Become What You Receive 6-6-2021

June 6th, 2021

In the November 1998 issue of Food & Wine magazine, writer
Gerri Hirshey tells the story of her grandmother’s “special ministry” to
her family:
“As a child, I often watched my tiny Italian grandmother,
Geraldine, board a city bus cradling a mason jar of hot minestrone. This
meant that someone – Uncle Carmine, Aunt Antoinette – was down. It
didn’t matter whether they were felled by the flu, a feisty gallbladder or
the evil eye. Having heard the alarm, Nonnie (our name for grandma)
tied on an apron and started banging soup pots.
“For nearly half a century, Nonnie was the Designated Soup
Carrier (DSC) for a sprawling Neapolitan network of family and friends
in Stamford, CT. Somewhere between a field medic and a shrink, a
DSC is found in many cultures and is usually female. In the midst of
crisis, her prescriptives are basic and sustaining: Stop a minute. Taste
this. Life is good.” Nonnie’s daughter Rose – Gerri’s mother – eventually became the
DSC for her brothers and sisters and their families; now, granddaughter
Gerri has assumed the duties of DSC for her generation. The Designated
Soup Carrier’s in Gerri Hirshey’s family model Jesus’ vision for the
Sacrament of the Eucharist. Nourished and sustained by the food we
have received, we become nourishment and sustenance for others. Out
of love, Christ gives us himself in bread and asks us to become, in our
love, bread for others – Designated Christ Carriers (DCC).
Here are several examples:
A. He was old, tired, and sweaty, pushing his homemade cart;
stopping now and then to poke around somebody’s garbage. I
wanted to tell him about Eucharist, but the look in his eyes, the
despair in his face, told me to forget it, so, I smiled and I said
“Hi” and I gave him Eucharist.
B. She lived alone, her husband dead, her family gone, as she
talked at you – not to you, words, endless words. So I listened
and gave her Eucharist. C. He sat across my desk – very nervous. He finally said it, “I
have AIDS” – by God’s grace, I did not say, how did you get
AIDS?” – I said “How can I help?” I gave him Eucharist.
I close:
As you, as we – say our Amen today at communion time – let us
remember and take to heart these words – “We receive Eucharist – to
become Eucharist for others. Let us remember and take to heart this
challenge – the work of proclaiming God’s reconciling love belongs to
every one of us, whether we collect taxes, teach math, manage a Fortune
500 company or shine shoes for a living – may we possess the greatness
of spirit and generosity of heart to be ministers of the Gospel –
Designated Christ Carriers, in whatever place we are in, whatever time
God has given us. Amen. “We receive Eucharist – to become Eucharist
for others.”

Trinity Sunday 5-30-2021

May 30th, 2021

The people who ask the most questions about God are children and
theologians – and their questions are surprisingly similar. Does God
exist? Where does He live? What does He look like? Where did He
come from and how does He spend His “time”? The search never stops.
When one inquiry is answered, it usually triggers others.
Actually, the deep mysteries of religion are not answered but only
commented on. Even Jesus didn’t give direct responses most of the
time. He replied with a story, a parable, or a comment. “What is the
Kingdom?” they asked, and He responded, “It’s a net full of fish.”
“How about the Church, what is it?” “A mustard seed.” “How can you
tell if a person is wise or foolish?” “One builds a house on rock, the
other on sand.” These are not complete answers but enlightening
comments designed to make people think Trinity Sunday presents us with some real puzzlers. Can you
explain the Holy Trinity? No! But we can make a comment: it’s like a
triangle, a shamrock or something that is three and yet one.
Religion is well supplied with a multitude of unfolding mysteries
of which the Trinity is only one – a major one. It’s no real
accomplishment to ask a question which perplexes the experts, for we
have millions more good questions than good answers. People often
think that the priest, bishop or pope, is the “answer man.” Not so.
These persons are expected to have some penetrating insights, but
basically they cannot answer religious mysteries. Their best response is
to make an intelligent comment in the form of a symbol, story or
perhaps a simple act of faith.
The mysteries of religion are not the kind which are waiting to be
solved. Rather, they are to continue as mysteries and be acknowledged
and appreciated. The Trinity is saying something to us about God’s
inmost nature. Although it is beyond human explanation, we will have
our own “answers” but they will all be incomplete. God is too big and complicated for our little minds to grasp completely. But even though
He cannot be fully explained, we can always admire and believe God.
On a more down to earth level.
A high school teacher was talking to her students about the Trinity.
After her presentation she gave her class a writing assignment on this
question: “Which person of the Trinity do you relate to best at this time
in your life?”
I’d like to share with you three student answers to that question.
One boy wrote:
“My father and I have a zero relationship. I need a father right
now, and since I can’t turn to my own dad, I turn to my Father in
heaven. I sometimes talk to him about my problems, the way I would
like to talk to my dad about them.”
One girl wrote:
“My brother lives with my father, and I live with my mother. Ever
since my parents’ divorce two years ago, we hardly ever see each other
anymore. I never thought I’d miss my brother, but I do. So now I’ve kind of adopted Jesus as a brother.” Finally another boy wrote:
“Just recently I began praying to the Holy Spirit. I’m going to
college in a year, and I have no idea what I want to take up. I hope the
Holy Spirit will enlighten me. Anyway, I’m praying to him for
guidance.”
I find those comments refreshingly honest. I also find that they
make me ask myself, “Which person of the Trinity do I relate to best?”
I close.
God, you are profound in your mystery, and you never cease to
amaze me; I sometimes come to think that I have you figured out, and
then you zap me, and remind me that you are beyond the limitations of
my insight.
As I search for the words, titles, songs and images that attempt to
corner you, help me to know that you are beyond my words, deeper than
any effort to be “inclusive,” because what really matters, is that you
exist and that I see you present in your creation.Amen.

Outsiding 5-23-2021

May 22nd, 2021

The sister who taught religion to the juniors at a Catholic high
school was ill. Another sister, Sister Joan, was going to substitute for
her. She was a superb teacher and a compassionate listener. But as
Sister Joan entered the classroom, one of the students–wanting to look
smart and cool in front of his classmates–uttered under his breath, just
loud enough to be heard, “oh brother”.
Sister Joan warmly greeted the students and explained the day’s
lesson. She then went around the room handing out the assignment.
When she came to the student who made the remark, she simply said,
“Thanks a lot. That hurt.”
She knew who had “outsided” her.
“Outsiding” someone — to marginalize a person, to intentionally place
that individual outside the group, to make sure that an individual
understands his or her “place”. We “outside” many individuals who
don’t measure up to our standards of success and standing, who don’t meet our wants and expectations, whose mere presence, we fear, will
diminish our vision of ourselves and our group. But at Pentecost, no one
was left on the “outside”, no one was left beyond the margins. Peter and
the apostles realize that the Jesus they encountered detests such
“outsiding” — and the Spirit of Pentecost now enables them to preach to
all, opening the hearts and minds — and ears — of those present to hear
God’s invitation to embrace the love of the Risen One.
I close, God calls everyone to his church. The Spirit gathers all
into the community of faith. The problem is, we humans, the Church,
don’t always agree with the people God calls. I pray this for us all. May
the fire of Pentecost make us ministers of God’s reconciliation in our
time and place, refusing to “outside” anyone but make it possible for
everyone to take their place in the household of God. On this Pentecost
Sunday, when we say often All are Welcome, may we really believe it
and act like we believe it — All of Us, The Church