DIRT

(John 8:6-8)

Dig anywhere
and you’ll
always find dirt.

© Andrew Costello

IS THERE

ANYTHING

OR ANYONE ELSE

I'M PASSING BY?

NURSING HOME

First impression: Visitors must sign in.
Second impression: Wheel chairs and people.
Third impression: People watching people.
Fourth impression: Long corridors of tile.
Fifth impression: Nurses walking fast.
Sixth impression: Old people walking slow.
Seventh impression: Walking into your room
Eight impression: Semi-darkness.
Ninth impression: You.
Tenth impression: Wrinkles
Eleventh impression: We begin talking.
Twelfth impression: You offer me an orange.
Thirteenth impression: Announcements over loud loudspeakers
and you don’t hear them.
Fourteenth impression: You’re okay and happy.
Fifteenth impression: People looking into your room as they go by.
Sixteenth impression: A nurse goes by.
Seventeenth impression: I say I have to leave.
Eighteenth impression: A kiss goodbye.
Nineteenth impression: People in wheel chairs watching
as I push the elevator button.
Twentieth impression: Wondering as I drive home if I’ll
ever live to 88?
Twenty first impression: Will I be grateful and as graceful
as you are today or will I be someone
all want to avoid or forget?




© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: OLD RADIATOR

Angrily hissing,
and hurting,
and letting off steam,
the old radiator
was obviously sad,
hearing them talking about
buying a new electric heater
pretty soon – very soon.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: LONG AGO TODAY

I love only by memory now.
You are gone, dead, buried,
green grass covered.
But buried deep inside of me
are all those moments we died
to be with each other.

And I walked away
from your grave today
filled with tears
and all those memories
buried deep within me.
Thank you my love.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: CANOE CUT

The canoe, like a scissors,
cutting across
the silk fabric of the lake,
soft and silent,
almost evening, sun
setting in the west,
behind the pines,
a red, gold, cloth sky,
and God was a canoe,
a scissors, cutting across
everything: sky, water, me.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: HOLDING ONTO

Subway: spotting
a small girl holding onto a doll,
her mother holding onto her,
the subway holding onto all of us,
and all of us holding onto God,
sometimes spotting the holding.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: WAITER!

I tend to try to keep God
in church or in the stars,
in sunrises and sunsets,
in mountains and the ocean,
or somewhere in the future,
like a week before I die.
I tend to try to keep God
on some other table,
but God has a sense of humor.
What a surprise!
God’s the Waiter!

© Andrew Costello 2007

GLIMPSES OF GOD

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Glimpses of God.”

Looking at our life, what have been those moments – when we felt , “This is good. This is wonderful. This is why God created all this. Thank You God. Thank you.”?

What were the moments when we sensed, felt, were moved inwardly, – felt an “awe” moment – that God was with us – that all was okay.

What have been our glimpses of God?

That’s the theme and that’s the question, that hit me when reflecting on today’s 3 readings.

What have been our glimpses of God?

A KALEIDOSCOPE OF IMAGES

Have they been mountain moments? Have they been ocean moments? Have they been people moments? Have they been hospital moments? Have they been birth or death moments? Have they been tragedy or comedy moments?

What have been our glimpses of God?

Do we feel the presence of God more in the morning or at night - or in the heat of day? Sunrise or sunset? During the week or weekends? During work or on vacation?Do we experience God more in church or at home? Walking or sitting? Alone or with others? In good times or in bad, in sickness or in health?

What have been our glimpses of God?Do they happen more at the age we are now or when we were younger?

TODAY’S FIRST READING

Today’s first reading is interesting. Abraham is on the move. He’s a nomad. The sun is hot. The sand is burning. So he pitched tent in an oasis – near a tree in the desert.

While there, he spots three men – standing there. He runs from the entrance of his tent towards them. He bows to the ground. He asks them if he can help them – if he can show them hospitality. This is the basic rule of nomadic life – especially in the desert. Show hospitality.

So he provides water for them to wash their feet. He calls to Sarah to bake some bread and prepare some food. He runs. He bows. He hastens. Notice the action verbs. He picks from his flock a tender, choice steer. He prepares a great cookout. He serves and feeds them to make their journey smoother.

They ask where his wife, Sarah, is. He says she is in the tent. Women back then (and still today) stay in the back section of tents. One of the three strangers says, “This time next year when we return, Sarah will have had a son.”

It’s wonderful story telling. The message is: show hospitality. The message is: take care of each other. The message is: kindness is a boomerang. If we provide for others, God will provide for us. These stories are presented to us – to give us glimpses of God – how God would like us to be – how God would like us to be with each other.

PAINTING BY RUBLEV
Have you ever noticed in your travels a religious painting of what looks like three angels at a table with a cup in the center of the table. And on the cup is the image of a lamb?

I’ve noticed it from time to time down though the years – on a few prayer cards, in a few retreat houses – in a book by Henri Nouwen – here and there.

I’ve also heard people refer to it as a famous painting. But to be honest, I never really gave the picture much time or study.

I remember vaguely hearing it was by someone named Rublev – from way back.

I looked it up yesterday on Google. Check it out.

For some reason, today’s first reading triggered thoughts about that painting.

Sure enough – the painting is the scene in today’s first reading. The three angels are the three men that Abraham shows hospitality to. The painting is a Russian ikon by Andrei Rublev (c. 1360-1430). The painting is dated at around 1410. It was painted for the Holy Trinity Monastery founded by St. Sergius in Moscow. Today it can be seen in the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow.

As I read up on this painting I got a glimpse on why it is so important. At a time in Russian history, when there was a lot of division, the famous ikon painter Andrei Rublev was asked to paint a picture of the Trinity. Message: God does not want war and division. God wants peace. Message: we are made in the image of God. God is a relationship, a circle of persons. We are a people who are called to relate, to get along with each other, to be a community of people who are united. When we are together at the same table, when we are enjoying life together, it’s heaven. When we are divided, it’s hell. When we are living the way that God imagined us, created us to be, then we have a glimpse of paradise.

How would one paint the Trinity – the invisible God?

Rublev chose the scene from Genesis that we heard in today’s first reading. There are these 3 men who came out of nowhere – who were served by Abraham and Sarah – and were blessed by them. So he painted a scene of 3 men – who look like 3 angels - 3 figures – sitting at one table – with one cup on it. A tree and a building can be seen in the background, but they are not as clear and dramatic as the cup and the 3 men.

Without the literature about the painting, I wouldn’t know this was a painting of the Trinity. Each person in the painting is equal. At first glance, they look somewhat the same. Each person is God. This is symbolized by each person wearing something blue – sky blue. God is in the heavens – like the human tendency to look up to the sky for help - like looking up at our ceiling here at St. Mary’s.

Looking further at the painting, we can see that all three are different by other colors and variations of clothing. Message: God is three persons who are different yet equal. All three are of one nature – God.

Rublev tried to paint a visible image of the invisible God – so we can make visible our dreams for peace and happiness – to be one with God.

The idea of the ikon is to stand before it in prayer.

The idea of an ikon is to sit down to table with it – to enter into the scene, into the ikon and be with the figures in the ikon. It’s the same experience many have sitting here in church in prayer together as a community on Sunday. We enter into church to be with each other as we enter into God. People also sit alone or with a few others downstairs in the adoration chapel to enter into Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

The idea of an ikon is to then stand up and leave the scene and go out and return to our world – into our places of work – into our neighborhoods – into our homes and make real what we just experienced when we were inside the painting.

The idea of Rublev’s ikon was to experience the Trinity – our God in our relationships – being equal as well as being different with each other. The idea of Rublev’s ikon was this: when we show hospitality to others, we will be blessed like Abraham and Sarah in God’s good time.

The idea of Rublev’s ikon is to sit at the Eucharist and see the cup in the center of altar. In Rublev’s ikon, entitled, “The Hospitality of Abraham,” there is a tiny image of the Lamb of God on the cup. One idea is to realize we receive God’s hospitality here at this table and then we go out at the end of the Mass and do the same for the world.

TODAY’S GOSPEL

As I thought about all this I figured that those who picked the first reading – did so to connect it with the famous Martha-Mary story of today’s gospel. Not everyone knows the Abraham story with the 3 men or 3 angels. Not everyone knows the Rublev ikon. Everyone knows the Martha Mary story. This Gospel story of Martha and Mary has many messages.

Continuing my theme of taking time to see glimpses of God, let me spell out one message.

Sometimes we’re Martha; sometimes we’re Mary. Today, Jesus is saying, “Take the part of Mary, especially if you’re doing too much running or complaining. Take the part of Mary. Make sure you find time to sit back and listen; to sit back and observe; to sit back and see better; to step back and hear better. "

Life provides many scenes – many glimpses – many of which we miss. When we stop to see, to listen, to take glimpses of where we are, we can learn an awful lot.

My god-child and niece, Patty, once told me about an interesting thing she discovered in raising kids. There she was a chauffeur. She would pick up her two sons and sometimes their friends after a day in school and take them home or to a game. If you remain quiet, they don’t notice you. Surprise you get glimpses into whom they are. If you listen, you learn so much about your kids and what’s going on in their lives.

At airports I love to just sit there and read people – to people watch – and at times I’d meet the eyes of someone else who was doing the same thing. Smile! You are on Candid Camera.

I learned to watch couples who are celebrating their 25th or 50th wedding anniversaries – or to watch them at the wedding of their kids. Just watching their faces – listening to the comments when folks are at the microphone – seeing tissues and tears – it’s then I realize they are getting glimpses about what their life is all about. It’s then I realize they are having a God moment. They are having a glimpse of God. They might not call it that – but that’s what it is.

I dropped into a family reunion yesterday – for a mom celebrating her 90th birthday. What a great scene of generations of kids flowing from this wonderful woman and her husband. They sat there with great smiles of joy on their faces – as they got great glimpses of God’s gift of life to them and from them.

By preaching on this today, my hope is that the phrase, “Glimpses of God” will be a handy label for many of life’s moments. “Wow! I’m getting a God glimpse here.”

Stop and listen. Stop and see. Shut up and listen. Step back.

The gospel knocks Martha– the image of those who serve us – those who show us hospitality. But I’ve noticed that Marthas also watch. How many times have we been at a restaurant and we look around – and surprise there’s a Hispanic Martha or Jose listening – watching – watching life – and I sit there and run through my mind what they might be thinking about. Are they taking in a glimpse of the stuff of dreams – the joy of also being able to bring my family to a meal like this – to celebrate life like this – and be served?

I’ve also seen the faces of folks who just pulled off a parish dinner or picnic. It’s afterwards. There’s folks in t-shirts and sweat – mustard and catsup stains on their aprons – with 43 big plastic bags lined up near a door to go outside – but first to sit back and laugh – to eat, to drink – to talk about scenes and glimpses from the meal and preparing it – celebrating life. “We did it.”I’m getting a glimpse of God.

Jesus praises Mary for listening. Jesus did a lot of talking and a lot of traveling. In today’s gospel, we have a moment of escape. We have a moment when Jesus tells us about someone who listens to him: Mary.

Isn’t it when we experience someone who actually takes the time to listen to us that we experience a deep joy? It’s heaven. It’s a moment when we realize we are not alone.

A key aspect of hospitality is listening to the guest.

I’ve noticed when people listen in prayer, when I listen in prayer, when I am like Mary more than Martha in prayer, it’s then I sense God in the mix. I’m getting a glimpse of God.

While saying Mass, I’ve noticed after the sermon – sometime during a quiet pause in the Mass - when I shut up – when I look around – that I catch a face, a prayer in a face, a God moment for someone. It’s then I sense God – God as Trinity – God in the multitude. God is here. It’s then I’m getting a glimpse of God.

CONCLUSION

Step back. Step into life’s scenes. See God. Step out of the scene and step back into life – bringing a glimpse of God with you. Amen.

INNER MASS

Lord Jesus, like you,
I start in a sanctuary,
in the womb, the altar of my mother.
Like everyone
I start as egg, the gift of my mother,
and seed, the gift of my father.
I take part in the sacred liturgy
called, “Pregnancy” –
in deep communion
with my mother and father,
primal priests like Mary and the Father.
Holy, Holy, Holy….
Hearing my mother’s heart beat,
hearing her experiencing, “Eucharist!
This is my body….
This is my blood ….
I am giving it to you –
being consecrated in the Spirit …”
I start small, very small, totally needy,
like a wheat seed planted in mother earth,
growing night and day in the long process
of becoming me, becoming bread, becoming body,
becoming blood, till my birth, till I’m ready
to be gift to others, to be daily bread,
eaten up by others,
being what my mother was for me:
Eucharist, Thanksgiving, Life for others,
as I take part in daily
Passion, Death, Resurrection,
giving and going each day in peace
in this Outer Mass called, “Life.” Amen!

© Andrew Costello 2007

PRAYER: UNFINISHED

Lord, I feel so unfinished –
like an unfinished
conversation or basement.
There is so much more to say,
so much more to do. It’s true.
Will anything ever be finished?

Lord, get me to laugh at all this,
because you are never finished.
You are an unfinished Creator,
You are an unfinished Conversation.

© Andrew Costello 2007