HOW DO YOU
PICTURE

CHRIST?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “How Do You Picture Christ?”

I thought that would be a good theme to think about for this Sunday’s feast: Christ the King – this last Sunday in the Church year. Then we will start Advent on the following Sunday – December 1st - as we move toward Christmas – with Christ being featured as a baby.

ONE PICTURE

If you had to pick one picture of Christ that says a lot to you, what image of Christ would you choose?

What are the choices?

Christ on the Cross? Christ the Good Shepherd? The Risen Christ? The Christ Child? Christ in the Garden? Christ in the Sky? Christ of the Banquet – feeding us with the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation? The Peacemaker? The Prophet? The Suffering Servant?

After the last two Masses people gave me some of their choices. One lady said, “I like to picture Christ in the desert – in deep prayer.”

How do you picture Christ?

People have pictures of their spouse, their children, their family, their friends, in their wallets – and now on their computers and cell phones, etc. Does anyone have a picture of Christ in their wallet? What’s in your wallet?

TITLES OF CHRIST

Christ has many titles: the Lord, the Savior, the King, the Redeemer, the Friend, the Risen One.

Today’s title is: Christ the King.

Why not Emperor? Why not Leader? Why not President? Why not Boss? Why not Center? Why not Heart? Why not Meaning? As in Christ is the center, the heart, the meaning of my life. As in: “Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life."

TODAY’S SECOND READING

Today’s second reading, I think, is the best of today’s three readings for this feast of Christ the King. After yesterday’s 4:30 Mass a lady asked me if the gospel was the correct reading. She said, “Isn’t that a reading we hear in Holy Week?”

I said, “Yes, but they were trying to come up with readings to fit the theme of Christ the King – and today’s gospel talks about Jesus on the cross as king.

Today’s second reading has what scholars think is an early Christian hymn that Paul brought into his letter. Listen again. For us who follow Christ:

He is the image of the invisible God,
the firstborn of all creation.
For in him all things in heaven and on earth were created,
the visible and the invisible….
He is before all things
and in him all things hold together.
He is the head of the body, the church.
He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead,
that in all things he himself might be preeminent.
For in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell,
and through him to reconcile all things for him,
making peace by the blood of the cross
through him, whether those on earth or those in heaven.
To me that is a wonderful poetic vision of who Christ is for those who have made Christ the meaning, the center, the foundation of their life.

THE FEAST OF CHRIST THE KING

This feast of Christ the King was established in 1925 with Pope Pius XI’s encyclical on Christ the King (Quas primas). So it’s a rather recent feast – but it can be traced back to Cyril of Alexandria (c. 378 - 444) – as well as the New Testament. Pope Pius XI saw what so many of our modern popes, and parents, and people have seen: people dropping Christ out of their life – and going the rest of the way without a religious center – or focus – or foundation for their life.

Peter Berger, the sociologist, in a lecture, mentioned a French sociologist, Gabriel LeBras, “the father of religious sociology". LeBras used the image of a magical train station in Paris. People would leave the farm and the countryside of Normandy, the most Catholic section of France, and take a train to the big city. When they got off the train , they left their past behind – especially their Catholic faith.

Today, for many, it’s college – or high school – or what have you. Through the years, I’ve heard the one thing the bishops of the United States could not agree on is a standard age for confirmation – because this might be the last time we see these kids till they are married or for the baptism of their kids – or the death of their parents.

Peter Berger says that the statistics and some studies don’t “prove” that “so many modern people have lost their religion”.

Yet what title, what image, what picture do we present, when we want to proclaim Christ to our world – to each other?

Whether “King” is the best word or image for Christ – some word and some image has to be chosen. What word and what image do you use to describe Christ?

And how do you picture Christ?

WASHINGTON D.C.

In 1959 I visited Washington DC – and I went with my brother to the National Shrine – the big basilica - of the Immaculate Conception on Michigan Avenue.

He had met and married my sister-in-law, Joanne, who grew up on Michigan Avenue.

We walked in and we walked around. When I looked up, I was floored by the gigantic red powerful image of Christ in Majesty up front – in the center – above everything. Christ did not look wimpy or weak or washed out. He was up front and central. [It's the top picture of the four pictures at the beginning of this homily.]

It’s said to be one of the largest ikons of Christ in the world. It has 3 million tiny tiles – taking up some 3,600 square feet. [Check out the web site: National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Washington, D.C.]
It was a “Wow” moment for me.

Looking back it was to be a religious experience for me – because it had an impact on my thinking about Christ in my life.

Has that ever happened to you when walking into a church, or cathedral, or mosque of temple?

That’s the purpose of religious art – to overwhelm, to speak out, to scream out to us – to proclaim God!

At St. John Neumann’s Church, our other church here in Annapolis, we have that gigantic cross of Jesus. I’m sure it’s like the proverbial saying about priests and pastors: 1/3 like you, 1/3 don’t like you, 1/3 don’t care. What does that image of Christ say to you?

I’m sure it says a lot more to people who are there for a funeral – than those who are here for a wedding.

We Redemptorists were founded by St. Alphonsus – who wrote and meditated and preached deeply on the cross – Christ the Redeemer hanging on a cross – and dying there for our redemption.

What image of Christ would you put up front and center of the church building of your dreams?

This is the last week with the 2007 missalettes. They print millions and millions of these – and they are with us for a year. Some parishes like ours cover them so you don't see the picture; some parishes cover them with see through covers; some parishes have no cover at all.

I don’t know if this image of Christ is a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3. I’d be in the 1/3 that doesn’t like it. It doesn’t grab me. It doesn’t give me a “wow”. I say that nervously, in case the artist is in this church – or someone here is related to the artist. Hey, you never know. But this image grabbed someone – or the team that worked this out – this picture of Christ at the Last Supper. Next year’s picture is similar – but I like it better because it doesn’t show any people – just the bread and the wine and the food on the table of the Last Supper. I think this type of art work goes better without drawings of people. I’m giving my taste and opinion here – and like most art: like and dislike is in the eye of the beholder.

Why not put on the cover the powerful Red Christ, the Pantocrator in the National Catholic Cathedral in Washington DC – or the many powerful Eastern Orthodox images of Jesus? [Check out the 4th picture of Christ at the beginning of this homily.] I have to admit, ever since I saw the image of Christ in the National Shrine in 1959, I’ve been biased towards that kind of an image for the up front and center image for a church or a missalette. Or why not a picture of a great stained glass window? Why not a strong image of Christ on the cross? I remember watching a TV documentary on where Pope John Paul II came from in Poland. There was a scene from a cemetery where the camera scanned some strong and dramatic crucifixes. Compared to other crosses showing the suffering Christ, those Polish green and stained bronze images of Christ were a lot more poignant and powerful than a lot of those tan all the same wooden or plastic crosses of Christ.

I like the image of the laughing Christ – but that is not my central image of Christ – but I do hear Christ laughing at me at times. How about you? Do you ever have a good laugh with Christ?

I took a mini-course on religious art somewhere along the line. I don’t remember much – other than the teacher saying there are tons of junky religious art out there – and from then on in – I was able to say at least to myself, “Junk!” “Junk!” “Junk!” as I looked at religious pictures or statues or walked into religious places.

There are many rich images of Christ to choose from. Check out the masters. Type into Google names like El Greco, Tiepolo, Tintoretto, Caravaggio. If all else fails, pick Rembrandt. [It is the second of four images of Christ in the beginning of this homily.]

On my wall in my room I have two images of Christ: a Greek Icon of Christ from Spain – that my niece Claire and her husband Christian gave me as a gift for doing their wedding. It’s a very serious Christ and I look to him in prayer as I begin working on a sermon. “A sermon is a serious moment!” I have a wooden crucifix that Father John Harrison gave me after my good friend Pasquale Tremonte died over in Seaford, Delaware, two years ago. They were stationed together there. Pasquale was a great character and was forever forgetting things as well as being clumsy – and this Christ is hanging there without arms. I’ve meditated on that a lot - while wondering, "What happened?" My sister Mary paints and likes paintings, so a few months ago I gave her a third painting I had on my wall for years. It’s a dark blue image of Christ walking down a road carrying a cross and calling people on the side of the road to follow him. They are dressed as clowns. It was hanging in a bar and drug and hippie place in Long Branch NJ and a guy I helped with his addictions bought it off the wall and gave it to me as a gift for helping him. [It's the third of the four images of Christ I have in the beginning of this homily.]

How do you picture Christ?

CHRIST THE KING

As we all know, Christ as King is a great paradox. He was a king who got a crown of thorns and had a cross for his throne. He was a king who washed feet and rode a donkey into town. He was a king who said, “My kingdom is not of this world – but what I want to do in this world is to serve. I have no army – but I do have all those who want to follow me – and if you want to follow me – you have to die to yourself – and discover life is not about ego or power of self – but about children and the poor and the not noticed.”

As we all know, Christ the King is the model for moms and dads, popes and priests, politicians and mayors, for all those who serve others. The message is: put those we serve first. That’s what it’s all about.

CONCLUSION
So this feast is a good theme to think about, as we come to the end of the Church Year. To sum things up: “This feast is a good feast to think about as we are about to begin a new Church Year." The question or questions I’m asking in this homily has been: how do you picture Christ, how do see Christ, how does Christ fit into your life?

To continue the dialogue, please put on your schedule, your calendar, the Parish Mission which starts here next Sunday – as a way to deeper one’s relationship with Christ. With our busy schedules, make one evening, two evenings, three evenings, all the evenings – and / or the morning sessions of the parish mission. Avoid the Christmas rush. Slow down and hide in this sacred place.

What’s great is that there is a mission going on for our Hispanic parishioners at this time as well a high school retreat for our juniors that week as well – up in New Jersey. Great! We Redemptorists were started with the purpose to preach missions and retreats – 275 years ago this year.

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