Baxter loves to talk. He has different things to say depending upon what is going on. When he wants to eat, he has this annoying meow that harangues me until I respond with what he wants — food! After he has eaten, he has recently started making this billowing sound. I think it is his version of a roar, marking his conquest of prey for sustenance. Of course, in his case, the prey is kibble from a bag. Nevertheless, Baxter voices a lion’s heart, even though he has the diet and physique of a domestic short hair. If the truth be told, his roar is more like a heavy chirp than a ferocious blast. (We can only deliver what we have!) Baxter’s most distinctive sound comes right before he has a hair ball episode. This groan starts deep in his gut, and it slowly crescendos to a piercing plea for relief, just before the messy cough up occurs. Two seconds afterwards, he’s quiet and innocent looking, walking around the unsightly residue and ignoring it, as if to say, “Who did that?” He knows I’ll clean it up, so why bother himself.
Like Baxter, we have different things to say in different ways depending upon the situation and our disposition. Sometimes our talk is small. We chat with a neighbor or friend about what went on today — what happened at work, what the kids are up to, what secrets are around about people we know, our troubles and problems on a minor scale. Sometimes we say special things to ground our lives in our words: “I love you.”; “I am so sorry.”; “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” These words that make life matter because they strengthen our commitments and the meaning they bring to our lives. These words need to be said in the right way in the proper situation and often. They add to the reality of what they are expressing, and if they are not said, we soon lose a sense of love, forgiveness and gratitude in our lives.
Our talk at Eucharist will soon be changing somewhat. We are being asked to learn new responses to various parts of the Mass, and to hear some new wording from others at Mass. Why all this bother? Well, sometimes our language becomes rote and automatic. We say “yes” just to get someone off our back, but we don’t really mean it. We can do the same with our responses and prayers at Mass. They become so familiar that we don’t pay attention to their meaning and message any longer. We respond out of a thoughtless habit, rather than a heartfelt conviction. We say what we are supposed to say, rather than what we truly mean. So these upcoming changes in our God-talk at Mass are an opportunity for us to say what we mean and mean what we say. Let’s practice a moment.
“The Lord be with you.” “And with your spirit.” This is a special greeting. It is not just a casual “Hi” as we pass on the street. It’s an acknowledgement of who we are before God as His children and heirs to God’s Kingdom. With all else that we are — parent, employee, friend, spouse, citizen, fan, etc. — we are spiritual persons, ones marked to live by the Spirit of Christ in all our other roles. We are in this world of family, finances, friends, sports, work, entertainment and politics, but not of this world. We live in this world as disciples of Christ and citizens of God’s Kingdom, and we can do so because we are more than flesh and blood, mind and emotions, and we are more than friends, family or associates. At Mass we recognize that we are also spiritual persons united as the Body of Christ for the sake of our mission to build God’s Kingdom in the world. We remind each other of this deeper part of ourselves, and we encourage each other to live from this level when we say “And with your spirit.”
I know when Baxter is mad about something I did or didn’t do, because he turns his back on me and sits in place saying nothing. If we ignore the spirit in each other and never raise a voice to acknowledge it, we may forget to use it in the way we relate to each other, work together, and effect the world. Come on, Baxter, say something nice. Come on, folks, say something of God to each other. “And with your spirit.”
