What If?*

Monday of Week 27 in Ordinary Time

Mid-Morning Prayer - Cohort 14 - Aquinas Institute

Psalm 71

A Reading from St. Ambrose (Office of Readings)

Lord, open my lips

R/ And my mouth will proclaim your praise

I like to imagine that our relationship with words began

From the beginning

with the first ones ever to hit our ears

I like to imagine a new mother,

Exhausted after a long labor,

Whispering…“You are beautiful”

From the very beginning

Biblical imagery speaks IN and OF the creative power of words

Especially in the psalms and proverbs

Where we hear over and over

of the power of what is formed in the mouth

crafted by the tongue

and passes over the lips…to whatever ears may be listening

and half the time these biblical words give a stern warning…

Words cut both ways

St. Ambrose

Compels us to pray often

But…also warns

don’t let it get tedious

Let your words and prayer be imbued with forgiveness

It sounds like that might be his antidote for tedium.

Two thoughts about words have been occupying me this week

1) The conjuring power of Words

And

2) The mysterious power of words detached from the speaker’s  control

My husband always teases me about my favorite word

Every time we go to a restaurant and there is something on the menu

With Prosciutto

I have to order it

One reason is because I love the salty deliciousness

But the other is that I just want to say it

Prosciutto

Prosciutto

Prosciutto

It is such a fun word

The mouth and the tongue have to collaborate in its formation

And then the ticklish joy of how it rolls over my lips

But there is so much more.

When I was 23

freshly graduated from college

And waiting for my job to begin in Atlanta

I found myself with two weeks of free time

My sister and I desperately wanted to go to Italy

And we were both desperately broke

We hatched a plan

My Dad travelled so much for his work

That he had racked up a vault of Frequent Flyer Miles

So we would go to Dad and say

Dad, the last thing you’d want to do on your free time is get on another plane…right?

How bout we help take some of those FF miles off your hands

…in 1983 they were transferable;)

Of course he obliged…on one condition

“You must visit Corinaldo”

Corinaldo

Was this mythic place of origin for the Bavaria family

a small town in the region of Marche

Where both my grandparents were from

Corinaldo is the town of Santa Maria Goretti

Who, legend says, babysat for my Mommom

St. Maria held special prominence in our family’s collective Catholic imagination.

It was a deal.

Celeste and I rented a car and eventually drove from Rome to Corinaldo.

As we approached we saw the small medieval walled town

Atop this rolling hill

There was a lively welcome

Clearly Dad had given them advance notice

And my cousin Timo and his wife, Maria Paulo

Took us to their home where we would stay.

We crossed through the kitchen

And in the middle of their old wooden kitchen table

Was this large prosciutto

And stuck in the middle was a carving knife and fork

The prosciutto was there,

standing ready to meet the needs of tall who passed by

Day or night

So when I see or hear the word prosciutto

Not only do I think of salty deliciousness

But of Corinaldo

And ancient stone walls

I remember the grotto to Santa Maria Goretti

I remember cousins and family with whom I have no language in common

And it all becomes present again

A fresh gift of

nourishment, family, heritage, faith

when I hear the word Prosciutto

Or see it on a menu

What happens to me is

Anamnesis

The conjuring power of PROSCIUTTO!

My mother in law…I called her Mimi

Everyone called her Mimi

Was especially devoted to the Blessed Mother

Her own mother died when she was just a girl

And from then she took on an early motherly role

As she cared for her younger brother and father

She prayed the rosary every night

Since anyone could remember

How my father in law loved to tell the

Wedding Night Rosary Story;)

She died in 1993 from Supra-Nuclear Palsy

A degenerative neurological Disease

Most devastating for the slowness of its progression

The first thing to be affected was language

And speech

So, she might want to say banana

But it would come out as yogurt

Or bathroom and it would come out closet

But every night when Deedee

Pulled out their matching rosaries

And began the prayers

She followed

Without a hitch…not missing a word

I had seen her devotion to the Rosary as admirable

A wonderful pious habit that structured her life

I saw it that way

Until she lost control of her speech

Then, her prayer

Become something else entirely

Now I wondered

Who is speaking?

What is this testimony?

Where is it coming from?

Who is it for?

Could it be for me???

She was testifying to a life of prayer

NOT a perfect life

She was a tough lady

Controlling and difficult

But she WAS faithful

And as she prayed those last years

Those prayers were the only words that communicated

They came from her heart, her muscle, her spirit

From everywhere except her brain

Which

would have scrambled them all up

had it the chance

There is a mysterious life to words way after they leave the speaker.

Words are powerful

And they are most certainly a double-edged sword

They may reflect life or death

Or they may be safe and passionless and blah

For this preacher this is not just challenging

It is frightening!

But WHAT IF

What if our words of worship and praise and proclamation and preaching

What if all of our God-Talk

Came from our gut, and heart, and body….and mind?

WHAT IF

What if all that talk

All those words

conjured a palpable story deep within us?

WHAT IF

And what if that story is none other than our

simple story of falling in love with God

Our Exodus story

about how God

Reached out and took us by the hand

How God set us free…

A real love story,

not all sweetness and light

But a paschal story

urgent AND forgiving

A story that goes through crosses

And touches resurrection

A story made present in our preaching and living

Over and over again?

WHAT IF…