Month: February 2025

The Power of Words

(Ecc.:27:4-7; 1Cor.15:54-58; Lk.6:39-45)

‘Sticks and stones,’ they say, ‘may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.’ Is that true? Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, an army of frogs was hopping through the woods, when suddenly two of them fell into a muddy pit. The other frogs looked into that pit and said it’s much too deep. They can’t escape.

The two frogs ignored these com­ments and tried hard to jump up out. But the other frogs kept telling them: ‘Give up! You’ve got no hope!’

Finally, one of the two frogs listened to the other frogs’ words and did give up. He fell down and died.

But the other frog kept jumping as hard as he could. The crowd at the top however kept yelling at him to stop. ‘You can’t get out!’ they said. But he kept jumping even harder until he finally escaped.  And as he got out, the other frogs asked, ‘Didn’t you hear us?’

The frog replied that he’d had mud in his ears and couldn’t hear them. ‘I thought you were encour­ag­ing me,’ he said.

This story tells us that words are powerful. They can help and heal. But they can also hurt and harm. What we say can so easily build someone up, or tear them down.

When we speak, people not only hear the sounds we make, but they can also feel our attitudes and sense our deepest meanings. 

Why are words so powerful? It’s because they flow from our hearts (Lk.6:45). Whether written or spoken, our words reflect who we really are. They reveal our character, our innermost thoughts. They expose what’s deep inside us and they unveil what we really think about the world and the people around us. 

Rudyard Kipling once described words as, ‘…the most powerful drug used by mankind. Not only do (words) infect, egotise, narcotise, and paralyse, but they enter into and colour the minutest cells of the brain…’ [i]

Yes, words are powerful. They create and shape everything, even the universe.  As John’s Gospel tells us, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…’ (Jn.1:1).  Everything around us began with God’s divine Word, and today our world is shaped by the words we use.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus offers us three brief parables. Firstly, he asks if the blind can lead the blind.  Then he warns us about noticing a splinter in someone else’s eye, while overlooking the log in our own. And finally he says that a healthy tree cannot produce rotten fruit.

Together, these three parables remind us that if we are teaching or leading others, then we must choose our words very carefully and make sure that we know what we’re talking about. It’s so easy to harm people. It’s so easy to lead them astray if we ourselves are misled.

Our first reading today says something similar. It tells us that just as the rubbish is left behind when we shake a sieve, so our faults become obvious when we speak. And just as a fiery kiln tests the work of a potter, so our conversation is the test of our own personal quality and purity.

But the point is that all this starts with our hearts. For our words to be good, our hearts need to be well-formed.

As children we learn from our parents and teachers, and hopefully they’re wise. And as adults we keep learning, but ultimately we all need God’s guidance because only he offers us the way, the truth and the life (Jn.14:6).

As Jesus says, we draw what’s good from the goodness in our hearts, and we draw what’s bad from the badness we store there as well. Like the water in a well, we must make sure that it’s always pure and fresh and life-giving, both for ourselves and for others (Jn.4:14).

Most people speak thousands of words every day. That gives us plenty of scope to help or to hurt others, for words aren’t just sounds. They are powerful symbols of life, of culture, of everything we think and feel. They express our lives, our souls, our dreams and our fears.

Mother Teresa once said that kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.

The same can be said of unkind words.

Yes, sticks and stones may break my bones, but cruel and thoughtless words can be far more damaging.

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[i] http://www.telelib.com/authors/K/KiplingRudyard/prose/BookOfWords/surgeonssoul.html

The Parable of the Three Questions

(1Sam.26:2,7-9,12-13,22-23; 1Cor.15:45-49; Lk.6:27-38)

Today, Jesus tells us to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us. But how might we actually approach this? Leo Tolstoy helps us to understand in his famous Parable of the Three Questions.

There was once a king who wanted to know how to always make good decisions. He decided that if he could answer three questions, he’d always know the right thing to do: When is the right time to do something? Who is the most important person to listen to? And what is the one thing I should always do?

He offered a reward for the best answers, but received no useful replies.

Then the king heard of a wise and holy hermit who lived on a mountain and would only see the poor. So, he disguised himself as a peasant and went to ask him his three questions.

Leaving his soldiers below, he climbed the mountain and arrived hot and thirsty. The old hermit was working in his garden. He bowed silently to the disguised king, and kept on working.

Feeling awkward, the king said, ‘I’ve heard you are wise and understanding. I hope you can help me with three questions: When is the right time to do something? Who is the most important person to listen to? And what is the one thing I should always do?

The hermit looked at him silently and kept on digging. After a while, the king took the shovel, saying, ‘Let me do that. You are tired.’ He repeated his questions, but again there was no answer.

The sun was hot and the hermit offered to resume digging, but the king kept working. At sunset, the king wiped the sweat from his brow and said, ‘I came to see if you could answer my three questions. I struggle with them all the time. Can you help me? If not, I’ll just return home.’

Just then, startled by a noise, the hermit asked, ‘Did you hear that? I think it’s someone running.’ A man emerged from the woods, running towards them. He was badly wounded, and fell in front of the king.

The king ripped off his shirt and tried to stop the bleeding, but the wound was deep. There was a spring nearby. The king ran to it, washed the shirt, and returned to press it against the wound. He did this three times, and the bleeding stopped. The man asked for a drink. The king went to the spring, and brought back some water.

It was dark, and the old hermit and king carried the wounded man into the hut where they all slept well. When the sun rose, the king woke to find the wounded man looking at him intently. ‘Forgive me,’ the wounded man said.

‘Why should I forgive you?’ the king asked.

‘I’m your sworn enemy,’ he replied. ‘I planned to kill you. You killed my brother years ago and took his property. I’ve hated you ever since. When I heard you were coming here, I intended to ambush you, but when you didn’t come down the path yesterday, I came out of hiding. One of your soldiers down the hill recognised me and wounded me. I was escaping when I ran into you. You saved my life! Please, forgive me. I’m ashamed and grateful to you. From now on, I promise to serve you faithfully.’

The king was stunned. He offered to compensate the man for his suffering, and said he didn’t want his service, only his friendship and trust. He promised that his doctor would take care of him, and they left the mountain together.

The king later returned to the hermit and said, ‘Old man, please answer my three questions.’

‘Your questions have all been answered,’ he replied. But the king was puzzled.

‘Look,’ said the hermit, ‘yesterday when you asked your questions and I didn’t answer, you took pity on me because I was old. Instead of leaving the mountain and being killed by your enemy, you helped me dig my garden. So, the right time was when you were helping me, because you had pity on me, and I was supposed to be the person to remember and work with, and the one thing you should always do is have compassion.

‘Later, you took care of the wounded man. He didn’t die and you were reconciled with an enemy and found a grateful friend. It was the right time to help him, he was the one to attend to and what you had was compassion.

The king still didn’t seem to understand, but then it hit him.

‘Oh, the right time is now, for it’s the only time I can control. The person is whoever is right in front of me, and the one thing I should always do is to tend to their needs, doing whatever I can.

The old hermit smiled, ‘Yes, if you bend in appreciation towards whatever is before you, you will always know what to do.’ [i]

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[i] Leo Tolstoy, The Parable of the Three Troubling Questions, quoted in Megan McKenna, Luke – The Book of Blessings and Woes. New City Press, New York, 2009: 194-199. (Abridged).

The Road Less Travelled

 (Jer.17:5-8; 1Cor.15:12, 16-20; Lk.6:17, 20-26)

In Lewis Carroll’s story Alice in Wonderland, Alice comes to a fork in the road and is puzzled. She asks the Cheshire Cat, ‘which way should I go?’

‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ he says.

Alice says she doesn’t much care where she goes, so the Cat replies: ‘Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.’

Today, our world is a confusion of roads going in countless directions. Some clever people have invented GPS to help us get around, but where should you go when you reach a fork in the road of life?

In today’s first reading, the prophet Jeremiah says that there are basically only two roads in life, and they go in opposite directions. One crosses a salty desert towards death, and the other follows a refreshing stream towards life.

Which one is which? Jeremiah says the wrong way is when we put our trust in man and the things of the flesh, for that’s when we’ll end up like dry scrub in a wasteland.

But the person who puts his faith in God will be blessed like a tree that flourishes, even in heat and drought.

Now, Jeremiah doesn’t say that those who trust in God will escape the heat and drought. Rather, he says that they will stay fruitful and green despite these trials.

In other words, when you turn to God in deep faith and prayer, you’ll find yourself blessed with the strength you need to keep going, even in hard times.

Psalm 1 today says something very similar. Happy is the person who chooses God’s law of love, and avoids the way of sin and scorn. For he will be like a fruitful tree near fresh waters. But those who choose the way of the wicked will be like winnowed chaff, blown towards their doom.

Essentially, then, there are only two roads in our journey through life, and Jesus talks about them in his Sermon on the Plain in Luke’s Gospel today.

He’s speaking to a large crowd near the Sea of Galilee, and he says that God’s first priority is the poor and hungry, and those who weep and suffer from hate. Those who follow the way of God will be blessed, he says, for one day they will inherit his kingdom.

But those who choose the way of the world, those whose lives are all about selfish indulgence, will be left behind. ‘Woe to you rich,’ Jesus says, ‘woe to you who have your fill, woe to you who laugh, and woe to you when the world loves you.’

Here, Jesus is giving us a radical choice: we can either take the high road and live by the values of God’s kingdom (in a spirit of poverty, compassion and mercy), or we can take the low road and live by the values of this world (pursuing money, pleasure, power and prestige).

Only one of these roads leads to eternal life, and sadly, that’s the one least travelled. Robert Frost writes about this in his poem The Road Not Taken:

‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.’

Why is this road less travelled? It’s because too many people have been seduced by the hollow promises of the material life. It’s because our world has taught us to seek immediate comfort and satisfaction, instead of seeking lasting joy in heaven. And it’s because our obsession with physical things has blinded us to the spiritual.

The Cheshire Cat is right. It doesn’t matter which way you go if you don’t care where you’re going.

But if you do care, if you are serious about eternal life, then there’s only one road that will take you there, and you need to choose.

Let’s close with some verses from Choose this Day, by an anonymous poet.

Choose this day whom you will serve,
The world, with its fleeting way?
Or Christ, who calls with a gentle voice,
And offers eternal day?

Choose this day whom you will trust,
The treasures that fade and decay?
Or the Rock that stands through storm and flood,
And guides in the narrow way?

Choose this day, for time is brief,
And the soul is a gift to keep.
One path leads to life and peace,
The other to sorrow deep.

The Conversion of Gary Sinise

(Is.6:1-8; 1Cor.15:1-11; Lk.5:1-11)

We often think of Christian conversion as a quick, one-off event. But for so many people, like the Hollywood actor Gary Sinise, conversion tends to be a slow process.

Gary was born in Chicago in 1955, into an unchurched family with a long history of military service. At school he was quite rebellious and much preferred music to his classes, but then he discovered acting, through which he met Moira Harris. They married in 1981 and had 3 children.

In 1994, Gary acted as Lieutenant Dan Taylor in the movie Forrest Gump. Like the actor himself, Lt. Dan came from a family of war heroes. He’s sent to Vietnam where he loses both legs in an ambush. He survives, but becomes very bitter about being robbed of martyrdom.

Lt. Dan later finds himself on a shrimp boat in Alabama, battling a terrible storm and facing his demons. Again, he survives, but this time he becomes a new man, at peace with God. He has a new wife, new prosthetic legs and new hope.

Shortly after Forrest Gump was released in 1994, Gary Sinise was invited to attend the Disabled American Veterans’ convention in Chicago, to receive an award for so honestly portraying a catastrophically injured veteran. [i]

In his autobiography, Grateful American, he says he was stunned by the welcome he received from 2,500 veterans – ‘a sea of men and women, many with scars, prosthetics, burn marks, crutches, and wheelchairs.’

‘What have I ever done?’ he wondered. ‘Here are all these wounded and disabled veterans – men and women who have sacrificed so much.’ And all he’s done is find his mark and say his lines.

Then he realised: Lt. Dan had come to symbolise the country’s injured veterans, who too often had been cruelly ignored, insulted and even assaulted by others. And he wondered how he could help.

He started supporting veterans and first responders, including paramedics and firefighters, through fundraising and public speaking. And his Lt. Dan Band began performing for charitable causes.

In the meantime, Gary’s family struggled; his wife Moira had become a chronic alcoholic. One day, at an AA meeting, someone said to her, ‘You need to become a Catholic. You need to convert.’

The effect was powerful, because in 2000 she did just that. Moira became a Catholic. She also decided to send their children to a Catholic school, but Gary resisted. He couldn’t see the point.

Eventually, however, he agreed. They started attending Mass together, and Gary began noticing the Church’s positive influence on his family.

On 9/11 in 2001, when thousands died at the World Trade Centre, Gary was devastated. At a memorial Mass that Friday, he heard that service to others is a great healer of broken hearts, and he felt compelled to do something.

He started visiting hospitals and war zones, entertaining on military bases, and raising funds for children in Iraqi schools.

He found that the more active he got, the more his own broken heart was relieved. And he began to wonder if God had given him a life mission.

In 2010 he surprised his family by joining the Catholic Church, and in 2011 he formalised his many projects by establishing the Gary Sinise Foundation.

In today’s Gospel, Luke tells the conversion story of the apostle Peter, and it spells out the stages we all tend to go through as we gradually turn towards Jesus.

It begins by simply observing what’s happening from a distance. Then it involves listening to what’s being said, and allowing it to move our hearts. Next, it involves accepting small commitments within our comfort zone, helping where we can.

Then we’re amazed when the call becomes specific and deeply personal, and something powerful happens inside us. And we start to feel unworthy, perhaps even scared. But then we’re reassured. And finally, that’s followed by acceptance and a deep, personal commitment to Jesus.

These are the steps we all typically experience in entering the life of Christ, and they certainly applied to Gary Sinise.

How do they apply in your own spiritual journey?

In closing, here’s a passage from the book Jesus Calling that Gary likes to quote. It reflects how God works through us to bless others. [ii]

I am creating something new in you: a bubbling spring of Joy that spills over into others’ lives. Do not mistake this Joy for your own or try to take credit for it… Instead, watch in delight as My Spirit flows through you to bless others. Let yourself become a reservoir of the Spirit’s fruit.

Your part is to live close to Me, open to all that I am doing in you. Don’t try to control the streaming of My Spirit through you. Just keep focusing on Me as we walk through this day together. Enjoy My Presence, which permeates you with Love, Joy, and Peace.

Amen.

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[i] Gary Sinise, Grateful American: A Journey from Self to Service, Thomas Nelson, Nashville TN, 2019. https://faithgateway.com/products/grateful-american-a-journey-from-self-to-service?variant=39265150566536

[ii] Sarah Young, Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence, Thomas Nelson, Nashville TN, 2004.