Memories of Wounded Wombats

A brief memory...

Years and years ago -- actually during my senior year of high school -- I was introduced to the writings of H. H. Munro (1870-1916), who wrote under the penname Saki. A wonderful writer of very funny stories, Munro lived far too short a life. During World War One he enlisted in the British Army as an ordinary trooper, even though he was already in his mid-forties and certainly would have been offered an officer's commission. Sadly, like so many of the UK's most promising young men, Munro did not survive the war. He died in November 1916 after being shot by a German sniper during the Battle of Ancre.

Anyway, my initial introduction to Munro's work back in 1961 consisted primarily of his stories featuring a rather odd, young Edwardian named Reginald. I went on to read almost everything Munro wrote, but especially loved the Reginald stories. Reginald was a clever, affected, witty, and sometimes heartless young man who nevertheless caused me to laugh out loud as I turned the pages of Munro's brief stories.

I can't say why, but occasionally, very occasionally, certain phrases become cemented into my rather unreliable memory. Among these is a phrase that appeared in a Munro story, Reginald's Rubaiyat. For some reason, the phrase -- "Where the wounded wombats wail" -- simply never left my regularly accessible brain cells. I suppose its retention stems from the oddity of it all. At the time, I realized only that a wombat was some sort of strange Australian marsupial, but I couldn't have described this odd critter even under torture. In truth, I know little more about wombats today.

But if you need an occasional laugh -- and these days, who doesn't? -- read Saki's stories. As a New Year's gift, I thought I'd share the following opening words of the brief story mentioned above, describing a typical event in young Reginald's life, as he injects wounded wombats into a less than promising poem.

The other day (confided Reginald), when I was killing time in the bathroom and making bad resolutions for the New Year, it occurred to me that I would like to be a poet. The chief qualification, I understand, is that you must be born. Well, I hunted up my birth certificate, and found that I was all right on that score, and then I got to work on a Hymn to the New Year, which struck me as having possibilities. It suggested extremely unusual things to absolutely unlikely people, which I believe is the art of first-class catering in any department. Quite the best verse in it went something like this —

“Have you heard the groan of a gravelled grouse,
Or the snarl of a snaffled snail
(Husband or mother, like me, or spouse),
Have you lain a-creep in the darkened house
Where the wounded wombats wail?”

What does it all mean? Your guess is as good as mine...or Reginald's.

Happy New Year to my small but select group of loyal readers...

Homily: Solemnity of Mary, Holy Mother of God (1 Jan 2020)

I have embedded a video of this homily below. The text of the homily follows the video.

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Readings: Nm 6:22-27; Ps 67; Gal 4:4-7; Lk 2:16-21

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Theotokos Icon

1,600 years ago, at the Council of Ephesus, the Church gave Mary a title: Theotokos, a Greek word meaning “God-bearer.” In bestowing this title on Mary, the Church confirmed that, as the Mother of Jesus Christ, true God and true man, she is truly the Mother of God.

This is the feast we celebrate today: the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Her title has its Scriptural roots in the story we all know – the story Luke tells in those early chapters of his Gospel.  We’re all familiar with it.

The Annunciation by the archangel Gabriel in Nazareth, and how the young Mary agreed to bear the Son of God, the Savior of the World. Yes, Luke describes Mary’s role vividly and leaves us with words we can never forget: 

“Let it be done to me according to your word” [Lk 1:38].

Mary's Magnificat

And then Mary, filled with the Spirit and carrying the Son of God in her womb, leaves immediately to make the long trek to Judea to visit Elizabeth. By visiting Elizabeth Mary really visits all of us. She carries Jesus to young and old, to the unborn John and to his aging parents. She carries the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And she proclaims this wonderful news in her song of praise and thanksgiving, the Magnificat.

“He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation…He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty” [Lk 1:50,52-53].

Yes, Mary, the first Christian evangelist, spreads the Good News, telling the world of God’s mercy and justice. And thanks to Luke and the Holy Spirit we receive this Word of God. 

Because it’s the living Word of God, you and I are truly present there in the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth listening to Mary as she praises God and thanks Him not just for herself, but for all of us. We are there, just as we are present months later in the rolling hills outside of Bethlehem. When the angelic host appear to the shepherds, we are there among them to hear the Good News proclaimed from heaven itself. Indeed, this is exactly what the angel reveals. Listen to his words, the words you’ve heard so many times:

“Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you Good News of a great joy which will come to all people” [Lk 2:10].

This isn’t a message just for a few shepherds. No, it’s the Good News of Jesus Christ, a message for all people.

As Mary proclaimed, all of this happened according to God’s promise “to Abraham and to his descendants forever” [Lk 1:55]. We, brothers and sisters, are these descendants of Abraham, our father in faith; for God promised him that he would be the father of a multitude of nations. It’s a universal promise, a catholic promise. And because we are there with Mary, the shepherds and Abraham, this revelation places a demand on us. 

Just as the shepherds went on to glorify and praise God for all they had heard and seen, we too are called to do the same. And it’s really not something we should put off. For throughout these first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel, we detect a sense of urgency. When Gabriel reveals that Elizabeth will also bear a son, Luke tells us that Mary set off in haste. Our Blessed Mother didn’t delay in carrying out this dual mission of hers. For not only was she the God-bearer, the carrier of the Good News deep within her, but she also carried God’s love to someone in need. 

Both acts were of such importance that neither could be delayed. Yes, Mary set off in haste; but she wasn’t the only one. How did Luke describe the shepherds’ response in the passage we just heard?

“The shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger” [Lk 2:16].

Moved by what they had seen and what they had heard from the angels, they could do no less. How blessed they must have thought themselves, for they would be among the first to set eyes on the Messiah so long awaited by God’s people. Is it any wonder that they left...

"glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them” [Lk 2:20].

Shepherds Receive the Good News

We too have received the Good News, brothers and sisters. We are all called to carry it to others, not in word alone, but in deed as well. Yes, Mary is the God-bearer who brought Our Lord into the world and presented Him as the Father’s gift to all of humanity. The shepherds of Bethlehem received that gift with joy and willingly and openly carried it to others. 

What a remarkable gift it is! It’s a gift of love, arising from God’s hope that we will turn from our sinfulness and accept Him into our hearts.

It’s a gift of divine forgiveness, of His outrageous mercy, a gift that will trump the power of sin and overcome all hatred, violence, revenge, addiction…all the evils of the world.

It’s a gift of Jesus Christ Himself, a gift we receive in a most special way.

When we receive the Eucharist today, when we receive the Real Presence, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, you and I also become God-bearers, carriers of this gift. But what will we do with it? Will it change us, as it changed Mary, as it changed the shepherds?

Just as Mary carried Jesus to the world, we are called to carry Him to all the others in our lives. As the shepherds proclaimed the Good News of salvation, we are called to proclaim this message of hope to a world too often sunk in despair.

As we celebrate the beginning of a new year, let’s learn from both Mary and the shepherds, and follow their example. Worshipping here together on this feast of Mary, the Mother of God, let’s join her in a prayer for peace: peace in the world; peace in our country; peace in our cities and communities.

Pray for peace in our homes; but most importantly, pray for peace in our hearts.

Pray that the darkness of sin will be overcome in this world and that the light of love — the way of Mary’s Son — will take hold in our hearts and the hearts of all.

And so, let us today bless our world and each other with the words of blessing God gave to Moses and Aaron:

“The Lord bless you and keep you! 

The Lord let his face shine upon
you, and be gracious to you! 

The Lord look upon you with kindness and give you peace!” [Nm 6:24-26]

Renewing Your Spiritual Life

Despite the ever-lengthening Christmas shopping season and all the hubbub surrounding it, this holy day always seems to arrive suddenly. Advent, the liturgical time of preparation for the Lord's coming, just flies by and I'm usually left with a sense of spiritual incompletion, of things left undone. Here we are, just three days from the celebration of Our Lord's birth, and I find myself wishing I had done a better job tuning out all the commercial noise that tries to overwhelm any expression of the true Christmas message. Pushing aside these distractions, I have decided to look ahead to the New Year and the opportunity to change things, to grow spiritually. 

When it comes to the spiritual life, I've always believed it best to keep things simple, and so I was particularly pleased to stumble across an interesting piece written by Fr. Thomas Bolin, OSB, a Benedictine monk of the Monastery of San Benedetto in Italy. His article offers us seven simple principles of the spiritual life. Three principles address our relationship with God and four focus on how we should live our lives. Here they are in brief:

1. To keep God in mind at all times.
2. To trust in God as much as possible.
3. To do all things for the love of God.
4. Not to trust in oneself.
5. Not to seek oneself.
6. To do all things with joy.
7. To be as energetic as possible.

Fr. Thomas

If, like me, you want to deepen and renew your spiritual life, following these principles is certainly a wonderful way to do so. To understand better how to incorporate them into your life, read Fr. Bolin's article. It's not long and well worth a few minutes of your time. Here's the link: Seven Principles of the Spiritual Life. By the way, for those who are interested in topics related to Holy Scripture, Fr. Bolin's book, On the Inerrancy of Scripture, is available in an online version.

Father Bolin, an American who graduated from Thomas Aquinas College in Santa Paula, California (from which our eldest daughter, Erin, also graduated), earned a Licentiate of Sacred Theology (S.T.L.) from the International Theological Institute in Trumau, Austria, and is now working on his doctorate from the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross in Rome. 

Best wishes for a holy and happy Christmas.

Happy New Year...Slightly Delayed

After an absolutely wonderful visit with us here in Florida, our elder daughter, our son-in-law, and five of our beautiful grandchildren returned to their Cape Cod home three days ago. Having them all here for Christmas was a special treat for us, for there's something about Christmas -- the celebration of Our Savior's birth -- that demands the presence of children. And with five little ones -- ranging in age from nine years to three-months -- staying with us for two weeks, their presence was certainly evident. We loved every minute of it.

But now the house is once again empty and silent...well, relatively empty and silent since Diane and I don't take up too much space and live a pretty quiet life together. I've resisted taking down the Christmas decorations because I enjoy them so much and their absence seems to make the house a bit less joyful. But I will finally take on that task today, place them in their boxes, and try once again to find room in the attic. Like the Church, as it makes its way through the liturgical year, we will return to more "ordinary" time and begin to focus on Our Lord's pilgrimage to Calvary and the promise of the Resurrection, along with our own pilgrimage as we strive to live the Christian life.

That we are now in the eleventh year of the 3rd millennium boggles the mind. As I age each new year seems to come more rapidly, as if time itself has been compressed making each subsequent year appreciably shorter. I'm pretty sure this apparent shortening of days is a universal perception, something we all experience, and probably results from the busyness that fills our adult lives and the fact that we have ceased being surprised at, or even noticing, what the world places before us. Most children lead lives of relative leisure, as they should. And in that leisure they are able to observe and absorb the surprises that creation offers them. So much that children encounter is new and they tend to savor that newness, enjoying all that comes their way.

If we adults could be more like children and take the time to appreciate and enjoy the remarkable creation that God has given us, perhaps time for us would slow down as well. Here in Florida, for example, we are blessed with all kinds of interesting creatures, everything from alligators to egrets, marvelous animals and birds that show off God's creative power. I particularly enjoy the large birds that gather daily in the ponds near our home. I took the photo below last year during a day-trip to the town of Dunedin on Florida's west coast. We had walked to the end of a small pier when a large egret landed right next to us, obviously looking for a handout from some of the locals who were fishing off the pier. As I approached the large bird, he obligingly turned his head, presenting me with his best side. I love the photo because in the details one can view the perfection of God's creative act. I hope you enjoy it as well. (Click on the photo to view it in higher definition.)

May God bless you all in this new year, helping you grow in faith and love.