MARRIAGE
It takes
two
to triangle.
Paradoxical sayings # 1
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
GRADUATION
Graduation,
and congratulations,
hats or caps tossed
high into the sky
with great abandon.
Who knows where
we’ll all land?
Ten, twenty-five,
fifty years from now,
some of us will be
back to tell our stories –
where we landed,
whom we loved,
and what happened?
There will be laughter,
hugs, and total surprises.
Who’s that over there?
You’re kidding.
Then stunned silence
when we hear about
this one and that one
buried far, far, from where
their cap landed that day.
Graduation,
and congratulations,
hats or caps tossed
high into the sky
with great abandon.
Who knows where
we’ll all land?
Ten, twenty-five,
fifty years from now,
some of us will be
back to tell our stories –
where we landed,
whom we loved,
and what happened?
There will be laughter,
hugs, and total surprises.
Who’s that over there?
You’re kidding.
Then stunned silence
when we hear about
this one and that one
buried far, far, from where
their cap landed that day.
© Andy Costello
Reflections, 2008
Picture on top thanks
to Jennifer Dieux
and St . Mary's Annapolis
Web Site
Sunday, June 8, 2008
SAINT AND SINNER *
[I found today’s readings tricky – wondering last night where to go with a sermon? I knew the church would be hot – so I better not go too long. Then it hit me, “Why not write a story** to try to pull together today’s readings?” So here it is, “Saint and Sinner.”]
St. Rita’s needed a new pastor. The well-loved, long time pastor was retiring. St. Rita’s wasn’t the largest parish in the diocese; nor was it the smallest. The powers that be knew it needed more than one priest – but it didn’t need two priests – at least that was the diagnosis – especially because the priest pool in the diocese was rather thin. What to do?
“Why don’t we move Father Joe Riley from Black Lake?”
“No,” said the bishop. “He could do it. He’s a dynamo – but he’s doing such a great job at Black Lake – and he’s really just getting started there.”
Silence.
There was a lot of finger tapping and chin rubbing at the big table as the clock ticked, ticked, ticked in the diocesan planning room.
“How about putting together three older guys as a team? I heard that has worked in some dioceses, that is, if you can put the right three guys together.”
“No way!”
“Wait a minute. Whom would you suggest?”
“I would think that Bartelli, Manucci and Balboa would work together fine.”
“Are you crazy?” one of the priests at the table said. “They have been great friends all through the years. Why would you want to ruin their friendship and the vacations they always take together – by having them work together?”
“Well, I just thought that the people of Mountainview would love them. They are good guys. They’re close to retirement – and I think they would do good work there – as well as enjoy life together. Why not think outside the box?”
“No way,” said Father Mike Minnelli – three Italians in a mostly Irish parish. Are you crazy?”
“Wait a minute,” said Father Tom Nelson. “Why not put an old guy who’s semi-retired, with a young guy who could use some of an old guy’s experience?”
“But who?” said the bishop.
Silence.
“How about Matt Tobin and that young priest, Father William French?”
Silence. A lot of silence.
“Let’s take a break. Let’s think about it, and let’s come back in fifteen minutes.”
The diocesan team who make these diocesan decisions took their break and mulled over possibilities. Three guys went walking and did a bit of talking. Two guys dropped into the church and said another prayer to the Holy Spirit that they make good decisions for the people of their diocese.
They were back to work in 30 minutes. 15 minute breaks always take 30 minutes at least.
They made their decision. “Why not? Why not give the young guy, Father William French, ordained 3 years – his first pastor’s job – and give him Matt Tobin – ordained 22 years as his assistant?”
Two members of the committee were skeptical – especially when they made a comment or two about Matt’s health. The other 8 members said, “You have to work with what you have.” The bishop said, “Let me give both of them a call and see if they would be open to being at St. Rita’s in Mountainview.”
Both were called and both said, “Yes” – neither knowing each other.
Father William French called Father Matt Tobin that afternoon to ask him if he thought this would work.
Matt had been through a lot. He had seen lots of priests – young, old and in between – in his 22 years as a priest.
He said to Father William French, “Congratulations. It will be an honor to work with you in your first time as pastor. You’ll do fine. And by the way, I better check this out with you before anything else. Would it be a problem with you, if I brought my dog?”
Father French said, “That’s funny. I was just going to ask you the same question. Would it be all right if I brought my dog?”
They both laughed.
They both showed up on August 1st with their stuff and with their dogs. The people in the parish were nervous – wondering what these two priests would be like.
The first piece of news that spread through the parish was: “These two priests are as different as night and day. Father French wears French cuffs and is always in his black suit. Father Tobin is all t-shirt. And you’re going to love this. One has a Rottweiller named 'Saint' and the other has a terrier named 'Sinner'. Now what are the odds for that to happen?”
It worked. The team of Fathers French and Tobin worked well for 8 long years together. It took time for the people of Mountainview to get used to their two new priests – but in time – complaints and comments – suggestions and snipes – all but disappeared.
Silence.
That Saturday morning – St. Rita’s Church was filled. In fact, they had to set up extra speakers
St. Rita’s needed a new pastor. The well-loved, long time pastor was retiring. St. Rita’s wasn’t the largest parish in the diocese; nor was it the smallest. The powers that be knew it needed more than one priest – but it didn’t need two priests – at least that was the diagnosis – especially because the priest pool in the diocese was rather thin. What to do?
“Why don’t we move Father Joe Riley from Black Lake?”
“No,” said the bishop. “He could do it. He’s a dynamo – but he’s doing such a great job at Black Lake – and he’s really just getting started there.”
Silence.
There was a lot of finger tapping and chin rubbing at the big table as the clock ticked, ticked, ticked in the diocesan planning room.
“How about putting together three older guys as a team? I heard that has worked in some dioceses, that is, if you can put the right three guys together.”
“No way!”
“Wait a minute. Whom would you suggest?”
“I would think that Bartelli, Manucci and Balboa would work together fine.”
“Are you crazy?” one of the priests at the table said. “They have been great friends all through the years. Why would you want to ruin their friendship and the vacations they always take together – by having them work together?”
“Well, I just thought that the people of Mountainview would love them. They are good guys. They’re close to retirement – and I think they would do good work there – as well as enjoy life together. Why not think outside the box?”
“No way,” said Father Mike Minnelli – three Italians in a mostly Irish parish. Are you crazy?”
“Wait a minute,” said Father Tom Nelson. “Why not put an old guy who’s semi-retired, with a young guy who could use some of an old guy’s experience?”
“But who?” said the bishop.
Silence.
“How about Matt Tobin and that young priest, Father William French?”
Silence. A lot of silence.
“Let’s take a break. Let’s think about it, and let’s come back in fifteen minutes.”
The diocesan team who make these diocesan decisions took their break and mulled over possibilities. Three guys went walking and did a bit of talking. Two guys dropped into the church and said another prayer to the Holy Spirit that they make good decisions for the people of their diocese.
They were back to work in 30 minutes. 15 minute breaks always take 30 minutes at least.
They made their decision. “Why not? Why not give the young guy, Father William French, ordained 3 years – his first pastor’s job – and give him Matt Tobin – ordained 22 years as his assistant?”
Two members of the committee were skeptical – especially when they made a comment or two about Matt’s health. The other 8 members said, “You have to work with what you have.” The bishop said, “Let me give both of them a call and see if they would be open to being at St. Rita’s in Mountainview.”
Both were called and both said, “Yes” – neither knowing each other.
Father William French called Father Matt Tobin that afternoon to ask him if he thought this would work.
Matt had been through a lot. He had seen lots of priests – young, old and in between – in his 22 years as a priest.
He said to Father William French, “Congratulations. It will be an honor to work with you in your first time as pastor. You’ll do fine. And by the way, I better check this out with you before anything else. Would it be a problem with you, if I brought my dog?”
Father French said, “That’s funny. I was just going to ask you the same question. Would it be all right if I brought my dog?”
They both laughed.
They both showed up on August 1st with their stuff and with their dogs. The people in the parish were nervous – wondering what these two priests would be like.
The first piece of news that spread through the parish was: “These two priests are as different as night and day. Father French wears French cuffs and is always in his black suit. Father Tobin is all t-shirt. And you’re going to love this. One has a Rottweiller named 'Saint' and the other has a terrier named 'Sinner'. Now what are the odds for that to happen?”
It worked. The team of Fathers French and Tobin worked well for 8 long years together. It took time for the people of Mountainview to get used to their two new priests – but in time – complaints and comments – suggestions and snipes – all but disappeared.
Silence.
That Saturday morning – St. Rita’s Church was filled. In fact, they had to set up extra speakers
and TV monitors in the hall for the overflow crowd from the church. It was the funeral Mass for Father Matt Tobin. He died suddenly last Tuesday while visiting a nursing home with his boots on – yes boots – and everyone was there at the funeral – including his dog, “Saint” – sitting in his regular place – in front of the pulpit – next to his buddy, “Sinner” the terrier.
And Father Bill French - yes, his name switched from William to Bill in about a year’s time – along with the disappearance of the French cuffs – and black suit jacket – except for funerals, weddings and formal occasions. Most of the time it was his blue St. Rita’s jacket – a gift the parish had given to both he and Father Matt their first Christmas there.
Father French stood there in the pulpit – with the bishop and personnel board – and about 40 other priests – sitting there in the front benches wondering what kind of a preacher he was – and what he would say about Father Matt Tobin – so, so different from him.
Father Bill began. “Eight years ago – when Matt and I were put together as an experiment – I wondered – I really wondered if this would work out. We were as different as our dogs – a Rottweiller and a Terrier – Saint and Sinner – sitting here in front of the pulpit this morning."
Silence! The parish was used to these dogs sometimes attending Mass; sometimes not. The bishop and the priests were somewhat taken back.
The Bishop wondered to himself, “Was there a Canon Law or a diocesan regulation somewhere that priests could not have their dogs in the sanctuary at Mass?”
Father Bill continued:
“Matt taught me not only how to be a priest; he taught me how to be a human being.
“I was too stiff, too formal, too stuck on my self. I was wine; Matt was Budweiser. I was upper crust; Matt was crumb. That’s not my description. That was Matt’s of us.
“For today’s gospel, I chose the call of Matthew from his Gospel – not just because of Father Matt – but because he often told me in our many late night chats together – that he loved St. Matthew – because before he became a priest, he too was a sinner like St. Matthew. You all know he didn’t enter the priesthood till after his 12 years in the army – two tours in Vietnam – his 4 years of floundering after that - his ‘tour of sins’ as he called them, his mistakes –– till he finally realized Jesus calls sinners and eats with them.
“He brought all his experiences – sins and talents - with him into the priesthood, so that everyone felt at home with him.
“That first year, I felt so inferior to him – till he helped me and so many people in this parish who took ourselves too seriously to relax and become at home with ourselves. And he taught us this without saying a word.”
The whole church exploded with “Amen’s” at that. The bishop and priests up front – were completely surprised – not knowing whether to laugh or what. They didn’t have the St. Rita Experience – where each Sunday liturgy was better or different than the week before. The unspoken slogan, the unwritten mission statement for the parish was, “If these two guys, and these two dogs, can be so friendly, we all can be friendly with each other.”
Father Bill went on:
“I was opera; he was country western. But guess what, he went with me at least once a year to the opera and I went with him to a country western concert once - only once?
“I was 'Rush!'; he was 'Slow down!'
“I was main highways; he was back roads.
“I was into climbing the ladder of success; he taught me there are no ladders when it comes to love.
“He taught me the meaning of the Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew – words that Jesus stole from the Prophet Hosea, “It is mercy and love that I desire, not sacrifice.” Till I met Matt those were just words. I saw him make those words real – with his seeing people as people. We’re all sinners – all needy, all needing and wanting and hungry for a place at God’s table. I was a Pharisee without knowing how taxing I could be to others. I was sacrificing my life for the Church without knowing my face and my attitude was lacking the message: we’re all here because we need to love and be loved and understand and accept each other.
“Matt taught me that Jesus laughed. He was fond of saying, ‘You’ll never find it written in the scriptures that Jesus laughed – but every time we learn to laugh at ourselves, listen, and you’ll hear Jesus laughing along with you.’"
Silence.
“Matt told me I preach too long, so I better end right now. Can’t you hear him going, ‘Hm, hm,’ in the casket there?
“I want to thank God for a wonderful priest, Father Matthew Tobin – known to all of us here at St. Rita’s as Matt.
“The parish wants to thank the Bishop and the personnel board – or whoever it was that came up with the crazy idea 8 years ago of putting together a Saint with this Sinner. Thank you. Amen.”
And Father Bill French - yes, his name switched from William to Bill in about a year’s time – along with the disappearance of the French cuffs – and black suit jacket – except for funerals, weddings and formal occasions. Most of the time it was his blue St. Rita’s jacket – a gift the parish had given to both he and Father Matt their first Christmas there.
Father French stood there in the pulpit – with the bishop and personnel board – and about 40 other priests – sitting there in the front benches wondering what kind of a preacher he was – and what he would say about Father Matt Tobin – so, so different from him.
Father Bill began. “Eight years ago – when Matt and I were put together as an experiment – I wondered – I really wondered if this would work out. We were as different as our dogs – a Rottweiller and a Terrier – Saint and Sinner – sitting here in front of the pulpit this morning."
Silence! The parish was used to these dogs sometimes attending Mass; sometimes not. The bishop and the priests were somewhat taken back.
The Bishop wondered to himself, “Was there a Canon Law or a diocesan regulation somewhere that priests could not have their dogs in the sanctuary at Mass?”
Father Bill continued:
“Matt taught me not only how to be a priest; he taught me how to be a human being.
“I was too stiff, too formal, too stuck on my self. I was wine; Matt was Budweiser. I was upper crust; Matt was crumb. That’s not my description. That was Matt’s of us.
“For today’s gospel, I chose the call of Matthew from his Gospel – not just because of Father Matt – but because he often told me in our many late night chats together – that he loved St. Matthew – because before he became a priest, he too was a sinner like St. Matthew. You all know he didn’t enter the priesthood till after his 12 years in the army – two tours in Vietnam – his 4 years of floundering after that - his ‘tour of sins’ as he called them, his mistakes –– till he finally realized Jesus calls sinners and eats with them.
“He brought all his experiences – sins and talents - with him into the priesthood, so that everyone felt at home with him.
“That first year, I felt so inferior to him – till he helped me and so many people in this parish who took ourselves too seriously to relax and become at home with ourselves. And he taught us this without saying a word.”
The whole church exploded with “Amen’s” at that. The bishop and priests up front – were completely surprised – not knowing whether to laugh or what. They didn’t have the St. Rita Experience – where each Sunday liturgy was better or different than the week before. The unspoken slogan, the unwritten mission statement for the parish was, “If these two guys, and these two dogs, can be so friendly, we all can be friendly with each other.”
Father Bill went on:
“I was opera; he was country western. But guess what, he went with me at least once a year to the opera and I went with him to a country western concert once - only once?
“I was 'Rush!'; he was 'Slow down!'
“I was main highways; he was back roads.
“I was into climbing the ladder of success; he taught me there are no ladders when it comes to love.
“He taught me the meaning of the Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew – words that Jesus stole from the Prophet Hosea, “It is mercy and love that I desire, not sacrifice.” Till I met Matt those were just words. I saw him make those words real – with his seeing people as people. We’re all sinners – all needy, all needing and wanting and hungry for a place at God’s table. I was a Pharisee without knowing how taxing I could be to others. I was sacrificing my life for the Church without knowing my face and my attitude was lacking the message: we’re all here because we need to love and be loved and understand and accept each other.
“Matt taught me that Jesus laughed. He was fond of saying, ‘You’ll never find it written in the scriptures that Jesus laughed – but every time we learn to laugh at ourselves, listen, and you’ll hear Jesus laughing along with you.’"
Silence.
“Matt told me I preach too long, so I better end right now. Can’t you hear him going, ‘Hm, hm,’ in the casket there?
“I want to thank God for a wonderful priest, Father Matthew Tobin – known to all of us here at St. Rita’s as Matt.
“The parish wants to thank the Bishop and the personnel board – or whoever it was that came up with the crazy idea 8 years ago of putting together a Saint with this Sinner. Thank you. Amen.”
* I found the pictures of these two dogs on the internet - under Terrier and Rottweiller
** Someone asked me after Mass if this story is true - and I blurted out, "It is a totally made up story. It's fiction. I have nobody and no place in mind."
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