Friday, November 16, 2007

PSYCHIATRIST AND PRIEST

Her story was pockmarked with tears and fears,
pauses and becauses – lots of becauses,
some making me nervous. I never know what
to say. Listening is much easier.
Without knowing it, my fingernails
were scraping the accumulated dark sweat dirt
of the underneath of the wooden armrest
of the chair I was sitting on –
a chair that so many others have also sat in.
Once a month, as I listened to her story
on these Friday afternoons,
we slowly discovered the bottom of the why
she had come to see me in the first place.
She was a book and by the 10th chapter,
the 10th time I listened to her,
I got glimpses of my own story
and so many other’s stories in her story.
But there was one story, one chapter, missing.
This was the empty moment –
the coming to the edge of the cliff moment –
the “Okay, what’s next?” moment.
I am not a psychiatrist. I am a priest,
so Easter is the message of all this sitting
in this tiny talking room.
If she wanted to hear Good News,
she had to realize she couldn’t stop at Friday,
at the cross. None of 4 gospels end
at Calvary - the place of the skull.
There’s always the Easter Sunday Morning Moment
when she had to walk to the place of the cave,
the tomb, and meet the Gardener. (Cf. John 21)
She rose in awe, now having a glimpse
of what she had to do, whom she had to meet,
– and it was only then
that I felt the underneath of the armrest.
I had accidentally scraped a cross there
as I sat with her all these Friday afternoons.
I too needed to experience Easter.
I too needed an Upper Room experience.
Healing only happens when Christ
comes through the thick walls
of our fears, of our thick skull,
our upper room, and says,
“Shalom! Peace be with you!”



© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

NOVEMBER LEAVES

November leaves –
beautiful before their fall,
then down on the ground
like the dead
in so many silent cemeteries.
They had their time –
buds, blossoms, steady solid
green and then
their final splash of color –
death –
the November leaves
finally coming to their rest
in bushes, in corners,
some raked into piles,
then cremated, sending
sweet incense into the steel blue sky,
but most stuck somewhere
for the winter, as November
turns into December – and snow,
then the long cold time till spring,
resurrection.
It’s good to stop to see the leaves.
It’s good to have November
a time to remember those
who have fallen before us.




© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007


THE SUN

The little girl kept reaching out
trying to grab the ball of sun,
but she couldn’t reach it and
nobody would bounce it to her.

In fact, it had disappeared
when she went to the window
after supper to look at it once again.

She began to cry,
fisting her hands into her eyes
and when she looked again,
it still wasn’t there
and all her life
she thought she had done it.


© Andy Costello, Poems, 2007

Thursday, November 15, 2007

PROPER BURIAL


She was out picking berries –
her leather satchel had
the hardened remains.
The anthropologists figured
it was a land slide and she
was buried down deep
under dirt and rock
what figures like 1400 years ago -
way up there
in the cold north country.
What did her family go through
when she didn’t return – when
she totally disappeared?
Now, she can be seen
even if it’s behind glass
in a proper tomb in a museum.
Visitors stand there
for a few moments reading
the laminated words
about her discovery
in a mining excavation.
No tears. No pain. No funeral.
At least now we know what
happened to one of our family
that day a long time ago.
Who else is out there?
Who else is missing?
How long does it take
to discover, to dig up,
to uncover another’s story,
another's disappearance
from our life?


© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

OLD PORCH CHAIR

The paint is peeling
off the old porch chair.
I guess choosing to sit
out here all the time
it never gets a chance
to see all those new
long lasting paints
they advertise on T.V.


© Andy Costello, Poems 2007

Monday, November 12, 2007

HANDICAPPED

He was handicapped;
she was half a person;
all they knew how to do
was complain. Let us pray....



© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

SEASONS

Autumn leaves,
some tan, some brown,
some rather unnoticed,
huddled and cornered
trying to keep warm
outside the red brick school,
parents and grandparents,
looking at their watches,
waiting for the afternoon
school bell to sound and
send out to them
hundreds of kids,
running out into the cold,
kids unaware of age and autumn,
kids in their long spring,
kids, a long time till
they are like their parents
and grandparents, autumn leaves,
some tan, some brown,
some rather unnoticed,
after a long hot summer of life,
now huddled and cornered,
trying to keep warm
outside red brick schools.


© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007



JOB 38 – 39:
A LESSER TRANSLATION

Who teaches the solitary bird
how to fly across an early morning sky?

Who erases the footprints
off the sandy beach during the night?

Who decides on red
for some following mornings?

Who paints the sky,
when it's New Mexico blue?

Who designed babies hands, a woman’s
bend and a 90 year old grandfather’s smile?

Who? Oh You, it’s You.
You again and again. Thank You.

© Andy Costello Reflections, 2007
LOST UMBRELLA


Outside, up above,
it was a rainy day.
Inside, down below,
it was dry.
Here I am
on my way
in a subway.
Someone left an umbrella.
It was left on a seat.
3 or 4 people with umbrellas saw it.
A Chinese lady watching my eyes,
said to me, “Take it.”
I didn’t.
I didn’t need one.
I said, “You take it.”
With a smile
she pointed to the one she had.
It was an old umbrella –
a bit beaten up.
Then I realized
she was free.
The train came to a stop.
The door opened.
A man sitting there with 2 umbrellas
stood up and grabbed this 1 umbrella.
We all watched him
as he left our train.
We all wondered,
"What does one do
with 3 umbrellas
in the rain?"
The Chinese lady smiled
all the way to the next stop.


© Andy Costello, Poems 2007

JOHN 21


God appeared to me
first in black velvet,
then in green moss,
God walking around
the ground outside my house,
leaving soft silent impressions,
footprints, footsteps,
indentations in my life,
then God got louder,
coming through my walls,
morning music from a backyard bird,
an ambulance screaming, howling,
waking me up in the middle of the night,
then JESUS, THE MORNING LIGHT,
dawned on me – coming through
my eastern window
inviting me to stop fishing,
to drop everything,
to come ashore and eat with him,
and I woke up and said,
“It is the Lord.”
And after the feast
he said, “Feed the others.”



© Andy Costello
Reflections, 2007

Sunday, November 11, 2007


REMEMBRANCE 
AND RESURRECTION



INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Remembrance and Resurrection.”

Today’s readings are complicated. A friend of mine named Sylvia was telling me. “After hearing the readings, I said to myself, I wonder what the priest is going to say about all this today. Best of luck. Wooo!”

Today’s readings are end of the Church Year readings. We have this theme of the end of the world or what have you issues every year at this time. Then we come to Advent and its theme of new beginnings and the coming of Christ the first time at Christmas – which trigger thoughts of Christ’s Second Coming as well. The Early Church didn’t know whether Christ was going to come back soon – if the world was about to end – or what have you?– so the writings can be confusing. As we read these readings, we see some people starting to have doubts about when the end will come. We hear folks trying to give other folks hope – the hope that comes in, through, and with Christ. (If you have time, check Luke 21; Matthew 24-25; Mark 13; 1 Thessalonians 5: 1-11; 2 Corinthians 5:1-10; 2 Peter 3.)

Today’s readings can also be tied into November thoughts and feelings – here in the Northern Hemisphere – leaves changing, dying and falling to the ground with winter coming – thoughts of praying for our dead buried in our ground or what have you? Then today – Veteran’s Day – we’re remembering the many who died in service for our country and our world.

Today’s readings are tough readings for a homily – what to say, where to go – how to help with some food for thought for this Sabbath and for this week.

So let me go with “Remembrance and Resurrection” and see where this takes us.

AS WE AGE AND GET OLDER: TWO QUESTIONS


As we age and get older, as we face life having term limits – those two sets of numbers on our tomb stone – as we wonder about death at times, we get two thoughts – two questions: “Will I be remembered?” and “Is there resurrection and life after death?”

Remembrance and Resurrection.

We remember our dead. The roads of life have those many white crosses where people have been killed in car accidents. Every newspaper has its obituary column. We have our cemeteries. And every year we go to 3, 4, 5, funerals – and more as we age.

Remembrance and resurrection questions pop up at times: Will I be remembered? Did I make a difference? What did my life mean to those I was with? What is my legacy? Does anyone know I was here? What happens when we die? Is there resurrection and new life after this or is this all there is?


TODAY’S FIRST READING

Today’s first reading tells the story of one of the many genocide stories this planet has recorded. The history of the world is written in red ink, red blood – when it records massacres of Kurds in Iraq, Iran and Turkey, Armenians in Turkey, Jews in Germany, Poland, Austria and Russia, Moslems in the Balkans, Africans in various Africa countries, and as slaves in places where they were brought to and sold, Native People in Mexico, Darfur, North and South America and all around the world.

Today’s first reading from 2 Maccabees tells the story of seven brothers and their mother who were arrested, tortured, abused, and killed because of their beliefs, because of who they are.

Today’s first reading is a written remembrance somewhere around 140 BC and in this written statement we hear people talking resurrection after death.

We have no proof that there is life after death – if there is resurrection – but there has always been the argument – that if God is a God of love, then God will give new life to those who have been gunned down, gassed to death, raped and murdered because of who they are, what they believed in or what have you?

It’s an argument based on basic fairness.

There is no proof that there is life after death – but human beings down through the centuries have made an act of faith in a God of fairness – that God better be aware of little children who have been crushed and burnt or shot – that God better be aware of the millions and millions of people – whom the world never knew their names – because they were killed and slaughtered without ever being able to have a full life - the dead – especially those who have suffered – or were aborted or suicide bombed or what have you?

TODAY’S GOSPEL

Today’s gospel remembers an incident in the life of Jesus when some Sadducees tried to ridicule Jesus with this tricky – I’m going to get you with this question – question.

Luke records the conversation and gives a very rabbinic type story. This woman marries seven brothers all of whom die – none of whom gave her a child – which the Jewish law demanded the next brother better marry – so she can bring forth a child in that brother’s memory.

Then the question: “If there is a resurrection of the dead, whose wife will she be? Remember all seven were married to her.”

The Sadducees didn’t believe in life after death, so they were trying to mock resurrection and life after death by their cute question.

And Jesus bypasses all they are saying, by saying, “In the new age, in the next life, there is no marriage and remarriage, but all those who are deemed worthy to inherit eternal life, will inherit it. It will be life – risen life in God – life with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob – and all those with the Lord who have gone before us.

As Christians we believe that Jesus is the one we know by faith who came back from the dead.

We look at Jesus, the crucified one, on the cross, the one who died a horrible death without children at 33 or so. We believe this one is the Lord of the Hereafter.

St. Paul will say in so many words, “If this is not true, leave this church right now, because we’re stupid to believe in all we believe.” [Cf. 1 Corinthians 15]

If Jesus was just a historical figure, like Moses or Michelangelo or Montezuma, then it’s nice we’re here today celebrating his memory – eating a piece of bread in memory of a great man – who taught us and challenged us with some powerful stories, teachings and sayings.

But nice is not enough….

We are here because we believe in more.

We believe the Risen Lord is here. We believe Jesus is present in the bread and in each other.

We believe Jesus is the one who will take us over the waters of death to the shore of eternity.

So resurrection is crucial – and I believe it’s much more crucial than remembrance.

REMEMBRANCE

Yet we remember Jesus.


And we want to be remembered.

The most basic way of being remembered is being a parent.

Children are a thousand times better than a tombstone with our name on it - as a way of saying, “I was here.”

What about us who never had a child?

I chose to become a priest and a Redemptorist long before I consciously – very consciously, chose celibacy. I took vows to go this way in 1960 and got ordained in 1965 at the age of 25. But like many priests ten years later – especially in the 1970’s, as well as being like most human beings in their mid 30’s, who aren’t married and don’t have children, it hit me, “I am not bringing children into the world with this life choice.”

I was ordained with 16 others and half left the priesthood.

Bringing children into the world is a down deep way of being remembered.

AUDIO TAPE

While driving along alone once, I remember listening to an audio tape of a talk by Sidney Simon – of Values Clarification Fame. He was asking a group of young adults on a stage before a large group of people at an education conference in Kentucky, the following question: “If you died, what would the world be missing?”

It’s the same question that evokes tears every Christmas in the movie, “It’s A Wonderful Life.” George Bailiey discovers that by not existing the town where he lived would be very different. His wife, Mary Hatch Bailey, would have been single all her life, and a dozen other key things would never have happened.” The premise is obvious. Yet we still cry.

Well, at that education conference, Sidney Simon asks this young man, “If you died, what would the world miss?”

Silence. Then the young man gives a vague. hesitating, “Yes the world would miss things.”

Sidney Simon pushes, “Would miss what?”

And this young man said, “My friends would miss someone who loves to go to the race track. They would miss someone who likes to bust them with funny jokes and go, ‘Ha Ha!’.” And on and on and on this young man spoke of little personal things the world would miss if he was gone.

That question hit me.

I turned the tape off and thought about the question.

I’m trying to evoke in you the times that question has hit you.

I’m trying to evoke in you a looking at your history – that you listen to the stories of your life.

I spent 14 years of my life in two different retreat houses – 7 years in each – and each year a couple of thousand people who make weekend retreats and some high school kids would make mid-week retreats.

I spent 8 ½ years of my life on the road preaching and giving retreats all over the country – especially in Ohio.

I did lots of other things.

Is it all worth it?

Will I be remembered?

In my early years, to be remembered was more important than it is now. I couldn’t admit that when I was younger.

A priest is called a Father. Now, like every human being, I hope what I am doing as a human being helps other human beings. That’s parenting.

When I preach I don’t want to be the message. I just hope my way of reshaping the gospel and the readings makes it Good News to al of you who are sitting here.

Yesterday I preached at two weddings. My first hope is that the experience is not a disaster, not one more boring experience or blah experience or negative experience for many folks who enter churches a few times a year – if that.

I hope married folks will think of their marriage.

I hope people say, “That was the best wedding I was ever at.”

I hope people say, “Maybe I ought to get to church more?”

I hope people talk to themselves – and maybe even with God – about God in their lives.

I don’t want to be the message – any more than a father or a mother wants to be thought of. They just want to see their children joyful and doing well and life goes on and on and on.

At weddings I watch the front rows on both sides of the aisle – where parents and grandparents are sitting – and I’m trying to read their minds. The main thought I often here is this: “Seeing my child or grandkid today getting married makes my life make sense. Thank You, God. Thank You.”

That’s how I see remembrance.


As to resurrection – now I’m back to me. I laugh because I’ve discovered that celibacy is more about proclaiming resurrection than remembrance.


CONCLUSION

Next, and last, because I don’t know how to end this sermon, I’m back to Jesus. Now I say: “Death is the big letting go. I have to do that – but not yet, not yet, please God. Resurrection is the big act of faith and hope and trust, because what happens after death, is all up to God.”