(First Sunday of Advent (A): This homily was given on November 29, 1998 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Romans 13: 11-14.)
"The importance of responding to God's Word with an open heart."
In her book, Simply Speaking, Peggy Noonan writes about the day Mother Teresa caused a major upheaval in our nation's capital. Some of you might remember this: It was February 3, 1994--the day Mother Teresa spoke at the annual National Prayer Breakfast in Washington, D.C. Among those who had the pleasure (or displeasure) of hearing her speak that morning were Mr. and Mrs. Bill Clinton, Mr. and Mrs. Al Gore, many members of Congress, and some of the justices of the United States Supreme Court. Peggy Noonan describes the beginning of Mother's talk in this fashion:
She spoke of God, of love, of families, and told us we must love each other and care for each other. As she spoke, I looked around. There were three thousand people in the room, with a plate before each of cool scrambled eggs and warm fruit. They did not eat, but listened, leaning forward in an attitude of unconscious communion.
But then, the saintly nun began to "ruffle some feathers." Especially when she said these words: "But I feel that the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because Jesus said, 'If you receive a little child, you receive me.' So every abortion is the denial of receiving Jesus, the neglect of receiving Jesus."
Peggy Noonan says that initially there was absolute silence in the room after Mother Teresa said those words. But then the applause began. It started at one end of the hall and quickly spread across to the other. And then people stood up. They gave her a standing ovation for over five minutes!
Of course, not everybody applauded. In fact, Noonan says that during the standing ovation the Clintons and the Gores "looked like seated statues at Madame Tussaud's." But for the purposes of this homily, what I found most interesting was Noonan's description of a woman who was seated at her table during the breakfast. Listen to this:
"[During the second ovation that Mother Teresa received for her remarks on abortion], I looked once more to the woman on my right. As the applause spread she sat back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap. Then she briskly reached for her purse and took out a notepad. She took out a slim gold pen. It gleamed in the ballroom lights. She started writing down words.
I couldn't resist, I peered as un-obviously as I could to see what she was writing. 'Shop Rite,' it said on the hospital-white pad. 'Cleaners.'
She was making a To Do list. That was how she detached from the moment. She did not like what she had just heard but she couldn't walk out, couldn't boo, so she made a little list of things to do.
I looked toward the dais. Hillary Clinton was still staring straight ahead, unmoving. I imagined her looking at my table mate and yelling over, 'Don't forget the Tide.'"
With courage and conviction, Mother Teresa spoke the clear, unambiguous Word of God to the attendees at that prayer breakfast. Obviously some of them opened their hearts and accepted it--and they are better today because they did. Others, like that woman at Peggy Noonan's table, did not. And in the process, they missed a glorious opportunity given to them by the Lord: an opportunity to accept the truth, an opportunity to be transformed by the truth, an opportunity to make some positive and necessary changes in their lives.
Reading this the other day reminded me of another story--the story of another person who was also very good at tuning out God's Word--much to the chagrin of his saintly mother. (I don't think he ever made a "To Do" list when someone spoke God's truth to him, but he did manage to tune it out quite effectively for over 30 years of his life.) Among other things, this young man became involved in a strange religious cult. He began sleeping around with women. Finally he moved in with one, and they had a child out of wedlock. During those days when he was living only for the flesh his daily prayer was, "O Lord, make me chaste--but not now!" Well, it eventually caught up with him--as sin eventually catches up with everyone who refuses to repent, and he began to feel empty on the inside. He wanted to change, but he felt powerless to do so. He thought he was trapped forever by his past. But in the midst of his distress, he sincerely cried out to God one day as he walked through a garden, and God--in his great mercy--answered. Here's how he himself later told the story:
"[I cried out] 'How long, how long? Tomorrow and tomorrow? Why not now? Why not in this very hour an end to my uncleanness?'
Such words I said, weeping in the most bitter sorrow of my heart. And suddenly I heard a voice from some nearby house, a boy's or a girl's voice, I do not know: chanting and repeating over and over, 'Take up and read. Take up and read.' I ceased weeping and immediately began to search my mind most carefully as to whether children were accustomed to chant these words in any kind of game, and I could not remember that I had ever heard any such thing. I checked the flow of my tears and got up, for I interpreted this solely as a command given to me by God to open the book and read the first chapter I should come upon. For I had heard how [St.] Anthony had been admonished by a reading from the Gospel at which he chanced to be present, as if the words read were addressed to him. . . .
So I hurried back to the spot where Alypius was sitting, for I had put there the volume of [St. Paul] the apostle when I got up and left him. I snatched it up, opened it, and read in silence the chapter on which my eyes first fell: "not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh." No further wished I to read, nor was there need to do so. For in that instant, with the very ending of the sentence, it was as though a light of utter confidence shone in my heart, and all the darkness of uncertainty vanished away."
That, as many of you probably know, is the story of the conversion of Augustine. Here we see the transforming power of God's Word when it's received with an open heart. Augustine read just one single verse of Scripture (Romans 13:14)--one of the verses that we heard a few moments ago in our second reading--and he was RADICALLY changed! Just one short verse of Scripture altered his life forever.
Which brings us to consider ourselves: when God's Word is proclaimed to us--especially at Mass--do we listen with an open heart? Do we expect God to speak to us personally, as Augustine expected the Lord to speak to him that day in the garden when he opened up the Book of Romans? Or do we make "To Do" lists, or allow our minds to wander in other ways--especially when the text we hear challenges us (like the Word of God challenged that woman at the 1994 prayer breakfast)? Just think: if Augustine had not responded to God's Word in the garden that day, he might be in hell right now. Instead, he's considered to be one of the greatest saints in the history of the Church. Such is the power of God's Word to change people. Will we allow it to change us?