Homily

by Father Kevin McDonough, August 22, 2022

As did Linda and Jack, my parents met at a dance. My mother particularly loved dancing. About two decades ago both couples came to a Mardi Gras Party at my Saint Paul parish. At some point that evening, Jack asked my mother to join him on the dance floor. While not as elegant as a beguine, the number was something ballroom-ish and lovely. Later, I asked my mother how she had enjoyed the evening. She replied: “That Jack: he sure can dance”.

That Jack sure could dance. He mastered the complicated dances of civic life, helping to make our community more livable and humane throughout his professional career. He knew how to navigate the self-righteousness of the not-for-profit world. Just ask the dinosaur at the Science Museum whether Jack could dance! And most of all, he loved to dance with Linda and their kids and grandkids. She will have much more to say about that when she talks to us.

Jack could dance for all the right reasons. Handsome and athletic, he was at home in his own person. Sociable and open to all sorts of people, he was a marvelous party guest or host. Committed to the delicate balancing act that is justice, he was intellectually nimble, deeply engaged – and he enjoyed the battles!  

Most of all, Jack had the music in him. Rhythm and melody, of course, but he also loved wit and sacrality and loveliness. I was privileged to dance with Jack through the worst part of the pandemic. We designed and implemented a program that kept about 200 low-income families safe and secure in their rental housing. The required a subtle melding of various community interests – and so it was right up Jack’s alley. What a privilege to watch a master at work. He put compassion, legal knowledge, and the real art of the deal in service to the vulnerable. That Jack – he sure could dance!

I love the gospel text we just heard. Jesus taunts his listeners with a story about children taunting one another. Around him you can imagine the skeptical crowd, arms folded and watching for a mistake. “Get with the music”, Jesus tells them. Cry when a dirge is sung -- and move your body when tempo and company offer the chance. But do not squat in the corner, engaged in nothing beyond fatalistic ignorance and cheap insult. Feel the powerful, loving movement of wisdom – and get with the music.

As was Jack, you and I were born to dance. We may not be as handsome, intellectually skilled, or extroverted. But we were made by Love for love, and for justice by the Just One. You best honor the man we celebrate today by finding your own ways to lift up your neighbor. That Jack, he sure could dance. How about you?