PETER AND PAUL

INTRODUCTION

[The title of my homily or reflection for today is, “Peter and Paul.” The scene is Rome. The year is 67 – the estimated year both Peter and Paul were killed in Rome.]

Good morning.

My name is Peter. [Step out of the pulpit to let Paul speak.]
And my name is Paul.

Both of us are here today to say something about ourselves. This is a little bit embarrassing – but we have this feast day named after us – so someone suggested we give a bit of a bio about ourselves and make a few comments.

I defer to Peter, our leader, “Papa”, or “Abba”, to speak first. [Step out of the pulpit to let Peter speak.]

Okay, thank you, Paul. Let me say a bit about myself – some background and then how I was blessed to meet Jesus Christ.

I was a fisherman – just an ordinary fisherman. My brother Andrew and I would have simply been fishermen all our lives – and we would have been part of the millions and millions and millions of people nobody ever heard of – except our families and our village.

Sometimes our nets were full and sometimes it seemed that the whole Lake of Galilee was empty of fish.

Then one day – we had just fished all night long and caught nothing – this traveling carpenter came along and spoke to the crowds not too far from my partners’ and our two boats. We were cleaning our nets and this Jesus was preaching. The crowd was building up the more he spoke.

Then this Jesus, to better reach the crowd, gets into my boat and preaches some more. We could hear his words – and we wondered who he was.

Then, surprise, he spots me and calls me over and says, “Let’s go out into the deep water and lower those nets for a catch of fish!”

I said to him, “Fish? Look, we spent the whole night fishing and caught nothing.”

Silence.

My brother Andrew was wondering what I would do next.

Well, there was something about this Jesus, that got me to say, “Okay.”

We go out into the deep water and we lowered our nets for a catch. The nets suddenly were full. I said, “Now we know where the fish were hiding.” The nets were almost breaking, so we called to our partners, James and John, who were on the shore. They jumped into the other boat and came out to help us. We filled both boats till they were almost sinking.

Suddenly, I felt a gigantic “Uh oh” filling this little boat called me. I said, “Lord, leave me alone. I am a sinful man.”

He smiled and said, “Don’t be afraid – from now on it’s going to be people whom you’ll be catching.”

So that’s how I got into his boat. That’s how I became his disciple.

It became quite a voyage. He netted me with one toss.

I saw it all – crowds wanting to make him king; scribes and Pharisees wanting to see him dead.

He went around preaching, reaching out, healing, helping, feeding, challenging folks.

Oh, I had my doubts at times. Oh, I put my foot into my mouth a few times – but Jesus could see right through me every time – and let me tell you, I learned first hand, that life calls for forgiveness, 70 times 7 times forgiveness – every day forgiveness.

At our Last Supper together he told us, he was going to be arrested and killed. If he knew where fish were, he knew where his enemies were.

Then he said to us, “When the shepherd is caught, the sheep will be scattered.”

At that I jumped up and said, “Even if every one of us loses faith in you, I will never lose faith.”

He spoke back words that still burn me like fingers accidentally touching a red hot coal. “I’m telling you right here, right now, before the cock crows tomorrow morning, you will disown me three times.”

At that I shot back, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.”

Sure enough, I hate to admit it, that night I denied him three times. And every morning since, when the roosters start screaming, the memory of my sin starts screaming.

But, as I said, Jesus is all about forgiveness.

There we were fishing after his death – back up in Galilee. We're on the lake, he's on the shore. Once more we caught nothing. Once more he tells us where to fish. Once more our nets are full. At that I jumped into the water and headed for him on the shore.

Surprise. Jesus is always the Lord of Surprises. There he is – The Risen Lord - making breakfast for us – with fish! I often wonder where did he get that fish – and why did he tell us to fish?

I know – I know why he told us to fish.

Anyway, he the carpenter, told me the fishermen, to feed the flock. He was always doing that - mixing his messages with an array of images. He knew how to catch people like fish or find people who were lost sheep.

Well, I ended up preaching about this Jesus. This Jesus who is one of us and one with God – human and divine – truly “the Christ, the Son of the living God” and our brother – crucified but risen – dead but alive – gone but here – present in the broken bread and present in the starving brother or sister without daily bread.

I preached about him in many places. I brought his presence to Antioch and to Rome. I ended up being the head guy – without wanting it. He knew that people would say this is real – because it was so unreal – a fisherman called to be the “papa” or “abba” - the first of the group – a sinner whom sinners could relate to.

Enough. I’m sure you much rather hear from Paul. But be alert while he speaks. I’m sure you heard about what happened when he was speaking one night in Troas. A young man named Eutychus was sitting on the windowsill while Paul was preaching. This young man fell asleep and fell out the window to three floors below. Here’s Paul. Hang onto your seats. (Cf. Acts 20:7-12) [Step out of the pulpit to let Paul speak.]

Thank you Peter for telling them that. I noticed while you were speaking a few people were sleeping. And by the way, the boy lived – and I went back upstairs and continued preaching till the morning.

Peter and I didn’t always get along – but that’s the beauty of this church Jesus started – so many different personalities becoming one body.

I was a tent maker who became angry with these followers of Jesus who were ripping the fabric of Judaism apart. I made it my goal to do all I could to stop them – to stop people from following Jesus. Then in the midst of my angry march to stop Christ, he knocked me to the ground. I couldn’t see, because I was so blind. My darkness which I thought was light, blinded his light – which I thought was darkness.

Slowly Jesus, the Risen One, dawned on me. Jesus pushed his way into my life and I began to see who he was and what he was about. Once that happened nothing could stop me. I found myself saying, “I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me.”

I began to see Jesus in his disciples, in his followers, in everyone – that the church has all sorts of folks. It’s like a body – some are handy; some do the foot work; some are all heart; some are the backbone of the community; someone needs to be the head; some need to be ears, good listeners; some have to be seers, people who can see through things; some have to be mouth – proclaimers and teachers.

I was mouth and foot and ear. I went everywhere – watching first and then speaking – all though the Mediterranean Basin – trying to start communities, churches, bodies of Christ everywhere. I would go to Jewish settlements first. Some got the message that Jesus came to renew Israel not to destroy it.

Like Peter, I was jailed. Like Peter, I was chained. Like Peter, Christ was my strength. Like Peter, Christ kept rescuing me.

Like Peter I wrote letters back to Christian communities to encourage and to challenge them. They probably tore them up – but I hope they heard what I was trying to write to them.

Somewhere along the line it hit me: what about the rest of the world – the world beyond Judaism. What about the Gentiles? That was the big question – the defining moment and decision that had to be made. I know that you Peter had trouble with that one, but I did too. I’m glad we all saw the call to reach out to all. You reneged on this Peter, but that’s human nature, but then you rose to new life. Move two inches, go back one inch. Go three inches, go back one inch – but ever onwards.

We both realized the place to fish was not just the Lake of Galilee, but the whole Mediterranean Sea. And I hear there is an ocean beyond that - that we are to fish with Christ everywhere.

So here we are in Rome – pope and preacher. Here we are in the head city of the world and once more people want to kill Christ. Here we are – still fishing and still searching for lost sheep.

I guess that’s what this church will be doing till the end of time.

Calling on all to board the boat. Let’s go out into the deep waters and lower our nets for a catch – nets full of fish and nets full of sheep.

THE SPARROW’S WHY

This morning, walking up the street,
I spotted a dead sparrow on the ground.
Immediately came an inner blurt,
“God, why this sparrow? Tell me why?”
After all, you said, “None falls to the ground
without you knowing it.”*
Was it this one’s time to die
and no longer fly and twist and turn
in a morning sky?
Tell me the story
what this sparrow did
with the gift of his or her life?
Broken shells in a nest
speak nothing except unknown next;
broken ground in the cemetery
gives only the silent scream,
“We had our turn. We had our turn.”
And only we know the answer to our “why?”
And hopefully we know it before we die.
Only we can share the answer to each other

before others spot us in the ground.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections 2008

*Cf. Matthew 10:29;

Luke 24:13-35

*

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."