SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE 

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Seeing the Invisible.”

At various times I wanted to think about that reality and then to say something about seeing the invisible.

On this the feast of the Epiphany – it might be a good time to think about this theme – this reality of seeing the invisible, sensing the invisible, realizing the invisible.

EPIPHANY

Epiphany is a great word.

It means seeing, grasping, getting, understanding, intuiting, showing, knowing – what I didn’t know before – seeing what’s always around me – and finally not missing the obvious.

It means revelation, manifestation, evidence, indication, bodying forth, incarnation, theophany, Christophany, disclosure, indication, evidence, make plain, make clear, illuminate, highlight, materialize, opening one’s eyes, having an eye opener, appearance, bring to the surface….

It’s sort of like hearing a joke and people are laughing at the joke and I don’t get it. Finally, I have the courage to ask, “What’s the joke? What’s so funny? I don’t get it.” Then someone explains it to me and I go, “Oh! Now I get it. Okay good.”

Today’s feast has a key message about how to get to the invisible: sometimes we have to  travel a long distance to arrive at Christ – who brings us to God – who helps us realize that He is God.  Today’s gospel tells us about the 3 wise men arriving in Jerusalem and asking “Where is the new born king?” For epiphanies, we have to ask questions.

Who would believe God – the invisible God – would become visible in the presence of a baby – the Christ?

Not everyone gets that – accepts that – grasps that – but any of you who have had a baby knows, if anyone can change our life, it’s a baby.

Being male, never having had a baby, I’ve often wondered what thoughts a mother to be must have as a baby is growing, developing, moving, kicking, in her womb.

I love the words in Psalm 139:13 – where the song writer pictures God as a knitter and says,  “It was you who formed me. It was you who knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

How could anyone not be in awe, filled with amazement, wondering, worrying, making acts of faith, praying – as a baby starts to grow, push,  start to say without words, “Hello!” in the womb of her or his mother?

How can anyone expecting a baby – not believe in the invisible?

Is that harder to believe than hearing the Good News that God would appear and be in bread, wine, food – body, blood, divinity?

It’s a gift to see this – to get this epiphany – this revelation to us from God.

It’s a gift.

That gift comes to us by faith – and hope – and love.

TODAY’S FIRST READING

Today’s First Reading from Isaiah 60 is all about Epiphany.

It’s all about being in the dark – and then seeing the light.

It’s all about being surrounded by clouds – and finally there is a break through.

Today’s First Reading is all about hitting the lottery – with gifts – caravans of camels arriving in our mind – in our stable -  with gifts of gold and frankincense – and faith. Joy to our world, the Lord has come.

Today’s First reading is all about radiance – light.

I remember a baptism here at St. Mary’s one Sunday afternoon. The sunlight found a spot to shoot through the stained glass windows – and  light appeared on the baby’s face – in her carrying case.  Suddenly her face was bathed in light – she smiled -  and her whole family saw the moment – all at once with the camera of their eyes – and all said “Ooooh!” OOOO H – “Ooooh.”

I remembering visiting a family and their only son was climbing up on the metal radiator – along one of the sides of the room – and I could hear his shoes hitting the metal – but his parents didn’t even notice it. And he was holding onto the window sill with one hand and with the other hand he was grasping at something and I asked, “What’s Little Sal doing?”

His mom looked over – studied the moment and said, “Oh, he does that all the time. He’s trying to grab the light.”

I thought for a moment and said, “Don’t we all? Don’t we all?”

Aren’t we all trying to make the invisible visible?

LOST AND FOUND

It hit me once when someone lost their wedding ring – that they could buy a new wedding ring.  Ooops – obviously – I didn’t put my foot in my mouth. A new wedding ring would not be the same as the one they lost.

Of course.

Of course there is a difference between a wedding ring in a jewelry story window or locked glass case and the wedding rings on the ring fingers of the persons on the street going by the jewelry store.

You can’t see the difference – but there is a vast difference.

Wedding rings scream to me – the invisible can become visible – in time.

I do a lot of weddings and I know by now the significance of words as in vows and the significance of rings – as in wedding rings.

My mother was walking down the street in Brooklyn once and a guy came running down the street – behind her – grabbed her pocket book and she fought him over her pocket book. He got it and ran into the cloud of unknowing. I told her that I was taught when I was working BINGO at a church in Manhattan, “If anyone tries to rob you of the money, don’t fight them. Let them steal it from you. It ain’t worth it - compared to being hurt.”

And my mom said, “I know. I know. But I couldn’t let go. And it was just an old pocketbook – with nothing worthwhile in it.”

Then she said, “Till I realized a rosary Jack Laffey gave me was in my pocketbook.”

This parish has made over a million ranger rosaries – but I bet there is a rosary out there that some Marine will hold onto for life – because he felt it helped him through 3 tours of duty in Iraq and then 2 more in Afghanistan.

You can’t see what’s in a rosary – but there can be a lot in one – for those who see the invisible.

AT THE GRAVESIDE

One last example and then a short conclusion.

A woman somewhere along the line asked me if I thought she was crazy – because she liked to take a beach chair to the cemetery and set it up on the grass above her husband’s dead body. She would face the head stone and talk to him and pray with him to our God.

Wow! I could picture that. Afterwards, I realized I was hearing the best Creed I ever heard.  She was making an act of faith in Christ – in his Resurrection from the dead. She was making an act of faith that life is everlasting life – that when I die – and my loved ones die, there is life for on and on and on.

Life is invisible – yet we know the difference between a person who is walking down the street and a person in a coffin in a funeral parlor.

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily was, “Seeing the Invisible?”

If we think about it, there are millions of memories and stories embodied in this church – in these benches – in these sacred places. I can see it in the faces of people who visit this church from time to time and say – pointing to the front of this church: “I was married here 45 years ago.”

I can also sense it in homes – hospitals  – bars – beaches  – parks – lakes and rivers – places where we walked and talked.

Memories cling to stone and space – streets and schools.

If we think about it, a flag is cloth and a dish rag is a rag – but what a difference even if both have red, white and blue in them – even stripes – but what a difference.

If we think about it, all those dates on a calendar, are somewhat the same – but then - some have great significance – our birthday, the death day of our mom or dad, or a day like September 11.

To be human is to know these things. To have faith is to know God is here and watching us and after us – and into the beyond – into the forever.

To pause to get that – at least glimpses of this - is an epiphany. Thank you God.

oooooooooo

Concerning the picture on top of this blog piece. I found this wood engraving on line. Below it was the following comment: “The Flammarion engraving is a wood engraving by an unknown artist that first appeared in Camille Flammarion's L'atmosphère: météorologie populaire (1888). The image depicts a man crawling under the edge of the sky, depicted as if it were a solid hemisphere, to look at the mysterious Empyrean beyond. The caption underneath the engraving (not shown here) translates to "A medieval missionary tells that he has found the point where heaven and Earth meet..."