SINNERS
IN THE PULPIT
October 28, 2011
Quote for Today
"Only the sinner has a right to preach."
Christopher Morley [1890-1957], Tolerance, p. 863
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
WANTING CREDIT
October 27, 2011
Quote for Today
"The food is cooked in a pot and the plate gets the honor."
Yiddish Proverb
Questions:
On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the highest, how important is it to you who gets the credit for a job done?
Have you ever been furious - when you did most of the work - and someone else - the boss - or another person gets all the credit?
Can you say the following when you are not recognized: "There are two kinds of people: those who do the work and those who get the credit"?
Have you ever done nothing in a work situation and you got all the credit? What did you do next?
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
TWICE HAVE I STOOD A BEGGAR
BEFORE THE DOOR OF GOD
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this 30th Wednesday in Ordinary Time is, “Twice have I stood a beggar / Before the door of God.”
That’s a line in Poem # 49 by Emily Dickinson. The poem is dated c. - circa - around 1858. I like to give titles to my homilies - as well as my poems. I find it rather interesting that Emily Dickinson simply numbered her poems - or somebody numbered her poems #1 to #1775 in her collected poems - after various gatherings of her poems were put together. [1]
We know her sister Lavinia - going through her sister’s stuff - after Emily died - found a small box containing about 900 poems “tied together with twine”.
That line from Poem # 49 stops me - with a question: “When have I stood a beggar before the door of God.”
TODAY’S GOSPEL
Today’s gospel triggered the memory of that line by Emily Dickinson.
In today’s Gospel, Luke 13: 22-30, Jesus talks about going to Jerusalem. Which gate did he enter? On Palm Sunday he certainly didn’t take the narrow gate - which the gospel talks about. Then Jesus jumps to the image of a door - the locked door. And some people get in and some people are shut out. Some people get stuck outside and grind their teeth in anger, fear and regret and some get into the banquet.
Less than a week from now on All Saints Day people will be singing and praying, “When the Saints come marching in I want to be in their number - when the Saints come marching in.”
What will happen when we die? Will we stand before the Pearly Gates and cry for entrance? Will that door be narrow? We don’t know. We are dying to find out - but not yet. Yet, it seems to me that wondering sits there as a stone statue of a question outside that door all our lives - especially in times of near misses - accidents - and as we get older.
Emily in Poem # 49 seems to be talking about 2 deaths - 2 people buried in the sod. Not everyone agrees with that interpretation. She begins, “I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod.” And then comes the line I entitled this homily with: “Twice have I stood a beggar / Before the door of God.”
Death is a tough slamming of a door. I miss conversations I had with my brother. I regret conversations I didn’t have with my dad - and my mom. My last two family deaths were closed coffins: my mom and my brother. If you saw their skulls, you’d know why. Messy. But I did see the closing of the door of the casket in a few other family deaths. Tough moment. Tough stuff.
And we all know about having the door slammed in our face: losing a job, divorce, people moving, being misunderstood and the other refused to hear our heart.
So we understand Emily Dickinson’s poem - and the little I dabbled in her life - she understood the meaning of being misunderstood. She knew the meaning of being a beggar at the door of God or another.
The second verse of Poem #49 is obviously religious. It’s a no-brainer in that she uses capital letters for God - calling God a Burglar - a Banker - and a Father. Let me recite it. It’s also very short like the first and other verse:
Angels - twice descending
Reimbursed my store -
Burglar! Banker - Father!
I am poor once more.
CONCLUSION
The title of my short homily is a line from a poem by Emily Dickinson: “Twice have I stood a beggar / Before the door of God.”
I’m presenting it as an image of prayer - to stand at the door of God and beg - to stand at the door of God - and groan - as prayer is described in today’s first reading from Romans 8: 26-30.
Let me close with this prayer adapted from Emily Dickinson's poem and pray this to God:
I am poor once more, Lord.
I am poor once more, Lord.
Open up your door when I knock.
Peak out your window
and see me standing there,
this poor beggar - and
open up your door,
when I bang on it,
otherwise I’m going to keep on knocking
till you open up your door for me. Amen
NOTES
[1] The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson, Little, Brown And Company, Boston, Toronto
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
OF THE MIX
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this 30th Tuesday in Ordinary Time is, “In The Middle of The Mix!”
There are reflective words and images, poetry and prayer, in the middle of the mix of today’s readings.
TODAY’S FIRST READING FROM ROMANS
The first reading - Romans 8: 18-25 - talks about suffering and groaning and the labor pains of life - and in the middle of the mix of sufferings and struggles - there is revelation - and hope - and the first fruits of the Spirit.
Suffering and struggle reveal that we humans hope. Those with nasal and chest congestion and colds and coughs - hope for relief and healing. I know I do. Those who come to church to pray for children and those with cancer and crushing family stuff - hopefully find the Spirit of God in the middle of the mix of it all - as we beg God for better for us and for all. People in church are like people on a train platform looking down the tracks - looking at our watches from time to time - waiting for signals that our train is coming.
Paul here in Romans 8 talks about the earth creaking - and shaking. We had another earthquake in Turkey the other day - so too our bellies and belly aches - and brain and our head aches.
I’m not making this up to be poetic. Listen to Paul again.
We know that all creation
is groaning in labor pains even until now;
and not only that, but we ourselves,
who have the first fruits of the Spirit,
we also groan within ourselves
as we wait for adoption,
the redemption of our bodies.
For in hope we were saved.
Now hope that sees for itself is not hope.
For who hopes for what one sees?
But if we hope for what we do not see,
we wait with endurance. [Romans 8:22-25]
TODAY’S GOSPEL FROM LUKE
Today’s gospel from Luke13: 18-21 continues with two images - male and female images.
The farmer plants mustard seeds in the ground - with the hope, with the image, with the knowing that in time the mustard bush will sprout. Green in brown earth is one of nature’s flag - waving to us a hope. Then the farmer sees that plant grow and rise from the earth - and reach out for the sky. Can you see the smile on the farmer’s face as he sees the birds of the air nesting, singing and enjoying the mustard.
The woman makes bread. She mixes the dough and the yeast. She’s done it a thousand time. The bread is in the oven. She knows how life works - how long it takes to bake bread and make babies in her oven.
We humans know how long life takes. It varies of course. There are life’s horrors and surprises - tragedies and accidents. Yet at least we hope for 70 to 90 - as long as we don’t have too many things creaking and leaking and our brains can still do crossword puzzles, Sudoku’s and we can yell out the answers while watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune in our own home - and we have a smile on our face when we know the answer ahead of those on the program.
CONCLUSION
In the middle and the mix of the Mass we pray for these things.
In the middle and mix of this life - we pray, we’re grateful, we groan and gripe, we laugh, because like the mustard seed we’ll be planted in the ground knowing that’s not all there is - just like the mass of flour and dough and yeast know the heat of the oven is just part of the process. There’s bread on the rise; there will be bread on the table each morning.
Monday, October 24, 2011
SLIP SLIDIN’ AWAY
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this 30th Monday in Ordinary time is, “Slip Slidin’ Away.”
It’s the title and theme of a song by Paul Simon - of Simon and Garfunkel fame.
If you use a computer type into Google, “Slip Slidin’ Away song by Paul Simon - You Tube” - and listen - and listen - and listen - or hit the triangle above and listen and listen and listen.
I noticed a comment under one You Tube version of Paul Simon singing the song - sent in by someone - that went like this: "i lost my mom 3 months ago. and my dad 3 years ago. and im 19 and my brother is 16, we miss them so much. they used to dance together to this song. RIP love ya.”
What a beautiful life scene for two sons to see - their parents dancing together to this song, “Slip Slidin’ Away”.
Life is slip sliding away.
Stop at slip. Sometimes life slips away - as in an “Ooops!” - A sudden drop - a sudden surprise finding out we have a heart problem or there’s cancer or the marriage of a son or daughter is finished. I see slips as quicker and more sudden than slides - not necessarily - but that’s how I see them.
Sliding - seems to happen slower - as in a pencil rolling down a slanted wooden top.
Life is a slip sliding away.
So Paul Simon sings about, “I know a man…. I know a woman…. I know a father ….” and in each case the person mentioned is experiencing life slip sliding away.
Listen to some of the lyrics. I can’t sing - but I can read his lyrics:
Slip slidin' away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
I know a man
He came from my home town
He wore his passion for his woman
Like a thorny crown
He said Dolores
I live in fear
My love for you's so overpowering
I'm afraid that I will disappear
Slip slidin' away
Slip slidin' away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
I know a woman
Became a wife
These are the very words she uses
To describe her life
She said a good day
Ain't got no rain
She said a bad day's when I lie in bed
And think of things that might have been
Slip slidin' away
Slip slidin' away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip slidin' away
TODAY’S READINGS
In today’s first reading from Romans Paul announces that we have a choice of living in fear or living by the Spirit.
Which is me?
Fear or Spirit? Fear or Freedom? Alive or dead?
I remember discovering that I was praying down deep a prayer without knowing it for I don’t know how long. I would be praying - but really praying this other prayer. It was from Luke: “Lord, teach me how to pray!” It slipped in without my knowing it. Then without knowing it, that prayer switched to, “Lord, teach me how to love.”
When does a person switch from just saying - just reciting - just repeating - the words of “The Our Father” - to coming into the presence of God as “Abba” or “Daddy.” Do they just slip slide into that?
When I read in today’s first reading the word “adoption” I thought of kids whom I met who are adopted. How long does it take that kid to say, “daddy” to their father? Does it just slide into their conversation - without their being aware of it? Did they hear other kids call their dad, “Daddy!” Does a father notice it - like in noticing the first word or first step they see a baby take?
I would assume that a woman would be very aware of the first time she slid into a pants suit - if she always wore a dress - till that moment. I would also assume that a person would be very aware when they slipped into their first tattoo - or high heels - or brand new car.
I would assume that much of life is slip sliding.
In today’s gospel - Luke 13: 10 to 17 - Jesus slips into the synagogue for the first time since Luke 6:6 when he cured the man with the paralyzed hand. I didn’t notice that he slipped out of the synagogue for over 6 chapters till I read that in a commentary this morning - in preparing this homily. I think that’s what triggered the words, “slip slidin away”.
I thought about this woman whose back had been bent over for 18 years. Did that happen gradually? I assume it did. And Jesus healed her and the leader of the synagogue complained that Jesus did this healing on a Sabbath. When did he become so harsh and cold and crippled himself? Was it for 18 years? Jesus healed this woman - but was the leader of the synagogue healed?
Do healings happen suddenly or slowly?
May we all be moving in the best direction slowly or suddenly - slip sliding into the Freedom of the Children of God - that Paul talks about in today’s first reading.
CONCLUSION
Someone handed me a copy of a Hospice Pamphlet entitled, "Gone From My Sight - The Dying Experience" by Barbara Karnes. The author, Barbara Karnes, says "Death is as unique as the individual who is experiencing it."
Reading the booklet triggered all kinds of memories and moments - especially being with people who were dying - and the people around them who were experiencing the life of a loved one - dare I say it - "slip slidin' away".
I kept wondering if I will be aware of all this when it's one to three months prior to my death - then one to two weeks - then one to two days, to hours prior to my death.
It hit me slowly as well as suddenly - the value of slipping into the synagogue to pray - to be with God Our Father - Abba - Daddy - and see Jesus coming up to us. "Lord, teach me how to die - but first, Lord, teach me how to live. My life is slip slidin' away.
Listen to that song. Get to know yourself. We’re all slip slidin’ away. May we all be slip slidin’ into better and better ways of seeing and doing and living life.
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