WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT...

BEING HUMAN

An Introduction

I love trees.

Especially I love old ones. In the park near where I live there are some fine ancient oaks which, by the size of their trunks, must have taken root centuries ago. I love their gnarled, pocked surfaces with their massive branches, some of which have been blown off in gales and others fallen away with age. They have stood sentient there for centuries, witnesses to ages past; through the reigns of the Charles’ and George’s, William’s and Victoria and so many more they are silent witnesses to the passage of time.

            But what I admire about them is that they are simply there; they stand still, able to bend with the wind no matter how destructive it may be. They are just – being themselves – being trees. That’s all they can be yet in being what they are they have given pleasure to generations. Their innate beauty can be looked at or ignored for they do not need our gaze, just our respect. They are supported in the air by invisible roots thrust deep into the soil from where they draw their strength and energy, from which they are nurtured and nourished. No superficial, passing life for them. They know they need to be rooted for, if they are not, they will fall yet what is essential for them is invisible to the eye, as a little prince once observed.

            You can notice so many trees, but how often do we really see a tree? When was the last time you looked at one, really looked at one? I only ask because, like trees, we can easily notice people without really seeing them – what is essential to them is invisible to the eye – just as we can take ourselves for granted. How often do we stop to reflect on the wonder of our being? Really see and value who we are? This book is intended to help you stop for a moment and wonder at this matter of being human. Millenia ago, when someone did just that, they went on to declare:

I thank you for the wonder of my being, for the wonders of all your creation

And if you raise your eye past the topmost branches of the trees and, at night, gaze on the sky above and around you I wonder if your sense of marvel might be aroused as you look upon the myriad of stars? What might you want to say as you contemplate the heavens?  Possibly the same person who realised the wonder of their being all those years ago was also the one who wrote about the way that, when they considered the heavens, the moon and the stars which are set in their places, they then reflected on humanity and wondered – why. Are we, who make such a mess of things worth wondering at, worth being cared about? And the answer, of course, was ‘yes’.

            Sadly, trees die. Sometimes of old age and, sometimes, because their tap root gets broken. I wonder if our society has become separated from our tap-root, the one reaching deep into the past which has been nourished by faith? Having traveled in other cultures where faith and belief is strong it’s interesting to hear how we are viewed by some, and how strong the poorest can be when they are rooted in faith. I recall hearing someone complain to me that westerners were worse than animals because we had lost faith – had jettisoned God. For them, to be human meant being a person of faith and to abandon that made us more to be pitied than the brute beasts.

Seeing behind the mask

            But isn’t this business of being human about discovering a depth of being which connects us with the deepest streams of life? A few years ago, after a period of solitude, a person drove into their local town and noticed the people walking down the streets in a way he had not seen them before. Later he, wrote:

‘I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which (I believe) God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the Sun.’

But how often do we let ourselves wonder at our being – and wonder, why? Why did I come into being? Am I just an accident, just the work of biological processes? Or am I the consequence of so much more – of all the care and attention, the love and compassion that has been shown me? Or not. Is my strength to be measured in how I live with weakness, my glory the way I own who I am ‘warts and all’? The wisdom of the ages tells us that to be fully human is to be able to accept myself just as I am, accept the truth of who I am when I am naked of whatever I clothe myself with and to know that I am loved with a passion that is greater than life.

What’s it all about?

            I want to explore why we’re here and of being loved; to look at brokenness and loss and the need for compassion, respect and worth. To consider the gods of our age, of bread and circuses, and what really makes us rich; what it means to have worth and the way that insecurity can cripple us. To consider pain and suffering, success and failure. In the past people have looked to religion for help but, for many in the West, the tap-root of faith has been rejected, God seems dead and religion is for dummies. But I want to look deeper and see if what religion once offered for human well-being might still have something to offer 21^st century western society. And to look at how Jesus might picture God for us and how his story might be timeless, just as those oaks in the woods have so much to give if only we would look at them with the eye of the heart.

Late have I loved you,

O Beauty ever ancient, ever new,

late have I loved you!

You were within me, but I was outside,

and it was there that I searched for you.

In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.

You were with me, but I was not with you.

Created things kept me from you;

yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all.

You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.

You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.

You breathed your fragrance on me;

I drew in breath and now I pant for you.

I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.

You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

(Augustine of Hippo)

31st SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

“Be silent, still, aware,
for there, within your heart,
the Spirit is at prayer.
Open and receive,
heart-wisdom.
Christ”

INTRODUCTION
There can be few people (especially readers of the Daily Mail) who are unaware, and probably have a view about, the fiasco that has enveloped the BBC this past week. The broadcast of Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand’s phone call, closely followed by the disgusting comments about the Queen on ‘Mock the Week’, has had enormous repercussions and raised serious issues about ‘taste and decency’ in the media. What are the boundaries that broadcasters should not cross? Just because a Radio 2 audience might be younger than those who listen to Radio 4, or those who listen to ‘Mock the Week’ are assumed to like outrageous content, does that mean broadcasters should pander to our least reputable instincts? Maybe. As one member of the public said when asked to comment, “I try to teach my children not to swear, to be respectful to others and so on, but my efforts are undermined by what they are exposed to by some of the programmes to which they listen.”

Our society is exposed to a vast range of communicators and I realise it is hard for many parents to know how they can nurture their children with decent values. Clearly, for some, the church provides one means to help support their efforts.

I mention all this because our readings today touch on questions of standards of behaviour for Christians as we seek to help create a civilised society. St. Paul, in his letter to Christians in the Thessalonica, reminds them that he has sought to live a ‘blameless’ life. Jesus, in a different context, satirizes the Pharisees and warns people not to look up to people who cannot be trusted, reminding them that the only person to look to – the only ‘father’ who matters – is our Father in heaven.

Now I always blush with a sense of embarrassment when I hear Jesus’ words: You must call no one on earth father. OK. In Jesus’ time no one did call clergy Father. Called them Rabbi, or Teacher. So does that mean we can’t call anyone ‘father’, or ‘dad’. And what about ‘Mother’?

Why did Jesus make such a sweeping statement?

One way to approach a particular passage of scripture is by asking ourselves two questions.
Firstly, “What’s going on here?” That would mean delving a little deeper. And, secondly, “What does this mean for us?” What’s the good news for us? So, firstly, what’s going on here?

Once again, Jesus expresses his anger at the Pharisees, that group of pious Jews who put great emphasis on traditional beliefs and practices. But they also sought to make the love of God and love of neighbor the chief commandments. However, many Pharisees of Jesus’ time went further and sought to make their way of life even more distinctive. The Pharisees whom Jesus satirizes attempted to keep themselves in a state of purity at all times. They were scrupulous in their behavior and took great care not to come in contact with any source of defilement.

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is not criticizing those who try faithfully to keep the Law. He is speaking about those who forget what really mattered in the Law – not just keeping the rules but loving God and neighbor by seeking to exercise justice and mercy and faithfulness. And he is speaking to those who work hard at keeping the letter of the law while forgetting about the spirit of the law. Jesus criticizes the Pharisees because they don’t practice what they preach; and, in so doing, Jesus, and others like him, reminds us all of the need to practice what we preach. So, the next question is ‘What does this mean for us?’

Well, it’s a challenge to rethink our primary relationship. Yet again he is pressing home the need all human beings have of getting their relationship with God right so that all other relationships will flow from that.

THE SPIRITUALITY OF HOLINESS
In the wake of the controversy about standards in the BBC, we are also in the midst of the great season of the saints. Yesterday we celebrated All Saints and tomorrow we will commemorate the Holy Souls. These two great celebrations of all who rest and rejoice in the Love of God are annual reminders that we belong to another world as well as this one – to the world of God’s kingdom which we are invited to enter.

Yesterday at Mass I read out some words of the late, great Cistercian, Thomas Merton: ‘For me to be a saint means to be myself. The problem with sanctity is, in fact, the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self.’

This is what it means to be a Christian. To want to discover my true identity. Are we not more than so-called comedy programmes reflect us as being? People whose humour is susceptible to mockery, jibe, insult and humiliation. If so, we have cause to be ashamed.

But religion reminds us that we were created to overcome our lower nature and discover the beauty of our true selves. As Merton went on to say: ‘God leaves us free to be whatever we like. … We may be true or false, the choice is ours. We may wear now one mask and now another, and never, if we so desire, appear with our true face. But we cannot make these choices with impunity. Causes have effects, and if we lie to ourselves and to others, then we cannot expect to find truth and reality whenever we happen to want them. If we have chosen the way of falsity we must not be surprised that truth eludes us when we finally come to need it!’

The Saints are those men and women – sometimes quite awkward and difficult people – who, realising the hollowness of their lives, seek to be real before God. They aren’t simpering, holier-than-thou people of no earthly use. They are women and men who have realised their ‘hollowness’ and want to let God be God in their lives. People who are not necessarily ‘good’ or ‘nice’ but people who, realising their earthiness and shallowness who want to be touched and filled by God.

As someone once said, ‘The test of Catholic Christianity is not whether it can make good men better, but whether it can make bad men holy.’

CONCLUSION
In coming to Mass and sharing in the celebration of these mysteries, we are invited to enter into the communion of saints who are constantly present to us as we seek to draw closer to the mystery of God. We may not always realise that this is the edge of the Mystery we call God, but it is a fact. And only he who sees, with the inner eye of the soul, will open his heart to be filled with the glory of this God-mystery. The Holy Gifts that are offered, the Bread of Christ’s Body and the Wine of His Blood, are offered to fill our open mouths and empty hearts with a taste of the glory that is ours for the asking. Our spiritual being needs nurturing and caring for, else it will lie dormant and be prone to the myriad influences that shape us but will never grow to the fullness for which we have the potential.

And it is the duty of your priests – your ‘Fathers’ and ‘Mothers’ in God – to encourage you to deepen your being-in-God.

These final days of the Christian Year, from All Saints to Advent, are full of reminders of this and present us with the opportunity of saying a deeper ‘yes’ to God. This House of Prayer is filled with his presence: there is nothing, now, to separate you from the love of God in Jesus Christ and His saints.

Amen