily is, “How Does One Express the Inexpressible?”
Maybe 10 minutes of silence would be better than 10 minutes of babble or blab - from the pulpit.
Maybe a priest up in New Jersey who used to preach 3 minute homilies every Sunday had it right - but unfortunately I don't have his DNA.
I say that – because homilies – especially on Easter should bring on silence - and pause - as they deal with the big, big issues – like life and death – and the hope of resurrection.
How does one put into words the mystery of oneself?
I like the world’s shortest poem:
I
Why?
I don’t know who wrote that poem. Our professor in the first year of philosophy put it on the board with chalk and smiled – and then said, “This is a famous Existential poem.”
I heard that back in 1961 - and remembered it again today as I was putting together this homily. It's a poem that is so easy to memorize – so basic to think about.
Years later I wrote a poem – almost as short – also two words – and it rhymes as well.
You
Who
There you have it – two basic inexpressive realities – you and me.
And on Easter Sunday we express deep gratitude for the gift of life - for family and faith.
And as we ponder we are thankful that there is a YOU who rose from the dead – God – whom we often forget – neglect – kill – and then bury inside some cave in our brain or memory. Then on Christmas or Ash Wednesday, and then Lent, then Good Friday, then Easter Sunday appears on our calendar – and there’s Jesus.
There's Jesus and he stirs and rises from the tomb we put him in – the tomb inside our mind and memory.
There's Jesus, the Lord, Jesus the Risen One who expresses Himself to us – a Word becoming flesh – living amongst us again – and let's be honest - I know I do this - we’ll kill him again – but that Word keeps rising, returning – and is here – again this Easter Sunday morning – and hopefully what today’s gospels says of the other disciple will be said of us, “The other disciple saw and believed.”
Faith is faith because it’s inexpressible – but this God of ours keeps expressing Himself to us.
Today run to that tomb inside us. See. Listen. Hear him say to us, “I Why” or “You Who.”
+++++++++++++++++
Painting on Top: The Two Disciples at the Tomb (c. 1906) by Henry Ossawa Tanner [1859-1937]
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