[Editor’s note: The author preaches in a setting in which the Ascension is transferred from Thursday, therefore the following rule applies: When the Ascension of the Lord is celebrated the following Sunday, the second reading and Gospel from the Seventh Sunday of Easter may be read on the Sixth Sunday of Easter.]
If you ever took a writing class,
or studied American literature
you were probably exposed to the prose of Ernest Hemingway.
One of the greatest figures of 20th century literature
his writing style rejected the popular trends of the day
with authors piling one adjective on top of the other
adverbs tripping over each other
and sentences clogged with colons and semicolons.
Instead, probably because he had learned his trade as a reporter,
his prose was lean, unadorned and direct
with very few modifiers
scattered through short, muscular sentences.
This approach was already on full display in his first novel
The Sun Also Rises,
a semi-autobiographical work
that treated some of his favorite themes, such as
love and death, guts and masculinity.
In one of the book’s most riveting scenes,
all those themes are brought together
in the young bullfighter Pedro Romero’s dance with death.
In that passage as well, Hemingway gives us an enduring image
of his definition of guts as “grace under pressure.”[1]
Today’s Gospel of John comes to us somewhat unexpectedly
as it is actually assigned to next Sunday
but because Ascension is transferred there from Thursday
it gets bumped into our laps today.
The Johannine writer is not what you could classify
as Hemmingwayesque in virtually any way.
Consider, for example, that today’s six verses
Are just a sliver of his Last Supper discourse
That spans 5 of the gospel’s 21 chapters
And ranges over 155 verses.
Not exactly Hemingway’s punchy style.
Then there is all the metaphorical language, the poetic illusions
a soaring style that earned the Johannine writer
the emblem not of an ox or a lion but that of an eagle.
John writes with feet family planted in midair
While Ernest has them firmly planted on mother earth.
There is one aspect of this gospel passage, however,
That does find resonance
with the proverbial Old Man “of” the Sea
and that is the display of grace under pressure
of unadulterated guts
that Jesus exhibits in the closing moments
of his last will and testament.
Remember, Jesus’ instruction occurs while his betrayal is underway
hours before his arrest, scourging, show trials,
and public execution as a criminal of the state.
And in that context does Jesus whine?
Complain about life being unfair?
Denigrate his political opponents?
Blame his fate on his homelife and upbringing?
Shame God for abandoning him?
No … not even close … instead he prays
but not only for his inner circle
or card-carrying members of the Jesus organization
not for those willing to make a deal
or eager to join him in the
“Make Judaism Great Again” movement.
Instead, he prays for the whole of humanity
for a world that, then as now,
was beset with relentless violence and oppression
bullying and exclusion
discrimination and injustice.
And he prays that we might be one.
Impossible … delusional,
maybe the result of all those Passover cups of wine.
Although Hemmingway was a voracious reader
and had a good working knowledge of French
There is no evidence that he ever read the 1943 publication
Le Petit Prince – the Little Prince
Though I think he would have liked it.
Even though the writing of Saint-Exupery does not indulge
in Hemingway’s penchant for violence
or his sometimes toxic masculinity
it does deal with fundamental human dilemmas such as
crises of identity and relationality
dilemmas explored literally on a cosmic level.
While the little prince does not enter a bull ring
to engage in the matador’s dance of death
He does engage in the dangerous dance of taming
Not with a bull .. but with a formidably wise fox.
You might remember when the little prince meets the fox
the prince, who is lonely and unhappy
asks the fox to play with him … but the fox cannot
because he is not tame –
when the prince asks the meaning of taming – the fox says:
“It is an act too often neglected … It means to establish ties…. “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…. It will be as if the sun came to shine on my life …. One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox …. “if you want a friend, tame me.”
I think the Johannine Jesus in today’s gospel
reveals other-worldly grace under pressure
maybe even what Hemingway might consider gospel guts
because for three years he had been engaged
in the taming dance with followers and disciples
supporters and critics
and in the process not only were some of them tamed
Magdalene and Lazarus
Peter and the sons of thunder
But I believe, in the process, that Jesus himself was tamed as well.
He was tamed by Samaritan widows
and the kid with the loaves and fishes;
by the widow of Naim and the lepers in the borderland;
fishermen and adulterers
tax collectors and centurions
But first by family and friends
Adolescent parents and a clan of cousins.
In a word, Jesus was tamed by the humanity he assumed
which is why he could call us friends not slaves,
why he could stand firm embracing the world
when the same world was about to crash in on him,
why he could be tamed unto death,
so that we too might break out of our own silos
our own tribes, our own prejudices
to pray and work together,
so that all might be one.
I have been pondering both this gospel
and the wisdom of the fox in the little prince
in preparing to celebrate this 50th anniversary
of my presbyteral ordination.
Thinking back on inexplicable privilege
I relish parents who tamed me
A mother in her piety and grace
Who always prayed for unity in home and world;
A father who reminded me the day I was ordained
That there was only one father in our family
And it wasn’t me.
A cloud of relatives who mentored and nurtured me
Grandparents and God parents
And the cousins who were my first and finest peers.
Then there is the new matriarch who lets me live with her
and cut her lawn.
My baby brother Terrence Patrick Kevin,
the most Irish of us all.
I revel in the Capuchin community in this 59th year
of my journeying with the boys in brown.
Gratitude floods so many memories of
congregations and assemblies
classmates and students
mentors and guides
from Minnesota to Paris
from Hyde Park to Oak Park
Who have tutored me in the art of taming
And lavished undeserved friendship upon me.
But especially in this place
My heart brims with gratitude
to the community of Old St. Pat’s
which has invited me into this bastion of care and prayer
Over the past 18 years.
You have tamed me with your welcome and engagement
with invitations to preside at your weddings
Baptize your children
Anoint your sick and bury your dead.
But most of all, from Sunday to Sunday,
You tame me with your full-throated responsiveness in prayer
and thundering engagement in song,
your spontaneous affirmation of
the anniversaries and achievements among us,
your volunteerism in worship and in works of justice
your radical inclusivity and shocking hospitality.
In your thoughtful presence and remarkable participation
each time I am here you invite me to be my best self
Something I would guess you do also do to each other
As together we are tamed by God’s untamable spirit
To embody the priestly prayer of the only begotten
And continue his work, that all may be one.
And as the poet writes, who can say if you or I
Have been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better
And because I know you
Because I serve you, because I love you,
I have been tamed for good
As I pray you have been as well
Through Christ our Lord.
[1] Letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway: Selected Letters 1917-1961, ed. Carlos Baker (New York: Scribner, 1981), 200.