[For a homily for this morning - this 3rd
Sunday after Easter - I decided to tell a story. I was working on a sermon for
this Mass - using a few ideas from what I heard the Pope saying in his new
letter - AMORIS LAETITIA - the Joy of Love - but I realized - I need to do a lot
more homework on that. I wrote this story last night for today’s
8 AM Kids Mass - but it went right over their heads. So I adulterated
this a tiny bit - and decided to use it on you. I’ll be listening and watching
for your reactions.]
Once upon a time there were two brothers - Peter and
Andrew.
Pete and Andy - for some of those who really knew them.
For the sake of transparency, my name is Andy - but this story is not about
me - as you’ll see. It’s more about Peter
- and what kind of person he was.
Now for starters Peter and Andrew were as different as
night and day.
Peter was outspoken - talked a good game - but not that great on follow up - but down deep he was a scared- E cat.
Andrew on the other hand was quite quiet - not really
noticed. He was as they say - like background music - just there - but down
deep he was serene and secure.
Peter got all the notice. Andrew was never noticed - that
is - till someone needed something. Andrew was the type who knew whom to ask
and how to get what was needed - when it was needed - especially when someone
was stuck.
But Peter is the heart of this story. He’s the main
character in this story - so let me spend the rest of telling this story about
him.
Peter had a handicap. It’s called LF. Those who knew him
- wondered if he was born this way or whether he got this way somehow.
LF - tough handicap.
LF is not something you want to get - because if you get
it - you got a handicap that’s hard to get over. It’s invisible - but it can
chew you up - and mess you up - especially in the mind and how you think.
As a kid his parents took Peter to a child psychologist
who sat and listened to him for a couple of sessions - and sure enough - the
diagnosis was LF.
As you know LF stands for Love Fixation.
Love Fixation. LF.
Now this was not a National Enquirer type Love Fixation.
It is the human need for love type fixation.
Love? Well, we all know what love is - but maybe not at
times - because this is where Peter had his problems. Yet every little kid who says,
“I love you - somehow knows - it means appreciation, thanks, presence,
security, and ice cream on summer evenings.
Fixation? Now that’s a tricky cat to capture or to cage -
to understand - and to put into words.
Fixation? Little kids get what fixation means - that is,
till you try to explain it. Examples are better - so let me try to give a few examples of fixation.
A kid can’t stand it when the gravy gets too close to the
mashed potatoes on his supper plate. That’s GF - Gravy Fixation. Or the peas and carrots get mixed together.
Oooh! That’s a no no for some kids. That’s the P & C F - the Peas and
Carrots Fixation. Orange and green - no - no - no.
Or a kid can’t stand it when his sister bends the playing
cards when they are playing rummy - or she bites the edge of the cards when she
thinks she is about to win. She needs just one card - and then she can scream
“Rummy.”
Fixations are often about little things - like who sits
where at the kitchen table or who gets the end cut of the meat loaf or the
birthday cake - or I can’t stand it when there are croutons in my salad. Oooh.
Ugly tiny brown square toasted bread - croutons - I hate them - with a hate fixation.
HF.
But fixations can be about big things as well - like
whether we are loved or not. And this is precisely, exactly, what LF is about.
A lot of people - in various degrees - spend too much
life energy - on LF.
Peter would ask his mom and then his dad every morning -
when he was a little, little kid, “Do you love me?” At first they would say, “Of course we love
you - and give him a little hug.”
Andrew knew his parents loved him - so he didn’t have LF
- and he didn’t have to ask, the “Do you love me question?” over and over
again.
When the child psychologist told Peter’s parents that
Peter had LF - they were besides themselves. “Uh oh! What did we do wrong?”
But as he talked and met with them, he told them that he
as a child psychologist was asked by Peter several times - every time they met
- “Do you love me?”
Hearing that, they went, “Phew, we’re not the only ones.”
His teachers had the same experience. Did they love Peter?
His grandparents had the same wondering? They were often asked by Peter, “Do you love
me?”
So this is Peter - the kid and then the high school kid
with LF.
Peter would ask everyone if they loved him.
Peter was fixated on being loved and did all he could to
experience being loved.
But it seemed nothing worked.
He would bring cookies to the principal of his school and
then ask, “Do you love me?”
On his little league baseball team he would keep asking
any adult coach or volunteer, “Do you love me?”
His brother Andrew slept in the lower bunk of their bunk
beds and often at night - in the dark - he would hear Peter asking God, “Do you
love me?”
That would get Andrew to pray for his brother Peter. That
would get Andrew his brother to do things for Peter - so that he would feel
loved.
But nothing worked - at least that’s the way it seemed.
Peter felt worthless. Peter didn’t feel he was loved. Peter had a bad case of LF.
This went on all through elementary school and well into
high school.
A teacher stepped up - wondering if he could help Peter
with his problem. He typed up a card that he put special words on - and had it laminated. He told Peter to keep
it in his wallet. He did. Whenever he
felt the need to ask someone, “Do you love me?” he was to take out his wallet -
take out the card - and press his thumb and index finger into the card.
That worked a bit, the older he got.
In high school he dated a few girls, but they would drop
him - as soon as they realized he had LF. He would ask them, “Do you love me?”
over and over again.
These girls were smart enough to notice people do this -
not just boys. They would see other girls who would try to bribe them with
gifts - in order to get into their
cliques. And they wanted into the cliques and groups in order to get appreciation and love.
Well, Peter was doing the same thing - in his own way. He
had the hope, he would realize and feel he was loved. He could be a nuisance
- and a pest - with his constant question, “Do you love me?”
He didn’t know that his parents, his teachers, his
brother, all wanted him to get better - and that wanting to see him get better
was one way they loved him.
People with LF - don’t get that people say, “I love you”
in a thousand different ways - not just with words.
They need the words…. They don’t know that the key to
love is that the words need to take flesh and live and move and make their way
in us.
So nothing seemed to work - but stories love to have
happy endings.
This one does and here it is.
One day Peter was at Mass - it was after Easter - and the
reading was from the Gospel of John.
It was a story about Jesus and Peter - and Peter liked
Peter the apostle - hey he was named after him.
Peter had been fishing for love all his life and it
seemed that he was never catching it.
That Sunday morning he heard this story about Jesus
asking Peter 3 times, “Do you love me?”
“Do you love me?” “Do you love
me?”
“Oh my God,” Peter said to himself, “Jesus had LF!”
He had heard those letters - LF - from adults, when he heard them talking
serious about him. They would think, that this kid wasn’t listening - or
wouldn’t understand - but little kids - little kids with LF especially - are
listening. They are listening very carefully - hoping to hear if they are
loved.
“Oh my God! Jesus had LF! He just asked Peter 3 times if
he loved him.”
That hit Peter - right in the deepest part of his mind
and heart.
“Well,” he thought, “if Jesus could have LF, I can have
it.”
And after that Mass, he couldn’t wait to say to his mom
and dad and his brother Andrew, “Thank you for loving me!”
They didn’t notice it right away - but by lunch time that
day, they realized something was different about Peter. He was cured of his LF
handicap.
And from then on, he forgot about himself, and just
simply and calmly loves everyone he met - because he knew he was loved and
lovable - and they were too. Amen.
