VOICES?
DOES ANYONE HEAR YOU?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Voices? Does Anyone Hear You?”

I read today’s readings, said a few prayers and did a little wondering: my usual way of preparing for a homily.

What do the readings say? What do people need? What’s going on?

All three readings talk about sheep and shepherds – and today is called, “Good Shepherd Sunday.”

We’re supposed to push vocations this weekend – at the Masses.

Is there anyone here interested in being a shepherd? Would you ask your son or daughter if they have ever given any thought about being a Sister or a Brother or a Priest? It would mean giving one’s life for others – like parents and teachers and so many others do – but in this case not being married – not having kids?

We might have heard last week on the news about the Navy Seal – Michael Monsoor, 25, from Garden Grove, California. His mom and dad – received the Medal of Honor for their son from the president of the United States. President Bush – everyone - was crying. Michael Monsoor was on a roof in Ramadi – west of Baghdad. He was hit by a grenade that came out of nowhere. It bounced off him to the ground. The reports said he could have escaped. He had a moment to make a decision. He fell on that grenade and saved the lives of 2 other Seals and some Iraqi troops who were on a mission together. They could not have escaped.

Would any one of us do that? Was that question tossed like a grenade to some kids in a religion class years and years ago and this young man heard the question?

Did he hear in class or church the words, “Greater love than this no one has, that he lay down his life for his friends.” Did he hear someone voice those words of Jesus and they came back to him that moment? (Cf. John 15:13.)

Was it part of his training – and he heard the message?

Does anyone hear what others say?

I read the readings again. This second time I noticed the word “voice” in both the first reading and the gospel. In the first reading Peter stood up, raised his voice, and proclaimed Jesus. And in today’s gospel, Jesus talks about the sheep knowing the shepherd’s voice.

With that I began thinking about voices.

Do we hear the Shepherd’s voice? Do we know the Shepherd’s voice?

You know how we get a phone call and we immediately know who the person is without even looking at the number if it’s on the phone – or we hear the voice and we say, “I know this voice.”

Do we know Jesus’ voice and does he know our voice?

I began thinking along those lines.

Voices – listening – hearing.

POPE BENEDICT

Then while checking out the story about Michael Monsoor, I noticed on the Internet last night – quite by chance – a headline – something about Pope Benedict coming to the United States. It was a series of interviews with the headline: “In 5 cities, Roman Catholics were recently asked about what they would like to hear from Pope Benedict XVI during his visit to the United States.”

It was done by The New York Times and the different people interviewed have their picture there – their age – and where they live: Chicago, Tucson, Boston, Washington DC, Daly City, California.

The folks they interviewed were from across the board – age, ethnic background, male, female, this, that – but all Catholics.

The New York Times listened to the voices of all these people – taped them. They took the time to give a whole range of thoughts and opinions, suggestions and hopes to anyone who wants to listen to them.

If you want to listen to them, type in Google, “Catholic Voices, Catholic Views – The New York Times, April 13, 2008.” I don’t know how to connect this to my blog – where I put my Sunday sermons each week – but this should lead you to their site. [To get into my blog, just go to the St. Mary’s Annapolis web site and go from there. ]

Listen to what folks are saying. Hear their voices.

As I listened to them, I began to think, “What are the hopes and needs of the people here in this parish and this area?”

Does anyone hear your voice?

Does anyone hear the voices of those who are Catholic and don’t come to Mass any more?

If you were interviewed, what would you say? What issues hit you? What would you want the Pope to address while he is here this week in the United States? In Washington? At the United Nations?

I jotted down 10 pages of comments by these folks in The New York Times interviews.

Folks would like the pope to address the War. Young people. The priest abuse horror. Immigrants. The timelessness of Catholicism. Change. Don’t change. Not cutting out those who are gay. The importance of tradition. Latin. Joy. Hope. Peace. Jesus.

They talked about our churches being welcoming churches – filled with hospitality. Women priests. Married priests. Helping the homeless. Human rights. Closing churches. Lapsed Catholics. Being more inclusive. Reinforcing faith. Gangs. Violence. Catholic schools. Money. The environment. Thinking globally.

Some compared Benedict with John Paul II – and their differences.

I WONDER WHAT HE’LL SAY

I wonder what the Pope will say. Does he sit down and ask for opinions and suggestions? What voices does he listen to? Does anyone listen to him? I don’t mean public speeches or writings or pronouncements. I mean gut stuff. Who listens to him? Whom does he listen to?

I wonder what would it be like for him to come over here to the United States or any country and just listen: no speeches – no pronouncements – just listen to us – just listen to the voices of our world.

Does anyone do that? Did Jesus do that?

LISTENING TO ONESELF

To be practical, I think the first step is to listen to oneself. What are my voices? Joys? Sorrows? Complaints? Concerns? Hopes? Fears? Needs? Struggles? What do I want from life? From my Church?

I remember hearing a nun, Sister Maureen McCann, a Mercy Sister from Dallas, Pennsylvania, once talk about the importance of listening to oneself. She said we’re like a radio – with all these stations. She said pick one station. Get it exact. Then turn up the volume. Listen carefully to what you are talking about inside your radio studio today – right now.

Maybe some of you are saying, “Shut up already. You’re repeating yourself. All you priests are repeating yourself.” Maybe some of you are saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Maybe some of you are talking to yourself about your mom who is in a nursing home – and you feel guilty – you’re so far away – and your sister is stuck with all the caring and the visiting. Maybe you’re talking to yourself about one of your kids. You’re worried about her. Whatever it is, jot it down. Clarify it. Face the music. Listen to yourself.

TALKING AND LISTENING TO EACH OTHER

Next articulate your inner voices with the key people in your life.

After breaking the ice, listen to those whom you should be talking and listening to. Hear their voices – what they are joyful and sorrowful about. Listen!

Here’s a poem by Vickie Erikson. I noticed it in a magazine in the 1970’s – and I’ve read it over and over and over again – because it reminds as priest to shut up and listen to others. I don't know if it has a title or if this is just an excerpt.

Sacrificed on the altar of human unconcern,
lie many spoken words
and fragments of the mind.
So loud the world, so soft am I,
small are the impressions
made in this vastness.

Yet,
How wonderful these people,

To be unknown, and know so many,
only so much to give – yet so
much is untaken.

Who shall see my tears
in the pouring rain?
Who shall hear my sigh
in the thunder?

CONCLUSION

Back to the gospel for today. Talk to and listen to Jesus. He says very powerfully, “I am the gate.” Picture a sheep pen. Picture the Gate. Picture the Shepherd. See Jesus as Gate. See Jesus as your shepherd – who is leading you through life. Make today’s Psalm – Psalm 23 – "The Lord is My Shepherd"- your psalm – because you know his voice. He’ll lead you to green pastures. He’ll lead to restful waters. He’ll guide you through dark valleys. He spreads this table before you every Sunday – and he’ll help your legacy to be: “Only goodness and kindness will follow you all the days of your life.” Amen.

VOCATION SUNDAY

This Sunday - the 4th Sunday of Easter - we’re to promote, “Vocations!”

To prepare for this Sunday, last week I pushed vocations for religious life as a Sister or a Nun. I put in this blog a couple of short pieces on “Sisters” etc.

This week I’m putting in a few pieces about the priesthood – especially the Redemptorists.

In other weeks I’ll push the vocation of marriage, writer, Peace Corps, teacher, public service, etc. etc. etc.

This week think priesthood.

There is a shortage of priests in many dioceses.

Think giving one’s life as a priest!

And while you’re at it, think Redemptorist. We’re mostly priests, but we have brothers as well. We have 5,500 members and we're in 77 countries around the world. Check our websites.

Here in the United States, if you’re smart, quick, good looking, talented, brilliant, a good athlete, love God, want to serve, want to live in community, are male, are willing to serve in the Caribbean, in the Southeast or the Northeast of the United States, as a priest or a brother, please contact our Redemptorist web site: The Redemptorists of the Baltimore Province.

If you live in the mid-west or western part of the United States check out The Redemptorists - Denver Province website. You don’t have to be as sharp and as good looking as the Redemptorists of the Baltimore Province to join them.

Just kidding. And that’s another quality: you have to have a sense of humor.

To be human - is to have a sense of humor. It's part of humility and honesty, etc. You need to be able to laugh at yourself and life - and religion - everything.

To be human - to be normal, is to want to be married to a wonderful spouse, to have a family, to see your grandkids.

To be crazy - is to choose celibacy.

Jesus didn't say it that way, but check out Matthew 19:12. Woooo!

And I’ve often said rather bluntly, “If you can hack celibacy, this is a great way to do life.”

I joined the Redemptorists because we live and work as a Community.

I joined the Redemptorists to become a priest and serve in Brazil. Never got assigned there. Others thought otherwise. Instead, my first assignment was to be a parish priest at Most Holy Redeemer Parish. It was in the East Village on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, N.Y. during the Hippie Revolution (1967-1969).

Besides our vows of poverty and chastity, we have a vow of obedience. You can state your preferences, but doing the mission of our Congregation in the world is primary – so that’s one more way to die to self.


It’s a long formation process – and in time – folks know and you know what you’re good at – where you have to be challenged – and the variety of ministry assignments in so many different places is a great plus.



Today there is a lot more personal input in assignments than when I took my first vows in 1960 at the age of 20.


It’s been a great trip so far: parish priest, retreat house work, road preaching, teaching and training future Redemptorists, and right now parish priest again. I’ve been stationed in Pennsylvania, New York, Washington DC, New Jersey, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Maryland, so far.

It's been a great life. I have met so many people and families that I feel part of - and gradually learned why a priest is called "Father!" (Cf. Mark 10:28-30; Matthew 19:10 to 20:28; Luke 18: 28-30).

More!

Andy Costello, CSSR

April 11, 2008

A REDEMPTORIST


A Redemptorist,
still deciding to proclaim
with his life, “Jesus still walks the beach
and calls people to, ‘Come follow me!’”

A Redemptorist,
still deciding to proclaim
with his life, “I am a member
of every family. I am your brother.”

A Redemptorist,
still deciding to proclaim
with his life, “God is! God listens!
I am here as one who listens.”

A Redemptorist,
still deciding to proclaim
with his life, “All of us down deep
are hungry and thirsty for Copious Redemption”

A Redemptorist,
still deciding to proclaim
with his life, “God is daily bread
and a banquet, here and hereafter. Amen!”

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

THE DEATH OF A PRIEST

Weary, weak, worn out, tired.
He lived a good long life….
Lots of words spoken,
lots of sins buried within him,
lots of people helped,
lots of people visited,
lots of Christ moments....
It was his turn to die.
Phone calls to distant cities,
telling people he died.
Tears and prayers
from friends who leaned on him.
It was a celebration,
because even though he
didn’t have kids,
he was a father.*

* Matthew 23:9

© Andy Costello,
Reflections, 2008

PRIESTS’ PRAYER

Lord,
we stand so often
at your altar praying
for others:
for the sick and the suffering,
for those about to begin a marriage,
for those about to buried in the grave.

Yet, Lord,
when do we really stop
to pray for each other,
for all our brother priests
all around the world?

So Lord,
in this moment of prayer,
in this moment of quiet peace,
we pray for all your priests:
the young, the old
and all those in between.

We pray for those
who feel the burden
of expectations that are too high
or morale that is too low.
We pray that all priests will be
what our titles call us to be:
preacher, prophet, man of prayer,
bridge, father, a servant
who dares to care.
Amen. Come Lord Jesus!

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

VOCATION PRAYER

Christ,
carpenter, fisherman, farmer,
carve me, catch me, plant me,
so I can also be:
carpenter, fisherman, planter.
Amen!

© Andy Costello,
Reflections, 2008,

Painting by Rembrandt

(1606-1669)

PRIESTS

Priests: Bringers of the New Bread,
waiters announcing, "This is your table!"

Knowing that water can become wine,
and wine can become blood,
blood poured out in giving one’s life for the sheep.
Tired too many times,
trying to find lost sleep....
Hearing knocking,

reluctantly going down to open up a door
for those asking, seeking,
knocking in their dark night,
wanting bread - wanting money - wanting more.
A sinner eating with sinners.
Priests: Bringers of the full basket of forgiveness.
Washers of other's feet -- often not willing
to allow Jesus to wash our feet.
“If he only knew ....”
Countless hours
sitting in a rectory office trying to listen,
trying to break Emmaus type words,
like bread for those
wanting to walk away from it all.
Aging Fathers wanting Prodigal Sons,

and Older Brothers, to sit together

at the family table and enjoy the banquet of life.

Women coming to the tomb,

expecting emptiness, only to experience

the Morning Risen Christ.
Priests: Warners about the hungry,
about Lazarus at our gate.
Priests: Giving up at times,
wanting to go back to fish for fish -
for something we can really see,
till the Risen Jesus appears
and calls us once again
to feed his sheep, to feed his lambs,
and to answer his question three times,
seventy times seven times, all our lives,
“Do you love me more?”

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

Picture on top:
Father Alec  Reid
1931-2013
Ordained September 22, 1957
Picture of Father Alec ministering
to a solder shot in the shootings
in Northern Ireland

RETREAT

A
time
to just sit
under the tree of self,
just to have some time
to be quiet by the water,
to think, to reflect, to pray,
to realize I’m sitting upon roots,
to be grateful for all those
who grew me to this moment,
to feel the trunk of one’s life
against one’s back,
to feel the strength of that life,
to see the good times and the bad,
the sickness and the health,
to look up and see one’s branches,
all those people we reached out to in our life,
and then to see all the other trees,
all those other people we moved with
in the wind and in the rain,
in the cold and in the heat of life,
all those in whose shade we sat,
and then to remember with tears of joy and sorrow,
those who have died, fallen like leaves,
but we, knowing with faith,
have risen to new life with Christ,
the resurrection
and the life. Amen.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

SITTING ALL ALONE

Dried, dead flowers
on a mahogany end table,
she couldn’t throw them out - yet.
Silent, quiet rugs everywhere,
she, sitting there all alone
in what was once their living room.
She was gazing without really
seeing the gray drizzle outside
on the other side of
their large picture window.
She has been spending
much of her time sitting there
with herself on their couch,
sitting there in their big house,
half empty since he died too soon,
twenty four days ago today,
gray loneliness inside,
along with the shrill scream
she let out that afternoon
as she heard him fall
in their bathroom - a sudden
heart attack - dead before
he hit the floor as she
was sitting there all alone
waiting on their couch,
waiting for his return.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

ONE DAY AT A TIME

She, blurting out
unconnected comments
from a brain rearranged
from too much booze,
too many years of sitting
on too many bar stools,
in too many different beds,
laughing, crying,
then too many mornings
not knowing that her face
had become pumpkin skin color,
then,
then, through the amazing grace of God,
lost becoming found,
waking up face down,
waking up with herself –

experiencing her own personal Easter -
the resurrection of a new person,

now trying one day at a time
with coffee and cigarettes,

and a few good friends ,

and not enough AA meetings,
trying to find some furniture,

working better at her old job,
slowly moving into and enjoying

being in her own

getting better mind and skin.

She's doing it, by God. She's doing it.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

HOT  AND  COLD  CLING

Sometimes I don’t sort my socks
and the rest of my laundry 
till a few hours after
I take them out of the dryer.
Surprise! The heat is still in them.
Sometimes the cold stays in a pair of gloves
for a long time after I had to find them
in the trunk of my car on a cold morning.
Heat, cold, cling to stone or a pair of pliers.
Does my warmth stay with those I like?
Does my coldness cling to those I avoid –
to those I try to freeze and squeeze out of my life?

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

PLAN A or PLAN B?

The lonely boy hiding, always retreating into the shadows, letting others raise their hands in class, or star in games, suspicious of everything about himself, except his plan of meeting the perfect girl who will take his ugliness away, who will finally make him feel important. But he silently wonders night after night: what will happen if she has the same plan for him? Will it work? Can they change their plans? Will they?

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

FOREIGN OFFICE

“Is this the office?”
“Yes. Maybe I help you?”
“What?”
“Maybe I help you?”
“Oh... Well, can I talk to somebody?”
“I somebody.”
“Well, can I talk to somebody else?”

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

THE PATH

It was a path she never took before.
It was a path she never knew was there before.
Yet it was there – hidden, but there.
It had been there — always there,
all through the years.
She must have gone by it a thousand times.
That day she finally stopped and saw it.
There it was: an opening in the hedges.
She stepped off the sidewalk,
walked to and then stopped at the opening.
She pulled back the tiny green leaves
so she could see inside.
There it was: a path, a narrow path to somewhere.
She entered.
She saw several people,
all walking that same path.
It was a path deep within herself,
tiny, narrow, winding, rocky.
That first year she came to nothing.
Yet, a voice within her kept saying,
“Keep walking.
Keep searching.
Keep coming back.”
One day she saw it:
a cross planted there,
but it was empty, silent.
It screamed no empty cry or empty curse.
The next day she came back.The cross was still there, still empty.
She prayed.
She stayed.
She waited.
The next day she came back
and this time she saw a path that lead to a tomb.
It was empty.
Suddenly, she knew:
"Christ had died. Christ had risen. Christ has come again."
She knew she had to take the path back home
back to family, friends, neighbors, world.
She did. She went through the opening in the hedges.
And from then on, she saw Jesus
some days on crosses, planted deep in every person,
some days, Risen – rising in so many people –
people long past empty cries and bitter curses,
people filled with forgiveness and inner room Peace.*

* Cf. John Chapter 20

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

*

DO YOU OWN THIS TEXT?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Do You Own This Text?”

I’m referring to today’s gospel text or story, but a lot more.

“Do You Own This Text?”

Let me get to what I’m trying to get at, this way.

FRANK MILES SJ

One of the persons who had a big influence on my life was a Jesuit priest named Father Frank Miles. I met him while making retreats at a Jesuit retreat house in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. He was a really neat guy. He has since died.

Now, for the last couple of years we have been going down to the Jesuit - Loyola Retreat House - in Faulkner, Maryland – for our St. Mary’s High School Kairos retreats. While on one of these retreats, I noticed they were putting up a new statue of St. Ignatius in the circle in the front of the house. Surprise, I find out it’s in memory of Father Frank Miles who was stationed there for years. I also found out that his brother was there for the putting up of the statue. So I went to him and thanked him for having such a wonderful brother – and how much Frank directed me while making retreats up in Pennsylvania.

Anyway. One of the several key things that Frank taught me was, “What scripture texts do you own?” It’s an obvious and a wonderful question: “What scripture texts do you own?”

Eventually, I asked him how many he owned and he paused, thought, and said, “Oh, about 70!”

Amazing. I would think I own about 30 texts more or less. How about you? How many scripture texts or stories or parables do you own?

PAPER AND PEN

Get a paper and pen. Sit down. Jot down scripture texts you own. Don’t open up a Bible? You don’t have to know chapter and verse – or exact exacts. Just jot down texts you know - scripture quotes or stories that come to mind.

You might start jotting texts or stories like the following:

· The Prodigal Son Story.
· David killing Goliath .
· The Good Samaritan Story.
· The Woman Caught in Adultery and they wanted to stone her to death – and then you add, "Jesus said, “Let the person without sin cast the first stone.”
· The Creation of the world and “all is good” stories.
· Love is patient, love is kind, love is never jealous ….
· Turn the other cheek.
· Take the narrow road – not the broad way.

Keep your list open. If you start this project, you’ll find yourself thinking about other texts while driving or during a meeting or while eating or what have you. You’re at the doctors office. A text comes to mind and you pick up a magazine to look for one of those pullouts, so you can jot down a text you thought of while sitting there. Then when you get home you transfer it to your master list. Remember! You don’t have to have any of the words exact.

THEN CROSS OUT

Then after you have your list you can take your Bible and try to find out where your texts are from. If you can’t find them, call the pastor Father Kingsbury or Father Harrison or Father Flynn, and they’ll let you know. They have nothing else to do – and would love to help you.

Then look at the texts and ask the question: “Which of these texts do I really own?” Translated: “What texts do I live by? What texts hit me in some form when I am faced with life’s different situations?”

For example: someone really hurts you and you want to strike back. You hear an inner voice say, “Turn the other cheek.” Then you begin to reflect upon this. You start thinking about the wisdom of non-violence – the wisdom of stopping the chain reaction of violence. You remember a cartoon you saw on TV a hundred years ago when a general yelled at a lieutenant and he went out and yelled at a sergeant and the sergeant yelled at a private who went out and kicked a dog and the dog chased a cat and the cat went after a mouse. So to stop the chain reaction of violence around the world, you turn the other cheek and smile here in Annapolis, Maryland. Doing this, you're meditating. You're reflecting. You just experienced the power of the Word. You own that text. That’s one.

Or for example, you’re at work. Everyone at the coffee break is talking about so and so who was seen with another man. Gossip is flying like rocks thrown at her – and you find yourself thinking, “Let her without sin cast the first stone.” If you say that to yourself, and you don’t throw nasty comments out at that lady, then you own that text. That’s two.

You might have written down, “David and Goliath” - how the little guy beat the big guy with all the odds against him – and then you think. “No, I know the story, but it has no big impact on my life. So that’s not number 3.”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

Now today’s gospel, or any gospel, or the first or second reading from any Sunday can be yours. You can own it.

The preacher hopes that each reading is Good News – that it helps you this week – as well as in this life. (1)

Today’s gospel is the famous Emmaus Story. We have all heard it many, many times. Do you own it?

While giving a high school retreat many, many years ago, I remember in a discussion session, some kids were talking about one of their nun teachers. They had nicknamed her, “Sister Mary Emmaus,” because she talked about the Emmaus story every single Religion class. And all the kids laughed and said, “Yeah, yeah!” I heard this story about this nun long before I had met Father Frank Miles, but I didn’t know about the owning of texts theory. Looking back, this nun with the nickname of “Sister Mary Emmaus” certainly owned this text.

The title of my homily is, “Do you Own This Text?”

This story about the two disciples on their way to Emmaus is worth owning.

The story is simple.

Two disciples of Jesus that Sunday were walking to a village named Emmaus. It was seven miles from Jerusalem. We’ve all seen people walking in two’s.

They were talking about everything that had just happened to Jesus.

We’ve all seen people walking together in the mall or down the street talking with great animation and excitement – hands moving big time.

While talking and walking, Jesus approaches and started to walk with them – but the key line is: “They did not recognize him.” He’s a stranger.

He asks them what they were talking about.

Frustrated at that, they say, “Are you the only resident of Jerusalem who doesn’t know what happened there the past few days?”

And he replies, “What things?”

Great storytelling – like so many stories in the Gospel of Luke.

And they tell him all about Jesus of Nazareth – the whole story – and how they had hoped he was the one who would redeem Israel.

And they even tell him about the women who went to the tomb that morning and found it empty – and how a vision of angels told them that Jesus was alive.

Then Jesus, the Stranger, starts talking. He breaks open for them the words of Moses and the Prophets and how they all point towards Jesus. Jesus owns all these texts. And they are overwhelmed by this stranger – who when they get to the village, seems to be going on. So they urge him, “Stay with us. It’s nearly evening – the day is practically over.”

So he stayed with him.

Now while eating together, Jesus took bread, pronounced the blessing, then broke the bread and gave it to them. Their eyes were opened and they recognized him. At that he vanished.

They said to one another, “Weren’t our hearts burning inside us as he talked to us on the road and when he explained the Scriptures to us?”

Scripture texts that burn us inside – often are texts we own.

They got up immediately and returned the seven miles to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven and the rest of the company their story – only to hear another version of what had just happened to them. “The Lord has been raised. It is true. He has appeared to Simon.”

Then two disciples who were going to Emmaus told what happened to them on the road and how they had come to know Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

You own this text if you have ever had a Jesus experience on a retreat or while traveling on the road or walking the dog or you’re at the beach and you discovered Jesus was with you on all the roads of your life; but and you didn’t know it till he took you all through the scriptures – all through the stories of your life – whether you have written them down or not. (Notice in today’s first reading from Acts that Luke owns Psalm 16:8-11 - when he says, "I saw the Lord ever before me...." Think of that reference in light of the Emmaus story.)

You own this text if you have ever had a gigantic breakthrough – understanding why you were born in Wisconsin or Oregon or the Philippines or wherever you were born – why you had the parents you had or whoever brought you up – as well as your brothers and sisters, friends, experiences, disasters, sufferings, successes, great moments, jobs, failures, why you met the people you met, married the person or persons you married, etc. etc. etc. You own this text when you hear it all broken down for you.

You own this text when you are here at church at Mass and Jesus helps you see all. The readings of the day might trigger some great insight and you laugh inwardly. You wink to Jesus for breaking open the words of your life for you. Then you hear the words of Jesus talking about breaking the bread. That Sunday morning – even if it’s raining outside – for a moment your life becomes as clear as the sunlight breaking through the dark on Easter Sunday morning.

You own this text if you realize this text is an Early Church Eucharistic text. What happened in this story is the hope for every Mass: words are broken and bread is broken. Isn't that the story of every life.

You own this text if you understand hindsight.

Hindsight happens the next day – or week – or year.

Hindsight happens with break – especially broken hearts – and death and sickness. We know a lot more about our parents years after they are dead than when they were living.

Hindsight comes from suffering. I love the quote – and I own it, “Suffering enters the human heart to create there places that never existed before.”

Hindsight brings insight – better – hindsight from hurt brings insight - stuff right in front of us that we were totally blind to.

CONCLUSION

So the title of my homily is, “Do You Own This Text?”

And I have given you some homework. Get out that paper and pen. Looking at your life, what texts have made you who you are – how you think – how you act?

* Statue of St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits - at the Jesuit Retreat House in Faulkner, Maryland. The statue was placed there in memory of Father Frank Miles, S.J. Hint. Hint. Take your mouse and tap, tap on the picture and you can read the plaque below the statue.

(1) Check out an excellent article by Father Bernard Cotter, "Homily Truths" in The Tablet (London), March 29, 2008, page 17)

SISTERS

Aware that Vocations Sunday is coming up, I put a few reflective pieces about a vocation to be a Religious Sister in my blog. Obviously, there are many vocational choices in life – and for a Christian there are many that come out of our baptismal calling.

When it comes to promoting ministries and service in our Church, it seems to me, promoting a life choice as a “Sister” or a “Nun” is often missed or forgotten.

This is an “ecological” disaster for our Church.

When I speak as priest to young people I ask at times, “Have any of you young ladies here ever given any thought of becoming a nun?” “Have you ever considered being a Sister.”

I say this because I was taught at OLPH Brooklyn grammar school by the Sisters of St. Joseph, Brentwood, N.Y. I remember Sister Jean Kevin, Sister Teresa Carmel, Sister Anne Marguerite, and so many other gals who have a lasting impact on me because of my 8 years in classrooms and school yards with them.

I say this because the Gray Nuns cooked for us when I was in the seminary – women who came from Germany to serve us future priests. Imagine doing that as a life choice? Amazing!

I say this because my dad had 3 sisters in the Sisters of Mercy – in Portland, Maine.

I say this because my sister Peggy is a nun – a Scranton, IHM - Immaculate Heart of Mary. [Check out a younger picture of her below - which should make her very happy.]

I say this because we Redemptorists are historically connected to a group of contemplative nuns – called the Redemptoristines.

I say this because nuns around the world have started hospitals, colleges, clinics, nursing homes, and countless programs that have helped those needing help – especially the unnoticed and neglected.

I say this because I have given lots of nuns’ retreats before I became a parish priest here at St. Mary’s Annapolis and I didn’t see enough young people in the mix. Walking around the property of many Motherhouses, I spotted large cemeteries. I walked through rows and rows and rows of the deceased. Each stone was the same as they were when they were in their nuns’ habits - each so different as brief biographical names and numbers on etched into the stone. And I wondered, “Why so many then? Why so few now?”

I am aware that many Sisters left their communities after the Second Vatican Council – for all kinds of reasons – many to breathe fresher air – to become more fully alive. Having gone through a pre-Vatican II formation system myself to become a religious and a priest, I know there were various weaknesses – especially when it came to understanding humanity. I am also aware of many sisters who stayed and grew – and became richer human beings. I go crazy when I hear priests comment about nuns and habits – and all that. I learned my lesson early on in life when I bought one of my nieces a Jordache vest for a Christmas gift. She never told me – but I hope someone, somewhere in some Goodwill Store thought it was a good buy. “Can’t beat the price.” I hear priests say: “Well, the communities of sisters getting vocations today all wear the habit.” And if I get sucked into the argument, I add: “Of course uniforms are important – and it gets people in the door. But if they stay, they better stay for the better reasons.” Then I add comments like, “ They better be able to go mufti like we did.” And “We have to learn something from history.” Then I add, “Remember the old saying, ‘The habit doesn’t make the monk.’” Then I say to myself, “Shut up! Let the women talk for the women.”

I am aware of the many single and married women who are giving their life and talents to teaching, nursing, running schools, hospitals, programs and parishes.

My thought in this blog piece is that there is a loss taking place.

Maybe a woman reading this will say, “I never thought of this for a life choice.” Come Holy Spirit.

Obviously, the shortage of priests in the Church in the United States, has challenged me to wonder about that as well as the shortage of religious sisters and nuns.

My personal observational research says a key reason for the decline is that parents are having less kids and want to see grandkids.

I always like to quote Groucho Marx’s words, “If your parents didn’t have any kids, chances are you won’t either.”

It’s been the choice of the Catholic Church in the “West” that priests and religious come from families as gifts to the Church and the world – especially the poor. So I hope couples are blessed with kids and say at times, “Think about giving your life to the people of our world as a sister or a brother or a priest. It means making the sacrifice of your life of being a husband or a wife – and parent – and giving all your love for the parents and children of our world.”

Another observation I make is that we live in what I call, “The Clicker Generation.” If the program on the screen is boring, change the channel or turn it off and go to the computer or e-mails or Google. Or pick up the cell phone. It seems that long term life commitments are not on people’s screen. However, as I say that I think of the many dedicated driven folks – with lifetime commitments - whom I have met in various careers. So I am not sure.

Should there be more ads for becoming a nun or a sister? More promotion? It seems to me that is pouring good money down the drain – but more asking folks to consider such a life is the best promotion.

So let me ask you the reader of this blog – especially women: Did you ever think of being a religious, a sister, a brother, a priest?

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A SISTER

A sister,
a dreamer,
one who like Joseph
has many dreams,
many sisters and brothers,
a sister,
one who has discovered through pain
that the plot is always copious redemption,
especially when there has been betrayal and lies,
a sister,
one who has a forever kind of forgiveness,
a sister,
one who wants to make sure
everyone in the family
has at least one coat of many colors,
a sister,
one who is a bread winner,
so that everyone has their daily bread,
a sister
one whose heart is filled with charity,
beating with haste like Mary’s heart,
trying to bring forth new beginnings,
helping people move through a Genesis,
always unfolding, always being created,
through Exodus, towards Revelation,
the Revelation of the Son,
Jesus, the Redeeming One.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A CARMELITE

A Carmelite
always listening for knocks on the door
to move further into The Interior Castle.

A Carmelite
always knowing that in The Dark Night of the Soul
there is always The Living Flame of Love.

A Carmelite
always knowing that God is the one who moves us
from nothing to the all (“nada y todo”).

A Carmelite
always knowing Christ is inviting us
to make The Ascent of Mount Carmel.

A Carmelite
always listening to The Spiritual Canticle
that is our prayer – that is us.

A Carmelite
always knowing Jesus is the Little Way
when moving in The Way of Perfection.

A Carmelite
always knowing God sends the rain
when it’s difficult to water the Garden of the Soul.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

A SISTER IN THE FAMILY

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “Jesus still walks this earth
and calls people, “Come follow me!”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “I am a member
of every family. I am your sister.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “God is! God listens!
I am here as one who listens.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “All of us down deep
are hungry and thirsty for God.”

A Sister,
deciding to proclaim
with her life, “God is a banquet,
here and hereafter.”

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

SISTER

“Sister” - one of those sacred words
found in so many lives.
Okay, not as powerful as “Mom,”
or “God”,
but all the same, to so many,
so important.
“Sister”.
Friend. Presence. Nun better.

One who cares.
Someone you can count on.
So no wonder all religious women
are blessed by being called by
such a sacred name,
“Sister.”

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008

DOUBTING THOMAS

[This is a story for Doubting Thomas Sunday - March 30, 2008 - for our Kids and Family Mass. The Gospel reading is a bit different in the Children's Lectionary.]

Thomas was a doubter ever since he was a tiny kid. If you knew his background, you’d understand.

Thomas was one of two kids – and a twin at that with his twin sister, Theresa – spelled, “T H E R E S A” not “T E R E S A.”

People misspelling her name at times – was to be the only problem Theresa had in life. Not bad.

Now even though they were twins, Theresa had all the gifts. Theresa was smarter, quicker, better looking. At least that’s what Thomas often heard – when he heard adults talk about him and his twin sister – when mom and dad and an aunt and her husband who lived next door would talk in the other room or on the porch outside their house when the weather was warm and the windows were open and he would be listening. Thomas was not just a doubter. He was also a listener.

And when he went to school, the teachers often said to Thomas, even though Theresa was in the same class, “Why aren’t you like your sister?”

“Ouch,” that hurts.

Now of course, his parents tried not to say that horrible thing that every kid hates to hear: “Why aren’t you like your sister?” Or, “Why aren’t you like your brother?” Yet, they said it at times. And sometimes two times are too many times – especially if the person who hears it repeats it a hundred times inside themselves.

It would get Thomas mad – but he would never say it or show it. But he did think about it – as well as other comments about how great his sister was.

He would sit there at table inside his inner room – that inner room we all have somewhere deep inside our brain – our upper room - where hurts hide and hang out.

The implication always seemed to be disappointment with Thomas.

The hidden message always seemed to be: he, Thomas, wasn’t measuring up to expectations. At least that’s what he thought others were implying over and over again.

Thomas and Theresa, mom and dad, lived in a small town – so everybody knew everybody.

Thomas and Theresa were both in the same class – all through grammar school and high school.

Everybody noticed Teresa.

Nobody noticed Thomas – except for comparisons.

When it came time to graduate from high school, Theresa got several scholarships to good universities for lacrosse, basketball, soccer and academics. Thomas got nothing.

Not being an A student like Theresa – not being a great athlete like Theresa, Thomas decided to do something totally different. Instead of going to college, he decided to become a marine. Nobody in the family had ever been in the marines – so that’s what Thomas decided to do.

He doubted he would make it – but he did.

So it was the Marines – training, then off to war in Iraq.

Thomas, now away from his sister, now called Tommy by his buddies – made it – in fact, he did really well at times. Sergeants and lieutenants praised him for his hard work – but Tommy didn’t know how to take compliments. He would doubt that anyone would praise him for his accomplishments. While growing up, he rarely got them in school or at home. Theresa got them all. So he didn’t take the compliments into his inner room – that place inside each of us -somewhere inside our brain – where we sit and talk with our thoughts and feelings.

One day – one horrible day – when driving down a dusty road not too far from Falluja in Iraq – a road side bomb exploded. It was a notorious I.E.D.: Improvised Explosive Device. This time, thank God, nobody was killed. However, Tommy’s left leg was really mangled and messed up – so messed up that he lost it.

He was flown to Germany first and then to a rehabilitation hospital in Texas – one of the best in the United States.

Obviously, his mom and dad and sister flew to Germany and then to Texas to see him as often as they could.

In time, Tommy’s wounds were healed. He was fitted with an artificial left leg – the latest and best artificial leg one could get. Yet down deep he couldn’t deal with his loss. He faked it when his sister Theresa and his parents came to visit him. Down deep in that secret room inside himself – which many of us keep locked – for fear that another person will say something that will hurt us even more, he had doubts that he would ever get anywhere in his life – now with only 1 leg.

Therapists kept telling his group in Texas that many soldiers who had lost arms or legs or hands were leading good lives. Tommy doubted this.

One Sunday – this Second Sunday after Easter he was in church and the priest said that for the past few years this Sunday has been called “Divine Mercy Sunday” – but for centuries before that it’s also been called, “Doubting Thomas Sunday.”

Hearing his name caught Tommy’s attention. He began listening like he used to listen to his parents on the porch in the summer when the windows were open.

The priest said that Thomas was not there when Jesus came back from the dead – when Jesus came into the Upper Room – even though the doors were locked – because the disciples were filled with fear. Jesus the Risen Lord came back and said to his disciples, “Peace be to you and I want you to bring peace and forgiveness to others.”

The priest said when Thomas came back, the disciples told him the good news that Jesus had risen – that Jesus had come back from the dead. Thomas wouldn’t believe them. Thomas doubted them. He said, “First, I must see the nail scars in his hands and touch them with my finger. I must put my hand where the spear went into his side. I won’t believe unless I do this!”

The priest who was preaching said, “That’s why Thomas is called ‘Doubting Thomas’. That’s why this is called, ‘Doubting Thomas Sunday.’”

The priest also said, “Thomas was a Twin” – and added, “I often wonder if the reason the Gospel tells us Thomas was a twin is because we are his twin. All of us have our doubts. Maybe the story was written down in the gospels, so we doubters could have someone we can relate to.”

Well, when Tommy heard this, he found himself in his Upper Room – somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain. Tommy was sorting out his own thoughts about all this. He knew he was a Doubting Thomas as well.

Then the priest added the rest of the story – how Jesus came back a week later and this time Thomas was present and Jesus called him by name to put his finger into Jesus' cuts and into his side and believe. And Thomas believed. And Jesus said, “You have believed because you have seen. Blessed are those who have not seen – yet they believe.”

Tommy began to feel great peace. Then and there his whole life was opened up for him. He couldn’t wait till Monday morning. He couldn’t wait for rehabilitation exercises.

And he did fabulously – so fabulously that he was asked by his superiors if he would consider doing this kind of work full time – that he become a doctor or a physical therapist or what have you – and be given an assignment to help soldiers – men and women injured in Iraq and Afghanistan – who came back in the pits – not believing they would ever recover.

And that’s what Tommy did – but immediately. He went to school at night to become a physical therapist – but during the day he worked with those who lost limbs and spirit in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Seeing Thomas move so well – speak so well – help train so well, many would recover very well. He had a way of getting deep into inside locked minds and hearts – inside people's upper rooms where we get stuck because of fears and anger and comparisons.

And at least 35 times so far, a soldier who lost a leg or an arm would say to him in anger, “Lieutenant Tom, it’s easy for you to say I can recover and lead a normal life. But I lost my leg in Afghanistan or Iraq and look at you – you’re normal – you’re a full person.”

And Lieutenant Tom would smile – knowing the day would come when he would find the right time, the right moment, to say, “Let me show you something.” And he would sit down on a nearby chair and slowly roll up his left pants leg.

No doubt about it, it always worked.

DOUBTING TOMMY

(The following is a story I made up last year for our Sunday morning Kids and Family Mass. I try to write a new story for each of these Masses - and when I wrote this year's story, I said, "Uh oh! Didn't I write something like this last year?" You be the judge!

Once upon a time there was this kid name Tommy. He was a great kid. However, his mom and dad often told him, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

They would say this if he spent too much on his Game Boy and not enough time on his homework. As a result, he’d end up almost failing. Now Tommy had a good brain. Yet his parents would say, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

They would say this if he ate only dessert and skipped his green vegetables and salad and hamburger and potatoes – and all those things parents nag their kids about when eating. Then when he felt sick – because he took too much dessert, they would say, “Tommy, you have to think before you act.”

Now Tommy had a twin brother named Teddy. Now, Teddy loved his twin brother Tommy, especially because Tommy always got the corrections. Teddy just stayed cool, calm and collected, enjoying life in Tommy’s shadow.

One Sunday afternoon, their mom and dad, left the two of them alone – because they wanted to go to a wake. Someone in the parish had died suddenly. As they were leaving mom said, "Tommy, you're in charge!" Then out of habit she added, "Think before you act."

Tommy liked being the older brother. They were both 12 years old – but Tommy was 26 minutes older than his brother.

Their parents didn't think much could go wrong if they were out of the house for just an hour.

It was raining out. It was a Sunday. It was April. March madness was over. Nothing good was on TV. When T & T realized they forgot to recharge their Game Boys, they got out their lacrosse sticks and started tossing a ball back and forth in the living room.

Tommy wasn’t thinking before acting – but neither was Teddy.

They were doing well – when suddenly Tommy threw a lacrosse ball to Teddy – but too hard and too wide. Teddy lunged for it, but the ball crashed into a very expensive living room big mirror on the wall. Teddy, as he tried to catch the ball, hit an expensive Waterford crystal vase with his lacrosse stick. It was on an end table and had some spring flowers in it.

"Crash!" "Splash," went the glass of both the vase and the mirror. Water, flowers and broken shards of glass were scattered everywhere.

“Uh oh,” both of them muttered.

Then they both yelled in unison, “Uh oh! Big time!”

Teddy said, “I’m going to call mom and dad right away and tell them we just broke a vase and the mirror. Better tell them now than latter.”

“No,” said Tommy. "Let’s wait till they get home. We need some time to come up with a good story.”

Teddy, said, “Nope, I’m calling right now.”

So Teddy went to the phone in the kitchen – while Tommy pouted on the big couch – looking at the mess – wondering how he’s going to get out of this one. He could hear his mom and dad saying as they walked into the room and seeing the mess, “You have to think before you act. You could have gone out into the garage and have a catch there with your lacrosse sticks.”

Teddy returned from the kitchen three minutes later.

Tommy asked, “What did mom and dad say?”

Teddy told his twin brother Tommy, “They were upset, but they forgave us. Mom said, ‘Just as long as neither of you are cut.’”

Tommy said, “No way. No way they forgave us. I can hear them as soon as they walk in the house and see this mess. ‘We told you. No lacrosse, no football, no baseball playing, in the living room. You’re going to break something.’ Then I’m going to hear, ‘Think before you act.’”

Teddy repeated himself, “Nope. They forgave us. And they added, ‘Don’t try to pick up the broken glass. You might cut yourself.’”

The next hour was the longest hour in their entire life. They could hear every drop of rain falling from the sky. Finally, they heard the garage door opening and the car coming into the garage. Then they heard their parents come into the living room.

“Are you guys okay? All the way home we were worried you might be cut. We can always get a new mirror and a new Waterford vase, but we can’t get a new set of Twins like you guys.”

Teddy and Tommy were silent – amazed – and stunned.

Their parents continued, “All the way home we were thinking how you must be nervous wrecks worrying that we’re going to yell at you. Hey we broke things when we were your age. And we’re impressed that you called right away. Nice going. Not too many kids would do that.”

And Teddy didn’t give Tommy the “I told you so” look.

Tommy thought to himself, “Better to stay in Teddy’s shadow. There will be more broken windows and dishes and more, ‘I told you so’s’ – in the future, but for now, it was all forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness and lots of wonderful peace.

EASTER 

UPRISING 

Each Easter,
hopefully
a new uprising
of the Spirit
of Christ,
up out of the silent
grave of our heart,
breathing deeper,
wanting a fuller life,
springing up out of
the cavity of our chest,
up higher to our lips,
and with breath
from our depths
we sing,
“Alleluia!”

© Andy Costello,

Markings Prayers

GOOD FRIDAY
AND 

EASTER SUNDAY 

Good Friday
doesn’t always come on Good Friday.
Sometimes it comes with
a phone call on a Sunday night,
“There’s been an accident!”
Sometimes it comes
while visiting a parent
in a nursing home as we see
mom or dad having to make
their painful way of the cross.
Sometimes it comes
in a doctor’s office,
or in the boss’ office
just when we thought
we had job security.
Good Friday
doesn’t always come on Good Friday.
So Lord, give me the courage
that you had on your way of the cross,
to keep walking,
to keep getting up after each fall,
to make it beyond the hurt,
beyond the bitterness and the nails,
beyond death on our cross.
Lord, help me to know
there’s always an Easter Sunday,
even if it doesn’t
always come on Easter Sunday.

© Andy Costello,

Markings Prayers

CREED FOR 

SPRINGTIME 

I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the Lord, the Giver of Life.

I believe all will rise again,
like the sap in the trees,
the wheat in the fields
and the grapes on the vine.

I believe that there is life beyond the funeral
and resurrection on the other side
of every tragedy,
just as sure as the flowers will bud
and the spring rains will come.

And as I see long armies
of birds marching and spelling out
V’s for VICTORY across the highest skies,
I know that once more sparrows
and robins and the rest of creation
will music my mornings.

I believe that the greening of trees
and the warmth of the sun
will once again fill our days
and take away the skin tightening
cold of the long winter.

I believe that kids and lovers
and all of nature will yell
to the rest of us to wake up
and never give up on life.

I believe YOU are saying to us:
“Rise from your death.
Come out of hibernation.
Stretch your limbs and be people of life.
I believe in you.”

© Andy Costello,

Markings Prayers