I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind, And did he stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried mole continues blind, Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die, Make plain the reason tortured Tantulus is baited by the fickle fruit, declare If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus To struggle up a never-ending stair, Inscrutable His ways are, and immune To catechism by a mind too strewn With petty cares to slightly understand What awful brain compels His awful hand. Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him sing.
(c) Countee Cullen
Friday, May 2, 2014
WHAT ARE YOU
WRESTLING WITH TODAY?
Poem for Today - May 2, 2014
JACOB
Years and scars later I finally learn all angels travel under assumed names.
(c) George Garrett
Cf. Genesis 32: 23-33
Thursday, May 1, 2014
UNBEARABLE SILENCE
OF GOD
Poem for May 1, 2014
PROSE POEM
I look at you in helpless silence, incapable of doing a
thing for you. In the middle of the white-washed walls of the hospital ward you
lie, groaning quietly in the dark abyss of pain. Only a miracle can bring you some relief. I
have nothing to offer, but a prayer. All
my prayers reach the Almighty, an attempt I shall make. I am trying to shake off His unbearable
silence. Desolation and numbness in your
eyes drive me crazy and as I leave the ward quietly, I hear the footsteps of
death. I want to cut off my ears to block their sound. But will that delay the advent of death? From your voicelessness before death, I move
toward your silence after death – and I do not even want to feel angry or shed
tears at my helplessness.
He forgives the crows of the countryside’s roosters,
forgives dusk as they sing. He forgives the stone grinders and B.C.’s casting
technology.
He forgives the dry pen, the stubborn donkey. He forgives
the female teacher in middle school, forgives the dumb woman for locking him in
a dark classroom.
But he won’t forgive the human folly, even though he
forgives the sealed walls, the crowded streets, the flies, even the person with
goose bumps in a warm room.
He forgives the surrendering army, the judges who drink
milk, his files, memos, decisions, but he won’t forgive slogans, documents,
books, and the typos in instructions.
He forgives his children and wife for their betrayal; his
weeping has never seen any words. Only today did he realize he had every reason
to smash the radio.
But he didn’t. He forgives belief in electricity, belief in
water. How sad the shiny river! But he
won’t forgive the unbelieving sky. Where is he going? Whom will he meet?
He forgives his cancer, his miserable funeral. He forgives
the way he’d forgive rotten food. But he won’t forgive the paper money they
offered.
Twenty years after he died, we acknowledge him as a person.
REBIRTHS, NEW EDITIONS, STARTING AGAIN, ETC. ETC. ETC.
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily is, “Rebirths, New Editions, Starting Again, Etc. Etc. Etc,”
Today’s gospel continues with the story of Nicodemus, Nick at Night He’s
the one Jesus tells he needs to born again. And like most of the main
characters in the Gospel of John – he takes Jesus literally. So that’s why he
says, “What? Go back into my mother’s womb and start all over again?”
Jesus calls all to rebirths, new editions, starting again and again and
again.
So every year the church has Lent – leading to baptismal renewals at
Easter. So folks read, make retreats –
attend conferences and workshops – hoping for growth – insights - change –
reconversions – new beginnings and fresh starts.
Parish Missions and Renewals are a crucial piece of our story as
Redemptorists.
I’ve often heard that’s the story of many marriages. They have their ups
and downs. They have their falling asleep on the job called marriage – and
please God people both don’t fall out of love at the same time. And it’s the
making up – the waking up - that are
significant moments in the stories of many a marriage.
Life is ups and downs, peaks and valleys. To flat line is to be
pronounced dead.
Take a moment to feel and take your pulse today. Where are you?
It takes Nicodemus time – but in time he becomes a follower of Jesus
Christ.
ST. CATHERINE OF
SIENNA
Today is the feast of St. Catherine of Sienna.
Reading short takes on her life last night, I was amazed to read at the
bottom – that she was only 33 when she died.
Talk about retakes. She had many lives – hiding out in her room as a teen
ager – then traveling – then getting involved in both church and state issues
big time. They have over 400 of her letters to kings and poor unknowns. She
challenged church to wake up and get on mission. She challenged priests to
divest from the pursuit of money. She told popes to step down when there were 3
at the same time – as well as get back to Rome from Avignon – a great place to
visit. At times folks wanted to assassinate her.
Talk about remakes. Rome declared her and St. Teresa of Avila doctors of
the church in 1970. There were 30 males in that hall of fame – better wake up
to women writers in our church.
CONCLUSION
To look at our life?
It’s Easter time…. It’s Spring time…. The bursting new life flowering around
us is like those reminders that it’s
time to renew a magazine or this or that.
I’m hearing that Pope Francis has gone through some big retakes.
I just read last night about a Benedictine Sebastian More. He said a big
significant moment in his life was when he said to God, “You’re boring!”
Then the realization - that I’ve
been boring in how I’ve been doing life myself.
So it’s time for a shape up, a wake up, a rebirth, a new springtime in my
life – like how about starting today. Amen.
O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O
Image on top: Chinese symbols of rebirth.
HOW OLD ARE YOU?
Poem for Today - April 29, 2014
E 00183
Confucius said: “At thirty, a man stands.”
At thirty, the doctor diagnosed his infertility. His clan will vanish. He shattered china, burnt books, wailed himself to sleep.
Confucius said: “At forty, a man is no longer puzzled.”
At forty, he trembled at the sound of singing, guilt made
him give up his golden Buddha.
He moved out of his mansion, turned over a new
leaf. A weak man wants nothing
but peace.
Confucius said: “At fifty, a man knows the mandate
of
heaven.”
Porridge stains all over his fifty-year-old wife,
he brings
her vegetables and a small
sea bass after school. Late blooming love
is like
the rusty oil in a wok.
Confucius said: “At sixty, a man’s ears are an obedient
organ for Truth.”
He lost his hearing at sixty: a loud world was reduced to
expressions.
Confucius said: “At seventy, a man does as he pleases
without crossing the line.”
The title of my homily is, “The Wind! A Touch of the
Spirit.”
TODAY’S GOSPEL
Today’s gospel has one of my favorite sayings, “The wind
blows where it wills.” I like to say
that when someone sort of doubts or wonders about how life, church, realities
are going.
“The wind blows where it wills.”
That’s the translation – the mantra – that blew into my
mind a long time ago. It’s the translation I like- maybe in the earlier Confraternity of Christian Doctrine translation of the New Testament. I noticed that’s the way the
New English Bible translates the Greek text of John 3:8
The New American Bible translation – the one we use in
our liturgy has, “The wind blows where it pleases.”
Listen to the whole context again from today’s gospel reading:
“The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where
it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the
Spirit.”
That’s John 3:
8. Jesus is saying all this to Nicodemus who comes to him at night. Nick is a
man who knows there is more – and he has heard and he senses in Jesus – “Here
is the one who can bring me the More – the More called ‘God’”.
THE WIND
I have always liked and been moved by that statement of Jesus, “The wind blows where it
wills – or pleases – or chooses.” The Anchor Bible puts it this way, “The
wind blows about at will….” Those words
have for me, a touch of the Spirit.
Did Jesus hear those words or did Jesus feel those
words? In other words, did he come up
with them on his own – feeling the wind on his face one day – or was he in the
synagogue or the marketplace and he heard someone say that?
How many people down through the years have felt the tug,
the pull, the presence of the Spirit – the Spirit of God – when they experience
the pull of the wind – or a storm – or a breeze?
The poet is us, the person needing, searching for
spirituality, searching for God in us, sees leaves shaking in the sunlight, or
branches waving or trees swaying and dancing in the distance – and God thoughts
hit us.
We say, “The branches are moving – but wind – air – is
invisible.”
How many people have come to an awareness of God because
of the wind?
The wind: it has a mind of its own.
The wind: it does what it wills.
The wind: it’s out of our control.
The sailor knows this.
The farmer knows this.
The person walking down the street in the rain and it’s
windy and they have an umbrella up – they know this.
The weather woman or man on the TV knows this.
Those who operate the Bay Bridge – know this on windy
days – when they know big trucks will be moving across it.
The wind, as Jesus put it, blows where it wills.
Tornados, hurricanes, storms, come pushing towards us –
and usually never at a time we expect them.
In the Book of
Genesis, 3: 8, Adam and Eve, experience God when He comes to them in the
garden – for a walk and a talk - in the
cool of the evening.
In the First Book
of Kings, Chapter 19, Elijah experiences God in a tiny, whispering sound – and not in the strong and violent
wind that crashes against the mountain – or the earthquake or in fire.
And others cry to God in the tornado or hurricane.
In the Acts of the Apostles – the disciples were in the
locked upper room, filled with fear, - part of the scene in today's first reading - Acts 4: 23-31. It’s then that the Spirit of God, the
Wind of God, comes barreling into the house they were in. The Spirit of God,
the Holy Spirit, shook them down to their bones – and brought them back to life
– just like the scene in Ezekiel – where all the dead – were seen to rise from
the dead and come back to life.
If we’ve ever been out on the Bay – or the Ocean – or a
lake or even the Lake of Galilee, we’ve seen and felt wind across the waters.
I’m trying in this homily to say that there is something
about wind and God, wind and the Spirit.
CONCLUSION
The Book of Genesis – and all through the Scriptures – we
get hints at what Jesus was coming up with when he said, “The Wind does what it
wills.”
The various religions all know this: breathe in and
breathe out – feel God in your breath – the God who formed us from the clay of
the earth - and breathed life into us.
We know the new born baby needs to get breathing. We know
the dying person takes that last breath.
The wind, our breath, the invisible air – but so, so real
– because we not only see plastic bags flying on a windy day – but birds glide
on the air every day. We’ve seen sails pregnant – flags flapping – and kites
flying – each telling us that they have a touch of the Spirit in them. Amen.
UPDIKE ON EASTER
Poem for Today - April 28, 2014
SEVEN STANZAS AT EASTER
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.
And if we will have an angel at the
tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less
monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense
of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.
The title of my homily is, “Love Laughs at Locksmiths.”
It’s an old English proverb. It’s also the name of an old
British comic opera from around 1800. I never saw it, but reading about it
once, I jotted down the title, because I thought it will be a great title for a
homily someday. It’s also the name of two short YouTube movies: one has 257 viewers and one has 16 viewers.
Interesting.
“Love Laughs at Locksmiths.”
We get that image.
TODAY’S GOSPEL
Today’s gospel begins with the image of locked doors:
“On the evening of that first day of the week,
when the doors were locked,
where the disciples were,
for fear of the Jews,
Jesus came and stood in their midst
and said to them, “Peace be
with you.”
God laughs at
locked doors.
Jesus comes
through the locked doors of the upper room – he comes through the locked doors
of the disciples minds – he goes through fear and says, “Peace be with you.”
They had to be feeling
various pulls of guilt and emotions – feeling stupid that they put all their
trust in Jesus and he gets arrested and killed – and they ran away when he
needed their presence the most.
IN EVERY PERSON
In every person
– there are locked doors.
In every person
there are doubts. Like Thomas we have
our doubts. That’s why he’s put in today’s gospel story.
In fact, up until
recently, today was called, “Doubting Thomas Sunday.” We all have faith hesitations. We want to see and know more. Wouldn't faith be easier, if we were there in that
Upper Room –way back when - and actually experienced the Risen Christ.
Today is also
called “Divine Mercy Sunday” and in every person there is also locked inside of each of us the down deep
cry for Mercy - forgiveness - hope.
Today – at this
time – we also have Earth Day! Like doubt,
like faith, like the cry for mercy, the reality of our earth should help us big
time with our faith. Who put the moon and Mars and the million stars in space
out there? And back here on earth a beautiful ocean, mountain, sunrise, sunset, seeing cherry blossom trees in bloom, seeing a baby’s smile or an old couple walking down the
street holding hands, should help us with our faith – and get us to evoke what
Thomas said to the Risen Lord Jesus in today’s gospel, “My Lord and my God.”
So we have lots of stuff locked inside of us.
In every person
there is also that secret, that hidden moment, that deep hurt or deep mistake or
deep what have you – and we keep it in a locked safe, box, closet, and Jesus
every once and a while - or we wish that every once Jesus would come to us and say, “Peace be with you.”
When we think of our past, we wish every once and a
while he would come to us and open up that closet – take out that locked box – shake out its
contents – lay it on the bed – and say to us, “Peace be with
you.”
There was a
famous old Redemptorist sermon where Jesus is pictured as a rag man or garbage
collector going through neighborhoods calling out, “Any old junk you want to
get rid of, here I am the Junk Collector.”
I remember stealing that
image for a sermon once. I noticed it hit home. So I also stole it for one
of my books. I had any of us standing there in the crowd listening to Jesus
preach.
Then standing
there deep in thought afterwards at the edge of the crowd, Jesus touches the edge of our coat
and invites himself into our house for dinner.
Then after
dinner, Jesus asks, “Are you going to invite me down into your basement?”
We take him down
there and he asks, “What’s in that old desk in the back?”
The desk is
locked and the drawers are facing the wall – and Jesus gets us to pull the desk away from the wall –
and open up the bottom drawer – and take out the book – the book with all the
sins of our life – and he asks us if we want him to take it away – and then he
asks us if he wants us to take away the other book.
And we nervously say, “You know about that one too?” And Jesus says with a soft
smile, “Of course, everyone has both books.”
And we know
this: the book that has the list of our sins and the book that has the list of
the hurts against us.
Love laughs at locksmiths.
DIVINE MERCY SUNDAY
This Sunday is
all about all of this. It’s called Divine Mercy Sunday – that our God is a God of mercy,
forgiveness, peace.
Jesus is the
Lamb of God who takes away the sins of our world.
Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the guilt of our world.
Jesus is the
Lamb of God – who helps us deal with the doubts of life – the here and the
hereafter.
Jesus came to
bring us Divine Mercy.
TWO SAINTS
This Sunday in Rome – two popes are being canonized saints.
Someone said, Pope Francis picked the canonization of both together to bring
together liberals and conservatives in our church.
Will Francis be
canonized some day with Benedict?
I’m sure he had
that thought – or if he did, I’m sure it evoked a laugh deep within Francis.
I saw some lady
on TV complaining that Pope John Paul II shouldn’t be canonized a saint because
of all the child abuse by priests during his time as pope – and he could have
done something or done more.
I’m sure there
are some thoughts about Pope John 23 as well.
I hope everyone
can have mercy and forgiveness and have the ability to laugh at times. You know St. Teresa of Avila's prayer: "From silly devotions and sour-faced saints, Good Lord, deliver us." So there is sin and silliness, stupidity and sour-faced people in life.
There are
mistakes. There are hurts in life. There are sins in life. People are hurt in
life.
And obviously we need not just forgiveness and mercy – compassion and understanding - but we also need to take the best
steps to avoid abuse and stop abuse of any kind.
But sin will continue – sorry to say – and hopefully we will continue with the
mercy and the forgiveness and forgiving one another each day.
CONCLUSION
The title of my
homily was, “Love Laughs At Locksmiths.”
A saint is
someone in heaven. So let me close with an epitaph on the tombstone of a Puritanical
Locksmith – somewhere in an English cemetery. It's dated 1637 and describes his arrival in heaven:
A zealous locksmith died of late,
And did arrive at heaven gate,
He stood without and would not knock
Because he meant to pick the lock.
WHERE PRAYERS GO
Poem for Today - April 27, 2014
I HAPPEN TO BE STANDING
I don’t know where prayers
go,
or what
they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep
in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses
the street?
The sunflowers? The old black
oak
growing
older every year?
I know I can walk through the
world,
along
the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with
things
of little
importance, in full
self-attendance. A condition
I can’t really
call
being alive.
Is prayer a gift, or a petition,
or does
it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe
that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.
While I was thinking this I
happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my
notebook open,
which is the way I begin
every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in
enthusiasm,
I don’t know why. And yet,
why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
Or whatever you don’t. That’s
your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this b
