CAN I EVER SAY, 

“I KNOW YOU”?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 16^th Tuesday in Ordinary Time is, “Can I Ever Say, ‘I Know You”?

Yesterday, at the funeral for Kellie Thompson Shiley I felt relieved that I didn’t have to give the homily. And I felt that way for several reasons. I didn’t know her. It was too painful a funeral. And there were people there who did know her.

Deacon Leroy Moore preached - he knew Kellie from her marriage preparation and from her time at St. Mary’s. Then a good friend of Kellie’s from the 1^st grade onwards and then into their adult life - as well as Kellie’s brother Scott gave the eulogy. I listened to every word. These 3 knew Kellie very well. I read the obituary and write up in the paper and I had wanted to know more about who this person was. I had a wonderful seat. Many people didn’t. This church was packed.  Looking out from up here, I was watching faces and reactions. I studied her parents in the front row. What was that like to lost such a daughter? I watched her husband - praying for him - as he held his son. Tough stuff.

Many of the people in the church knew Kellie. Each of them could have pulled together their take on who the mystery she was.

THE POINT I’M TRYING TO MAKE

Then comes my question and the title of my homily: “Can I Ever Say, “I Know You?”  The point I’m trying to make is the mysterious reality of how much do we know the other person? I didn’t read the book on President JFK entitled, Johnny We Hardly Knew Ye - Memories of  John Fitzgerald Kennedy, but I’ve often said that about people who surprised me. “____ I hardly knew you.”

When some priests I thought I knew left the priesthood - or when a marriage broke up - or someone got caught in a crime or what have you - I have been surprised and I’m sure you have too. I found myself, saying, “X we hardly knew you.”

Someone once said to me about another priest: “You’re one of the two guys who know him. You were one of his only friends.”  That comment totally took me by surprise. I said to myself afterwards - and only to myself, “Well, if I’m one of his only friends, he doesn’t have any friends.” I thought that, because I knew I really didn’t know him. Nice guy, but I knew I didn’t know him. That scared me.

And so I’m asking, “Who knows us?” “Who knows this other person?” “Do we know this other person?”

Often we know the other person’s interests.  We know their stories? We know their look. But do we really know the other person?

I’m pondering in this sermon basic human questions: transparency, friendship, intimacy, relationships, talking to each other, openness?

Have you ever picked up a book - and you opened it - and surprise there are a bunch of pages that are uncut - not opened - and obviously nobody ever read this book?  Is that me? Whom do I let into the pages of my life? Who reads me like a book? [1]

I used to write obituaries for Redemptorists who had died. When I had no clue who the guy was, it was difficult. I’d ask around, “Who knew the guy?” Then I would call those guys. I’d listen. With ballpoint pen and paper at hand, I’d jot down what I would hear.  One time as someone who knew a guy who had died, I was given the name of a guy named Ed Jackson. Ed was very insightful. He was the best. So after that - I’d call Ed first - and jot down his ideas and stories. Surprise guys who read an obituary of a Redemptorist who had died, would tell me that I really captured the person who died. I’d say every time: “It wasn’t me. Thank Ed Jackson.”

From that experience I decided that some people are much better than others in knowing and reading and capturing who the other person is. Are women better than men in this? I don’t know. Do long married people know each other?  Is there every a final date - when someone can say, “I know you”?

WHY DID I BRING ALL THIS UP?

Now why did I bring all this up?

I did - because if it takes time to get to know who another is -  how about knowing God?

As priest I have heard lots of people give me their take - their understandings - their perceptions -  of God. Sometimes I think to myself, “That’s interesting. That’s intriguing. That’s different. That’s helpful.” At other times, I say to myself, “That’s interesting, but I don’t agree with you.”

Being at all these Masses, we hear a lot of scripture readings. As a result we hear a lot of takes on God in the Bible. There are many. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I wince when I read a sort of off handish God wiping out thousands and thousands. [2] Then in another text or verse, God grants kings and cities of sin - forgiveness and double figure years to come. Then I hear in other texts - God basically saying, “I don’t do these killings. It’s your fault.”

It seems to me that the Bible is like all of us. The writers are gradually sifting through God Talk and coming up with a composite picture of God that is more and more nuanced - and not just human projections on what God is like. So what I’m saying here is that this is a long process in getting to know who God is. Moreover, some takes are very different than others.

I have my preferences on takes. I like Luke more than Matthew. When it comes to Saints and their take on God,  I’ll take St. Philip Neri and St. Vincent de Paul - more than some tough birds who were Saints.

You’ve heard priests and their take on God.  I’m sure some of you disagree with takes on God and what a scripture text means from the pulpit.

I used to work with a Father Alfred Rush and he would often say, “I don’t think God wanted it to be that difficult.”

I’ll take that take on God.

CONCLUSION

In today’s first reading listen to Micah’s understanding of who and what God is like. God removes guilt. God pardons sin. God gets angry, but doesn’t stay angry forever - better God delights in clemency. God has compassion on us. God steps and stomps on our guilt.  Isn’t that a great image - like someone trying to disintegrate with one’s foot an old cigarette butt on the sidewalk. God casts all our sins in the depths of the sea. God shows faithfulness and grace. Nice.

In today’s second reading, the Gospel, Jesus tells us he knows us and sees us. Someone in a crowd said, “Your mother and brothers are outside and they want to talk to you.”  Jesus looks around and asks, “Who are my mother and brothers and sisters? It’s all and anyone who does the will of my heavenly father.”

I love Jesus’ words in the Gospel  where he says to Philip. “See me, you’re seeing the Father.” I use that as a guiding text on what and how God the Father is. I watch Jesus.  Jesus is telling us how God the Father thinks and sees. God knows us as family: we are all brothers and sisters and God is Our Father.

NOTES

[1] Cf. my next blog piece entitled "Autobiography," from my book, Listenings - page.76

[2] Ezechiel 32; Revelation 19: 11-21.