February 2016 – Journeying Into Mystery

Blinded by the light … a homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, Year C

Photo: 12th century Icon from the Sinai.

We have entered our second week in our Lenten desert. As we do so, through the eyes of Peter, James, and John, God allows us a glimpse of the glorified Jesus. We see Jesus as he truly is.

As we, with the apostles, behold the image of Jesus glorified, let these words of St. John’s 1^st letter resonate within us. “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” Listen to that 2^nd sentence once more. “We do know that when it is revealed, we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is.”

We shall be like him, transfigured. When you got up this morning and looked into the mirror, did you notice a certain glow about you? Was there some kind of aura of multiple colors of light surrounding the image looking back at you from the mirror? Bloodshot eyes don’t count, just in case you were wondering.

If we believe what St. John wrote, in beholding Jesus today, we also see that which will be for all those who faithfully follow Jesus. We, too, will assume the glory that the apostles saw in Jesus.

If we all have this ability to be transformed beyond who we are at this very moment, how on earth do to get to the state of being Transfigured? The “how” by which we may become transformed is clearly outlined by Jesus in all four gospels. However, there is one passage from Luke’s gospel in which Jesus indicates the path we must take in order to become Transfigured. It is a passage that many of us do not want to hear.

Jesus said in Luke’s gospel, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

This saying of Jesus is not widely embraced in our present age in which the glorification of the individuality of each person has taken on narcissistic qualities. This is best understood by the old light bulb joke. How many narcissists does it take to screw in a light bulb? The answer is one. He holds the bulb and the whole world revolves around him. Today, it seems that which holds importance for many people is only that which benefits their individual self. When the only criteria used to judge something is the question, “What’s in it for me?”; if the answer is negative, then it is rejected, no matter how much benefit it might hold for the common good of all people. Jesus is telling us that the glorification of the individual self by this means is a false glorification. It is a glorification that is baseless.

Jesus tells us that it is only in a loss of self that we gain knowledge of our true self, in which our glorified self can truly be revealed. To deny ourselves, is not to neglect our self-care, for self-care is a necessary part of discipleship. Jesus practiced good self-care. In order to do the work he did, he had to find time for recreation, nourishment, for rest, and for prayer. However, his principle focus in life was not on himself, but rather in doing the will of God his Father, and in serving others. He emptied himself in love for God his Father, and in love for the people he served.

To lose ourselves, is to let go of the selfishness and self-centeredness of our lives. When the prejudices that we harbor, the false gods of pride, power, and greed that were all a part of the temptations we heard in last Sunday’s gospel, get stripped away from our lives, we come to know that which is most important, that which is most vital for eternal happiness and life.

As our prayer life deepens, when we do more than just talk at God, but quiet ourselves and really listen to God, we enter the cloud that enveloped the apostles today. Rather than being frightened by the voice of God speaking to us in prayer, we are able to listen to the voice of God and enter into the mystery of God’s message to us.

As we model our lives after that of Jesus, and pour our lives out in loving service to others, we will find happiness that is eternal. True happiness is not in the acquiring and receiving of things, but rather in giving, especially the giving of ourselves to others. Those who give of themselves in loving service to others find that they receive more from those they serve, then that which they gave.

From our baptism we carry upon our foreheads the mark of the cross of Jesus. This mark was first signed on our foreheads by our parents, our godparents, and the priest or deacon. This cross holds the key to our destiny, to our own transfiguration. As we daily deny ourselves, and pick up our cross, whatever it may be, to follow Jesus, we know that when our cross becomes too burdensome, too oppressive, he will be there alongside us to help us. He knows firsthand what it means to carry a cross, and he will lift the cross from our shoulders and carry it for us. Jesus knew that the path to the Resurrection was only by taking up his cross first and carrying it. It is only in carrying our own cross that we can journey to the Resurrection and the Transfiguration that awaits us.

To be transfigured takes a lifetime. It is a gradual transformation. As we increasingly live a deepening prayer life, and a lifetime of service to others, we will find as we look into the mirror that gradually, the dark layers of the false self that cloak us is stripped away, and that which remains is the glorified light of who we truly are.

Welcome to the desert. A homily for the 1st Sunday of Lent, Year C

Every 1^st Sunday of Lent we encounter the story of Jesus being tempted by Satan in the desert. Traditionally, our understanding of Jesus’ temptations underscores 3 of the vices greatly experienced by humanity: gluttony (turning stones into bread), hubris or pride (throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple), and power (Jesus being shown all the kingdoms of the world). Other theologians and biblical scholars including Pope Benedict XVI see the temptation of Jesus as having to choose between being the Political Military Messiah, leading a Jewish army to victory over the Roman army, or being the Pastoral Spiritual Messiah. The way that Pope Benedict states this is that when Satan tempts Jesus, the temptation Jesus faces is choosing either the path of Messianic love and self-sacrifice or a path of Messianic Power and Success.

Note that in the very first sentence of this gospel story, Jesus is LED by the Spirit into the desert. Jesus does not seek out the desert. This is not something he chooses for himself. Deserts in most of the world are barren, nasty places. Against his better judgment Jesus feels this impulse to be pushed and dragged by the Holy Spirit out into the desert. I think it is safe to say, that like Jesus, very few of us willingly seek out the isolation and barrenness of the deserts in our lives. Yet, nonetheless, within our lifetimes we find ourselves in our own particular desert.

What are the deserts in our lives? Like the desert in which Jesus was tempted, they are not very welcoming places. Our deserts often involve pain and sacrifice on our part. The deserts in our lives are so scary and unpleasant that we frequently want to avoid them at all costs. Our desert might be a significant illness, cancer, heart disease, diabetes, Alzheimer’s disease or some chronic illness. The desert might be the loss of a significant relationship. It might be a death or a divorce. Our desert might be the loss of a job, being unemployed for a long time, or some other crises that puts a tremendous financial burden upon us. Our desert might be an addiction of some kind.

While we are in the desert, we, like Jesus, are open and prone to temptation. The three temptations that Jesus faced are placed at our feet. We may feel tempted to believe that God is somehow against us, plotting our ruin. We may feel tempted to turn our back on God or to deny God altogether; to live as if only we are God and only we have power and the ability to control all aspects of our lives. We may succumb to our own base desires, getting drawn into whatever satisfies our senses for the moment, whatever sensual pleasure that might be. Or we might fall into the darkness of despair, believing that God no longer loves us and has abandoned us. Yes our deserts are real and filled with temptation.

However, being in the desert can also be a time of great growth and transformation. It was only in his time in the desert that Jesus was able to define who he was as the Messiah, and what his messianic mission was to be. In March of 2002, I was involved in a head-on collision that led me into the desert of the trauma unit at North Memorial Hospital. Following surgery, lying in a bed, hooked up to all sorts of tubes, the priest for whom I was working at the time, came into my room and asked only one question, “Where is the grace in all of this?” Within our desert lies a tremendous amount of grace if only we allow ourselves to experience it. The desert has a way of emphasizing important beliefs and truths, and exposing the falsehoods or the misconceptions that are a part of our lives. In the desert, we learn to appreciate that which is truly important and essential to our lives and to jettison that which is not. The recovery from that accident took a long time. I spent a great deal of time in the desert, but discovered in so doing the abundance of grace that was present there.

As we are led into this new 40 days of our Lenten desert, let us pray to have the grace to see the potential to grow more authentically as Catholic Christians, and to grow more deeply and authentically in our relationship with Jesus.

The Cross, the common gathering place of all who follow Jesus

Photograph – A picture that I took of a Celtic cross in the cemetery of Drumcliff, County Sligo, Ireland.

“If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” (Luke 9:23-24)

The cross is the central gathering place for we who call ourselves Christian. The first symbolic gesture in Roman Catholic baptism is the tracing of the cross on the forehead of the one to be baptized. Just yesterday, many people had the cross signed on their foreheads with ashes.

The cross is the penultimate paradox as Paul expresses so clearly in his first letter the Corinthinians. “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For since in the wisdom of God the world did not come to know God through wisdom, it was the will of God through the foolishness of the proclamation to save those who have faith. For Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are called, Jews and Greeks alike, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:18, 21-25)

It is an error as we gather at the foot of the cross, to perceive the cross as the end point of Christian life. As we gaze upon the cross, we must look through it to that which lies beyond the cross, which is eternal life. The cross, as it were, is nothing but a thin veil, through which we can see eternal Life. The carrying of our crosses is to pass through this veil to the Life which awaits us. It was through the carrying of his cross that Jesus journeyed ultimately to the Resurrection. It is the pathway to the Resurrection and Life with God for us as well.

When we pick up our cross, in whatever form that cross may take, Jesus reminds us that we do not do so in isolation. Rather, as we carry our cross, he who first carried the cross, knowing firsthand its weight, assists us in our burden, helping us to carry our cross when we feel crushed by its weight. Jesus will not allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by it, but rather will carry us and our cross into the Resurrection.

As St. Paul writes, “Or are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life. For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.” (Romans 6:3-5)

Psalm Offering 4 Opus 4

Picture: A poster of Donizetti’s Opera “L’Elisir D’Amore”, “The Elixir of Love.”

I dedicated this Psalm Offering to my friend, and lyric opera tenor, David Waite. I met Dave, when I was in college. He had the lead role of Nemorino, in the opera seen to the left. I sang in the chorus, playing numerous roles, e.g. diplomat, peasant, soldier and so on (there was a lot of costume changes in the wings to say the least). Dave is one of those extraordinary personalities that one rarely encounters in life. He had tremendous confidence in his ability as an opera tenor, so much so, that he would sell his car to pay for a one way plane ticket to Sydney, Australia, to audition for a role in the Sydney Opera. He had the talent, and perhaps the moxie, that he would always get the role. He would sing, get paid, buy another car, and when the gig dried up, sell the car, and go somewhere else to audition. Later, when he would come and visit, he would regale Ruthie and I with all sorts of stories about singing at Mafia funerals in Little Italy, being involved in the Boston Opera, New York City Opera company and other opera companies around the world. Though we believed that half of his stories were based on truth and the other half bullshit, they were, nonetheless, great stories and David was a great storyteller. I still remember some of his stories to this day.

About the music: David originally requested that I write him a musical setting of a Psalm that he and his wife, another opera singer, could sing in concert. I sat down with my favorite psalm, Psalm 84, and wrote this music originally as an operatic duet. I gave the music to him and away he went to Zurich, Switzerland, where he and his wife were singing in the Zurich Opera Company. I wrote the music in 1978 and never knew whether he and his wife ever performed it in concert. The last time I saw Dave was when I was in graduate school at the St. Paul School of Divinity at the University of St. Thomas. Dave was getting a Masters in Business Administration at the University at the same time. It had been 10 years since we last saw each other and we caught up with each other over lunch. He had been divorced by his wife during that time, worked at the Boston Opera company, and decided that he was too old and tired to engage in “playing the director’s couch” in order to get singing gigs, hence deciding to focus on the business end, rather than the performance end, of the opera business. In 1988, I decided to take the setting of Psalm 84 that I had written for him ten years earlier and recompose it into the piano music that is heard here (by that time I had written different setting of the same Psalm for choir, as a present for Ruthie). The original 3 verse construction of the song has been retained with all of its operatic flourishes.

Psalm Offering 3 Opus 4

A photograph of myself, my sister, Mary Ruth, and my mother, about one year before Mary Ruth’s death.

I wrote this Psalm Offering for my sister, Mary Ruth, in 1988, 11 years before her death from Chrones Disease. I thought for some time that I had lost this music I had composed for her as a birthday present. Fortunately, I had made a rudimentary recording of the music and was prepared to reconstruct the entire score from that recording, a painstakingly slow process of listening, writing, listening and writing. It is a short piece of music, just 3 pages in length. I was surprised and greatly delighted to find in a bin of music, the first and third page of her music. Though I still had to listen to the recording to reconstruct the missing middle page, I was greatly relieved to have finally had her music back in entirety.

About the music: It is written very simply, in two part, AB form. It is in the key of F major. For some reason F major has a sonority that does not resemble any other key. There is a deep richness to that key that I have used in only 3 Psalm Offerings; Psalm Offering 6, Opus 1 (for Ruthie), this Psalm Offering, and the one that will be following this, Psalm Offering 4, Opus 4 (for David Waite).

Psalm Offering 2 Opus 4

Psalm Offering 2 Opus 4 was written for Eleanor Campbell (seen in the photograph posing with my little sister, Mary Ruth). Eleanor was a very dear family friend, who, though not related to my family by blood, was nonetheless the closest person we had as an Aunt. With all our relatives living either in Pennsylvania or Virginia, we rarely had the opportunity to be with them. Our understanding of family was greatly extended to include many of our closest friends. Eleanor was such an extraordinary person, and a very classy woman.

About the music: As a student of music I had the wonderful experience of being inundated into all kinds of music. One French composer that had an impression on me was Olivier Messiaen. Messiaen wrote a considerable amount of music. Messiaen was also an avid lover of nature and an orthinologist (study of birds). He would go about the countryside notating onto staff the bird song of all the different species of birds. He would then work that bird call into his music compositions. I remember when Dr. Callahan played an organ piece written by Messiaen for us in class. I was incredibly struck by how the bird call worked within the music. Messiaen was not the first composer to this. Beethoven had been at it, particularly in the second movement of his 6th symphony. If you listen closely, Beethoven replicates the bird song of the nightingale (flute), quail (oboe), and cuckoo (2 clarinets) into the score. Eleanor was a great lover of nature. Following the example of these two great composers, I worked into this piano piece the bird song from around my home.

Casting our nets into our own Lake of Gennesaret – homily for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Painting: The Miraculous Draught of Fish – Peter Paul Rubens

How many of you recall the scene in the “Wizard of Oz”, when Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion approach the Great Oz for the first time. As they draw closer to the Great Oz, they do so with great fear, afraid that they will be squashed by the mighty power and wrath of Oz.

Is this not how we often approach God? Great trepidation and anxiety fills our lives because, acutely aware of own imperfections, the sins we carry with us, we feel that we are unworthy to approach God in all of God’s goodness. We, like Peter in the Gospel, overwhelmed by the goodness and the greatness of God around us, fall to our knees in fear and say, “Depart from me, Lord, I am sinful.”
Jesus does not want our sinfulness and our imperfections to trap us, to prevent us from being in a relationship with God. What Jesus reminds us in the Gospel is that Jesus welcomes us into a deeper relationship with him, in spite of our sinfulness, in spite of all our imperfections. And, in having a deeper relationship with Jesus, we, in turn, are drawn into the love relationship that exists between Jesus and God the Father.

Jesus reminds us, as he does Peter, that as in all relationships, there are expectations on both parties of the relationship, to build up that relationship, to make the relationship stronger and permanent. The expectation that Jesus has of Peter, and the rest of his disciples, is that they build up the Kingdom of God on the Earth. Peter is expected to gather people, as once he gathered fish, only the net that he casts is a holy net that gathers people into a love relationship with Jesus, and in so doing, a love relationship with God who created them.

The expectation that Jesus has of Peter, is passed on to you and to me, today. We are not to stand idly by, but to be active into gathering people into a deeper relationship with Jesus. By our prayer, our words, our presence, our actions, we cast the Divine net of love over those we encounter, and encourage them into a deeper relationship with God. In baptism, we put on Christ; we became the hands, the feet, and the compassion of Jesus. Through us, Jesus continues to teach, to heal, and compassionately touch lives in a significant way.

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