A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE

I set myself up for it. We were in the middle of our confirmation class many years ago talking about the Old Testament. We were about to talk about the prophets, but first I wanted to see if they knew anything about the prophets -- including names. As I said, I set myself up; walked right into it.

           

I looked at Erin and asked, "Who was Jeremiah?" "A bullfrog," she said nonplussed. The others all laughed, most of whom got it. I did too -- both laughed and got it. "Okay, smarty," I said. "By whom?" "Three Dog Night," she replied. (For those who don't get it: "Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog" is a song by the Australian group Three Dog Night. They recorded the song ten years before anyone of those young people in the class was born.)

After we had our laugh, I wanted to cry. They knew more about Jeremiah the Bullfrog than they did about Jeremiah the Prophet. Whitney knew who Jeremiah the Prophet was, but she attended the Christian School. I would have been surprised if she did not. I did not want to ask her what she knew about the rest of the prophets because she might have told us and then embarrassed the rest of the class.

But, then, I am not sure they would have been embarrassed. They would probably argue that the words to the music they listen to speak to them much more deeply than do the words of some ancient prophet.

I knew all of that. I knew that Salvation History, as we called it back in the days when I was studying scripture (it is still called that today), was not the kind of history Erin or Whitney and their peers in the confirmation class were interested in. They were more interested in Michael Jackson's "HiStory."

Whose fault was it? Parents, myself included? Church? Children themselves? One and all. As parents we do not take enough responsibility for our children's religious education. We insist that they attend school during the week. They have no choice. But they seem to have a choice about school on Sunday. As church, we talk a lot about how important Christian Education is. But we are mostly talk. Our children only follow our lead. They talk their way out of participating.

I am generalizing, of course. There are many parents and many children who do take their faith and the responsibility of learning about their faith seriously. But there are not enough of them. Learning is life-long no matter what our age.

Jeremiah, like all the prophets, like all those who speak for God, all remind us that we will all suffer from our ignorance and our laziness. They remind us that we are responsible for learning about God and the ways of God.

THREE LIVES INTERTWINED

A little over fifty years ago a young man was ordained a priest and assigned to an Italian parish in a steel mill town. He arrived, full of himself. He was going to set the parishioners straight on the meaning of Vatican II. He was going to – well, who remembers now from all those years ago? He does fully remember being immediately assigned to lead the marriage preparation classes for over 50 couples.

In hindsight: what a joke. What did he know about marriage after having been quasi-locked up in a seminary for the last twelve years of his life? At least he was smart enough to bring in experts on finance and daily married life. But he also spoke to them about the meaning of married love, as if he were an expert on the subject having gone on two dates before entering seminary!

Then there were the couples who had to be there if they wanted to be married in the church. He was naïve in his belief that he could teach them what marriage was all about, and they were naïve in believing that they really knew what marriage was all about. Besides, they were crazy in love with each other! He only remembers one of those couples from fifty years ago because they have kept in communication over the years. He witnessed and blessed their marriage and baptized their two oldest but then moved away.

Well, the fifty years have flown by and they don’t know how it happened, and so fast. For the three of them there have been ups and downs in their personal lives. He “migrated” – the word they use – to serve as a priest in another part of the catholic church and married. Boy, was that a disaster, mostly because he had no clue what marriage was about – and yet he was teaching couples what it was about?! Later on he found someone to share his life with who taught him what love and marriage are truly all about.

And what is that? It is what that young man and young woman learned over their fifty years of married: It ain’t easy, Babe. It takes work. It takes hard work. It takes forgiveness and asking for forgiveness. It takes hanging in there when you want to run away and give it all up but deep in your heart know that the other truly loves you when you’ve made it so hard for the other to do so, and you truly love the other.

And then God blesses you to allow the three of you to come together to share the celebration of fifty years of their married love and your mutual friendship, fifty years of being together through all the ups and downs that life inevitably brings to everyone, no exception. Your wife of thirty-three years, who taught you everything you know about married life and love, was there with the three of you to celebrate.

It was small, intimate family affair with their children and grandchildren and a few close friends who had been there as they raised their children together. Ad multos annos, as we used to say, Ron and Jan and personally, Bill and Arlena.

IT’S WHAT IT’S ABOUT

Life can sometimes be so confusing, and not just to children who hear us say one thing and then we do just the opposite. Or we teach them something and then, before they have that down well, we come along and teach them something more. We teach them to print and now we want to quickly teach them cursive. They barely learn addition and we teach them subtraction.

That should not be surprising. That is what life is all about, from birth to death. The more that is given to us, the more is demanded of us. The more we are able to learn, the more we are asked and even demanded to learn, and then put what we have learned into practice and immediately. The more talents we possess, the more we are asked to demonstrate them.

But, then, is that not what talents, gifts, are for? Is that not why God blessed us with them, whatever they may be? They are given to be used, not to be buried in the ground or be saved for a rainy day or when absolutely needed. For if that is what we do with the talents and abilities God has given us, then when we need them, when we dig them up, they will be rusted and pitted and probably be useless.

Using, not burying, our talents is not a problem for most of us. Yes, publicly we may eat humble pie and “aw-shucks” it when others compliment us when we’ve done something praiseworthy; but deep down inside we know we did well. That’s not the problem. An egomaniac may be hard to live with. But if he’s honest and does well in what he brags about, well, at least he’s truthful if not irritating.

No, the problem is not with those who use their talents well. It is with those of us who don’t use them enough, with those of us who are satisfied with being okay and not the best. Being the best does not mean being better that everyone else. As much as I might want to be considered a great preacher (which I am not), I know there are many who are so much more talented and gifted than I. But then, there are those, in my humblest of opinions, who make me look like God’s gift to the pulpit. Enough already!

When our children were in school, we didn’t expect them to be the best. We hoped for the best and we expected them to do their best. And that is what God hopes for us and expects of us. And just as we helped our children if and when they needed our help in doing their best, so God helps us, God’s children, when we need God’s help in doing our best. That was our promise to our kids and God’s promise to us.

And that is what our faith is about: it is about us using the gifts and talents God has bestowed on us to the best of our ability knowing that God through the Holy Spirit will give us all the grace and strength we need to do so. All we have to do is use those gifts and cooperate with the Spirit. The question remains: am I? Are we?

THE BUCK STOPS HERE

Many people these days, and I am one of them, wear a cross around the neck. Others wear some other religious symbol as an outward sign of the faith that they profess. Sometimes, of course, these items we wear are mere pieces of jewelry and have little or nothing to do with faith.

But, again, for many people a crucifix or a dove or a medal with an image on it are practical reminders and outward manifestations of their inner faith. All this is well and good as long as that which is symbolized by the crucifix, namely our faith-life in Jesus Christ, is actually lived out by the one wearing it. We profess our faith in words, as in the Creed, and in signs, as in the crucifix; but all that is so much emptiness unless we really make the effort to imitate the life of the one who died on the cross.

You see, a cross is not just a cross. It is something much more. And when I wear that cross on a chain around my neck or carry it in my pocket, that cross is saying something to me and to everyone else. It is saying what Jesus’ cross said to him and to us: “The buck stops here!”

If Jesus ever did anything, he never passed the buck. He never said, “Don’t bother me with your problems” or “Can’t you see I’m too busy? Ask someone else” or “I’ve already given enough or done enough. Don’t ask any more of me.” Jesus never said anything like that. He never passed the buck. He never made any excuse for not doing something for someone who needed him. He never had to make an excuse because he always helped. Everyone’s problems were his problems, not because he was God’s son but because he was a person, just like you and me.

We are persons in no less a way and to no less a degree than Jesus. That crucifix we wear outwardly as a sign or carry interiorly in our hearts through our baptism, that crucifix is a constant reminder that the buck stops with you, with me. We can’t pass it. We have to do all we can, all we can, to help. No excuses. No now-wait-a-minutes, no ask-someone-elses, no nothings. We can only do what we can do, but we must do what we can.

That crucifix, that faith that is of ours, imposes responsibilities upon each and every one of us. Sometimes those responsibilities are heavy burdens. But we have to carry them and we will be able to carry them and they will seem lighter because the one who died on the cross will help us carry the load. He won’t leave us stranded. We, for our part, cannot leave anyone stranded: not our church, not our family and friends, not anyone.

Everyone and everything is my responsibility because the buck stops with me…and you and you and you. We know what our responsibilities are. No one really has to tell us of them or about them or remind us of them. The crucifix is reminder enough, whether around our neck or in our soul. So what is our excuse for all too often passing the buck?