HAPPY THANKSGIVING 

VIRGINIA BEACH, 2007 

FOUR STORIES
ENTITLED, “STARTING AGAIN”

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Four Stories Entitled, 'Starting Again'”

Here are 4 stories – all with different characters. Your job is to bring these 4 stories to your religious education class today as well as to the dinner table and describe how each story is the same and how each story is different. For starters: each story has the same title.

FIRST STORY: STARTING AGAIN

It was their first day of vacation at Ocean City. The first thing Julia did as soon as her family got down to the beach was to start building a sand castle. Her brother and two sisters were in the water – almost immediately. The tide was out – so Julia picked a great spot to build her sand castle.

She had a hat on. She had sun blocker # 50 on. But she didn’t notice the water or the sun – all she could see was sand – and in her mind the image of the castle she was going to build.

Whenever people asked Julia – a third grader – what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would blurt out immediately: “Architect” and then she would spell it very deliberately: “A R C H I T E C T. I want to be an architect when I grow up.”

She had drawn her castle on paper at least 100 times in school since last summer.

One hour. Two hours. Three hours. Julia even skipped lunch as she worked on her castle – but her mom brought her down a sandwich and some orange juice. Mom, seeing Julia’s castle being built said, ”Nice going, Julia. Nice going.”

It was two o’clock in the afternoon when her dad arrived at the beach. He came in another car. He had some business to attend to before he could join the family for vacation. Dad’s always have to do these extra things.

As her father headed for the water, he too said, “Nice castle, Julia, nice castle.” Then dad was in the water with his three other kids – body surfing – enjoying the waves and the tide started to come in.

At 3 o’clock Julia had almost finished her castle, just as this gigantic wave came and knocked over her castle – almost totally destroying it in one “swash” – S W A S H – that’s a new word. Julia had her back to the water – so she didn’t see it coming.

She was totally shocked – surprised – squashed in spirit. Her whole castle was wiped away – and the waves kept coming in to shore.

Her father and the 3 others dove into that big wave – the swash wave. Her father immediately said to himself, “Well, that’s the end of Julia’s castle.” He headed to the shore and ran to Julia. She was angry – really angry – and she began kicking the water.

Her mother also heard the “swash”. She jumped up from the blanket and beach umbrella she was sitting under reading a novel. She had been enjoying the quiet – with her 4 kids and husband down in front of her.

Julia couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry.

Julia marched back to the family blanket – plopped down on her butt and sulked – her knees against her teeth.

That evening at supper Julia was quiet and ate hardly anything. In fact, Julia went to bed very, very early – not wanting to talk to anyone.

Her father sat there watching a movie on the TV with the kids as his wife continued to read her novel. Then Julia’s dad got up and went over to his wife and whispered something in her ear. Mom closed her book and went over to watch the TV movie with the 3 other kids. Dad went to the room where Julia was rooming with her two other sisters and asked her to get dressed. Julia, in her jammies, was very whinny. She didn’t get moving – after her dad asked her to get dressed. He went out to his wife, whispered something in her ear – I guess this is the way parents work together – and mom got up and went and told Julia to get dressed, “Daddy wants to take you somewhere together.”

Julia got dressed. The 4 in front of the TV set: mom, Sarah, Tommy, and Priscilla, saw dad and Julia heading for the front door. For some reason they said nothing. They heard the car start. It seemed strange – to see dad and Julia heading for the car and it was 8:45 at night.

Julia figured he was going to take her back to the beach and give one of those great lessons in life stories he was famous for. Nope. Not this time.

Dad drove Julia about 20 minutes and there it was: a White Castle Hamburger place. He parked and they went in. They each had 3 White Castle Hamburgers. They have small hamburgers. Dad listened as Julia finally cried and then laughed at her fallen castle – and 45 minutes later, dad and daughter, came home – Julia with a great smile on her face – and her brother and two sisters, wondered what happened and where they went. They were jealous.

The next day Julia was down the beach – this time in the water with her brother and two sisters and her dad – her mom back in her book – on the blanket - under the umbrella – enjoying the quiet with a thousand people all around her.

Three days later Julia started another sand castle – this time another 30 yards from the water – her dream of one day being an architect - A R C H I T E C T - was not washed away by that big swash wave from three days earlier.

SECOND STORY: STARTING AGAIN

For three months – every day after school and after homework, Timmy worked with his Legos building this incredible fortress in their basement. It was to be the most amazing Lego creation of all time.

Three months.

It was going to able to house him – and he could sit in there and peek out through its four turrets.

He had saved his money and had bought lots of old Legos from other kids in his class and then from other kids in the school – many of whom hadn’t played or used their Legos in years.

He had drawn the design of the fortress at least 100 times while he was in school.

Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to be an engineer. And when asked, “What are you going to be when you grow up, he would say and then spell out: E N G I N E E R.

He had an older brother, Theodore, who was in high school, and a younger brother, Travis, who was in the third grade.

His older brother, Theodore, loved to come down the basement to encourage his brother on the fortress he was building.

His younger brother, Travis – was jealous – with his brother getting all this attention – and thought the whole idea of building a Lego fortress in their cellar was ridiculous – besides it was taking up too much of Travis cellar playing space.

One evening when everyone was upstairs – Travis, the younger brother, went down the basement and using a lacrosse stick – banged the fortress and it made a good smacking sound.

Everyone upstairs heard the crash. “What was that?”

Everyone headed down the basement stairs and there was Travis amidst the mess – the fallen fortress.

Timmy was shocked. Travis said, “I came down here and all of a sudden the whole thing collapsed.” He had snook the lacrosse stick off in the corner.

Theodore, the older brother, and his mom and dad, immediately went over and hugged Timmy – knowing how he must be feeling.

Travis remained calm – feeling a secret glee – as well as fear he might be caught.

Mom and dad said, “Let’s go back upstairs. We’ll pick this all up on Saturday.”

Mom, Dad, Theodore, suspected Travis of the nasty deed – but said nothing. Timmy couldn’t sleep well that night.

The next day, at school, his older brother Theodore, got an idea. It was raining and there was supposed to be an outdoor football practice. He told the team about what had happened to his brother’s Lego fortress – and how it was all scatted on their basement floor.

One kid said, “Let’s go fix it.”

”What?” said Theodore.

“No,” someone else said. “Let’s all go and fix it. I haven’t played with Legos in years. You have food in your house right?”

So the whole team piled into their cars and headed for Theodore’s house. It took 2 hours and they did it. They had the whole fortress repaired. Then, after eating all the snacks they could find, they snook out of the house and headed to their homes.

Timmy and Travis and their mom – who drove them back and forth to school – had gone shopping after school. Theodore knew this.

Travis was the first to go down the basement. As he went down the stairs in the dark, he felt tremendous guilt for what he had done. He wished he hadn’t knocked the fortress down. He turned the lights on. Surprise. A miracle. He ran upstairs and screamed, “Timmy your fortress is fixed. It’s all back together again. It’s a miracle.”

Everyone piled down the stairs – including mom – including Theodore – who said nothing. Wow were they surprised.

And Travis stood off to the side – shocked, less jealous – not knowing what he was thinking and feeling – wondering if God was giving him a message.

THIRD STORY: STARTING AGAIN

The third story is in today’s bulletin. It’s in our pastor, Father Jack Kingsbury’s letter, for November 18, 2007.

Two years ago two churches in Biloxi, Mississippi, M I S S I S S I P P I, along with a lot of other churches and homes and buildings, were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.

The names of the two churches were Our Lady of Sorrows and Blessed Francis Seelos Catholic Churches. Since they were Redemptorist churches, people in this parish donated money and a whole truck full of supplies and drove to Biloxi.

Well, recently, Father Steven Wilson, a Redemptorist, the pastor, sent a letter of thanks to Father Jack and the people of this parish saying the churches have been rebuilt and there is a special plaque with St. Mary’s, Annapolis name on it – in thanksgiving for helping in the rebuilding.

FOURTH STORY: STARTING AGAIN

The fourth story is from today’s gospel and the whole New Testament.

Jesus went around rounding up people to start something new. Some followed him. Some didn’t. He had a dream of how people should be. He was an architect A R C H I T E C T of a kingdom.

Peter, Andrew, James, John, Martha, Mary, and lots of other people joined his dream. They were to be the building blocks of this new vision – this holy church – not built on sand, but built on rock.

Well, some people got jealous of Jesus and had him arrested and killed.

Three days later Jesus rose from the dead. He was alive in a new way.

His disciples then remembered something he had said in Jerusalem – when he asked them to look at the temple – and see how beautiful it is. Jesus then said, “One of these days, this will all come tumbling down.”

At that time they thought he meant the temple - the building. Later on, especially after the temple came tumbling down, they realized he was talking about the building - but about himself as well as his disciples – that we are all called to be the different stones that make up the new temple – and wherever we go, there the kingdom of God rises – wherever we go, we are called to be architects - A R C H I T E C T S - of God’s church. Amen.

PSYCHIATRIST AND PRIEST

Her story was pockmarked with tears and fears,
pauses and becauses – lots of becauses,
some making me nervous. I never know what
to say. Listening is much easier.
Without knowing it, my fingernails
were scraping the accumulated dark sweat dirt
of the underneath of the wooden armrest
of the chair I was sitting on –
a chair that so many others have also sat in.
Once a month, as I listened to her story
on these Friday afternoons,
we slowly discovered the bottom of the why
she had come to see me in the first place.
She was a book and by the 10th chapter,
the 10th time I listened to her,
I got glimpses of my own story
and so many other’s stories in her story.
But there was one story, one chapter, missing.
This was the empty moment –
the coming to the edge of the cliff moment –
the “Okay, what’s next?” moment.
I am not a psychiatrist. I am a priest,
so Easter is the message of all this sitting
in this tiny talking room.
If she wanted to hear Good News,
she had to realize she couldn’t stop at Friday,
at the cross. None of 4 gospels end
at Calvary - the place of the skull.
There’s always the Easter Sunday Morning Moment
when she had to walk to the place of the cave,
the tomb, and meet the Gardener. (Cf. John 21)
She rose in awe, now having a glimpse
of what she had to do, whom she had to meet,
– and it was only then
that I felt the underneath of the armrest.
I had accidentally scraped a cross there
as I sat with her all these Friday afternoons.
I too needed to experience Easter.
I too needed an Upper Room experience.
Healing only happens when Christ
comes through the thick walls
of our fears, of our thick skull,
our upper room, and says,
“Shalom! Peace be with you!”

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

NOVEMBER LEAVES

November leaves –
beautiful before their fall,
then down on the ground
like the dead
in so many silent cemeteries.
They had their time –
buds, blossoms, steady solid
green and then
their final splash of color –
death –
the November leaves
finally coming to their rest
in bushes, in corners,
some raked into piles,
then cremated, sending
sweet incense into the steel blue sky,
but most stuck somewhere
for the winter, as November
turns into December – and snow,
then the long cold time till spring,
resurrection.
It’s good to stop to see the leaves.
It’s good to have November
a time to remember those
who have fallen before us.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

THE SUN

The little girl kept reaching out
trying to grab the ball of sun,
but she couldn’t reach it and
nobody would bounce it to her.

In fact, it had disappeared
when she went to the window
after supper to look at it once again.

She began to cry,
fisting her hands into her eyes
and when she looked again,
it still wasn’t there
and all her life
she thought she had done it.

© Andy Costello, Poems, 2007

PROPER BURIAL

She was out picking berries –
her leather satchel had
the hardened remains.
The anthropologists figured
it was a land slide and she
was buried down deep
under dirt and rock
what figures like 1400 years ago -
way up there
in the cold north country.
What did her family go through
when she didn’t return – when
she totally disappeared?
Now, she can be seen
even if it’s behind glass
in a proper tomb in a museum.
Visitors stand there
for a few moments reading
the laminated words
about her discovery
in a mining excavation.
No tears. No pain. No funeral.
At least now we know what
happened to one of our family
that day a long time ago.
Who else is out there?
Who else is missing?
How long does it take
to discover, to dig up,
to uncover another’s story,
another's disappearance
from our life?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2007

OLD PORCH CHAIR

The paint is peeling
off the old porch chair.
I guess choosing to sit
out here all the time
it never gets a chance
to see all those new
long lasting paints
they advertise on T.V.

© Andy Costello, Poems 2007