|
When my
brother was somewhere between the ages of three and six years, he had
what we all called an “imaginary friend” named “Jeff.” I recall that
the two of them were always going to be doing something together. I
also recall that if something bad happened, then my
brother would blame Jeff. On the other hand, if something really
bad happened, a real human being got blamed: c’etaît moi.
Much has
been written about the importance of the human imagination and its
powers. Psychologists, for example, attributed to it the source of
inspiration that has allowed people to transform into reality what other
human beings believed impossible. Hundreds of generations of people, for example,
imagined what it would be like to travel to and from outer space. But, as other
human beings transformed what they imagined and
believed possible into reality, human beings have experienced what it is like to
travel in space, to walk on the moon, and to return to earth safely.
Theologians
have argued that the power of imagination is central to the experience
of the Catholic faith as well as to the spiritual lives of U.S.
Catholics, in particular. We don’t oftentimes think about how our faith
is rooted in our ability to imagine things we really and truly hope for
but, as of yet, remain unseen.
Think about
the Sacrament of Penance, for example.
Experience
has taught us that, try as hard as we might, all of us not only do
stupid things that embarrass us but we also freely will to do wicked
things that we are ashamed of. Does that mean all human beings are what
Moses said to God in today’s first reading, namely, “stiff-necked
people” who are doomed to do stupid and wicked things? And, if the truth is
that we are, is there any hope for getting out of messes that we’ve
gotten ourselves into?
The answer
to the first question is “Yes.” For a variety of reasons, we are doomed to do stupid and wicked
things.
But, why?
It seems that, despite our best intentions (and, oftentimes, that’s all
they are), we act like selfish and narcissistic egoists who love
ourselves more than we act like we love God or anyone else for that matter.
In light of
this proclivity that is common to all of us, there’s
really no need to invent imaginary friends who we can blame for our stupid and wicked
behavior. The simple truth is that we have only ourselves to blame.
We do have
the power of imagination, however, which makes it possible for us to
contemplate the possibility of a God who so loves His fallible, selfish,
narcissistic, and egomaniacal creatures that God is ready to “receive
them as His own,” as we also heard in today’s first reading. God
does this by offering us a forgiving embrace that is powerful enough to heal all of the
wounds caused by our stupid and wicked behavior.
So, we have
a choice to make. We can
choose to live as doomed creatures. Or, we can imagine the possibility
that there is another way we can live our lives, even after we do stupid
and wicked things. That’s why the answer to the second question is also
“Yes.” There is a way out of the messes we make of our own lives and
the lives of others as well.
When we
choose the former, we become cynical and our dissatisfaction with our
lives and everything around us increases. But, when we choose the
latter, that is, as we
contemplate what is possible but remains unseen, our power of
imagination engenders within us the hope that makes it possible to admit
our imperfection and to do penance for what we know is really stupid and wicked behavior. As
we come before God humbly like the taxpayer did in the Temple and say
“Lord, I am not worthy,” God’s awesome power of love
reaches out and envelops us and
the healing power of God’s
love enables us to begin anew
as we desire to become more perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect.
Nowhere more is this the case than in the gift of the Eucharist!
Absent the
power of imagination, however, the answer to both questions is a
resounding “No” because there is no hope. And, where there is no hope,
there is no possibility of forgiveness because love is absent.
Today we
consider one of those mysteries that can engender hope, the mystery of the Trinity, the unique
Christian belief that God―the one and only God―is revealed in three
different Persons or, in the sense which I have been speaking today,
three different experiences. There is the Person of God the Father, who
we experience as the Creator, the One God who created us. There is the
Person of God the Son, who we experience as the Savior, the One God who
saves us from our stupidity and wickedness. And, there is the
Person of the Holy Spirit, who we experience as the Sanctifier, the One
God who makes us holy. Father-Son-Spirit, not three gods but one
triune God. Creator-Savior-Sanctifier, not a hierarchy of gods but
three different experiences of the One God in Whom there is no
selfishness, no narcissism, and no egoism. Three distinct Persons
who interact and work together as each puts the needs of the others
ahead of one’s self-interest.
This is an
abstract notion, no doubt about it. But, as we contemplate the
mystery of the Trinity and allow our imaginations free rein, the
Trinity becomes an experience through which our power
of imagination allows us to envision the possibility of things we hope for
but, as of yet, we do not see.
Think about
the Sacrament of Marriage.
Experience
has taught all married persons that there is a dramatic difference
between what brides and grooms believe about married love and its
reality in the years following the wedding day.
The
difference is easy to see in little things. For example, the
couple used to hold hands and kiss each other in public places. At a
restaurant, the couple would sit and stare for hours on end into each
other’s eyes, thinking that only a few seconds had passed. Since
the couple practically sat on top of each other in the car, there
really was no need for separate seats, only a driver’s seat. And, both really believed that they couldn’t live one
minute of one day without the other.
Can you
believe it? The couple actually imagined it would be like this for the
rest of their lives. But, don’t forget: this imagination is what
engendered in both of them the hope that made it possible to vow
themselves to love, honor, and obey each other in the Sacrament of
Marriage for all the days of their lives. Now, wasn’t that
audacious? Then, in the days, months, and
years following their wedding, as the challenges and difficulties of
what it truly means to be united in God as husband and wife tests
spouses, it is their firm belief in those things hoped for yet unseen that
makes it possible for spouses to continue to love each more than
themselves, despite all of the selfishness, egoism, and narcissism that
emerge in any healthy marriage.
Absent the
power of imagination, however, there is no hope for spouses. And, where
there is no hope, there is no possibility for a long and happy marriage
because there is no love. And, where there is no love, there is no
marriage!
Earlier, I
noted that the power of imagination is central to the experience of our
faith as well as to our spiritual lives. This is because our faith,
and today the mystery of the Trinity, is
rooted in our ability to imagine things we hope for but as of yet remain
unseen.
How many of
us contemplate the idea of being married and hope one day to be married?
Think about
marriage as an experience of the Trinity. A marriage is a singular
entity, comprised of three distinct beings: man, woman, and God. As we
imagine this Trinity of persons working together for the good of each
other, especially when it may feel like our marriage is not fulfilling
the noble purpose for which God designed it, their imaginations inflames hope that inspires husbands and wives who unite themselves in God to
work together for the good of each other and to have a long and happy
marriage, as God designed it.
How many of
us contemplate the idea of being parents and having a family?
Think about
family as an experience of the Trinity. In God’s
design, a family is a singular entity, comprised of three distinct
beings: parents, children, and God. As we can imagine the Trinity of
three persons working together for the good of each other, our
imaginations inflame hope that parents and children who unite themselves in God can
work together for the good of each other…especially when we experience
our family falling short of the noble purpose for which God designed
it. Hope, then, inspires parents and children to work with each other
not only for the good of the family but also for the good of its
individual members. This is what constitutes a rich, vibrant, and
satisfying family life, according to God’s
design.
Think about
ourselves as an experience of the Trinity. As human beings, we are a
singular entity comprised of three distinct parts: a soul, a will, and a
body. As we imagine the Trinity of three persons working together for
the good of each other, especially when we find ourselves divided from
our very selves because of our stupidity and wickedness, that
Trinitarian image gives us hope that our soul, our will, and our
body―when united in God―can work together in such a way that the
divine image
and likeness God breathed into us when He created each of us will be
brought to fulfillment as we choose to love God and neighbor more than
we love ourselves. The power of imagination inflames hope that inspires us to become better people and
that makes it possible for us to be holy―to be saints―in our
words and actions as well as in our thoughts, as God has designed us as His creatures.
That’s why I
said earlier that the Trinity is central to our spiritual lives. Where
we do not have the imagination to look at our lives in terms of the
possibilities of what they can be―“those things hoped for but as
of yet unseen,”
as St. Paul addresses the issue―it is highly unlikely that we would ever believe it
possible for someone―maybe ourselves even―to forgive another person, to
vow to love, honor, and obey another person, to discover meaning in the
community of fallible people we call “our family,” or to care more for
God and other people than we care about ourselves. Contemplating the idea of the
Trinity and allowing our imaginations free rein makes it possible for us to have hope where otherwise, the facts would
tell us that hoping will only lead to sadness and despair because, after
all, human beings will never walk on the Moon and come back to earth
safely, most marriages will end
up in divorce court, no family can be the Holy Family, and “you will
never amount to much.”
How sad it
would be―wouldn’t it?―if we were destined to live our days devoid of the
power of imagination and the hope it fuels! Yet, that is how
cynics live. It is our hope in things
yet unseen that makes it possible for us to press beyond the sad facts
and all of the naysayers and to enter into the mystery of the Triune God
for Whom all things are possible! That is how people of faith
live.
Early in the
last century, Sigmund Freud offered a different approach that charmed
many people. Believing that humans invented the notion of God because
we need what God represents―a force that makes everything work
together―Freud argued convincingly for many people that this is nothing more than a delusion
to give ourselves meaning when the facts of our lives would otherwise
lead us to despair. In sum, Freud argued that we created God in the
image and likeness of what we hope for but know will never happen.
Freud wanted us to deal with these and other irrational fears.
Each Sunday
at the Eucharist we say, “We believe in one God.” And each year on Trinity Sunday, we ask:
“How much do we really believe in the mystery that is the one God?” As
we consider that question today, we challenge ourselves to imagine how this one
God is not just an idea―one God in three Persons―but, more importantly,
Who this one God is as an experience that makes it possible to see how
this God
reveals Himself to us.
For
Catholic Christians, this belief in the Trinity pushes us to look beyond the
mysterious idea of who God is by challenging us to consider how and, then,
whether this belief makes any difference in how we live our lives.
Then, as we contemplate the Trinity and live in the hoped for
expectation of what our imaginations inspire in our souls, we don’t need
imaginary friends―like my brother’s imaginary friend, Jeff―and we don’t
need to live in a psychotic delusion of our own making―as Freud argued.
No, we will experience salvation as we discover God present in
long and happy marriages, in rich, vibrant, and satisfying family life,
and in genuine holiness of life, as God designed each of them.
Ultimately, it is faith in the Triune God gives us hope as Catholic Christians
when everyone around us cynically concludes that we are doomed to be
selfish, narcissistic, and egomaniacal people. |
HOMILY
