Pentecost Sunday – FIRST IMPRESSIONS

In a college philosophy class the topic of the day was, “What distinguishes us humans from animals? “One student’s answer, a familiar one, was that humans are toolmakers. That was the answer I once heard in a similar class when I was in college.  But a few weeks ago, I saw a documentary about chimps.  A chimp took a long straw-like stick, put it down an ant hill, and drew it out. It was covered with ants and the chimp began to eat.  To me, at least, it looked like the chimp had made a rather practical tool.

Someone else in the class said what distinguishes us from animals is the ability to laugh.  There is a “New Yorker” magazine cover that shows passengers stuffing luggage into overhead compartments on a plane.  One passenger was stuffing a car into the overhead!  See what I mean?  I don’t think a chimp would have gotten that.

I’ll leave it to the philosophers to draw their own conclusion about what distinguishes us humans from the rest of animal life.  But, besides the ability to laugh, I would add the ability to be wounded and to inflict wounds. Not just to inflict pain, but to cause inner wounds that stay long after the outer injury heals. We have memories of happiness and joyful moments.

But we can also carry memories of the wounds inflicted on us by others. Some of us have suffered physical violence. For others, words have been hurled at us; words which can be especially painful when they come from someone who once said to us, “I love you.”  Ask a divorce lawyer about what she has heard between two people who once said, “I love you” to each other.

The world has also done a number on us. It has taught us to compete and have a “must win” attitude in arguments, sports and work.  As Vince Lombardi said, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” That is a lesson that doesn’t have to be repeated for some, who have already heard it so often in their lives. What hurtful effects have such “teachings” had on us? How much has that attitude been part of our relationships and every day exchanges with others? And what are the resulting wounds?

The world has also taught us standards of beauty that affect the way we see others and how we see ourselves.  Our Dominican priory is at the edge of a university and I wonder how many of the students attending our daily Mass have eating disorders prompted by the message from media, families and friends about what constitutes the ideal weight? How has that wounded their self image?

Perhaps being human means we can laugh at a really good joke; but we also have something else in common, “We share the same tears.”  While laughter can draw us together over pizza and beer, our wounds can have us locked away behind a closed door all by ourselves.

The community in the gospel today knows its wounds.  For a while they were on cloud nine, riding high, because they were the closest companions to an exciting preacher and healer. He, they believed, might even be the King of Israel — finally, the messiah. But then they saw the wounds that defeated him and crushed their hopes and dreams — wounds that left them defeated too. There were other wounds too: the memory of their betrayal of the one they said they would follow to their death. Promises made and promises broken.

One thing they did remember; something Jesus did for them and taught them.  He formed a community around him and shared his vision with them.  So, the wounded, hurting individuals pulled themselves together enough to come back into the community — a fearful, locked-up community. But a community nevertheless!  It was into the community that the risen Christ comes with his words of forgiveness and healing.  “Shalom” “Peace be with you.”

In the gospels, when Jesus offers peace, it is not merely a casual greeting.  Not the 60’s hippie greeting, “Peace man!”  Christ’s word does what it says.  It’s a forgiving, healing, unifying and restoring word. The key for them is when he shows them his wounds. In this post-resurrection story he doesn’t ask for bread or fish. There is no eating to convince them — only the wounds.  And that is enough for them, and for us.

His wounds show us that God is with us all the way; not just visiting for a while to share a meal and a friendly chat. God with us all the way:  knows the death of loved one, experiences broken promises, and endures wounds that everyone said had put an end to him. They were wounds that were so defeating, but that he triumphed over. Today’s story shows us that Jesus did not forget his wounds and doesn’t forget ours either.
We gather here today, back into community.  We bring our hurting parts — not ours only, but the wounds of those we love.  Here too we bring the wounds of our wider world: think Syrian refugees, abducted Nigerian school girls, millions of AIDS-orphaned children in Africa, the drug-defeated and their grieving parents in our own land. We share in their wounds and shed the same tears.

It is comforting to know Jesus shared our lot.  But more than that — he breathes his Spirit into us.  Watch what happens next in our celebration today.  We will place our gifts on the altar.  They represent us. Watch as we invoke the Holy Spirit to come upon them and transform them. But also, we invite the same Spirit to breathe healing and forgiveness in us.  Healing because we have been wounded. Forgiveness because by our words and actions we have wounded others. We also ask for a new breath of forgiveness that will enable us, little by little, to let go and forgive others. “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them….”

A man in a parish where I preached in Massachusetts said, “I held a grudge against my brother and I thought by doing that I was justified because of what he did to me.  I felt I had power over him.  But I realized that not forgiving him was not only holding him bound, but holding me bound too. So, I made a retreat and on that retreat I forgave him in my heart. After I returned home I told him that and, at last, I felt freed. It is good to have my brother back again.”  “And whose sins you retain are retained.”

Now forgiveness didn’t happen just because that man gritted his teeth and resolved to do it.  Rather, it was just as the gospel today described.  First, Jesus came to where that man, with his wounds, had locked himself away.  Jesus said to him, “Peace be with you.”  Then he breathed on the locked-up man and gave him the same gift of the Holy Spirit the disciples received when Jesus came to the community-in-hiding.

It seems that to be a human is to suffer wounds and also be able to wound others.  Because of the risen Christ to be human also means to be healed of our wounds and to be able to extend that healing by forgiving others.