Since I am both a teacher and a priest, I feel that today I should write something educational as well as spiritual.
Always sit in the front pews when you go to church, especially if the ushers are going to dismiss the congregation from the front, as they did at my boarding school this morning. This is the best policy in the long run, because, if you sit in the back you end up waiting a long time for your homemade omelet. We have a fantastic Sunday brunch, by the way, and that is motivation enough for most people to want to be first out of the church. Moreover, most chapel speakers at my school imagine that what they have to say is very important, so it also helps if the students humor them whenever possible. Nothing is more disturbing to a preacher than to have everyone sit as far back as they can, and to have them burst out of the building the moment the final words, “Thanks be to God” are spoken. If the preacher does not inspire you, the least you can do is pretend that he or she does. It’s the courteous thing to do.
Never chew gum in chapel. So many children have learned this bad habit by watching older students chew and snap gum. I have witnessed the sweetest little faculty children, who, striving to be just like the older students, wiping tables after supper, straightening benches and tidying up the school, only to find them years later as sophomores or juniors, concealing wads of watermelon bubblicious wedged between cheek and jaw in chapel. We used to have a hard and fast rule about this, and it applied to all school gatherings, including special programs, theatre performances and school meetings. Certain very sly individuals would sometimes sneak it in their cheek, and keep it there, even during the prayers and hymns. But, as Murphy proved, gum will betray you, and at the most conspicuous moment. It has happened during an important pause in the Confession or a silent moment during the anthem that "snap!" the proverbial cat jumped out of the bag, and all eyes turned on the culprit who shrank low in the pew. So don’t embarrass yourself or risk upsetting the adults around you, by chewing gum in chapel. We are pretty sure we know better about such things; and the little children, who learn from you, will be less inclined to develop this bad social habit.
Never throw an ice ball. Many broken noses, stung cheeks and damaged eyes are the result of this temptation. The American author Mark Twain tells the story of a young boy who played with an unloaded rifle. My story is a paraphrase about a boy who was playing in the snow one Sunday afternoon. He had made the perfect ice ball—cold, wet, hard packed —a perfect weapon. Just then his great aunt was leaving after a Sunday visit with the family, and the boy, who had never thrown any ball more than about ten feet, spied her our at 20 yards. She looked up, and waved her arms. “No! n0!” she cried. But the boy, thinking he could never reach her, just laughed, took careful aim and let the ice ball go. And he was right, he missed. The ice ball went only about ten feet. It’s the strangest story. 99 times out of a hundred, a boy who couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at ten feet, can nail his great aunt with an ice ball every time. Nevertheless, have fun with snow, make forts, and snow angels, but, please, I implore you, leave ice balls and unloaded weapons where they belong—in stories.
Always try something new. I give you this advice from an old friend, whom my students call “Griz.” He learned it from his father, and regretted that he didn’t take the advice seriously until almost too late. How else, he would say, will you know if you might actually like some new food or activity, be good at something, or find your true calling? Finding a vocation is complex. It involves a certain amount of independence, and a deep commitment to effort. Most of us do not find that true calling on the first attempt, so we must try and try again. Three times is the charm, they say. In football, the team tries three times. If you don’t succeed, then punt the ball.
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus advocates for the "try something new" approach. After teaching to the crowd, a personal teaching moment arose. Simon was a bored fisherman. He was working at a vocation that was really his father’s, and probably his father’s father’s as well. Jesus asked Peter to let down his nets for a catch, and what did Peter say?
“Yo, dude,…forget about it. We’ve tried all night. There are no fish.” I imagine Jesus being stern and in control. He looked at Simon Peter and said, “Just do it!” And, surprisingly, Simon did. Next thing you know the nets are bursting and the boat is sinking because of the huge load of fish they’ve caught.
But the lesson is not really about the fish; that’s just to get your attention. The lesson is in what comes next. Jesus looks deeply into the eyes, and deeply into the soul of Simon Peter. Jesus cuts through the boredom, through Simon’s sarcasm and his pessimistic attitude, and he says, “You, know…fishing is not your thing, is it? You are a person with huge potential, but your potential lies dormant… .” Dormant, from the verb Dormir in French, which means “to sleep.” Jesus knows that Simon is not made for catching fish. It was a vocation that just came along, so he took the job. His true potential was in working with people. That calling excited Simon. It resonated with something deep inside himself. It stimulated an awareness that had always been there.
That potential is there for every one of us. Goodness, virtue and potential are the condition of every human being, but we too often give up too early. How many of us have said, or will say, “I am no good at anything.” It’s just not true, and that is why Jesus chose to become the prophet who awakens people to the mystery of their own souls.
Each of us has a soul made for goodness and with unlimited potential. Unlimited. That means, no end. That means, if you don’t succeed the first time, try again. Seize the day, again, and again, and again. Griz would say, “Don’t wait until you are 78 to open yourself to the potential that lies within you.” Jesus says, “Do not be afraid to find your true vocation, that which you were meant to be.”
You will ask, “How will I know?” Peter, and his partners James and John have an answer: “We left everything to follow Jesus. That is how we knew.”
When you are so sure that something is right for you, so sure that you are willing to leave everything—father, mother, home, country, even your life—then you stop being anxious; you have conviction; faith and confidence become your reward.
