homily given at Saint Cecelia Parish in Jasper, AL
Matthew 5:13- 16 "You are the salt of the earth ... You are the light of the world."
I do realize that Christmas has now officially ended. The feast of the Presentation of the Lord, which the Church celebrated this past Wednesday, was the last effort to nudge us in the ribs and remind us that the Birth we just finished celebrating has cosmic effects. Something small and simple has changed the course of history. In a smaller way, so too do a speech, a march, a personality … have the power to change our world. Even a lumpy piece of clay.
This week’s feast and its connection with Christmas reminded me of a young boy sitting at a folding table messing with a lump of clay. We were asked to make something for our parents. As a class we made home-made Play-doh … it was kind of gross which made it fun. Then we were put, four to a table, and asked to make something. I am not an artist and already at age six I was certain that creativity was not my strength. No, I was much better at deconstruction, chaos. But, never the less, we were to create something to bring home to mom and dad. An ornament of some sort. Even my attempt at Frosty – a lumpy white snowman was an utter disaster – though I did enjoy the fact that his head kept falling off and hitting the floor. After being told that a headless snowman was not going to pass for Christmas. I took my little fist and smashed the head on the table. Brilliant!!! I smashed the whole thing flat like a pancake and pushed it together. I rolled some straws and smashed those. I made some candy-cane shaped things and smashed those. Now I had Santa … -the Flat man-Claus. It was not pretty, his arms and legs tended to drop off initially but the teacher ruined that with a little Elmer’s Glue once it was dry. Then I took my “creation” home. To my utter bewilderment it was a success. My mother loved it. Dad was too much like me to maintain the illusion of art so he just feigned silent interest. And for the past 25 years I have worked to keep that embarrassment off of our tree. I have packed it at the bottom of the box, I have stashed it in odd places, but in the end my mother continues to rescue it and put it on the front of the tree. She has clearly been toying with senility for years.
Yes, ordinary things can have extraordinary and unexpected effects.
Two weeks ago now my high school students returned from our trip to Washington, DC. They were there for the March for Life. There were a lot of firsts for them. First time in DC. First time to march alongside half-a-million people all with the same purpose. First time at a celebration of the Eucharist with too many priests to count, cardinals, bishops, a Papal Nucio, and message from the Holy Father. First time in a stadium filled from top to bottom by fellow Catholics. It made an impression. I was concerned the purpose of the trip would get lost in the big city, travel time, and goofing off with friends. I was completely wrong. Sure they did have fun. But what I heard and saw was more than I could have hoped for. Surrounded by thousands people, there on a mission, these high school students and even some middle-school students, became passionate. And unlike most things in High School the passion has yet to fade. It’s hard enough to get students to retain information beyond the quizzes, I certainly didn’t expect them to still be planning new things for next year: “Father, can we make some tall banners. Father can we bring more people. Father, can more of us serve the Bishop’s Mass next year?” And even more impressive, is that they are finding new ways to Choose Life – my seniors started coming up arguments for the personhood of the unborn based on this year’s philosophy and theology classes. My sophomores have been highlighting the need for human dignity in every area of life. My freshmen have been pointing out the message of life we find in Sacred Scripture. And so I have simply let them search and teach me all the “new” things they have discovered.
Yes, ordinary things can have extraordinary and unexpected effects.
And what could be more ordinary than common salt and light? Salt is in the kitchen, it’s on the table, it’s in the sea, it’s found underground, it even collects on our eyebrows and drips into our eyes during hard work. Salt is everywhere and our bodies need salt in moderation. Our food becomes more rich with it. Our lives would be bland without it. And Jesus compares us to this salt. “You are the salt of the earth.” Somehow we are called to become that ordinary thing which gives new life to the world around us. We are called to disappear in the mix of the world and somehow bring flavor to a world that is depressed, empty, or lifeless. We are called to be Christ in the world. But we already knew that. We knew that when we heard the Beatitudes last Sunday. We knew that Christ was calling us to rise above the bare minimum and strive to reflect the image of God in the world. We knew that from the Book of Leviticus – Be holy for the Lord your God is Holy! We knew that from St. Paul – “Brothers and sisters, consider your own calling.” But perhaps what we have forgotten is how. How do we come salt to the earth?
In contrast to the hidden savory salt, Jesus calls us the light of the world. Now instead of simple hidden acts, we are called to bring some things into the open. We are called to stand up and reveal something to a world in shadows. Jesus is the Light from Light. He is the dawn from on high. What then are we if Christ calls us the light of the world too? We are what we eat. We eat all kinds of things, but there is one thing that we eat that changes us from the inside out. We receive the Body and Blood of Christ. We become what we consume. That was why Christ gave us his flesh and blood. That is why he offered himself for us on the Cross. That we might have life and have it to the full. So what’s wrong with us? Why aren’t we lit up like Christmas trees? Like candles burning brightly? Like great cathedral cities on high mountain tops? What’s gone wrong? Have we hidden Christ within us? Have we closed off a part of ourselves so that no one else sees it? Have we become ashamed of who we are trying to become and so spend most of our day wearing a mask of ordinariness, of everydayness, of I don’t want to impose my beliefs? What have we done to ourselves to cover up the light of Christ which ought to be radiating from our actions and even from our faces? What have you done with your light????
What is hidden and what is seen, salt and light, we are called to be Christian head to toe, from the inside … out. What is hidden is our attitude, our perspective on the world. Do we spend most of our day grumbling about the world? Assuming the worst of people? Do we assume that what they were doing is meant to anger us or cause us pain? What would happen if we put on the lenses of Christ? If we would see the world through the eyes of Christ? Wouldn’t we see the hearts of people? A people who wants to be happy and good and kind and generous but somehow has forgotten their way? When Christ saw these things he didn’t despair but he chose to show them the way to happiness. He knew better than we do the weakness of the world, the bad choices, the ignorance, the stubbornness, the harshness and yet he never took the easy path of despair – he chose the path of hopefulness, of generosity, of peacefulness, of authentic love. And this hidden attitude of Christ led from what was unseen to what was seen.
What is seen is our goodness? Do we see only what can’t be done, how far things have fallen, or how things aren’t like the used to be? Do we see these things and become depressed, shrug our shoulders and shake our heads, and go about our own business? Is that what Christ does in our world? The Christ who sees the very same things we see? Isn’t Christ the one who brought hope to those who felt hopeless? Isn’t Christ the one who wept with those who were weeping? Isn’t Christ the one who was passionate about living well and helping others to do the same? It’s like Isaiah said: “Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when you see them, and do not turn your back on your own.” We don’t have to fix the world, God will take care of that, all we have to do is a small act of kindness that maybe only one person sees – the person we give hope to. Hold the door, encourage, challenge, pick it up, clean it up, leave the criticism to someone else. These are works of light.
A lump of clay is nothing unless it has been touched by someone special.
- Ours have been touched by Christ.
A road trip is just another drive until it inspires hope.
- Our path is the walk with Christ.
