*

RECOGNITION

AND

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

INTRODUCTION

I would like to preach on the theme of “Recognition and Acknowledgement.”

It’s a theme that hit me as I reflected on today’s readings, especially today’s gospel.

I began wondering, “Where would this theme take me?” I ask you: "Where would this two step dynamic of recognition plus acknowledgment take you?"

AIRPORT

We’ve all had the experience of being at an airport and we see someone walking towards us or sitting there and we think, “Isn’t that?” We recognize someone famous – an actor, a politician, an athlete. That’s recognition.

If we go “Hi!” with a slight wave of our hand or a smile, that’s acknowledgment.

If we see a teenager going over to the famous person and ask for their autograph, that’s both recognition and acknowledgment.

If you’re looking for a conversation starter, just ask folks to mention famous people they have met. I’ve discovered everyone has their list of famous folks whom they have spotted.

I’ve seen Deon Sanders, Tiny Tim, Oscar Robinson, Billy Jean King, The Everly Brothers, F. Lee Bailey, Howard Cosell, at various airports and I don’t travel that much. Whom have you met?

Whom have we missed? Ooops! you can’t answer that one. If you can, you didn’t, didn’t see them.

QUESTIONS
A question: Who’s famous? Who should be recognized?

A second question: Who should be acknowledged?

We have all heard Andy Warhol’s famous quote, “In the future everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes.”

Have you had your 15 minutes of fame yet? Did you want it? Did you have it all at once? Or are you accumulating it an instance at a time.

Or you might say: “Who cares?” Or, “What is fame?”

Do you really want to be on the American Idol show?

Isn’t it more important, that we are recognized and acknowledged by people whom we recognize and acknowledge: family, friends, neighbors, parishioners?

In a church this size, in a parish this size, is it important to sit in the same seat – or close to the same seat each time we come to a certain Mass? Doing that, we could get to know each other a tiny bit more each time. Isn’t it important to recognize, to acknowledge, to give a nod or sign of peace to each other when we are here?

ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Another conversation topic is accomplishments. Why not ask each other: “Did you ever do anything that was famous?” At some family get together – when there are several generations present, ask that question. Watch the faces of kids as they listen to the answers given off by us older folks. And afterwards, surprise, you might overhear kids telling other kids, “You aren’t going to believe what my grandmother did way back in 1937. She was in Paris and she went up in a hot air balloon that almost hit the Eiffel tower. There were pictures of it in all the papers.” Wow!

Or, “My uncle won a spelling bee and went all the way to the state finals when he was a kid.” “Wow!”

Or, “My mother had her picture on the front page of The Washington Post when she was a little girl. It was a parade and she was sitting on the curb. She even showed me the picture. She had it carefully saved in a see through plastic folder.” Wow!

TIM RUSSERT
I’m sure you heard that Tim Russert gave the commencement address here at the St. Mary’s High School graduation on May 22nd. That was just 22 days before his sudden death.

I lucked out getting a chance to shake his hand – look him in the eye for a hundredth of a second and get in a foursome picture with him. I was also just 6 feet away from him up on a small platform as he gave his address. Wow!

I’m saying to myself during his talk, “I hope these kids are thrilled that their high school commencement address is being given by Tim Russert." I had second thoughts two days later when I said to someone, “Guess who gave the St. Mary’s H.S. commencement address this year?”

“Who?”

“Tim Russert!”

“Who’s Tim Russert?”

But after his sudden death, a lot more people know who Tim Russert was.

When I get a chance I’m going to ask some of our high school graduates what they now think. I’d like to hear what they recognized and what they would acknowledge. But as Tim Russert said, “Who remembers what is said in commencement addresses?” Then he added, “Who even remembers who gave their commencement address?”

I laughed at that because I had given the commencement address last year.

TODAY’S READINGS
Today’s first reading is from Jeremiah. Stories about his life and snippets of his sermons can be found in the Bible in The Book of the Prophet Jeremiah. Evidently, different people recognized his words and experiences were significant enough to be acknowledged in writing.

Jeremiah was a strong character and a challenging prophet. He keeps on yelling to God: “Why have you put me in this position? Why do I keep on getting trapped and persecuted? Why are people whispering against me? Why do they love it when I fall?” Then he has his follow up theme – where he acknowledges God’s presence: “God, through all this, you keep rescuing me, saving me, pulling me out of the pits.”

Today’s second reading is from Saint Paul’s Letter to the Romans. It is recognized and acknowledged as his most important letter. In this letter Paul recognizes that sin is around us. The pattern of Adam, the Old Man, is still in all of us. The story of Adam and Eve is everyone’s story. We all are tempted to eat forbidden fruit. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. However, Jesus came to be the New Pattern, the New Adam, the New Man, the New Type of person God calls us to be. The New Story has the same words as the Old Story in Genesis, when the serpent tempted Eve and Adam to take and eat the forbidden fruit of the tree in the middle of the Garden. Jesus says at each Eucharist, at each Mass, from the table and from the tree of the cross in the "center" of the church, “Take and eat.” Notice the Eucharistic words at the end of today’s first reading, “The grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus overflow for the many.”

But it’s today’s gospel that grabbed me the most with this theme of recognition and acknowledgement.

Jesus says nothing is hidden. All is recognizable. There are no secrets. All will be revealed [acknowledged]. Uh oh!

Then Jesus gets into the question of fame, the Who’s Who stuff, the who’s recognizable stuff. Haven’t we all been driving along the highway and surprise, we see a whole flock of sparrows come sailing like a thousand Blue Angels twisting and turning right there to our right in the sky as we look out the front window of our car?

We go, “Wow!”

Haven’t we been in the barber shop and spotted all that hair on the floor or been in church and the person in front of us has beautiful hair – glistening in the sun – or the person in front of us is bald and the sermon is horrible and we start counting their hairs, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,” This guy has 11 hairs on his head. Does he know that? Then we remember Jesus’ words, “Even the hairs on your head are counted.”

Jesus is telling us in poetic ways that God knows us. God recognizes us. God acknowledges us. Don’t be afraid. We are more important than a whole flock of sparrows.

Then Jesus makes a switch in thought from us to himself. “Everyone who acknowledges me before others, I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”Scary stuff.

The first step is the recognizing Jesus – recognizing God. The second step is the acknowledging.

Pearl Bailey once said, “People see God every day, they just don’t recognize him.” [New York Times, Nov. 26, 1967]

Imagine dying and saying to God, “I thought I saw you.”

Imagine dying and God saying, “I don’t recognize you”?

Wow! Now that’s a scary thought.

It seems so foreign to hear Jesus say that. If I read Jesus correctly, he walked down streets recognizing folks whom others rarely recognized. The Gospels are loaded with stories about Jesus recognizing people – little children, people who were blind or deaf or had leprosy – poor widows with only two small coins.

So I hope when I die Jesus will recognize and acknowledge poor me, even though I didn’t recognize and acknowledge him enough.

ANTHONY DRAGONETTI
I once gave a communion breakfast talk in Trenton, New Jersey. The guy who invited me to give the talk – did it as a way of promoting weekend retreats at the retreat house where I was stationed. His name was Anthony Dragonetti. After the breakfast he invited me back to his and his wife Philomena’s house for lunch. I noticed a whole collection of neat porcelain birds in glass cabinets in their living room. So I asked him about the porcelain birds.

He told me that he had a small store in Trenton and one of the things he sold was souvenir plates with, “Welcome to Trenton N.J.” on them. Then he told me, “One day a man dropped into the store and spotted the plates. He asked to see one of them and said, ‘This is good work. Do you know the person who makes them?’ I told him that I did.’ Well, the man said, ‘Anytime you want to work for me, just give me a call.’”

The man was Mr. Boehm and he made the famous Boehm Birds and the ones in the glass cabinets were some that Anthony helped design.

He took one out and handed it to me. I asked him how much this one was worth. He looked at it and said, “That one is worth about $1500 dollars.” “Ooops,” I quickly handed the glass bird back to him.

While driving home, while looking out the front window of my car, the words of Jesus hit me. “You are worth more than a whole flock of sparrows.” I remember saying there is a sermon here. I remember milking that experience in a sermon. We are worth more than a whole cabinet full of Boehm birds. I added, “Some people treat collector’s items and this and that as more important than persons.”

Somewhere along the line this theme of Jesus recognizing and acknowledging people has entered into my spirituality.

I got this from my dad and from so many others. Thank you.

Just yesterday, I’m standing there at the hors d’oeuvres part of a wedding reception. I find myself talking to one of the men who were serving us. I found out he was from the Philippines. I also found out he made the big ice sculpture on the table next to the dip and the veggies – a sail boat made out of ice. I also found out where he learned to carve ice and wood – all the while trying to be aware that his job was to serve.

And I get home last night and start reading today’s readings to get a sermon for today. Surprise! The first reading talks about Jeremiah recognizing he was going through some tough times – but he still acknowledges God. The Gospel talks about how Jesus recognized and acknowledged how everyone is more important than a whole flock of sparrows.

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily is, “Recognition and Acknowledgment.”

Why do we come to Mass?

The first and obvious reason is that we recognize we need God and we want to acknowledge God. Lots of people recognize God. Not everyone acknowledges God. Being here is like being like that teenager who recognizes the famous person and goes over and asks for their autograph.

The second reason we come to Mass is to be challenged to go out from Mass and recognize not just the famous – but to see that every person we’re going to be with this week is worth being with this week. Spot folks this week – especially the little folks. Recognize and acknowledge them – even if you only look into their eye for a hundredth of a second. Amen.

* Boehm Chipping Sparrow

with Clematis

Porceline Sculpture

THE PUZZLE CALLED “GOD.”

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Puzzle Called ‘God’”.

There are 6 billion plus people on this planet – and there have been billions of people who have gone before us – and we assume there will be billions more to come.

Am I am just one piece of the puzzle?

Am I just one piece of the picture of God?

TIME OUT

Some times we take time out to try to understand this puzzle called “life” – this puzzle called “me” – this puzzle called “God”.

It could be while we are on vacation – and we’re taking an early morning stroll – an early morning all alone moment – walking along on the beach – and we look down and see all that sand – millions and billions of tiny different colored grains of sand – or we see a sand castle someone made the day before – half crumbled, half washed out – or we look out at the wide ocean – and we stop to watch wave after wave after wave of water coming in – and it’s been doing this for billions of years – steady, steady, steady, sometimes calm, sometimes crashing. Why, why, why?

What’s the answer to the “Why?” for all this?

I ponder. I wonder. I try to figure out the puzzle.

I pray.

Sometimes all I hear is silence – in this conversation with God questions, this conversation called, “Prayer.”

But there have been moments – like those vacation moments on morning beaches or night moments when I look and scan the skies and see those billions and billions of stars up there. Yes, sometimes I get answers – wow have I had answers – not enough, but I’ve had answers, and I guess that’s why I keep coming back to pray – that’s why I keep coming back to church.

I sit back in the church bench, or the beach chair – or the porch chair late at night – after all have gone to bed. Sometimes I know God is near. Sometimes I feel God is here.

CALLED TO CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN

As I sit back from time to time, I remember a moment I had a long time ago. I don’t know if it was a dream – or what it was. But I heard God call me to climb a mountain. I was like Moses – being called by God to climb up a mountain – as we heard in today’s first reading.

I climbed and climbed and climbed. Finally, I heard God telling me to stop and look down to the valley below. I see this gigantic box. The lid is off. I look into the box and I see billions and billions of pieces of the jigsaw puzzle called “God”. I look outside the box and see billions and billions of people in the valley outside the box. Some are fitting together. Some are not.

I’m puzzled. What is the meaning of what I’m looking at?

Is it this: The history and mystery of life is the putting together of this great puzzle called, “God”?

Is God telling each of us that each piece is part of the picture called “God”?

And just as the cardboard pieces of a jigsaw puzzle – showing a beautiful mountain scene or a picture of sailboats in a bay are not the mountain scene or the sailboats in the bay – so too we are not God. We know we are not God. We know that all too well.

And we know people can hurt people and be so unGodlike – and we know we have hurt people.
Yet we know that people can be like God. We’ve met so many people who have been so generous, so loving, so giving, so amazing.

As scripture tells us, “We are made in the image and likeness of God” [Genesis 1:27]

I continue to wonder about the time I was called to climb the mountain and look down and see that open puzzle box. Is the message this: every time we mirror God, every time we image God, we help others catch a glimpse of God?

Is that it? Is that the message of life? Is that the purpose of life? Is it to mirror God?

Is the message: every person is necessary to complete the puzzle – whether our name is one of the names mentioned in today’s gospel, Peter or Andrew, or James, or whether we’re one of the unnamed people mentioned in today’s gospel, the sick or the lost? Are we all necessary pieces of this puzzle called, “God”?

I remember standing there on the mountain looking down – and I said, “Aha. That’s the meaning of it all. I’m having an ‘Aha!’ moment.”

I remember sitting down on a rock – up there on the mountain – scratching my head – pondering, wondering, do I have it right? Is that the meaning of that mountain vision I had a long time ago?

What was God trying to tell me that day when I had that strange – surrealistic experience?

From time to time, I sit back and ask God over and over again, “Why did You call me up that mountain and show me that gigantic half empty, half full box of people down below in the valley?”

FATHER’S DAY

It’s Father’s day – we think of our dads – how he was so like God – providing for us – teaching us quiet love – teaching us giving love – teaching us so much – with so few words.

We think of Tim Russert – figuring every preacher in the United States will probably mention him today – and his relationship to his dad – as well as his family dealing with his death – his wife, Maureen, and his one son, Luke, and his three sisters – and his dad – all still living.

Yes, we think to ourselves. Every time a father gives, protects, loves, leads, shepherds, he is telling us what God is like.

No wonder Jesus often talked about God as Father.

MOTHERS

We think of our moms – all they do and did for us. No wonder Jesus used that image for God as well – not as much as Our Father – but we laugh, women have the last laugh – because the Church has ever since put Mary his mother on a pedestal – telling us how to love one another as she loved.

OURSELVES

We become quiet. We have learned that prayer is quiet much more than words. We remember sitting up there on that rock – on that mountain – looking down at that that big box in that valley below.

We see groups of people paring off – not willing to be part of the task of putting the puzzle together. We see individuals and groups fighting with each other. We see people ignoring each other. We see some people still stuck in that box.

From a distance – from high up that mountain – we see the craziness of it all.

We see Christ walking through the valley trying to bring the pieces of the puzzle together.

We realize the meaning of the opening words of today’s gospel, “At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.”

We see Jesus calling people pieces of the puzzle to join him as he says, “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.”

We see so many having eyes that don’t see him, ears that don’t hear him, feet that don’t follow him.

We think back to a moment during a summer vacation – when we were with a whole collection of cousins and aunts and uncles at the beach, and we found a jigsaw puzzle – 2,500 pieces – and we went around trying to round up volunteers to work on the puzzle and nobody wanted to join us.

We look down from the mountain and see Jesus or his disciples being rejected down there. Nobody seems to want to work together to put the puzzle together.

Sitting there on the mountain seeing all this – seeing that gigantic puzzle down there, I say to God, “Do I have it right? Is that the meaning of what I’m seeing?”

And all I hear are the closing words of today’s gospel, “Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”

Frustrated, I blurt out to Jesus, “Every time I want a clear answer, you give me silence or these word puzzles. I want more of an answer than that.”

But that’s the only answer I get at that moment.

I become quiet – pondering, wondering – trying to figure out these puzzling words.

Is this the meaning? Is life all gift? And then we give the gift of our life to others. Is that it: that we too have to say what Jesus said, “This is my body. This is my blood. I’m giving my life to you. Take and eat. Take and drink. Eat me up.”

We think for a moment. We pinch ourselves. “Yes, I have been gifted with the gift of life? Thank you mom and thank you dad. Thank you God.”

We continue, “But, God, why me? Why was I created? Why am I alive? Why do some people only have a few moments of life and others have years? Why do some people have 21 years and 2 months and die in a car crash or in a bomb exploding and another lives to 58 years and another makes it to 88?”

CONCLUSION

What is the meaning of life? It’s all so puzzling?

We laugh. Is that the answer? Life is a puzzle – and that I am a piece of the puzzle?

Then I realize it’s time to come down from the mountain and go back down to the valley. I am out of the box.

But now, because of my mountain experience, I have an answer. I am to be like God. I am to go around and try to fit together with others and slowly we’ll put together this jigsaw puzzle called “God”.

SHAKY
MARRIAGE

It takes
two
to triangle.

Paradoxical sayings # 1

GRADUATION

Graduation,
and congratulations,
hats or caps tossed
high into the sky
with great abandon.
Who knows where
we’ll all land?

Ten, twenty-five,
fifty years from now,
some of us will be
back to tell our stories –
where we landed,
whom we loved,
and what happened?

There will be laughter,
hugs, and total surprises.
Who’s that over there?
You’re kidding.
Then stunned silence
when we hear about
this one and that one
buried far, far, from where
their cap landed that day.

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

Picture on top thanks

to Jennifer Dieux

and St . Mary's Annapolis

Web Site

SAINT AND SINNER *

[I found today’s readings tricky – wondering last night where to go with a sermon? I knew the church would be hot – so I better not go too long. Then it hit me, “Why not write a story** to try to pull together today’s readings?” So here it is, “Saint and Sinner.”]

St. Rita’s needed a new pastor. The well-loved, long time pastor was retiring. St. Rita’s wasn’t the largest parish in the diocese; nor was it the smallest. The powers that be knew it needed more than one priest – but it didn’t need two priests – at least that was the diagnosis – especially because the priest pool in the diocese was rather thin. What to do?

“Why don’t we move Father Joe Riley from Black Lake?”

“No,” said the bishop. “He could do it. He’s a dynamo – but he’s doing such a great job at Black Lake – and he’s really just getting started there.”

Silence.

There was a lot of finger tapping and chin rubbing at the big table as the clock ticked, ticked, ticked in the diocesan planning room.

“How about putting together three older guys as a team? I heard that has worked in some dioceses, that is, if you can put the right three guys together.”

“No way!”

“Wait a minute. Whom would you suggest?”

“I would think that Bartelli, Manucci and Balboa would work together fine.”

“Are you crazy?” one of the priests at the table said. “They have been great friends all through the years. Why would you want to ruin their friendship and the vacations they always take together – by having them work together?”

“Well, I just thought that the people of Mountainview would love them. They are good guys. They’re close to retirement – and I think they would do good work there – as well as enjoy life together. Why not think outside the box?”

“No way,” said Father Mike Minnelli – three Italians in a mostly Irish parish. Are you crazy?”

“Wait a minute,” said Father Tom Nelson. “Why not put an old guy who’s semi-retired, with a young guy who could use some of an old guy’s experience?”

“But who?” said the bishop.

Silence.

“How about Matt Tobin and that young priest, Father William French?”

Silence. A lot of silence.

“Let’s take a break. Let’s think about it, and let’s come back in fifteen minutes.”

The diocesan team who make these diocesan decisions took their break and mulled over possibilities. Three guys went walking and did a bit of talking. Two guys dropped into the church and said another prayer to the Holy Spirit that they make good decisions for the people of their diocese.

They were back to work in 30 minutes. 15 minute breaks always take 30 minutes at least.

They made their decision. “Why not? Why not give the young guy, Father William French, ordained 3 years – his first pastor’s job – and give him Matt Tobin – ordained 22 years as his assistant?”

Two members of the committee were skeptical – especially when they made a comment or two about Matt’s health. The other 8 members said, “You have to work with what you have.” The bishop said, “Let me give both of them a call and see if they would be open to being at St. Rita’s in Mountainview.”

Both were called and both said, “Yes” – neither knowing each other.

Father William French called Father Matt Tobin that afternoon to ask him if he thought this would work.

Matt had been through a lot. He had seen lots of priests – young, old and in between – in his 22 years as a priest.

He said to Father William French, “Congratulations. It will be an honor to work with you in your first time as pastor. You’ll do fine. And by the way, I better check this out with you before anything else. Would it be a problem with you, if I brought my dog?”

Father French said, “That’s funny. I was just going to ask you the same question. Would it be all right if I brought my dog?”

They both laughed.

They both showed up on August 1st with their stuff and with their dogs. The people in the parish were nervous – wondering what these two priests would be like.

The first piece of news that spread through the parish was: “These two priests are as different as night and day. Father French wears French cuffs and is always in his black suit. Father Tobin is all t-shirt. And you’re going to love this. One has a Rottweiller named 'Saint' and the other has a terrier named 'Sinner'. Now what are the odds for that to happen?”

It worked. The team of Fathers French and Tobin worked well for 8 long years together. It took time for the people of Mountainview to get used to their two new priests – but in time – complaints and comments – suggestions and snipes – all but disappeared.

Silence.

That Saturday morning – St. Rita’s Church was filled. In fact, they had to set up extra speakers

and TV monitors in the hall for the overflow crowd from the church. It was the funeral Mass for Father Matt Tobin. He died suddenly last Tuesday while visiting a nursing home with his boots on – yes boots – and everyone was there at the funeral – including his dog, “Saint” – sitting in his regular place – in front of the pulpit – next to his buddy, “Sinner” the terrier.

And Father Bill French - yes, his name switched from William to Bill in about a year’s time – along with the disappearance of the French cuffs – and black suit jacket – except for funerals, weddings and formal occasions. Most of the time it was his blue St. Rita’s jacket – a gift the parish had given to both he and Father Matt their first Christmas there.

Father French stood there in the pulpit – with the bishop and personnel board – and about 40 other priests – sitting there in the front benches wondering what kind of a preacher he was – and what he would say about Father Matt Tobin – so, so different from him.

Father Bill began. “Eight years ago – when Matt and I were put together as an experiment – I wondered – I really wondered if this would work out. We were as different as our dogs – a Rottweiller and a Terrier – Saint and Sinner – sitting here in front of the pulpit this morning."

Silence! The parish was used to these dogs sometimes attending Mass; sometimes not. The bishop and the priests were somewhat taken back.

The Bishop wondered to himself, “Was there a Canon Law or a diocesan regulation somewhere that priests could not have their dogs in the sanctuary at Mass?”

Father Bill continued:

“Matt taught me not only how to be a priest; he taught me how to be a human being.

“I was too stiff, too formal, too stuck on my self. I was wine; Matt was Budweiser. I was upper crust; Matt was crumb. That’s not my description. That was Matt’s of us.

“For today’s gospel, I chose the call of Matthew from his Gospel – not just because of Father Matt – but because he often told me in our many late night chats together – that he loved St. Matthew – because before he became a priest, he too was a sinner like St. Matthew. You all know he didn’t enter the priesthood till after his 12 years in the army – two tours in Vietnam – his 4 years of floundering after that - his ‘tour of sins’ as he called them, his mistakes –– till he finally realized Jesus calls sinners and eats with them.

“He brought all his experiences – sins and talents - with him into the priesthood, so that everyone felt at home with him.

“That first year, I felt so inferior to him – till he helped me and so many people in this parish who took ourselves too seriously to relax and become at home with ourselves. And he taught us this without saying a word.”

The whole church exploded with “Amen’s” at that. The bishop and priests up front – were completely surprised – not knowing whether to laugh or what. They didn’t have the St. Rita Experience – where each Sunday liturgy was better or different than the week before. The unspoken slogan, the unwritten mission statement for the parish was, “If these two guys, and these two dogs, can be so friendly, we all can be friendly with each other.”

Father Bill went on:

“I was opera; he was country western. But guess what, he went with me at least once a year to the opera and I went with him to a country western concert once - only once?

“I was 'Rush!'; he was 'Slow down!'

“I was main highways; he was back roads.

“I was into climbing the ladder of success; he taught me there are no ladders when it comes to love.

“He taught me the meaning of the Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew – words that Jesus stole from the Prophet Hosea, “It is mercy and love that I desire, not sacrifice.” Till I met Matt those were just words. I saw him make those words real – with his seeing people as people. We’re all sinners – all needy, all needing and wanting and hungry for a place at God’s table. I was a Pharisee without knowing how taxing I could be to others. I was sacrificing my life for the Church without knowing my face and my attitude was lacking the message: we’re all here because we need to love and be loved and understand and accept each other.

“Matt taught me that Jesus laughed. He was fond of saying, ‘You’ll never find it written in the scriptures that Jesus laughed – but every time we learn to laugh at ourselves, listen, and you’ll hear Jesus laughing along with you.’"

Silence.

“Matt told me I preach too long, so I better end right now. Can’t you hear him going, ‘Hm, hm,’ in the casket there?

“I want to thank God for a wonderful priest, Father Matthew Tobin – known to all of us here at St. Rita’s as Matt.

“The parish wants to thank the Bishop and the personnel board – or whoever it was that came up with the crazy idea 8 years ago of putting together a Saint with this Sinner. Thank you. Amen.”

* I found the pictures of these two dogs on the internet - under Terrier and Rottweiller

** Someone asked me after Mass if this story is true - and I blurted out, "It is a totally made up story. It's fiction. I have nobody and no place in mind."

THE FOUR
LEGS OF THE CHAIR
CALLED ‘ME’

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Four Legs of the Chair Called ‘Me’.”

The chairs here in the sanctuary at St. Mary’s are not all the same. The big chair there – that the priest sits on – has good strong legs. It feels secure. The other chairs sometimes feel “iffy”. I’ve sat on both.

Out at St. John Neumann’s, the chairs are all very sturdy. The benches there are also strong. They also have a nice “cushy” feeling compared to the benches here – which are squeaky, “uncushy”, and sometimes feel “uh ohy”.

We’ve all had the experience of sitting on a chair that didn’t seem that strong.

If we were to describe ourselves as a chair, would I be strong or “uh ohy”?

Answering that question for ourselves would be the gist or theme or point or subject of my homily for today.

TODAY’S GOSPEL

In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses the image of a house. He challenges us to look at the foundation words of our house.

Today’s gospel is the dramatic ending of the Sermon on the Mount: the contrast of being wise or being foolish. However, we might have lost the beauty of the Sermon on the Mount with Lent and then all these recent Sunday feasts that knocked out these Sunday readings from the Sermon on the Mount.

Matthew gathered all these quick quotes or key sayings of Jesus about how to do life – like not judging others, turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, forgiving and settling grievances, fasting and praying and giving money to be seen by God not others, not being a phony, traveling through the narrow gate, treating others the way you would like to be treated, etc. Then Jesus says, “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like the wise person who built his house on rock. The rain feel, the floods came, and the wind blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been built solidly on rock.”

Jesus was a carpenter. He knew how to build a strong house.

I could have used the image of a house for this sermon, but I thought a chair might be more familiar – unless you’re an engineer or a carpenter. Carpenters build chairs as well.

How strong is your house? How strong is the chair called “you”?

BUILT ON WORDS – PRINCIPLES - VALUES
Hopefully, what I said so far is fairly clear. Now let me move towards the more complicated.

Today’s first reading from Deuteronomy 11 talks about the Jewish practice of wearing phylacteries – a small box – or a pouch – with leather straps so one could wear the box around one’s head or around one’s wrist. The box would have 4 small compartments – each containing key words from the Jewish scriptures. The idea was to keep God’s words ever before one’s mind and sight.

Interesting. It might seem strange, yet people today have tattoos, t-shirts, bumper stickers, signs, this and that, with favorite sayings or words on them.

If I asked you to come up with four principles – four sayings – for the four legs of the chair that holds up your life, what would you come up with?

As I began to reflect upon this question, I realized it’s quite a challenge. Secondly, I said to myself, “I can’t ask people to do this, if I don’t do this myself.” And the answers are not out there in some book. They are in here – in my life.

When we die, people will sit there in the funeral parlor or at the church service and pull together for themselves, who we are – what made us tick.

What makes us tick? What moves us? What are we off on?

Why wait till we die, till this be known?

Six years ago I was changed from St. Gerard’s Church in Lima, Ohio to here in Annapolis. After the last mass, on the last Sunday I was there, they had coffee and donuts in the church hall for folks who wanted to say, “Good bye.” There was a microphone and different folks got up and several gave their take on me. It was like being at your own funeral. Thank God no enemies showed up. Sitting there was quite an eye opener.

What is your take on yourself?

Could you list 4 of your life principles?

LIFE PRINCIPLES
What do I mean by life principles?

Let me give two from somewhere else, and then give the 4 legs of the chair called me.

We might remember the scene on TV with Ronald Reagan standing there on the lawn outside the White House. I think it was near the end of his presidency . Nancy is sort of just behind him. Reporters are firing questions about something at him. The microphones pick up something Nancy Reagan says to Ronald. “Tell them, you’re doing the best you can.”

Is that one of life’s principles that people go by each day? Was that one of Nancy Reagan’s life principles? “Try to do the best you can.” Whether you’re president or first lady or parent or an insurance salesperson, you try to do the best each day each day.

That’s an example of what I would call a life principle.

The second I noticed in yesterday’s paper. Now I’m not trying to get into politics in the pulpit. One of my principles is not to go there.

The article in the paper said that some people were angry at Scott McClellan for coming out with his memoirs entitled, What Happened. The writer of the article contrasted two principles: loyalty and honesty. They are not contradictory – but they can cause conflict.

Using them as two contrasts, if you were a president or a boss, if there was a conflict between honesty and loyalty, which would you want?

The author of the article prefers honestly. (1)

Now if you understand what I’m getting at when I use the phrase, “Life Principles,” I can move on to my listing of my 4 principles – or the 4 legs of the chair called me.

Now whether this is really me, cedes to action. Talk is cheap. Actions speak louder than words. I’m sure those who know me, know me better than I know myself.

FIRST PRINCIPLE: HAVE A GOOD TIME

The first principle that makes me tick is: Have a Good Time.

This is not a “churchy” theme. In fact, it feels at first a bit embarrassing. I remember reading a statement by an English priest who said, “When Jesus spoke, they wanted to crucify him. When I speak, they invite me to tea.”

Yet, to be honest, I have to say, “Have a good time” is one of my life principles. Are you having a good time being at Mass right now?

My first assignment was that of being a parish priest on the Lower East side of Manhattan. I had no clue where to begin. So I visited people who were “shut in” – and I did this and that. I wish I knew Spanish better.

Then after two years I got changed to a retreat house in New Jersey. They wanted a young guy to do high school retreats.

Every weekend there were adult retreats – mostly men’s retreats.

I began to hear men say, “I wish I had come here earlier in my life.” When probing the why, I found out that various men said they had made a high school retreat when they were young and it was all prayer – all kneeling – not much fun.

So I tried to make high school retreats an enjoyable experience, with the hope that when they were in college, or married, when they heard someone pushing a Marriage Encounter Weekend or a retreat weekend or an adult ed program, they would say to themselves, “”Hey I did that in high school and it was a good experience. Okay. Sign me up.”

I was stationed there for 7 years. Next I was in another retreat house for 7 years. I did the same thing there – trying to make each retreat a life giving, enjoyable experience.

Next, I had the job of novice master for 9 years – for 9 classes of young men hoping to become Redemptorists. It was like 9 weekend retreats – each one taking a year. Well, I had heard many Redemptorists say their novice year was the worst year of their life in becoming a Redemptorist. Well, I didn’t want to hear that for the rest of my life whenever I would meet someone I had as a novice. So I tried to make it a wonderful year – a year when each of us was having the time of our life.

Next, for 8 ½ years I was in Ohio preaching parish missions – as well as priests and nuns retreats in the off season around the country – and I tried to make them a “Having a good time” experience as well.

Then I was stationed here at St. Mary’s. I was back to being a parish priest again – away from it since 1969. It struck me doing funerals and weddings that some of these people were not Catholic – and some of these Catholic folks were not going to Mass, so I tried to make the wedding or funeral personal – and a joyful experience. My goal was basic: that people would say, “That wasn’t too bad.” Better: “That was a good experience. Maybe I ought to get back to church. Maybe I’m missing the time of my life.”

And I have heard several people say that: Praise God.

So that’s my first principle – the first leg of the chair called, “me”.

Have a good time!

SECOND PRINCIPLE: JESUS IS MY LORD AND REDEEMER
My second principle is Jesus is my Redeemer.

These next three life principles will be shorter, otherwise you won’t be having a good time.

At the age of 20, in my novitiate year, the reality of Jesus – and following him – being connected to him – hit me big time. Jesus is the core of my life. Jesus, someone who died 2000 years ago, is someone that I can be in communion with today. So my life is based on Jesus Christ being not only a teacher, a great historical figure, but Jesus being the Son of God. I can relate to him – pray to and with him – and follow him. Now this is quite a gamble with one’s life – my doing it as a Redemptorist. I know Protestants often like to proclaim, "Jesus is Lord!" This was something that I was brought up as a Redemptoristl The founder of the Redemptorists begins his key book, The Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, this way: “The whole sanctity and perfection of a soul consists in loving Jesus Christ, our God, our sovereign good, and our Redeemer.” Modern English translation: “The whole story is Jesus.” Or as St. Paul puts it in Philippians 2:5, "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus."

So Jesus is the second leg of my chair.

THIRD PRINCIPLE: WE’RE MARBLED

My third principle – the third reality I go by is that we are marbled. We are flawed. We have been broken and repaired many times. If we looked at the legs of the chair of our life, we would see where parts of us have been broken. We have snapped at times and it took good glue to get us back together again.

We make mistakes. Of course, we do good, but each of us as we heard in today’s second reading “have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.” Paul too then says that Jesus Christ is the one who can make us right.

As I look at my life – as priest as I listen to the lives of others – as I live with other priests – it’s very apparent to me – that we human beings are marbled.

This can lead to cynicism, complaining, whining, griping, but it can also lead to conversion, grace, forgiveness, laughter and understanding.

It's easier to see other's faults and foibles - better than our own.

Name your addiction. Name your poison. Name your problem.

"Let him or her without sin cast the first stone." (Cf. John 8:7b.)

Or as Jesus put it in the Sermon on the Mount, "Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not see the log in your own eye" (Matthew 7:3)

I was at a funeral recently – and at the dinner afterwards I could see 3 of the children of the person who died, smoking. And I was saying to myself that the person who died could have had a couple more years if she didn’t smoke.

Smoking, overeating, over drinking, over TV or computering, not exercising – the stories of crimes and stupidity – are all part of life. We are marbled.

FOURTH AND LAST PRINCIPLE: WE’RE ALL DIFFERENT

The fourth and last principle is we are all different.

One of the things that drives me crazy – is this thing in the church as well as in many other places that we are all supposed to think the same.

We’re don’t. We’re different.

To me pluralism is not an issue. It’s a reality.

Matthew is different from Mark. Mark is different from Luke. And Matthew, Mark and Luke are different from John. And they are different from Paul and Mary – and on and on and on.

Of course 3 apples plus 2 apples is 5 apples. Of course, we have the Creed in our Church – and we say it in unity. But take a good look at those apples. Listen carefully to the nuances of theology and preaching and understanding – about the different articles of the Creed.

God is a Trinity of persons. We are a billionity of persons.

We are different as Adam is to Eve, Cain is to Abel, Martha is to Mary.

This is so obvious, that it can be oblivious at times.

It provides song lines like, “Why can a woman be more like a man” in My Fair Lady when Professor Higgins asks Pickering that question over and over again in the song, “A Hymn to Him.”

I am often reminded of the saying, “The greatest sin is our inability to accept the otherness of the other person.”

CONCLUSION

There I did it. That’s my chair – as I sit on it on June 1st, 2008.

Sit on a chair this week and come up with the four legs of your chair. If you’re married, have your spouse come up with your four and vice versa, and don’t forget to laugh when you hear the differences in each other’s answers – and make sure you are having the time of your life.



(1) Gail Collins, “What George Forgot,” N. Y. Times, Op-Ed column, May 31, 2008