Many of us have heard St. Teresa's Prayer that begins "Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours... to do good." Well, I like to add "Christ has no MOUTH but yours to do good."
Kisses carry such a wide variety of meaning. Some people's kisses are few and far between because for them kisses are a sign of very intimate love, given only to close family. Their kisses must carry much worth for those they love. Because my idea of family is very loose and far-flung, I kiss just about everyone I know, on the cheek, or forehead, or mouth, depending on the closeness of the relationship.
Some kisses I give convey happy, relaxed, almost casual affection. But many people in our Church are elderly and live alone or semi-alone. They relish the warmth of human touch and I know my kiss on the cheek, my tangible love, cheers and blesses them. Others whom I hug and kiss at wakes are in shock, struck to the heart with grief, and I hold them, cheek pressed to theirs, for a long time. My kisses are gentle, pouring as much tenderness into them as I can, like pouring water over a thirsty plant.
Those who live in institutions often have few opportunities to give and receive kisses. Some amaze me by their capacity to give. There is a lady who wheels by me every time I go to the Nursing Home, and she stops when she reaches me, lifts up my hand and kisses it. While we are holding hands, I turn hers to kiss it. I don't know which one of us feels more blessed.
My mother, demented as she is, lights up like a Christmas tree when I or one of my sisters kisses her. I've never seen such joy and it humbles me. When she can add "I love you," the words are a treasure to hear, because how much longer will I hear them?
We often give our family members distracted kisses, but we never know when a kiss is the last one we will give or receive. Ask anyone whose loved one has died unexpectedly. It's an experience that changes you, causes you to choose to kiss your beloved family in the future with your entire focused heart.
Little children's kisses tend to be distracted, given in between running and games, but I treasure them and give mine back quickly. I always feel like I've been kissed by an angel.
Sometimes we're afraid to kiss because we don't want our affection to be misinterpreted. I am haunted by the memory from years ago of a young boy in his teens, with developmental disabilities, whom I passed in a park. He stopped me, such great loneliness and need on his face, and implored "Will you marry me? Will you please marry me?"
I was old enough to be his mother. I touched him lightly on the arm and said, with great gentleness, "I can't. I'm already married." He pulled away and went to the next woman he saw.
I am grateful that today I see photos in the News of people with all types of disabilities getting married and being supported by their community, which recognizes their dignity and worth.
Mother Teresa spoke of the poverty of loneliness which afflicts people who are rich, poor, and in between. Often people are lonely because they are different - and others won't reach out to them. So often when someone uses a wheelchair in public, people will turn their faces away, not knowing what to say. Or else, if someone has noticeable mental disabilities, people will turn their faces and silently laugh. I saw a restaurant worker silently laugh at my sister when her back was turned. A knife went into my heart.
I think of St. Paul's closing words to his church at Rome: "Greet...all the holy ones who are with them. Greet one another with a holy kiss." (Romans 16: 15-16.) Considering that all of us are made in the Image and Likeness of God, maybe we should widen our ideas of which people in our lives are holy. Maybe we should also realize that our kisses are holy and we need to share them with others more easily, give them out more plentifully. For thoughtful, loving kisses are truly holy Blessings, for those who give and those who receive.