It so happened that one day in my youth, I happily strolled into the kitchen of our house where my older cousin and my mother were at table talking about something or other. I sat down on the little stool that was in the corner by the cabinets and interrupted them as I proudly announced that I had invented a brand new word! They continued their chatter and so I announced once again that I had invented a brand new word! They laughed a bit as they looked at each other and then began, well what is your new w...? $%&#@, I blurted out. WHAT??? $%&#@, I said again louder than before – and with great pride, I might add. My mother almost spit out the coffee of which she had just taken a sip. My cousin said, you can’t say that! My flabbergasted mother demanded, where did you hear that word? I made it up, I said. Again, my mother demanded to know where I heard that word. Who taught you that word, she said with a look of anger as she began to reach for the big wooden spoon which served to enforce discipline and get the attention of distracted, horse-playing sons. You can’t say that, my cousin screeched again. I heard you already, I said testily! You can’t say that! Now, my mother was chiming in. It’s a bad word that you can never say. I wanted to know why. It seemed like such a nice word. And I really, really did make it up! Honest, Mom! I mean it rhymed with duck and ducks are so funny when they go quack, quack. It also rhymed with truck and I loved playing with my toy trucks after school. I thought that good, old Sister Rita would be so proud of me, but I’m glad that I didn’t share my new word with her just yet. Sister was teaching me so well! I was really into learning my phonics! Gosh! Now, I could rhyme words and even make-up new ones! Maybe one day I’ll be a poet, I thought! After my mother calmed down a bit, she simply said that you can never say that word. My cousin again giddily reiterated, yeah you can never say it! Shut up, I said! Stop now! My mother had the last word. I never did find out that day why I couldn’t say my wonderful new word. Eventually, some years later, I would find out as another kid got his mouth washed out with soap. Literally! Prior to the soap suds, he was caught in the schoolyard explaining to some of us exactly what $%$#@ meant. Of course, I never shared that that was my word. My mother got her point well across to me that fateful day of remonstration regarding my fledgling phonetic, poetic endeavors. Maybe Faith is something like this – in reverse, if you will. Faith is not a four letter word, but five. And it is certainly not something foul, but rather quite beautiful! When we first learn it, we really don’t know what it means. I heard it often on the lips of Sister at school and I knew that it was the reason why folks were at Mass on Sundays. Actually, I’m still learning its meaning, but I know that it’s not something to be whispered in childish schoolyard ramblings, but spoken of proudly much like when I first entered the kitchen that day. Faith actually rhymes with Life, because with it life itself becomes a most beautiful poem sung. It needs to be discovered anew each day for every one of us. What will your new Word of Faith be this day? And rest assured, please share it with the rest of us – Sister Rita and my mother included!
Peace!
Fr. Wilson