When I go to a funeral, I look forward to the photographs and the eulogy. No matter how well I knew the deceased, I always learn something.
How fun to discover that my insurance agent’s passion was motorcycles or that my frail neighbor was a softball champ. It also gives me pleasure if I can share a story with the bereaved that maybe they didn’t know.
These exchanges remind me of that Indian fable about the blind men and the elephant. Each man grabs a different part of the elephant and is convinced he knows exactly how the creature looks. The one holding the trunk says an elephant is like a snake. The one holding an ear says, “No, it’s like a fan.” They squabble over who is right instead of pooling their information and discovering just how amazing an elephant really is.
I believe one of the joys of Heaven will be listening to everyone’s story. No matter how long we live, how hard we study or how devoutly we pray, we each get just the tiniest glimpse of what God is like. In Heaven, though, we’ll learn how everyone else experienced the Lord. In fact, I suspect that we will listen to human stories for a long time before we actually see God face to face. Our minds and souls will need considerable stretching first, or they might explode with wonder.
That stretching process begins in the church. We don’t rely on just our own experience to develop a moral code or a spiritual discipline. We have the wisdom of all the other believers alive today and all who came before us. We’ve got brilliant theologians, profound mystics and fiery prophets all sharing their insights about our one Lord.
This rich inheritance helps us keep our spiritual balance. It reminds the Marthas among us that good works are no substitute for spending time with the Lord. It cautions the Marys that they must also give practical assistance to the poor and needy.
The church’s role as teacher is not always welcome. It’s hard for us to acknowledge that much of our thinking is formed by our culture, not our faith. For example, most of us accept Church teaching on abortion but differ from her on artificial contraception. We love Pope Francis’ humility but are less moved by his call to increase our charitable giving. The teachings we like least are probably the ones we most need to hear.
The church is a family, and, as in any family, some members are more likeable than others. Yet each has something to share if we take the time to listen. That widow who talks endlessly about her late husband reminds us of others who are grieving more quietly. The sacristan who is so picky about cleansing the chalice reminds us of the miracle that cup contained.
We Catholics (we Christians, we human beings) are not meant to live alone. It takes a village to raise a child. It takes a church to develop a Christian. We need advice. What do I do when my teenager won’t come to Mass? We need encouragement. You are a terrific lector! We need examples. Please God, help me age as patiently and cheerfully as Mrs. Vierra. We need support. Please pray for my husband, my child, my operation.
We are shaped by the company we keep. That’s an unchangeable law of human nature. The more we pray together, eat together, laugh and weep together, the closer we draw to one another and to our God. And, oh, the stories we hear!
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo, HI 96720, or e-mail: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
