May  23, 2020

Thought for Today

“Breaks balance out.  The sun don’t shine on the same old dog’s rear end every day.”  

Darrell Royal

May  22,  2020

ISOLATION   GAME 

FOR  TEN  PEOPLE 

Instructions: Please Print when doing each paper.

For 10 people you need 100 pieces of paper.

Hand out 10 pieces of paper to everyone present in the room. 

On the top – next to name – ask everyone to PRINT CLEARLY their name on all 10 pieces of paper.

Next pass along the papers till each person has 10 pieces of paper with 10 different names  on top - including their own.

Then on each piece of paper there are 10 categories.

Task:  Looking at the name on the top of a page, describe that person by just one word for each category.

For example: John Doe - Car  - Mercedes.

Here are the 10 categories:

Tree    ___________

Dog     ___________

Drink   ___________

Color   ___________

Virtue  ___________

Gift     ___________

Season  __________

Meal   ___________

Musical Instrument  ________

Chess piece _______________

Closing instructions:  No talking during the filling out part of the game. Take bathroom breaks. Nothing negative. You can pass – on any category for any reason – for any person. After everyone has done everyone, including themselves, each person should end up in hand with ten pieces of paper with their name on top - with a one word for each category.  Then start talking – but no dominating the conversation. Looking at your paper, spot surprises. You can tell why you gave a particular description, but you don’t have to. Trust one another. Love one another. Listen to one another. Build one another up.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2020

May   22.  2020

Thought   for  today

"The problem is that books are so much easier to buy than to read.  I'm quickly running out of space on my bookshelf."

Siri Capenter 

May  21,  2020

ROOTS

We don’t see roots – but we sometimes

discover them in friends and in the “WHY”

some people do what they do – even when

we do dumb. Even when we ignore them –

they still love us – forgive us – stand by us.

They know trees. They know people. They

know themselves. They know you can’t cut

down a tree to discover how deep its roots are.

They just are. I am – in this forest called us.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2020

May   21,   2020

Thought for Today

“One  must  be able to cut a knot, for everything  cannot be untied.”

Henri Frederic Amiel

 

PRIESTS:

ARTICULATORS  

OF  THE  INVISIBLE

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Priests:  Articulators of the Invisible.”

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THEMES

The preacher goes from the known to the unknown – the visible to the invisible.

We see this clearly in today’s first reading from Acts 17 when Paul stands up and preaches on Mars Hill – the Areopagus – which is above and overlooking  Athens – with the Parthenon – the temple of Athena – THE GODDESS -  in sight – plus several other temples and statues of gods and goddesses – which are  also very visible. 

Paul  says that he sees that the people of Athens are very religious. He says he walked around and saw all kinds of statues and shrines – up here in this religious place - as well as down there in the agora – the market place.

Then he says, “I saw an altar inscribed,  ‘To an unknown God!’”

Then he tells them about this invisible God – this unknown God  - the creator of heaven and earth.

This God doesn’t need temples and shrines. Everything and everyplace is the holy place and  holy presence of God.

He tells them to look around. God is giving you life and breath and being.

He proclaims, “In him we live and move and have our being.”

So we don’t have to make all these gold and silver and stone statues.

We just have to go into the temple of ourselves.

The last line in today’s first reading is, “After this he left Athens and went to Corinth.”

PAUL FAILED IN ATHENS

As we know -  Paul failed in Athens.  There is no Letter to the Athenians – but there are 2 to the people of Corinth – where he went next.

When I read – when I hear – today’s first reading – I have a wonderful invisible memory – becoming visible in my brain.

It’s  2011 and I’m in Athens with some 30 people from Saint Mary’s Annapolis – in this very place – in today’s first reading – and I can feel the presence of Saint Paul in this very spot.

You’d have to be there to realize this human experience I had.

Yet, come to think about it – and this is the key point in this homily  – all of us have experienced people long gone in the places we enter.

I can picture and feel the presence of Ed Twomey is this pulpit I’m at right now. He preached here one evening – and then he went back to Brazil and shortly afterwards left us.

Walking through the spaces and places of San Alfonso – I’m sure all of us have  caught  the presence of people who have walked and entered these spaces.

Memories.

And right now this place is empty and we’re hoping for the Coronavirus 19 to disappear – so we can get back to normal.

So I’m saying – we’re all aware of the invisible – becoming visible in the here and now.

I look at the Styrofoam panels in this chapel and I can picture Father Bob Gaughler creating them down in the boiler room. I remember him saying, “Wow they take a lot of paint!”

So in walking through the whole area of the Areopagus in Athens  – I could feel the invisible presence of Paul  - as well as Socrates and Aristotle and Plato.

The next day – two of us got into  a bus – Maureen Eschbacher  and myself - and we headed for Corinth.  I

When we got there it wasn’t what I had been picturing –  especially when we went by a bungee jumping spot on the  bridge over the Corinthian canal.

Then we finally entered the ruins of Corinth. It was a bit further away from the water than I had figured – but we walked through the old ruins of the ancient city – and the invisible became very visible – and the two letters of Paul to the Corinthians became alive for me.

The title of my homily is, “Priests: Articulators of the Invisible.”

I don’t know who the invisible person – surely a Redemptorist – who taught me what to do when I entered a church where we were about to preach in.

That teacher  said,  “In  your homily talk about something everyone can see – in that church – or as a second resort – something in that area.”

Then go from the visible to the invisible.

So I mention names on vestments or on candle sticks or on the bottom of chalices. I mention characters in the stained-glass windows.

I mention during the preaching there the difference between a wedding ring in a jewelry store window and one that’s been on the ring finger of someone married in this church 53 years ago.

People move and have their being in memories and the mystery of where they have been in the past – when they walk where they have been before – in the present.

CONCLUSION

I think this theme of going from the visible to the invisible – is even more significant when reading the gospel of John: to mention light and  doors – water and wells – walls and upper rooms.

And then to bring people deeper into seeing and feeling and knowing God’s presence in the invisible all around us.

The priest is called to articulate all this – to tell folks it happens as today’s gospel from John puts it. Let me repeat today’s gospel:  “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.  But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth.  He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming. He will glorify me, because he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.  Everything that the Father has is mine; for this reason I told you that he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.” 

The Gospel of the Lord.

May  20,  2020

DINNER  FOR  SIX

One person was complaining –

no – not about the dinner – but

about a family situation that was ugly.

One person jumped in with a solution.

One person held back their solution.

The other three heard all this before.

The crab cakes were delicious for 4.

The complainer complained about the dessert.

The problem solver didn’t taste a thing.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2020