This past week, I had the opportunity to sit in on one of. the theology classes at Cardinal Ritter. Being the chaplain

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Liliana Arnold
5 years ago
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1 This past week, I had the opportunity to sit in on one of the theology classes at Cardinal Ritter. Being the chaplain there, I try to spend some of my time attending classes with the students. It gives me the chance to get to know them, and they get the chance to get to know me. Sometimes I get involved with the lesson; other times I just sit in the back row like a good Catholic and take everything in; and every once in a while, I end up teaching solo for an entire class period. And its fun...great fun. But during this last class I attended, something...inspired happened. Something providential even. In the midst of a discussion about the sins against faith, hope, and charity, a young lady tentatively raised her hand and asked a profound question. She asked, "Is it possible to go through life without knowing what talents God has given you?"

2 The teacher stopped and looked down at her with a frown and said, "Not only is it possible, but I'd wager it happens every single day." The young lady replied, "So what your saying is that someone could be a brilliant painter and not even know it? Or they could be the next Beethoven and never write a scrap of music? How can that even be possible? How could...how could someone not even know their own talents?" Again the teacher looked down at the young lady with a frown on his face and sadness in his voice and he said, "Fear. Fear distracts us from what is best in ourselves, and fear prevents us from discovering who we really are." (long pause) Ain't that the truth. (pause and sigh) I look out into this world, and do you know what I see? I see a people who have forgotten who they are. I see a tired world that no longer strives after excellence or greatness, but merely limps along now, using the status quo and mediocrity

3 as its misshapen crutches. I see a shadow world where commitment has been overshadowed by convenience, where gratitude has been mutated into entitlement, and where true love has been lost in the race for self-gratification. I see a broken world filled with broken people living broken lives who eventually accept their brokenness as ordinary; as an everyday feeling that will never go away. But most of all, I see fear; a crippling, demoralizing fear that has caused us to bury our talents, our hopes, our dreams, and our very sense of love deep down inside our own stone hearts lest we risk the sting of criticism or the prick of failure or the slow death of disappointment. (pause) That's what I see. That's what I feel. And I'm sick and tired of it. When are we going to wake up? When are we going to wake up and realize that we were made for something more than this? When are we going to open our eyes and see that God created us to be something special?

4 You know, I'm reminded of a story my mom used to read to us when we were kids. The story is about a town full of little wooden people called Wemmicks. And everyday, the Wemmicks would come out of their little houses and try to impress the other Wemmicks with their various talents. Those Wemmicks who could juggle or sing or dance would receive gold stars from their fellow Wemmicks. And those who had little or no talents would receive black dots instead. Life revolved around those stars and dots; and one's worth was dependent upon how many stars or how many dots you wore. Punchinello was one of those Wemmicks who always received dots. He wanted so badly to get stars, but he always seemed to make a fool of himself. He would try to sing, but he wasn't very good and would receive black dots for his harsh voice. He would try to jump up high like some of the other Wemmicks, but ultimately would only succeed in falling hard on the pavement and scratching the paint on his

5 wooden body. The fall and the scratch would earn him more black dots. Soon, his entire body was covered in those black marks. And when poor Punchinello eventually locked himself in his house for fear of receiving more black dots, the door to his house became covered with them. He knew what people said of him. He knew that they all agreed that he was not a good wooden person. And eventually, Punchinello began to believe them. He swore that he would never leave his house again. One day, Punchinello looked out his window and saw a wooden girl without a single star or dot on her. He watched her carefully and noticed something different about her. She wasn't singing or dancing or juggling like the other Wemmicks. She just walked down the street with a huge smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. When someone gave her a dot because she didn't have any stars, the dot would simply fall off her; and when someone tried to give

6 her a star because she didn't have any dots, the star would fall off as well. And Punchinello was intrigued by this girl. Wanting to know her secret, Punchinello raced out of his house to meet her. Her name was Lucia, and he asked her how she was able to keep the dots and stars from sticking to her. "It's easy," Lucia replied. "Every day I go see Eli. He is the woodcarver. And everyday, I sit in His workshop and spend time with Him." Punchinello asked her, "Why do you do that?" And she simply said in reply, "Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill and visit with Him. He's always there." But you see, Punchinello was afraid. He was afraid Eli would think he was a bad wooden person just like all the other Wemmicks did. He was afraid Eli wouldn't want to see little Punchinello. But as he looked around him and saw all the wooden people scurrying around putting dots and stars on

7 each other, he finally built up the courage to go see what this Eli fellow had to say. Punchinello walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big Woodcarver Shop. His little wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tippy-toes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard and thought to himself, "I'm not staying here!" and he turned to leave. Then he heard his name. "Punchinello?" said a deep, strong voice. Punchinello stopped. The voice said, "Punchinello, oh how good it is of you to come! Here, let me have a look at you." Punchinello slowly turned around and looked at the large bearded craftsman and said, "Sir, you know my name?" Eli looked down at him and said, "Of course I do. I made you, and you are mine. I carefully crafted you to be unique and one of a kind."

8 Punchinello lowered his head in shame and said, "But I'm nothing special. I have no talents. No skills. My wood is rough and splintered. My paint is scratched and chipped. I'm not a very good wooden person." Eli stooped over and picked Punchinello up and set him on the workbench. And he said, "Your talent, the thing that makes you special, is the talent of being who I made you to be. No one else can take your place. No one else can do what you can do. No one else can smile or love or be loved as only you can. And that's the only talent that really matters." Suddenly, Punchinello allowed himself to hope that what Eli was saying was true, and one of his black dots fell away. Eli smiled and said, "Come back to me everyday, Punchinello, so I can remind you of that simple truth, and eventually, you will come to know who you are; and your black dots will disappear forever."

9 Punchinello thanked Eli and promised to come back again the next day. And as he was leaving, the woodcarver called out after him, "Remember Punchinello, you are special because I made you special, and I don't make mistakes." (pause) We are not here by accident. We are not who we are because of some cosmic mistake. God doesn't make mistakes. Every quality, every talent, every freckle, every aspect of your being has purpose. Who you are matters. Never forget that! Never forget who you are. Never forget that you are a child of the light sent into this world for one purpose and one purpose only. To love. To share your love with others. To bring God's love into the lives of those living in darkness. But we can only do that if we visit the Creator and allow him to love us first. We can only discover who we are when we look into the eyes of our Maker and see who he made us to be.

10 Remember, Punchinello, you are special because I made you special; and I do not make mistakes.

St. John s United Church Service November 6th, 2016 Scripture: Revelation 7:9-17 Reader: Jane Wynne Reflection: Rev. Karen Verveda SCRIPTURE READING:

St. John s United Church Service November 6th, 2016 Scripture: Revelation 7:9-17 Reader: Jane Wynne Reflection: Rev. Karen Verveda SCRIPTURE READING: Revelation 7 9 After this I looked, and there was a