|
Around this time each year, my thoughts always seem to turn to the beautiful colors
of the leaves, to the impending season of winter, and then, to the
cold, the snow, and ultimately the ice. This usually happens sometime after we
turn the clocks back and around 4:30 in the afternoon when it’s almost
as dark as at midnight. Only two months ago, it was sunny and
warm at 5:30 in the afternoon!
These images stand in stark contrast to those of the springtime,
with the beautiful flowers, the buds on the trees, and with time
growing longer each day not shorter. In contrast to the fall
season, springtime gives me a feeling of strength not
vulnerability, of beginnings not ends, and of things to be done
not everything that had better be done.
The
season of fall places before our eyes nature’s mortality and, by
extension, forces us to confront our own mortality. We can try to
dispel those thoughts from our minds by allowing the congestion of
daily life to anesthetize these thoughts or to force them from our minds.
We can also adopt the
position of couch potato and surfing television channels, loiter around on Internet chat rooms, or
aimlessly window shop at
the mall. Some people hide behind humor to avoid confronting
their mortality, like Sir Winston Churchill, who is reputed to have
once remarked about his death, “I am ready to meet my Maker, but whether my
Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is an
altogether different matter.”
Try
as we might, however, nature itself—during the months of fall—does not
let us escape easily from contemplating our mortality. As scripture
reminds us, there’s a time and a season for everything. And when the
time and season comes for us to put aside the season of work and to
embrace the season of eternal rest, we will come face to
face with the choices we’ve made. We will see clearly how we’ve truly
lived our lives and we will realize that there is no longer any time
or season to change anything. The forces of nature are insurmountable and
it’s the wise person who recognizes their annual pattern and deals directly
with the lessons that nature’s cycles challenge us as creatures to contemplate.
“The beginning of wisdom,” scripture reminds us, “is fear of the
Lord.” This doesn’t mean being afraid and fearful. What it does
mean is standing honestly and forthrightly in the presence of the
Other, the greater than I, as the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber
once noted.
This concept—fear of the Lord—perhaps is best captured when a young
person experiences something long-sought after and longed-for.
The young person conveys the sense
of absolute delight by saying, “That’s totally awesome.” What
the young person means is that the experience was totally beyond our
natural human limits. Spiritually, an awesome experience is one
which engages the human soul to reach out and beyond the self and to
allow oneself to be drawn in to the mystery of the Other that is
what St. Paul calls “beyond all imaginings.”
Encountering God is something we should be neither afraid nor
fearful of. No, it is something we should actively prepare to
experience. And, when we can say of an encounter with God,
“that was awesome,” this moment can become a moment of change as we
embrace spiritual
wisdom.
For
a lot of people, Peanuts is their all-time favorite cartoon
series. Another favorite cartoon series for a lot of people is
Garfield. But, my all-time favorite is Calvin and
Hobbes, so much so that I’ve collected all of the published
anthologies of the series. Although I’ve read these
anthologies probably more than one hundred times, I still chuckle and laugh at the
various situations portrayed in that cartoon series as if it’s the first
time I’m viewing them. One set of strips I particularly enjoyed
is when Calvin would play the role of “Captain Stupendous Man,” the
champion of liberty and defender of free will. In one particularly
memorable strip, Calvin bounded down the stairway into the living
room where his mother is seated on the couch. The following
dialogue ensues:
Mother: What’s up today?
Calvin: (breathlessly) Nothing so far.
Mother: (quizzically with a tone of fear) So far?
Calvin: Well you never know. Something could happen today and
if it does, by golly, I’m going to be ready for it.
Mother: (to herself with her eyes looking upward) I sure need a
suit like that.
Preparing for and standing ready to participate in an encounter with
the awesome, wholly Other—to meet God—is
the beginning of wisdom.
We
make our preparations, however, not by donning a mask and a cape as
Calvin did when he played the role of Captain Stupendous Man.
Instead, we prepare by recognizing the truth concerning the relatively short span of our lives. “Seventy is the
sum of our years, and eighty if we are strong,” the Psalmist reminds
us. We also make our preparations by realizing the relative
insignificance of our place in human history. One way you might do
this is to think of your great grandmother’s grandmother’s name.
That woman—removed from this generation by only five generations—was
alive perhaps eighty years ago and because of her life, you and I
are alive! Yet, she’s all but forgotten. The simple
truth is: it will be no different with each and every one of us!
Recognizing these two truths reveals the awesome realization
of the mystery who is God, whose majesty evidences itself not so
often in grand and glorious miracles but more often than not in the
simplest of ways. God reveals Himself as husband and wife beget a
child, as a mother nurses her infant, as a father wrestles with his
children on the living room floor, as parents behold their child
suffering and being ridiculed for righteousness’ sake, and when
grandparents have their grandchildren spend the weekend with them.
Each of these simplest of moments possesses the power to fill us with awe
as the mystery of God unveils the wholly Other to us. And, as we
recognize that mystery and are drawn into it, no matter how long or
short our lives may be, we have no reason to be afraid or fearful of the
mystery we call “God.” But, as the Supreme Being who is wholly
Other and infinitely beyond us as human beings, we do fear God’s awesome power.
The
death of the foliage, the shortening of the days, and the coming of
winter serve to remind all of us—young and old alike—that
time as we measure it does run out.
For
some of us, this image does and should conjure up not “fear”
of the Lord but
“fright” of the Lord because, after all, each of us one day will be
held accountable for having wasted our time and for having not
opened ourselves and to the mystery of the awesome God. I
don’t know about you but, speaking for myself, I can’t imagine anything more frightening than what it must be like to
spend eternity living in regret of what everything that could have
been, yet knowing that there is no one other than ourselves to blame
for purposely choosing to forsake all of that.
For
others who have prepared, like Calvin dressed in his Captain Stupendous Man
costume, the image
conjured up by the season of fall is not one of “fright” of
the Lord but
“fear” of the Lord. While these persons recognize that they can
neither undo the past nor change the decisions they have made, these women and
men don’t believe that God has given up on them. No, they continue
to seek God revealing Himself in the simple events of their days. These people do
this, first, by repenting of their past and choosing to live a more
spiritual existence. They do this, second, by pouring themselves
out in service to others who are needy. Those needy people could be
a spouse, children, relatives, or co-workers; those others could
be nursing home patients, shut ins, and the infirmed; they could be
the
brokenhearted, those who are down in their luck, or seeking gainful
employment; oh yes, we mustn’t forget, they could also be the
in-laws.
“Do
this in memory of me,” Jesus said. We “do this”—we offer our body
and blood to God to be consecrated by Him—by turning from the past
and allowing the oil in our lamps to burn brightly before all of
God’s people, as St. Paul says, “so that they may give glory to the
God who works though us who believe in Him.”
A brief commercial
break...
Advent is just around the corner!
Each
year, the people at Magnificat® produce a companion edition for the
season of Advent. The 2005 companion edition is entitled “He Comes! The
King of Glory.” Similar to a what older Catholics may remember as a
"prayer book," the companion edition contains all sorts of prayers,
readings, reflections, art, and activities for every member of the
family to prepare each day of the season of Advent for the coming of
Christ at Christmas.
Grandparents might consider purchasing a copy for themselves and copies
for each of their grandchildren. Confirmation sponsors might consider
purchasing a copy for themselves as well as the person they sponsored in
the faith. Spouses might purchase a copy for themselves and use it for
daily prayer during the season of Advent. Parents might purchase a copy
for the family and use it to lead prayer before dinner each evening.
At a
price of $3 for 1-4 copies plus $1 shipping/handling, $2 for 5-9 copies
plus $3 shipping/handling, and $1.10 for 10-49 copies (plus $5
shipping/handling), the companion edition makes a perfect and very
affordable opportunity to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas
as well as an Advent gift to spur family, friends, and colleagues toward
greater spiritual growth during the season of Advent.
The
companion edition has a limited press run that sells out each year.
Furthermore, orders are filled in the order received. So, place your
order early.
To place
an order for the 2005 companion edition of Magnificat® for the season of
Advent entitled “He Comes! The King of Glory,” call 1-970-416-6670 or
email specialissue@intrepidgroup.com for ordering information.
|
HOMILY
