VIOLENCE 

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Violence.”

To spell it out for the sake of clarity: V I O L E N C E
I would like to think out loud a bit about violence, because it’s an issue that is wedged into today’s first reading.

I'm sure you noticed the violence in today's gospel as well. It presents some of John the Baptist’s message. He preaches with some rather violent images. I don’t think I would enjoy Sabbath services, if the preacher was a John the Baptist type. I sense some people want that – but saying that up here from the pulpit, without a chance for response, could be a sneaky low blow on my part – and that’s a point I want to make in this sermon as well. There is such a thing as sneaky subtle violence.

So I would like to think out loud a bit about violence, because I think it’s a reality we ought to reflect upon from time to time.

A RABBI & THE KORAN

I was at a Jewish wedding a few years ago and I was talking to the Rabbi who asked me if I had read the Koran. I said, “No.”

“Well,” he said, “I was thinking we all ought to read it – in an effort to understand each other.”

So I began reading it – knowing one misses most of the nuances – if one cannot read it and understand it in its original Arabic language.

Somewhere, after reading about 60 pages, I began to notice the word “fire” over and over again. I went back to page 1 and started to read the Koran from the beginning again, this time underlining the word “fire” with an orange highlighter pen.

I began to notice lots of violence and annihilation. I kept spotting that unbelievers and those who did evil were being condemned to hell – forever – and God is the one doing this.

Yes, the translation I had picked used the word, “God” for “Allah”.

I knew the mid-east word for “God” was “Al”, “Allah”, “El”. We know that “El”, one of the Hebrew words for “God”, is at the tail end of various Hebrew first names, Rachel, Michael, Nathaniel, Daniel, Samuel. There it is at the beginning of Elizabeth’s name as well. I couldn’t find out if Eleanor fits in there. Then there’s Elijah and Eli.

Being a football Giant fan, obviously, I wish Eli would live up to his name a lot more – today against the Eagles and next week against the dreadful Redskins.

Ooops, I’m getting sidetracked, and I’m making a sneaky dig at the Redskins. And many people consider football a very violent game as well.

THE BIBLE

While reading the Koran slowly over a long period of time, I began to notice the word “fire” in the Hebrew Scriptures as well – as well as violence – and then I began to also notice both “fire” and violence in the Christian Scriptures.

That became an “uh oh” of an echo as I read the Bible.

Haven’t we all read a Psalm – and it’s beautiful – and we’re enjoying the prayer and right in the middle of the beauty is a zinger – wanting God to zap someone?

CLOSING THE BOOKS
Closing both books, the Bible and the Koran, I began asking myself, “How about violence inside the pages of my story? How about fire and violence inside the pages of my emotions?”

Obviously, both appear in everyday newspapers and TV news reports. But how about self? Myself?

I needed to make an examination – to look at a check list – but where do I begin?

Not having children, not being married, instead of spouse or kids, I began with road rage as the first place to examine my life.

I probably have beeped at dumb drivers about 10 times in my life – but not out of anger – but as an attempt to wake folks up – on cell phones – or because they switched lanes without a signal and almost caused an accident.

Living with priests I have the experience married folks have of driving with those you live with – and some priest drivers have scared me. I discovered experientially from other priests that there are Type A Behavior drivers and Type B Behavior drivers. Type A are tailgaters. Type B are not. But Type B bother Type A types. Based on my words there, obviously I am a Type B Behavior driver. I like the middle lane – go 3 to 5 miles over the speed limit on the big roads – and use cruise control whenever possible – and I know this annoys some people. Sorry. Hey, I’m trying to accept you. Please try to accept me.

Little kids screaming in church don’t bother me. For some folks this drives them nuts. I hear screams. We all hear screams. Scream. Scream. Scream. And I’ve heard many people complain about priests who complain about screaming babies. I’m not dumb. Like everyone else, I don’t like criticism. So screams are part of life. Growing up, our family never had a car – so we took public transportation. I have very early memories of going to visit our cousin in Elmhurst, Long Island, New York, my dad’s brother’s family, and being cranky and crying – when they had to wake me up on the way home when we had to switch different trains to get back to Brooklyn.

And I have lots of nieces with lots of little ones. I’ve seen kids scream and yell and laugh and smile – in the same minute. And like grandparents, I only see them for short spans of time. Parents have to deal with kids all the time – and then there are the teenage years.

Last week I was on retreat for three days with the junior class in our high school – and this coming week I’ll be with some seniors for a 4 day retreat.

I have been reading anything I notice on the teenage brain. One image that hit me was that there is a rusty switch in there and it’s great when something goes through their skull and flips that switch and the kid has an epiphany moment.

FRUSTRATION: TO YELL OR NOT TO YELL

Examining my conscience on this theme of violence within my story, I see myself as “The Silent Type.”

I don’t see this as virtue – but as an inherited reality. Both my parents were the silent types – my dad especially. He was all smile.

I do regret that I wasn’t smart enough to have had long talks with him about what he was thinking and feeling through the years.

I did sit down with him once – just before he died – and jotted down about 30 to 40 pages of notes about where he came from and where he worked and lived. I found out about his 9 years of love letters to my mom asking her to marry him. But as to feelings – regrets – resentments – frustrations – no. Yet, I sense, he was a man of deep peace – and all was blessing. All was gift. Praise God.

My mom was quiet as well – not as much as my dad - but like my dad and many in her generation – but less in mine – you didn’t get into touchy, feeling stuff. You just worked and did your life jobs – day after day after day.

Were they frustrated with life? Were they satisfied with life? Did they pinch themselves being blessed with 4 kids: two boys, two girls?

My sisters make quips at times that the boys were favored – especially my older brother – by my mom. Hey, the oldest boy in an Irish Catholic family, what else would you expect?

As I think about this, I realize we were at the bottom of the Richter Scale when it came to family earthquakes. We were poor, but we didn’t know it. We were blessed and we thought everyone else was as well.

Violence takes place not just in Iraq. It takes place in the heart and the home as well.

I came home one Christmas from the Seminary and my sister Mary showed me the front page of The New York Daily News. A kid I knew from across the street had shot his mother and killed her. This was long before cell phones. He wanted to get on the phone and she was on the phone too long talking to her boyfriend.

Violence was not too far from our doorstep.

PASSIVE AGRESSION

It wasn’t till I took courses in pastoral counseling that I heard about passive aggression – subtle sabotage by someone against someone else – silent digs – locked doors – slammed doors – frozen faces. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” “You can go to bed. I’ll be up later. There’s something I want to see on TV or there’s something I have to take care of on my computer.”

I know I prefer silence as my weapon of choice.

I know it works – or at least I hope it works – to get people to stop and think – “Maybe my behavior is bothering people.”

I know silence sometimes makes people stop and think.

What is your weapon of choice?

Yelling?

Like silence one has to ask, does it work? Or do others become immune or inoculated by angry outbursts – that stick like a needle – hurt for the moment – and then we become better fortified from another’s angry outbursts.

I think silence and passive aggression are better than violence and angry shouts. Nobody is shot. Things are not broken. People are not physically hurt. However, ....

COMMUNION AND COMMUNICATION

Obviously communion – sitting down to a peace table in Annapolis and holding peace talks will certainly make every family in Annapolis better.

Obviously, gripe sessions – what’s going wrong around here? – are important; but then we better counterbalance the gripe sessions with grateful sessions and talk about – what’s going right around here? We need to give everyone a chance to thank those who are pulling their load – lugging the garbage out, vacuuming, sweeping, emptying the dish washer, keeping the bathroom or bathrooms clean, picking up after oneself, etc. as well as labeling laziness as laziness and challenging each other for a fair distribution of work.

A home or a workplace where people are grinding their teeth with inner conversations of resentment after resentment, chewing on the cud of the crud around here, and then sniping with words at coffee breaks, etc. is not a healthy place to be.

FIRST READING

That brings me back to today’s first reading. It’s from Isaiah and it describes with great imagination what every home, neighborhood, workplace, county, country, world can be.

Edwin Hicks did over 60 paintings of this Peaceable Kingdom that Isaiah describes in chapter 11.

He dreams that there is always hope. A divorce or a death can be seen as the family tree being cut down – but surprise, Isaiah sees a shoot sprouting from the stump of Jesse. There is always hope. A root might look empty, but surprise, Isaiah spots a bud blossoming.

He sees that the Spirit of the Lord can change things.

He sees a spirit of wisdom and understanding, counsel and strength, knowledge and fear of the Lord, can change things.

He sees that an end to judgment by appearance and hearsay is called for.

Then – it happens every time – some violence sneaks into even Isaiah’s beautiful dream here. Just as I was reading words of violence and annihilation in the Koran, here Isaiah has God striking the ruthless with the rod of his mouth and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.

Then he switches back to his dream – after God zapped the bad guys – the wolf shall be the guest of the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the goat, the calf with the young lion, and a child shall lead them.

What a beautiful dream – lions eating with ox, cows with bears, and the child being able to play near the cobra’s den.

CONCLUSION

As the song line goes in My Fair Lady, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”

Isaiah’s dream is possible not impossible – when we start with ourselves and then with ourselves in our family and our small circles.

Isaiah’s dream is very possible when we take the time to open the pages of our own book – our own story – and see where we are violent, or angry, or frustrated, or silent, or aggressive, or passive.

Highlight with a bright orange marker those feelings. Then bring the Christ Child into that communion and communication with each other. Then let Christ grow up to the Adult Christ as we grow up as Adult Christians. Amen.

ORIGINAL GOODNESS
ORIGINAL SIN

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Original Goodness, Original Sin.”

Some use the words, “Original Blessing" instead of “Original Goodness."

Today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary.

There are many themes to ponder. This year I decided to do a little thinking on, “Original Goodness, Original Sin” – especially because we use the words when talking of Mary: “She was conceived free of original sin.”

BAPTISM
Whenever I do a baptism of a baby there is a moment I feel a bit queasy and uneasy. I feel this when there are references to sin – original sin. Here is this beautiful baby – who only brings delight – especially if she or he is the first child – and this baby has obviously committed no sin.

I have to remind myself that baptism of a baby - is also a special ceremony of thanksgiving for the birth of this child.

I have to remind myself that baptism of this person is their Exodus moment, their Jordan River moment.

I have to remind myself that baptism is a sacrament – an outward sign that brings an inflowing of grace to this child and to others.

I have to remind myself that the stress in this sacrament is that parents and god-parents will do their best to give good example to this child – and the baptismal ceremony stresses that.

I have to remind myself that the sacrament of baptism is a ceremony in which the newborn child is brought into the church, into the Christian community. And the Christian community says, “Yes! We welcome you into the body – into the family of the church. You are not just a member of one family. You are a member of all our families.”

I have to remind myself that the Sin called "Original Sin" when experiencing Baptism is not a mark on a soul. Catechists had to come up with some kind of image to describe a reality. Then they taught that this mark is washed away by the waters of baptism. Catechists today have to try to describe an atmosphere - a tendency in all of us to selfishness - a pull in us to make self first and others last. And we need to experience good example of folks around us who put others first.

Adult catechists have to get people shaking their heads up and down - doing a "yes" with their heads in agreement, with "I know what you're talking about", with "I've been there too", when they talk about Paul's insight and epiphany that we say "yes" to doing good that day and we go out and do the opposite. We do the things we hate. We break diets and resolutions and promises all the time. [Cf. Romans 7:14-25]

Preachers and Spiritual Directors have to point out how Augustine had the same experience and insight - and point this out in Augustine's Confessions - where he constantly talks about the different pulls he was experiencing [Cf. Chapter 10 especially.]

Catholic Theologians have to state at some point the long theological struggle on whether Mary was free from sin and its pulls and how this could be - sort of like Mary in today's gospel saying, "How can this be, since I have had no relations with a man?" It wasn't till 1864 that this teaching was proclaimed as a dogma of the Catholic faith - and the Dogma of Assumption of Mary into heaven - followed in the year 1950.

Here we run into different streams and currents. Pedestals and down to earth.... Divinity and humanity....

Saying Mary was immaculately conceived puts Mary on a pedestal - and just as we try to proclaim Christ's humanity along with his divinity - how do we proclaim Mary's humanity - especially when other Christians say we are making her divine?

The Immaculate Conception is mystery. This is tough stuff to bring up at an 8 o'clock Mass on a Saturday morning in December.

ORIGINAL GOODNESS
The Book of Genesis gives a powerful poetic description of how the universe was created by God. In fact, there are two creation accounts in the book of Genesis.

The down to earth account has God sculpting us out of the clay of the earth and forming us – like an artist, like a sculptor – and then God breathes life into us. Beautiful. One can picture that. [Cf. Genesis 2:5 to 3:24.]
The up in the air account – has God just speaking out, “Let there be light – and water – and earth, sky and animals” and then the refrain, “And all us good.” [Cf. Genesis 1:1 to 2:4.]

This was rich and important theology by the Hebrew writers – who wanted to say and teach and proclaim that everything that God makes is Good.

There are people who don’t think this. They think alcohol or sex are bad.

No! All is good – that’s God’s original goodness creating everything – especially us.

ORIGINAL SIN

Then the question of evil came up. Okay – if God created everything and everything is good – where did evil come from?

Why wars and brutality – and stealing and abusing – and selfishness and self-centeredness?

Theologians will answer, “Because we are free and if we are free to choose, we are free to chose sin.”

Storytellers will tell us the story we hear in today’s first reading.

Every parent – every human being – knows that we can not only be good, but we can also be bad.

So today’s first reading talks about a fruit tree. We know the story. We make it an apple tree – but we don’t know what kind of fruits were on this tree. And God said, “You can have it all – but you can’t eat from this tree.”

There is always a catch. There is always the possibility of wrong choices. We can all self destruct.

In fact, this human tendency to be selfish – to stick our tongue out at our parents – to be brats – to snitch – to lie – to push – to try to cause attention – to be selfish – is in all of us – and these temptations are in the little kid till the big adult.

We take the forbidden fruit. Pornography and prostitution are ways of making money on our inner self destruction.

I love the Hebrew phrase, “Yetzer hara” - the evil force at our door. The inner itch to slip and slide into self destruction.

This is what is prayed over at baptism. This is why we pour water on babies and adults who are baptized – to acknowledge our need to receive help from parents, from god-parents, from family, and from Church – to avoid sin and do good.

MARY AS MODEL

The theology of the Immaculate Conception likes to contrast Mary with Eve – calling her the New Eve.

In that first reading we hear about Eve going against God and then bringing her husband down – and both blame each other – as well as the serpent.

Evil – the whisper of Satan – the hiss of the Serpent – is very real. “Take the money.” “Cheat.” “You’re on a business trip. He’ll never find out. She’ll never find out.”

Mary takes the fruit offered by God – it’s Jesus – the fruit of her womb – and we are told to “Take and eat!”

BUMPER STICKER
There is a wonderful bumper sticker – which we’ve all seen in the past 25 to 30 years, “Practice random acts of kindness.”

Just as there is original sin, there is original goodness.

Just as there is temptation to do evil, there are temptations to do good.”

Just as people mess up the earth, there are people who do what they can to fix up our earth.

Just as there are whispers to sin, there are also suggestions, inner silent nudges to be graceful.

SHAME SHOWS

Somewhere in this conversation there is the theme of shame. When we sin, we become naked. We feel shame. We’re embarrassed. Shame shows.

The best dressed person in the room, the best looking person in the room, feels horrible – crummy – when they sin - unless they have become totally embedded in sin - and have forgotten how to feel guilt and/or shame.

I see that as the gist behind today’s first reading. Can a husband or a wife see through a cheating spouse – and see right through their "Stop looking at me eyes"?

MARKET PLACE STORY – FLOUR IN ONE'S HAIR

I remember hearing a story somewhere – from way back. I’m not sure exactly how it goes, but I know the gist of the story.

Someone in this small village was sneaking into people’s sheds or back yards and stealing bicycles.

The people didn’t know who was doing the stealing, so they went and asked a holy man if he could help.

He said, “I'll try. Gather all the people in the village in the square.”

The wise man stood before everyone and asked, “Is everyone in the whole village here? Look around and yell out the name of anyone you don’t see here – a neighbor or a friend?”

Some people yelled out names – but from the back or the front, someone would yell, “I’m here.”

After determining that everyone in the village was there, the wise man said, “Someone is stealing bicycles in this village. And the person who did it – has some white powder on the back of their head.”

The wise man stood there and watched the crowd. Then he spotted a man taking his hand, putting his hand to his head, and patting his hair in the back.

The wise man yelled out, “There is the man who stole the bicycles.”

The crowd gasped a big loud, “Wow!”

Then the wise man said, “Let’s all head for this man’s house.”

And the whole crowd headed for this man’s house. They went into a big shed in the back of his house and there were the bicycles. And they all took back their bicycles and they brought the man to the local jail.

CONCLUSION

Goodness shows. Sin shows.

Kindness shows. Evil shows.

Adam and Eve saw their nakedness. It was obvious. Sin shows up on the skin with blushing – or the inability to look each other in the eye.

God looked at the crowd of people and saw Mary, the sinless one. He looked and saw her goodness and kindness and fullness of Grace.

God called this one - Mary - to be his mother.

Mary models goodness – and kindness.

And it shows. Check out the history of this world's millions and millions of pictures of Mary everywhere.

This feast calls us to move away from sin and move towards goodness, kindness and to be full of Grace.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Painting on top, The Immaculate Conception, by the Spanish artist, Diego Rodriguez de Silva Velazquez, 1599-1660.]

NOAH

[This was a "homily story" for the kids' Mass this morning - on this First Sunday of Advent - Year A - December 2, 2007]

Once upon a time, there was this neat kid named Noah.

Now, Noah was one of those kids who was always neat. His shoes were always tied. His shirt was always tucked in. His tie was always right up to his top button – even after running around the school yard on a hot day during recess for a half hour.

Other boys – especially his two brothers were just the opposite. His parents seeing the contrast – seeing the difference between Noah and his two brothers, Nathan and Nicholas, in the ways they took care or didn’t take care of themselves or their stuff – wondered at times and laughed, “Where did we get this kid, Noah?”

When he ate, his string beans, his carrots, his potatoes, his gravy, always looked too neat on his plate. This was Noah. It was not something that he had to work at. Neatness just came to him naturally.

Noah was one of those kids who was a Boy Scout before he became a Boy Scout. He was always prepared. His parents noticed this about him from when he was in kindergarten – maybe even before kindergarten – even pre-K – even in his high chair.

He always had an extra box of crayons – an extra ball point pen – an extra pad of paper in his school backpack. “You never know when you might lose a crayon and the teacher says to draw the roses red, the branches brown and the leaves green – and maybe some kid might need an extra crayon or doesn’t return your brown, green or red crayon that he or she borrowed from you.” And kids always borrowed from Noah. He always had extra stuff. He was always prepared.

He loved those tiny catsup packet’s and mustard packet’s when the family went to Burger King or McDonald's or Wendy's. He always took two of each. He never spilled his soda. His tray was always neat – and he always went and dumped his waste in the big garbage pail – even when he could hardly reach the top.

When the family went on summer vacation to the beach, he always wanted to pack his own pack – always making sure he had 8 sets of underwear, 8 sets of socks, etc. if they were going to be away for 7 days. It was always one extra with him.

He liked umbrellas. He liked flashlights. He liked boots and galoshes. He liked extra batteries. He even looked at the tires before he got in the family SUV – and sometimes he would even lean on the spare tire when the back was open to make sure it had enough air. “Hey you never know.”

This was Noah – and everyone in the family knew this was Noah – and they long since stopped kidding him about his neatness and organization skills. His mom and dad stopped using him as an example to his two brothers a long time ago, when they would be quite sloppy.

Yes, Noah became a Boy Scout – and an Eagle Scout – and when he got older he joined the local rescue squad. He liked helping people who needed help.

When he went to college, he knew what he wanted to be – an engineer – and not any kind of engineer – but an engineer who built strong bridges and dams and strong walls along waterfronts, along rivers, lakes and the ocean, to prevent floods.

He had watched TV very carefully when Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf of Mexico. He saw all those people who lost their homes and their cats and dogs and everything. He wanted to help people in the future from being flooded.

And that’s what Noah did. Even though he was from a Navy town, even though he saw Army lose in football to Navy 18 years in a row, Noah joined the Army after college and was able to get into the Army Corps of Engineers.

And that’s what he did with his life – helping people prepare for storms and floods.

His parents were proud of their boys, Noah, Nathan and Nicholas.

Nathan ended up owning and running a Starbucks – and did well – even though there were 14 other Starbucks within a mile of his store. Nicholas ended up starting a Santa Claus suit factory – and was very busy – especially at this time of the year.

All three boys were back home when their parents were celebrating their 40th Wedding Anniversary. That December Sunday morning, all were at Mass together, Mom and Dad, and Noah, Nicholas and Nathan, and their wives and kids.

That Sunday morning, it just happened that Noah ended up sitting between his mom and dad. Secretly, he was always their favorite – but moms and dads can never say that – but all kids know their parents have favorites.

And that Sunday morning, it just happened that in the gospel Jesus talked about the people in Noah’s time who didn’t prepare for the big flood and all were lost - except for Noah and his family. Noah prepared well – building his ark – his big boat – saving his family and all the animals.

When his mom and dad heard this they both automatically elbowed Noah at the same time.

And Noah’s mom and dad, both came up with the same idea at the same time. They both lied. Okay, it was a white lie, but both lied as they whispered to Noah, “That’s why we named you Noah. You were always so prepared.”

And Noah smiled – but he knew they were lying, because he knew he was named after his dad’s dad, whose name was Noah – and who died of cancer just before Noah was born – and never saw Noah – but his grandmother saw him – and she stopped crying once she heard that her grandson was being named after her husband, Noah – “Noah the Neat,” as she always called her husband.

HOW DO YOU
PICTURE

CHRIST?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “How Do You Picture Christ?”

I thought that would be a good theme to think about for this Sunday’s feast: Christ the King – this last Sunday in the Church year. Then we will start Advent on the following Sunday – December 1st - as we move toward Christmas – with Christ being featured as a baby.

ONE PICTURE

If you had to pick one picture of Christ that says a lot to you, what image of Christ would you choose?

What are the choices?

Christ on the Cross? Christ the Good Shepherd? The Risen Christ? The Christ Child? Christ in the Garden? Christ in the Sky? Christ of the Banquet – feeding us with the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation? The Peacemaker? The Prophet? The Suffering Servant?

After the last two Masses people gave me some of their choices. One lady said, “I like to picture Christ in the desert – in deep prayer.”

How do you picture Christ?

People have pictures of their spouse, their children, their family, their friends, in their wallets – and now on their computers and cell phones, etc. Does anyone have a picture of Christ in their wallet? What’s in your wallet?

TITLES OF CHRIST

Christ has many titles: the Lord, the Savior, the King, the Redeemer, the Friend, the Risen One.

Today’s title is: Christ the King.

Why not Emperor? Why not Leader? Why not President? Why not Boss? Why not Center? Why not Heart? Why not Meaning? As in Christ is the center, the heart, the meaning of my life. As in: “Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life."

TODAY’S SECOND READING

Today’s second reading, I think, is the best of today’s three readings for this feast of Christ the King. After yesterday’s 4:30 Mass a lady asked me if the gospel was the correct reading. She said, “Isn’t that a reading we hear in Holy Week?”

I said, “Yes, but they were trying to come up with readings to fit the theme of Christ the King – and today’s gospel talks about Jesus on the cross as king.

Today’s second reading has what scholars think is an early Christian hymn that Paul brought into his letter. Listen again. For us who follow Christ:

He is the image of the invisible God,
the firstborn of all creation.
For in him all things in heaven and on earth were created,
the visible and the invisible….
He is before all things
and in him all things hold together.
He is the head of the body, the church.
He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead,
that in all things he himself might be preeminent.
For in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell,
and through him to reconcile all things for him,
making peace by the blood of the cross
through him, whether those on earth or those in heaven.
To me that is a wonderful poetic vision of who Christ is for those who have made Christ the meaning, the center, the foundation of their life.

THE FEAST OF CHRIST THE KING

This feast of Christ the King was established in 1925 with Pope Pius XI’s encyclical on Christ the King (Quas primas). So it’s a rather recent feast – but it can be traced back to Cyril of Alexandria (c. 378 - 444) – as well as the New Testament. Pope Pius XI saw what so many of our modern popes, and parents, and people have seen: people dropping Christ out of their life – and going the rest of the way without a religious center – or focus – or foundation for their life.

Peter Berger, the sociologist, in a lecture, mentioned a French sociologist, Gabriel LeBras, “the father of religious sociology". LeBras used the image of a magical train station in Paris. People would leave the farm and the countryside of Normandy, the most Catholic section of France, and take a train to the big city. When they got off the train , they left their past behind – especially their Catholic faith.

Today, for many, it’s college – or high school – or what have you. Through the years, I’ve heard the one thing the bishops of the United States could not agree on is a standard age for confirmation – because this might be the last time we see these kids till they are married or for the baptism of their kids – or the death of their parents.

Peter Berger says that the statistics and some studies don’t “prove” that “so many modern people have lost their religion”.

Yet what title, what image, what picture do we present, when we want to proclaim Christ to our world – to each other?

Whether “King” is the best word or image for Christ – some word and some image has to be chosen. What word and what image do you use to describe Christ?

And how do you picture Christ?

WASHINGTON D.C.

In 1959 I visited Washington DC – and I went with my brother to the National Shrine – the big basilica - of the Immaculate Conception on Michigan Avenue.

He had met and married my sister-in-law, Joanne, who grew up on Michigan Avenue.

We walked in and we walked around. When I looked up, I was floored by the gigantic red powerful image of Christ in Majesty up front – in the center – above everything. Christ did not look wimpy or weak or washed out. He was up front and central. [It's the top picture of the four pictures at the beginning of this homily.]

It’s said to be one of the largest ikons of Christ in the world. It has 3 million tiny tiles – taking up some 3,600 square feet. [Check out the web site: National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Washington, D.C.]
It was a “Wow” moment for me.

Looking back it was to be a religious experience for me – because it had an impact on my thinking about Christ in my life.

Has that ever happened to you when walking into a church, or cathedral, or mosque of temple?

That’s the purpose of religious art – to overwhelm, to speak out, to scream out to us – to proclaim God!

At St. John Neumann’s Church, our other church here in Annapolis, we have that gigantic cross of Jesus. I’m sure it’s like the proverbial saying about priests and pastors: 1/3 like you, 1/3 don’t like you, 1/3 don’t care. What does that image of Christ say to you?

I’m sure it says a lot more to people who are there for a funeral – than those who are here for a wedding.

We Redemptorists were founded by St. Alphonsus – who wrote and meditated and preached deeply on the cross – Christ the Redeemer hanging on a cross – and dying there for our redemption.

What image of Christ would you put up front and center of the church building of your dreams?

This is the last week with the 2007 missalettes. They print millions and millions of these – and they are with us for a year. Some parishes like ours cover them so you don't see the picture; some parishes cover them with see through covers; some parishes have no cover at all.

I don’t know if this image of Christ is a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3. I’d be in the 1/3 that doesn’t like it. It doesn’t grab me. It doesn’t give me a “wow”. I say that nervously, in case the artist is in this church – or someone here is related to the artist. Hey, you never know. But this image grabbed someone – or the team that worked this out – this picture of Christ at the Last Supper. Next year’s picture is similar – but I like it better because it doesn’t show any people – just the bread and the wine and the food on the table of the Last Supper. I think this type of art work goes better without drawings of people. I’m giving my taste and opinion here – and like most art: like and dislike is in the eye of the beholder.

Why not put on the cover the powerful Red Christ, the Pantocrator in the National Catholic Cathedral in Washington DC – or the many powerful Eastern Orthodox images of Jesus? [Check out the 4th picture of Christ at the beginning of this homily.] I have to admit, ever since I saw the image of Christ in the National Shrine in 1959, I’ve been biased towards that kind of an image for the up front and center image for a church or a missalette. Or why not a picture of a great stained glass window? Why not a strong image of Christ on the cross? I remember watching a TV documentary on where Pope John Paul II came from in Poland. There was a scene from a cemetery where the camera scanned some strong and dramatic crucifixes. Compared to other crosses showing the suffering Christ, those Polish green and stained bronze images of Christ were a lot more poignant and powerful than a lot of those tan all the same wooden or plastic crosses of Christ.

I like the image of the laughing Christ – but that is not my central image of Christ – but I do hear Christ laughing at me at times. How about you? Do you ever have a good laugh with Christ?

I took a mini-course on religious art somewhere along the line. I don’t remember much – other than the teacher saying there are tons of junky religious art out there – and from then on in – I was able to say at least to myself, “Junk!” “Junk!” “Junk!” as I looked at religious pictures or statues or walked into religious places.

There are many rich images of Christ to choose from. Check out the masters. Type into Google names like El Greco, Tiepolo, Tintoretto, Caravaggio. If all else fails, pick Rembrandt. [It is the second of four images of Christ in the beginning of this homily.]

On my wall in my room I have two images of Christ: a Greek Icon of Christ from Spain – that my niece Claire and her husband Christian gave me as a gift for doing their wedding. It’s a very serious Christ and I look to him in prayer as I begin working on a sermon. “A sermon is a serious moment!” I have a wooden crucifix that Father John Harrison gave me after my good friend Pasquale Tremonte died over in Seaford, Delaware, two years ago. They were stationed together there. Pasquale was a great character and was forever forgetting things as well as being clumsy – and this Christ is hanging there without arms. I’ve meditated on that a lot - while wondering, "What happened?" My sister Mary paints and likes paintings, so a few months ago I gave her a third painting I had on my wall for years. It’s a dark blue image of Christ walking down a road carrying a cross and calling people on the side of the road to follow him. They are dressed as clowns. It was hanging in a bar and drug and hippie place in Long Branch NJ and a guy I helped with his addictions bought it off the wall and gave it to me as a gift for helping him. [It's the third of the four images of Christ I have in the beginning of this homily.]

How do you picture Christ?

CHRIST THE KING

As we all know, Christ as King is a great paradox. He was a king who got a crown of thorns and had a cross for his throne. He was a king who washed feet and rode a donkey into town. He was a king who said, “My kingdom is not of this world – but what I want to do in this world is to serve. I have no army – but I do have all those who want to follow me – and if you want to follow me – you have to die to yourself – and discover life is not about ego or power of self – but about children and the poor and the not noticed.”

As we all know, Christ the King is the model for moms and dads, popes and priests, politicians and mayors, for all those who serve others. The message is: put those we serve first. That’s what it’s all about.

CONCLUSION
So this feast is a good theme to think about, as we come to the end of the Church Year. To sum things up: “This feast is a good feast to think about as we are about to begin a new Church Year." The question or questions I’m asking in this homily has been: how do you picture Christ, how do see Christ, how does Christ fit into your life?

To continue the dialogue, please put on your schedule, your calendar, the Parish Mission which starts here next Sunday – as a way to deeper one’s relationship with Christ. With our busy schedules, make one evening, two evenings, three evenings, all the evenings – and / or the morning sessions of the parish mission. Avoid the Christmas rush. Slow down and hide in this sacred place.

What’s great is that there is a mission going on for our Hispanic parishioners at this time as well a high school retreat for our juniors that week as well – up in New Jersey. Great! We Redemptorists were started with the purpose to preach missions and retreats – 275 years ago this year.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING 

VIRGINIA BEACH, 2007 

FOUR STORIES
ENTITLED, “STARTING AGAIN”

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Four Stories Entitled, 'Starting Again'”

Here are 4 stories – all with different characters. Your job is to bring these 4 stories to your religious education class today as well as to the dinner table and describe how each story is the same and how each story is different. For starters: each story has the same title.

FIRST STORY: STARTING AGAIN

It was their first day of vacation at Ocean City. The first thing Julia did as soon as her family got down to the beach was to start building a sand castle. Her brother and two sisters were in the water – almost immediately. The tide was out – so Julia picked a great spot to build her sand castle.

She had a hat on. She had sun blocker # 50 on. But she didn’t notice the water or the sun – all she could see was sand – and in her mind the image of the castle she was going to build.

Whenever people asked Julia – a third grader – what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would blurt out immediately: “Architect” and then she would spell it very deliberately: “A R C H I T E C T. I want to be an architect when I grow up.”

She had drawn her castle on paper at least 100 times in school since last summer.

One hour. Two hours. Three hours. Julia even skipped lunch as she worked on her castle – but her mom brought her down a sandwich and some orange juice. Mom, seeing Julia’s castle being built said, ”Nice going, Julia. Nice going.”

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when her dad arrived at the beach. He came in another car. He had some business to attend to before he could join the family for vacation. Dad’s always have to do these extra things.

As her father headed for the water, he too said, “Nice castle, Julia, nice castle.” Then dad was in the water with his three other kids – body surfing – enjoying the waves and the tide started to come in.

At 3 o’clock Julia had almost finished her castle, just as this gigantic wave came and knocked over her castle – almost totally destroying it in one “swash” – S W A S H – that’s a new word. Julia had her back to the water – so she didn’t see it coming.

She was totally shocked – surprised – squashed in spirit. Her whole castle was wiped away – and the waves kept coming in to shore.

Her father and the 3 others dove into that big wave – the swash wave. Her father immediately said to himself, “Well, that’s the end of Julia’s castle.” He headed to the shore and ran to Julia. She was angry – really angry – and she began kicking the water.

Her mother also heard the “swash”. She jumped up from the blanket and beach umbrella she was sitting under reading a novel. She had been enjoying the quiet – with her 4 kids and husband down in front of her.

Julia couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry.

Julia marched back to the family blanket – plopped down on her butt and sulked – her knees against her teeth.

That evening at supper Julia was quiet and ate hardly anything. In fact, Julia went to bed very, very early – not wanting to talk to anyone.

Her father sat there watching a movie on the TV with the kids as his wife continued to read her novel. Then Julia’s dad got up and went over to his wife and whispered something in her ear. Mom closed her book and went over to watch the TV movie with the 3 other kids. Dad went to the room where Julia was rooming with her two other sisters and asked her to get dressed. Julia, in her jammies, was very whinny. She didn’t get moving – after her dad asked her to get dressed. He went out to his wife, whispered something in her ear – I guess this is the way parents work together – and mom got up and went and told Julia to get dressed, “Daddy wants to take you somewhere together.”

Julia got dressed. The 4 in front of the TV set: mom, Sarah, Tommy, and Priscilla, saw dad and Julia heading for the front door. For some reason they said nothing. They heard the car start. It seemed strange – to see dad and Julia heading for the car and it was 8:45 at night.

Julia figured he was going to take her back to the beach and give one of those great lessons in life stories he was famous for. Nope. Not this time.

Dad drove Julia about 20 minutes and there it was: a White Castle Hamburger place. He parked and they went in. They each had 3 White Castle Hamburgers. They have small hamburgers. Dad listened as Julia finally cried and then laughed at her fallen castle – and 45 minutes later, dad and daughter, came home – Julia with a great smile on her face – and her brother and two sisters, wondered what happened and where they went. They were jealous.

The next day Julia was down the beach – this time in the water with her brother and two sisters and her dad – her mom back in her book – on the blanket - under the umbrella – enjoying the quiet with a thousand people all around her.

Three days later Julia started another sand castle – this time another 30 yards from the water – her dream of one day being an architect - A R C H I T E C T - was not washed away by that big swash wave from three days earlier.

SECOND STORY: STARTING AGAIN

For three months – every day after school and after homework, Timmy worked with his Legos building this incredible fortress in their basement. It was to be the most amazing Lego creation of all time.

Three months.

It was going to able to house him – and he could sit in there and peek out through its four turrets.

He had saved his money and had bought lots of old Legos from other kids in his class and then from other kids in the school – many of whom hadn’t played or used their Legos in years.

He had drawn the design of the fortress at least 100 times while he was in school.

Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to be an engineer. And when asked, “What are you going to be when you grow up, he would say and then spell out: E N G I N E E R.

He had an older brother, Theodore, who was in high school, and a younger brother, Travis, who was in the third grade.

His older brother, Theodore, loved to come down the basement to encourage his brother on the fortress he was building.

His younger brother, Travis – was jealous – with his brother getting all this attention – and thought the whole idea of building a Lego fortress in their cellar was ridiculous – besides it was taking up too much of Travis cellar playing space.

One evening when everyone was upstairs – Travis, the younger brother, went down the basement and using a lacrosse stick – banged the fortress and it made a good smacking sound.

Everyone upstairs heard the crash. “What was that?”

Everyone headed down the basement stairs and there was Travis amidst the mess – the fallen fortress.

Timmy was shocked. Travis said, “I came down here and all of a sudden the whole thing collapsed.” He had snook the lacrosse stick off in the corner.

Theodore, the older brother, and his mom and dad, immediately went over and hugged Timmy – knowing how he must be feeling.

Travis remained calm – feeling a secret glee – as well as fear he might be caught.

Mom and dad said, “Let’s go back upstairs. We’ll pick this all up on Saturday.”

Mom, Dad, Theodore, suspected Travis of the nasty deed – but said nothing. Timmy couldn’t sleep well that night.

The next day, at school, his older brother Theodore, got an idea. It was raining and there was supposed to be an outdoor football practice. He told the team about what had happened to his brother’s Lego fortress – and how it was all scatted on their basement floor.

One kid said, “Let’s go fix it.”

”What?” said Theodore.

“No,” someone else said. “Let’s all go and fix it. I haven’t played with Legos in years. You have food in your house right?”

So the whole team piled into their cars and headed for Theodore’s house. It took 2 hours and they did it. They had the whole fortress repaired. Then, after eating all the snacks they could find, they snook out of the house and headed to their homes.

Timmy and Travis and their mom – who drove them back and forth to school – had gone shopping after school. Theodore knew this.

Travis was the first to go down the basement. As he went down the stairs in the dark, he felt tremendous guilt for what he had done. He wished he hadn’t knocked the fortress down. He turned the lights on. Surprise. A miracle. He ran upstairs and screamed, “Timmy your fortress is fixed. It’s all back together again. It’s a miracle.”

Everyone piled down the stairs – including mom – including Theodore – who said nothing. Wow were they surprised.

And Travis stood off to the side – shocked, less jealous – not knowing what he was thinking and feeling – wondering if God was giving him a message.

THIRD STORY: STARTING AGAIN

The third story is in today’s bulletin. It’s in our pastor, Father Jack Kingsbury’s letter, for November 18, 2007.

Two years ago two churches in Biloxi, Mississippi, M I S S I S S I P P I, along with a lot of other churches and homes and buildings, were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.

The names of the two churches were Our Lady of Sorrows and Blessed Francis Seelos Catholic Churches. Since they were Redemptorist churches, people in this parish donated money and a whole truck full of supplies and drove to Biloxi.

Well, recently, Father Steven Wilson, a Redemptorist, the pastor, sent a letter of thanks to Father Jack and the people of this parish saying the churches have been rebuilt and there is a special plaque with St. Mary’s, Annapolis name on it – in thanksgiving for helping in the rebuilding.

FOURTH STORY: STARTING AGAIN

The fourth story is from today’s gospel and the whole New Testament.

Jesus went around rounding up people to start something new. Some followed him. Some didn’t. He had a dream of how people should be. He was an architect A R C H I T E C T of a kingdom.

Peter, Andrew, James, John, Martha, Mary, and lots of other people joined his dream. They were to be the building blocks of this new vision – this holy church – not built on sand, but built on rock.

Well, some people got jealous of Jesus and had him arrested and killed.

Three days later Jesus rose from the dead. He was alive in a new way.

His disciples then remembered something he had said in Jerusalem – when he asked them to look at the temple – and see how beautiful it is. Jesus then said, “One of these days, this will all come tumbling down.”

At that time they thought he meant the temple - the building. Later on, especially after the temple came tumbling down, they realized he was talking about the building - but about himself as well as his disciples – that we are all called to be the different stones that make up the new temple – and wherever we go, there the kingdom of God rises – wherever we go, we are called to be architects - A R C H I T E C T S - of God’s church. Amen.

PSYCHIATRIST AND PRIEST

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

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007