WHAT WILL THIS CHILD BE?
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this feast of the Birth of John the Baptist is, “What Will This Child Be?”
It’s a question asked right there in today’s gospel
about this new born baby who was named,
“John.” [Cf. Luke 1: 57-66, 80]
It was a surprise name. The neighbors and the relatives said
when they heard that he would be called, “John”, "There is no one among
your relatives who has this name."
Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband, said, “His name is John.”
Today’s feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist can
trigger lots of key life points.
FIRST KEY LIFE POINT: OUR NAME
Well, actually an earlier question is, “Boy or Girl?”
Then the name - what to name the child - is asked?
Question for all of us: Am I happy with my name?
Further question: Why did I get the name I got?
I just found out about two months ago from my sister,
Mary, that my name was to be John - but then my dad switched to Andrew - almost
at the last minute. For starters, it was probably because I was born on the
feast day of St. Andrew Avellino - an Italian saint.
Then he was dropped off the Church calendar and replaced
with Leo.
I am glad I got Andrew - because of my middle name:
Jackson. I was named after a saint and a president.
I was told by an uncle in my mid thirties - after my
father had died - the possible reason
for my dad’s choice of Andrew Jackson.
In Ireland, in pushing young men to think about becoming a priest and
then going to the United States as a missionary from Ireland, priests would say
from the pulpit, if there were more Catholic priests in the United States in
the south, the president of the United States, Andrew Jackson, of Scotch Irish
roots might have been Catholic. Then they would add: “Many Irish Catholics switched to different
Protestant groups because of the lack of priests and churches.”
Nice history. How
about you? Where did you get your name? Why? Is there any history in your middle
name? History. History. History.
I never got to name a child, but if I did, I would try to
give a kid history. I would also want the name to sound great - that it has a
ring to it - in case he or she ran for president some day. And above all, I
would not give a kid a name that for the rest of the kid’s life, he or she
would be asked, “How do you spell that?” Or it will be mis-spelled every time.
I have 4 baptisms this afternoon. I didn’t look at their
names. And I would never make comments about a name. I’ve heard enough stories about priests way
back when - who refused a name because it wasn’t a saint’s
name.
But I do like to ask in the beginning of the ceremony the
why of a name.
NCIS the other night gave the story about how one of
McGee’s twins got her name, Morgan. It
sounded neat: Morgan McGee. She was named after the cop down in waiting room
who was shot and killed helping McGee.
WHAT WILL THIS CHILD BE?
The title of my homily is, “What Will This Child Be?”
I began by saying that question is right there in today’s
gospel.
It’s also a question people at a birth and a baptism
wonder about.
It’s the stuff of made up stories about great people that
someone said at their birth or baptism, “This child will be a saint or great
hero.”
This is a life time question - we all ask of kids growing
up: “What are you going to be when you grow up?”
Friday afternoon and then again Friday evening I got sick
calls to visit people who were dying. I stood there with a family and with a
wife and mom who was dying. Both were in hospice.
I anointed both of them. One was almost 72 and the other
lady was 85.
I asked and wondered about the questions we ask about
babies and the beginning of life. What are the questions we ask at the other
end of life?
Did you enjoy your life? Did you do all the things you
wanted to do?
John the Baptist became a prophet and the one who
announced Jesus in our midst.
John the Baptist - in his early 30’s - was beheaded for
proclaiming Jesus - and for proclaiming what was right and what was wrong.
Today’s first reading from Isaiah was picked because John
the Baptist was a sharp sword and a polished arrow.
Yep that was John: direct and to the point.
I have met people who are just that: direct and to the
point.
Of course we need that type person - if ever our country
needed that type person, it’s right now.
How are you doing with your biggest hope and dream for
your life?
Put yourself at the beginning of your life and at the end
of your life - and name your main dream - your major hope - what you wanted
your life to be.
I think this is an excellent “take away” from today’s
feast.
James Barrie described life as, “A long lesson in
humility.”
James Barrie also wrote, “The life of everyone is a diary
in which he means to write one story, and writes another, and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is
with what he vowed to make it.”
CONCLUSION
So the first chapter and the last chapter of our life is
important to read - the urge of this homily.
To look at birth and to look at death: very important.
But let me pick another moment - I assume nobody is
having a baby at Mass here this morning and I assume nobody is dying. I don’t
hear 911 at the door.
So what about all those moments in between - called our
life - called the dash between the two
numbers on our tombstone.
I found this other moment mentioned in a quote from the
Spanish writer, Jorge Borges. He said, “Any life … is made up of a single
moment - the moment in which a man finds out … who he is.”
I’ve had that moment from time to time - sometimes in a
mistake - sometimes in a question mark - for example I once was giving a few talks in Washington
D.C. once to about 150 DRE’s - Directors of Religious Education from all over
the country - and at the first coffee
break - a woman came up to me and asked, “Do you know what you’re doing?” I
became silent for about 10 seconds and looked this lady in the eye and said,
“Yes.” I had to think for a moment. And
sometimes that moment and is a glorious moment - like being half asleep - being a priest - driving fast
to the ER at Anne Arundel Medical Center
- at 2 AM - or standing here in this pulpit a few years back preaching at my 50th
anniversary Mass.
Yes it’s taken a lot of life - but I know who I am - and
I thank God for that. Amen. How about
you?
