INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this 14th Sunday in
Ordinary Time [C] is, “Marks On Our Memory.”
Marks - nicks, smudges, dents, scars, graffiti….
I read today’s readings a couple of times - to get a
theme to think about - and to preach about.
A comment in the second reading from Paul in his letter
to the Christian community in Galatia hit me: “From now on, let no one make
troubles for me, for I bear the marks of Jesus on my body.”
So that’s where I got the title and theme for this homily
entitled, “Marks on Our Memory.”
What’s Paul saying there? Is it the same message a mother says when a
kid is driving her crazy: “Hey I still have the stretch marks from when I was
pregnant with you. I still have the wrinkles from when I worried many a sleepless
night about you - when you were sick as a kid - and when you were a teenager.”
I suppose St. Paul was thinking about all the cuts and
bruises he got - ever since he started his journey to bring Christ to the world
- that he too has experienced a daily way of the cross. In 2 Corinthians 11:25 he says, “Five times I had the 39 lashes from
the Jews; three times I have been beaten with sticks; once they threw stones at
me; three times I have been shipwrecked and once adrift in the open sea for a
night and a day.”
Talk about marks - scars - memories…. Life.
MARKED FOR LIFE
If we think about it, daily living brings daily
struggles; daily struggles bring cuts; and cuts leave scars.
If we think about it, we are marked for life from where
we’ve been and what we’ve been through. We have cuts and scars, dents and
scratches, on the skin of our soul - on the places we have been.
We notice that first dent, that first bump, that first
scratch on a new car.
We kneel there at the dead body of a loved one in a casket
- in the funeral parlor and we’re saying a Hail Mary for them using the rosary
in their hands and we notice a scar on the back of their right hand. We think,
“I wonder what happened there.”
The next time you’re in someone’s house, sit there and
look around at all you can see in the room you’re in: photographs on end
tables, paintings on the wall, knick knacks on book shelves - and then there is
the water stain up there in the corner of the ceiling or a dark spot on a rug.
I wonder what happened there. I wonder why that picture
is there.
As Forest Gump said, “It happens.”
In today’s first reading from Isaiah he tells Jerusalem
to rejoice in all the good things that happened there. Other writings could
talk about the bad things that happened in Jerusalem through the years - the pockmarks of war on her walls, the houses
that caved in, the loose bricks on her sidewalks.
Life is the lifting of a glass of wine in celebration at
a sidewalk café - seeing the beauty of a city or downtown area with folks
walking by with ice cream in hand. It’s also the “Uh oh’s!” and the “Oh no’s!”
of broken pipes and shootings and signs telling us that a road is closed for
maintenance.
Today’s gospel has Jesus sending out his disciples - 72
of them - and Jesus says bring peace, bring healing, and eat with the folks who
feed you. But some folks might not be so peaceful, so shake the dust of that
place off your feet and move on. There are plenty more places than this place.
NOT SO EASY
The title of my homily is, “Marks on Our Memory.”
Sometimes the magic marker graffiti of a 3 year old
doesn’t come off.
Sometimes the spaghetti stains can’t be removed even with Magic Off Whitener. Sometimes
when we’re waiting for medical results at 66 we worry about a mistake we made when
we were 26.
It’s hard to forget our mistakes. It’s easy to regret our
mistakes.
Who said we have to forget our mistakes? Who said forgetting is part of forgiving?
Forgetting is part of dementia and aging.
So we have our demons and our dust…. We have our snakes
and our scorpions…. There are lambs - but there are also wolves.
So life is mixed. But we seem to remember - and spot our
chips and our cracks more than the
perfect wall or rug. In this homily I’m stressing seeing and celebrating them -
because they are who we are and how we got here.
A WONDERFUL
STORY
In my last assignment - preaching parish missions out of
St. Gerard’s Parish in Lima, Ohio, I was driving to the next parish with Tom,
the priest I worked with for 8 ½ years.
In the car on the way he told me three stories he had -
and asked me which of the three should he use.
He told me 3 stories he found. I listened while driving.
He finished # 3 and I screamed, “The second one. Use the
second one.”
Here’s the story that he told. It went something like
this. I don’t know who wrote it - or who
told it - but it was a gift to me that trip - down a highway of life.
Every week or so, two good friends would sit down in the
afternoon, have a cup of tea and talk some sweet talk about their lives with
each other.
They both were farmer’s wives.
The visitor was sitting there and the phone rang. When the
lady who lived in the home answered the phone, the other lady stood up to
stretch and just happened to look into the dining room.
“Ooops,” she said.
The lady who lived there said it was her husband who just
called to tell her he’d be home 15 minutes late for dinner.
The visitor said, “I’m sorry. It looks like you’re having
guests in for supper and here I am talking away.”
“No,” said the lady. “It’s only us for supper tonight.”
“Well, why is the dining room table all set up.”
“Oh,” she answered, “We always have one big fancy dinner
one night every month and tonight’s the night.”
“And I put out our best china and best silverware - best
cloth napkins - and one favorite meal of someone.”
By now both were in the dining room and the visitor was
admiring the best of everything on the dining room table - including crystal candle
ware.
Then the lady who lived there said, “Everything on the
table has a story. Some of these plates go back to my great, great
grandparents.”
Then she stopped at her place and said, “And here is my
favorite plate.”
It was a plain white plate - but it had a piece missing
along the rim.
She had a beautiful smile on her face as she said, “Let
me tell you the story about this plate.”
I was 17 at the time. It was a summer evening and my dad
and my three brothers and a buddy of one of my brothers was standing there with
them ready for supper.
They were haying and they were going to go back out after
supper for another two hours of work. It was Daylight’s Saving Time and there
would still be plenty of light for work and it would be cooler.
Well, I had never seen this buddy of my youngest brother
before. He introduced this young man to me and winked at me and made me sit
next to him at this dining room table.
During the meal my brother was trying to bust me about
this guy.
At one point my brother handed me the heavy cold water
with ice pitcher and said pointing to his buddy on the other side of me, “Fill his
glass with more water.”
I did, but nervously…. Putting the pitcher back down on
the table, I put it down onto my plate
and chipped the edge of the plate. People were talking and laughing and I
didn’t think anyone noticed it.
First chance I got when supper was over, I got this plate
back into the kitchen. Phew.
Then the boys and my dad went back to work on this farm.
I was in the kitchen. My brother came in with his buddy
and said, “Aren’t you going to say ‘Goodbye to Tom.”
I did. He held out his hand to shake it goodbye and when
he did he put the tiny chip from my plate in my hand and smiled.
Then after a long pause the woman told her visiting
friend, “That chip of china is upstairs in my jewelry box and Tom and I were
married a year later.”
CONCLUSION
The title of my homily is, “Marks on Our Memory.”
We all have the same story. Chips and pieces from the
breaks of our lives - splinters from the crosses of your lives - are in our box
in the upper room of our skull - and they are all part of whom we have become.
I think that’s what Paul is telling us in today’s second reading - but it’s
good to check out and read and tell our story to another - like the 72
disciples in today’s gospel who came back to Jesus - to tell him what happened
in their journey.
Two by two…. sound
familiar? Any couples here?