September 9, 2012
Verbum Domini
Why do so many, hearing the Good News of Jesus Christ, hesitate to believe it? Why do we, baptized and confirmed in Christ, sometimes fail to trust in His Word? Why do I, despite my understanding of my weakness and my need, turn my back on His call? The failure takes many forms. Perhaps, when we see a person shabbily dressed, or of a different race, we look away or even cross the street. We know that’s insensitive, but don’t want to engage in what seems even lightly risky. Perhaps something good happens to us, but we are afraid if we celebrate, the good will vanish. Perhaps some injury is done to us, or we suffer a loss, and our response is to blame God, even for some difficulty that we may have contributed to.
By the day we reach adulthood, or shortly afterward, we are all hurt, physically, psychologically or morally, by some other human being. The injury may be real, or just perceived, but after a few of these we may acquire an edge of cynicism. We get suspicious of others and their intentions.
Being needy myself, I assume that everyone else around me is just as needy, or more so. I walk around with a list of needs in my head. Some are quite basic–food, shelter, clothing, safety. I do what I can to meet those needs for myself and my family. As I journey through life, I reason that everyone I encounter has a list of needs, and that those needs are to them more important than any needs I might have. In fact, I may even, from bad experience, believe that the other person may not hesitate, given the chance, to take what he needs from me.
When you run into someone who doesn’t tell you what he needs, who seems to discount his own needs in favor of yours, who only seeks to help you fulfill your own needs, our learned suspicion puts up its periscope and listening devices. We act like a wise child being approached by a stranger with candy or a puppy. “What’s with this guy, or gal, anyway? Why doesn’t this person act needy and ask me to fulfill those needs? Is this what love means?”
When, month after month, this lover continues to do nothing but help, bombards us with gifts and assurances of unselfish concern, and forgiving our every mistake or affront, we really can respond only in one of two ways: We can succumb to our suspicions and flee. We’ve been hurt so many times before, we just can’t believe that there is someone this selfless, this loving, this forgiving. We understand that at some point, if we fall in love, we will be asked to surrender something precious, something that we just don’t want to give up.
Alternately, we can allow ourselves to fall in love. When we do that, we understand that we must freely offer and give that which is most precious to ourselves. This is the act of trust that must be the basis of any life commitment, whether it is in marriage, the priesthood, or the religious life. Fall in love, and give everything away. Fall in love, and risk it all.
The deaf man had no idea what words sounded like, and he could barely make his needs known with speech. He would make signs and hope that people would understand and care enough to help him. Then his few friends heard about the itinerant Jewish preacher who had a reputation for healing the blind and deaf and sick, and they brought him to Jesus. The last word he couldn’t hear was the word that healed him–the command from the Master to be opened. Ephphatha. The “ah. . .” was the first sound that vibrated in his eardrum, that signaled to his mind that nothing would ever be the same. And from that moment he couldn’t stop talking, or shouting, or singing.
Have you had that experience–falling in love with Jesus? Perhaps it was on a retreat, or on a pilgrimage, or in the midst of a personal crisis when Jesus touched you, maybe even spit, and said the word of healing. Perhaps, like Augustine, you picked up the Scriptures and opened it to a word that ripped open a hard heart and let the grace of Christ flow in. Or maybe you heard a choir in a resonant cathedral and the word of God filtered in like water and set you free. From that moment you knew that you would do anything to give thanks to the One who lived and died and rose again so you would not have to die in your pain and suffering and sin. You owe Him. He built the Church so you would have access to his mercy.
It would be a tragedy if anyone were lost to Christ, lost forever. So the Church is challenging us to a new evangelization, a new outreach to those who have left our fellowship, or who have never been invited. Millions are looking for Ultimate goodness, truth and beauty. Yet the media have confused them. They are looking for the good in bad places. They think, like Pilate, that there is no absolute truth. The only way to get the attention of the lost is to hit them in the face with beauty–the frieze of the Holy Spirit’s descent on Mary and the apostles facing Blanco road, our prayer-inspiring statuary and stations. And, most certainly, music like they’ve never heard–musical prayer.
For the past five years, I have been studying very intensively the best musical practices of churches across this country. As you may know, I have accepted the pastor’s invitation to build on the foundation established by Damon and Alex with this 11:30 choir, to expand it in numbers and in repertoire into the vision seen by our bishops. I have been impressed with the choir and congregation here at this Mass. You praise the Lord in song, and many of you do it enthusiastically. We can be a center of evangelization right here. To do this we will hire a professional organist, hopefully quite soon. I will serve without compensation as choir director, and hopefully bring at least fifteen more choir members into this happy ministry, and train more cantors for ministry. We need that in order to sing the Word of God effectively. The plan is to debut the enhanced choir with organ and piano in mid-October. To do this, we have only three requirements:
First, I implore all of you to raise this high purpose to God in prayer, every day. Pray for our liturgical life and our music across the parish. All of us can do this, daily. Make it part of your prayer of evangelization. Second, I have heard thirty or forty voices among this congregation who can and should be in our choir. We can’t do it without you–men and women, young and old. Please ask God if that is His will for you. And, third, we can’t do it without additional financial support. In ten years of ordained ministry I have never asked you for a dime. But to make this happen, we need money. Good organists are rare because it takes ten to twenty years to develop their huge skill set and artistry, and they need to pay their bills. Those of you who can, please give some additional dollars, even ten or twenty, every week. We cannot impoverish our other parish programs. Each of you is called to support our effort in at least one of these three ways. Remember, whatever you are called to do, God will not be outdone in generosity. He rewards those who follow His will. Your prayer, your voice, your money may be the finger of Jesus’s hand reaching out to heal a lost soul.
