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As is the
usual custom at St. Thomas Monastery, the brethren gathered last
Wednesday afternoon at 4:45 for adult beverages and some snacks before
dinner at 5:30.
One of the
“OF’s”—that’s “older fathers” among us “YF’s” (yes, “younger
fathers”)—was holding court as he usually does. This week, he was
bloviating and opining about the Church’s “foolishness” for inserting
“themes” into the weekly Sunday liturgy. Three weeks ago, you may
recall, we celebrated Trinity Sunday. Two weeks ago, we celebrated
Corpus Christi. However, it was today’s theme, the Nativity of St. John
the Baptist, that pushed this OF over the edge. Said he: “Just what do
the people in the pews need to celebrate him for? John the Baptist
means absolutely nothing to them whatsoever.” (See the bloviating and
opining?)
At the time, I
tended to agree with this OF, although my internal truth detector went
off. So, I held back rather than assert another of what American
Catholics—who value independence and self-determinism more than
obedience and assent to duly-constituted religious authority—call
“another one of Rome’s stupidities” (again, to quote the “OF”).
After all, the Church of Rome may have a very good reason to have
Catholics throughout the world contemplate the meaning and significance
of St. John the Baptist’s birth, life, and death.
I didn’t think
much about all of that bloviating and opining until Thursday morning
because one of my favorite parts of the Church’s official morning prayer
involves reading a short lesson narrating the heroic sanctity of someone
who died on that day. Some days, there might be two or three different
saints from different historical eras whose lives exuded heroic sanctity
and continue to inspire us about our personal vocations and call to
holiness of life. Just last week, for example, there was lesson about a
brother Augustinian, St. John of Sahagun, whom “a woman of dubious
character” tried to seduce and poison. Now, that’s some story! It gave
me a lot to reflect about that day. Unfortunately, I was interested in
things other than holiness. For example, I found myself wondering: Who
was that woman? What constituted her “dubious character”? How did she
set about effecting her dastardly deed? What was going on the St. John
of Sahagun’s mind (to say nothing about his body)? My wonderments about
this woman aside, these short lessons provide a sort of “spiritual
booster shot” to try a little bit more to be like Christ each day.
So, after having
heard an OF bloviate and opine on Wednesday evening about how stupid it
is to celebrate the Nativity of St. John the Baptist today, I found
myself thinking about St. John the Baptist last Thursday morning,
wondering what elements of his life are worthy of imitation or, at
least, would challenge us—who believe and assert that we are disciples
of Christ—to recognize more fully any self-delusion in this regard.
St. Paul offers
us at least two clues about the heroic witness of St. John the Baptist
in today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles.
The first clue is
found when people asked St. John the Baptist if he was the Messiah, St.
Paul tells us the Baptist would respond: “Who do you suppose that I am?
I am not he. Behold one is coming after me; I am not worthy to unfasten
the sandals of his feet.” One of the ideals St. Paul is alluding to, of
course, is St. John the Baptist’s heroic humility.
Humility is a
virtue discovered as human beings recognize their proper place in
relationship to God. That is, humility reminds human beings that no one
is superior to, more perfect than, or more important in God’s eyes than
anyone else. If fact, humility turns everything upside down because in
God’s eyes, we are told, the sinners and the poor rank higher than the
proud and rich. “In God’s kingdom, the first shall be last that the
last shall be first,” Jesus taught his disciples.
St. John the
Baptist’s heroic humility teaches us not to overestimate our
self-importance by thinking we are better than anyone else. Full
of pride and arrogance, we will believe we are the Messiah of our own
little world and God has created everyone to serve our little whims and
fancies.
And yet, isn’t it
true that our culture values independence and self-determination more
than it values humility? Doesn’t culture reward those who “claw their
way to the top” and popularize them in television shows like Robbin
Leach’s “Lives of the Rich and Famous” and Donald Trump’s “The
Apprentice”? In contrast, St. John the Baptist says, “I am not he,” and
his life is a beacon of heroic humility as St. John the Baptist simply
does his little bit to advance God’s kingdom on earth by announcing the
coming of the Messiah.
The St. John the
Baptist’s heroic humility raises two questions to consider:
1. How many of us
long to be the Messiah, people who wish to have it all in terms of
power, prestige, and positions of influence?
2. How often are we
more impressed by someone’s position, toys, trinkets, and achievements
than we are by the quality of heroic virtue evidencing itself in that
person’s character?
We delude
ourselves when we lust to associate with and to befriend those people
whose only personal achievements are solely material. Furthermore, we
give up something very precious when we seek “to be somebody” in the
world’s eyes. St. John the Baptist’s heroic humility teaches us that we
already are somebody, simply because God has created us in His divine
image and likeness and has entrusted each of us with a personal vocation
through which we can build God’s kingdom on earth by announcing the
coming of the Messiah. Deluded by lust, pride devours our
awareness of that precious gift.
On this account,
I daresay,
St. John the Baptist has an awful lot to teach us and our culture. The
question his heroic humility challenges us to contemplate is not “What
do you want to be?” but “Who are you really and where does your
payola really come from?”
A second clue
concerning elements of the life of St. John the Baptist that are worthy
of imitation is found in his dietary habits and clothing.
Think back a
bit. Each Advent, the Gospel of Matthew tells us John ate honey and
locusts. We are also told his clothes were made of camel’s hair.
Let’s
focus today upon those clothes.
Not only were St.
John the Baptist’s clothes simple, but they also were rough and scratchy
to the skin. These clothes weren’t made of Chinese silk or of soft
Egyptian cotton. Nor were these clothes emblazoned with a bright logo
suggesting that St. John the Baptist purchased his clothes at
Jerusalem’s equivalent of Saks Fifth Avenue, Neimann-Marcus, Lord and
Taylor, or the country club he belonged to (or wished others to believe
he belonged to). No, St. John the Baptist quite likely purchased his
clothes at some Jerusalem street bazaar by the name of bar-Wal-Mart or
bar-Value City. Maybe his clothes were once an unannounced blue-light
special at bar-K-Mart!
Now, how often
have you found yourself thinking, or more embarrassingly, saying, “I
absolutely have to buy this outfit…I can’t live without it!”, knowing
full well that you really don’t need the outfit? But, because we take
such pride from being able to comport with what others define being
“somebody”—especially in terms of clothing—or to set ourselves apart
from the crowd by being a fashion “trend setter,” we will do everything
in our power to display for all the world to behold the “hottest” name
brand in clothing. How many young people have said, “I wouldn’t be
caught dead wearing that in school!” when a parent points out a generic,
run-of-the-mill, but entirely useful brand of clothing?
Or, more
seriously, how often have we tried to change the way we look in the
world’s eyes?
Consider
cosmetics.
The use of
cosmetics has only one purpose, namely, to change our natural
appearance, that is, the way God created us to look. We want to
“look good” to others and so that we will “feel good” about ourselves.
What about how we
mutilate our body parts with piercing, face lifts, breast implants, body
tucks, tattoos, botox injections, liposuction, electrolysis, and
“designer” orthodontia so that others will take note of and be pleased
by our physical appearance?
St. John the
Baptist’s heroic simplicity of life—evident in his clothing—raises two
additional questions to consider:
1. What does how we
change our body say about our attitude to God who has entrusted our body
to us as a gift? Why aren’t we brimming with gratitude for our
bodies? Why don’t we thank God for this gift?
2. Even when we
change our physical appearance, don’t we know in our hearts that we’d
rather be valued for whom we truly are and know ourselves to be rather
than how we appear? Who do we think we really are deceiving, except
ourselves?
In light of St.
John the Baptist’s heroic humility and simplicity of life, do you
believe St. John the Baptist is irrelevant to “the people in the pews”?
I, for one, certainly don’t. For those who have sold themselves to the
whims, caprices, and attitudes of a culture whose members judge the
worth of human beings based solely on external appearances, St. John the
Baptist’s heroic humility and simplicity should prove troubling, if not
very upsetting. Yet, the heroic humility and simplicity of St. John the
Baptist provide the antidote to the spiritual disease that plagues those
who so willingly tithe the idol of public opinion or peer group
acceptance by sacrificing their true beauty on the idol’s altar.
In his day, the
powerful and influential as well as “The Rich and Famous” detested John
the Baptist for confronting their hypocrisy. With all of their might,
these people sought to be leading citizens…of the culture of death.
And, St. John the Baptist didn’t flinch in telling them so. For that,
Herod’s wife asked for the head of St. John the Baptist to be served up
to her on a sliver platter. (Now there’s a real woman of dubious
character!)
Bloviating and
opining aside, two millennia after his death, St. John the Baptist
continues to provoke spiritual discomfort in people. His heroic
humility and simplicity of life transcend time and space to challenge
each and every one of us today to recognize our true worth and dignity
as God’s beloved sons and daughters. While we should be thankful for
the gift of our bodies, God has breathed into our bodies what is of
infinitely greater worth, God’s image and likeness. And, because of
this, what Isaiah prophesied about John the Baptist is equally true
about us. Isaiah said:
The Lord called you
from birth
from your
mother’s womb
the Lord gave
you a name…
[You can say] I am
made glorious
in the sight
of God
and now God is
my strength!
[For] God has made
you a light to the nations,
that His
salvation may reach
to the ends of
the earth.
Humility and
simplicity of life provide the antidote to the emptiness of heart that
plagues those who believe physical appearances are of infinitely greater
worth than the image and likeness of God that has been breathed into us.
St. John the Baptist continues to challenge these citizens of the
culture of death to conversion. His humility and simplicity of
life challenge us today to pray and to work for liberation from the sins
of pride and vanity so that we may enjoy citizenship in the culture of
life where humility and simplicity of life reveal those who are God’s
beloved sons and daughters.
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HOMILY
