Homily for 31st July
It had been a most un-pretty day. A priestly colleague had died in tragic circumstances and so come the time when I sat down to pray about it all at evening prayer, I was completely gazumped. And then I remembered this prayer.
Come Holy Spirit kindle in our hearts the fire of your love.
Grant for our hallowing, thoughts that pass into words,
words that pass into deeds, deeds that pass into love and
love that passes into life everlasting you our God forever and ever
Amen.
This prayer speaks of the transformation and flow of life from thoughts to words, to deeds to love, and then ultimately onto heaven. We are forever transforming our thoughts into words, our words into deeds. Our deeds are supposed to transform us and others into love and therefore ultimately into the new life of heaven.
But on this most un-pretty day, I knew that my words were shot to pieces. There were no words. Sure, I knew how the process was supposed to go. I’ve been living it a lovely long time now, but on this un-pretty day when there was just me and Him at the end of the day, I was stuck firmly at square 1. With my rambly mostly bumpy thoughts. Yep, that’s as far as I could get. There was a lot to think about and process. Family, medical people, a bishop, and the countless lives this priest touched and healed, embraced and loved. It was like chucking a filthy great rock into a small pool of water. The water erupted and the ripples and consequences spread out exponentially so that nothing and no one remained placid and undisturbed. All were ruffled and disquieted and those closest to the epicentre of this death can never be quite the same again.
Offering the broken hearts of these people was hard work and I am not confident I did it effectively or properly. There was bound to be someone that I overlooked and forgot, but ultimately God never forgets and sees all and knows all.
I then read the office, the psalms, the readings, the Lord’s prayer, the canticles, you know how it goes. As I closed the last book and put it aside it did not feel like the Holy Spirit had kindled anything much. My thoughts were still very random and helter-skelter; an incoherent and disorderly pile of dusty rubble. I was not up to the bit about thoughts becoming words and it is only through the compiling of this little homily that I was able to get to that point some days later.
At the time I was just up to the ‘thoughts’ bit. Not the words.
Was I a failure? Was my prayer only a C minus or 68 per cent? You always get a pass with prayer just for trying.
I think not and crave your patience as I reflect a little more. I reason thus.
Is not the struggle of a maelstrom of chaotic thoughts a valid form of prayer in and of itself? What if the Holy Spirit had come and kindled these thoughts, the fact that my incoherent babbling was offered, was that not an authentic and legitimate offering of prayer?
My thoughts had turned into words and my words would transform, maybe not straight away, maybe not in a cool, clinical, logical well thought form, beautifully structured with footnotes and illustrated with colour pictures and clever rhyming couplets.
My words would turn into deeds but it just may take a bit of time to know what the appropriate deeds might be so that they may be tinged and imbued with the Master’s love.
Love would be found in God’s way, in God’s actions, in God’s time. He’s the Saviour of the Universe.
Heaven would come to meet us, to meet my Colleague and perhaps my meandering mind. The grappling and the tangling is how the whole process scrunches along. This is what made the cogs turn and clunk. Perhaps on that first evening prayer when once again it was just me and Him, I was in fact surrounded by angels and archangels and we had already gone straight from thoughts to life everlasting without really knowing it. Perhaps it was a very pretty day after all and I could not see it at the time.
Now I offer you this little reflection because I know you to be enjoyable human beings and that means that you too will find yourself having an un-pretty day from time to time. Something in this interminable homily might be of some use but know above all that you are never alone in your un-pretty day. Know that the mere offering of helter-skelter thoughts and especially the traditional Fr. David shaking of the fist, is one of the finest forms of prayer and love that was somehow tragically overlooked and not inserted into our prayer book.
Perhaps also the prayer I started with might be helpful for you one day. There is no copyright and it would be a good way to wrap up this homily.
Come Holy Spirit kindle in our hearts the fire of your love,
Grant for our hallowing thoughts that pass into words,
words that pass into deeds, deeds that pass into love and
love that passes into life everlasting you our God.
Amen.