CONVERSATION # 1

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© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

HERE’S MY QUESTION

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Here’s My Question.”

How many times in our life have we heard someone say, “Here’s my question”?
We're listening to talk radio while driving and the host says to someone who has called in and is going on and on and on, "Caller! What is your question?"

We’re at a meeting or we hear a talk – and someone raises their hand and they start talking – and we’re wondering where they are going – and then they finally say, “Here’s my question.”

That’s not my question.

But I wonder, does everyone have a question – their question – and they ask it over and over and over again, all their lives?

I don’t know the answer to that – but that’s the question that hit me yesterday afternoon as I began working on this homily.

And if everyone has a question that they are off on, are they aware that they are off on that question – all their lives?

I don’t know. And that’s not my question either.

And if everyone has a question that they are off on, can they trace or figure out when and why that question started inside of them?

And if everyone has a question that they are off on, do they switch to another question, a further question, a deeper question, a wider question, if they get a satisfactory answer to the question they were off on for the longest time?

Now none of these questions so far are my question.

And before I mention what my question is, let me ask you, “Do you have a lifetime question and if you do, what is it”

If I handed out blank pieces of paper and asked you to write down your question, would you know what it is? Do you have one main lifetime question? If you have a main question and you know what it is, find this homily on my blog and write in what your question is. If you don’t understand how to put a comment into a blog, ask a young person. You can be anonymous. You can find my blog on the St. Mary’s Annapolis, Maryland website – under Religious Education. I’d be interested in hearing what other people have as their lifetime question. Maybe a lot of people would like to know what others have as their big question as well.

Would anyone do that? I’ll find out.

HERE’S MY QUESTION

Here’s my question finally: “Why do people mess up?”

Why do people ruin a good thing?

Why do people do stupid things that ruin their life and the lives of those around them?

Why do people self destruct - in little ways and in big ways?

Why do people sabotage themselves?

That’s my question. I’ve been asking it much of my life.

How many times do people in their life hit themselves on the forehead with the heel of their hand and say, “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” [I have a homily with that title somewhere.] Then they go out and do the same thing over and over again. Why?

I procrastinate. I put off the difficult jobs till the last minute – like not getting Sunday homilies finished till late on Saturday night. I do it every week – unless I have the 4:30 or 5 PM Mass on Saturday. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And it was same with term papers and homework all through my education years. Will I ever learn?

St. Paul and St. Augustine asked this same question about, "Why do I mess up?" at various times in their writings – so I’m not the only one who asks this question.

The first book of the Bible, the Book of Genesis, begins with God creating this great big world – as a beautiful garden – and Adam and Eve have everything they want. It’s paradise. It’s a honeymoon that doesn’t end.

And then they mess up. It happens every time. They mess up.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Novels, plays, stories, movies, especially Alfred Hitchcock movies, begin the same way. Everything is peaceful – safe – wonderful. Then the problem. Then the mess up. Then the catch.
It gets us to read the book – to watch the movie – and we hope there is a happy ending. It’s also life.

We work our tails off at work – but something happens. Something gets messed up. We get hurt. We lose our job. Or we mess up and we are the cause of the problem.


Life.

VETERANS’ DAY DINNER
It was back in the 1970’s. It was November. Veterans’ Day was coming up. I remember getting a call to go to a Veteran’s Day dinner and say the prayer – and maybe say a few words. I don’t remember that part. What I remember is sitting there with about 35 men – all up there in age – at an Italian restaurant. They were in varying stages of dementia and Alzheimer’s and got out that day for a bus ride to Long Branch, New Jersey, from a locked in part of a Veteran’s nursing home up near Orange, New Jersey.

They were welcomed by the owner of the restaurant. I said the prayer. They began eating – some before the prayer. A few guys were wearing pajama tops and baseball caps – but most were wearing those Army cloth hats that are easy to fold and put in one’s pocket or belt. Buttons were buttoned wrong. Glasses of Coca Cola were spilled. Spaghetti sauce began appearing more and more on the white table cloth.

Sitting across from me was a man – and this is what I remembered from some 35 years ago - as if it happened yesterday. This man was impeccably dressed. He was wearing a clean white pressed shirt, perfect tie, and well tailored blue suit. His hair was perfect. He slowly organized his plate of meatballs and spaghetti. I don’t remember it there was wine. He took his time getting everything ready for the feast.

I was watching his slow and precise mannerisms – sprinkling the parmesan cheese on his spaghetti with calm and delicate gestures. Finally he picked up his fork – slowly – and then, "Ba boom!" He shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth getting sauce all over his chin and white shirt and tie – and onto the table cloth and he had the whole plate finished before anyone else on his side of the long table.

It would have been a great scene for a movie.

Life? It’s funny. It’s surprise. It goes from the perfect to the mess sometimes in seconds.

Life? Why do we mess it up?

BERLIN WALL

On November 9th, 1989 the Berlin Wall came down. Newspapers had headlines: “Cold War Ends.”

I celebrated. The whole world celebrated.

Surprise! The following year we had the First Persian Gulf War – Desert Storm – August 2, 1990 to February 28, 1991.

Do we hate having a good thing? Peace? Why do we mess up?

In 1990 – after years of embargo – after Apartheid in South Africa since 1948 - Nelson Mandela is released from prison – after 27 years – and there is a rather peaceful transition. I expected bloodshed – massacres.

Surprise! The bloodshed, the violence, hits Africa in Rwanda in 1994 – and 20% of the population is killed – from 500,000 to a 1,000, 000 people.

Then there is September 11, 2001. Then the Iraq War II and Afghanistan War.

Does nature hate a vacuum? Do human beings always have to have enemies – stress – violence – terror – a fight going on?

Life never goes the way we want life to go.

We don’t expect our kids or grandkids to get divorced and little sometimes hurt or confused in the process.

We don’t expect our kids or grandkids to do drugs or cause a car accident because of alcohol.

Why do people mess up?

Why do kids do graffiti?

Why do priests and politicians mess up?

Why do people shoot people?

TODAY’S READINGS

In today’s readings we have in the first and third readings what is called apocalyptic literature. Someone is predicting violent endings to the end the world. Why can’t the Bible just tell of green valleys and fig trees?

Why did the authors of these two documents - Daniel and Mark - give us this kind of literature? It has caused problems and scary predictions ever since – that the world is about to end.

If you’re a computer person type into Google “End of the World predictions” – and you’ll find hundreds of them – some coming from scripture texts – some from Nostradamus. There is this new one coming up for the year 2012 – from Mayan Indian predictions.

It will sell this movie – but on December 22, 2012, someone will predict it’s 2020 or 4012 and on and on and on. Why do people do this and mess other people up?

It always seems to be something – that messes up everything.

When I first started seeing the ads for this new movie coming out, “2012”, without knowing anything my first reaction was, “Are they crazy? Why didn’t they pick 2020? 2012 will be upon us before we know it. I’d pick more time – and get more mileage out of the movie.” Not to worry. Remember the old Peanuts and Charlie Brown cartoon that says, “Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia.” [Charles Schultz]

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily is: "Here's my question."
And my question is, "Why do people mess things up?"

And I'm asking you, "Do you have a life time question?"

This week take some time reflecting on that my question. Talk to yourself? Ask yourself?

This week talk to each other about each other's big question - and if you're married, ask you spouse [and kids], "What do you think my life time question is?"

Don't be surprised if your spouse blurts out, "Hon, it's obvious. You've been off on the same question ever since I met you. It's ...."

WHISPERED PRAYERS

The seasons have their whispers;
the seasons have their prayers.

November has its moments;
November has its prayers.

The leaves have peaked. Pride
always comes before the fall.

Listen to the leaves – they make a lot
more noise than when they were alive.

It’s only time before they crumble.
Watch them as they do their death dance.

The trees stand tough. They just stiffen
their backs knowing there will be next Spring.

November brings me to the cemetery;
November brings me to thank my dead.

November brings me to my knees;

November makes me face my pride and fall.

The seasons have their whispers;
the seasons have their prayers.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

BUT WHO TOOK

THE PICTURE?

I sat there all alone, on a rock,
single and silent, up there
in the green hills, in a quiet spot,
overlooking trees, trees, Vermont,
in summer, high above the highway….
Slowly I heard voices coming up
a path, then around a curve, almost
to my spot. They were a couple.
It looked like they wanted to be alone,
but first they began taking pictures.

She snapped him. He snapped her.
Before leaving – getting on my way –

I asked them if I could picture them together.
And so she handed me her digital camera.
They smiled. They posed. They thanked me.
Then I continued on my journey
along the Long Trail, single and silent,
picturing myself all alone, large rocks,
large rocks and trees, trees, Vermont?

When they get home,

when they show their pictures,

will someone seeing them together ask,

"But who took the picture?"

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DOORS

Doors: Opened? Closed?
When we describe
a closed door as “shut”
are we implying something
about the person inside?
What about a door
that is half or slightly
opened or closed?
Do we say to ourselves,
“It’s half closed” or “It’s half opened”
based on our take on the person inside?
I don’t know. Just now
I was wondering inside
the closed door of mind
as I stand here outside you,
“What’s the proper distance
for a door in a hospital room,
or in an office or in another’s eyes,
for another to know that you want
or don’t want me
to drop in and visit you?”

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

YOU HAVE TO KNOW

THE TERRITORY

Sitting, just relaxing, just doing nothing,
on a porch, on a Sunday afternoon,
being all alone with the All Alone….

Right now, it’s quiet on this quiet street.

I’m gazing at miles of faded blue sky.

I begin to watch a small sparrow mirroring me,
on a branch, on a Sunday afternoon,
being all alone with the All Alone….

He or she is also looking at miles
of faded blue sky – just enjoying the quiet.

Suddenly ….

The interruption – the change….

It’s always something – isn’t it?

Out of nowhere, a blackbird screams
and dives right at the sparrow’s branch –
who darts away into November nothingness.

I’m thinking: that black bird
had a hundred trees to perch and rest on,
Why did he pick the sparrow and his branch?

I’m thinking: why do dogs disturb cats
on Sunday afternoons? Why do brothers
or sisters disturb their brothers or sisters?


Why do nations scream and dive right
into other nations' land hoping that they
disappear into November nothingness?

Suddenly ….

Interruption – change ….

It’s always something – isn’t it?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DOES WATER

EVER COMPLAIN?

When you’re that strong, that present,
that necessary, when you’re
most of the planet
and most of the human body,
when there is so much of you,
does water ever complain?

When you’re lakes, ponds, rivers, seas,
oceans, mists, ice cubes, rain, snow,
drizzle, streams, steam, polar caps,
glaziers or inside all those pipes,
reservoirs and water towers,
does water ever complain?

When you know you appear in so many
different sizes, shapes and forms,
when you know you’re can be bigger
than countries and continents or can be
small like a drop of dew on a rose,
does water ever complain?

When you’re spinning around in
hurricanes and storms, pounding
beaches and boats, shaking and
shifting, wave after wave after wave,
or you’re just sitting in a tub,
does water ever complain?

When you’re polluted, left to stagnate,
when you discolored, poisoned or contaminated
with toxins and a mishmash of run off,
when you’re wasted, ignored or go unnoticed,
when those who speak up for you are ridiculed,
does water ever complain?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009