Memorial of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Priest

 Lectionary: 405

Jesus came to his native place and taught the people in their synagogue.
They were astonished and said,
“Where did this man get such wisdom and mighty deeds?
Is he not the carpenter’s son?
Is not his mother named Mary....

Surely, by now, every American has visited Thornton Wilder's Our Town, and admitted that we habitually overlook the most wonderful gifts. Because they're wrapped in ubiquity, and not one of these gifts could not be better, nicer, and more nearly perfect, we simply don't see their blessedness. And then one day they're irretrievably gone and we grieve because they left an emptiness where we had never noticed their wonderful fullness. 

Our Town describes Emily Webb's one day visit to her former life in Grover's Corners, New Hampshire. The young woman died while giving birth, and from her grave she has been granted a brief moment to relive her twelfth birthday. But even on that ceremonial day, her parents, friends, and neighbors cannot see anything special in her being young, alive, and beautiful. They cannot see the tween who is about to burst into womanhood because, to paraphrase the Lord's remarks, worldly anxiety and the lure of riches choke the word and it bears no fruit.

In today's gospel, the Lord himself has returned to his hometown and, like Emily Webb, his old friends, family, and neighbors can see no one but the carpenter's son. Christians might feel pretty smart as they think they know who the Lord is. But many of them are sorely distracted by a different set of thorns and thistles: when they hear this passage. They hesitate, worry, and speculate about James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas and  his sisters. 

Thornton's Emily is helpless; she cannot open the eyes of her loved ones. Wonder and awe often arouse the same helplessness in us, and perhaps that's why we'd rather not see what Emily sees; and will not permit the Lord to reveal himself. "We know who you are!" we say before he's even entered our life. 

Faith is more than awe and wonder. To see what the Lord would show us, we must practice being amazed. We say "thank you" for every small blessing and recognize ordinary acts of kindness. In prayer, we pay attention to the words and phrases, recalling the memories they bear. We notice the goodness of food, the satisfaction of breathing, and the reliability of our heartbeat. We realize that we will pass into eternity just as our forebears have. 

The elderly notice that they're not as strong as they used to be; and say, "It was good while it lasted." But  neither are they as foolish as they used to be; for which they give thanks. 

Postup notes on mirrors and telephones may help for a while, as do signs, posters, and tattoos. Deliberate, intentional habits of daily prayer -- marking feastdays, solemnities, and ordinary time -- can help a lot. 

And with those habits we beg the Lord to deliver us out of this endless series of dark nights of the soul, into his Eternal Light and Life.