The Toppling Tower: Sunday's Homily

Re -Therese
I’ve provided a link to his homily here, though, because it was so good that at the end of it, the congregation all clapped.

** Oh my God ! There is hope for Catholicism. We had a pastor like that, and so many times I wanted to leap to me feet and clap, and other times he brought tears to me eyes. I would got to him after and look very angry and say "I hated your homily today, you made me cry !"

For a second, I felt like I was in the wrong place … the Baptist church down the block from me. His story is called "The Toppling Tower,"

** I know exactly what you mean. I think there are a lot of Towers that need to be toppled and a lot of walls that have to be torn down that stand between us and God. When he first came to our church, one of his first homilies was about depression. He had been the chaplain and a speech writer for the US Congress. He had went into deep depression and was on 13 medications a day, in order to just function (he wasn't specific, but you can imagine the kind of confessions he had heard, and could never say anything, life and death confessions, that may have involved thousands) He had heard about this tiny little Charismatic nun who prayed and laid hands on people (a lot like Mother Teresa) He went to one of her prayer services, that was attended by all priests (talk about covert activities)He stood there in shock as each priest collapsed upon her laying on of hands (he said it was like a lot of beached whales) and the same thing happened to him, out like a light bulb!(in the Charismatic/Pentecostal world it is called "Slain in the Spirit") He has been off all drugs since. There is a power that exists, but in my mind more than anything else, it is the power of Faith ... That same thing happened to me ... “If you had faith, the size of a mustard seed, you could command that mountain to leap into the sea … and it would !” (Yeshuah)

LUV 2 ALL
Wisdum

An interesting visual came to my mind while I was reading this wonderful homily; one of prison walls with (Yes) towers every so many feet for the purpose of observing and preventing escapes (For who would want to break IN to a prison yard?)
For many of us who fight depression, our illness is like a prison, and the towers along our walls serve both to keep us from breaking out and, like Ted in the story, to keep others from breaking IN In our lonely paranoia, we feel the need to be "safe" when the reality of this world is that there truly IS no safety except what can be found spiritually. I propose that each of us destroy our personal towers (hope that's not an offensive metaphor, Larry. I was--like most anericans I know--profoundly stirred six years ago and would do nothing to deliberately trivialize the sacrifices made on that day and in the years which have followed by all citizens, but primarily those who were most closely affected through the loss of a loved one. I think we might all be amazed to discover that the very safety we've been seeking was and is actually surrounding us all along in the form of God's love and forgiveness, because remember not even the STRONGEST or tallest of towers can keep him out. Personally, the epiphany is somewhat like Ted's: The people who want to tear down my towers to get inside are quite likely the ones God has sent to me to help me become less content with my isolation and thus break me out of my prison in spite of myself. Since the reality of my life is also truly a kind of prison due to my homebound status (I'm disabled now and don't get out often) the true friends and those committed family members who make a point of breaking through intomy prison have made a tremendous difference in my present day-to-day existence. Thanks to their courage and their refusal to allow me to withdraw from life, I am now tutoring several at-risk children which has not only allowed me to dust off my professional skills as a retired teacher, but lets me feel like I am contributing to our society once again (I don't charge for this service; I receive far more than I could possibly give by feeling productive and contributory once more!) Now that that first tower has been penetrated, I plan to disassemble the rest of them from the inside out and brave the fear of exposing myself to the eyes and thus judgment of the rest of the world. Children are so accepting that there's been little risk by inviting them in! but they also tend to "tell it like it is" which has helped prepare me for facing their adult counterparts. I'm learning that I needn't necessarily claim the criticisms others may make of this fractured me who seems (to me) to be such a less valuable individual than the woman who taught and participated for thirty odd years. I'm also learning that I'm my own worst critic and starting to wonder if perhaps i've honestly been hiding from their approval rather than their lack of acceptance of who i've become since my stroke! They don't seem to notice my deficiences as much as I do myself except in the obvious ways like my needing assistanceto do basic things since I have only one working arm. I've realized tht some of the things that made me me, like bursting into song at the strangest moment when a show tune seemed to capture the moment are fully available to me still if I allow myself the freedom to dump the labels of "mentally ill and cognitively impaired" by refusing to stay locked away anty longer. I can, obviously, still sing if perhaps not as artfully because of the toll time and thirty years of teaching all day took on my vocal cords, and my sense of humor is still intact even if it's notalways as "appropriate" as it was before I had my brain attack!
So how about it, out there in the netherland of cyberspace? Anyone else ready to topple some towers and break out?
As always, Therese, thanks for sharing and providing the springboard my warped mind uses to come up with these wild ideas! You're tops in my book!