A CUP OF WATER

[In today’s gospel for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B, Jesus tells us to give each other cups of water – so I made up this story for today’s Children’s Mass. It’s a reminder to make sure we give cups of water to each other. Amen.]

The 8th grade of St. Henry’s Catholic School in Aurora, Oklahoma, visits a nursing home just across the street from their school as a way of putting their Christian faith into practice.

Each Wednesday after lunch, the 28 kids in the 8th grade, walk across the street with their teacher, Mrs. Julia Washington, and stop in to see different folks who are living there in the Aurora Springs Nursing Home, Aurora, Oklahoma.

The mostly older folks living there – as well as the nursing home staff – look forward to the kids’ visit every Wednesday. The kids are great. Old folks, as well as the nursing home staff, need to see young folks. The kids are trained very well by their teacher, Mrs. Julia, whose mom is in a similar nursing home in Oklahoma City. She found out that no kids or volunteers drop in to see her mom or those in her mom’s nursing home. She found this out because each Sunday afternoon she drives the 137 miles to Oklahoma City to see her mom.

Mrs. Julia, as the kids call her, their 8th grade teacher, trained her class on just what to do each Wednesday afternoon when they walk over to the nursing home. Mrs. Julia scouted the nursing home out and with the help of the head nurse and the activities director, she lined up 14 folks who would love a visit on a regular basis. The kids were assigned in teams of two to the person whom they were to visit. It was just like the way Jesus sent his disciples out – two by two.

The 8th grade kids would bring art work from their younger brothers and sisters as well as from 1st and 2nd grade kids whom they would also visit and tell about their visits to the old folks across the street in Aurora Springs Nursing Home. They would also have a question of the week for their assigned person in the nursing home – and sometimes they would bring muffins or flowers or home made chocolate chip cookies to the person they were visiting.

It was a great plan – and the 8th grade kids got more out of it than the person they were visiting.

Well, one evening, at supper, an 8th grader named Cory Branch, was asked by his dad, “How was your visit to Mr. Mannix this afternoon?”

And Cory told the following story about Mr. Tim Mannix whom he and his classmate Teri would visit every Wednesday afternoon.

“Teri and I went in and our question of the day was to ask our guest to tell us the ten top memories of that person’s life. I was the reporter, the questioner, and Teri was the one who had to write down the answers.

“I said to Mr. Mannix, ‘We have to make a report on the ten top memories of your life. So please help us with our homework.’

“Mr. Mannix smiled. ‘No problem Teri and Cory,’ he answered. ‘You’ll get an A with my answers.’

“Dad, mom, his mind is still very sharp. In fact, Mr. Mannix said, ‘This is like a question from David Letterman. Okay, let me start with #10 and go to # 1 – the most important thing I think that I have done in my life – or at least my best memory.’

“‘Number 10: When I was a junior in high school, I pitched a no hitter in baseball.

“‘Number 9: My mother had a cousin who was the Governor of Wyoming in the 1930’s – so that makes me a cousin of someone who was a governor and we used to visit him from time to time.

“‘Number 8: Did you know that I played minor league baseball? I made it to the Major Leagues one September – but that was when they call everyone up and there are at least 40 players on the bench. But I did get up to pinch hit 3 times and pinch run 2 times in the Major Leagues. That was it. But nobody ever asked me to give them an autograph.

“‘Number 7: I was in World War II and was captured by the Germans and spent 2 years in a German Prison Camp. I thought I was going to die many times – but I survived – and when the U.S. Army made it to our prison camp, I had lost 48 pounds.

“‘Number 6: I had a brother who was in navy and he was killed in World War II when his ship sank. I didn’t find out about this till after the war was over and I came back to the United States.

“‘Number 5: After the War I went to college and got a degree – thanks to the G.I. Bill of Rights. I became an engineer and worked with aluminum – in fact, I was part of the team that helped make aluminum cans for soda and beer.

“‘Number 4: I became president of a company that made racing bicycles – and Lance Armstrong used one of our bikes to win the Tour de France 3 different times – and we all got to meet him.

“‘Number 3: I am ¾ American Indian – and have written a book about my grandfather who was a full blooded Creek Indian.

“‘Number 2: I was married to a wonderful woman named Mary. She was the love of my life – but we weren’t blessed with kids – so that’s why it’s so wonderful that you and Teri come here every Wednesday. And my Mary died very early of cancer at the age of 36. That was a tough one. That is a rough memory.’

“Well, when he came to # 1, he paused and started to cry a bit. Teri and I got a bit nervous at first – but his tears were coming down a face that had a beautiful smile. We just sat there and waited. Then he told us what he felt was the best thing he ever did in his life – and he said it was his best memory.

“‘When I was a young kid my dad had a stroke and he couldn’t talk. We didn’t have any nursing homes or places like this at the time. My mom had to go out to work in a factory – to make money for my dad, my older brother and I. So when I got home from school in the afternoon – except during the baseball season – I would sit with my dad and talk and talk and talk – and he would listen, listen, listen.

“‘After a while, and this was what became the most beautiful moment. My dad would signal for water. At first I would get it out of the faucet. Now this was before this new thing called, “Bottled Water.” Then I found out he loved iced water. I would get ice cubes and really cold up that water – in a big pitcher of water I kept for him in our ice box. That’s what we had before refrigerators. I was doing this for years – every day – and he would almost say every time, “Thank you.” He loved cold water.

“‘Then surprise I’m in church this one Sunday and the priest said in his sermon that Sunday morning, “Want to be a good Christian? Simply give each other glasses of cold water!”

“‘Looking back at my life, I consider doing that was the most important thing I did in my life – giving my dad glasses of cold water for over 12 years till he died at the young age of 44.’”

Then Cory said, “We were crying hearing his wonderful story – then Teri spoke up and said, ‘Mr. Mannix can Cory and I have your autograph.’

“And he signed her notes – and next week I’m bringing a baseball in for him to sign.”

[P. S. Someone asked after Mass if there was an Aurora, Oklahoma and I answered, "As far as I know, no. The story is an imaginary story - with hopes that it could become real."]

WHY WE NEED ETERNITY?

There is never enough time ....
Missed opportunities.

Too many of them….
Funerals we couldn’t attend.
Conversations never finished
or much more significant:
conversations we should have had.
Lots of questions,
especially, “What ever happened
to what’s her or his name?”
Forgiveness – with an eventual end
to every “I’m sorry for ….” as well as

forgiving those who trespassed against us.
A chance for a zillion tears and laughs.
Healings. Many healings….
Surprises – that bring laughter
and many a big, “O my God!”

And then God - will it be

the big wedding banquet

with God at the big table

and on the dance floor

dressed quests galore

or will it be walks with God

in a garden

in the cool of the evening?

I'm dying to find out...

but not yet!

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

THE GEOGRAPHY OF THE SOUL

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Geography of the Soul.”

For some reason, today’s readings triggered that phrase, “The Geography of the Soul”. I said to myself, “What does that mean? Where did that come from?”

GEOGRAPHY

“G E” or “G E O” is the Greek word for “earth” – as in “geography,” “geometry,” “geoeconomics”, or “geodesic” and “GRAPHO” is the Greek word for “writing” as in “geography,” “photography” and “graphite”. Graphite - or lead – which people discovered could be used to wrote with. Pencils could be used besides pen and ink.

Geography – understanding where one is on the earth or the neighborhood. When we want to get from A to B – how do we get there? Even men ask for directions from time to time.

Geography – using word of mouth, maps, restaurant napkins, to tell someone or to jot down how to get from here to there. Can you draw me a map? Can you give me directions? Do you know what road to take?

With GPS we might be losing something. I’ve heard that.

The little baby begins in the dark inner globe of her mom. She kicks and pushes to learn how far her geography goes. Then as babies we look, point, crawl, stand up and begin to discover more and more of our geography: our home – our street – our yards – our playgrounds – our classrooms – and slowly the world.

How good were you in school with geography? Were you one of those kids that loved maps? How good are you in giving directions?

THE GEOGRAPHY OF THE SOUL

The title of my homily is, “The Geography of the Soul.” We know the geography of our bodies – our look – our scars – our wrinkles – our shape – healed bones that were broken – at times our left hip has a tiny tinge of an ache that is different than our right hip.

We know the geography of our bodies – male and female – tall, short, thin, fat, skin color, hair, no hair, cancer, operations. I have a piece of lead – in my finger here. It’s been here since the 4th grade when a boy in my class stabbed me in a pencil dueling fight. I lost.

What does our soul look like? Of course it’s invisible – but we know we have a soul – whether we call it a “soul” or not.

We know the difference between Jack our next door neighbor – who was just cutting his lawn two weeks ago or so – and four days later we were standing there at his body – in a casket at the funeral home. Same body – but so different dead than when alive.

The soul, life, his spirit, went out of him.

We have a soul, personality, spirit. Jack was so different than his wife, Jill, or his son who grew up with our son. We can be as different to each other as Annapolis is to Topeka, Kansas or to Paris, France.

That’s outside geography.

Inside we have our memories and our museums – our trophy cases and our toxic waste dumps – our photographs and our secrets – the fights and duels we won and the wars we lost.

And Jesus tells us that we have an inner room in here – in the geography of our soul – a holy place. And Jesus often comes to our door. He knocks on our door from time to time – because he likes to visit people.

Some people have never heard about their inner room – but everyone spends time in there. It’s the place where we talk to ourselves – which we’re doing all the time.

What does our inner room look like? I picture my small room with a small table that has an open bible on it – and a candle on it – and lots and lots of stuff in boxes along the walls. The chair has varied from time to time. Sometimes it’s a straight back wooden chair with no padding; other times it’s a Lazy Boy chair that is very comfortable.

What does your inner room look like?

What does your inner geography look like?

THE LETTER OF JAMES

How many times in our life have we said, “I want to read the Bible more”? Or “I want to read the Bible some day"?

If you haven’t done it yet – I mean more than opening up the book now and then and wondering as you read a few pages – and then you put it down for another ten years, I suggest you find your Bible and sitting in your inner room, read The Letter of James. Everyone has a Bible somewhere in the geography of their home.

The Bible is a library, a collection of books, one of which is entitled, “The Letter of James.”

Walk into the library called the Bible. Open up its doors. Walk towards the end of the book. It’s on the right side in our Bible. You’ll find it. You have a gist of the geography of the Bible.

The Letter of James been the second reading the past 3 Sundays. We have it today and we’ll have it again next week. James is great for taking us up and down and around the towns of our outer and inner geography. Today he begins with contrast. We know the difference between living in a great neighborhood and a dangerous neighborhood.

We have a choice to live and breathe jealousy, selfish ambition, disorder, foul practice. Or we can live and breathe purity, peace, gentleness, compliance, mercy and good fruits – not emitting inconstancy or insincerity.

We can let our property be ugly or we can get out our garden tools and cultivate the garden of our soul and grow peace.

It’s our move. It takes digging. It takes removing rocks. It takes time.

If you travel the geography of this earth, at different spots on the globe we’ll hear gun shots and see trucks blown up with I.E.D’s. If you walk through the geography of places of government and political power – as well as churches at times, you’ll hear anger and rancor.

James is saying you’ll see and hear it out there, but the real place to look – the real geography to check out - is in the geography of our soul.

Today he asks a question we all understand: “Where do the wars and where do the conflicts among you come from? Is it not from your passions that make war within your members? You covet but do not possess. You kill and envy but you cannot obtain; you fight and wage war. You do not possess because you do not ask. You ask but do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.”

He’s saying what Jesus said. “Go within!” We’ve all heard somewhere along the line Horace Greeley’s words, which he borrowed from John Babsone Lane Soul, “Go west, young man” James is borrowing from Jesus and telling us to “Go within.” Young, middle, old man, young, middle, old woman, go within.

Take the journey into your soul. Study the geography of your soul.

DANTE

If someone ever offers a course on Dante, take it.

He gives the geography of Hell, Purgatory and Heaven – and he puts people in all three – and we’ll see ourselves in the journey.

Before I die I hope some genius makes a movie - maybe even a trilogy on Dante’s Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. I would even take a musical, if someone put it together. I know T.S. Eliot dabbled in Dante, but there is a great big geography to unearth.

In the Inferno, Dante takes his readers into the geography of the soul. “Abandon hope all you who enter here.” But if we enter, and make the journey, we can come out of hell with hope. We’ll see rivers and boats, mountains and trails – and on the way we see the deadly side of the 7 deadly sins. We see parodies and parables on what each sin does.

He puts popes and political figures in the depths of hell. While he was writing and imagining his imaginings, I can picture him loving to have a copy of People magazine or a TV and clicker in hand.

If we discover the geography of Dante’s Inferno, we discover that lust and gluttony are small ravines and pits compared to horrible landscape of pride and cruelty and abuse. Hopefully, we want to keep moving through Purgatory into Paradise.

TWO SONS

I love stories that begin with: “A man had two sons!” A man had two sons: one son traveled the whole world and saw almost every country; the other son stayed home and worked in his backyard garden each day. Question: Who saw more?

CONCLUSION

If we don’t travel within, if we don’t take things to heart, if we don’t become conscious of our unconscious motivations and inner movements, envies, jealousies and desires, then we’ll keep on repeating the same old sins and same old stories and we’ll be in a hell of a geography for the rest of our lives.

But if we see ourselves as disciples of Jesus – on the journey with him – walking the same geography as him – we can grow with him.

As we heard in today’s gospel – his disciples are arguing about who’s the greatest – who’s the most important.

Then we’ll hear Jesus calling us inside the house – within. If we go within or bring him into our inner room, then we might start to get it. We might become like the little child again discovering the geography of life – and all its wonders – this time perhaps for the first time – and we’ll scream down in the inner geography our soul, “Jesus Christ, I get it. It’s a Divine Comedy. Thanks for the directions. Thanks.”

7 – BUT IT MIGHT HAVE
BEEN 6 – OR MAYBE IT WAS 8

The title of my story is, “7, But It Might Have Been 6 or Maybe It Was 8.”

I’m not sure.

And I’m not sure how Mark and then Luke came up with the number in his gospel that we heard this morning – that I, Mary, called Magdalene, had 7 demons in me. (1)

1 is enough.

Anyway, I did have these inner demons, devils, divisive voices, roaming around inside me. Not good. Not right. Not healthy. (2)

You’re looking at one blessed person – lucky that I was born around the same time as Jesus – lucky that I was from Magdala – not that far from the Lake of Galilee and Nazareth – graced that I just happened to be standing on the edge of a crowd – the day Jesus walked into my life. (3)

I could see from moment one – that he could see right through me.

I could hear my demons saying, “Don’t have anything to do with this Jesus!” (4)

He was different from anyone I had ever met – any person I ever experienced. (5)

Being a woman I was on the edge of the crowd. (6)

Being me I was always on the edge of self-destruction.

In a way, I was dead. (7)

I am grateful that Jesus rolled the stone away from my tomb. He brought me back to life. He anointed me with love and forgiveness – understanding and joy, peace and celebration. (8)

I laughed when the Pharisees and Scribes complained that Jesus hung around with sinners. Huh? They didn’t get it. That was why he came. I celebrated that Jesus hung around sinners. (9)

They didn’t know he wanted to hang around with them – because they too had their demons.

Evidently, some people neither listen to nor acknowledge Jesus nor their demons.

If they listened to Jesus – if they realized Jesus could help them with their demons and take away their sins, then they too could have experienced the Kingdom – Good News – Everyday Joy, new life.

Jesus let me – a woman – a sinner – someone who had 6, 7 or 8 – or more demons inside of her into his circle. I who was alone was allowed to become his disciple.

Note well, this was something new – Good News – Jesus, a Rabbi, a Man, a Teacher, was allowing women into his family.

And I wasn’t the only one. You heard today about Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and several other women. You’d like them. Great gals. (10)

As a result, we got to experience the Kingdom up close and personal. We got to hear many of Jesus’ stories. We got to see many of his healings. We got to see how various people accepted or could not accept his presence in their lives.

As a woman, men noticed me. As a woman, I noticed Jesus – and experienced the kind of love I didn’t know I was looking for all my life.

For example, Jesus taught me the power of forgiveness. I laughed at Peter when he got into the question of how many times should he forgive his brother. I always wondered if he was talking about Andrew or any brother or sister. He asked Jesus, “Was 7 times enough?” There’s that 7 again.

Jesus laughed – he didn’t worry about how many demons you had or sins you had. You could have 77 times 7 sins or hurts – and if they were keeping you from loving God or neighbor, Jesus wanted to take them away – not so you could then think you’re better than others – but that you could use that worry energy to helping one another energy. (11)

Too many people waste too much energy on their sins. They get stuck in their past mistakes – becoming self centered as a result – centering in on their mistakes – always hearing those past voices. They didn’t know Jesus was the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of our world. They didn’t know Jesus didn’t come to destroy people – but to restore people. (12)

What they don’t know is that Jesus didn’t come to take away the memories of our sins. We all remember our sins – 7 juicy ones – or maybe 6 or maybe it was 8 dumb moves of our youth or our lives. Somewhere along the line, people came to think that Jesus came to take away our memories of sins. He didn’t come to take away memories. He loved memories – that we share bread and wine and forgiveness in memory of him – that we remember his great parables – that we remember to pray.

Enough. How do I want to be remembered? I was there under the cross at Calvary. I wanted to be there for him who was always there for me. (13)

How do I want to be remembered? I went there very early that first day of the week – to be at his grave and discovered Jesus was no longer in the tomb, so I ran back to tell Peter and the disciple Jesus loved that the tomb was empty. (14)

How do I went to be remembered? Back at the tomb, the beloved disciple was the first to believe, even though he didn’t see. I want to be remembered as the first to embrace, to cling to the Risen Lord Jesus. It was just one time. Okay, I wish it was 7 or 6 or 8 times – or 70 times 7 times – but that’s what eternity is for. Amen. (15)

NOTES

(1) Luke 8:1-3; Mark 16:9

(2) Matthew 12:43-45

(3) Matthew 15:39

(4) Cf. Mark 1: 32-34; Mark 1: 23-28; Matthew 7: 21-27

(5) Cf. John 5-42 – Different woman, but I’m using the story for nuancing.

(6) Mark 27-30; Mark 3:31 – nuances.

(7) Matthew 23:27

(8) John 19: 38-18

(9) Luke 15: 1-2; Matthew 9: 10-13

(10) Luke 8:1-3

(11) Matthew 18:21-22

(12) John 1:29; Luke 4: 18-19

(13) Mark 15: 40; Matthew 27:55-56; Luke 23:49; John 19:25

(14) John 20:1-2; Matthew 28:1-8; Mark 16:1-8; Luke 24:1-12

(15) John 20: 11-18

[Painting on top: "The Repenting Magdalene" by Georges de La Tour, late 1630's.]

(This was a story I made up for a weekday Mass - Sept. 18, 2009, 24 Friday in Ordinary Time)

BALTIC SEA

Just back from a 12 day cruise on the Baltic Sea.

Each early morning – each early evening –
I glanced at the light filling in
every furrow of the dark blue sea.
My face glimmered. I could feel it.
My eyes squinted – depending on
whether I was looking east or west,
morning or night. Light – bright – sea
and sky – canvas, tarp, mirror, fields
of water and clouds. And I was just
seeing surface and sky. God I need
to walk more decks – more mornings,
more nights – sidewalks and beaches.
Be with me in the in and out, surface and depth,
the within and the without, the under
and the over, the behind and the beneath of it all.
And this was just twelve days on one shining,

shaking, and shifting sea. More!

And then Eternity: the other shore
with You on the beach waiting – waiting.

Yet Lord, please, not yet. There are other seas

to sail. There is so much more to see.

There is so much more to do

before I reach that final shore. Eternity.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

STOP SIGNS!

In my late-sixties I started to see STOPsigns everywhere – in gardens at roses,
in the face of Everyman and Everywoman,
half way through many an “Our Father…”,
at unique paintings in art museums
and pictures pinned to cork boards
in 1st Grade classrooms, in slow
sips of coffee – in the lick and "Yum! Yum!"

of peanut butter on top of cold butter on rye bread.
Instead of Yield, 65 MPH, entrance and exit signs,
I began seeing STOP signs!
I began hearing, “STOP!” “STOP!” “STOP!”
Better: realities around me stopped me.
Best: I decided not only to STOP,
but to park my soul – get out and
see, listen, taste, touch,
who and what was at today’s table.
And at times I would realize:
God is not just in light speed,
billions of stars and galaxies,
darting birds and focused bees,
God is also about STOP.
God is here. God is silent.
God is present, parked, taking it all in.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

QUESTIONS 

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is “Questions”.

To be human is to have questions – lots of them – spoken and unspoken – simmering in the pot – or deep in the deep freeze.

To be a child – is to ask many wide eyed and sometimes wild questions.

What are your questions?

TODAY’S GOSPEL

Today’s gospel has Jesus asking two questions – a teaching technique rabbis often used.

First question: “Who do people say that I am?”

Second question: “Who do you say that I am?”

When we’re young we might have answers to the first question. We might know what different people say about Jesus.

When we are at a Kids’ Mass and the priest asks a question, arms go flying up – even before the kid has an answer.

It’s cute and sometimes kids’ surprise us with their answers.

When we are older we need to start answering that second question for ourselves. Christ asks each of us, “Who do you say that I am?” There comes a point in the middle of our life – or at key points in our life – when we need to deal with that question.

We’ve all heard the auditorium and stage phrase: “Get the hook!” It might go back to vaudeville shows when someone was on the stage too long and their jokes were bombing. I’ve also heard it when we priests are in the pulpit and we’re talking too long. “Get the hook!”

Here’s your chance to practice it right now: “Get the hook!” and if I go too long, yell it out, “Get the hook!”

The question mark is a hook. Questions can stop us – get us off the stage of life for a while – so we can deal with heavy duty questions.

Today Jesus is asking, “Who do you say that I am?”

Better put: we need to sit or walk in prayer with Jesus and talk and listen to each other about who we both are.

It’s called prayer. It’s called meditation. It’s called a relationship.

Questions! They can be helpful hooks – or painful hooks.

In today’s gospel after Jesus asks his two questions – he then tells Peter and the disciples who he is and what his plan is – where he is headed.

So yes there are questions and yes there are answers.

Surprise, Peter’s doesn’t like the answer Jesus gives. Peter doesn’t like the plan. Peter doesn’t like the future Jesus is stepping into.

When Peter hears the words, “suffering,” “rejection,” and “killed”, Peter challenges Jesus. Don’t we all? Don’t we all?

Peter’s understanding of what Jesus is like or supposed to be like, isn’t what Jesus tells them he is like – and Peter doesn’t like it.

And Jesus here in Mark 8 gives some key teachings about the meaning of life.

Jesus tells his disciples about the cross.

The sign of the cross often comes before the question mark.

The sign of the cross often brings us questions.

Cancer. Suffering. Greed. Crime. Addiction. Death. Divorce. Disaster. Why? Why? Why?

What are your questions?

How many questions do you ask each day?

Am I aware of my daily questions?

Give us this day our daily questions.

Remember the story of the father who used to ask his kids when he came home from work and they came home from school, “Did you come up with any good questions today?”

POVERTY

Last Wednesday afternoon I walked through the corridor in the rectory here at St. Mary’s. I walked past a lot of people coming for assistance – for help.

And with the way the economy is going – with the increased number of people out of work, I was wondering about the number of people needing help – and how tough it must be getting through these rough economic times.

The poor are here Monday evenings and Wednesday afternoons – and the folks here at St. Mary’s are very generous – making direct donations or putting money in the poor box – as well as those who give their time and expertise in the Saint Vincent de Paul Ministry. It’s tough work. It’s much easier saying Mass and babbling out words here in the pulpit.

I walked by the poor lined up for help. I went out the front door and walked down to CVS to get a birthday card. As I walked down Newman Street, I found myself inwardly saying, “Get moving. Get a job. Get a life.”

Woo! I caught myself! Where was this coming from inside me?

I didn’t realize that I was questioning the poor I just walked by.

I had to pause and say to myself, “I haven’t walked in their shoes.”

I had to say to myself the saying from the Jewish Talmud or Teachings that I find myself saying more and more and more: “Teach thy tongue to say, ‘I do not know.’”

I have never experienced their poverty, even though I have a vow of poverty as a religious.

I said to myself, “No comparison.”

So last Wednesday I experienced my own poverty and lack of compassion and understanding as I walked down Newman Street.

I realized that I was still walking down what Paul would call, “The Oldman” Street.

I need to change, to grow – to become a new man – a new person in Christ. I need conversion.

In his letters Paul tells us he was arrogant, righteous, and wrong about Christians – and Christ – and God – and people – and their motives – and he had to fall on his face – and be blind for a few days – till he found himself of Straight Street in Damascus where he was told to go if he wanted answers – if he wanted to be healed.

Is that the way life works?

We have to walk down a lot of streets – take many roads – trip and fall at times – till we get it straight?

Is that everyone’s story?

Blindness. Insight. Blindness. Insight. Blindness. Insight.

Questions. Questions. Questions.

As I walked, as I thought, I was grateful that so many folks here at Saint Mary’s are helping the poor – helping in the English as a Second Language Program – running an elementary and high school – running religious education programs – visiting the prison – visiting the sick – preparing folks for marriage - doing many things for many people – parenting – serving – doing our best to make this a good community – a good place to live – except for the traffic.

I still felt my poverty – because I had said inwardly, “Get moving. Get a job. Get a life.”

For some: not easy, not easy, not easy.

TODAY’S SECOND READING

The title of my homily is, “Questions.”

Sure enough, I noticed that today’s second reading from James also has questions. It begins with three questions in a row: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone says he has faith but does not have works?”

Then the second question: “Can that faith save him?”

Then the third question – a right in your face question: “If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,’ but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it?”

Woo! The Letter of James can be very tough stuff.

Questions. Questions. Questions.

This religion stuff can be tough stuff.

Jesus is saying that very thing here at the end of today’s gospel: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.”

Tough questions. Tough answers. Life.

TODAY’S FIRST READING

Today’s first reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah begins, “The Lord God opens my ear that I may hear; and I have not rebelled, have not turned back.”

I have to admit I rebel at times. I am deaf at times. I refuse to listen at times.

Isn’t that why we come to church? Isn’t that why we don’t want to come to church at times? Jesus can be that tough.

CROSSES AND QUESTIONS

Jesus hooks us with the cross. Jesus hooks us with questions.

Suffering brings us to the cross. Suffering brings us questions.

Why God why?

Why me, God, why me?

Even Jesus screamed out the big feeling question we often ask, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

SO

So maybe there are more questions than there are conclusions. Maybe there are more questions than answers.
What’s your take on this question of questions and answers?

We studied the writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas in the process of becoming priests – and his format was the question and answer method. First the great question – and then various answers – and then what he would consider the best answer.

And we heard somewhere along the line that before St. Thomas Aquinas died he said to burn all his writings – saying it’s all straw.

And every time I heard that story – a necessary story I realized many years later – I felt humbled. I found myself asking the hook question hidden in the story, “Then why am I studying all this?”

And I remember two of our teachers using not only the classic text books for dogmatic and moral theology – but also lots of articles and other books – and saying to us, “You have the rest of your life to reflect upon these questions.”

And that lead to the further questions, “Isn’t that dangerous? Wouldn’t that make one a cynic? Why study in the first place? Why have faith in the first place? Are there any answers?”

Of course there are answers – just as the cross is an answer – just as Jesus is an answer – just as Thomas Aquinas gave answers, just as The Baltimore Catechism used the Question and Answer method – just as the Gospels have many questions and many answers.

How do I end this homily entitled, “Questions”?

It seems that much of life is like the ocean – necessary, deep, taking up most of the planet – without which we wouldn’t be here. It seems that God is also like the ocean – necessary, deep, keeping up all of the planets and the universe – without whom we wouldn’t be here.

In my homily last Sunday, I gave some of my life learnings – answers that I have come up with. In my homily this week, I found myself countering, I also have life questions – and my faith and my hope is that eternity with be filled with the great answers.

And I have lots of questions for God. Don’t we all? One is: “God what’s your take on the interesting hats these religious leaders often come up with?” I’m dying to hear God’s take on that one.

CONCLUSION

Not knowing how to conclude at this point, but knowing people have often been helped by standing at the beach looking out at the ocean or at the Bay here in Annapolis, let me conclude with a poem by the Irish poet, John Boyle O’Reilly. It’s entitled, “The Infinite.”

THE INFINITE
The Infinite always is silent:
It is only the Finite speaks.
Our words are the idle wave-caps
On the deep that never breaks.

We may question with wand of science,

Explain, decide and discuss;
But only in meditation
The Mystery speaks to us.