Inside
NCR People
in pews await a life-giving word
The lucky among us have experienced
it: a great preacher holding a congregation in the palm of her or (more likely,
the church being the way it is) his hand. Sadly, though, this is more the
exception than the rule.
The life-transforming sermon, the memorable homily, the electric
moments in church are not what they used to be, if they ever were. Indeed,
let's face it, preaching is in the doldrums.
Earlier this year, I invited comments and/or samples of
excellence. Some came in from friends or fans; others were sent by the orators
themselves. I frankly expected more passion here: higher praise or sharper
criticism. An amazing phenomenon takes place weekly, when homilists (usually
priests) have so many millions of well-meaning, sincere, searching, confused,
depressed, patient, eager people at their mercy, people waiting for a magic
word that might spring to life and grow legs and head and heart and cheer up
the world.
And that sometimes happens. All praise to those who make it
happen.
I can also think of plenty of excuses for those who can't make it
happen.
One writer, who must be nameless, writes: "For six years we had a
wonderful homilist." This man "challenged us, often using props, acting and,
during the week, dialogue Masses." Then he moved on, replaced by one who is
"good at telling us what bad people we are." Surely he doesn't mean it.
Jeff Gerst wrote from Fargo, N.D., to recommend the homilies of
Fr. John Sandell, which are on the Web, Gerst says. The letter offers several
teasers, such as: "[We can] no longer simply stand in awe, even reverent awe,
at the wonders Christ performed, and the impact he had on his society. Now we
must set out to continue those wonders on [our] own, to have [our] own impact
on [society]."
Speaking of Christ's impact: I don't think his feelings would be
hurt if I said that some of his preaching was quite average -- apart altogether
from the views of the Jesus Seminar scholars and such to the effect that he may
not have given all those sermons in the first place.
This in turn raises the issue of whether a homily should be judged
in black and white: whether reading does it justice or whether you had to be
there to get the tone, the contact with the audience. It's like some of the
best plays having more grunts than flowery speeches. A homily that may be
electric in its rapport with the audience may fall flat on the page.
Donna M. Cedar-Southworth of Sterling, Va., asks, "Why does no one
feel the urge, as I do, to write down some of what our priests say to us at
Mass?"
Eileen Moran Fortunato, who writes from Plymouth, Mass., got a
chance to strut her stuff as a "pastoral intern" while working on a degree in
pastoral ministry. "It is such an awesome privilege to share with others how
the word becomes flesh," she writes. An excerpt from one homily:
"Growth has come by making prayer more of an integral part of my
day. I praise God as I witness the sunrise on my children's early morning paper
route. I ask for mercy as I open that paper with its First World ads and read
of the poverty and despair in Third World countries. I thank God as plentiful
hot water pours forth from the shower. Growth has also come from not talking so
much as listening -- acknowledging what is, good and bad, opening myself to
what could be. I take time apart to lift up the people with whom I am
struggling or am concerned, to surrender the problems and worries that pepper
my life, to shut down my mind and open my heart.
"I would be less than honest if I did not mention that tears are
sometimes a part of the process -- tears of sorrow for weakness and sin
exposed, tears of joy for goodness and acceptance encountered, tears of fear
for what may be expected. Even so, I find that when I attempt to strip myself
in this way for even a short time during the day, the rest of it flows more
smoothly. I hear things in a new way, I see things with new eyes, I feel things
get done with less distress. It's not that life becomes perfect -- in fact,
sometimes the chaos can seem to increase -- but pervasive is the promise that
all will be well."
We will publish a few longer samples of other homilies on this
page, starting today with that of Ruth McDonough Fitzpatrick, former national
coordinator of the Women's Ordination Conference, who lives in Fairfax, Va.
Fitzpatrick says she composed and presented this as part of a recent credit
course in preaching. (Ask your pastor when he last took a course in
preaching.)
"One thing I learned," adds Fitzpatrick, "is that sermon is
out, homily is in." I feel in no position to argue with someone who so
recently took a course, but I must speak my (untutored) mind: Ever since I
first heard the word homily, at about the time of Vatican II's first
trickles of reform from Rome, I have grown to associate it with a lazy
rehashing of scripture (although it may well be that the same rehashing takes
place under the banner of sermon). I mean: The homilist reads the gospel
of the day; then he paraphrases the gospel; then he explains the paraphrase.
This becomes a lazy circle of platitudes and generalizations. I have
experienced this a million times; or approximately 99 percent of the homilies I
have heard.
The gospel is told in the context and idiom of the first century.
Unless it is translated, "updated," rendered contemporary, it is no more than
waffling with vague words like love and Good Shepherd -- and everyone knows how
many shepherds you will find at the average suburban Mass.
Wanted: passion, conviction, imagination.
In the April 11 issue, in Paul
Wilkes' article about Presentation parish in Upper Saddle River, N.J., amid the
vagaries of writing and editing we neglected to note that in addition to Pastor
John McDermott, Presentation also has a parochial vicar, Fr. Jerry Hahn.
Among life's ironies: As Chicago's
new Archbishop Francis E. George has moved higher and higher in the church --
undoubtedly soon to join the College of Cardinals -- his brother Oblate, Fr.
Tissa Balasuriya, has been brought low. Dare we hope that George, apparently a
man of generous heart, might use his contacts in Rome, his pastoral
sensitivities and his mediating skills to get the excommunication of Balasuriya
repealed? Balasuriya told NCR that George had visited Sri Lanka when he
was vicar general of the Oblates. "But that was before my troubles began,"
Balasuriya said.
And thanks to Sarita Cargas,
graduate theology student at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis and daughter of
longtime NCR contributor Harry Cargas, who, at NCR's behest,
combed the St. Louis University library in search of George's published
writings.
-- Michael Farrell
National Catholic Reporter, April 25,
1997
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