July 25, 2023
Reflection
Tuesday, July 25, 2023
Monday, July 24, 2023
Sunday, July 23, 2023
July 23, 2023
Homily for the 16 Sunday in Ordinary Time
JUST
ONE THING
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily is, “Just One Thing.”
REPEAT AFTER ME: “Just One Thing.”
The theme of our retreat is story – story telling – getting
in touch with the story of our life – other’s story – and God’s story.
Story.
QUESTION
Question: Name one thing you own that triggers your story –
who you are – where you’ve been – what you’ve done and plan to do.
Just one thing.
Imagine if God said, “I’m bored. I’ve heard all the stories
of all the people.” Then God said to all the people of heaven, “You can go back
to earth to find one thing – just one thing – that sums you up. What would you
go back to earth to try to find?” What would you bring back?
Wouldn’t that be a great scene? Where would they put all
that stuff?
So if you could take one thing with you, what would you
take?
I know the old saying, “You can’t take it with you.”
There are no U-Haul trucks or trailers following your
hearse.
Yet people put things in caskets all the time. My mom and
my dad, each have a deck of cards in their caskets. They loved to play cards – pinochle
– together.
So that’s my homily thought for today. That’s your
homework. Name just one thing that is precious to you. It’s something you would
not want to lose. One thing that you are holding onto – one thing you’d like to
take with you.
Just one thing. Does everyone have at least one thing that
is sacred – one thing in a tabernacle in their room.
MOSES
Looking at the story of Moses in this week’s first readings
from early Exodus, I was wondering if there was one thing Moses would be
holding onto.
Every time he left his house did Moses look up and tap the
basket that was on the shelf above the front door. Did he say to his God, ”Thank
You for the gift of life.”
That basket saved him. It saved his life. It was the basket
his mother put him in and sailed him across the waters to Pharaoh’s daughter.
Or would he have a branch he snapped off from the burning
bush – when he had his God experience – when he found out who God was, “I am
who I am – I am – that’s my name.”
It’s the same as each of us. I am who I am. We want God and
others to be different than who they are – but they are who they are. Like us.
I am who I am. [Cf. Exodus 3:13-20]
What would be the one thing Moses would pick to represent
himself?
JESUS – WOODEN YOKE
When Jesus died on the cross he had nothing. He was naked
as he hung there with nothing in his hands but iron – the iron of the nails –
blood and pain.
That’s how he died – with nothing – with his mother down
below with pain as well.
If Jesus could pick one thing to sum him up, what would it
be?
Remember Jesus’ death on the cross. He had nothing. So if
he could go back what would he pick.
Would it be a wooden yoke that Joseph made – to make life
easier for animals – because he saw how tough life was for them?
Was it a wooden yoke that Joseph made to make work easier
for people who had to bring water from the village well?
What would it be for Jesus?
DADDY – ROSE PETAL
When I was a little kid I’m in our living room. We had
there a big book case with this collection of brown – light brown – not tan. It
was a collection my dad got somewhere of the great books of literature. My dad
loved books. He loved to read. His house in Ireland was nickname, “The House
with the Books.”
I open up one book, The Best Loved Poems of the English Language.
I came to a page – that had a poem – and something else. Surprise. I had never
anything in my life like this before. I put my two thumbs on that page and walk
over to my father.
It was like an offertory procession.
I say to my dad, “What’s this?”
He puts down his newspaper and says, “What’s what?”
It was a dry – dead – fragile – dark red – rose petal.
I wish I knew what that poem on that page was to this day.
He paused as he looked at the rose petal.
Paused.
Then a smile came on his face and he said one word,
“Memories.”
I was learning – seeing – one of life’s great lessons –
that people save souvenirs – mementos – of their memories.
MOM – JACK LAFFEY’S ROSARY
My mom is walking down 62nd Street – to our
house.
A young man follows down behind her and starts running
towards her. He grabs the handle of her pocket book – to steal it.
My mom holds onto it as she hits the sidewalk and the guy
is tugging at the pocket book and neither will let go. She’s dragged a bit on
the cement street.
Someone spots the scene and yells, “Stop!”
The young man lets go and runs down the street.
My mom was a bit cut up and she heard our question, “Why
didn’t you just let go?”
She said, “I know! It’s just a pocketbook.”
Then she said, “But I had the rosary in there that Jack
Laffey brought me from Ireland. Connemara marble. I didn’t want to lose it. It
reminded me of Ireland – where I came from.”
BILLY’S JACKETS
After my brother Billy died of cancer at 51, my
sister-in-law Joanne gave me two of brother’s jackets. One was a nifty tweed
jacket and the other was a zippered red and blue sports jacket. I love to wear
that red and blue sports jacket – especially every Thanksgiving when I see 6 of
my brother’s 7 daughters. I look a bit ike my borther and seeing me in that
Jacker brings back memories of their dad.
NEAT PEOPLE
I hate neat people.
Father Gene Grohe lived here the last few years. He was neat – sick neat. I used to live with
him for 8 years at our old seminary. I’d see something in the paper and say to
myself, “I’ll get that section of the paper in the morning.”
Well he got up at 5 AM and have the papers in the garbage
by 6 AM.
I hate neat people.
I save stuff – lots of stuff – and neat people like Ed
Faliskie – are always on my case to get rid of my stuff.
We’ve both been changed – so he is saying, “Here’s my
chance to get rid of stuff.”
He walks into my room the other day. He sees an old Styrofoam
cup on my bureau. He picks it up and
says, “What’s this? Why are you saving this?”
It’s broken. It’s crumbled. And has coffee stains on it.
I take it back and say, “This …. This is precious. I’m
keeping this for life.”
Then I say, “Let me tell you the story of this cup?”
“We’re finishing up a parish mission in Pomeroy, Ohio. Tom
Barret and I. It’s Thursday night and we’re eating cookies and having coffee,
tea, or soda – with a group of people who made the mission.”
“I’m talking to this lady in the church hall and she tells
me a story she heard about a girl in her
first year at a community college in northern West Virginia – just across the
river from here.”
She tells me this girl is flunking every subject. The dean calls
her into his office and asks her, “What are you doing here? Why did you come to
this college?”
The girl says, “I came here to be went with and I ain’t
been went with yet.”
I said, “Can you repeat that?”
“The girl said, “I came here to be went with and I ain’t
been went with yet.”
I said, “I gotta write that down.”
I reached in my pocket for a piece of paper. I found
none. So I emptied out the Styrofoam cup.
I flattened it out.
I reached for my ballpoint pen and wrote on the Styrofoam
cup: “I came here to be went with and I ain’t been went with yet.”
Did you ever try to write on a Styrofoam cup with a ballpoint
pen?
For over 25 years I’ve had that cup. I sums up in one
sentence the goal of life for millions of people: “I came here to be went with.”
CONCLUSION
I had there just one thing that sums up the meaning of life
for millions and millions of people.
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