MY LIFE


Surprised
by YOU.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

SOME PEOPLE

Standing there listening to you
was like being attacked by a mosquito.
Your words kept coming, bugging me,
with no fresh breeze to keep you away,
your too many biting, “I... I ... I’s”

Standing there avoiding your eyes,
hoping you would fly away like the waitress
with the hors d’oeuvres. I don’t want
to nibble on your tiny tooth picked comments.
I just want to be here and enjoy the party.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

THE OTHER SIDE

A black fly lay there dead,
an upside down untouchable,
on my cold chipped,
white enamel window sill.

Undertaker, I picked you up
with a sheet of clean white paper,
with the plan of burying you
in the plastic bag
in my waste paper basket.

Suddenly, you moved.
You gave life one last dance,
one last chance, I guess,
to get beyond the window,
to get to where you wanted
to go in the first place.
Don’t we all? Don’t we all?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DISUNITED STATES

It seems to me that people
live in different states.
It seems to me
that’s what we all do.
How about you?
Where do you live
most of the time?

Of course we’re not always

in the same place or space.

We take vacations.

We take trains or drive
to different moods –so the saying,
“Lion at home; lamb abroad!”

Yet people seem to live

in one state most of the time.

What state are you usually in?

Optimist? Pessimist?

Right? Wrong?

Conservative? Liberal?

Up? Down? In? Out?

Talker? Listener?

Rich? Poor? In Between?

Stuck? Stupid? Free and Easy?

Use Labels? Hate Labels?


Me? Maybe you have to ask those
whom I live and work with for the
answer to that question.

Me? If I have to answer for myself,
I choose not to live in a Dark Mood
or Sad Brood, or Down State.
Of course, I cross those state lines

from time to time, but most of the time,

I chose to live in the state of Grace,

the state of Smile, Joy, Laughter, and Peace.

How about you? What state
do you live in most of the time?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DEATH

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Death.”

Yep, that’s the topic that hit me when I read today’s readings.

Death.

Then I said, “Uh oh! Death is not a theme for a summer Sunday sermon. Maybe an All Souls Day sermon in November when the leaves are falling from the trees – but not a summer Sunday sermon. [Say that 10 times fast!]

Yet, the theme of death still hit me. We’ve been having a lot of funerals lately – a lot. Was that the reason the theme hit me? Nope.

Then we have this upsurge of deaths in Iraq and there was endless commentary on the news about Michael Jackson’s death – with a few comments about Farah Fawcett’s death by cancer. Was that the reason I began thinking about death? Nope.

The other day I read the following quote by a man named Alan Harris, “The road to hell is littered with the manuscripts of church sermons written late on Saturday.”

Now that made me say, “Uh oh!” I do many Sunday sermons on Saturdays – sometimes late Saturdays – unless I have the 4:30 at St. John Neumann or the 5 here on Saturday evening. Then I do that sermon on Saturday during the day. I used to be able to write sermons well in advance, but ever since I got to St. Mary’s, I’ve found out. I can only do one at a time. Like yesterday I had to come up with two new homilies – each homily 3 1/2 pages long – for two weddings. Someone said, “Use the same homily for each wedding.” I answered, “They are two totally different couples.” And then there are homilies for weekday masses. That’s a lot of preaching. So with the 2 wedding homilies, I did 7 different homilies this past week.

Too much – the result being sermons without enough thought and prayer in them. Some might say, “No, you’re okay.” I say, “No. I need to do more reflection!" I know this place is very busy. So after some sermons, I’ve find myself saying, “You just gave sizzle, instead of giving steak.”

WHY THIS TOPIC OF DEATH?

Answer: the opening words of today’s first reading: “God did not make death…” hit me.

Those words stopped me. Those words call for a sermon of substance about death.

Guess what? Everyone here has to write that sermon – sermon meaning conversation – for themselves – because everyone has to deal with death.

We have to talk to God about death – our death and the death of others. And it’s my experience that we all think about death from time to time. The older we get, the more the theme of death knocks on our door. It might be triggered by seeing wrinkles on our skin on the inside of our elbow or it might be a class reunion and everyone looks so old.

I think of a sub-plot in the movie, Moonstruck, when Rose Castorini, played by Olympia Dukakis, wants to know why men cheat, why her husband Cosmo is cheating. She keeps on asking the question till someone finally tells her, “Death! They are scared of death.”

I think of men who are addicted to Internet porn. Are they also scared of dying without anyone loving them? Do they think by eating forbidden bytes on a computer screen someone will give them life – something will tell them they are still alive?

We have to come up with answers as well as new questions. We have to come up with words that make sense – words with insight – otherwise we might become angry people when it comes to sudden deaths, young deaths, or any death – including our own – if we’re aware it’s happening – because of cancer or what have you.

Today’s first reading from the Book of Wisdom gives the standard answer that God did not make death. We caused it.”

We find that standard answer through the scriptures. Today’s opening text is definitely teaching what the Book of Genesis teaches. God created this world – and all is good – and Adam and Eve were to live forever in this beautiful plush garden. There was no work – no problems – and death was not part of the story.

Then Satan, the adversary, crawls along the ground – a snake in the grass – and whispers to Eve to take a bite from the forbidden fruit. She falls. Adam falls. We all fell that day – and death became part of the package ever since. The egg was cracked. The gates were closed. Paradise was lost.

That’s the answer we find in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (#400) as well as our theology books.

God didn’t cause death. We caused death by sin.

WAIT A MINUTE!

As I found myself thinking about that, I found myself saying, “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I have to think about this a lot more. It’s Saturday night. It’s getting late.” Maybe Alan Harris was very right when he said, “The road to hell is littered with the manuscripts of church sermons written late on Saturday.” Preachers don’t give enough reflection, research and prayer to their sermons. I know I don’t. Sorry. And I’m not saying this so you will then say, “Father you’re doing fine.” I know that game – how to elicit support comments from people. I played that game at times when I was much younger.

So should I ditch the death question and go elsewhere?

I decided, “No! Give it a shot. It’s a lifetime question. You’re not going to figure it out on a Saturday night and solve it on a Sunday morning, but maybe you’ll figure out something new for yourself and in the process, maybe someone here needs to do some more thinking on the topic of death, a topic we all need to think about and bring to God from time to time.

SO THREE COMMENTS ABOUT DEATH

First of all I sort of don’t agree with the opening statement in today’s first reading – that God didn’t make death. I guess that makes me sort of a heretic. I’m not trying to get you to be a heretic too – but I can’t see how God isn’t in this mix and mystery somehow.

Okay, if God’s plan was – there was only going to be Adam and Eve – and a garden – then okay with the no death part of the story. I assume that the story tellers in Genesis are trying to figure out what we’re all trying to figure out: life and death.

Some science fiction writer could write a book about nobody dying – and everyone is eating good fruit in a plush garden with constant San Diego type weather. That means no wars – no fatal car crashes – no plane crashes – no cancer – no heart stoppage – no kidney failure and lots and lots of people.

Would there also be no nursing homes? Would we see 900 year old folks on skate boards? What would traffic be like? What would housing be like? How many people would show up for weddings and ball games?

So I assume God made us the way we are – and part of the picture is term limits and the numbers game.

Check the obituary columns or cemetery stones. Life has term limits. Or check the Biographical Names section in the back of any Webster Dictionary. 99 out of 100 names there have the two numbers and the dash in between. And we’ve all heard sermons about filling in that dash with a quality life – filled with love and compassion for our brothers and sisters – as well as gratitude to God for each day of life we have.

Second Point: the reality of death triggers powerful human reactions.

Would we go to a movie, if it didn’t have an ending?

What about jokes and sermons and Mass? There has to be endings.

Death – the reality and possibility of death triggers a zillion different things.

Anthony Dalla Villa, in his eulogy for Andy Warhol at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, New York City, April 1, 1987 said, “Death gives life its fullest reality.”

Marie Murphy, a theologian I know from Brooklyn, in her book, New Images of the Last Things, Karl Rahner on Death and Life after Death wrote, “Human beings long for completion. We want to achieve a definite end. Death is that act in which a person gathers his/her whole life and all that he/she is and says, ‘Here I am, Lord.’” * (p. 8)

Since we don’t know when we are going to die, the smart thing to do is make that our night prayer every night – and hopefully we wake up in the morning.

Third Point: Jesus’ death and resurrection can have a profound impact on our life. Yes, there is suffering and death, there is caring for loved ones, there is being there for them when they are sick and dying, but we Christians have the gift of faith that there is life beyond this life.

This is very significant and if you want substance, there it is.

Now in today’s gospel we have two people that meet Jesus – two people who need Jesus. Message we too need Jesus.

The first is Jairus, whose girl, about 12 years of age, is dying and Jesus goes to Jairus house and heals the girl.

The second is the woman who has suffered with blood, hemorrhages, for twelve years, and she touches Jesus’ clothes and she is healed.

Let me quote from a book entitled, Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels by Bruce Malina and Richard Rohrbaugh. Their area of expertise and research is the First Century in the Mediterranean Basin. They write, “A twelve-year-old dying would have been a common occurence in antiquity. Through much of the first century, 60 % of persons born alive die by their mid-teens.” (p. 209) *

Think of that.

They write, “In the cities of antiquity nearly a third of live births were dead before age six. By the mid-teens 60 percent would have died, by the mid-thirties 75 percent and 90 percent by the mid-forties. Perhaps 3 percent reached their sixties. Few ordinary people lived out of their thirties.” (p. 211) *

This was the reality that Jesus walked in – Jesus who died around the age of 33 on the cross.

We live much longer. Question: Is it tougher for us to deal with a dying child or to have a lingering sickness of 12 years?

Each of us has to deal with these realities of sickness and death – and the Gospel message is to approach Jesus for help or reach out and touch him. Isn’t that what we’re doing here this morning?

Aren't we here for Jesus to heal and help us?

Don’t we all have inner aches and deep questions that have been flowing around inside our minds for 12 years and more?

The End.

* Dr. Marie Murphy, New Images of the Last Things, Karl Rahner on Death and Life after Death, Paulist Press, New York, Mahway, N.J., 1988, p. 8

** Bruce Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh, Social Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels, Fortress Press, Minneapolis, MN, 1992, p. 209, 211

DEATH

AND 

RESURRECTION

Each day is a gift.
Each death is a mystery.
Each tomorrow will be surprise.
Each resurrection because of Christ
will be our Easter suprise and mystery,
even though, as with Christ,
others will be crying at our grave.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DEAD FLIES

ON A WINDOW SILL

I once heard an anthropologist say,
“It was a significant day
in our evolution as humans,
when some hunters and gatherers
stopped to bury a dead one –
not just tossing him or her
off to the side of a path.

“They paused – prayed – said significant things.
They watered the ground with their tears.
They marked the spot – knowing next year
they would travel this same trail.”

As I thought about that, I wondered,
“Did someone take a tiny rock
from that place, put a hole in it
for a leather piece of cord and
then wear it around their neck?
Did they touch it in the times of missing?”

We are more than dead flies on a window sill.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009