The Tattooed Heart
The sermon preached by Fr. Ernie on Sunday, December 4, 2022.
The Tattooed Heart
by Ernest Boyer
There are two things that always catch me off guard this time of year. At this point in my life you’d think that I’d be ready for them, but they never fail to surprise me. The first is how early stores begin to play Christmas music. It always starts sooner than I expect. This year I heard it first in Trader Joe’s the day after Thanksgiving. I found myself humming along to “Santa Clause is Coming to town” before it hit me.
“Christmas music?” I thought. “I’m still digesting my turkey.”
The other thing about this time of year that always catches me off guard is the tone of the Advent readings, especially when they quote John the Baptist. John’s words always feel jarring to me. There’s something about John shouting, “Repent…Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths,” that doesn’t quite fit with the “Jingle Bells,” or “Frosty the Snowman.” Worse still, is John’s reaction in today’s reading to the Pharisees and Sadducees who come to him for baptism. “You brood of vipers,” he sneers at them. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”
What do you want to bet that, as a child, John the Baptist was the one who always got picked to play Scrooge in the school Christmas play?
What’s important to remember is that John the Baptist’s message is not quite the same as Jesus’ was. John was there to prepare the way for Jesus. But John expected the man who was to follow him to come in anger. He expected him to condemn and to punish us. John didn’t anticipate what would really happen. It never occurred to him that the man who would follow him might come not in anger but in love. It never occurred to him that Jesus might come not to punish us but to embrace us, to bring us close to him.
That’s not to say that Jesus didn’t also come to challenge us. And yet consider this. It was the Pharisees and Sadducees — people who spent their time judging others, not helping them —who John called a “brood of vipers” but when those same people came to Jesus, his words to them were much less harsh. He said simply: “Harden not your hearts.”
Harden not your hearts.… That’s very different from John the Baptist’s bitter condemnation. It is in fact no condemnation at all. It’s an invitation. Behind it is the recognition that God’s love is alwayswith us. It’s there in the good times. It’s there in the bad times. It’s there when we’re weak and confused. It’s there when were strong and determined. All we have to do to know that this love is there, is to open up our hearts. Of course, the love is there whether we know it is or not, but once we know of it, we can allow the love to console us when we need consolation. We can allow it to guide us when we need guidance. And by opening ourselves to God’s love we open ourselves to love others too.
Why would anyone not want to know of this love? Faced with such a love, why would anyone choose to harden their hearts against it?
I think the main reason for this is fear. William Blake said: “We are put on earth for a [time] … that we might learn to bear the beams of love.” Think of it:…that we might learn to bear the beams of love…I find that so beautiful. And it’s right on target. The fact is, such a love can be pretty scary. Any love can be scary. It’s especially scary, though, to think that we might actually be worthy of a love as such as Jesus showed us. To be worthy of a love as great as this would mean that we ourselves must in some sense be great also. And to be great carries responsibility. It’s easier to think of ourselves as unworthy of such a love. It might even be easier to hear ourselves described as vipers.
You know, I’ve been re-reading a book by Fr. Greg Boyle. Fr. Greg is a Jesuit priest who for 35 years has been the Pastor in a parish in an area of LA known as “Gang Central.” He’s received many awards for his work with the kids in those gangs, including the California Peace Prize and the 2007 Most Caring Person Award. One of the things he did to help those kids, most of whom desperately want jobs where no jobs are available, is to start a business called Homeboy Industries. There’s now something called Homeboy Bakery, Homegirl Café, Homeboy Silkscreening, Homeboy/Homegirl Merchandizing, and Homeboy Maintenance. Fr. Greg tells some wonderful stores in his book, and they all have the same theme: harden not your hearts. They’re stories of young men and women who, against all odds, refuse to harden their hearts despite a very hard world all around them. They’re stories that invite us to follow their example.
One of the stories is of a young man who goes by the name of Sharkey. Sharkey was trying to find a way out of the gangs, and Fr. Greg had gotten him a job at Homeboy Bakery. Part of what Homeboy Industries does is teach basic job skills — skills such as showing up on time. Those who want to, catch on pretty quickly. Sharkey didn’t seem to want to. He’d either show up late or not show up at all. He’d seldom follow through with tasks, and when he did, it was without any apparent interest in what he was doing. It was as if he didn’t believe himself capable — or even worthy — of ever becoming someone others could rely on. It looked like Sharkey had already decided that he was going to fail and was just there to prove himself correct.
Exasperated to see a young man come so close, then choose to throw his life away, Fr. Greg had been riding him pretty hard recently. Nothing seemed to work. Then one day, after missing one shift entirely, Sharkey sauntered in hours late for the next shift. By this point, Fr. Greg had had just about enough. He was ready to really light into him, when suddenly he looked at him — I mean, really looked at him. What he saw was an awkward young man trying to cover himself with a mask of machismo the way a child might wear a hat that was too large for him so that it just kept falling off. Watching Sharkey shift awkwardly from foot to foot, Fr. Greg’s heart melted. He ended up saying something very different from what he had first intended.
“Hey, Sharkey,” he said. “Hey, man, I’m really glad to see you.”
Sharkey glanced at him. “What do you mean,” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m just glad to see you,” Fr. Greg said. “I mean it. I mean, I’m looking at you, man, and I’m thinking: ‘This young man is a real hero.’”
“Come on, Fr. G.” Sharkey said uneasily. “That’s not funny.”
“No joke, man,” the priest continued. “I’m completely serious. I mean, look at you. You want to change and you’re trying to change and your homies aren’t making it easy for you, are they. In fact, they’re giving you a real hard time, aren’t they? But you keep coming here. You keep showing up. I know what it takes to turn away from those guys in the Gang out there. They tell you that you’re a coward to come here, don’t they. Well, I want to tell you something. Coming here takes a courage that they don’t even understand. Coming here takes a courage that is so far beyond the so-called bravery you need to run with a posse in the barrio that it’s not even on the same planet. So, yeah, Sharkey, I just want you to know how much I admire you. You’re my hero, man. You are a … giant… among… men.
For a long time Sharkey just stared at him. Several times Fr. Greg saw him silently mouth the last words he had said to him. At last Sharkey repeated them aloud: “A giant among men,” he said softly. Then more loudly: “A giant among men.” He shook his head. “Wow. You know what I’m going to do, Fr. G,” he said. “I’m going to tattoo that on my heart.” This became the title of Greg Boyle’s book: Tattoos on the Heart. …What Sharkey didn’t realize was that, in accepting the possibility of his own worth, he had taken the first step in recognizing that he carried God’s tattoo already. Long before his mother had even conceived him, God had tattooed God’s love on his heart.
So… John the Baptist was partially right. There was someone coming after him. But that man wasn’t coming to judge us. He wasn’t coming to condemn us. He was coming to tell us that we are all God’s children. He was coming to love us. He was coming to tell us that each one of us is a hero… each one unique… each one precious. To see this, we need only to open our hearts, let go of our fear, and trust Jesus’ love for us enough to believe ourselves worthy to stand beside him.
In other words, we need to believe ourselves worthy… to accept the love… that God has tattooed… onto our hearts too. AMEN
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