MOUNTAINS AND MOLEHILLS

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Mountains and Molehills.”

We’ve all heard the old saying, “Don’t make mountains out of molehills.”

SNOW OR SNOWSTORM?

With yesterday’s snow, a decision had to be made last evening about St. Mary’s Sunday morning Religious Ed classes – as well as the 8 AM Children’s Mass – as well as the Adult Religious Ed Discussion Program for after the 8 AM Children’s Mass.

Yesterday morning and afternoon I was helping with First Reconciliation, First Confession, for tiny kids and their parents and grandparents at Our Lady of the Fields Parish in Millersville.

It was raining on my way over there at 10 AM – and then it started to snow.

Coming back yesterday afternoon around 2:45, I was wondering if the play in our St. Mary’s High School for last night would be cancelled. I was glad I saw it on Friday night.

With the snow continuing, I was wondering about tomorrow, Sunday.

After a half hour nap and confessions here, and after two hot dogs for supper, I went to work on 3 things for this morning. I had to write a homily for the 8 AM Children’s Mass. Then I was going to put together a reflection for the Sunday morning Religious Education Adult Discussion program. The theme was to be on Advent. Then I would start my homily for the 12:30 Mass for today.

I was working on my Children’s Mass homily – a story – when I got a phone call telling me the Kids’ Mass, as well as Sunday morning Religious Education Classes, as well as the Advent Adult Ed Discussion program, were being cancelled – after checking this out with the pastor. Mr. Steve Beard, who is charge of all these Religious Ed programs, then said with a smile in his voice, “I know you people from up north – are used to lots of snow.”

Steve Beard, didn’t say, “I am not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Yet, a decision had to be made the night before – for here at St. Mary’s and I’m sure a million more programs, plays, parties, games, etc. in the path and reality of the snow or snow storm. And from experience, people in charge know decisions have to be made. And people in charge know that every decision has consequences. People will show up and discover closed doors. Some people will then say, “Okay, I understand!” Others will scream – in frustration – about failure of communication around here – not knowing there was a phone tree and the change was made on our web site, and announced on the radio, etc.

I remember hearing about a guy going bankrupt because of a bunch of lawsuits – when one of his school buses crashed and killed some kids in a snowstorm – when school was not called off.

Life calls for lots of decisions.

Life has its sunny mornings like today – as well as its swirling and sticking snow like yesterday. And Mr. Steve Beard told me last night that the temperature report for tomorrow morning is 28 degrees.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

There are mountains and there are molehills – ups and downs, twists and turns, this and that’s in life.

In the meanwhile, my mountain became a molehill – because all I had to put together for today was a homily for the 12:30 Sunday Mass.

TODAY’S READINGS

Once more the Sunday Readings have food for thought.

Today’s first reading and today’s gospel both talk about leveling mountains – and using the rocks and mountain earth to fill in the valleys and make everything smooth and level.

Green theologians certainly would make comments about that – as well as poets like Wendell Berry. He was on the Diane Rehm show last Monday, November 30th, voicing a protest about strip coal mining in his native Kentucky – ruining the view, destroying the trees, and causing massive ecological ruin. The process used is the removal of whole tops of mountains – to get to the coal. Of course it’s jobs and less dependence on foreign oil – but it’s also mess and scream.

Everything has consequences. Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.

Today’s Gospel talks not only about leveling mountains and filling valley’s, but also about making winding roads straight – and rough ways smooth.

Does anyone complain about Route 97? Does everyone who falls or almost falls, complain about certain sections of bumpy red bricks on the sidewalks of Annapolis? Does everyone love the Shenandoah Valley as well as the Blue Ridge mountains? How many people stop when driving – when they see the sign, “Scenic Overview”?

If I go back to the street I grew up on, to the house we lived in, 326-62nd Street, Brooklyn, N.Y. it is no longer there. It was removed to make way for a wider and faster Gowanus Parkway. Does anyone who grew up where Route 97 now rolls – miss their childhood home or farm or what have you?

LIFE’S READINGS

William James, the 19th and early 20th century philosopher said in a 1907 lecture on Pragmatism, “The philosophy which is so important in each of us is not a technical matter; it is our more or less dumb sense of what life honestly and deeply means. It is only partly got from books; it is our individual way of just seeing and feeling the total push and pressure of the cosmos.” [Pragmatism, Lecture I, 1907]

We learn from books, from church, from lectures, from conversations, from adult ed, but William James is saying the key thing is common sense and dumb sense – the what we have picked up from the pull and pressure of what surrounds us.

What’s in your wallet? What’s in your pressure cooker? What’s does your education look like in degreeless common or dumb sense? What have you picked about life so far?

What impact do mountains have on a valley?

What effect do they have on the weather patterns and the psyche patterns of the people?

Would a person be different growing up in the shadow of a mountain – looking out the window each morning – and seeing that mountain –– than if they grew up on the plains.

Would we be different if our dad was 6 foot 5 or 5 foot 6 – if he was a piece of cake or a bottle of spicy sauce sprinkled on everything we did growing up? What impact do we have on each other?

THERE ARE MANY, BUT HERE’S ONE PERCEPTION I PICKED UP SO FAR

One of my regular homily hopes and questions is to ask people to reflect on something I’m pushing in my homily and then do some homework on that during the week to come. You heard me. What do you hear from yourself ? And to do this as a couple and/or family.

And I try to do this in 10 minutes – 5 pages typed – 14 pica. But I realize that time itself is relative. That’s why I love the saying, “How long a minute takes depends on which side of the bathroom door you’re on.” How long a 10 minute homily takes, depends on which side of the pulpit you’re on.

Okay here’s one of my perceptions and it’s about perception. Come up with one perception that you have come up with – something that makes common or dumb or smart sense to you.

Here it is: Perception is reality, till we sometimes discover our perception is not reality.

I’m preaching a parish mission somewhere in New Jersey. I’m dressed as a priest. It’s Saturday afternoon – I’m trying to find this church. I’m lost. I pull into a gas station just across from a water tower. I ask this young gas station attendant if he knows where St’s Peter and Paul Church is. He stays quiet for a moment. Then he says, “It looks like you came down this street, so go out of the station, make a left turn and go up this street for 5 lights till you hit a big main road. Make a left turn there and then go 1 light. Make a left turn there and go down 3 lights and the church will be on your left.

I say okay.

Using my hand I go the 5 lights till I hit the big main road. I go one light and make a left and go down 3 lights and sure enough there it is. However, as I’m getting out of my car I see the water tower just to my left. I say to myself, “The son of a gun. He could have told me to go out of the gas station – go to the corner - and then make a right and go a few blocks there is the church. Ugh.

Sunday afternoon I go to take a walk and I’m heading for the tower and the gas station on foot. Surprise I come to a canal that can’t be crossed – and I realize then and there I had to go the way the gas station guy sent me.

We’re driving to Colorado – 4 priests – from the Bronx – to go back packing in the Rockies. We hit Colorado in 32 hours – straight driving – switching drivers every 2 hours. We’re now in Colorado driving west and we see the mountains ahead of us. It’s getting really dark – and we won’t be able to get into Estes Park – in the Rockies till morning, so we decide to pull onto a dirt road and we climb over a barbwire fence – set up our two tents and sleep for the night.

We wake up in the morning. It’s all bright outside – but we’re surrounded by two dozen or so steer’s grazing. We get out of our tent – trying to avoid steer drops – and surprise, there are no mountains. We still have miles and miles to go. What we saw the night before were clouds that looked like mountains.

CONCLUSION

Perception is reality, till we discover our perception is not reality.

Sometimes mountains are mountains and sometimes mountains are just clouds that disappear in the morning.

Sometimes molehills are mountains and sometimes mountains are molehills.

Sometimes lumps are cancerous – sometimes they are just lumps.

TWO BLIND MICE

INTRODUCTION

[You probably have heard the nursery rhyme called, “The Three Blind Mice”.
3 blind mice,
See how they run!
They all ran after the farmer’s wife,
Who cut off their tails
with a carving knife,
Did you ever see such
a sight in your life,
As 3 blind mice?

People have different theories and stories about it going back to the 1600’s. Some say it refers to Queen Mary and her killing 3 Protestant Bishops or 3 Protestant martyrs, Ridley, Cramner and Latimer or it refers to 3 millers. It makes for ongoing detective work and theories.

When I was a kid I remember seeing a few Brooklyn Dodger games at Ebbets Field - and many games on TV in black and white. In those days they used 3 umpires for a game. Well, there was a group of musicians at some games called the "Sym-Phony Band." They would play the tune, "Three Blind Mice" when the umpires came on the field or made what they thought was a bad call.

This story is about 2 blind mice and I made it up for a story for today’s readings – triggered by the story of Jesus’ healing 2 blind men. I’m not sure how to come up with a good kick at the end, so this is a first draft. The readings are the readings for the 1st Friday of Advent, Isaiah 29:17-24 and Matthew 9: 27-31. So here's a story entitled, “Two Blind Mice”.]

Once upon a time there were 2 blind mice. They were so cute and so cuddly – and they lived a long, long, long life. Their names were Ray and Claire – and they celebrated many a wedding anniversary together – getting grey – but not that noticeable – because after all, grey is the color of mice.

Clare was beautiful and loving – and always gave her husband first pickings of whatever food they found. Ray was round and furry - and well fed - and always had a great smile on his face.

Their handicap, blindness, ended up being their blessing.

Why?

Well, all mice, as every one knows, stay close to the wall of every room they enter. Now that’s where the traps are. Now that’s where the cats wait. But Ray and Claire – being blind – they didn’t know where the walls were. So they just marched into every room they entered and moved about freely.

Jesus loved seeing the 2 blind mice every time they came into the carpenter shop – sniffing around – finding a crumb here and a crumb there. They loved goat cheese – a bread crumb – or a drop of wine which might have spilled or dropped on the floor. In fact, they especially loved a drop of wine around supper time - and Jesus often oblidged them. They thought of it as the miracle of the wine. It was like a happy hour if they found a drop or 2 just before looking for supper.

But Jesus, Mary and Joseph also felt sad for these 2 blind mice, because they never got to see the color of leather or cloth, the blue of sky, the birds of the air or the flowers of the field. They never got to see the white flow and flash of a goat’s white hair when it scurried or the grey and brown white of a sheep’s coat.

Well, these 2 blind mice were still there when Jesus left home – to go on his mission – of preaching good news – the good news to love one another. And Jesus forgot the 2 blind mice after he really got busy – that is, till one day he walked by 2 blind men – who called out to him, “Son of David, have pity on us!”

I don’t know if Jesus heard them – in fact, I’m surprised if he didn’t because they were shouting, “Son of David, have pity on us!”

Well, these were 2 pretty persistent blind men. They followed Jesus to his house there in Capernaum – and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I can do this?”

“Yes, Lord,” they said to him.

“So Jesus touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done to you according to your faith.”

And their eyes were opened.

At that Jesus’ eyes were also opened. He remembered the 2 blind mice from his childhood. He rejoiced because now these 2 blind men could see what those 2 blind mice never saw. Jesus rejoiced because they saw – and what he hoped everyone would see: each other.

He rejoiced because these 2 blind men could see the birds of the air – and all the different kinds of birds – and all the different animals and all their different colors and shades of color. He rejoiced that they could see the color and texture of bread and wine – and their families around the table. He rejoiced because they could see forests and orchards, gates and doors, synagogues and homes. He rejoiced that they could see cats and mice – feet and teeth – tears of joy and tears of sadness.

But what brought the biggest smile to Jesus’ face was that these 2 blind men no longer had to walk along the sides of rooms or houses holding onto the wall as they walked. Nope they could now come center stage – right out in the middle of everything.

He told them not to tell anyone about the healing, but they went out and broadcast it to everyone in the village and area.

This meant more work to Jesus – which he didn’t mind – most of the time. But there were times he had to escape – and hide out like a mouse somewhere, some place, where no one could find him. Amen.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my reflection is, “Do You See What I See?”

Advent has great readings – today’s readings for example.

Advent has great music – especially when we hit Christmas.

Maybe musicians had more time in the cold winter time – to come up with beautiful music. Or maybe it’s the feast – the birth of Christ – the coming of the Savior – the story of a baby born of a virgin – in a stable – in a manger – on a cold winter’s night – far from home – who would become the savior or our world.

“O come let us adore him. O come let us adore him.”

A CHRISTMAS HYMN

There is a beautiful Christmas hymn. I’ll say the words, because I can’t sing,

Said the night wind to the little lamb:
Do you see what I see? (Do you see what I see?)
Way up in the sky, little lamb?
Do you see what I see? (Do you see what I see?)
A star, a star, Dancing in the night,
With a tail as big as a kite, With a tail as big as a kite.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy:
Do you hear what I hear? (Do you hear what I hear?)
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy?
Do you hear what I hear? (Do you hear what I hear?)
A song, a song, High above the tree,
With a voice as big as the sea, With a voice as big as the sea.

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king:
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)
In your palace warm, mighty king?
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)
A Child, a Child, Shivers in the cold.
Let us bring Him silver and gold!
Let us bring him silver and gold!

Said the king to the people everywhere:
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
Pray for peace, people everywhere.
Listen to what I say!
(Listen to what I say!)
The Child, the Child, Sleeping in the night,
He will bring us goodness and light.
He will bring us goodness and light.
FRUSTRATION

One of life’s greatest frustrations is when the other – or others - don’t see what we see, don’t hear what we hear, don’t know what we know, don’t say what we say. Very frustrating.

If we think we have it bad, when it comes to frustration, think of Isaiah in today’s first reading.

He sees a stump on the ground – the round remnants of a cut down tree.

Everyone sees a stump. He sees hope – restoration, recovery, resurrection, because he sees a little green shoot shooting and sprouting out of the side of the stump of the cut down tree.

He sees. He hears. He knows. He is saying, “There is hope.”

At times we see people acting like animals – biting and fighting and killing each other. Isaiah sees different possibilities for people. He sees hope.

He sees that the wolf can be the guest of the lamb. The leopard can lie down with the goat. The calf and the young lion can browse together. And in their midst there is the small child. The cow and bear can be neighbors. The lion shall eat hay like the ox. The baby will be safe to play near the adder’s lair and the cobra’s den.

The peaceable kingdom is possible as Isaiah said, as Edward Hicks the painter painted, like every dreamer sees, knows, hears, and says.

They also know the frustration when others don’t see, hear, know or say what they see, hear, know and say.

Jesus also knew this kind of frustration – big time.

Turning to today’s gospel, we hear,

Turning to the disciples in private he said,“Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings
desired to see what you see,but did not see it,and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”

Do you see what Jesus saw?
Do you hear what Jesus hears?
Do you know what Jesus knows?
Do you say what Jesus says?

CONCLUSION

Isn’t that why we’re here?

Isn’t that why we come to Jesus?

Advent is a time to see, hear, know and say – what we see, hear, know and Jesus says. Amen. Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus.

This was a homily for the 1st Tuesday in Advent - December 1, 2009. The readings were: Isaiah 111-10 and Luke 10: 21 - 24

ENDPOINT

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Endpoint.”

Endpoint is the title of a book of poems I just finished reading. It's by John Updike. He died this year at the age of 76. It was his last book – hastily put together – just weeks before his death. (January 26, 2009) He dedicates the book to his wife "Martha, who asked for one more book: here it is, with all my love." And it's obvious in this thin book how much love and joy he found with his wife.

Since I always thought he was one of America’s best writers, I read it. It’s a good read – but not a great read. There was no poem in the book that grabbed me like some of his earlier poems had. He wrote over 60 books: novels, short stories, poetry and art and literary criticism.

He was especially good at being a keen observer of what goes on inside us human beings and between us human beings.

Timing is everything. I found myself reading the book at the right time – hitting 70, hitting the end of the Church year – and now the beginning of a new church year – Advent – but also coming to the end of the regular calendar year and in another month or so, we hit the year 2010.

The title of my homily is, “Endpoint!” I don’t remember ever using that word – or thinking of its implications - in a homily. Having read the book, having to come up with a homily for today, the first Sunday of a new Church year, I thought I’d preach on the theme “endpoint” and use Updike’s last book before I bring it back to the Annapolis Public Library tomorrow.

I don’t like to just finish a book. I like to ask myself afterwards, “What did I hear in this book? What hit me? What’s being said?”

TODAY’S READINGS

Today’s readings talk about endpoints.

Jeremiah talks about days to come when promises will be met.

Jeremiah talks about a time to come when there will be peace and security in Jerusalem and the surrounding area.

Today’s second reading from First Thessalonians talks about the coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ with all his holy ones.

Today’s gospel also talks about this big endpoint – when Jesus, the Son of Man, will come back – on a cloud – in power – in glory.

In the early Church, most thought the endpoint was almost here.

Jesus tells us when the endpoint happens the seas will be roaring – the heavens will be shaking. There will be dramatic signs in the sky: in the sun, the moon and the stars. People will be perplexed and frightened. Jesus tells us when we see these signs, “raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.” Jesus tells us not to fall asleep – or be drunk – or trapped – or surprised – but to be ready for the end times.

In time, the Church realized that the end time was not coming.

This did not mean that there would not be predictions of end times from time to time. There were and there will be. But each time – nothing happened. The world did not end. We’re still going like the Energizer Bunny.

I would say one’s best bet is to say: we won’t see the endpoint of this world in our lifetime. The sun is 4.5 billion years old and is estimated to last at least another 5 billion years. How much time the earth has, we have no idea – and at some point – I’m imagining there will be expeditions to deep outer space. Maybe there are other worlds – and other places to inhabit or to discover.

In the meanwhile, today’s middle reading is the message we need to hear and bear in mind and put into practice. Increase in love for one another. Conduct, lead our life, following the instructions Jesus gave us.

ENDPOINTS – BACK TO THE BOOK

Now here is where the book of poems by John Updike helped me and triggered some good stuff.

We don’t know when the endpoint is for the universe – but we do know we have an endpoint for our life.

John Updike’s book are thoughts he put into poems in the last 7 years of his life – especially as he began to experience aging, sickness, cancer and the reality of the approach of death – his endpoint.

Let me list three thoughts that hit me. Maybe you’ll find them helpful for yourself as well.

FIRST: COMPARISONS

As I read the poems, I noticed he was comparing himself to others – neighbors – classmates – but especially his parents – when they were dealing with their life before their endpoint.

He writes about hitting the age of 69 – an age his dad didn’t reach. [p. 12]

He writes about his dad in a poem entitled, “Outliving One’s Father”. There he is, a little kid, walking with his dad – who was a high school science teacher – his dad standing tall next to him – he the only child - his shorter only offshoot.
“I could feel, above me,
the hunger in his stride, the fear
that hurled him along an edge
where toothaches, low pay, discipline
problems in the classroom were shadows
of an all-dissolving chaos.” [p. 54]

He writes about his mom in a poem, “My Mother at Her Desk”, about her blind hands flogging typewriter keys – in hopes of coming up with the right combination of words that would sell something she was writing – but she didn’t have the luck or the blessing of having anything published like he did – but she never gave up – sending in things she wrote – all coming back rejected. [p. 12]

I don’t remember my 50’s enough, but I know that I started doing more and more comparing in my 60’s. Does everyone do this? Does everyone at some point start to make a studied look at one’s parents and where we came from? This is the stuff of comparisons. I noticed John Updike used his birthdays – as days to compare his dreams and hopes with his realities – since his last birthday.

He also writes about the benefit of travel and moving – helping us to see things we never saw before – especially where we come from – things we missed when they were right in front of us. [p. 27]

SECOND: THE BODY

Updike writes about the body – which we become more and more conscious of as we get closer to our endpoint.

He writes about arthritis and time in hospitals. In a poem entitled, “To My Hurting Left Hand,” he ends by saying to his left hand, “Pained, I still can’t do without you.” [p. 42]

He writes about his old piano teacher’s joking about her latest diagnosis as, “Curtains.” [p. 23]

In a poem entitled, “Colonoscopy” he begins, “Talk about intimacy!” [p. 48]

He had lung cancer. He writes about sitting with a doctor and wondering if this is a wake up call. He writes,
“It seems that death has found
the portals it will enter by: my lungs,
pathetic oblong ghosts, one paler than
the other on the doctor’s viewing screen.” [p. 21]

Certainly we are more aware of health and our bodies as we get closer to our endpoint.

THIRD AND LAST: FAITH

John Updike does not come out of a Catholic tradition. I’ve always known that. In fact he didn’t hesitate to let it be known that he was a Protestant Christian.

He articulates for all of us – that we have religious doubts as we get older – doubts different than the sparring we might have had as kids with parents who wanted us to go to church.

I know that he lost his faith early on in his career – but he found his Christian faith again in reading Soren Kierkegaard and Karl Barth. As he got older he moved around in the deep waters of religion – knowing the difference between surface and God deep stuff. I know he once said that the 3 great secret things in human experience were: sex, art and religion. (1)

Being a priest I noticed one poem where he describes a clergyman as “those comical purveyors of what makes sense to just the terrified”. He was sick and this clergyman had phoned him, but Updike adds, “and I loved him, bless his hide.” [p. 24]

As priest I know that sickness that leads to the endpoint of death – gets many people to come to God in a deeper way.

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily is, “Endpoint”.

Every homily has an endpoint. I assume many people say one of the most basic prayers at that moment: "Thank God!"

Life is filled with endings – as well as beginnings.

We just ended another Church year and we begin a new Church year today with this new Advent.

So too December which is coming up – the last month of our calendar year and then we move into a new year and a new decade in January.

So too football games: one ends and another begins; that ends and another begins; and on and on and on.

So too going into a restaurant; we go in as people are coming out.

So too going over the Bay Bridge; as we go up the bridge, we see cars on the other side getting off.

Life is filled with comings and goings – ins and outs – deaths and resurrections – starts and finishes – starting points and endpoints.

John Updike’s book triggered the memory for me of the day – June 26, 1970 – when we said goodbye to our dad in Moses Maimonides Hospital in Brooklyn on. He died. We came downstairs – and as we were going out the lobby door, so too were a couple with a new born baby. We experienced a death. They experienced a birth

So too us – we are moving along through life – crossing bridges – going to work – coming home from work – entering schools and graduating from schools – waking up and going to bed – shopping for a meal and putting out the garbage.

In the meanwhile let’s “increase and abound in love for one another and for all” as Paul told us in today’s second reading. Let’s enjoy the scenery and each other as we move along.

Or as Thornton Wilder said in his play, The Skin of our Teeth, “My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it’s on your plate – that’s my philosophy.”

Or as someone else said, “Eat dessert first! You never know when your endpoint is going to begin.” Amen.

*

(1) “In his autobiographical piece, 'The Dogwood Tree: A Boyhood', Updike called sex, art, and religion "the three great secret things" in human experience. James Yerkes defined in his introduction to John Updike and Religion (2002), a collection of essays dealing with the religious vision of the author, "the religious consciousness in Updike may best be characterized as our sense of an unavoidable, unbearable, and unbelievable Sacred Presence." Existential questions were in the center of Updike's work from the beginning of his career. He also read theologians for guidance and regularly attended church for worship.” [ Cf. http:www.kirjasto.sci.fi/updike.htm]

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Table, turkey, conversation, connecting,
remembering, family, fun, lots of dessert….
Hello’s, hugs, hi’s, home….
A lot more time just sitting there ….
Not rushing to finish the meal – just enjoying
mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, pies,
family specials – recipes passed down –
thankful for each other – each other – each other –
realizing who’s there – what has happened
to each other in this past year – or since the last time
we saw each other. It’s a glimpse
of the way it was and the way it will be.
Giving Thanks. Happy Thanksgiving.

© Andy Costello, Blog # 600

Reflections, 2009

CHRIST THE WHAT?_____
FILL IN THE BLANK

The title of my homily, better story, is, “Christ the What?___ Fill in the Blank.”

Once upon a time there was this priest who didn’t like the title of “Christ the King” for Christ. He just didn’t like it. And every time it came time to celebrate the feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Church year, he would go “Oooooooh – No!” – and do some inward grumbling and complaining.

He would celebrate the feast – with a smile on his face – but an unhappy mind in his mind.

So with the feast of Christ the King about to happen, he decided to see if he could contact Christ in person – and get his take on the title – or what have you.

He first sat with Christ in prayer – in church – in the presence of Jesus and voiced his question and dislike.

No answer. Silence. Quiet.

He checked the phone book. Just by an odd chance, maybe there would be a phone number for Christ in there. No luck. But, hey, you never know.

He called the local bishop – didn’t get him – but got a secretary, “By any chance, any chance whatsoever, would Jesus Christ have a phone number?”

The bishop’s secretary thinking this was just one more nut – said, “No! But I can give you the pope’s phone number.”

“Now that’s getting somewhere,” he thought.

He called the pope and got the pope’s residence, and heard the words, “German, hit 1, Italian, hit 2, Spanish, hit 3, French, hit 4, English hit 5.” He hit 5 and got a real live human being, “Pope’s Residence. What can I do for you?”

He stated his first name – didn’t say he was a priest – and then said, “I’m trying to get Christ’s phone number.”

The answer was simple – but direct, “Are you crazy? Christ doesn’t have a phone or a phone number. Good bye.”

With that he almost gave up, but the thought hit him, “Try Google! Everyone says you can get everything on Google.”

So he tried Google. He typed in, “Jesus Christ’s Phone Number.”

Sure enough there were hits – lots of possibilities. As he looked at them they were mostly Church phone numbers – churches with “Jesus Christ” in their title, but there on screen 109, was a phone number. “Should I call? Probably some strange ranger in northwest Alaska or Southeast Australia will answer, but I’ll try it.”

He dialed the number he found there on Google under “Jesus Christ’s Phone Number.”

“Hello.” It was a calm, gentle voice, and in English. “Can I help you?”

Totally shocked he said, “Jesus Christ! Is this Jesus Christ?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“Well, I’m one of your followers – well, a, a, a, I better admit it up front – I’m a priest and with your feast of Christ the King coming up, I just want to find out, if you like that title – a, because to be honest, I don’t like it.”

“Okay, you don’t like it? Just call me Jesus of Nazareth or Jesus, Son of Mary, or whatever you would like. Alpha? Omega? Shepherd. Lamb. Light. Whatever?”

“Ah, okay, but, well, ----- well were you really a king or King of the Jews?”

“What did you say your name was? You sound just like Pontius Pilate. He asked me that same question. Check the gospel reading for the feast. I think that’s the gospel story they actually use for that feast.”

“You’re right, but I’m not sure , if it’s all right, not to like the title, ‘Christ the King.’”

“Okay.”

“Well, I’m sure you heard all this. In our country, we don’t have kings and it seems calling you a “king” puts you up there on a platform – or out of touch with people – and all that – and I know that’s not you.”

“Yes, that’s okay. You’re right. I told Pilate and so many others, I’m not the type of king who has armies and rich robes. I walk dusty roads and ride a donkey on odd occasions. I wash feet and rub shoulders with women in crowds who have blood problems – but I also sat and ate in the homes of rich tax collectors – been at weddings – and I let a sinful women wash my feet and dry them with her hair. Wow did that one trigger comments. Or if you want a real big contrast, look at what happened on Palm Sunday and then check out what happened the following Friday.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I’m on the same page with you here a bit.”

“Relax. But can I ask you a question, ‘Who do you say that I am?’”

“That’s funny … very funny Jesus. That’s the same question you asked Peter and your disciples when everyone was trying to figure out who you are.”

“Yes. So just call me Jesus. Just stay awake with me once an a while – for an hour – or whatever. Just wrestle with me – with the questions I was wrestling with – doing my Father’s Will – getting people to enjoy the Sabbath and not make it a burden. Life can be tough enough. Stop to see the beauty of the birds of the air and the flowers in the field. Realize that wheat and grapes have to die to become bread and wine. So too people – they have to sacrifice and die to themselves, if they want to be in real communion with each other. Help me to stop people from throwing stones at others – to stop judging others – to see themselves in their brothers and sisters – to love one another – to go the extra mile with each other – to give the shirt off your back – to turn the other cheek – to forgive 70 times 7 times – all that stuff you can find in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I just want to eat with people – to be with people – to be in their lives – each day. That’s all. I want them to not be at a distance from me – to evolve, to come down from their trees and invite me into their homes.”

“Oh, okay Jesus. Thanks. Can I call you again?”

“Any time. Thank you – and best of luck with your sermon and don’t forget, I’s the king! Just kidding. Just kinging. Thanks for ringing.”

COME FOLLOW ME!

“Come follow me!”

“How far?”

“Come follow me!”

“But what can I take with me?”

“Come follow me.”

“But I don’t know where we’ll end up?”

“Come follow me!”

“Can I quit and come back, if I don’t like it?”

“Come follow me!”

“Who are you to ask someone to just drop everything – family, networks, dreams, and follow you?”

“Come follow me!”

“Why are you laughing?”

"Come follow me and find out."

* Drawing on top by a friend of mine,

the graphic artist, Al Pacitti
© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009