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A family
was spending their Memorial Day weekend at the New Jersey shore.
The father and his son were taking a walk along the beach and his
four-year-old son spotted a dead seagull laying on the sand.
“Daddy, what happened to the seagull?” the son asked. “He died and
went to heaven to be with God,” the father replied. The young boy
thought for a moment and say, “Why did God though him back down?”
The moral of the
story, of course, is that it’s not the body that goes to be with God but
the spirit and, in particular, the Spirit of God breathed into us
when God created us and called us into being for a unique and
unrepeatable mission in all of human history.
Several
years ago, my niece Gretchen said something to me along the lines,
“You’re not like a real priest, Uncle Rich.” Not knowing
whether to be offended, embarrassed, or even hurt, I asked Gretchen:
“What do you mean by that?”
She sort of
squeezed her nose and lips together and sort of squeezed her eyes
shut—you know, when someone wants to say something that may be
interpreted as being negative
without wanting to hurt the other person—and responded: “Well, you’re
like a normal person. You know, you’re not holy and all of that
other stuff.”
I guess relating
to her and my two nephews in a “normal” way somehow isn’t the way real
priests are supposed to behave!
Just a couple of
weeks ago, a somewhat similar situation transpired while visiting with
some friends at their home.
Seated around the
kitchen island countertop and chitchatting before dinner was to be
served, the telephone rang. The
hostess answered the telephone and, after exchanging greetings with the
person on the other end of the line, that person evidently asked:
“What’chya doing?” The hostess responded: “Ahhh, well,
um...(pause)...we’re sitting her with Fr. Jacobs, having cocktails,
and talking.”
The person on the
other end of the line must have remarked something along the line of,
“Gosh, that must be terribly boring having a priest over” because the
wife responded in a somewhat perky tone, “Oh no, it’s not like that at all with
Fr. Jacobs. He’s down to earth. He’s normal, just like us. You
can say anything to Fr. Jacobs.”
Well, I’m not
sure about that “say anything” part.
But, more importantly,
was this a coincidence? Two people telling me that I am “normal,”
meaning “not holy and all of that stuff.” Was God telegraphing me
a message to get with it and get “holy”?
Well, if ever there was a “holy priest”—at least in so far as my niece
and the woman on the other end of the telephone define that term—John
the Baptist was its poster boy. He was an extremely holy priest. He
lived a life of complete poverty. He ate nature’s “free” food,
namely, locusts and honey. John the Baptist wore a coarse, scratchy
garment of camel’s hair, called a “hair shirt.” And, he preached with
the fire of zeal for God ablaze in his heart. In so far as holiness is concerned, John
the Baptist was the “real deal.”
Likewise, if ever
there was an “unholy priest”—at least in so far as my niece and the
woman on the other end of the telephone define that term—Jesus was its
poster boy. In the minds of many, he was a truly awful priest. Jesus loved a good
dinner party and,
don’t forget the wedding feast at Cana, the best of wine. Jesus also
enjoyed being surrounded by crowds of people. So what if most of them were
reprobates? And, Jesus preached by telling stories that presented
listeners personally provocative and challenging questions, got these
people very upset, and told everyone that the fullness of
life is found in forgiving one another—even one’s enemies—by pointing
out exactly who needed to be forgiven and who
needed to do the forgiving. “I’ve come to save sinners not the
self-righteous,” Jesus said. Based upon his conduct, Jesus might
have been a good preacher on the stump, but he wasn’t the real deal in the eyes of
most people when it came to
being a holy priest in the eyes of almost all of his contemporaries.
Don’t forget: they put Jesus to death!
I took both
Gretchen’s comment and that of the woman on the other end of the
telephone as compliments. Why? Because I think holiness is about being
fully human and sharing the fullness of our humanity with one another.
After all, each and every one of us is a human being not God,
although it’s true that sometimes we act as if we believe we’re God. In
addition, each and every one of us is imperfect not perfect,
although we sometimes act as if we believe that somehow we were
immaculately conceived, like Mary.
So, what am I—and
what are we—supposed to do? Present ourselves in public to be one type
of person while being another person in private?
Holiness—defined
as being “fully human”—isn’t an either/or proposition, however. No,
it’s a matter of responsiveness: of striving to become what God has created us to
be by responding to the Holy Spirit in the way that each and every one
of us—as a unique and unrepeatable incarnation of God’s life and
love—must respond. That is, if we want to be fully human and live our
lives to the max.
It’s in this
sense, then, that there’s no singular way to be a mother or a father, a
brother or a sister, or even a priest or a nun. There’s no
singular way to be a spouse, a parent, a friend, a caregiver, or a
student. There’s also no singular way to be a doctor or a lawyer, a
business professional or a tradesman, or even a teacher or pilot.
Why? Because the Spirit of God that has been breathed into us is
brought to perfection as we express our unique talents, aspirations,
interests, aptitudes, and abilities so that, were every one of us to do
that, there’d be an infinite number of ways we’d be experiencing
holiness all around us and the presence of God permeating every aspect
of our lives.
I also believe
many if not all of us have experienced that revelation in our lives, although we
might not call it a “revelation” without first reflecting on it.
Frequently we
will say, “She’s a good person” or “He’s really dedicated.” People have
said it about Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa of Calcutta and some
of us have said it about Fr. Sam Kelly and Fr. Frank Mulranen.
I’ve said it about Dr. Joe Wolf, an osteopath, and Dr. Frank
Margiotti, a chiropractor. Both men have been given the Spirit of
God in their ability to heal. It’s in their hands. I’ve also
said it about Bev Gooch and Mary Elliot, two excellent teachers.
Both have been given the Spirit of God in their ability to inspire awe,
wonder, and enthusiasm in young people. Surely, none of these
human beings are perfect and, quite likely, would be embarrassed to find
themselves being described this way. But, it’s true. When I
am in their presence, I sense something special that reminds me to be
special...holy in the sense of becoming that person God has breathed his
Spirit into.
What we really
mean when we say “So-and-so is a good person,” is “There’s something
really special about that person.” It’s something unique and
unrepeatable. We want to make that part of our lives. Unfortunately,
however, we can’t be someone else because God didn’t create us to be
them and their personal vocation isn’t our personal vocation.
When we
experience “holy” people in the sense that I’m defining the term, we see
something alive and active in them that challenges us at a deeper
level. We may not only question them about what they do and say as well
as why they do it and say it. But, more importantly, we also see in
them something that challenges us to be more authentically true to
ourselves and to Spirit of God dwelling in us.
The diversity of
the gifts of the Holy Spirit might be likened to a symphony orchestra.
Each instrument—like the tuba, bass, and woodwind—doesn’t sound terribly
beautiful when played as a solo instrument. But, when each instrument
fulfills the purpose for which it was crafted and the artist follows the direction
of the conductor, each of the instruments gives a totality of expression to a sound that is
beautiful beyond human expression. (For nature lovers, it’s much
the same. One tree, shrub, or flower standing alone does express
something beautiful. But, there’s nothing quite like the symphony
of springtime when all of the foliage is in full bloom.)
This is what
Christians celebrate when they talk about receiving “the gifts of the
Holy Spirit.” We celebrate the fact that we are not clones. No,
each of us is a “genuine article.” We celebrate the idea that our occupations
and jobs aren’t what define us. No, what defines us is the personal
vocation we express through our occupations and jobs. We also celebrate
that we are not just a mind and a body. No, we are a composite of mind and body
that, when both are animated by the Spirit of God, makes it possible for
each and every one of us to be a unique and unrepeatable
revelation of God in all of human history. There never has been
and there never will be another one of us. We celebrate the fact
that we don’t have to be anyone else. We only need to be
ourselves, filled with the Spirit of God.
Today’s
celebration of the Feast of Pentecost reminds us that God has breathed
His Spirit into us. To be “holy”, we don’t have to be someone or
something other than the person God has created and called us to become.
Using Jesus as our model, being “holy” isn’t becoming an otherworldly,
distant, steely, cold, and impervious human being whose sole focus the things beyond. No,
being “holy” is to be a human being who lives
one’s life to the max by being completely and fully human, as the Spirit
of God breathed into each of us makes it possible for something of God
to be made flesh in and revealed through us. That is what Jesus
did.
That type of
“holiness”—a person who is near, whose humanity provides others a
glimpse of the Spirit of God animating everything one does and says—is
something God calls each and every one of us to be.
I think my niece,
Gretchen, and that lady on the other end of the telephone had it right. I’m not “holy and all of that stuff”, if being holy means being
someone who’s just not me. And, in this sense, none of us should be
“holy and all of that stuff” if we’re not allowing the Spirit of God to
be the force acting on our minds and bodies to make God present in our
lives, our homes, at the workplace, and throughout the entire world,
each in our own unique and wonderful way.
“Tell my people,”
the Lord said to Ezekiel the prophet. “I will put my spirit in you that
you may live.”
On this feast of
Pentecost, we recall, we celebrate, and we renew our commitment to that
fullness of life which is uniquely and unrepeatably ours, the one we
live as we are responsive to the Spirit of God alive and active within
each and every one of us.
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HOMILY
