A DIET OF ANGER 

CAN CAUSE EMOTIONAL 

INDIGESTION

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this Eleventh Monday in Ordinary Time  is, “A Diet of Anger Can Cause Emotional Indigestion.”

TODAY'S READINGS

That’s the thought that hit me when I read today’s 2 readings.

The gospel is from the Sermon on the Mount which offers lots of peace giving messages about how to be at peace in this life.

Questions: Have you ever met someone whom you and others describe as, “He’s an angry person!” or “She’s an angry woman!” and you slowly slip slide away whenever your see him or her if possible. Has anyone ever described me or you as an angry person? If I am and if they think that, I’m sure the comments are made behind our backs.

In the Sermon on the Mount, we’ve already heard about killing and cursing and anger. We've heard about making reconciliation before coming here to offer our gifts at the altar. In today’s gospel Jesus addresses the issue of retaliation. You hit me. You yell at me. You curse at me. I come back at you double fold. Listen to children - but especially adults - in a fight - and you'll notice that Jesus knows what he’s talking about. Jesus today and tomorrow tells us to double our reactions the other way: turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, pray for those we hate or don’t like.

Jesus knows life. Jesus knows people. Jesus knows reactions.

EATING AND ANGER

I’m have been convinced many - many - many times - that Jesus figured out somewhere along the line the deep and obvious connection between eating and  anger - eating and relationships - eating and communion. I am convinced we too know this down deep. Our tummies hurt when we’re hurting with another. We can’t eat when we’re very angry - or we over eat. Communion means community.

Jesus is seen in the scriptures often eating. And whom does he eat with? Sinners. He’s in communion with them. 

Now I know people disagree with this: but I don’t get this communion blocking stuff. Jesus says: go out into the highways and byways and bring them in. My banquet must be filled. But some want to block some from eating at the banquet - because of inner anger - theological anger - ideological anger - mysterious anger. 

I catch that they are eating too much anger. I have avoided  MSNBC and FOX News - and I can't wait till November 7th. It's my perception: some of these news programs spread out a table full of spicy words and a diet of diatribe. 


By their fruits - you will know them. By my reactions - I can feel "ugly energies" in my tummy and in my mind. "Quick turn the channel!" "Is there a ball game on or an old Western?"

Saying even this much is a contradiction to my own words - because I'm venting my "spleeny stuff". Enough already!!!!

Jesus is saying today: turn that other cheek. Go that extra mile. So, it's smart to cool the anger. 


Life is supposed to be a banquet. It's a meal. When we get upset with each other - if anger is our steady diet - if we're always chewing on what bugs us about each other - then expect indigestion.

I really got this thought from today’s first reading. Ahab wants what he wants when he wants it - and he can’t get what he wants when he wants it. And today’s reading from 1^st Kings says that Naboth doesn’t want to sell or give up his family land and roots - even if the king wants it.

Notice what 1^st kings next says about King Ahab, “Lying down on his bed, he turned away from food and would not eat.”  Then the text has Jezebel entering the story. It says, “His wife Jezebel came to him and said to him, ‘Why are you so angry that you will not eat?’”

There it is: anger has caused him emotional indigestion.  It also will cause Naboth his life - and it will also eventually destroy his life and Jezebel’s life.

QUESTION:  ONCE MORE

Once more, Jesus is challenging us today to get in touch with our angers - and see what they can do to us. And he offers wonderful solutions: going the extra mile and turning the other cheek.

CONCLUSION

Let me offer one more solution.

It’s this: when angry against another, say to self: “Self! You might be wrong!”

I know I have my list of life’s experiences when I was dead wrong - in what I thought was going on.

Let me close with a good strong story on this from today’s New York Times. I love to read Metropolitan Diary every Monday morning and it rarely disappoints me. People simply write into Metropolitan Diary something that happened to them on the streets of New York City.

This story is entitled, “Grabbing a Quick, and Unpleasant, Bite. It’s by a someone named, Winton J. Tolles. It came in on June 13, 2012, at 8:59 AM.

Dear Diary:

I am walking down Lexington Avenue on the Upper East Side. I have missed lunch and am late for a meeting when I pass a store handing out free samples. I grab three pieces, say a quick thank you, thrust the nourishment into my mouth and keeping moving.

The cheese tastes awful, but maybe it is an acquired taste. The more I chew, the worse it tastes, and my mouth is now full of a horrible, dreadfully unpleasant concoction. Since I am walking on Lexington Avenue, it is not appropriate to spit up on the sidewalk or the curb, so I have to keep chewing.

I use all my tenacity and swallow this horrid cheese sample.

At this point I am so angry that a store would foist this dish on a consumer that although I am late for a meeting, I reverse course and return to the scene of the sample.

I accost the young lady who is handing out the samples in a very loud voice: “That cheese was horrible. How can you give that out!”

She looks at me, hesitates, and then says uncertainly, “But these are samples of soap.”

I retreat quickly.

THE LISTENER - 

NOT THE SPEAKER

June 18,  2012   Quote for Today

"It's all in the ear of the beholder."

Tom Hayden, Boston Globe, September 24, 1979

THE   TREE

[Instead of a homily for this 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, B, because it is Father's Day, I sat down last night and wrote this story. It began by noticing that in the first reading and the gospel, mention is made of trees. And in the second reading, it has the great mantra: "... we walk by faith, not by sight."  It is totally an imaginary story - but as I listen to it, I'm sure I'll spot some realities. Like yesterday afternoon and into the evening I was at a wedding celebration and I got to sit next to the Father of the Bride.... And I'll sense my father in the story. He was quiet and liked poetry, but he was not an electrician.]

THE TREE

He was a father.

He was also a son - a brother - a husband - an electrician - a poet - yes a poet - and a very quiet sort of a fellow - definitely an introvert. He was well loved - easy going - someone you could call on to do a favor. Any thing. Any time. And when you asked him for help, he would come and do it with a smile and leave you and himself with a great smile.

He was not yet a father - but about to be.

His first child - a baby girl - 6 pounds 6 ounces - named Judy after his grandma - changed his life - as well as his wife’s life - for good. Obviously. 


The changes started shortly and slowly after his wife, Joan, called him at work, “We’re pregnant.” 


A tear came to his eye as he stood there after the call. He said to himself, “I’m going to be a father.”

He was a poet - not published - but he kept a small 9 ½  x 6 inch notebook in a second drawer in his work cabinet in the basement. In this notebook, he would jot down poem possibilities.  He was doing this ever since his sophomore year in high school - when his poem won the high school poetry contest. It was a total surprise: a poem about the wonderful taste of cold milk and three chocolate chip cookies.  After that he would get an idea for a poem during a game or at school and after he graduated from high school, while at work or where have you. So he was doing this from time to time since he was 15 years old.

Sometimes he would finish a poem - usually after 16 to 20 rewrites.  At first his poems had to have rhyme and a beat - but in time he moved away from that stricture and structure. He would borrow books of poems from the library on a regular basis and go through them. Poetry books were usually rather thin books. So it wasn’t that difficult a task  to finish 3 out of the 5 books - before he brought them back.  He studied forms and formats - especially of a poem that he could actually understand. To him, too many poems were too, too complicated. He never talked to anybody about all this. It was simply one of those little human, quiet hobbies or endeavors, that we all have.  They were like electricity in his wiring. He loved the poems of Carl Sandburg and Robert Frost, Elizabeth Bishop and Emily Dickinson.  

He was becoming a father.

While Judy was growing in her mother’s womb, he tried to write at least 4 poems to try to capture his feelings and the time. None were good enough or finished enough to be transferred to his other book - his final product poems - which he kept in a plastic bag - on the bottom of that second drawer in his work cabinet in the basement. This was a small black vinyl bound book. It had better paper and he wrote in it with better hand writing. On the front - it had the title of his book - printed in ball point pen - on a neat - perfectly cut label which he made from grey metallic duct tape. He entitled his book  -  Milk and Chocolate Chip Cookies. It was named after his first poem - the one that won the poetry contest in his sophomore year in high school.

Now that he was going to become a father he was wondering what image would he use to describe himself - as father. Since he was a big man - 6 foot 5, his nicknames in school were “Bear” and “Walrus”. He thought: should I think animal?

No. Nope. Neither made any connections in his mind.

Should he think object? One time there, he was called “Hunk.” Or then when he worked in a  gas station one summer he picked up the nickname “Hubcap!” because he knew a place where you could get hubcaps - any hubcap. Back then people would lose hubcaps way more than today. People would call or come to him - whenever they needed a used hubcap.

He was still waiting for the right image - right metaphor - for fatherhood.

After Judy was born - sitting out in their backyard - just off from the porch - with the new born baby in his arms, he realized that their piece of backyard had no trees. It was empty. He asked different fellows at work, what kind of tree is the best kind of tree to plant around here.

He decided on an oak tree. He found one in a nursery. It was thin. It was tall - about 12 feet tall. And they came the next day with their big truck and the long, tall,  teenage tree. They planted it in a half hour in the empty backyard.  It would take a lot more time to grow - but he was planning on being around for a long time.  He thought, “I can watch it grow - along with my family.”

He grew. His family grew. The tree grew. It grew slowly through the years. He made sure it got plenty of water and fertilizer. When you have only one tree, it’s quite a responsibility.

After Judy came Max - then Audrey - then Patricia. Three girls and a boy.

He was a father.

As the tree got bigger and stronger, he loved sitting under it with one, two, three, four of his kids on the grass next to him. Max - their only son - tried climbing the tree as he grew - but thank God only he - because it could be dangerous.

When Judy, their oldest daughter, got married at 22, she and dad and mom had to have a picture with her in her white gown - before they went to the church. They had started tree pictures ever since first communions and then confirmations and then graduations and now, he thought, marriages too. Praise God.

In fact, in time, on every special occasion, the oak tree had to be in on the picture.

When a kid got in trouble - or when he and Joan had a fight, he’d go out back by himself and sit under that growing, that knowing, tree. He'd sit with the loneliness of failure or fight - and then the beauty of forgiveness. Sometimes when one of the kids did some dumb thing - like being arrested for D.U.I. - if you looked, you could see dad outside from the kitchen window all by himself - under their oak tree.

And sometimes he’d have a note book in hand.

Sometimes he and Joan sat out there by themselves - praying for one of their kids - when that kid really needed prayer. Then again, they would always break into prayer for all four kids - as well as for each other. Family ….

Finally all four kids were gone - married - moved out - and it was just he and Joan. He asked Joan if she wanted to move - to a warmer weather place like Alabama or Georgia or Tennessee or one of the Carolinas. She said in bed that night, “We can’t. You can’t. You’ll miss your tree too much.”

One June afternoon -  when Joan was baby sitting for Judy's two kids - their two grand kids, Kevin and Kyle, he went outside and sat under the tree. He had in hand his note pad and began working on a poem he had dabbled in and worked with many times. It’s title was “Fatherhood”

             FATHERHOOD

       Fatherhood - a tree -

       that started as a tiny seed -

       but look at me now -

       rooted down deep

      in the dirt of

      the earth - but reaching high,

      high into the sky?

      Fatherhood - look at me -

      branching - branching out -

      arms outstretched -

      reaching for the east,

      reaching for the west,

      reaching for the best?

      Look at me!

      Look at me - broken at times -

      scared and scarred at times -

      whispering in the wind

      and in the storm -

      silent in summer’s hot days?

      Lean against me?

      Feel me growing and growing

      always reaching for the stars?

      Yet, but, if you stop to sit beneath me,

      you’ll hear my thoughts, my memories.

      The tree - each tree - this tree - 
      dying to become a chair,

      a table, the cross, a wall, a baseball bat,

      a broom, a church bench an altar,

      a part of a house - part of everything.

      Fatherhood. Now I see

      what Jesus learned in the carpenter shop

      with Joseph. No wonder he was always 
      thinking of God, our Father. Oh my God,  

      you are part of everyone and everything.

      Why did I ever become an electrician?

      I should have been a carpenter.

Under that poem was a tiny note,  “Version 14” and then he added another note, “Getting there.”

Seventeen years later - shortly after he died - Joan was down the basement - and you're not going to believe this - she spotted a clothes pin clipped half of a bag of chocolate chip cookies on top of his work bench underneath his work cabinet. Being inquisitive - or was it fate or faith - she just happened to open that second drawer in his cabinet?

Surprise. She saw his note book. She wondered a few times where he kept that - and what was in it.


And then the surprise of her life, the plastic bag - on the bottom of that drawer. She was about to throw it out. 


She looked inside. There it was: his ¾ finished book of poems, Milk and Chocolate Chip Cookies. 


And yes it had about 7 wonderful love poems just to her. 


And yes, she was tempted to go outside to his tree - but that would have taken too much time. She simply sat there in his chair in the basement - and she read all his poems. "Tears and chocolate chip cookies," she thought with a smile. 


Then - after reading it, she went upstairs - found her cell phone and called all 4 kids one by one. “Guess what I found in the basement - a gift from your father?” 


And then she read to each of their four kids - one at a time  - a poem he had written about that kid.

ON BEING A FATHER

June  17,  2012 - Fathers' Day - Quote for Today

"It's a wonderful feeling when your father becomes not a god but a man to you - when he comes down from the mountain and you see he's this man with weaknesses.  And you love him as this whole being, not as a figurehead."


Robin Williams, Rolling Stone, 1988

ENEMIES HELP US 

TO DEFINE AND 
DISCOVER OURSELVES

June 16, 2012  Quote for the Day

"I don't have a warm personal enemy left.  They've all died off.  I miss them terribly because they helped define me."

Clare Booth Luce [1903-1987], "The Dick Cavett Show,"  July 21, 1981

1932 Photo by Carl Van Vechten

Questions

What do you know about Clare Booth Luce?

How would you define yourself in 50 words or less?


What have been your biggest discoveries about yourself? List 5 "that I's" about yourself.

          I know this about myself, that I  ______________
          I know this about myself, that I  ______________
          I know this about myself, that I  ______________
          I know this about myself, that I  ______________
          I know this about myself, that I ______________

Who are your enemies?

Who are your warm enemies?  Who are your cold enemies?

What have each by name taught and told you about yourself?

Have you ever in your life talked to an "enemy" one to one? Please describe. Have you ever talked to a friend about any of those experiences? Please describe.

Check back:

Check back into my blog and you'll find a series of self tests.



































Have you ever in your life ever talked to an "enemy" one to one?

THE SACRED HEART:

3 IMAGES OF GOD’S LOVE

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Feast of the Sacred Heart: 3 Images of God’s Love.”

Today’s 3 readings give 3 images of God’s love for us.

For starters, there is a basic human question: “Do you love me!”

We ask it in various and many ways:

·        Does anyone love me?

·        Does she love me?

·        Does he love me?

·        Does [did] my mother love me?

·        Does [did] my father love me?

·        Do my children love me?

·        Does so and so love me?

·        Does God love me?

Today’s 3 readings for this feast of the Sacred Heart give 3 images of God’s love for us?

FIRST READING - FIRST IMAGE PARENTING

Today’s first reading from Hosea the Prophet gives the basic image of a parent loving a child. [Cf. Hosea 11: 3-4, 8c-9.] That’s where it all begins - being held and loved as a baby.

I’ll never forget a scary statement I heard in a lecture in a counseling course I was taking, “The bigger the problem, the earlier the problem.”

The speaker then said, “If a person has severe personality problems, sometimes it can traced back to horrible neglect of that person early, early in their childhood and babyhood.”

It gives me pause when I run into “problem people” or “strange rangers” or folks I find “difficult”.

Please God we have/had parents that love us.

All through the scriptures we hear that theme - God as a Parent - both Mother and Father - loving us. [1]

Hopefully, when we say the “Our Father” - we say it with deep feelings because we got glimpses of the love of God for us - because we had a loving father - or we experienced in our lifetime from guardians or father figures - great care and love for us.

Want to catechize your kids and grandkids?  Love them.

SECOND READING - THE IMAGE OF CONVERSION MOMENTS

In today’s second reading from Ephesians we have mention of Paul’s experience of Christ. [Cf. Ephesians 3: 8-12, 14-19.] Saul, who became Paul, was trying to remove mention of Jesus, or the presence, awareness, following, or attachment to Christ from Jewish folks who were becoming Christians. In his conversion Paul discovered that Christ was aware of him.

Today’s second reading has the word “access”. Isn’t that a neat image? Christ gives us “access” to the Father. In his conversion moment on the road to Damascus, Paul  discovered that the one he was trying to kill - erase - destroy - hurt - was the one who saved him from his destructive life style. In this Christ - in this mystery of Christ - which he entered - Paul experienced the love of God for him and for all. 

Conversion stories are reversal stories.

Listen again to the powerful words from Ephesians in today’s second reading - words of access to the Father through, in, and with Christ.

For this reason 
I kneel before the Father,
from whom every family in heaven 
and on earth is named,
that he may grant you 
in accord with the riches of his glory
to be strengthened with power

through his Spirit in the inner self,
and that Christ may dwell 
in your hearts through faith;
that you, rooted and grounded in love,
may have strength to comprehend 
with all the holy ones
what is the breadth and length 
and height and depth,
and to know the love of Christ 
which surpasses knowledge,
so that you may be filled 
with all the fullness of God.

GOSPEL - DEATH SCENES - THE SACRED HEART OF GOD

And today’s Gospel gives us the third image of God’s love for us.[Cf. John 19: 31-37] It is a  scene from Jesus’ death on the Cross. I assume it was chosen for this feast of the Sacred Heart because the lance is thrust into Jesus’ chest - his heart area - and out flowed blood and water.

What happens to you when you stand before an image, a statue or a picture of Jesus Christ? We have this gigantic image of Christ here at St. John Neumann’s. At St. Mary’s we have a big crucifix in the back of church, a statue of the Sacred Heart in the sanctuary, and an image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd on the upper wall of the sanctuary. What is your favorite image of Jesus? What moves you?

Looking at the history of how Jesus is pictured, using broad general statements, the first key image of Jesus was that of the Good Shepherd. Then came Jesus on the Cross. Then came Jesus as the Sacred Heart. In the last century came the image of Jesus filled with Divine Mercy. These images convey caring, relating, reaching out, pouring out one’s heart, for others.

Today we celebrating the image of the  Sacred Heart.

We know the meaning of the heart - in all those “I love you’s” - all those heart images on rings and things - bumper stickers - and Valentine Day stuff. We feel it in our pump - our chest - our heart - when we are loved and when we love.

CONCLUSION

In this homily I presented from today’s 3 readings, 3 images that God loves us. Today, on this feast of the Sacred Heart,  we celebrate that reality: God loves me.

[1] Pope John Paul I, [Albino Luciani] (1912-1978) said at the Sunday Angelus blessing in St. Peter's Square on September 17, 1978, "He is Father. Even more, God is Mother, who does not want to harm us."

STUFF  ME

June 15,  2012  Quote for Today

"If I am what I have and if I lose what I have who then am I?" 


Erich Fromm [1900-1980]