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]

RISEN CHRIST 

Quote for Today - Easter Sunday - April 24, 2011

"The risen Christ, when he shows himself to his friends, takes on the countenance of all races and each can hear him in his own tongue."

Henri de Lubac, Catholicism, 1927

HOLY  SATURDAY

How about changing Holy Saturday
to Silent Saturday or Empty Saturday?

Why?

Well, I stopped into church this morning
and it felt so silent and so, so empty.
I saw the empty tabernacle with its doors
left wide open. That was different.
Next I looked at the empty cross
from last night’s Good Friday service.
Next I sat down in the empty benches
all alone, realizing there will be no singing
or public praying till tonight’s Easter Vigil.

Silent Saturday. It seems like
a good idea to shut down the prayers
and the public gatherings and just be.
Churches can be too noisy,
too much of the time – people
and priests unable to pray without
words – having to stuff “Hail Mary’s”
and “O my Jesus” into every second.
Today I just feel the need for a day
like today to just take some time
and walk around in nature’s church,
and see spring beginning, spring springing,
or to take some time to just sit
in the silence of an empty church –
especially on this Holy Saturday morn.

Okay!
Maybe “Holy” is better for this Saturday.

“Where have they taken my Lord!”
Where did you go Lord Jesus – after
they took you down from the cross,
after they took you out of your mother’s arms,
especially when she wouldn’t let go –
after they put you in the brand new
empty tomb – where did you go?

Scriptures and creeds and knowers,
say you rose again the third day
after you suffered death and were buried.
Icon makers and visionaries with great
imaginations have you wandering around
in the clumpy complicated underworld
of death – reaching for Adam and Eve
and meeting patriarchs and prophets –
and all those who have gone before you.

Okay. But I don’t wonder about this
on this Saturday morning. I want silence.
And tomorrow I want Easter Faith
and the hope of waking up after I die
and meeting you, Lord Jesus, and all
those I have met not enough in this life.
How this happens I really don’t care.
When I die, I just want to hear you Jesus
standing at my grave, screaming out my name –
and if you do this the very second
after I die, all the better. Amen.

+++++++++++++

Icon on top: Harrowing of Hades  - by Dionisus (15th Century) - in the Ferapontov Monastery - which flourished from the 15th to the 17th centuries. It is located in the Vologda region of northern Russia.

FASTING,  PRAYER

AND COMING TOGETHER

Quote for Today - Holy Saturday  - April 23,  2011

"You shall come together and watch and keep vigil all the night with prayers and intercessions, and with reading of the prophets, and with the Gospel and with psalms, with fear and trembling and with earnest supplication, until the third hour in the night after the Sabbath; and then break your fasts."

Anonymous: Didascalia Apostolorum, 21. (3rd Century)

SIMPATICO

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this Good Friday is, “Simpatico!”

I’m taking this theme from the second reading we heard tonight. [Cf. Hebrews 4: 14-16; 5: 7-9]

The author of the Letter to the Hebrew is describing Jesus – as a great high priest. He writes, “Brothers and sisters: Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession.”

Then he writes, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses….”

Then he says that Jesus is approachable.

That’s my basic message in this Good Friday homily. Jesus is approachable, because he can sympathize with us. Jesus is “simpatico.”

OUR EULOGY

Wouldn’t “simpatico” be the one word we all would want in our eulogy? Wouldn’t we want our kids to describe us as approachable – understanding, sympathetic, empathetic – in a word, “simpatico”?

I’ve told at least 2 dozen people over the phone in my life – who live at a distance – and they are looking for a priest to talk to about a problem, “Go to churches in your area for Sunday Mass – and sit there and listen to the priest and watch him – and then ask and listen to your gut, “Could I talk to this guy? Is he approachable? If not, go to the next church?”

Looking back at our life, what principal, what coach, what boss, what teacher, was our favorite?

Of course we would want people that challenged us, people whom we learned from, but I’m willing to bet that one of their key ingredients – if not their best quality – was their ability to sympathize – to understand.

As the State Trooper on the highway approaches us with ticket pad in hand and we were going only 10, ten measly miles, over the speed limit, don’t we hope he or she has simpatico?

Don’t we hope the judge we approach – when we’re trying to get out of jury duty – has 10,000 ounces of simpatico? We gotta get out of this. We have take care of our Aunt Lizzy on Monday, baby sit for our daughters kids on Tuesday, etc. etc. etc.?

I remember I was on Jury Duty in New Jersey and I was in Jury Pool G and they were selecting jurors. We were standing in the back waiting to be called one by one to be one of possible 14 jurors in a case. Members of our pool would go to a seat, sit down, be asked a few questions, and then selected or rejected by the prosecution or the defense. Our occupations were listed next to our name. My name was called. I got to the seat – sat down – and no sooner had my butt touched the chair – did I hear the words, “Rejected” or whatever the word was. When those of us who were dismissed got back to the big holding room, we rejects were talking and someone said of me to our group. “Priest. Automatic reject Father. Automatic. You heard the case. Two guys raped another guy in prison. The prosecution would expect you to obviously be sympathetic.”

That hit me. Of course. That’s what people would hope in confession or whatever from a priest. Smile.

JESUS – SIMPATICO – BIG TIME

If we read the scriptures with this idea in mind, it’s obvious that Jesus was big time simpatico. This is what the Letter to the Hebrews we heard tonight pointed out.

He was born in a stable with animals. He came from a poor village. He reached out to people others were avoiding. He said, “Let the person here without sin, cast the first stone!” when the Scribes and the Pharisees wanted to trap him by bringing to him a woman caught in adultery. [ Cf. John 8:1-11]

That Jesus was filled with sympathy for others hit me as I was putting together this sermon today for Good Friday. That Jesus was filled with sympathy is the heart of the matter.

The word “simpatico” – originally coming from the same spelling word in Italian – then becomes the same word in Spanish, “simpatico,” and “sympathique” in French, and “sympatisch” in German. All have in the word, the original Greek and Latin words “pathos” and “pathia” meaning feelings, emotions, experience.

Good Friday is all about “The Passion of the Christ.”

Jesus cried, screamed, almost despaired, was lonely, felt all alone, needed companionship, these days, these nights, during this week of Passion – when he was celebrated on Palm Sunday, when he celebrated a big meal with his disciples, one of whom betrays him, when Peter, James and John, his 3 best friends, slept when he asked them to stay awake because he need them, when they all run away when he’s arrested, when he imprisoned, beaten, bloodied, crowned with thorns and beaten again and made fun of.

This Good Friday afternoon when he was judged and condemned to death, he didn’t get any sympathy from Pilate or the crowd, who chose a thief over him, screaming, “We want Barabbas!” and then they screamed, “Take him away, take him away! Crucify him!”

As priest I’ve gone through this Good Friday service a good 46 times. Now I’m not sure about this, but I sense, the younger the crowd, the louder the rejection – the older the crowd the more hard it is to say, “Take him away, taken him away! Crucify him.” and to yell, “We have no king but Caesar.”

SUFFERING AND SINS – MISTAKES AND MESS

Suffering and sins, mistakes and mess, make us more sympathetic – or can make us more sympathetic.

I often reflect on the quote I heard 40 years or so ago, “Suffering enters the human heart to create there places that never existed before.”

I always remember Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story where one woman says to another woman – a woman who is very proper and very priggish, “You know you ought to go out and commit a really good sin and then you might understand the rest of us.”

How many women have told me they have much more sympathy towards those who had an abortion after their moms or daughters told them that they had an abortion?

I remember hearing a priest give his A.A. talk and in it he told about all the mistakes he made in his life and I said to myself, “If I ever got messed up, here is the first priest in the United States I would call up and head to see.”

How many dads have told me that they became much more understanding of men who are gay, after their sons came to them and told them they were homosexual?

The Letter to the Hebrews says Jesus our High Priest went through it all – all except sin – but he can sympathize with our weaknesses – so let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.

TONIGHT – THIS GOOD FRIDAY

Tonight – this Good Friday evening – stand under this gigantic cross and understand why well over a billion people in our world – still hang with him.

Tonight as you come from all parts of this church to kiss the cross of Jesus – know it’s the person who died on this cross – we’re centering in on – the one who died in excruciating pain. This is the Christ – this is the one whom we can always go to for sympathy – simpatico – love – passion – the one who knows our feelings – our passion – our passions.

Tonight, let us realize the more we unite with Christ, the more we will leave this church – and become simpatico with all the rest of us poor slobs and sinners in this world of ours. Amen.

SPEECHLESS

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for Good Friday Morning Prayer is, “Speechless.”

That’s a strange title for a sermon which hopefully is “sacred speech”.

“Speechless in Annapolis.”

My main point will be: “Good Friday evokes awe – oooh – and – silence.

READING FROM ISAIAH 52: 13-15

“See, my servant shall prosper, he shall be raised high and greatly exalted. Even as many were amazed at him – so marred was his look beyond that of man, and his appearance that of mortals. So shall he startle many nations, because of him kings shall stand speechless; For those who have not been told shall see, those who have heard shall ponder it.”

Speechless is the word that jumped out of the reading in today’s morning prayer for Good Friday. In Isaiah 52: 15 the writer says when people see the servant – the so called “Suffering Servant” – people will be startled and kings will stand speechless.

I stopped and thought about that. I asked when have I stopped and found myself speechless in the presence of another person.

A FEW EXAMPLES

A few years back I received a call from Anne Arundel Medical Center. We love Father Pat Flynn and now Father Joe Krastel, because they both love going up to the hospital and seeing lots and lots of people. I was on duty and got to the hospital and a nurse escorted me into an area I never was in before. It was an operating room. I said to myself, “Uh oh. Oh no!” A whole team were in the middle of an operation. The key doctor said, “Father we couldn’t wait – so we started without you. Could you anoint this man and say some prayers over him. We need all the help we can get.”

I was speechless. I was stunned. Then I anointed his forehead only –not the palms of his hands. There were tubes everywhere. I then spoke some prayers and walked out and the team said, “Thank you!”

Afterwards – as I was taking the surgical mask off, I stood there speechless – thinking, “Did this just happen?” It was a first for me – but I did hear that surgeons can be talkative at times. I’d guess it could be nerves – or the first time they did a big operation they were speechless.

I once was sitting with a couple who were to be married here at St. Mary’s. At the first preliminary meeting I noticed the guy had a metal leg. It was badly wounded in Iraq. As I heard his story, I became speechless. Being an officer, he was picked out for sniper fire – and they got him. Messy. Messy.

Haven’t we all seen someone who had been severely burnt – or what have you – and we’re speechless – especially because we didn’t want to say the wrong thing – or even let our face or body language say the wrong thing?

Well, in this reading, the author is telling about the Suffering Servant who will be raised high and will be greatly exalted. However, he’s also going to have a horrible looking face and body.

After the word, “speechless” the next key word for me was “marred”. I looked it up in my 7 different translations of the Bible. Most of the translations used the word “marred”. Next I wondered what the Hebrew word was – not that I know Hebrew – but I always find this sort of investigation interesting and informative. The Hebrew word is “MISHCHAT” and the English words that are used to translate it are meaning “marred”, “defaced”, “deformed”, “distorted”.

CHRIST

Is it any wonder that the text from Isaiah was used by Christians to describe Christ – who also was marred, defaced, deformed and distorted.

I’m sure you’ve all seen really bloody images of Christ on the cross – or you saw the movie, “The Passion of the Christ” and I’m sure you were speechless – as you sat there or stood there.

I started working on this homily yesterday afternoon and then we were out at St. John Neumann’s last night – and as I sat there looking at the gigantic cross – I continued wondering about this theme of “speechless” and “marred”. Of course I wasn’t doing this during Father Jack Kingsbury’s homily. I was wondering if the question came up when the team and I understand the parish was asked about that crucifix. “How bloody!” “How disfigured?” “How marred?”

I’m sure they and the artist who made that gigantic body for that cross thought about impact – feelings – prayers – that this work of art would evoke.

I wonder what folks who come to St. John Neumann think and feel when they see that gigantic crucifix. I have to come up with a sermon for this evening for the Good Friday service.

CONCLUSION

I’m sure all of us – the more we go through this day – the more Good Fridays we go through in our life – that we all become more and more speechless – in the presence of a God – who was willing to come to us – who was willing to take taunts and spit – and rejections – and beatings – and a crowning with thorns – and then die for us.

Today – listen – watch – notice – Good Friday – this day – around our world is quieter than any other day of the year.

What will be your few words today – if any. A lady was telling me recently that the last two words her husband said to her – as he was dying were, “Thank you!”

That left me speechless.

THE CRUX - THE CROSS -

OF THE MATTER

Quote for Today - Good Friday - April 22, 2011

"It is true, and even tautological, to say that the Cross is the crux of the matter."

G.K, Chesterton [1874-1936], The Everlasting Man, (1925)

Photo on top - a scene along a farm road in Croatia