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To Learn the Language of Heaven

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) are the language of heaven. And we’re here to learn this language. This is a homily for the Solemnity of All Saints.

Yesterday, the prospective adopter of the last two kittens stopped by to visit with them. We had a bunch of cats here, trapped them, had them fixed, vaccinated, dewormed, etc., ready for adoption. And then two other abandoned cats—kittens—joined them. So these are the last two.

Well, she came into the room they were in, and they were sleeping in the sun. But as soon as they opened their eyes and saw her, they wanted to panic. They wanted—their eyes got big, and they wanted to jump and run away. But she kind of just soothingly said to me, “Talk to me.” And she’d look at them and close her eyes slowly and open them slowly, but continue talking to me.

And the cats calmed down, and their eyes started to close, and close some more. And she was talking, and look at them and close her eyes. And the way she held her body, and they closed their eyes and they fell back asleep. It was amazing. And then she went up to pet them. And I said, “How did you do that?” And she goes, “I speak their language.”

I think that is exactly what’s going on in today’s Gospel. We have this beginning of the Sermon of the Mount where Jesus says, “This is what his followers should be like. This is what they should do. This is what they should think.” And it begins with the Beatitudes. And this is the Gospel chosen for the Solemnity of All Saints.

And I say, this is the language saints speak. It may not be word language; it may be doing language. Like the adopter didn’t use any words, it was gestures of peacefulness and love and warmth. And the cats responded. And that’s what I think the Beatitudes are: peacefulness and humanity and warmth.

And so this is the language of heaven, and this is why I think we’re here, is to learn the language of heaven. To be poor in spirit means not to be controlled by stuff, to comfort the mourners, and to be humble, to be meek, not always putting myself first, to hunger and thirst for righteousness, for justice, for fairness.

That’s the language of heaven: to be merciful, to be purified or dedicated heart, to be peacemakers, and to be persecuted even for the sake of righteousness, standing up for the right. This is the language we’re here to learn. This is the language of the saints.

It’s like when you go to a foreign country, if you don’t speak the language, it’s going to be a lot harder. If we don’t speak the language of heaven, it’s going to be a lot harder. But it’s—if we can learn to be merciful. The world: “no, no mercy.” The world: “no peace.” The world: “always it’s me first.” The world: “no meekness, no humility.” The world: “look out for number one.” It’s not the language of saints.

So it’s like going to a foreign country and speaking the language. We fit right in. We move right in. We walk securely and peaceably. Are we worried about this? I don’t think so. Saint Teresa of Avila says—it’s a great line—“Do not let your sins cause you to despair, for God can make saints out of the greatest sinners.” All God is doing is teaching us how to speak the language of heaven. Happy All Saints Day!

Saint Teresa of Avila
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Both Parts Needed

A homily for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle A) on Matthew 22:34-40 on the “Greatest Commandment”

Both Parts Needed

As Religious Education classes let out, the youngsters came and said, “We have a question, Father Greg.” And youngsters never ask the priest a question. So, sure, shoot.

And they said, “In the greatest commandment, (which is today’s gospel, by the way, you should love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, mind, and body, and you shall love your neighbor as yourself) which is more important, Father Greg? The first part or the second part?”

And I thought about it a moment and I said, “Probably the second part, because we have to deal with each other every day, where God is in heaven, God is away, God is invisible. It’s how we deal with each other that’s important. Besides, in Romans, Paul, Saint Paul in Romans, only mentions the second part.”

So I said, “The answer, the more important, is the second part: Love your neighbor as yourself.” And they looked at me and said, “You’re wrong. Our teacher says it’s the first part.” And they all ran off.

And so after I’ve been thinking about it a while, I think Saint John of the Cross and Jesus have the right answer. It’s both parts.

Saint John of the Cross says, “Uh, who of us can really love God with all our strength, all our mind, all our soul, our body, our strength, all of it? None of us. We’re incapable of that. We all fall short. And then who of us can love our neighbor as ourselves? We all fall short. And yet it’s the commandment.”

So, he says they play off of each other. It’s in the love of neighbor that our love of God grows. And in the love of God, our love of neighbor grows. It’s like a spiral. I love my neighbor a bit more, and that allows me to love God a bit more, which allows me to love my neighbor a bit more, and that allows me to love God a bit more.

It spirals closer and closer to the fullness of loving God and the fullness of loving neighbor. We approach it. I don’t think in this life we can ever get there. Even though it’s a commandment, we can’t get there.

But John of the Cross, I think, gives us the best schema for doing this, to approach, to grow. And I think, adding to John of the Cross, the higher we get in this, the more Christ-like we are, the more divine we are. This greatest commandment is the commandment that brings us to heaven.

Saint John of the Cross