Homily for the Twentieth Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)
St. Joseph's Neier August 13-14, 2011
Rev. Kevin Schmittgens
Central Idea: We have been marked and claimed by God and have been given the gift to share goodness and life with others.
For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.
Never get a tattoo. Trust me on this one. Never get a tattoo.
Back in the old days, when Fr. Kevin was younger, only sailors, bikers and drunks got tattoos. Nowadays it seems like everyone is getting inked. So although it may be more socially acceptable today, never get a tattoo. After having some skin surgery this past summer for skin cancer, having two areas cut out and two areas burnt off, trust me it is not worth it.
Beyond the pain, beyond the physical mutilation that your body will go through, beyond the fact that you will get older as your tat will, beyond the fact that you will have a difficult time explaining the ink not just to your parents and loved ones, but to any personnel directors you are talking to while applying for a job, there are the boneheaded mistakes that some tattoo professionals have done. Faces which look beautiful on a picture, become hideous when translated to your skin. Personally, I would check the spelling grades of the artists who do this. Check out the epic fails on the internet. One young lad decided to get the words “I’m Awesome” across his back. Beyond the fact that that may be one of the stupidest tattoos ever, that blunder was compounded when in fact he got I’m Amsome on his back instead. (Which pretty much seals the deal that this person is NOT awesome.) One tattoo I saw had three separate spelling mistakes.
A new favorite thing in tattoo is getting a tattoo in a foreign language that looks cool, but unless you are an expert in Hebrew or Chinese, you don’t know what you are truly putting on your body. One woman wanted to put the word “strength” in Hebrew. She got “goat” instead. One woman wanted to show that she was her own person, so she had a waiter in a Chinese restaurant to write the Chinese character for “free” on a napkin which she later got tattooed to her body. Unfortunately, the word “free” also carries the meaning of “free of charge” which may not be the meaning or nuance she had in mind.
But the biggest reason to not get a tattoo is that they are permanent. Basically a needle is poked through the outer skin layer, the epidermis, the skin that peels off and goes down to the dermis, the permanent layer and then ink is inserted. Sounds fun and hygienic, doesn’t it? And tattoo removal is even more painful than getting one. So you get your girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s name painted on your skin. Ah, love. Then he or she breaks up with you. That separation is even more painful than you can even imagine. I had someone explain it to me like this: think about a t-shirt that you wore eight years ago. Would you still wear it today? Would you still wear it, ten years from now? Would you still wear it when you are, God forbid, Fr. Kevin’s age?
Have I sufficiently scared you about the stupidity and folly of tattoos?
Good, because I am going to tell you that you already have one. Don’t blame me, because for the most part, your parents are the culprits here. Let me explain.
As many of you may have learned in school, baptism is one of the sacraments that confers what we call a "mark" or a "seal" or a "character." (Your homework assignment: what other two of the seven sacraments also confer a mark?) A mark is a spiritual tattoo, only it goes deeper, much deeper, than the dermis. This mark is etched on your heart and it is not just a cosmetic or ornamental thing, but it is something out which we move and live and have our being. It is that which gives us the power to live out our lives in faith, in hope and in love. Practically speaking, what this means is that you do not and, indeed, cannot be baptized again. Furthermore, nothing you do, nothing you say, nothing that you encounter in your life can alter the fact that you have been “inked” by God.
The reason for this dogma of our church is rather simple and basic: once God promises something, God will not go back on his promise. This principle of our faith has less to do about our actions as it has to do about the power and love and action of God. St. Paul reminds us in the letter to the Romans today: God's call and God's gifts are irrevocable. We cannot shake them off, we cannot have them removed, they are permanent. They may not produce fruits, they may not touch our lives, but they are always given, even if we choose not to acknowledge them. It means that no matter what we do, no matter how we mess up, no matter how far we abandon God's love, God's love will not abandon us.
Personally, I find this both comforting and challenging. It is comforting insofar as I realize how very deeply God's love and concern touches my life. It is good to know that through it all, God's love will be there, calling me back, helping me to realize the gifts and the hope that love offers. It is challenging insofar as it is greatly disturbing to be loved so. For that unconditional deep love of God seems to demand a greater response from me. It seems to call me to reject my sinful ways and be embraced by the warm gentle love of God. When you are loved like that, it is painful not to respond.
And that changes the way we live our lives.
The late NBC journalist Tim Russert tells a great story about him and his son.
Christmas Eve, 2004, the Russert family (good Catholics all) went to midnight mass, came home and Luke (Russert’s son) was getting ready for bed. And Russert’s wife, Maureen, came running in and said, “You won’t believe it. He’s got a tattoo.”
Russert replied, “A tattoo? I talked to him about that, about the physical consequences. He promised he —
“Luke, get in here.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Get in here. No? What — lift up your arm.”
Arms locked. “No.”
I said, “Lift up your arm.”
He lifts up his arm, and there in a little purple stencil print, the initials TJR. Russert’s dad’s name was Timothy Joseph Russert. His name was Timothy John Russert.
And the boy said, “After I read your book, I always wanted you and grandpa on my side.”
Russert fell in the chair, sobbed uncontrollably. My wife’s crying. Luke’s crying. Finally he said, “You know, this is the nicest tattoo I’ve ever seen, but don’t get another one, you little rascal.”
Good story eh? But find another way to honor your family. Don’t get a tattoo.