The Obstinate of Heart

" The Lord said to me, 'Stand up on your feet and I will speak to you. 'As He spoke, the Spirit came into me and raised me to my feet, and I heard him speaking to me. He said, 'I am sending you to a rebellious nation that has rebelled against me; they and their ancestors have been in revolt against me to this very day. The people I am sending you to are hard of face and obstinate of heart. And whether they listen or fail to listen -- for they are a rebellious house-- they will know that a prophet has been among them. Do not be afraid of them or their words. Do not be afraid, though briers and thorns are all around you and though they are a rebellious house. You must speak my words to them, whether they listen nor fail to listen.' " [Ezekiel 2: 1-8].

My parents were hard of face. They rarely smiled. They wore grim faces. Theirs was not to smile and spread joy. Their life was a daily routine of drudgery and toil. Their outlook was one of constant criticism and judgment of  others. No one ever measured up. Not even me.

My parents were obstinate of heart. They were cold, ungenerous. When I was a toddler, they would force feed me what I hated. By age five, I was asking on a daily basis, what was for dinner? If it was something I would despise and gag on, I knew I would get no dinner. I knew that I would go hungry that night. If I asked, at age five, for a nap, I was told I could not be tired because I was five. But I knew the Truth, that I WAS tired, so I put myself down for naps.

I felt like Ezekiel in today's Reading. I was sent to a rebellious house. But I was only a child, whereas Ezekiel was a man.

How could I  possibly have dealt with these people? God tells Ezekiel, "Do not be afraid of them or their words." But they called me ugly every day and when I got angry, they said that I was too sensitive.

God told Ezekiel, " Do not be afraid, though briers and thorns are all around you."  Surely, I felt their stings and barbs. I was told, "Not everyone can be as perfect as you."  They booby trapped my room, so even my own bedroom was not a safe haven. If I complained, they kicked me outdoors.

God tell Ezekiel, "Whether they listen or fail to listen, they will know  that a prophet has been among them." Sometimes, I would tell my family, 'We need to give to charity.' They would mock me for this.   

These times remind me of today's Gospel in Mark 6: 1:   Jesus returns to his hometown to preach. As He began to teach, the listeners asked, "Where does He get these things? Isn't this the carpenter?" I was asked the same thing often times: "Where do you GET this stuff?!" Or, "Where did you come from, under a toadstool?"

Jesus chides them, "Only in  in his hometown, among his relatives and in his own house, is a prophet without honor."  I would ask to go to church and I was told, 'We don't do that.' Like Jesus, I was amazed at their lack of faith.

I have felt a bit of guilt in recent years that I was not able to, in essence, convert my family, to somehow convince them that a life of love and generosity and joy is a life better lived. But, like Jesus, I could  not perform any miracles there.

All these years, I thought I was the weak one because, over that rebellious house, I could never seem to win out. I thought that my family was too strong for me. Yet,  in 2 Corinthians: 12,  one of  my favorite Biblical Scriptures, St. Paul says: " When I am weak, then I am strong." And so I ask you, who was the weak one in my house? Was I the weak one to stand up to them and say that we should give to charity or go to church?

Was I the weak one to take it upon myself to do all the family mending and sewing, and to tend my mother's garden? Was I the weak one to feel Love by giving it? To speak and behave in Love, whether or not they listened? Or failed to listen?

I did what Jesus did. I  ministered to them , I tried to love them. But when no miracles of love transpired --as Jesus did, I packed my things and I left home. Perhaps, in retrospect, they thought that I was crazy. Or perhaps, someday they will see that a prophet had been among them.

I speak this, not to glorify myself, but to say that we are all called to be prophets. We are all called to speak and to live in Love, whether others listen or fail to listen. My family did not change me by being hard of face or obstinate of heart.

My parents are gone now. BUT --I still love. I still live. I have not changed. I am the immutable one, who believes in the power of Love over all hate, over all hardness of heart, over all  lack of faith.

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