Verses Recalled

I just discovered something shocking...well, I suppose shocking is a bit hyperbolic, but it's not a good thing. Apparently school children are no longer required to memorize poems as they study English literature in middle and high school. According to my reliable source — a current high school teacher of English — many schools ignore centuries of great English and American literature, preferring instead to focus on modern novels by writers like Stephen King. And poetry? Apparently, at best, it's back-burnered or completely ignored. I hope this is not true, or at least not universal.

If you're my age or even a few years younger, I'm pretty sure you were exposed to at least some of the English language's great poetry, and probably had to memorize many of those poems. I can still recite some of them, so burned into my memory were those lines. A poem like Gerard Manley Hopkins' "Pied Beauty" will always be with me:

Glory be to God for dappled things -- 

    For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

        For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches wings;

    Landscape plotted and pieced -- fold, fallow, and plough;

        And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

    Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

        With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

                                        Praise him.

(Although I can still recall all the words, I had to look up the punctuation.)

The first time I read this poem, in my eighth-grade classroom, I was intrigued by its sounds, by the flow of the verse, but I hadn't a clue what all those strange words meant. I then made the mistake of mentioning this to Sister Francis Jane, O.P. In doing so I had talked myself into another homework assignment: "Find out," she ordered, "and tomorrow you can tell the class what you discovered." 

The next day, I introduced the class to another new word -- new, at least, for me -- "paradox"  -- and went on to explain, very poorly and nervously, how God fills the world with wondrous things that show off the variety and surprise of His creation. It's a creation, too, of opposites that display His glory. And, perhaps not surprisingly, man, in his own use of nature's gifts, imitates God. 

My brief commentary resulted in lots of blank looks and no applause, but one cute girl with long, auburn tresses seemed mildly impressed, so it was worth it. Of course, I ended up angering the entire class because "Franny Jane" (as we affectionately called Sister behind her back) decided that everyone should memorize the poem...lots of groans and dirty looks directed at yours truly.

And how many of you had to memorize Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken"? Once again the words have remained with me. I found Frost's poetry refleshing because I could understand what he was saying without turning to the Oxford English Dictionary. It just took me a while to comprehend his deeper meanings related to the choices life places before us. And with that, Franny Jane introduced us to symbols and metaphors and similes. 

There's so much more verse tucked away in my aging memory banks -- poetry by Shakespeare, Tennyson, Pope, Dickinson, Francis Thompson, and many others -- and like the songs we loved in our youth, I can recall these poems and savor them when life's challenges demand a touch of calm or a reminder of reality. How sad that the memories of many of today's children will be empty of such wonderful poetry, for poetry introduces us to the fullness and intensity of language. Indeed, poetry, for me, is another proof of the very existence of God, in whose image and likeness you and I were created. The Creative Word presents us with a perfect divine song, a gift from a loving God who fills His creation with the objects of our poetry.

An Apology...of Sorts

Over the years a number of readers have felt obliged to inform me of typos or grammatical and other errors that have made their way into my posts. It had been a while since I’d received one of these reports — not because I’ve made fewer errors, but because these readers have likely tired of telling me about them and receiving no response. 

Recently, though, I've received emails from two (count 'em...two) new readers who have pointed out that my posts sometimes include typos or other errors. This apparently upsets them. I can appreciate their concern and when I spot an error or typo I now try to correct it after the fact. Of course, this rarely happens since I almost never re-read my posts once they're posted. I'm also a very bad proof-reader because I find it too difficult to read every word -- all thanks to a speed-reading course I took in graduate school in 1971.

I also suspect that those who complain suffer from a mild case of OCD and just can't stand the presence of any kind of error, no matter how slight. One recent complainant actually mentioned the absence of a possessive apostrophe, the only error she spotted in a rather long post. I may be too forgiving, but it seems to me such an error hardly merits mention so long as the sentence remains understandable. But then, I’m a bit loosey-goosey when it comes to my writing. I tend to write quickly and rarely return to make corrections or improvements. This haphazard approach is probably evident to most readers. I’m certain the late Sister Francis Jane, O.P., my eighth-grade teacher, would not be pleased with me. Convinced that God had created a well-ordered cosmos, she was a stickler for the the properly constructed sentence. 

Anyway, to those who are bothered by the occasional typo, my apologies. I hope you can overlook these minor failings. At least I'm not a tattoo artist.

I will try to do better in the future, but can promise nothing. And please, feel free to let me know of any bothersome errors and I will promise to correct them forthwith. 

 

I'll use this post as a test .

God's Peace...

Life in the Spirit

A few days ago I was privileged to conduct one session -- on "Salvation" -- of a Life in the Spirit Seminar at our parish. My talk follows.

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Good evening, and praise God!

When Marge asked me to take part in this Life in the Spirit Seminar, I said, "Sure. Happy to help." Then she said, "Your topic will be 'Salvation.'"

My first thought was, Well, that's a nice concise, well-defined topic. It covers only the entirety of our human existence - our sole reason for being. And I have to address it in 30 minutes or less. Thanks a lot, Marge.

But then I recalled some advice I received early in life: You can take what you're given and try to do your best, or you can turn to God in humility and ask for the Spirit's inspiration. God's work is always far better than your best.

Indeed, if we let Him, the Holy Spirit will give us the words, the Word of Salvation. So, I decided to take that advice and turn it over to the Spirit. I'll just try to be God's mouthpiece.

Let me begin by briefly describing my own journey to life in the Spirit, a journey that really began when I married Diane.

Diane, brought up a Southern Baptist, had spent time among the Methodists, and during her college years finally settled in with the Pentecostals. It was then that she experienced a Baptism in the Holy Spirit. Now by the time we married, she had converted to Catholicism.

A few years later, while living in Monterey, California, she encouraged me to attend a Life in the Spirit Seminar put on by our parish's charismatic prayer group.  And not long after that I experienced my own vivid Baptism in the Spirit. It was an event that completely changed me. I believe ultimately it led me to the diaconate.

The Holy Spirit Present In the Church

Anyway, about five years after this, I guess it was about 40 years ago, Diane and I and three of our little ones (I think she was pregnant with number four) were enjoying a day at the San Diego Zoo when I was approached by a couple of teens, a boy and a girl. They were members of a strange cult, popular in Southern California at the time. They called themselves the "Children of God".

They handed me one of their tracts and then the boy asked, "Are you saved?" I simply replied, "Yes, I am, but I'm still working on it."

I don't think they knew what to make of that response, and so the girl said, "If you're saved, you're saved. That's all there is to it."

So I expanded my comment by telling them I was just following St. Paul's advice when he told the Philippians to "work out your salvation with fear and trembling" [Phil 2:12].

Now, don't think that I'm so clever and quick that I came up with that response off the cuff. No, indeed, I'd encountered these young folks on several occasions, and had always just shooed them away. But one day I realized I should probably respond. Of course, by this time I had experienced that Baptism in the Holy Spirit, so I was used to coming to Him for help. And so I did.

He led me to Jesus' words in Luke:

"For the holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say" [Lk 12:12]

and again in John:

'He will teach you everything..." [Jn 14:26]

In effect the Holy Spirit told me not to worry about it. But then I heard these words, and I heard them just as you're hearing my words right now: "...Just stay close to me." 
Well, after I'd quoted St. Paul, the boy chimed in with "Paul was wrong. Jesus told us not to fear." They then scooted off to accost someone else.

Of course, they were wrong, not Paul. Yes, they were very wrong, because St. Paul and Jesus were speaking of two very different kinds of fear.

Paul was referring to a reverential fear that moves us to do God's will because of our love for Him. He wasn't speaking of a servile fear or fear of punishment. Indeed, the fear Paul speaks of is a gift of the Holy Spirit, the "fear of the Lord" that comes from an understanding of the reality of who God is and who we are. It's a sense of reverence and awe at the majesty of God and a healthy revulsion at the very thought of sinning against Him.

Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom [Prv 9:10]

But when Jesus tells us not to fear, he's speaking of a very different kind of fear, a fear of the things of this world. This is the fear that as Christians we must abandon, for it keeps us from a personal and trusting relationship with Jesus Christ. Quite simply, if we're afraid of the world, how can we trust in Jesus? We can't.

Fear not, I am with you

And believe me, in my days as a Navy pilot I encountered my share of very scary situations, times when fear could easily rise up and take control. But on every occasion, I just turned to the Holy Spirit in trust, and told Him, "It's yours, take it from me, just as you promised." And do you know something? He always did.

But what does all this talk about fear have to do with our salvation? Actually, it has everything to do with it. Let me show you why.

I suppose the first time I really thought very deeply about my salvation was in eighth grade when Sister Francis Jane looked out at our class of 40 boys and girls and asked us: "Does anyone here not want to go to heaven?"

No hands went up, although there were a few scattered snickers. I'm not sure why, but 13-year-olds tend to snicker at pretty much everything.

Sister than asked, "How do you plan on getting there? Any ideas?"

With that a bunch of hands went up. Of course, they were all attached to girls.

One girl said, "By obeying the Ten Commandments," and another, "By loving God and my neighbor," and a third, "By helping others, especially the poor," and these were followed by three or four similar responses. I think one boy finally joined in and said, "Drop your envelope in the basket."

That generated a few more chuckles, all from the boys, until Sister gave us "the look." She then said, "You all seem to think that you can earn your way to heaven. Well, let me tell you, that's not how it works."

She picked up that big Bible of hers, turned to Luke's Gospel and read that passage in which the sinful woman comes to Jesus while He's dining at the home of the Pharisee Simon [Lk 7:36-50].
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A Pharisee invited him to dine with him, and he entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table. Now there was a sinful woman in the city who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee. Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment, she stood behind him at his feet weeping and began to bathe his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.

When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner.”

Jesus said to him in reply, “Simon, I have something to say to you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

“Two people were in debt to a certain creditor; one owed five hundred days’ wages and the other owed fifty. Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both. Which of them will love him more?”

Simon said in reply, “The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven.”

He said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? When I entered your house, you did not give me water for my feet, but she has bathed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but she has not ceased kissing my feet since the time I entered. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she anointed my feet with ointment. So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; hence, she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.”

He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”  The others at table said to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

But he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
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Did you notice that throughout her encounter with Jesus the woman said nothing; the dialog is all between Jesus and Simon. 

Yes, she said nothing, but her actions said everything. She bathed Jesus feet with her tears, drenched them with expensive perfumed oil, and then dried them with her hair. Unlike Simon who as host hadn't extended even the most basic hospitality to Jesus, the woman was over the top. Her love for God, her love for Jesus was so great...But why?

Jesus gives us the answer in His dialog with Simon: because she knew she'd been forgiven. Jesus, you see, explained it all to Simon (and to us) when He said:

"So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; hence, she has shown great love."

In other words, this display of love on her part resulted from the forgiveness of her sins, which had already occurred. When Jesus followed this by saying to her "Your sins are forgiven," He merely confirmed what she already knew. But then he says, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

And so, what are we to make of all this? Well, it's really all of one piece, wrapped up in those three theological virtues of faith, hope and love.

Faith, we are told is a gift, a gratuitous gift. And I think we can all accept this, since in our sinfulness we are certainly less than deserving. This is where the Holy Spirit steps in, for He is the gift-giver. He is the source of that desire, that need for God, that movement within us, which opens us to the gift. He rends our hearts; He tears open the human heart so Father and Son can dwell there.

Speaking with the twelve the night before He died, Jesus told them:

"Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him" [Jn 14:23].

This indwelling is the work of the Holy Spirit, for Jesus had already told the apostles:

"The Father...will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth...it remains with you, and will be in you" [Jn 14:16-17].

Yes, the Spirit, the Advocate, does God's work in the world, and He does God's work in each of us. I sometimes refer to the Holy Spirit (almost sacrilegiously) as God's Workhorse. It's just a metaphor, Lord. In a sense He's the behind the scenes manifestation of God's Presence in the World. He does God's work in the world. But it's more than that.

Every Sunday, we come together and proclaim the Nicene Creed aloud, confirming the totality of our faith. And in doing so we utter those words:

"I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life..."

What life? Well, the Creed doesn't qualify it, does it? It specifies no exceptions. The Holy Spirit is the giver of all life.

The Holy Sprit, the Lord and Giver of Life

He is the giver of our bodily, earthly, material life and the giver of eternal life. He stands abreast that path to salvation, calling us, directing us. And so, with this in mind, let's return to our sinful woman...

Filled with the Spirit, and with the hope He offers, she is moved to seek out Jesus. My mother used to say, "Hope moves us; it moves us to faith." That's what hope does. It moves us, it drives us despite our fears, despite everything the world throws at us.

Did the sinful woman have reason to fear? She certainly did. From a human standpoint she risked a lot. She risked chastisement, ridicule, condemnation, the public exposure of her sins, perhaps even physical harm. And in approaching this holy man, who was in the presence of those who despised her, from a human perspective she might well have feared His reaction. Yes, humanly, naturally, she should have been afraid.

But she wasn't...because she had accepted the Spirit's gift of faith, a supernatural gift that dissolves all fear, that instills hope, a gift that calls us to trust, that calls us to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It was through her acceptance of that gift that the Holy Spirit revealed the divine person of Jesus, a gift that called her to love, to worship. It was her acceptance of that gift that moved her to repentance that gave her hope, allowing her to accept the forgiveness Jesus offered.

It's one divine gift after another. And it was hope that drove her to come to Jesus, that revealed His forgiveness of her sins. Filled with faith, and driven by hope, she can only love. Her love is directed solely at Jesus, the source of her salvation.

Do you see what's happened here? Like the sun burning off a morning fog, the Spirit within her has burned off her fears. They have simply evaporated. The Spirit revealed several things to her:

1. She is a sinner, but that forgiveness is available to her; she need only repent;

2. The Lord, Jesus Christ, is the source of forgiveness;

3. Her hope is real, forgiveness is hers. Salvation awaits.

She believes, she repents, she's forgiven, and she loves.

It's through this simple process of faith, repentance, forgiveness and love that Jesus offers her the gift of salvation - something that He confirms when He tells her:

"Your faith has saved you..."

Salvation then is her eternal reward. But that's not all. There's also a temporal reward.  Jesus added something. Did you hear it?

He added three words: "Go in peace."

She will also be rewarded in this life with the gift of God's peace. And what is God's peace other than hope realized?

That's what I learned in the eighth grade from that good Dominican, Sister Francis Jane.

Now, some Christians consider salvation a one-time experience in the life of the Christian - that we need only accept Jesus in faith as our Lord and Savior and we are saved - no matter what. Such a teaching, however, ignores the reality of human life, of human nature itself. You see, sad as it is, you and I remain sinners, constantly in need of repentance and forgiveness, called to love until our last breath. Called, like Paul, to work out our "salvation with fear and trembling."

Yes, salvation is a gift, but one that demands more than an intellectual acceptance, more than an emotional acceptance. It demands the acceptance of a lifetime. It confronts us with a choice: We can reject the gift, turn away from God, either out of fear of the worldly consequences, or out of despair because of the magnitude of our sinfulness; or we can accept the gift and turn to Him in love.

This demands a radical change, an abandonment of the life that precedes it. Once again the sinful woman shows us the way. She ignores the many fears through which Satan tried to turn her from Jesus, and though her sins are many, she doesn't despair. The Spirit had revealed to her what Jesus later taught his disciples when He referred to Himself as the Good Shepherd:

"I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" [Jn 10:9-10].

Understanding this she turns to Jesus in complete trust, just as the sheep trust their shepherd.  Given abundant life, she offers the only thing she can: abundant love. She's made a decision to change, to accept God's gift of forgiveness, to accept with a humility that most of us can only imagine.

You see, brothers and sisters, salvation demands a living faith. And the path to salvation is the path of discipleship. Did she became a disciple? In the very next verses Luke tells us of the women who had been healed of their sinfulness, their infirmities, and their demons, who went on to follow Jesus on the way. I doubt that Luke placed these words there accidentally.

And note, too, that her tears are not tears of sadness; they are tears of joy. Salvation is a gift of joy. It's the Good News, and we must live its acceptance as joyful Christians.

I'm pretty sure Deacon Dick will agree with me. At Mass when I go to the ambo to proclaim the Gospel and look up at the thousand faces before me, I have to search for a happy face. Here I am about to proclaim the Good News and it looks as if they've just received bad news.

The Good News is salvation itself, and we must live its acceptance as joyful Christians. After all, how can there be any other kind of Christian? And from what source do we receive this additional gift of joy? St. Paul reveals it, as he completes his letter to the Romans:

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" [Rom 15:13]

That certainly sums it all up, doesn't it?

And how blessed we are today...because we have the Church and her graces. When we accept God's call and turn to Him in trust, we too are saved by rejecting Satan and sin, by praying in and with the Holy Spirit, and being open to His movement in our lives, by active participation in the Church's sacramental life, and by extending God's love to all.

These are no less than the promises that define our sacramental Baptism.

Let me leave you tonight with the words of St. Jude, in perhaps the least read little book of the New Testament, when he calls us to:

"Pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life" [Jude 20-21].

God love you all.

Homily: December 30

Readings: 1 Jn 2:12-17 Ps 96; Lk 2:36-40

Early in Luke’s Gospel we encounter Anna and Simeon, two special, almost grandparental figures, perfect models for those of us in the winter years of our lives. They are blessed with the holiness and wisdom most of us seek but too few of us attain.

But this passage about Anna always calls to mind my Dominican eighth-grade teacher. I’m certain Sister Francis Jane looked exactly like Anna. From my perspective as a 13-year-old they were both old – very, very old. And they both saw their mission in life as one of announcing the Good News to everyone they encountered.

How did Luke put it?

“…she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem.”

Yes, Anna was telling everyone who came to the Temple to prepare themselves for the gift of redemption. What wonderful news! And it was the same message we eighth-graders received daily from Sister Francis Jane.

“Be prepared,” she’d say, “You and I don’t know when the Lord will summon us into His Holy Presence.” And so, for Sister Francis Jane, readiness just made good spiritual sense.

Over the years I’ve taken a lot of courses in spirituality, but despite all the deep theological insights I learned in those courses, I found myself ignoring most of them and going back to Sister’s four basic rules – rules she repeated again and again as we made our way through eighth grade en route to high school.

Her first rule was to pray.

That’s right, pray – pray every day. “Talk to the Lord,” she’d say. Nothing complicated about it. If you don’t have a prayer life, you can’t be Jesus’ friend. After all, what kind of person never speaks to his friend?

Her second rule was to watch.

Now she didn’t mean spending your time looking for the Second Coming. Too many people today seem to think the end is near every time there’s an earthquake, a flood, a war, or a rumor of war. In the words of the good Sister, “If you stand around looking at the sky watching for Jesus, you just might get hit by a truck – and then you’ll meet Him a bit prematurely.”

Yeah, she was a pretty funny. But what she meant was something a little more subtle. “Keep your eyes open,” she’d tell us. “Watch what’s going on in the world around you. Watch for opportunities to bring Jesus to others. Watch for the good things, and praise God for them. And watch out for the bad things, and then wait...and you’ll be amazed how God will use you to bring good out of the bad.”

“Don’t hide from the world,” she’d say, waving that bony finger at us. “God made the world. It’s good. It’s people who’ve made it bad. And you can’t change it if you hide from it.”

Her third rule of readiness was to avoid sin.

Too many people, she said, make friends with the devil, who dresses up sin trying to make the ugly attractive. I would hope as Catholic Christians we’d all want to be in a state of grace, a state of friendship with the Lord, so He will greet us as a friend when we meet. For this, the good sister said, we should be willing to sacrifice everything.

Her fourth and final rule of readiness was to use everything in our lives to fulfill our calling to serve.

By this she meant that parents should be good parents. Children should be good children. Brothers and sisters, grandparents and grandchildren, priests and nuns, deacons and bishops, doctors, lawyers, flight attendants, plumbers, salespeople, soldiers, carpenters… whatever we do in life, we should do it to the best of our ability.

But it also means we must be good Christians, that our work in the world is important only to the extent that it supports and furthers God’s work. Our preparation for eternity, then, must include using this world’s goods and pleasures for the glory of God and for the good of others. After all, what good is it to achieve great things in this world if they don’t help us achieve the salvation God wants for us in the next? We are all called to serve.

That, in a nutshell, is the late Sister Francis Jane’s program of spiritual direction.

Now, being always ready to encounter Jesus isn’t as easy as it might sound, especially in today’s world, a world that seems to place so many superfluous demands on us. In the days to come there will be a lot of talk about turning over new leaves and making resolutions for the new year — talk of diets, and exercise, and volunteer work, and watching less television…all good things.

But maybe you and I can do something a bit more meaningful. Why don’t we get ready for the Lord and start living each day as if it’s our last. Put away the old person with sin and weakness and live in a new spirit of grace and gratitude.