The Great Unmasking by Fran Salone-Pelletier
Spiritual reflections from autumn to Advent.
It was the day before Halloween and all the candy had left the stores. Bags and baskets were being readied for eager children. When morning broke, they would be masked with the wonder of it all. Giggles would soon escape stifling, and feet race to be the first in line. Some said it was a wonderful time of year. But did we really understand what it was all about? Did we ingest the concept of sanctity and recognize holiness, even when it was masked with a human touch?
One way to begin the story is to tell it, tell it on the mountaintops and tell it in the valleys of life. Live in the throes of giving and receiving, of getting and remembering. It is a time to speak of sanctity and know we are all saints in the making. Too often we fall prey to a masked life. We fail to see, touch, name, and proclaim the saints we are—flawed yet holy, sainted people.
Yes, we sometimes react rather than respond to the cries of the poor. Lost in the riches of materialism, we forget our own poverty. We lose sight of the wealth awaiting us. We are unaware of the deep pockets of spirituality that beckon our presence, our loveliness, our childlike glee at simply being alive. We wear a mask rather than unveil the holiness in which and with which we were created. We are holy people, even if we are not yet wholly the people God calls us to be.
It is time to come alive with the divinity with whom we are embraced. It is time to let ourselves be unmasked, to become who we really are and know that we are good—we may not be great, but we surely are good. We are a godly people who see beyond sight and hear the silent cries of the poor. We walk in the wonder of creation, even if we are yet masked with fear that someone will notice our flaws and failures more than the bounty of our faithfulness. We are called to be unmasked, to recognize the grace and goodness of all creation. We are asked to announce the good news, even if our message is not received with the vigor with which it was offered to us.
This is a time for remembering and for being re-membered as the people of God. It is a time for recollection, for savoring each moment of our lives and each one we offer to others. It is a time when giving and receiving are united in the embrace of love, a time to loosen our hold on the limitations of “for-getting” and embrace the loveliness of “for-giving.” It is time to celebrate our sanctity, no matter how flawed we think it might be. We are not asked to be perfect—we are called to be perfected. Saints are people of God. Saints do not own God. They are called to be godly. Our call, our invitation, is to be God’s people.
The invitation will never end, and neither will God’s assistance to accept it. The welcoming call is offered in the words of Scripture, no matter the language used or the affiliation announced. The acclamation is clear and precise: “If we love one another, God remains in us and God’s love is brought to perfection in us” (1 John 4:12).
Divinity is alive and well in God’s people. The statement is both wholly true and truly holy. Yes, it will mean doing good, even—especially—to those who hate us. That’s the description the Lucan community expressed. They knew the power of blessings given and blessings received, even when those blessings seemed to go unrecognized.
In fact, the call goes even deeper. It begs us to love our enemies and do good to them without ever expecting repayment. That gives a more positive approach to our oft-repeated caution: “What goes around comes around.”
Love offered, love given, goes around and returns in full measure, overflowing with graciousness. Yes, we are thinking about the statement that we are holy people. Our wholesomeness is not candy in a Halloween basket. It is giving and receiving in a continual circle of love. It is the holiness that marks us as truly human persons, faithful even if flawed.
Those are not our words. Those are the words of a loving God whose understanding of gift-giving is unlimited, beyond human comprehension. Yet the promise remains and is retained for giving:
Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and gifts will be given to you: a good measure packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you (Luke 6:37-38).
Love is the biggest “if” there is. If we love, we are saints. If we love, we are becoming wholly human and holy ones. If we love, God is present to those whose lives have been darkened by judgment, hatred, misunderstanding, prejudice, greed . . . And yet God calls. God will never stop calling and sharing and loving and being merciful. ♦
Fran Salone-Pelletier holds a master’s degree in theology. She is the author of a trilogy of scriptural meditations, Awakening to God: The Sunday Readings in Our Lives.