Kicking it up a notch
Tyne Daly, of “Cagney and Lacey” fame is currently starring on Broadway in Terrence McNally’s “Master Class.” She plays the role of soprano Maria Callas in the twilight of her career. The play follows Callas as she coaches aspiring singers at Julliard. At one point, she asks one of her students to exit and re- enter the classroom saying, “Enter again, take the stage, own it. This is opera, not a vocal recital!” The student replies, “I thought this was a classroom.” Callous was trying to teach the student to approach her lesson as if it were an actual performance, with an attitude befitting a revered opera, with heightened awareness and imagination, awe and wonder, transforming an ordinary practice experience into something extraordinary.
Like the students in “Master Class,” we too are taught by the liturgy to see and experience ordinary stuff as extraordinary. For in the Mass, ordinary things are treated with utmost reverence, books are lifted high, furniture is kissed, bread and wine are blessed. Ordinary activities take on new meaning, walking becomes processing, reading becomes proclaiming, singing becomes praising. We, ordinary humans, are also treated with extraordinary reverence. We are blessed, incensed, sprinkled with holy water, lathered with sacred oil, and fed with the body and blood of Christ. We too take on a new meaning as a human assembly becomes a divine body.
We could call the liturgy our “Spiritual Master Class.” It teaches us that God has first loved us and looked upon us and our world with awe and wonder. Thus, everything has been touched by God’s grace. Let us pray that as we are sent forth from the liturgy, we might look upon the world as God does, as the liturgy “schools” us, with new awe, wonder and reverence.
O Lord, help us to see as you see. Amen.
What billboards are we showing?
Summertime means that hurricane season in the Atlantic has begun. I will never forget when Hurricane Floyd made landfall in North Carolina in 1999. I was on my way to a wedding in Solomons, Maryland and had stopped in Eastern North Carolina to visit family when Floyd came. The hurricane triggered massive rainfall and flooding, creating chaos for residents and travelers. Most of the roads on which I was set to travel were closed. I was forced to go hundreds of miles out of my way to get to Maryland. What was to be a three hour journey was now taking nearly nine hours. Not being very good with directions added more turmoil to an already stressful trip. To top it all off, I looked up at one point and saw a billboard that read, “Do you really know where you are going?” I wanted to scream.
I think of that billboard whenever I reflect on how we greet visitors at our Sunday liturgies . Do our faces, words and actions say, “You are in the right place,” or, “Do you really know where you are going?” Our liturgy is ultimately the gift of God’s hospitality; God’s invitation to share God’s life and God’s love in every ritual moment. We who experience God’s hospitality are called to become instruments of it. A nod, a smile, an invitation, a genuine gesture of interest and caring go a long way in transforming visitors into guests.
As summer will likely find us either giving or receiving hospitality, I am reminded of an old
Gaelic Rune on Hospitality.
I saw a stranger yestreen; I put the food in the eating place, drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place. And, in the sacred name of the Triune, He blessed myself and my house, my cattle and my dear ones. And the lark said in her song, often, often, often,
goes the Christ in the stranger’s guise; often, often, often, goes the Christ in the stranger’s guise.
Thanks and Praise
My mother was big on thank-yous. Most of her gratitude came in the form of baked goods—scrumptious edibles like Italian wedding cookies or Polish chrusciki. She offered these mouthwatering treats to those who constantly showed God’s kindness to us: the family doctor who never took a penny after our father died, the neighbors who plowed our driveway after the massive snowfalls. She recognized God’s goodness in the hearts of others and was eternally grateful. Focusing on the blessings of God rather than the pain of life often changed those potentially sadder moments into moments of thanksgiving. Perhaps this is why counselors often encourage their clients to keep a journal of blessings.
We could say the Eucharistic Liturgy is like being immersed in a journal of blessings. It is a constant reminder of how good we have it with God. In the liturgy of the Word, we hear God’s kindness unfolding in the lives of humankind. In the liturgy of the Eucharist, we celebrate God’s goodness in giving us his Son, Jesus the Christ. The heart of our liturgy is the Eucharistic Prayer, often called the great prayer of thanksgiving. The word Eucharist itself is derived from the Greek εὐχαριστία which is translated as thankfulness, gratitude, giving of thanks. One of the preface prayers for weekdays nicely sums it up:
You have no need of our praise, yet our desire to thank you is itself your gift. Our prayer of thanksgiving adds nothing to your greatness, but makes us grow in your grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord.
If we are truly attentive to the reminders of God’s goodness offered in the liturgy, we will have no choice but to be so filled with thankfulness that, like my mother, we will have to pour out our gratefulness onto others. During these days of Ordinary Time, may we take the time to recognize all the gifts of life.
O Lord, keep us growing in gratitude and grace. AMEN.
How hungry are we?
If you’ve ever tried to lose weight, you know what it’s like to be hungry. On the other hand, if you’ve ever eaten a large meal, you know what it’s like to feel full. Being full can mean feeling uncomfortable, bloated, lethargic, drowsy, listless, heavy, passive, slothful and slow. There is no room for more. Being hungry can mean anticipating, craving, longing, yearning, desiring, aspiring and hoping. There is always room for more.
When it comes to the body and blood of Christ in which we partake at every eucharist, I wonder, are we fuller or hungrier? We are blessed to be able to celebrate the Eucharist not only on Sundays but on weekdays. This was the theme of a letter written by Blessed John Paul II in 1980 on the “Mystery and Worship of the Most Holy Eucharist.” The former Pope was concerned that unlike decades past, everyone was now going to communion (emphasis added). He didn’t say this was a bad thing. He was merely trying to stimulate our awareness of what we are doing when we partake in Christ’s body and blood by saying, “If our eucharist is authentic, it must make us grow in the awareness of the dignity of each person. The awareness of that dignity becomes the deepest motive of our relationship with our neighbor.” In other words, do we who so casually and freely approach the table of the Lord realize what it means to say “Amen”? As we celebrate the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, let us pray for the grace of awareness.
O Lord, for those who hunger for daily bread or human dignity, we pray. Amen.
Tried and True: Trinitarian Love
I was deeply moved by a recent story in the news. Identical twin brothers, Julian and Adrian Riester, both Franciscan Friars, died within hours of each other at the age of 92. These brothers were not only identical, they were inseparable. They went to school together, worked together, played together, and joined the Franciscan order together 65 years ago. They spent much of their time working as gardeners and carpenters at St. Bonaventure University in New York. Though they were a lot alike, they each had unique personalities. It was said that Adrian was more talkative than the more quiet Julian. I can’t help reflecting on the intimacy, the closeness and the radical nearness they shared—even to the point of death. Both died of heart failure, Brother Julian in the morning and Brother Adrian in the evening.
This story helps me to relate to the mystery of the Holy Trinity, which we celebrate this weekend. Like Julian and Adrian, the persons of the Trinity are separate yet connected, alike yet distinct, diverse yet unified. We celebrate Trinity Sunday once a year. Yet, every Sunday our prayer is trinitarian: we pray to God through Christ, in the Spirit; We profess the Trinity in our Creed; In fact, we began our spiritual lives by being baptized in the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Our entire lives are immersed in the Trinity!
Julian and Adrian lived and loved in community, not only with each other, but with the community of Franciscans. They existed not only for themselves but for others in lives of selfless giving and service. So, too, God lives and loves in a community of persons, and with us—selflessly giving, loving, and teaching us to do the same.
O Lord, show us how to live with and for one another. Amen.