NARRATIVE

During both the Democratic and Republican national conventions, the word “narrative” was used when talking about upcoming speeches by the candidates for both the president and vice president.

Tell us your story. Tell us who you are. Tell us where you are coming from. Tell us why you are here.

Narrative.

Some folks don’t want narrative. They don’t want spin. They don’t want negative campaigns. They don’t want name calling. They want clear speech and clear plans on issues.

So a question I ask: can we have both?

In this blog piece I’m looking at narrative.

The candidates told us something about themselves. They told us some of their story.

Reporters will be doing the same – trying to find out as much as possible about candidates. My hope for the press is something I read in a recent op-ed piece. The press needs to report on the battles not be part of the battle. “Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

Let me get back to narrative?

Some people want to hear the narrative, the stories of those who are running for national office.

What about us getting in touch with our story – our life?

In 1999, Tom Brokaw woke a lot of people up to the importance of telling their story. Check out his book: The Greatest Generation. There were all these people moving closer and closer to death – and they didn’t tell their story – about what they went through in World War II. His book helped to get people to tell their story.

The result was wonderful. Veterans of World War II were taped. They were invited into classrooms where they could tell another generation about what they experienced. People found out what was locked up inside the memories of a whole generation of Americans. I hope a similar thing happened in England, France, Italy, Poland, Russia, Germany, Japan, the Philippines, and all those places where that war took place.

Starting in 2003, Dave Isay did a similar thing with the StoryCorps Project – providing a method to help people tell their story. You go to a recording booth – some are mobile trailers that travel around the country. You bring a family member – mom, dad, a grandparent – and enter the booth. It’s a place where there is a microphone and a recorder. A facilitator tells you what to do. The recorder is turned on. For about 40 minutes the questioner asks the person they brought the questions they want to ask. “Two broadcast-quality CDs” are created. One goes into the StoryCorps archives; the other goes home with you. If you haven’t cried tears of joy lately, buy the Deluxe Gift Collection – a book and CD – of stories entitled, “Listening Is an Act of Love.”

In the back of the book you can find “Favorite StoryCorps Questions."

“What was the happiest moment in your life? The saddest?

Who was the most important person in your life?

Who has been the biggest influence on your life? What lessons did this person teach you?

Who has been the kindest to you in your life?

What are the most important lessons you’ve learned?

What is your earliest memory?

What is your favorite memory of me?

If you could hold on to one memory from your life for eternity, what would that be?

Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along to me?

What are you proudest of in your life?

How would you like to be remembered?

Do you have any regrets?

What does your future hold?

Is there anything about me that you’ve always wanted to know but never asked?

Turn the tables: This is your chance to tell the person you’re interviewing what you’ve learned from him or her and what that person means to you.”

Then it adds, “You can find more StoryCorps questions at www.storycorps.net/. You can also find information on how to record an interview yourself.”

Erik Eriksson said the last stage of life is Ego Integrity vs. Despair. A person can despair if he or she doesn’t see spiritual meaning, reason, order about their life.

I often ask people, “Have you ever written your autobiography?”

Some have said with a smile on their face, “Yes!”

Motives vary. Some do it for themselves; some do it as a way of passing down to their kids what they learned, their legacy, their wisdom, what they think life is all about. I think folks automatically start doing their autobiography – not necessarily writing it – after 55.

“Go figure!”

They take time to figure out who they are, where they are from and how they got to where they are.

Narrative.

There are many ways to put together one’s story.

Let me provide some suggestions. I’ll also track down an article I wrote about “Autobiography” years ago and make it a separate blog entry.

Get a spiral pad – a notebook – from the supermarket stationary section – or Staples – Office Depot – K-Mart or Wal-Mart.

Start jotting down your memories.

If you use a computer, make a folder called “Autobiography.”

Then start putting in the stories of your life.

If you start doing this, surprise! More and more memories come down the river.

To trigger the process, read other people’s autobiographies, memoirs, diaries as well as biographies. Libraries have lots of them.

They will give you possible chapter headings and ways to line things up.

You are not writing it for anyone but yourself.

If you find yourself looking for time to get to the computer and/or your spiral pad, you’re onto something that has energy and interest.

If you stick to it, you’re really into it.

If you find yourself talking to your spouse or parents (if alive) or brothers and sisters, you’re caught. I remember asking my sister Mary, "Who were the people on our street in Brooklyn (62nd Street between 3rd and 4th Avenues) when we were kids?" I drew boxes for all the houses on both sides with address numbers and then filled in the boxes with names. The exercise triggered various memories and moments.

Start with a scratch sheet. Don’t be scared to cross out and make corrections.

Fascinating. It can be much more interesting than many programs on TV.

Another trick is draw time lines.

Just draw a line across a piece of paper or on a page in your spiral pad and put your birthday on one end – and today’s date on the other end. You can list that page: “schools”. You put down the schools you were in. Who are the teachers you remember? Who are the classmates you remember? Pop! Up pops the memory of winning a spelling bee in the 6th grade. Up pops a name. “What ever happened to what’s her name?”

On other pages you can draw other time lines with headings such as these: “Jobs”, “Friends”, “Vacations”, "Houses", “TV programs”, “Songs”, “Cars”, “Dogs”, “Religion” – and on and on and on.

When people go for therapy, sometimes the therapist does the same thing – getting people to look at their relationships history, their sexual history, their “tears” history, their family history, their body history, etc., etc., etc. Tell me your story?

Hopefully, the overall experience is an experience of gratitude and grace.

One great question is: “What were your epiphany moments?” These are the eye openers, the insight moments, the “aha!” moments. “Oh my God, Santa Claus doesn’t exist!” “You’re kidding. The Stork Explanation isn’t true.”

Another trick is to get out all your photos and photo albums. Get them from everywhere – closets, under beds, attics, etc. Looking for a great project for one’s old age. Save those photos. Scan them into a computer. Organize them. Enhance them. Fix them. Label them. Indicate who’s who before it’s too late and they are tossed when you have passed away.

You’ll cry. You get in touch with some tough stuff along with the great memories.

As Christians forgiveness is a major theme. We make mistakes in life. We are hurt in life. We get cuts and scars.

If someone likes to read scripture, several sections of scripture can be very helpful. The story of the woman at the well in Chapter 4 of the Gospel of John is a great text to read. The woman ends up saying, “Come and meet someone who knows everything I’ve ever done.” The story of the disciples on the way to Emmaus in the 24th Chapter of the Gospel of Luke is also excellent. Jesus unfolds his whole story to them and they are burning with story. One great lesson is that it’s long afterwards that we see that our story makes sense. Or as someone said, “Don’t write in your diary what happened that day. You won’t know what really happened till a month or years from how.”

In the meanwhile, jot.

If you’ve ever been at an A.A. [Alcoholics Anonymous] meeting you soon discover the power of narrative. Members get up, tell who they are, “I’m John and I’m an alcoholic.” Then they tell their story, sometimes called their “drunkalogue”.

And the captive audience hears some of their story as they listen to another’s story.

Narrative.

If you start walking the steps in A.A. you come to the 4th step – “Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” This can be an incredible moment. It's autobiography. It's confession. It's the story of one's life. You put down on paper an inventory of your life. You vet yourself.

Then when that is finished – a person chooses to take the 5th step, “Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”

Sometimes folks revisit their 4th step - because as they grow in A.A. spirituality - they see a lot more than they saw years earlier.

A.A. has many great sayings, One powerful one is: “We are as sick as our secrets.”

I’m not an alcoholic. I never drank. However, as priest, I have had the profound and humbling experience many times of hearing a person make their 5th step – telling me their life story. It's told in utmost confidence - as sacred as in the Sacrament of Reconciliation - and I would add that it's my experience that it's much more deeper and profound. I pinched myself many times while listening to someone telling me who they are and what has happened so far.

“Wow!”

Enough already. Start writing…. start typing your narrative. Start narrating your story to yourself.

© Andy Costello, 2008

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

It was September 16th. I have the day marked on my calendar. She told me her name. It was the first time she was ever asked to be in charge of organizing a nun’s retreat. Then she said, “I have your name listed here as giving the retreat next year: June 16th to the 25th.” I said, “Yes.” Then she asked, “What is your theme?”

She caught me completely off guard - completely. I don’t even know what I am going to do tomorrow. I don’t even know what I am going to preach on next Sunday? She wanted to know the theme for a retreat for next year - a retreat nine months from now!

I made a mistake. I gave her a theme. There was a book sitting on my desk, an autobiography, right there next to the phone. So I said, “The theme will be `Autobiography’.”

She said back to me, “Autobiography?”

It sounded like she had a question mark after the word, so I repeated, “Yes, autobiography.”

She finished the phone call with a hesitant, “Okay. Thank you.”

After I hung up, I said, “Uh oh!” Anyway I jotted down on my calendar the word “autobiography” and then forgot about it.

Next April it hit me that I better start preparing for the retreat. Theme? What’s a good theme? Then I remembered that I jotted something down on my calendar. There it was, “Autobiography.”

What do I say about autobiography? Silence. So I started to reflect and look at every autobiography that I could find. Surprise! In a month I had enough material for 16 talks - two talks a day for an 8 day nuns’ retreat on the theme of “autobiography”. As I was packing for the retreat, just in case, I threw into a cardboard box about 10 autobiographies. Thank God I was traveling by car.

Looking back afterwards, like most retreats that I have given, I think I got the most out of it. Autobiographies, Memoirs, Journals, Diaries, are fascinating reading. Turn off the TV; read someone’s diary!

I once made a workshop on how to keep a journal: using the Ira Progoff method of journal keeping. You might have seen his Intensive Journal Workshops advertised here and there. It’s great stuff on how to keep a journal - an Intensive Journal. Basically you’re taught how to do an autobiography or a diary. For example, you keep a daily log, jotting down what happened to you that day. But you also learn how to map out the main stepping stones of your life as well as your dreams. You’re also taught how to dialogue on paper with the significant people in your life, absent or present, alive or dead. It’s a neat way of doing one’s story. That workshop way back in 1974 has taught me to keep a journal or diary ever since.

Autobiography. Everyone, well not everyone, keeps an autobiography. Most people don’t write it down, but scratch a person, and you’ll scratch a memory. We know our stories, chapter and verse. We know the significant things that have happened to us so far. We have our halls of fame and our halls of shame, the stuff of our life that we don’t mind talking about and the stuff that we want to keep hidden forever. Isn’t that what makes us all so interesting?

Autobiography. Everyone has their memorabilia: ash trays and shells and souvenirs from the trips of our life. Everyone has a place: a box under the bed or on the top shelf of a closet, a bottom drawer, a trunk in the attic, where they keep their secret stuff. We also have our public stuff: photo albums, pictures on book shelves or on end tables or on tops of televisions, diplomas and degrees and awards framed or laminated on our walls, trophies in cabinets for winning softball tournaments or twirling contests. Our homes and our hearts are filled with the stuff that makes autobiography.

Autobiography. Everyone has a right to have a home or an apartment, a place and a space, to keep their souvenirs and their trophies, the reminders of their story - that place we call home. Everyone has a right to a porch or a bench in the summertime where with family or friends we can listen to each other’s story. We need to listen to each other, to be willing to turn off the TV and ruminate with ice tea or lemonade or beer or wine, to shoot the breeze and tell each other our stories. Isn’t that what all those men are doing who sit in the corner bar night after night, hour after hour after hour?

Autobiography. Who are the people in your life who are willing to tell you their story? Who are the people you would love to tell your story to?

Autobiography. Have you ever thought about writing down your autobiography - putting it down on paper or into a computer? If you have a computer, there is a program called “Memories” It helps you line up your story - your childhood, schooling, moving you through all the stages of your life. There are also programs that help you line up your family tree as well as your roots. Simone Weil wrote a whole book on The Need For Roots. She saw the horror of uprootedness in Europe because of World War II. She said, “To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul.” (p. 43).

I remember one time thinking, “As an adult I never sat down with my dad and listened to his story.” My dad was very quiet - as introverted as an owl. So one evening I asked him to tell me his story. At one point I said, “Dad, let me get paper and pencil. This stuff is worth jotting down.” My dad, the introvert, had begun to extrovert his story to me. He told me about starting in Ireland and then coming to America with only $25 and one suit. He recalled that they had told him, “When you see America, put on a clean set of underwear and put on your good suit. Then put your old underwear in a paper bag and throw it overboard.” My father dumped dirty underwear in the Boston Harbor on May 9, 1925. He told me about looking for work in Boston, Portland (Maine), Philadelphia, and finally settling in New York City. He told me about writing letter after letter to my mom in Boston asking her to marry him. She kept on putting him off. Most of his life he worked for the National Biscuit Company in New York City, unloading flour, sugar and all those tasty ingredients that make up those great cookies by Nabisco.

Those notes on pieces of paper are precious ingredients, because my dad’s life is part of my life. A good part of his story is my story. Parts of his autobiography are my autobiography.

As I take time out to put together the story of my life, I discover that I have memories of my dad that I didn’t know I had. They were just sitting there ready to be recalled. My dad loved poetry. One day, there I was a little kid, opening up a book of poems that my dad loved. Inside on a certain page was a dried up red rose petal. I never saw such a thing in my whole life as a dead rose petal inside a book. I went to my dad, who was sitting there in his favorite chair. Pointing to the dark red petal, I asked, “Dad, what’s this?” My dad was known for his smile, but when I pointed to the rose petal he had an even bigger smile. Now, every time I picture my dad, I picture him in that chair, that day, wearing his light blue work shirt, with that smile. I always hear his one word answer to my question why anyone would put a rose petal in a book, “Memories!”

That’s a precious story in my autobiography. One of the regrets I have about my dad is that I never got a tape recorder and put him on tape. I would love to have his voice on tape now. I have notes on him on paper, I have memories of him in my mind, but I don’t have him on tape.

So when my brother was dying of cancer, I said to him, “Why don’t you make some tapes - eight tapes - one for Joanne and one for each of your daughters. After you die, each of them can have that as a precious memory.” His answer was, “Nah! I don’t want to do that. I’d rather be in their memories as I am.” Then he added, “Besides, this way, they can make up even better stories about me after I die.”

About a year after my brother died, I got the thought about taping my mom - getting her story. I had heard bits and pieces about her story through the years. But I thought, “Let me see if I get her on tape.” One evening, when I stayed overnight in Brooklyn, I sat with her and asked her to tell me her story and we’ll put it on tape. She too was a bit reluctant, but as she got into her story, she forgot the tape recorder. She was 81 years of age at the time, very healthy, still had a job, still making money, still full of life.

I noticed the same thing happened to her that happened to my dad when I sat and asked him to tell me his story. It’s magic. It’s sacred. Asking a person to tell you their life story, their autobiography, and taking the time to sit there and listen to them is magic. It’s a sacred moment.

My mom gave me all kinds of details that I never heard before: her childhood in Ireland, her landing in Boston on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8th, 1919. She told me about working as a maid in the Adams House - a hotel in Boston, sending most of her money home to Ireland, working for a family whose daughter was a good friend of Anne Morrow and as a result my mom met and served Charles Lindbergh a few times, going to the dances, and for years receiving all kinds of letters from Mike in New York asking her to marry him. Finally, one letter changed her mind. My father had written, “This is the last time I’m asking. If you don’t marry me now, I’m going to join the Irish Christian Brothers.” It worked! She finally said, “Okay.”

She filled up a side and a half of a tape with all kinds of pieces of the puzzle that was her story. Some I heard before; some I had never known. Then she said, “The moo is out of me!” That was her way of saying she was tired. She wanted to have a cup of tea and some cookies and we’ll get back to the tape some other time. I said, “Next time I come to Brooklyn, we’ll get Part Two of your story.”. She said, “Good.”

There was no next time. A couple of weeks later she was killed while walking to Mass before going to work. It was a hit and run accident. That tragedy became part of my two sisters’ and my story - part of our autobiographies. Looking back now, 5 years later, I am very grateful that I taped my mom. Only recently I told my sisters about the tape and I gave them each a copy. I figured they would be ready for it now, to hear my mom’s story, to hear her voice once again. And I’m happy that my mom’s story will be passed down on tape and my dad’s story will be passed down on paper to my nine nieces and my one nephew and then down to their children. Our roots, their roots, are all part of the story, the autobiography of each of our lives.

Two suggestions: start telling yourself your story. It’s worth listening to. It’s worth putting down on paper or into a computer or onto tape. Secondly, ask other people to tell you their story - starting with the people in your own family. It’s magic. It’s sacred. Watch their faces as they talk. Notice how they come to life. Listen, really listen to them. Ask questions. Be ready for surprises. And then, it’s been my experience, most people after they are really listened to, wiping a tear or a smile off their face, usually say, “I’m doing all the talking. Now you talk. Tell me about yourself. Tell me your story.”

© Father Andy Costello, CSSR,

U.S. Catholic, Oct. 1992

THE THREE MONKEYS

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Three Monkeys.”

Today’s readings triggered for me the difficult issue of seeing others doing and saying things that we think are wrong – destructive – harmful to themselves and others, especially children – and what to do about it. Tough stuff.

JADE MONKEYS

As I was thinking about the readings for this Mass, the memory of “The Three Monkeys” came on my radar screen.

When we were kids there were The Three Monkeys on a shelf in our house. They were three small statues - light faded green – jade. Their message: “See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil.”

My mom and dad are long dead, so I can't ask them where the monkeys came from. Don't we all have questions that hit us from time to time that we'd like to ask those who have died? In this case: "Where did these three monkeys come from? Were they a gift – a souvenir from a trip? Did they evoke any conversations?”

I just remember playing with them as a little boy – three tiny toys – three monkeys – whom I had conversations with. I have to talk to my sister Mary about them. I think two of them were lost in time. Does anyone in the family have that last monkey somewhere?

THE THREE MONKEYS

I looked up on Google, “The Three Monkeys” and found lots of stuff about them. It’s the name of restaurants and magazines. They are collectors' items. They also have three cows, pigs, pugs, Labradors, frogs, doing the same thing as the three monkeys. One with hands over ears; one with hands over eyes; one with hands over mouth.

The best I could make out was that The Three Monkeys are part of Chinese, Japanese, and oriental wisdom. I don’t know Japanese, but I noticed they are a word play on the Japanese word Zaru – whose vocalized suffix is Saru – meaning monkey. So the three monkeys are named in Japanese: Mizaru, Kikazaru, Iwazaru. Eyes, ears, mouth. Sometimes there is a fourth monkey, Shizaru, “Do no evil.” His hands are on his belly or his arms are folded.

CRITICIZING SUCH WISDOM

I also found several articles and cartoons criticizing such a stance towards life. Politicians or leaders who do nothing – when something should be done – are pictured or described as monkeys who don't see, hear or speak up.

We could do the same with bishops, who did nothing at first with the abuse issue, etc.

We could look at ourselves as well. Antoine de Saint-Exupere, in The Little Prince writes, “It is much more difficult to judge oneself than to judge others.”

Jesus said we see spots in the other’s eye and miss the big log in our own eye. [Cf. Matthew 7:4-5.]

TODAY’S READINGS

This leads to today’s readings.

In today’s first reading from Ezekiel, the call of the watchman is to call out when he sees the city in danger. The call of the watchman is to be a whistle blower – to see evil, hear evil, and scream out about evil.

When this doesn’t happen, we have Enron and toxic waste dumps in the wrong places, etc. etc. etc.

What about the issues of adultery, stealing, coveting, killing, commandments mentioned in today’s second reading?

What about the issue of not loving our neighbor – to practice The Golden Rule when Paul says in today’s reading from Romans, “Love does no evil to the neighbor; love is the fulfillment of the law.”

Jesus' words from today’s gospel from Matthew – seems very different from the wisdom of The Three Monkeys.

He says if your brother or sister sins against you – talk about it with them.

If that doesn’t work, take another person or two with you, and talk again to your brother or sister.

If that doesn’t work, bring it to the church – and if the person who is sinning still won’t listen and change, then cut him or her off. Cut him or her out of the life of the group.

This is tough stuff – very tough stuff. No wonder people prefer to follow the policy of The Three Monkeys.

Jesus adds the dimension of prayer here. Pray for the person. Pray with others for the person – when things seem helpless and hopeless.

EIGHT OBSERVIATIONS

Here are eight observations. You don’t have to remember these. Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! I believe we have to evolve above the wisdom of The Three Monkeys. Each of us has to come up with our own ways of dealing with this very tough – as well as, very difficult issue. Thank you for this opportunity to try to line up what I would think to be key thinks to keep in mind.

First Observation: Most of the time we don’t act like the monkeys or do what Jesus says. Most of the time when we see evil, or hear evil, we speak the evil to someone else – other than the person who is going in the wrong direction. We do nothing but gossip or whine or complain to the wrong person or persons. We do this in family, at work, in church, all over the place.

Second Observation: We don’t know what its like to be in the shoes or the skin of the person whom we think is in the wrong relationship – or messing up their life – and often our lives as well. If a son or a daughter has left their spouse and kids and is now living with someone else – and is not married – we feel terrible for the kids and our son-in-law or daughter-in-law and after the inner pain boils too hot, we explode. Sometimes this makes things worse; in some rare cases it could be a wake up call to the person whom we think is messed up. Sometimes the best thing is to pick the right person to talk to that person – someone who will try to understand what happened. Sometimes, unfortunately, the best move is nothing. Sometimes The Three Monkeys are right.

Third Observation: Sometimes it’s a waiting period – a long waiting period. St. Monica waited and waited, and prayed and prayed for years for her son Augustine to wake up – and change.

Fourth Observation: Sometimes we have to speak up – and try to do something – and the wisdom of The Three Monkeys has to avoided. Money is being stolen. Someone is being abused or hurt.

I’m sure you’ve all heard the words attributed to the Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemoller. They are on a wall in the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. He was in Germany before and all through the time of Hitler and ended up spending 8 and a half years in a prison.

The version in Washington D.C. at the Holocaust museum goes like this:

"First they came for the Jews

and I did not speak out –

because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the communists

and I did not speak out –

because I was not a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

and I did not speak out–

because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me –

and there was no one left to speak out for me."

There are other versions. There is no exact evidence as far as I could find that Martin Niemoller actually wrote or said this. Yet the message proclaims a truth.

In the Congressional Record, for October 14, 1968, on page 31,636, we read this version of Martin Niemoller’s words:

“When Hitler attacked the Jews

I was not a Jew,

therefore I was not concerned.

And when Hitler attacked the Catholics,

I was not a Catholic, and therefore,

I was not concerned.

And when Hitler attacked the unions and the industrialists,

I was not a member of the unions

and I was not concerned.

Then Hitler attacked me

and the Protestant church –

and there was nobody left to be concerned.”

Fifth Observation: Time and place are the key. If one chooses to talk to another one to one, make sure you pick a good time and the right place.

Sixth Observation: Remember when you are correcting another you’re going out on a limb and then the other rule kicks in: the higher the monkey climbs the tree, the more his butt is seen. Expect to be pelted with coconuts in retaliation for challenging another. Expect counter attacks. “How dare you!” “Look who’s talking.”

Seventh Observation: The motive for all this needs to be love – as we heard in today’s second reading. If we are going to speak to another, we need to do it because of love.

Eight and last Observation: Maybe the better rule to have is that of Pope John XXIII. When asked about how many people work in the Vatican he said, “About half.” So my last observation is this: Come up with a statue of Pope John XXIII. Keep it on a shelf. Every morning pick up his statue, rub his belly and ask the Lord that you have a good day. Next: I think his rule is better than the “See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil” rule. His rule was: “See everything; overlook a great deal; correct a little.”