THE PUZZLE CALLED “GOD.”

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Puzzle Called ‘God’”.

There are 6 billion plus people on this planet – and there have been billions of people who have gone before us – and we assume there will be billions more to come.

Am I am just one piece of the puzzle?

Am I just one piece of the picture of God?

TIME OUT

Some times we take time out to try to understand this puzzle called “life” – this puzzle called “me” – this puzzle called “God”.

It could be while we are on vacation – and we’re taking an early morning stroll – an early morning all alone moment – walking along on the beach – and we look down and see all that sand – millions and billions of tiny different colored grains of sand – or we see a sand castle someone made the day before – half crumbled, half washed out – or we look out at the wide ocean – and we stop to watch wave after wave after wave of water coming in – and it’s been doing this for billions of years – steady, steady, steady, sometimes calm, sometimes crashing. Why, why, why?

What’s the answer to the “Why?” for all this?

I ponder. I wonder. I try to figure out the puzzle.

I pray.

Sometimes all I hear is silence – in this conversation with God questions, this conversation called, “Prayer.”

But there have been moments – like those vacation moments on morning beaches or night moments when I look and scan the skies and see those billions and billions of stars up there. Yes, sometimes I get answers – wow have I had answers – not enough, but I’ve had answers, and I guess that’s why I keep coming back to pray – that’s why I keep coming back to church.

I sit back in the church bench, or the beach chair – or the porch chair late at night – after all have gone to bed. Sometimes I know God is near. Sometimes I feel God is here.

CALLED TO CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN

As I sit back from time to time, I remember a moment I had a long time ago. I don’t know if it was a dream – or what it was. But I heard God call me to climb a mountain. I was like Moses – being called by God to climb up a mountain – as we heard in today’s first reading.

I climbed and climbed and climbed. Finally, I heard God telling me to stop and look down to the valley below. I see this gigantic box. The lid is off. I look into the box and I see billions and billions of pieces of the jigsaw puzzle called “God”. I look outside the box and see billions and billions of people in the valley outside the box. Some are fitting together. Some are not.

I’m puzzled. What is the meaning of what I’m looking at?

Is it this: The history and mystery of life is the putting together of this great puzzle called, “God”?

Is God telling each of us that each piece is part of the picture called “God”?

And just as the cardboard pieces of a jigsaw puzzle – showing a beautiful mountain scene or a picture of sailboats in a bay are not the mountain scene or the sailboats in the bay – so too we are not God. We know we are not God. We know that all too well.

And we know people can hurt people and be so unGodlike – and we know we have hurt people.
Yet we know that people can be like God. We’ve met so many people who have been so generous, so loving, so giving, so amazing.

As scripture tells us, “We are made in the image and likeness of God” [Genesis 1:27]

I continue to wonder about the time I was called to climb the mountain and look down and see that open puzzle box. Is the message this: every time we mirror God, every time we image God, we help others catch a glimpse of God?

Is that it? Is that the message of life? Is that the purpose of life? Is it to mirror God?

Is the message: every person is necessary to complete the puzzle – whether our name is one of the names mentioned in today’s gospel, Peter or Andrew, or James, or whether we’re one of the unnamed people mentioned in today’s gospel, the sick or the lost? Are we all necessary pieces of this puzzle called, “God”?

I remember standing there on the mountain looking down – and I said, “Aha. That’s the meaning of it all. I’m having an ‘Aha!’ moment.”

I remember sitting down on a rock – up there on the mountain – scratching my head – pondering, wondering, do I have it right? Is that the meaning of that mountain vision I had a long time ago?

What was God trying to tell me that day when I had that strange – surrealistic experience?

From time to time, I sit back and ask God over and over again, “Why did You call me up that mountain and show me that gigantic half empty, half full box of people down below in the valley?”

FATHER’S DAY

It’s Father’s day – we think of our dads – how he was so like God – providing for us – teaching us quiet love – teaching us giving love – teaching us so much – with so few words.

We think of Tim Russert – figuring every preacher in the United States will probably mention him today – and his relationship to his dad – as well as his family dealing with his death – his wife, Maureen, and his one son, Luke, and his three sisters – and his dad – all still living.

Yes, we think to ourselves. Every time a father gives, protects, loves, leads, shepherds, he is telling us what God is like.

No wonder Jesus often talked about God as Father.

MOTHERS

We think of our moms – all they do and did for us. No wonder Jesus used that image for God as well – not as much as Our Father – but we laugh, women have the last laugh – because the Church has ever since put Mary his mother on a pedestal – telling us how to love one another as she loved.

OURSELVES

We become quiet. We have learned that prayer is quiet much more than words. We remember sitting up there on that rock – on that mountain – looking down at that that big box in that valley below.

We see groups of people paring off – not willing to be part of the task of putting the puzzle together. We see individuals and groups fighting with each other. We see people ignoring each other. We see some people still stuck in that box.

From a distance – from high up that mountain – we see the craziness of it all.

We see Christ walking through the valley trying to bring the pieces of the puzzle together.

We realize the meaning of the opening words of today’s gospel, “At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.”

We see Jesus calling people pieces of the puzzle to join him as he says, “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.”

We see so many having eyes that don’t see him, ears that don’t hear him, feet that don’t follow him.

We think back to a moment during a summer vacation – when we were with a whole collection of cousins and aunts and uncles at the beach, and we found a jigsaw puzzle – 2,500 pieces – and we went around trying to round up volunteers to work on the puzzle and nobody wanted to join us.

We look down from the mountain and see Jesus or his disciples being rejected down there. Nobody seems to want to work together to put the puzzle together.

Sitting there on the mountain seeing all this – seeing that gigantic puzzle down there, I say to God, “Do I have it right? Is that the meaning of what I’m seeing?”

And all I hear are the closing words of today’s gospel, “Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”

Frustrated, I blurt out to Jesus, “Every time I want a clear answer, you give me silence or these word puzzles. I want more of an answer than that.”

But that’s the only answer I get at that moment.

I become quiet – pondering, wondering – trying to figure out these puzzling words.

Is this the meaning? Is life all gift? And then we give the gift of our life to others. Is that it: that we too have to say what Jesus said, “This is my body. This is my blood. I’m giving my life to you. Take and eat. Take and drink. Eat me up.”

We think for a moment. We pinch ourselves. “Yes, I have been gifted with the gift of life? Thank you mom and thank you dad. Thank you God.”

We continue, “But, God, why me? Why was I created? Why am I alive? Why do some people only have a few moments of life and others have years? Why do some people have 21 years and 2 months and die in a car crash or in a bomb exploding and another lives to 58 years and another makes it to 88?”

CONCLUSION

What is the meaning of life? It’s all so puzzling?

We laugh. Is that the answer? Life is a puzzle – and that I am a piece of the puzzle?

Then I realize it’s time to come down from the mountain and go back down to the valley. I am out of the box.

But now, because of my mountain experience, I have an answer. I am to be like God. I am to go around and try to fit together with others and slowly we’ll put together this jigsaw puzzle called “God”.

SHAKY
MARRIAGE

It takes
two
to triangle.

Paradoxical sayings # 1

GRADUATION

Graduation,
and congratulations,
hats or caps tossed
high into the sky
with great abandon.
Who knows where
we’ll all land?

Ten, twenty-five,
fifty years from now,
some of us will be
back to tell our stories –
where we landed,
whom we loved,
and what happened?

There will be laughter,
hugs, and total surprises.
Who’s that over there?
You’re kidding.
Then stunned silence
when we hear about
this one and that one
buried far, far, from where
their cap landed that day.

© Andy Costello

Reflections, 2008

Picture on top thanks

to Jennifer Dieux

and St . Mary's Annapolis

Web Site

SAINT AND SINNER *

[I found today’s readings tricky – wondering last night where to go with a sermon? I knew the church would be hot – so I better not go too long. Then it hit me, “Why not write a story** to try to pull together today’s readings?” So here it is, “Saint and Sinner.”]

St. Rita’s needed a new pastor. The well-loved, long time pastor was retiring. St. Rita’s wasn’t the largest parish in the diocese; nor was it the smallest. The powers that be knew it needed more than one priest – but it didn’t need two priests – at least that was the diagnosis – especially because the priest pool in the diocese was rather thin. What to do?

“Why don’t we move Father Joe Riley from Black Lake?”

“No,” said the bishop. “He could do it. He’s a dynamo – but he’s doing such a great job at Black Lake – and he’s really just getting started there.”

Silence.

There was a lot of finger tapping and chin rubbing at the big table as the clock ticked, ticked, ticked in the diocesan planning room.

“How about putting together three older guys as a team? I heard that has worked in some dioceses, that is, if you can put the right three guys together.”

“No way!”

“Wait a minute. Whom would you suggest?”

“I would think that Bartelli, Manucci and Balboa would work together fine.”

“Are you crazy?” one of the priests at the table said. “They have been great friends all through the years. Why would you want to ruin their friendship and the vacations they always take together – by having them work together?”

“Well, I just thought that the people of Mountainview would love them. They are good guys. They’re close to retirement – and I think they would do good work there – as well as enjoy life together. Why not think outside the box?”

“No way,” said Father Mike Minnelli – three Italians in a mostly Irish parish. Are you crazy?”

“Wait a minute,” said Father Tom Nelson. “Why not put an old guy who’s semi-retired, with a young guy who could use some of an old guy’s experience?”

“But who?” said the bishop.

Silence.

“How about Matt Tobin and that young priest, Father William French?”

Silence. A lot of silence.

“Let’s take a break. Let’s think about it, and let’s come back in fifteen minutes.”

The diocesan team who make these diocesan decisions took their break and mulled over possibilities. Three guys went walking and did a bit of talking. Two guys dropped into the church and said another prayer to the Holy Spirit that they make good decisions for the people of their diocese.

They were back to work in 30 minutes. 15 minute breaks always take 30 minutes at least.

They made their decision. “Why not? Why not give the young guy, Father William French, ordained 3 years – his first pastor’s job – and give him Matt Tobin – ordained 22 years as his assistant?”

Two members of the committee were skeptical – especially when they made a comment or two about Matt’s health. The other 8 members said, “You have to work with what you have.” The bishop said, “Let me give both of them a call and see if they would be open to being at St. Rita’s in Mountainview.”

Both were called and both said, “Yes” – neither knowing each other.

Father William French called Father Matt Tobin that afternoon to ask him if he thought this would work.

Matt had been through a lot. He had seen lots of priests – young, old and in between – in his 22 years as a priest.

He said to Father William French, “Congratulations. It will be an honor to work with you in your first time as pastor. You’ll do fine. And by the way, I better check this out with you before anything else. Would it be a problem with you, if I brought my dog?”

Father French said, “That’s funny. I was just going to ask you the same question. Would it be all right if I brought my dog?”

They both laughed.

They both showed up on August 1st with their stuff and with their dogs. The people in the parish were nervous – wondering what these two priests would be like.

The first piece of news that spread through the parish was: “These two priests are as different as night and day. Father French wears French cuffs and is always in his black suit. Father Tobin is all t-shirt. And you’re going to love this. One has a Rottweiller named 'Saint' and the other has a terrier named 'Sinner'. Now what are the odds for that to happen?”

It worked. The team of Fathers French and Tobin worked well for 8 long years together. It took time for the people of Mountainview to get used to their two new priests – but in time – complaints and comments – suggestions and snipes – all but disappeared.

Silence.

That Saturday morning – St. Rita’s Church was filled. In fact, they had to set up extra speakers

and TV monitors in the hall for the overflow crowd from the church. It was the funeral Mass for Father Matt Tobin. He died suddenly last Tuesday while visiting a nursing home with his boots on – yes boots – and everyone was there at the funeral – including his dog, “Saint” – sitting in his regular place – in front of the pulpit – next to his buddy, “Sinner” the terrier.

And Father Bill French - yes, his name switched from William to Bill in about a year’s time – along with the disappearance of the French cuffs – and black suit jacket – except for funerals, weddings and formal occasions. Most of the time it was his blue St. Rita’s jacket – a gift the parish had given to both he and Father Matt their first Christmas there.

Father French stood there in the pulpit – with the bishop and personnel board – and about 40 other priests – sitting there in the front benches wondering what kind of a preacher he was – and what he would say about Father Matt Tobin – so, so different from him.

Father Bill began. “Eight years ago – when Matt and I were put together as an experiment – I wondered – I really wondered if this would work out. We were as different as our dogs – a Rottweiller and a Terrier – Saint and Sinner – sitting here in front of the pulpit this morning."

Silence! The parish was used to these dogs sometimes attending Mass; sometimes not. The bishop and the priests were somewhat taken back.

The Bishop wondered to himself, “Was there a Canon Law or a diocesan regulation somewhere that priests could not have their dogs in the sanctuary at Mass?”

Father Bill continued:

“Matt taught me not only how to be a priest; he taught me how to be a human being.

“I was too stiff, too formal, too stuck on my self. I was wine; Matt was Budweiser. I was upper crust; Matt was crumb. That’s not my description. That was Matt’s of us.

“For today’s gospel, I chose the call of Matthew from his Gospel – not just because of Father Matt – but because he often told me in our many late night chats together – that he loved St. Matthew – because before he became a priest, he too was a sinner like St. Matthew. You all know he didn’t enter the priesthood till after his 12 years in the army – two tours in Vietnam – his 4 years of floundering after that - his ‘tour of sins’ as he called them, his mistakes –– till he finally realized Jesus calls sinners and eats with them.

“He brought all his experiences – sins and talents - with him into the priesthood, so that everyone felt at home with him.

“That first year, I felt so inferior to him – till he helped me and so many people in this parish who took ourselves too seriously to relax and become at home with ourselves. And he taught us this without saying a word.”

The whole church exploded with “Amen’s” at that. The bishop and priests up front – were completely surprised – not knowing whether to laugh or what. They didn’t have the St. Rita Experience – where each Sunday liturgy was better or different than the week before. The unspoken slogan, the unwritten mission statement for the parish was, “If these two guys, and these two dogs, can be so friendly, we all can be friendly with each other.”

Father Bill went on:

“I was opera; he was country western. But guess what, he went with me at least once a year to the opera and I went with him to a country western concert once - only once?

“I was 'Rush!'; he was 'Slow down!'

“I was main highways; he was back roads.

“I was into climbing the ladder of success; he taught me there are no ladders when it comes to love.

“He taught me the meaning of the Jesus’ words in the Gospel of Matthew – words that Jesus stole from the Prophet Hosea, “It is mercy and love that I desire, not sacrifice.” Till I met Matt those were just words. I saw him make those words real – with his seeing people as people. We’re all sinners – all needy, all needing and wanting and hungry for a place at God’s table. I was a Pharisee without knowing how taxing I could be to others. I was sacrificing my life for the Church without knowing my face and my attitude was lacking the message: we’re all here because we need to love and be loved and understand and accept each other.

“Matt taught me that Jesus laughed. He was fond of saying, ‘You’ll never find it written in the scriptures that Jesus laughed – but every time we learn to laugh at ourselves, listen, and you’ll hear Jesus laughing along with you.’"

Silence.

“Matt told me I preach too long, so I better end right now. Can’t you hear him going, ‘Hm, hm,’ in the casket there?

“I want to thank God for a wonderful priest, Father Matthew Tobin – known to all of us here at St. Rita’s as Matt.

“The parish wants to thank the Bishop and the personnel board – or whoever it was that came up with the crazy idea 8 years ago of putting together a Saint with this Sinner. Thank you. Amen.”

* I found the pictures of these two dogs on the internet - under Terrier and Rottweiller

** Someone asked me after Mass if this story is true - and I blurted out, "It is a totally made up story. It's fiction. I have nobody and no place in mind."

THE FOUR
LEGS OF THE CHAIR
CALLED ‘ME’

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Four Legs of the Chair Called ‘Me’.”

The chairs here in the sanctuary at St. Mary’s are not all the same. The big chair there – that the priest sits on – has good strong legs. It feels secure. The other chairs sometimes feel “iffy”. I’ve sat on both.

Out at St. John Neumann’s, the chairs are all very sturdy. The benches there are also strong. They also have a nice “cushy” feeling compared to the benches here – which are squeaky, “uncushy”, and sometimes feel “uh ohy”.

We’ve all had the experience of sitting on a chair that didn’t seem that strong.

If we were to describe ourselves as a chair, would I be strong or “uh ohy”?

Answering that question for ourselves would be the gist or theme or point or subject of my homily for today.

TODAY’S GOSPEL

In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses the image of a house. He challenges us to look at the foundation words of our house.

Today’s gospel is the dramatic ending of the Sermon on the Mount: the contrast of being wise or being foolish. However, we might have lost the beauty of the Sermon on the Mount with Lent and then all these recent Sunday feasts that knocked out these Sunday readings from the Sermon on the Mount.

Matthew gathered all these quick quotes or key sayings of Jesus about how to do life – like not judging others, turning the other cheek, going the extra mile, forgiving and settling grievances, fasting and praying and giving money to be seen by God not others, not being a phony, traveling through the narrow gate, treating others the way you would like to be treated, etc. Then Jesus says, “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like the wise person who built his house on rock. The rain feel, the floods came, and the wind blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been built solidly on rock.”

Jesus was a carpenter. He knew how to build a strong house.

I could have used the image of a house for this sermon, but I thought a chair might be more familiar – unless you’re an engineer or a carpenter. Carpenters build chairs as well.

How strong is your house? How strong is the chair called “you”?

BUILT ON WORDS – PRINCIPLES - VALUES
Hopefully, what I said so far is fairly clear. Now let me move towards the more complicated.

Today’s first reading from Deuteronomy 11 talks about the Jewish practice of wearing phylacteries – a small box – or a pouch – with leather straps so one could wear the box around one’s head or around one’s wrist. The box would have 4 small compartments – each containing key words from the Jewish scriptures. The idea was to keep God’s words ever before one’s mind and sight.

Interesting. It might seem strange, yet people today have tattoos, t-shirts, bumper stickers, signs, this and that, with favorite sayings or words on them.

If I asked you to come up with four principles – four sayings – for the four legs of the chair that holds up your life, what would you come up with?

As I began to reflect upon this question, I realized it’s quite a challenge. Secondly, I said to myself, “I can’t ask people to do this, if I don’t do this myself.” And the answers are not out there in some book. They are in here – in my life.

When we die, people will sit there in the funeral parlor or at the church service and pull together for themselves, who we are – what made us tick.

What makes us tick? What moves us? What are we off on?

Why wait till we die, till this be known?

Six years ago I was changed from St. Gerard’s Church in Lima, Ohio to here in Annapolis. After the last mass, on the last Sunday I was there, they had coffee and donuts in the church hall for folks who wanted to say, “Good bye.” There was a microphone and different folks got up and several gave their take on me. It was like being at your own funeral. Thank God no enemies showed up. Sitting there was quite an eye opener.

What is your take on yourself?

Could you list 4 of your life principles?

LIFE PRINCIPLES
What do I mean by life principles?

Let me give two from somewhere else, and then give the 4 legs of the chair called me.

We might remember the scene on TV with Ronald Reagan standing there on the lawn outside the White House. I think it was near the end of his presidency . Nancy is sort of just behind him. Reporters are firing questions about something at him. The microphones pick up something Nancy Reagan says to Ronald. “Tell them, you’re doing the best you can.”

Is that one of life’s principles that people go by each day? Was that one of Nancy Reagan’s life principles? “Try to do the best you can.” Whether you’re president or first lady or parent or an insurance salesperson, you try to do the best each day each day.

That’s an example of what I would call a life principle.

The second I noticed in yesterday’s paper. Now I’m not trying to get into politics in the pulpit. One of my principles is not to go there.

The article in the paper said that some people were angry at Scott McClellan for coming out with his memoirs entitled, What Happened. The writer of the article contrasted two principles: loyalty and honesty. They are not contradictory – but they can cause conflict.

Using them as two contrasts, if you were a president or a boss, if there was a conflict between honesty and loyalty, which would you want?

The author of the article prefers honestly. (1)

Now if you understand what I’m getting at when I use the phrase, “Life Principles,” I can move on to my listing of my 4 principles – or the 4 legs of the chair called me.

Now whether this is really me, cedes to action. Talk is cheap. Actions speak louder than words. I’m sure those who know me, know me better than I know myself.

FIRST PRINCIPLE: HAVE A GOOD TIME

The first principle that makes me tick is: Have a Good Time.

This is not a “churchy” theme. In fact, it feels at first a bit embarrassing. I remember reading a statement by an English priest who said, “When Jesus spoke, they wanted to crucify him. When I speak, they invite me to tea.”

Yet, to be honest, I have to say, “Have a good time” is one of my life principles. Are you having a good time being at Mass right now?

My first assignment was that of being a parish priest on the Lower East side of Manhattan. I had no clue where to begin. So I visited people who were “shut in” – and I did this and that. I wish I knew Spanish better.

Then after two years I got changed to a retreat house in New Jersey. They wanted a young guy to do high school retreats.

Every weekend there were adult retreats – mostly men’s retreats.

I began to hear men say, “I wish I had come here earlier in my life.” When probing the why, I found out that various men said they had made a high school retreat when they were young and it was all prayer – all kneeling – not much fun.

So I tried to make high school retreats an enjoyable experience, with the hope that when they were in college, or married, when they heard someone pushing a Marriage Encounter Weekend or a retreat weekend or an adult ed program, they would say to themselves, “”Hey I did that in high school and it was a good experience. Okay. Sign me up.”

I was stationed there for 7 years. Next I was in another retreat house for 7 years. I did the same thing there – trying to make each retreat a life giving, enjoyable experience.

Next, I had the job of novice master for 9 years – for 9 classes of young men hoping to become Redemptorists. It was like 9 weekend retreats – each one taking a year. Well, I had heard many Redemptorists say their novice year was the worst year of their life in becoming a Redemptorist. Well, I didn’t want to hear that for the rest of my life whenever I would meet someone I had as a novice. So I tried to make it a wonderful year – a year when each of us was having the time of our life.

Next, for 8 ½ years I was in Ohio preaching parish missions – as well as priests and nuns retreats in the off season around the country – and I tried to make them a “Having a good time” experience as well.

Then I was stationed here at St. Mary’s. I was back to being a parish priest again – away from it since 1969. It struck me doing funerals and weddings that some of these people were not Catholic – and some of these Catholic folks were not going to Mass, so I tried to make the wedding or funeral personal – and a joyful experience. My goal was basic: that people would say, “That wasn’t too bad.” Better: “That was a good experience. Maybe I ought to get back to church. Maybe I’m missing the time of my life.”

And I have heard several people say that: Praise God.

So that’s my first principle – the first leg of the chair called, “me”.

Have a good time!

SECOND PRINCIPLE: JESUS IS MY LORD AND REDEEMER
My second principle is Jesus is my Redeemer.

These next three life principles will be shorter, otherwise you won’t be having a good time.

At the age of 20, in my novitiate year, the reality of Jesus – and following him – being connected to him – hit me big time. Jesus is the core of my life. Jesus, someone who died 2000 years ago, is someone that I can be in communion with today. So my life is based on Jesus Christ being not only a teacher, a great historical figure, but Jesus being the Son of God. I can relate to him – pray to and with him – and follow him. Now this is quite a gamble with one’s life – my doing it as a Redemptorist. I know Protestants often like to proclaim, "Jesus is Lord!" This was something that I was brought up as a Redemptoristl The founder of the Redemptorists begins his key book, The Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, this way: “The whole sanctity and perfection of a soul consists in loving Jesus Christ, our God, our sovereign good, and our Redeemer.” Modern English translation: “The whole story is Jesus.” Or as St. Paul puts it in Philippians 2:5, "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus."

So Jesus is the second leg of my chair.

THIRD PRINCIPLE: WE’RE MARBLED

My third principle – the third reality I go by is that we are marbled. We are flawed. We have been broken and repaired many times. If we looked at the legs of the chair of our life, we would see where parts of us have been broken. We have snapped at times and it took good glue to get us back together again.

We make mistakes. Of course, we do good, but each of us as we heard in today’s second reading “have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.” Paul too then says that Jesus Christ is the one who can make us right.

As I look at my life – as priest as I listen to the lives of others – as I live with other priests – it’s very apparent to me – that we human beings are marbled.

This can lead to cynicism, complaining, whining, griping, but it can also lead to conversion, grace, forgiveness, laughter and understanding.

It's easier to see other's faults and foibles - better than our own.

Name your addiction. Name your poison. Name your problem.

"Let him or her without sin cast the first stone." (Cf. John 8:7b.)

Or as Jesus put it in the Sermon on the Mount, "Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not see the log in your own eye" (Matthew 7:3)

I was at a funeral recently – and at the dinner afterwards I could see 3 of the children of the person who died, smoking. And I was saying to myself that the person who died could have had a couple more years if she didn’t smoke.

Smoking, overeating, over drinking, over TV or computering, not exercising – the stories of crimes and stupidity – are all part of life. We are marbled.

FOURTH AND LAST PRINCIPLE: WE’RE ALL DIFFERENT

The fourth and last principle is we are all different.

One of the things that drives me crazy – is this thing in the church as well as in many other places that we are all supposed to think the same.

We’re don’t. We’re different.

To me pluralism is not an issue. It’s a reality.

Matthew is different from Mark. Mark is different from Luke. And Matthew, Mark and Luke are different from John. And they are different from Paul and Mary – and on and on and on.

Of course 3 apples plus 2 apples is 5 apples. Of course, we have the Creed in our Church – and we say it in unity. But take a good look at those apples. Listen carefully to the nuances of theology and preaching and understanding – about the different articles of the Creed.

God is a Trinity of persons. We are a billionity of persons.

We are different as Adam is to Eve, Cain is to Abel, Martha is to Mary.

This is so obvious, that it can be oblivious at times.

It provides song lines like, “Why can a woman be more like a man” in My Fair Lady when Professor Higgins asks Pickering that question over and over again in the song, “A Hymn to Him.”

I am often reminded of the saying, “The greatest sin is our inability to accept the otherness of the other person.”

CONCLUSION

There I did it. That’s my chair – as I sit on it on June 1st, 2008.

Sit on a chair this week and come up with the four legs of your chair. If you’re married, have your spouse come up with your four and vice versa, and don’t forget to laugh when you hear the differences in each other’s answers – and make sure you are having the time of your life.



(1) Gail Collins, “What George Forgot,” N. Y. Times, Op-Ed column, May 31, 2008

HOW TO
MAKE
THE ROSARY
MAKE
MORE SENSE

Moving Through the Mysteries
and Moments of Life
We All Go Through


An E-Blog Free Book

By Andy Costello, CSSR

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

The Five Joyful Mysteries
1) The Annunciation
2) The Visitation
3) The Birth
4) The Presentation.
5) The Finding


The Five Luminous Mysteries

1) The Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan
2) The Wedding Feast at Cana
3) The Proclamation of the Kingdom
4) The Transfiguration
5) Jesus Gives Us the Eucharist


The Five Sorrowful Mysteries
1) The Agony in the Garden
2) The Scourging at the Pillar
3) The Crowning With Thorns
4) The Carrying of the Cross
5) The Death on the Cross


The Five Glorious Mysteries
1) The Resurrection of Jesus from the Dead
2) The Ascension of Jesus into Heaven
3) The Descent of the Holy Spirit on the Church
4) The Assumption of Mary into Heaven
5) The Crowning of Mary Queen of Heaven


INTRODUCTION

Rosary beads sometimes break. They get caught on doorknobs or bed posts or on the turning signal of our car. The links in a chain aren’t always that strong.

When we break a rosary, we pick up the broken pieces, so we can put them back together again – that is, if we have a small pair of pliers. We place the pieces on a table to see if we have all the parts. Then we arrange the decades in order.

A rosary is like the time line of our life.

When we break, when we fall apart, we need time to pick up the broken pieces.

A rosary is a good way to look at and pray about the mysteries of life.

THE CROSS

Obviously, birth comes first.

Yet the rosary begins with the cross.

A person picks up a rosary, takes the cross in hand and makes the sign of the cross on their body saying, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

The cross is the Christian sign and symbol.

The cross stands there tall, hanging over every town, every church, every life.

For the Christian, the cross is central. Obviously, we don’t notice this – especially when we are young or when everything is going well.

However, when suffering cuts across our life – we see that the hill of Calvary and its cross looms high over every house. There are times in everyone’s life when we’ve been crucified.

The sign of the cross signifies so much:

· the cross is basic to everyday life: we wake up planning things to go one way and someone or something cuts across our plans and we have to go another way or stay stuck in our frustration;
· the cross is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil;
· the cross is the tree of life planted in the middle of our garden;
· the cross is a ladder that can help us climb out of the grave of death to resurrection;
· the cross is a STOP sign on the road of life;
· the cross is a sign that points the way to redemption.

If we look at the cross as a tree, it looks very barren. It only has two branches. Yet when we spend time under the cross like Mary, we begin to see it is filled with fruit, filled with life.

Take and eat.

In the first pages of the Bible, in the book of Genesis, Adam and Eve are created and placed in an idyllic garden. They are told they can eat from every tree in the garden – except one tree. Every story has a catch, doesn’t it? The one tree they can’t eat from is “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil planted in the middle of the garden.” And if they eat the forbidden fruit, they will surely die.

That’s the crux of the story.

It’s a great story and great stories always have a catch. They have a snake in the grass. They have a snake in the story that slithers around on the slippery grass of our life whispering temptations into our ears. The serpent tempts Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, “Take and eat!”

On the last pages of the Gospels, Mary, the New Eve, stands under the tree of the cross – the tree of the knowledge of good and evil that was planted at Calvary, and she does what Christ the New Adam tells us to do: “Take and eat.” And on the day you eat of me, you will surely live. (Cf. John 19:25; Luke 22:14-20; John 6:51-58.)

Blessed is the fruit from the tree of the cross.

It doesn’t look as inviting or as enticing as the forbidden fruit on the tree in the Garden of Paradise – but take and eat.

“Blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.”

The cross is certainly the tree that teaches us the knowledge of good and evil. They killed Jesus on the cross as he spoke words of forgiveness and love before he died.

Don’t we crucify each other? Hopefully we also love and forgive each other.

Sit under the tree of the cross and listen. Sit under the cross and learn. Sit under the cross and eat.

FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY
Then there are four beads. We pray the Our Father on the separate bead and then three Hail Mary’s on the three beads strung together for the gifts and virtues of faith, hope and charity in our life.

If you don’t have time to say the whole rosary or even just one decade of the rosary, just pray these 4 beads.

Who said we have to say all the beads – to pray all the mysteries?

If we go through the day with faith, hope, and charity – we will certainly make a difference that day.

If we walk with faith, hope, and charity – we walk with a clear mission statement – vision – outlook for that day.

If we are a person of faith, hope, and charity – we are being salt and light.

THE DECADES AND THE MYSTERIES
As we continue to look at the pieces of our life, especially when we feel like a broken rosary on a table, we see our life not only has a beginning and an end – it has lots of mysteries in between.

Our life has “decades.” They are there for the remembering and they are there for the praying. We have only glimpses and bits of some of the moments in our first 10 years of life. Our vision improves as we look at the decades that follow: our teens, our twenties, thirties, forties, fifties, and some of us admit to being even older than that.

Life … our life … if the story be told ….

Life … our life … if the secrets be known ….

Life goes fast at times.

Life goes slow at times.

Like saying the Rosary … like praying the rosary … at times.

But life is always interesting – and even more so, if we start looking at and praying the mysteries of our life.

Some people’s story seems to be more joyful and glorious than others. Some people seem to get all the breaks. Some people always seem to be broken. Some people seem to spend more time than others crowned with thorny headaches or carrying a cross.

Unfortunately, we don’t know each other enough. We experience our own rosary. We meditate on our own mysteries. Yet, if we pray and reflect enough, the mysteries of our life can link us with each other. As Cardinal Newman put it, “I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.”

Obviously, if we pray and reflect about life, we will have more light than if we don’t pray.

Is my life filled with darkness with occasional bursts of light? Or is my life filled with light with occasional blots of darkness?

Time sometimes comes like a flood. But most of the time, it drips, drips, drips, like the ticking of a clock. Life is drops – beads – of sweat, perfume, water and wine. It is a rosary of moments, a rosary of mysteries.

Now, of course, our life is not broken up into nice and neat decades. We don’t automatically change every 10 years. Yet our life has its stages and seasons marked off by decisive and dividing moments: its “decades”.

Life changes and we change with the changes. We learn to walk. We learn to talk. We go to school. We graduate. We find ourselves in relationships. We break off relationships or are broken by relationships. We start again. We marry. We take on a job. There are moves. There are births. There are deaths. There are sicknesses, accidents, and surprises. Life! Isn’t it mostly the unexpected?

Life changes. And sometimes the links in the chain of our life aren’t as strong as we thought they were. We have our breaking points. Hopefully, we pick up the pieces, put them on the table, look at them slowly and carefully, and then with help, we put our life back together again and again and again – like fixing a broken rosary – like saying the rosary again and again and again.

Sometimes we can spot the places where we broke. The repair work wasn’t all that good. But it worked at the time; we were healed and we were linked back together once again.

Once a rosary is fixed, it becomes a circle again. Perhaps we repeat the rosary over and over again because the mysteries of life repeat themselves over and over again and again till we get them – maybe.

“Life”, as Yogi Berra gets credited for saying, “is déjà vu over and over again.”

But down deep, who understands the why’s and wherefore’s of life? We are often repeat performances. Yet hopefully we gradually learn something from each experience along the time line of our life.

Life is a circle – but hopefully, it’s a spiraling circle – ever upward – ever outwards towards an elusive God – our Future – our Father – as we attempt to encircle God.

A spiraling circle is a good image, because we can’t lasso God. We can’t tie God up or down. Yet taking time to pray is taking time to be with God. It’s like getting out onto the dance floor and taking a chance – even when we don’t know the dance. We hold onto each other – stepping this way and that – to the music and the beat. We move around in circles – getting to be with each other – knowing we are so, so different from each other – and at the same time, so, so alike – and surprise: the dance and tunes of life keep changing through the years.

Our life then has its decades and its mysteries.

Our decades – years, months, even our days – have their moods. There are times when we find so much joy along our path – but then a horror happens around the corner like a car accident. Hopefully, there is recovery and resurrection and we are glorious once again. And as we reflect upon all these changes we see the light at times – we experience illumination.

Life is simple.

Yet, life is also complex.

Life repeats itself.

Yet, life is always brand new.

Life has walls, but it also has it doors. It’s a desert, but there are also gardens. It’s a feast, but sometimes it’s a beast. It’s a crowd, but sometimes we feel all alone. It’s has a past, but there’s always the future. Yet, we have to deal with life in the here and now.

Isn’t that what makes it so mysterious, so crazy, so worth living?

Isn’t that what makes it so joyful, sorrowful, glorious and hopefully, enlightening.

Just when we think we understand life – or its situations or ourselves or other people or God, surprise, the unexpected happens. Mystery stares us in the face. Suspense surprises us.

We need friction to get sparks of light. A match needs to rub against something rough to light.

Light! More light!

Life! More life!

Life has its mysteries.

“Ay, there’s the rub,” as Shakespeare put it in Hamlet’s “To be, or not to be…” soliloquy.

The rosary gives us some words and labels to understand life’s decades and some of life’s mysteries.
Last year on this blog I did another series of reflections on these mysteries of the rosary.

The following is an attempt to spell some of this out further.

FIVE NEW MYSTERIES
Up until recently, the rosary presented 15 mysteries: the Joyful, Sorrowful and Glorious Mysteries of life – the ones Catholics have been familiar with all their lives. In the year 2,002, Pope John Paul II, added to the rosary 5 more mysteries from the life of Jesus and Mary and hopefully every person’s life.

These 5 new mysteries, added to the 15 other mysteries, help round out life’s picture even more – and who knows, perhaps more mysteries will be presented at some future date?

Right now, let’s look at 20 mysteries of life – knowing there are always more and more and more mysteries to life.

As the old song goes, “Ah, sweet mystery of life ….”