Shame

Today's 5:30 homily

There was a massive tree – sort of a treasured landmark – where students had met for decades. No one could even imagine the college campus without the mighty oak that spread its giant limbs for all to enjoy. It seemed to be a perpetual part of the landscape until one day with an enormous nerve-jolting CRACK, the mighty giant crashed to the ground.  

Once down, all who grieved its passing could see what no one had bothered to notice over the years. A downward spiral of internal erosion, month by month, season after season, had been taking place. Just because it was silent and slow didn’t mean it was not dying. The seemingly eternal, mighty oak tree was hollow from years of decay. All that was seen by passersby was simply a shell of an oak tree.

What was true of the mighty oak tree can also be said for people. Ever so slightly, invisible moral and ethical decay can invade, beginning the stages of a terminal disease. One cause of that disease and ethical decay is our inability or refusal to feel shame.

Our readings and Gospel are about shame. The first reading says: “Let us condemn him to a shameful death; for according to his own words, God will take care of him.” According to this Book of Wisdom reading, it was the wicked that caused this shameful death of some just person. And, no, Wisdom is not referring to Jesus. The author(s) of Wisdom was looking for answers to the age-old questions we all ask: “How is it that the wicked and godless prosper, but the just man suffers?  How and where does God give out or distribute justice?” Those are very big and important questions, but for another day.

However, there is a question each of us can answer right now. Have we ever done anything shameful for which we should be condemned? Not condemned to death but condemned in the eyes of others for what we have done or said. First, let’s define shame. For those of us who have watched the long-running TV show “Shameless,” we probably have a good idea of its meaning.  

For those of us who may have forgotten the definition – and that applies to many of us based on our behavior – shame is defined as a feeling of embarrassment or humiliation because we have done something dishonorable, immoral, or improper. Shame should prompt us to apologize and acknowledge our wrong-doing. Many of us do not, especially on social media.

Most know the expression “walk of shame” when we are caught in the act and have to walk by those watching us and knowing we did something dishonorable, immoral, or improper.    

Unfortunately, many of us subscribe to the idea of moral relativity meaning truth and moral values are not absolute but are relative to the persons or groups holding them. There is no feeling of shame. Moral judgments are no more than statements of personal feeling. Saying something is good or that such and such an act is right, means no more than, “I approve of this.” That is dangerous thinking for religious faith and certainly for our Church, our society and democracy.

Are the wicked really responsible for our shame? No, that responsibility rests on our own shoulders. We do or say shameful things. Our choice. The wicked don’t put us to the test.  We wicked ones put ourselves to the test. Shame on us who claim to be Catholics following Jesus and his commandments, but we don’t!  

In our second reading from James, the author shames us and condemns us by identifying our moral failings and our dishonorable actions. He correctly concludes that our wars and conflicts come from our passions; that we covet what we do not possess; that we kill and envy that which we cannot obtain; and that we spend time and money on our passions.  James says we should cultivate peace and be sincere, gentle, full of mercy and bear good fruits. If we don’t do these things, we should be ashamed, so says James and so says Jesus.

Jesus speaks of shame in the Gospel. In fact, he shamed his arguing disciples who must have felt shamefaced. The Gospel reads: “They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they remained silent. They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” 

Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.”

Many of us insist on being first such as first in line or being in front of others in the grocery store or buying a ticket at the movies. Into those long lines we’ll even chat and cut – an expression made popular by Larry David on his show “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and in the sitcom “Seinfeld.” Insisting on being first at the expense of others smacks of assumed privilege and prestige, and when cutting in, simply arrogance and shameful behavior.

Why did Jesus place a child in his midst?  Children had no status in the ancient world of Jesus; they were considered nobodies. That’s the point. Jesus told his disciples that to receive someone as a child means to accept and serve those who count for nothing in the eyes of the world – those who are the neediest and who cannot repay what is done for them.  

Jesus identified himself with the unimportant people of this world.  In serving Jesus through our serving the insignificant, we serve God.  By serving nobodies we become somebodies in the eyes of God. Here at CTK there are many somebodies, such as those who serve at the Food Pantry, Pastoral Care to the Sick and Homebound, and in other ministries. The way to become great lies in service.  

There are all kinds of Catholics here at CTK. But the vast majority of us are copper-kettle Catholics who serve in important ways, and here is what I mean. A woman in Bible study related that when she recently went into her basement, she made an interesting discovery. Some potatoes had sprouted in the darkest corner of the room. At first, she couldn’t figure out how they had received enough light grow. 

Then she noticed that she had hung a copper kettle from a rafter near a cellar window. She kept it so brightly polished that it reflected the rays of the sun onto the potatoes. She said, “When I saw that reflection, I thought I may not be a preacher or a teacher with the ability to expound upon Scripture, but at least I can be a copper-kettle Catholic, catching the rays of the Son and reflecting his light to someone in a dark corner.”

We somebodies here at CTK shine a lot of light into dark corners, and there are many hurting, lonely, desperate, and despondent people in dark corners. So, let’s keep polishing our kettles; catching the rays of the Son; and brightly shining through kindness, love, tolerance, gentleness, mercy and bearing good fruits. To do otherwise would be a real shame. We must never be once mighty oaks. 

Deacon David Pierce