Rousing Reality
Author: Andrew Comiskey
December 19, 2021
‘Man becomes truly himself
precisely at the point when he recognizes that the highest and brightest Being
dwells within him.’ Fr. Alfred Delp
A young man once moved in
across the street from me. He was an actor-dancer, ‘gay-identified’ and
had come to the big city to star in a ‘gay’ holiday cowboy review. Wow. I
politely refused his invite to bring my family for the opening. I did promise
to be a good neighbor and if it was ok, to pray for him and give him any words
I received.
I prayed a lot for him. As
I listened, I kept receiving pictures of him as a family man—alongside wife,
enjoying kids, etc. I thought I was projecting my experience on him but the
Word persisted and I had to give it. He was confused at first: ‘What don’t you
get about ‘gay,’ dude?’ I told him about my walk with Jesus out of ‘gay’ stuff
and how Jesus always moves us in the direction of Reality—being reconciled to
what our bodies are for. Committed creative communions may be better and truer expressions
of our real selves than western hijinks, I surmised. He thought about it, and
we had good talks. He moved away, roused by Reality.
Rousing Reality is what the
‘Visitation’ (Lk. 1:39-45)--today’s Gospel--is all about.
Four candles now blaze like
prophetic fire in the darkness, shining on Mary and summoning her best. She’s
scared. Pregnant, just in her teens, no amount of piety wards off her urgent
need for confirmation. She summons her older cousin, also with child, for the Word
that leaps and prophecies. Elizabeth’s womb cannot contain the fetal Baptist’s
glee; he releases the Spirit to his mom who declares with radical authority:
‘How is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me?’
Do we grasp the Spirit’s
call for us to leap and rouse divine Reality in our fellows? Often, the Word is
stronger in our hearts than in our brother’s. St. Paul implores us to eagerly
seek prophetic gifts (1 Cor. 14:1), exemplified by Elizabeth’s declaration of
who Mary is, Mother of God, about to deliver the Savior of the universe. And
who our neighbor, our child, our spouse, our pastor, the lumpy member next to
us in the pew, is, in truth.
I wouldn’t be here today without
Spirit-filled churchman in whom the prophetic Word leapt, declared, and
shattered my pathetic self-definitions. Though I swaggered my stuff, no amount
of posturing displaced the demonic shame and accusation over my life. A lovely
woman reminded me one Sunday that I was ‘Andrew’, in the Greek, God’s masculine
son, a warrior. I couldn’t have felt less noble. But she roused Reality in me
and in agreement with St. Paul ‘saw me not from a worldly perspective’ (2 Cor.
5:16). She roused the new creation (v. 17), one endowed with power to be
reconciled to the Father’s design for my life.
The Visitation invites us
to look for what is most authentic and creative in ourselves. And in our loved
ones. Maybe we spend too much time freaking out over their confusion. Maybe Jesus
wants us to become like Elizabeth, inspired and attuned to what is most
beautiful about our cousin. Or spouse. Or boss. Offer your prophetic gift.
Rouse Reality in your most difficult family member this Christmas.
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