Sunday, July 3, 2016

July 3, 2016

CIRCLE   SIX  
[SELF-TEST #21]

Sensitive, silent, smart, stupid, smooth, stormy,
self-centered, sexy, sour, suspicious, standout,
settled, sturdy, shoddy, stuck, shifty, significant,
scared, sacred, sinful, strange, secondary, star, social, sledgehammer, straightforward, secure,
struggling, successful, sullen, sterile, sergeant, sweet, sure, swagger, server, silk, slick, snob,
shrugging, sleepy, soft, shameful, stinger, steel,
sinister, splashy, stubborn, stalling, solitary, sad, singing, sophisticated, skillful, status quo, strong, sinister, slacker, sulking, scientific, somebody .... 




© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

MARKS  ON  OUR  MEMORY


INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time [C] is, “Marks On Our Memory.”

Marks - nicks, smudges, dents, scars, graffiti….  

I read today’s readings a couple of times - to get a theme to think about - and to preach about. 

A comment in the second reading from Paul in his letter to the Christian community in Galatia hit me: “From now on, let no one make troubles for me, for I bear the marks of Jesus on my body.”

So that’s where I got the title and theme for this homily entitled, “Marks on Our Memory.”

What’s Paul saying there?  Is it the same message a mother says when a kid is driving her crazy: “Hey I still have the stretch marks from when I was pregnant with you. I still have the wrinkles from when I worried many a sleepless night about you - when you were sick as a kid - and when you were a teenager.”

I suppose St. Paul was thinking about all the cuts and bruises he got - ever since he started his journey to bring Christ to the world - that he too has experienced a daily way of the cross. In 2 Corinthians 11:25 he says, “Five times I had the 39 lashes from the Jews; three times I have been beaten with sticks; once they threw stones at me; three times I have been shipwrecked and once adrift in the open sea for a night and a day.”

Talk about marks - scars - memories….  Life.

MARKED FOR LIFE

If we think about it, daily living brings daily struggles; daily struggles bring cuts;  and cuts leave scars.  

If we think about it, we are marked for life from where we’ve been and what we’ve been through. We have cuts and scars, dents and scratches, on the skin of our soul - on the places we have been.

We notice that first dent, that first bump, that first scratch on a new car.

We kneel there at the dead body of a loved one in a casket - in the funeral parlor and we’re saying a Hail Mary for them using the rosary in their hands and we notice a scar on the back of their right hand. We think, “I wonder what happened there.”

The next time you’re in someone’s house, sit there and look around at all you can see in the room you’re in: photographs on end tables, paintings on the wall, knick knacks on book shelves - and then there is the water stain up there in the corner of the ceiling or a dark spot on a rug.

I wonder what happened there. I wonder why that picture is there.

As Forest Gump said, “It happens.”

In today’s first reading from Isaiah he tells Jerusalem to rejoice in all the good things that happened there. Other writings could talk about the bad things that happened in Jerusalem through the years  - the pockmarks of war on her walls, the houses that caved in, the loose bricks on her sidewalks.

Life is the lifting of a glass of wine in celebration at a sidewalk cafĂ© - seeing the beauty of a city or downtown area with folks walking by with ice cream in hand. It’s also the “Uh oh’s!” and the “Oh no’s!” of broken pipes and shootings and signs telling us that a road is closed for maintenance.

Today’s gospel has Jesus sending out his disciples - 72 of them - and Jesus says bring peace, bring healing, and eat with the folks who feed you. But some folks might not be so peaceful, so shake the dust of that place off your feet and move on. There are plenty more places than this place.

NOT SO EASY

The title of my homily is, “Marks on Our Memory.”

Sometimes the magic marker graffiti of a 3 year old doesn’t come off.
Sometimes the spaghetti stains can’t be removed even with Magic Off Whitener. Sometimes when we’re waiting for medical results at 66 we worry about a mistake we made when we were 26.

It’s hard to forget our mistakes. It’s easy to regret our mistakes.

Who said we have to forget our mistakes?  Who said forgetting is part of forgiving? Forgetting is part of dementia and aging.

So we have our demons and our dust…. We have our snakes and our scorpions…. There are lambs - but there are also wolves.

So life is mixed. But we seem to remember - and spot our chips and our cracks more than  the perfect wall or rug. In this homily I’m stressing seeing and celebrating them - because they are who we are and how we got here.

A WONDERFUL STORY

In my last assignment - preaching parish missions out of St. Gerard’s Parish in Lima, Ohio, I was driving to the next parish with Tom, the priest I worked with for 8 ½ years.

In the car on the way he told me three stories he had - and asked me which of the three should he use.

He told me 3 stories he found. I listened while driving.

He finished # 3 and I screamed, “The second one. Use the second one.”

Here’s the story that he told. It went something like this.  I don’t know who wrote it - or who told it - but it was a gift to me that trip - down a highway of life.

Every week or so, two good friends would sit down in the afternoon, have a cup of tea and talk some sweet talk about their lives with each other.

They both were farmer’s wives.

The visitor was sitting there and the phone rang. When the lady who lived in the home answered the phone, the other lady stood up to stretch and just happened to look into the dining room.

“Ooops,” she said.

The lady who lived there said it was her husband who just called to tell her he’d be home 15 minutes late for dinner.

The visitor said, “I’m sorry. It looks like you’re having guests in for supper and here I am talking away.”

“No,” said the lady. “It’s only us for supper tonight.”

“Well, why is the dining room table all set up.”

“Oh,” she answered, “We always have one big fancy dinner one night every month and tonight’s the night.”

“And I put out our best china and best silverware - best cloth napkins - and one favorite meal of someone.”

By now both were in the dining room and the visitor was admiring the best of everything on the dining room table - including crystal candle ware.

Then the lady who lived there said, “Everything on the table has a story. Some of these plates go back to my great, great grandparents.”

Then she stopped at her place and said, “And here is my favorite plate.”

It was a plain white plate - but it had a piece missing along the rim.

She had a beautiful smile on her face as she said, “Let me tell you the story about this plate.”

I was 17 at the time. It was a summer evening and my dad and my three brothers and a buddy of one of my brothers was standing there with them ready for supper.

They were haying and they were going to go back out after supper for another two hours of work. It was Daylight’s Saving Time and there would still be plenty of light for work and it would be cooler.

Well, I had never seen this buddy of my youngest brother before. He introduced this young man to me and winked at me and made me sit next to him at this dining room table.

During the meal my brother was trying to bust me about this guy.

At one point my brother handed me the heavy cold water with ice pitcher and said pointing to his buddy on the other side of me, “Fill his glass with more water.”

I did, but nervously…. Putting the pitcher back down on the table,  I put it down onto my plate and chipped the edge of the plate. People were talking and laughing and I didn’t think anyone noticed it.

First chance I got when supper was over, I got this plate back into the kitchen. Phew.

Then the boys and my dad went back to work on this farm.

I was in the kitchen. My brother came in with his buddy and said, “Aren’t you going to say ‘Goodbye to Tom.”

I did. He held out his hand to shake it goodbye and when he did he put the tiny chip from my plate in my hand and smiled.

Then after a long pause the woman told her visiting friend, “That chip of china is upstairs in my jewelry box and Tom and I were married a year later.”

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily is, “Marks on Our Memory.”


We all have the same story. Chips and pieces from the breaks of our lives - splinters from the crosses of your lives - are in our box in the upper room of our skull - and they are all part of whom we have become.

I think that’s what Paul is telling us in today’s second reading - but it’s good to check out and read and tell our story to another - like the 72 disciples in today’s gospel who came back to Jesus - to tell him what happened in their journey.  

Two by two…. sound familiar?  Any couples here?

Saturday, July 2, 2016

July 2, 2016





FABRIC, THE BACK OF….

In a garden - I  stopped to touch
the white fabric of a rose - only to
see directly below - sitting there
at the roots of that rose bush -
the rough hard back of a turtle….
Wow the difference between the
top of a turtle and the fabric of
a rose - between the back of the
neck of a  laughing kid on a swing
and the back skin of that old guy I just
saw in the nursing home heading back
to his room in his open backed johnny.


© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Friday, July 1, 2016


YOU  GOTTA  LAUGH,
YOU  GOTTA  CRY,
YOU  GOTTA  BEND, 
AND  THEN  YOU  DIE.

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 13 Friday in Ordinary Time is, “You Gotta Laugh, You Gotta Cry, You Gotta Bend, and Then You Die.”

That’s a wisdom statement. That’s a description of ways to deal with life.

FIRST STORY

For starters I like to tell a story that I love. It’s about attitude. It’s about how we see life - how we see where we are - and how we think.

A man is walking down a road and comes to a town.

He spots a man raking his lawn and he goes over to the man and says, “I’m on the road and I’m looking for a place to settle. I’m wondering what kind of town this is. What’s it like around here?”

The guy with the rake asks the man, “Where are you coming from?”

The traveler says, “From a town a few hundred miles away from here.”

“Well” says the man with the rake, “what was it like where you come from?”

The traveler says, “Oh it was a horrible place. That’s why I left there. Everyone there was selfish and self-centered. People talked about people behind their back. You had to lock your door all the time. Just not that nice a place to be.”

“Well,” says the man with the rake, “I suppose you’ll find the same sort of folks here.”

“Thank you,” says the man on the road, “Thank you. I guess I’ll just keep traveling around till I find the right place.”

Twenty minutes later another man comes down that same road into that same town and goes over to the same man and asks the same question. “Hey mister, I’m looking around for a place to settle. What’s this town like?”

And the man with the rake asks the same question, “Well what was it like in the place you’re coming from.”

“Oh, it was wonderful,” says the traveler. “I loved the place. Good people there. You never had to lock your door. People would watch out for people. However, the company I was working for downsized, so I had to get moving to try to find a job somewhere.”

“Well,” said the man with the rake, “I suppose you’ll find the same kinds of folks here.”

“Oh, thank you,” said the man on the road. “I walk on in and give it a try.”

ATTITUDE

That’s a story about attitude. The town is in the mind of the beholder.

In this homily or reflection I want to talk about attitude. Stepping back thoughts about dealing with life.

I like to stress the importance of altitude effecting attitude.

If we stay low - hiding out in corners and watching TV and not getting out  and getting high on the good stuff of life - then we stay low, down, and we can end being a depressive.

Jesus told us to climb mountains - become transfigured - otherwise we get disfigured - disgusted - distrustful about life.

So it’s good to go to the movies, take hikes, see plays, go to concerts, take a good vacation, climb a mountain.

Altitude effects attitude.

SECOND STORY

I was talking to a Protestant minister recently and he said he was fed up with the struggles within his community - and he was seriously thinking of becoming a Catholic.

So I said to him - without telling the first story - that he’ll find in the Catholic Church - the same struggles he finds in his Protestant Church.

I added that I live with 10 priests - and we are across the board with different takes on different issues.

TODAY’S READINGS

You gotta laugh, you gotta cry, you gotta bend and then you die.

In today’s gospel Jesus calls Matthew a tax collector - who stands up and follows Jesus - then he throws a great dinner for Jesus to show him off to other tax collectors and sinners and the funny thing is the Pharisees - instead of rejoicing that they are not going to be taxed by Matthew any more - scream, “Your teacher eats with tax collectors and sinners.”

You gotta laugh at that. You gotta cry at that. We have to bend and see ourselves as Pharisees, as Sinners, taxing others with our complaints.

And in today’s first reading from Amos you gotta laugh at the comment where baldness comes from: cheating in the marketplace. You gotta cry that some are ripping off the poor - fixing the scales - adding to the weights.

JUNIPERO SERRA

Today is the feast of Saint Junipera Serra.

You gotta laugh, you gotta cry, you gotta bend when it comes to Saint Junipera Serra.

He and the Franciscans are responsible in big part for a whole series of missions in California and down into Mexico. San Diego, Los Angeles and all those other San Cities that got their names because of these Spanish Missionaries. 

You gotta laugh on how they plowed a great future. You gotta cry that much was at the native people’s expense. You gotta scream at those who complained at Serra’s tactics - rough at times - and if all this was done today, it would be all very different.

You gotta say that much is hindsight!

Just as the Book of Genesis could not be written back then with what we know now - so too the Franciscan Missions.

Once while in Tucson I got in on a trip to Magdalena Mexico with a reporter, a photographer and a priest. We went down to a shrine there of a Jesuit - I think it was Father Kino - but because the Jesuits were repressed sometime back then - the habit on the Jesuit - was switched to that of a Franciscan.

You gotta laugh at that.

I was told to climb the steps up onto this platform that held a statue of the Jesuit priest dressed in a Franciscan habit. Each pilgrim had to move along towards the head of the statue. The legend was that one then had to put their hand to the back of the neck of the statue and if you could not pick it up, you were in mortal sin.

The photographer and the reporter were off to the side ready to take my picture. I could not lift it. I took my other hand and got Father Kino by the neck and lifted him.

Snap. Snap. Picture. Picture. Me with a great smile.

CONCLUSION


Moral of the story: when it comes to religion, when it comes to life, you have to laugh, you have to cry, you have to bend, and then you die.
July 1, 2016



THE EYE

We get amazed at the latest iPhone,
cellphone, car, restaurant, song, but
fail to see the capabilities of the eye -
that is - until we begin looking into
the eye of another - regularly - until
they become our beloved.  It’s then
we discover the reality of other - and
when we do - we’re on the way out of
seeing it's not all about me, myself and
I - but it's about seeing the human race -
and seeing ourselves in the eye of God
and sometimes it’s the other way around.
  

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Thursday, June 30, 2016

June 30, 2016
PREDICTABLE

Just trying to be predictable….

Does anyone ever really try
to be just that:  predictable?

Never thought of that….

Thinking about that now….

Yes - getting home on time;
putting the garbage out;
emptying the dishwasher;
a kiss upon leaving and a
kiss upon coming in the door….

How about surprises?
How about unpredictable,
surprises - like going out
for chocolate chocolate
chip ice cream on a
Saturday morning or
rollerblading at 75?

Never thought of that?

Not thinking about that now….

But other stuff yes.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

June 29, 2016

FORMS  OF  MADNESS

A form of madness: to sing the national
anthem all alone before 22,000 people.

A form of madness: to learn the names of all the
capitals of the world - like Astana in Kazakhstan. 

A form of madness: to learn to juggle Christmas
ornaments and to be fluent in the sign language.

A doctor making house calls for free 
one day a week - in a poor neighborhood.

A form of madness: to become pregnant
and I’m not going to abort - but to serve.

A form of madness: to work on a Habitat
for Humanity work site for a Spring Break.

A form of madness: to take a vow of celibacy
and to become for all - Sister, Brother, Priest.

A form of madness: to spend 50,000 hours
learning to play the piano, guitar, oboe or drums.

A form of madness: God becoming human so
we humans can become God and we kill Christ.

A form of madness: to be dying and to say,
“I believe in Christ - who means resurrection.”


© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016