POEM: GOOD NEWS

In bold, plain, clear words,
I simply want to report
that some people are beautiful,
like the nurse this morning
who offered me coffee,
or the drivers of the 3 cars
that stopped to help push a car
that had skidded off the road
because of the ice.
Most news is good news
if you stay on the right channel.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: 

PLAYING DIFFERENT NOTES

The mother sits there
on the edge of her seat,
her daughter’s first piano concert,
both mimicking each other,
all twenty fingers in concert,
playing each note together.

The father sits there
on the edge of his seat,
his son’s first Little League game,
both mimicking each other,
all four hands in concert,
making each catch together.

The grandparents sit there
way back in their seats,
their grandson’s first piano concert,
their granddaughters first game at shortstop,
smiling at their children
on the edge of their seats.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: WHAT LASTS?

Sitting here with a slow cup
of morning coffee,
before I’m off to the hospital
to see her.
“Lord, please get her better soon.”
The clear glass salt shaker
and sugar bowl
we received at our wedding
43 years ago this month,
still sit there on our 2nd kitchen table,
in this our 3rd home.
Our kids are gone,
off on their own.
At times we don’t miss them,
as much as our grandkids.
I sit here all alone
missing her and our long love affair,
our quiet breakfasts: eggs,
coffee and cornflakes,
and her smiling command,
“No sugar! No salt!”
and she’s the one in the hospital.

© Andrew Costello 2007

MAHOGANY BOX

Somewhere inside all of us
is a mahogany box.
It’s hidden there
under a bed or on top of a closet shelf
or in the bottom drawer of our soul.
Inside are the important papers,
letters, photos of a lifetime.
It’s important to give the key
and the location of the box
to someone before we die.

© Andrew Costello 2007

POEM: GRRRRR!

And he would
grind his teeth and growl.

And he was
against immigrants and illegals,
and anyone who didn’t speak his language.
Everyone understood him.
“Grrrr!” is the same in every language.

And he was
against evolution.
It was obvious.

© Andrew Costello 2007

A CAST
OF THOUSANDS

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “A Cast of Thousands.”

One of the great ways of reading the Bible is to slowly page through the different stories and books – noticing the different characters and while reading, asking, “Which character is most like me?”

The Bible has a cast of thousands.

The Bible, like a movie or a play, is a big mirror – placed in front of us – in which we can see ourselves.

Shakespeare said all this in Hamlet, where he says, “The play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.” (Act 2, ii, 641) The play’s the thing, “To hold, as ‘twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image….” (Act. 3, ii, 25)

We sit there in the theater and see ourselves in the play or the movie. We sit there on the boat or the porch, at the beach or in our quiet chairs, and read a novel that makes us pause, makes us cry. Stories can touch the stories of our life.

We sit here in church and hear these readings and the idea is to see ourselves face to face – to see our virtues and our vices, our sweetness and our scorn.

The Bible stories are our stories – in all the different stages of our life. Shakespeare knew us when he says in, As You Like It,

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts….” (Act 2, vii, 139)

Books, movies, plays, the Bible can show us who we are and where we are in our life. Stopping to see ourselves in these mirrors is a great exercise – and can provide some great self revelations.

Or we can ask another, “What character in the Bible is most like me?”

Be ready for interesting observations.

· Am I like Eve or Adam – blamers – going through life blaming others – blaming the snake, when I bite into forbidden fruit and I don’t like the consequences?

· Am I like Noah – or Lot – constantly procrastinating?

· Am I like Lot’s wife – looking backwards – getting stuck in the past?

· Am I like Ruth – staying more with my in-laws than my roots?

· Am I like Thomas – the doubter?

· Am I like Peter putting my foot in my mouth too many times – big on promises – weak on deliverance?

· Am I like Martha or Mary?

· Am I like the Good Thief, knowing that I can steal heaven at the last minute?

· Am I like Saul – who becomes Paul – but first I have to hit bottom before I see that I’m fighting the wrong battles – going down the wrong roads?

· In the parable of the sower, which of the four kinds of soil am I – when it comes to hearing the word of God – rock, shallow soil, good soil but with too many things growing in my garden, or good soil, ready to receive the word and produce 30, 60, 100fold?

NEW JERSEY

I went to a funeral in New Jersey a few years ago. We’re going to a restaurant for some lunch after the cemetery and my sister says to the rest of us in the car, “Good thing the funeral was this Saturday morning and not last Saturday morning.”

I asked, “Why?”

She says, “Didn’t you see the article in the paper about The Sopranos?”

“No,” I said.

So my sister says, “There was a small notice in one of the northern New Jersey papers about looking for people to try out for parts in The Sopranos.” Then my sister added, “Well, 10 to 15 thousand people showed up last Saturday morning and we would have got caught in that gigantic traffic jam.”

We got to the restaurant.

As we were getting out of our car, I spotted someone getting out of another car. I said to my sister, “Look at that guy there. He would be perfect for The Sopranos.”

My sister goes, “Shusssh. He was at the funeral and he’s the son of a Mafia guy.”

I said, “Hey, do I have a good eye for casting?”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

Looking at today’s gospel as a gigantic mirror – or a great movie, which part do I play? Which part is more me?

Am I like the scholar – the one who knows all about the law – and I want to know exactly what I have to do to inherit eternal life?

Or looking at the parable of the Good Samaritan in itself, which of the characters am I like?

Do I feel like I’ve been beaten down by life – or others – hurt by others – fired from a job – cheated on by a spouse – robbed of a chance for a better life – still stuck in a hurt – anonymous?

Am I like the priest and the Levite in the story? I don’t want to know. I just want to get by in life. I want to get to where I have to get to and I don’t want anything or anyone along the way to get in my way. I don’t want to get involved. Am I too busy to help others in life – especially the stuck or the hurting?

Am I like the Good Samaritan - the type of person who stops to help a brother or sister who is hurting – even though this other person is so different from me?

Am I like the Inn Keeper – someone who observes life in all its naked messiness and intensity, in its stupidity and its silence, and I go about making a living – always staying in the background?

Which is more me?

The scholar of the Law – having just heard Jesus’ story – when asked by Jesus – “Who was neighbor to the man who was robbed?” had to answer, “The Samaritan.”

And Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”

TODAY’S FIRST READING

Today’s first reading says, “It’s not that complicated.”

Life is not that complicated.

Who of us could write down the Ten Commandments if asked to do that right now? I guarantee you that most of us would – including myself – get mixed up from 8 to 10.

However, all of us could write down the Two Great Commandments in today’s gospel: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all our heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.”

We know by heart these two commandments and the story of the Good Samaritan that follows.

We know the call to help the hurting – because someday it might be me.

We know the Golden Rule is written on every heart.

Sometimes we’re the hurting; sometimes we’re the helper.

As the song goes, “Sometimes we’re the ball; sometimes we’re the bat. Sometimes we’re the bug; sometimes we’re the windshield.”

What part am I playing in the movie of my life right now?

HOLY REDEEMER

This Sunday, we Redemptorists celebrate the feast of the Most Holy Redeemer. We celebrate the Saving Aspect of Jesus – the Redeeming Side of Jesus. We celebrate Jesus as the Good Samaritan.

When we started in 1732, our Founder, St. Alphonsus, called our group, the Congregation of the Most Holy Savior – because his vision was to reach out with Salvation for folks who were neglected.

In 1748-49, when two of our priests went to Rome to make the petition to the church authorities to recognize us under this title, they found out there already was a group with the name of the Congregation of the Most Holy Savior, so they were asked to take the name the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. C.SS.R. from the Latin: C= Congregatio,  SS= Sanctissimi and R=Redemptoris. So that’s why we are called “Redemptorists.” (Cf. Theodule Rey-Mermet, St. Alphonsus Liguori, Tireless Worker for the Most Abandoned, pp. 437-439)

If you ask different Redemptorists their vocation story, you’ll usually hear something about wanting to help others.

I remember missionary priests visiting our grammar school classrooms in Brooklyn when we were kids. They told us there was a need for priests to work in our missions in Brazil. We used to receive the Maryknoll magazine, so I was dreaming of someday being a missionary in China or Japan as a Maryknoll. Somewhere along the line, I switched to wanting to be a Redemptorist and work in Brazil.

We Redemptorists hope that people around the world whom we serve – people who attend our parish missions, retreat houses, or the parishes that we help staff, all will grow in their desire to bring Christ and his redemption to others.

It’s all the same theme: to help others – to redeem others – to save others – to be a Good Samaritan. Surprise. The road I was planning to take – went from the seminary to Brazil. Surprise. When I received my first appointment, it was a big disappointment. It was 1967 and instead of going to Brazil, I was stationed at Most Holy Redeemer Church, on the Lower East Side of New York City. It was during the Hippie Revolution – and I soon found life and work was fascinating.

Looking back now, it’s been a great trip so far. Thank You, God. Thank You.

CONCLUSION

As they say, life is what happens when we are making other plans. Those who walked down that 16 or so mile road from Jerusalem to Jericho that day had their plans. The person who was beaten up and robbed that day had his plans. The two who passed him by had their plans for that day. The Good Samaritan changed his plans to help the guy who was hurting on the road.

The Story of the Good Samaritan is still playing, is still being told in churches, and in private showings, all around the world – and we’re all invited to try out for the part.

CLING

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Cling!” C L I N G “Cling!”

When I read and reflected on today’s three readings, the word “cling” became a “pop up” in my brain and began to cling to my thoughts.

The brain is filled with cling.

Life has lots of cling.

Little children cling to mommy and daddy. Big children cling to each other. Cling brings children into the world. Cling – as in hugs and in holding another’s hand – cling as in praying and holding each other at a funeral when a loved one has died – cling as in doing the chicken dance or alley cat at a wedding celebration – all help.

To be human is to have cling – sometimes static – sometimes ecstatic. We want to cling to life and love and to each other – and sometimes we want to be alone – because we feel too crowded – too busy – too confined.

Vacation: sometimes we need a good vacation or a good weekend to get away from the stresses that are clinging to us.

To be human is to deal with cling.

Little tiny pieces of dried skin – dandruff – slip off our skulls and land silently on our shoulder. Little tiny pieces of thread cling to cloth.

Visitors to Annapolis – if it was a great visit – when leaving want to cling to the great experience and buy t-shirts with the word “Annapolis” or “Naptown” on them. Or they want to take pictures. Pictures are very much about cling. We have to leave, but we want to stay, so we buy something that helps us stay or take a picture or where we stayed or where we were – because we have to leave.

Cling sells.

Memories are all about cling.

Life is very much about cling.

Notice in today’s gospel, Jesus warns us about too much cling – if we want to journey well. Travel light. Notice he’s saying that possessions can possess us and demons can destroy us. Notice he wants us to be peaceful. He says we can have the kingdom of God – now. Thy kingdom come can come and be inside our skull – instead of snakes and scorpions. We want peace within – not hiss and bite.

HOW TO ORGANIZE MY THOUGHTS

So far, so good, if you got that he’s talking about “Cling” in this homily. However, I was trying to figure out how to organize some thoughts about cling – lest nothing cling to you after this homily.

So here are 3 thoughts about cling. If one clings to you, great.

FIRST THOUGHT: WHICH WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE MEMORY OR DEMENTIA?

I’m reading a very interesting book right now entitled, “A General Theory of Love”. It’s by 3 San Francisco psychiatrists – who take a humanistic, sometimes poetic, approach to understanding how we act and interact with each other – how our brains have developed and evolved since creation.

We remember everything. That’s an exaggeration – but the human brain – the memory – is vast – and it’s a great gift – and it’s filming and storing everything – and it’s sculpting us (Cf. p.99)

Doctors Lewis, Amini and Lannon, in their book talk about the amazing brain – holding onto the experiences of a lifetime – starting from the womb. Children in the womb hear the vibrations of their mothers’ voice and singing etc. and are connected to their moms at first much more than their dad’s voice and vibrations. Obvious. (Cf. p. 114)

Talk about a computer having great memory bytes – our brain holds billions and billions and billions of what we have bitten into in life.

One great lesson I kept reflecting on as I’m reading this book is to try to put good stuff into my memory – and avoid junk images and junk thought. Easier said than done.

We all remember the computer message: “Garbage in, garbage out.”

As I read this book by these three San Francisco psychiatrists and as I reflected on memory I could hear: “Garbage in, garbage forever.”

Then I said, “Goodness in – grace in – goodness and grace forever.”

Experiences cling – pictures cling – everything clings to us.

When I said a few moments ago, the word “psychiatrist” – when I said the words “San Francisco” – when I said the word “humanistic” – when I said the word “evolved”, what did those words touch in you? All of us have different cling to those words or other words – based on our life experience.

And life experiences attach themselves to us – to our memory – to our whole body – and effect the way our face shows up – how our tummy feels – how our hands tighten or relax when certain people walk towards us.

Some people are like eating sushi. Some like it; some don’t. Some people bring us smiles; some people bring us cringe – depending on our memories and our stomach and what’s clinging to our eating memories about sushi or our experiences with this person.

Leroy Satchel Paige said, “If your stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts.”

When feeling crummy or crazy, sit down with better memories – like a trip to Storm Brothers for a double scoop of ice cream in a sugar cone - butter almond and rum raison. I’m a diabetic – but I can still taste ice cream in my memory. Uuum! And now they have sugar free ice cream – but there is nothing like the real thing.

So to be human is to remember – everything. We might not know we are remembering, but we have a billion buttons on our remote – and they are always being pushed.

We walk into a store in the mall and we see someone standing there. We feel an, “Uh oh!” and an, “Oh no!” And we never met this person before – but they trigger reactions because without knowing it, they look like or remind us of a rent-a-car salesperson who yelled at us 30 years ago.

So first thought, which would you rather have: a memory or dementia?

And to have a memory, be very careful what you are pouring into it.

SECOND THOUGHT: FORGIVING AND FORGETTING

As priest I keep on hearing people thinking that they will not feel crummy, angry, antagonistic, once they forgive someone who hurt them.

And I keep on saying, “To forgive is not to forget, that’s dementia; but to forgive, is to forgive.”

Forgiveness is not a feeling. Forgiveness is a choice.

And the same thing applies to forgiving ourselves and accepting forgiveness from God and others. Once more: it doesn’t mean one will forget the dumb things one said or did in their life. We remember.

We memorize our mistakes.

A fling is a fling and it clings.

Mud sticks.

We can’t take back an “ouch”.

But we can say to another, “I’m sorry!”

We can say to another, “What I said to you the other day – must have really hurt you. I’m sorry and I will try not to do that again. What can I do to make it right? Will you please forgive me? What I did is one of my old patterns. I’m trying to be aware of better ways of treating you and others.” (p. 88, 90 TFLOA)

Notice that’s a mouthful. It’s a lot more than just an, “I’m sorry.”

I read that in another book I’m going through. My sister Mary recommended it for sermons. It’s Gary Chapman and Jennifer Thomas’ book, The Five Languages of Apology. Very interesting. Sometimes “I’m sorry!” isn’t enough.

In today’s second reading Paul says he carries the marks of Jesus on his body. Each of us can say, “I carry the marks of my mistakes on my soul.”

Hopefully, each time we make the sign of the cross, it enters into our memory. Hopefully, we have stood under the cross – that’s why it’s so prominent in our churches – and on top of our churches – to stand under it – to sit under it and hear Jesus say, “Father forgive this person, he or she had no clue that what they did was going to stay with them for a lifetime.”

And then to hear Jesus say to us, “Peace and mercy to you today.”

THIRD POINT: TWO BY TWO

In today’s gospel, Jesus sends his disciples two by two.

Life is easier when done with others. It’s called, “Marriage” or “Family” or “Friendship” of “Discipleship” or “Church” or “Community” or “Group” or “Team”.

As Christians, we believe God is not alone. We believe in one God – yet our God is Three Persons – a Father, a Son, and The Holy Spirit of Love between Them. Three Who are One. One Who is Three. Talk about cling.
So it’s not good to go alone – so if you are alone and feel lonely – cling to your memories – and call up and connect with others.

For 8 ½ years before coming to Annapolis, I was stationed in Lima, Ohio. I worked as a team with a guy named Tom. We preached in all kinds of different churches together, mainly in Ohio - and we found out it’s much better working together.

In today’s gospel Jesus says, “If you go into some town and they don’t want you. Stand in the street and shout: ‘The dust of your town that clings to our feet, even that we shake off against you.’”

There’s that word “cling”. Easier said than done. Don’t we find Ocean City sand in the trunk of our car a year after we’ve been there?

Tom and I never had to shake the dirt of some town off our shoes – and drive off. We had successes and failures, good times and bad, but let me tell you, it was much easier and enjoyable doing it together.

And when I call up Tom or see him from time to time, we talk about some great memories – we share some funny stories – that still cling to us. Amen.

CONCLUSION

I stand here in the pulpit and proclaim the Good News, the Gospel, and preach on the readings knowing that words and images cling.

However, if you were at Storm Brothers or Ocean City during my homily this morning, Norm Constantine, over in our high school told me that I ought to put my homilies and my stuff on a blog. He nagged me enough to set one up for me. So if you want the reference to the two books I mentioned in this homily, you can find them with this sermon on my blog. Blog! What a funny word? At Google just type in my name and type in “Reflections by the Bay.” And he warned me, this stuff goes into deep cyber space memory. Be careful.