He knew death was now in that room along with the whole
family and tears and wonderings about, “What’s next?”
With one hand still on his dad’s bony shoulder,
he reached for his father’s hand with his other hand.
He held it. He moved it. He lifted it. He rubbed it. He wanted his dad to give him some kind of a signal with a grab or a grasp that he knew we were all here.
At first there was no response – but he didn’t give up.
He then took his dad’s hand into his hand again.
He held both hands. He was gentle – because the
arthritis in both of his father's hands had made him bumpy and boney.
As he was holding his daddy’s hands with his hands,
obvious memories flowed from his dad to him.
He remembered his daddy’s hands lifting him onto his 2 wheel bike as he walked him 10 times around the block. His daddy’s hands were his training wheels.
His remembered his daddy’s hands feeding him and leading him and showing him how to throw a football and how to hold a fishing rod.
Their hands were joined spontaneously in a circle around their daddy. Their dad was unconscious, but they were very conscious of this being close to being a last moment with daddy. They said a loud "Amen" together. Suddenly their dad said an added “Amen” - as his eyes sparkled. They closed their eyes and held their hands tighter. Two minutes later he was dead - surrounded by love with all hands were on deck: family. For some reason they separated hands and started clapping, clapping, and clapping - tears, tears, tears.
That’s an English translation of an image in today’s
first reading from Genesis 4: 8.
The New American Bible – the translation we use at Mass –
uses the English Words, “Demons at the door.”
TWO MOMENTS: BAPTISM AND SIN
Let me mention two moments that help me with the phrase, “Demons at the door.”
The first moment happens when I’m baptizing a
little baby. The tiny baby boy or girl
is being blessed at baptism. He or she is celebrated, welcomed into the church
– becoming part of the body of Christ.
I compare the moment of baptism with a scene in the TV
movie, “Roots.” The new born baby, Kunta Kinta, is brought out into the jungle in the night and is lifted up to the sky. It's a moment of thanksgiving.
I get that - that new born babies are celebrated, honored, lifted up to God in thanksgiving. I love moments at Baptism when a little baby
is held and up and photographed in the arms of various people. Welcome kid to the
human race, to the Church, to life. It’s like lifting up the newborn bread and
wine – the body and blood of Christ - at every Mass.
I like those moments at Mass, at Baptism, in everyday
life – when a grandmother or great grandmother or great grandfather – hold and
lift up a baby.
That’s the first moment. I get it. I celebrate it.
The second moment is the tricky one. It's the reality of not only goodness and celebration of life - but it's also a moment we hear about sin.
So at every baptism I feel and hear about sin - original sin and evil, and I don't like that feeling.
When the
deacon or priest doing the baptism talks about sin and original sin – in
relationship to this new born baby, I feel ugh. This little 10 to 20 pound tot – is all
innocence – and we’re talking about original sin in the baby's presence.
That always feels a bit off key for me.
I’ll have the same thought and feeling this Wednesday – Ash Wednesday – when
a mom or dad will come up the aisle here at church for ashes - and they are holding a little baby and they
present their baby for ashes. The deacon, Eucharistic minister or priest says
one of two prayers as they put ashes on the little baby’s forehead.
“Repent and believe in the Gospel.”
Or
“Remember you are dust and into dust you shall return.”
Either formula or statement feels funny to me in the
presence of a little baby.
The kid was just born and we’re talking about repentance
or we’re talking about death and dust.
That’s the first moment – from the experience of Baptism
and also Ash Wednesday – and babies. SECOND MOMENT: YETZER HARA
So I have trouble with picturing little kids sinning, making mistakes, etc. Then I got an insight about this second moment about sin.
It happened to me when I was reading Bill
Moyers’s book about the Cain and Abel story in Genesis 4. That's where I read for the first time about a Hebrew phrase, “YETZER HARA”.
It’s translated “Demons at the Door” or “The Evil Inclination."
This I got. We all have inclinations in us - for good and for evil. We see these inclinations in kids - and they are much more visible than us older folks.
Somewhere along the line little kids steal the cookie,
pinch their new born baby sister – who is getting all the applause, attention,
holdings. I remember going to see my new born grand niece. Her mom brought in Olivia and placed her right in front in one of those little child carry ons - that work perfectly for car rides with kids. Just as I'm about to make funny sounds and signals to Olivia right in front of me, Benjamin - the first born - walks over and sits right on top of Olivia - facing me and blocking her from my sight. Kids can do these things. Haven't we all been there for a Christmas morning present openings. Parents stand there with camera in hand - to photograph the scene. Let the unwrapping begin. Uh oh, with one eye on what they got, the other eye is on what their siblings got. Suddenly, sometimes, a kid drops his present and heads for his little brother's gift and wrestles it away from his sibling. Screams erupt. Cameras are put down. Parents try to separate kids. The door to their demons has been opened. Their evil inclinations have arrived.
From reading about YETZER HARA – I learned about the
reality of the evil inclinations we all have.
Down through life we call them temptations, evil.
They are in everyone.
That reality that I can sin – gets me in touch with what original sin
means. It’s right there in that phrase – and a lot me.
FULGHUM STORY
One of my favorite religious humanism writers is Robert
Fulghum. I get his stories and I get his books.
On my thoughts for today – I always remember the story of
the young father who is with his little tiny son – going through a supermarket. A loud crash happens. The box-boy who takes care of disasters is running towards the smash and the crash of a shopping cart. He has with him mop and broom. A little boy is sitting in the mess on a bag of ripe tomatoes - on top of what was part of the pickle shelf. The boy has tears, saliva, cuts, blood and a running nose happening on his face. "The kid has also wet his pants and will probably throw up before this little tragedy reaches bottom." The boy's father has been here before. His inclination to want to disappear has arrived. He wants to run - run - run. He wants to disappear for life. That what the YETZER HARA is.
There’s Jesus in the gospels – leaving the crowds. Jesus
didn’t have original sin – but here in today’s gospel – it seems he gets
frustrated with the crowd who want signs – and he gets into a boat – and heads
for the other shore.
In yesterday’s gospel he told the man he healed of
leprosy, to not tell anyone but the priest at the temple. Did Jesus do that because he didn't want to be overcrowded? Did Jesus do that because he didn't want to be overwhelmed. Did Jesus want to run at times? We Christians believe that Jesus didn't sin, but he was human in all things as sin as
This stuff I get – and we all got the YETZER HARA.
PAUL TALKS
ABOUT THIS IN ROMANS
Augustine seems to have been caught by Paul’s description
of all this in his letter to the Romans. I tell myself, I won’t let this happen
again. I gossip. I overeat. I get drunk. I’m lazy. I hide. Nope, I say to
myself. That’s the last time I’ll do that and I go out the door and walk right
back into my problems.
Cain let his jealousy and anger take over and he invites the demons at his
door, to enter into his mind and heart and behavior and kills his brother Abel.
CONCLUSION
This is the stuff of Lent.
This is the stuff of struggle.
This is the stuff of being able to laugh at ourselves.
This is the stuff of humility.
This is the stuff Jesus came to help us with.
Come Lord Jesus – don’t run away from me.
February 16, 2015
UNOFFICIAL
SOUNDS AT CHURCH
The church was filled with the usual
Sunday Morning crowd. The usual ushers
were ushering in folks to their preferential seats.
People were checking watches and cell phones.
Two or three kids were letting out some preliminary
sounds and screams. Various folks were looking
around at the different visitors, regulars, and giving
signals to friends they knew
various places in town.
Then the silent conversations began.
Some sat there - eyes closed in prayer - for family,
neighbors, relatives and friends.
Others were
busy making inner comments about themselves,
what’s going on in their lives, or that priest up there
and so and so at the organ. Horrible music as
usual. Why don’t they get a new music director.
And what’s with that lady in the fourth row – in
that dress. Doesn’t she know she’s in church?
And that teenager - the one
there with the tattoos.
And God looked at all who were there this morning –
rejoicing at all these people – all these people who
were there for all kinds of reasons: feeling emptiness
or they were chewing the cud of anger
or they felt
the need for bread from the table or wine from the
table this Sunday. Amen. Come Lord Jesus. Amen.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
IT WAS VALENTINE’S DAY
[For a change of pace, since it was St. Valentine’s Day yesterday, I decided to write a love story.
Since today’s First Reading and Gospel talk about folks with skin problems, I
made up this story yesterday about 2 people with skin problems and did a second
draft of it this morning. So the title of my story is, “It Was Valentine’s Day.
This is totally fictional. The 2 characters in the story don’t exist, but in a
way, I hope they do.]
It was Valentine’s day and Jack and Jill seemed to be the
happiest couple in The Cozy Corner Restaurant.
They were in a booth over in the corner – laughing and laughing - and
enjoying and enjoying - their steak and chips – red catsup on both – as well as
strawberry milk shakes and heart shaped cupcakes for dessert.
The Cozy Corner Restaurant was bright lights – no low
lights and candles restaurant – certainly not a Valentine’s Day Restaurant.
Jack and Jill knew it wouldn’t be too crowded.
It was not only the 9th anniversary of their
wedding – but also the 10th anniversary of their engagement:
February 14th.
They met in rehab – both back from Iraq – both wounded warriors from the
First Gulf War.
Both were wounded big time by I.E.D’s -
Improvised Explosive Devices.
Jill lost her sight – and had serious scars on forehead
and face. Jack lost one ear. His face
was also seriously burnt and damaged for life.
Serious plastic surgery was performed on both of them – but … well –
they had both been seriously scarred.
Recovery was slow – not just of skin and body – but also
of soul and spirit.
The miracle happened when both met in the same rehab center.
The more they talked, the more the skin of their souls healed.
Jack popped the question
- Valentine’s Day – 10 years ago. His best line was: “Hey, Jill, I
recently realized the two of us can make one person. So will you marry me?”
“Yes, of course, I’ve been wondering when you’d ask.”
They did.
At first sight, some people upon seeing them - would
shake their heads, close their eyes and turn away from them.
“Ooooh!” And “Ooohs” can have many interpretations – some
of them hurtful.
At first it annoyed Jack that people would do this – but
what made up for it at times – was that Jack knew Jill – being blind - couldn’t
see other people’s faces.
At times - people who knew or got to know Jack and Jill –
would wince and tighten their fists – but not at Jack and Jill – but at looks
and comments by others.
Once - a college kid said, “Look at the stranger rangers
over there – Ugly and Uglier.” One drunk college guy yelled “Hey lepers!” And
the drunk’s girlfriend laughed.
As they grew older – those who knew their story – would
call them, “Beautiful and More Beautiful.”
After rehab – after getting married - they both went to
the same college – and both got the same Master’s Degree - in Social Work. Since
Jill was blind this made Homework and studying together that much easier.
They worked – together - many times - both at 3 different
Veterans Administration Hospitals – helping in the healing of so many wounded
warriors.
The Army discovered they were great speakers – and their
gig was great – not just for those in the military – but also others – who had
heard about them.
They loved to say out loud in talks to military folks –
as well as to others - who were in the
pits – or suffering from depression – or wounded from serious accidents or what
have you, “I’m Jack!” “I’m Jill.”
They would continue, “And many people thought we were over the hill
– because of our injuries. But as you can see here we are – not over the hill -
we’re here fetching and giving out pails of clear cool water.”
If it was February, and it was an all-male group of
wounded soldiers, Jill loved to say – sort of with a whisper and a cautious
look around the room, “Love healed both of us. Laughter healed both of us.
Meeting each other healed us. Then she would add: “Jack’s greatest compliment
to me so far was, ‘Jill, it’s February. It’s the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit
Edition time, and I’m not interested in seeing anyone but you.’”
That always got a big, “Ahhh!” – except for some
exceptional Christians.
Then Jill would say, “And when I first heard that, I
asked, ‘Jack what’s this Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition?’”
Sometimes they would throw into their talks to wounded
warriors, “We’re both Christians, Catholics, and we both love the gospel
stories when Jesus healed people with skin problems – called ‘Leprosy’ back
then.” Well, we discovered first hand – we’re being Jesus to each other –
because Jesus healed folks – and our love for each other – healed us together.”
They also loved to say, “We didn’t know it back then –
when we had great skin, the more we discovered what it is to have been burnt or
wounded – we learned that everyone feels ugly – or hurt or burnt – from
rejections, from broken relationships – from family fights – from this and
that.
And they would love to conclude, “Yes, we have two
beautiful kids, Lucy and Dezi. And yes, they’re funny, but you should see
their skin.”
“Well, when I walk into a room, I feel nobody really knows me”
“Oooooh!”
“Then sometimes when I'm standing there with a somebody, I see them looking over my shoulder at others – for someone more interesting.”
“Interesting.”
“Then they make some faint get-a-way comment.”
“Wait, a minute, don’t
run. Get back to what you’re feeling when you say to
yourself, I’m a temporary person.”
“Well, yeah. People bolt away from me all the time.”
“Well, do you feel if
any of this is your fault?”
“Of course…. I
always think it’s my fault.”
“Bummer. That has to
hurt – to think that way
about yourself. By the
way do you agree
with yourself when you
say it’s your fault?”
“No, of course not. I’m me, but I sense nobody
really knows me – or even cares to know me.”
“Well, I know you a bit.”
“You, no I don’t sense that you know me.”
“Well, you’re telling
me you feel like nothing and that ticks you off
– or you’d like more attention,
so I think I
know that about you.”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m simply saying I feel
like a temporary person – an in-between person –
a someone, someone
uses for the moment
till someone better comes along.”
“Oh, sorry to hear you
say that – about yourself.”
“I’m also sorry to hear that I said that about myself.”
“Well, that's a start....”
“And by the way, that last comment you made was
something I needed to hear. I sense everyone is on the edge of everyone. We hesitate to enter into other people – because if we let go and become friendly or marry another, we have a chance to grow … to know … other people – and become less alone and less lonely.”
“I like that. I would
sense that’s a healthy way of thinking and becoming a person
who’s getting to know themselves.” [PAUSE - ANOTHER LONG PAUSE]
“Thanks. Thanks for trying to listen to who I am." "You're welcome." "Let me add: and if I listened to myself the way you’re
listening to me, maybe then I’ll stop calling myself a temporary
person.”
