THERE’S MORE TO SEE
THAN MEETS THE EYE

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “There’s More To See Than Meets The Eye.”

I see that as one of the major themes of the Gospel of John.

There’s more to see than meets the eye.

THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

In the Gospel of John we meet big crowds at times, but I also see John introducing us to different characters one by one: John the Baptist, Andrew, the Couple at Cana who run out of wine, Nicodemus who comes to Jesus at night, The Man at the Pool at Bethesda who was sick for 38 years, The Woman Caught in Adultery whom the crowd wanted to stone to death, The Blind Man in Chapter 9, Lazarus, Jesus’ close friend, who had died, Thomas, Judas, Pilate, Mary Magdalene, and Peter. Then there’s the one I bypassed for a moment: The Woman at the Well – whom we meet in today’s gospel. We meet these people in depth – and in these meetings, we can meet Jesus in depth. I think that is a major theme in the Gospel of John.

There’s more to see than meets the eye.

There’s lots of stuff below the surface. There’s much more to the story. Superficial is superficial. Skin calls for us to be more, much more than just skin deep. There’s more to see than meets the eye. There’s more to me than meets the eye. There’s more to you than meets the eye.

Don’t we get angry or down when we are dismissed by another – who just sees us as a label or an old person or young person or a woman or a man or what have you?

TODAY’S GOSPEL

It helps to know the story of The Woman at the Well for our growth in spirituality and for more depth in our relationship with Jesus.

Jesus comes into town. It’s a Samaritan town. It’s noon time. Jesus is tired. Jesus is thirsty. Jesus sits down on the edge of a well. It’s the place where Jacob’s well was. Each item in the story is important.

A Samaritan woman comes to the well for water. Jesus asks her for a drink of water – and the rest of the story is the mystery of meeting.

Aren’t meetings, meetings, meetings, the story of each of our lives?

Well, well, well….

Each of us goes to the well many times.

Each of us has a well down deep inside of us.

What’s in our well?

Is there living water down there? Or has it become foul? Poisoned? Or is it a dry cistern?

What have been the experiences of our life?

Whom have we met in our life?

Whom have been the rivers in our lives? Whom have been those significant people whom we have met – and as we heard in the first reading for today, they taped the rock called “me” and living water flowed?

Jesus sits at the edge of our well and he is waiting for each of us – each Lent – each Sunday – each day – each moment.

We just heard the story. We find out the woman has been married 5 times. We find out that the man she is living with right now is not her husband. We discover she becomes an evangelist and brings the members of her town to meet Jesus. We discover that many in that town follow Jesus, first at the word of the woman – but then on their own – because Jesus stays with them two days.

There’s more to see than meets the eye.

A MAIN STREET RESTAURANT

I’m walking by a restaurant on Main Street here in Annapolis. I see a couple eating there almost as a window display. I notice they are not talking. Their forks are in pause. I look at their faces. They seem blank at the moment my eyes look at their faces.

Well, well, well….

As I continue walking, I wonder about the state of their marriage or relationship. Are they still in love? Do they still talk like they talked that whole first year they met – when they couldn’t get enough of each other, couldn’t get enough moments together…?

I continue walking. Maybe they are not married. Maybe they are old friends. Maybe they are brother and sister. Maybe they are on their second date – both divorced – or both lost a spouse. Maybe they are married to someone else.

I continue walking. Maybe they are parents of an only son or daughter who went to the Naval Academy – who was killed in Afghanistan or Iraq a year ago – and the three of them used to eat in this restaurant when he or she was at the Navy Academy – and they are sitting there at this moment doing this in memory of him or her.

There’s more to see than meets the eye.

POEMS OF SEAMUS HEANEY

I think of a poem* and the poems of Seamus Heaney. He’s sitting there writing with pen in hand and his dad is outside digging and digging – farming potatoes – and he reflects that his father is doing what his father did and his father did – and everything is in this moment. His dad is doing more than farming potatoes.

There’s more to see than meets the eye.

Several times I’ve sat down like Jesus at a well and began to drink Seamus Heaney’s words – like I’ve done with the poetry of Mary Oliver and Denise Levertov, and so many other poets and found myself drinking delicious water from deep wells.

I remember reading how Seamus Heaney was amazed at the stories of bodies found in peat bogs from way back in the Iron Age – around the 6 century BC in Northern Europe – all leather – all teeth – all earth – and how he reflected on these bodies. Then as I walked up and down streets and drove by a thousand fields, I thought about all that is buried below my feet – a zillion bugs who were born and flew and bugged and now gone – and dust – faded flowers that bees loved and honeyed and then disappeared – and people – lots of people.

And I look at all of you here in church and I see buried in all of you stories – meetings – husbands – wives – children – relationships – hurts – wonderings. I see all of you as cemeteries – with your tomb stones. I see all of you as libraries – filled with books – poems, travelogues – short stories – fiction and non-fiction. I see you as photo albums with lots of pictures of lots of people and lots of places and lots of moments – the stories of one’s life.

Well, well, well, ….

I see all of you here at this well called St. Mary’s – this well called the Sunday morning 10:30 Choir Mass here at St. Mary’s. I see some of you here this morning as this woman – ready to be surprised – to be filled with living water. I see some of you sometimes coming to Mass at this time – at this moment – because you come to Mass each Sunday – not ready to be surprised – just here to get your bucket filled with water and to go home – over and over again.

I know that because that’s me too – too many times. I’m here because I have to be here – too many times.

Of course, I hope all of us who are here this morning will experience Jesus surprising you – getting you to see that that you might have 5 husbands or 5 wives and the person you’re with now – you’re not married to – that you’re married to your job – or your children – or to your computer – or to the television set – or to the cell phone – or to your groups and the person you’re married to now, you’re not treating as a spouse.

CONCLUSION

So I hope all of you meet Jesus at this well this morning – in the word – in the moments of this mass – sitting here in this restaurant on Duke of Gloucester Street – hearing Jesus say, “This is my Body. This is my Blood. Take and eat. Take and drink.”

And I hope you meet Jesus deep in your well – not just on the edge of your well, when you receive him in communion – down deep – and he fills your well with living water.

And for the next two days at least, I hope you experience Jesus and you say to yourself, “I am your follower Jesus not just because my parents gave me this gift of faith, but because I have met Jesus, like this woman at the well met him.

I think that’s what John is trying to do with this story he told us this morning about The Woman at The Well.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Cf. pages 428-429, “Digging,” in For the Love of Ireland, edited by Susan Cahill

THE BIG PICTURE

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Big Picture.”

It helps to see the big picture – to have a vision – a plan – to scope out the whole scene.

A rather large priest once told me, “Whenever you are at a buffet restaurant – don’t get on the line. Step back and look at everything. Then walk around and check out the whole territory. They often put the best stuff at the end of the line – because people have their plates full by then. Then get your plate, get on line and go for the best.”

Life is a cabaret. Life is a buffet line. Life is a smorgasbord. Choose well. Okay, sometimes life is a card game – you have to play the cards you’re dealt. So study who’s at the table. Look at faces. Watch finger tapping. Discard the bad cards – if you can. Play well.

The title of my homily is, “The Big Picture.”

TODAY’S READINGS

I think that’s a good theme for today’s readings on this Second Sunday in Lent.

In the first reading from Genesis, God gives Abraham the big picture – that he will become a great nation. Then he tells Abraham he wants him to relocate – to move. That’s the first step in the plan. Move.

Concerning Abraham, we’ll hear this theme over and over again. It was a difficult plan to see. It was difficult to believe he would be a great nation, when he and his wife didn’t have any children yet.

The second reading from Paul’s Second Letter to Timothy continues that theme as it talks about God’s design. Timothy is also called to follow God’s plan – to move forwards with the strength and grace that comes from God – through Jesus Christ.

And in today’s gospel, Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain and is transfigured before them. They are given a great vision – a great view – the big picture. Then he leads them down the mountain – telling them to keep the vision quiet. To keep our mind focused and our mouth shut is not that easy.

MOUNTAIN’S, PLANES, TALL BUILDINGS

We’ve all had experiences of being on mountains or in a plane or in a tall building – and looking down and seeing everything in a big perspective.

We’ve all stopped in our car to look at a map – unless we have the guidance of GPS – The Global Positioning System – that uses 24 or more satellites up there to help us to see where we are down here.

If you use Google, and you haven’t downloaded Google Earth yet, do it. It’s neat. Then just type in your zip code or any zip code and the screen spins the earth and takes you to downtown Annapolis – or downtown San Francisco. For example, I put in 21401 and I can see our parking lot at St. Mary’s church and gardens and my car – or any place on the planet – from way up or up close.

Neat. It helps to see the big picture.

LIFE

But of course life is lived in the valley.

Life is the iddy biddy – the walking up and down the supermarket aisles with a hand written shopping list – sometimes a kid in a shopping cart reaching at stuff you don’t want him and her to touch or take. Then when you have everything you need and you get to the front of the store, you notice every check out lane is five deep.

The coach calls time out. There are 5 seconds left in the game. Your team has the ball. You’re behind by 1 point. He or she designs the big play on an erasable board. Then it’s time to get back on the court and the team to execute the design – to make the right moves.

It helps to see the big picture.

THE CROSS

It’s no accident that the cross is on top of churches and in churches – around necks – and along the highways of life.

Christ sees the big picture from on top of Calvary.

Christ on this enormous cross up here sees this whole church.

We too see a lot more when we are on the cross.

We too see a lot more when we are suffering.

We see a lot more in the hospital or on vacation – if we stop to look.

We see a lot more about a person at their funeral.

It helps to see the big picture.

Lent is a good time to step back – to take long walks – to look at our life – to see the big picture.

We see a lot more at 25 than we saw at 15.

We see a lot more at 50 than we saw at 25.

We see a lot more at 75 than we saw at 50.

We know a lot more about marriage or a job or kids or neighbors or friends in time – but not at the time. We all know hindsight is better than 20 / 20 sight.

We all know the old saying about the 6 people in a marriage: "The she, she thinks she is; the she, he thinks she is; the she, she really is; the he, he thinks he is; the he, she thinks he is; the he, he really is.” Try saying that ten times fast.

Then there is the better and the worse, the sickness and the health, death and sometimes we part.

We learn life when we move. We learn life in steps and stages – unless we stop seeing and stop growing.

We can become myopic. We can get tunnel vision. We can be dumb. We can give up. We can die, before we die. We can have eyes that don’t see, ears that don’t hear and have a heart and a mind that can become closed. Step back. What have you put on your plate?

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

One of my favorite books is, The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck. It was on the best seller list for years.

Lots of people read it. I’m sure many of you have it on your bookshelf – or in the attic, garage or cellar in a cardboard box.

If you haven’t read it lately, read it again this Lent.

Everyone who has read it knows the first line, the first paragraph, in the first section of the book after the introduction: “Life is difficult.”

Everyone who looks at or makes the Stations of the Cross knows that’s the meaning of the 14 Stations of the Cross: Life is difficult.

The book has so many examples that trigger good thoughts.

Today I’d like to refer to the example of the two generals. It’s on page 76. That’s easy to remember: 76 trombones – or 1776.

“Imagine two generals, each having to decide whether or not to commit a division of ten thousand men to battle. To one the division is but a thing, a unit of personnel, an instrument of strategy and nothing more. To the other it is these things, but he is also aware of each and every one of the ten thousand lives and the lives of the families of each of the ten thousand. For whom is the decision easier?”

Then M.Scott Peck answers his own question: “It is easier for the general who has blunted his awareness precisely because he cannot tolerate the pain of a more nearly complete awareness. It may be tempting to say, ‘Ah, but a spiritually evolved man would never become a general in the first place.’ But the same issue is involved in being a corporation president, a physician, a teacher, a parent. Decisions affecting the lives of others must always be made. The best decision-makers are those who are willing to suffer the most over their decisions but still retain their ability to be decisive. One measure – and perhaps the best measure – of a person’s greatness is the capacity for suffering. Yet the great are also joyful. This, then is the paradox. Buddhists tend to ignore the Buddha’s suffering and Christians forget Christ’s joy. Buddha and Christ were not different men. The suffering of Christ letting go on the cross and the joy of Buddha letting go under the bo tree are one.” (p. 76)

CONCLUSION

Hopefully, we’d all like to be the second general – to have the big picture.

How to have the big picture?

One answer: make a good Lent.

How to make a good Lent?

Some answers: Take good walks. Sit in quiet churches. Sit under the tree of the cross. Visit cemeteries. Drive with the radio off. Walk along the water in the Naval Academy or Quiet Waters Park. Read obituaries. Better: read autobiographies – or biographies. See the big picture of one’s own life by reading about another’s life. Write your own life – or your parent’s biographies. Take out your family pictures. Sort them out. Study them. Who’s next to whom? Who’s missing? Who’s up front? Who’s in the back? Sometimes looking at lots of individual pictures will give us the big picture. Or just look in a mirror. Look deep into your own eyes. Pause for a few moments of quiet. Then ask, “Hey you. How’s it going on in there?”

See the big picture. Are you enjoying being on the great buffet line of life? Are you making good choices? Are you choosing the best stuff to put on your plate?

LENTEN PRACTICES

Lord, this Lent,
let my good example be loud
and my ego soft and silent.
Let my sacrifices, prayer,
fasting and Lenten practices
be for your honor and glory,
as well as the lifting up
of the spirit and life
of my neighbor. Amen

© Andy Costello, Markings Prayers

PRAYER FOR LENT

Come Holy Spirit
during these 40 Days of Lent,
lead me like you led Jesus,
into the wilderness, to the mountains,
to the temple, to those places within me
that I need to go to face those temptations
in my life that I need to face and overcome.
Give me words, Sacred Words,
like you gave to Jesus,
so that I might challenge and face
my hungers and my needs,
my demons and Satan, the tempter within.

Come Holy Spirit
during these 40 Days of Lent,
give me the strength you gave Jesus
to face the great temptations of life:
the temptation to take the easy way out,
like changing rocks into bread,
without working and sweating for our daily bread;
the temptation to reach for power and self glory,
Satan’s kind of power, not God’s power of humility;
the temptation to place myself in dangerous situations,
saying that God will watch over me,
and in the process stumbling,
because I said, “It’s all up to God”
without any decisions coming from me.

© Andy Costello, Markings Prayers

DAILY PRAYER FOR LENT

Lord, guide me
through these 40 days of Lent.

Protect me and direct me:
be a cloud above me this day
and a pillar of fire above me this night.

Remind me to take some moments today to go
with you into the mountains of prayer,
where I might see you transfigured before me.

Enter into my temple this day; walk around;
remind me when I’m too busy buying and selling;
and cleanse me of my idols.

Lord, help me this day to be like you:
a grain of wheat willing to die
so that others might live.

© Andy Costello Markings Prayers

LENTEN PRAYER

Jesus, Temple,
and cleanser of temples,
cleanse my inner temple,
turn me and all my house
into a house of prayer.

Jesus, Passover,
pass over my sins,
but not over my house,
nor my work, nor all
the people in my life.

Jesus, Cross,
hanging high above
all the crosses
of the world,
help me to help others
as they too make the
way of the cross.

Jesus, Grain of Wheat
that died and was buried
in the earth,
help me to die to self,
so as to be like you:
daily bread for others.

© Andy Costello, Markings Prayers

LENT:

BORROWED MISSALETTES

The missalettes were missing—well, not all 500 of them, but that Sunday most of them were missing from the church benches of St. Monica's Parish.

Father Tom, who said the 8 and 9 AM Masses, said he didn’t notice anything different. He usually doesn’t. His nickname in the seminary was, “Sleep Walker.” Most Sundays he puts most of the people asleep. So to be honest, he didn’t even notice that the missalettes were missing at those two Masses.

But Monsignor Curry, he’s Monsignor Exact, he’s Monsignor Precise, he noticed it at the 11 AM Sunday Mass. He notices everything. “What happened to the missalettes?” He was sitting up there in the church sanctuary with his own personal missalette. He even has his name on it. Well, when the second reading moved from page 19 to 20, the familiar sound, “chuuumsshish”—the sound of 400 pages all turning at the same time was not to be heard. And when he was reading the gospel, everybody was looking at him. Nobody was following along with a booklet. They didn’t seem to have one. He got nervous. His sermon was shorter than usual that Sunday morning: 4 minutes and 13 seconds to be exact. Jim Grayson, one of the ushers and an accountant, always timed Monsignor’s homilies. The two of them would often joke about it after Mass. “A little bit long today, Monsignor. 5 minutes and 57 seconds.” And Monsignor Curry would always reply. “Nope! It was 5 minutes to the second. You know me. You know what I always say, `A five minute sermon: exactly five minutes every time and every time right to the point! That’s what people want. No fluff. Solid stuff. People want meat and potatoes. People want substance.’”

So after Mass, after saying “Have a nice day”, with a handshake and only half of a Sunday smile, Monsignor Curry headed back for the church benches. He asked Fred Wilson, the head usher, “Where are the missalettes?” Except for one or two scattered here and there around the church, they were all gone. The other 4 ushers were probably out in the parking lot by now. Fred answered, “I don’t know, Monsignor. I was surprised that nobody was using them either. I thought it was something new you guys just cooked up.”

Monsignor Terence Curry shook his head and grunted, “Uuuum”. Back in the rectory, he caught Father Tom and asked if he knew what happened to the missalettes. He said he didn’t even know they were missing. He caught Father Tim Tames who had the 5:00 PM Mass Saturday afternoon. He said they were there at the 5. The old people were using them. They always do. A lot of them can’t hear that well.”

“Who took the missalettes from the benches?”

Mystery! Well, Monsignor Curry started calling around the parish. On his fifth phone call, the mystery was solved. It was the visiting priest who had the 7:00 Sunday Morning Mass. Mrs. Grimes said, “He told us to take a missalette home. `Nobody would notice it. Steal one. It has great readings for Lent. Use it for prayer during the week. Catholics usually don’t carry Bibles around with them. A missalette is nice and light and easy to carry with you to work or wherever you pray: whether you pray on the bus or in the bathroom or wherever.’ 

The Monsignor jumped in, "He said, `bathroom,’"

"Yes, Monsignor, yes he said 'bathroom.’ He also said, `This year’s Sunday’s readings touch all the basic issues of life. Great Lenten reading.’”

Monsignor Curry was laughing when he put down the phone. He headed back to where Father Tames and Father Walker were. “Guys, you’re not going to believe this. Father Nelson is the culprit. He told everyone at the 7 o’clock Mass to steal a missalette. `Nobody would notice it.’ Surprise! Everyone took him at his word.”

Father Nelson was the visiting priest. He had a wedding of a niece the day before and stayed over at the rectory that Saturday night. He had volunteered to take a Mass the next day in case someone wanted a break. They gave him the 7:00 AM Mass and he was gone by 10:00 that Sunday morning. 

It was a busy parish. Sunday Masses were on the hour: 7:00, 8:00, 9:00, 10:00, and 11:00. There was also a Mass at 5:00 o’clock on Saturday evening. Being an exact man, the Monsignor liked easy to remember and exact times for Masses—on the hour. “Have them in and have them out, all in 45 minutes and they’ll love you for it. And if you don’t, they’ll be cursing you because the parking lot will be a disaster. So don’t preach too long. Keep your eye on the big clock in the back of the church. That’s why I put it there.”

Then the Monsignor added, “We’re going to have to call up the missalette company first thing tomorrow morning and order 500 more. Isn’t that funny? I never heard anything like this before in my forty-five years of being a priest.”

That afternoon the word was all around the diocese. “Almost 500 missalettes stolen!” The Monsignor, well, all three priests, called their friends, and then their friends called their friends. “Stories like this don’t make the diocesan paper,” one priest said. “All we ever get are pictures of the bishop and the bishop standing there giving people awards!”

The story could have made the local evening news, but it didn’t. However, that afternoon the word also got around the parish. Most people laughed. People envied those who were at the 7:00 o’clock Mass. Those who took a missalette were saying things like, “That’s a good one! And I thought I was the only one who stole one. I guess everybody picked their moment to sneak a missalette into their inner jacket pocket or into their pocketbook, hoping their neighbor wouldn’t see them. I suppose people were trying to figure out all through the Mass the best moment to make their move. Probably, by the time for the sign of peace, most people decided that the best moment for the steal would be when they got back from communion. That’s the time most people close their eyes for a few moments of quiet prayer.”

Now, if most people hadn’t stolen a missalette, and if the story hadn’t been so public, what happened next, probably wouldn’t have happened. People with the stolen property actually began to use what they stole. They began to use the missalettes for prayer that Lent. The story reinforced what Father Nelson had said. “The Lenten Readings this year are great readings for prayer.” Everybody loved his offhand comment, “For Lent this year instead of fasting or abstaining from chocolate chip cookies or chocolate layer cake, fast or abstain from too much talking or too much television. Every day take a 15 minute prayer break. Find a quiet place at work or at home. A lot of people tell me that they use the bathroom for prayer. `It’s the only place in our house where I can get any privacy.’ So read the missalette; pick out just one of the Lenten readings at a time; pray with it. Great stuff. Great Lenten reading.”

Father Nelson was right. As he said in his sermon, the Sunday readings for this Lent, Year A, were loaded with food for thought.

One person said that when she began to reflect on Jesus’ three big temptations in the desert, she saw that they were down deep temptations that she too had to face in her life: trying to live by bread alone without any word from God, looking for the quick magical fix instead of the struggle to work things out—especially when it came to communicating with her husband and her teenage kids, and the ever present temptation that we all have of forgetting God, and trying to go it alone as if we were God.

A few said that they could relate to Peter, James and John when they went up the mountain and experienced the transfiguration of Jesus. They had been on a great Lenten weekend retreat and they didn’t want to leave. The retreat house was in the mountains and they all experienced Jesus in a new way. Prayer seemed much more exciting than the daily grind of everyday life back in the valley.

A few teenager boys—each the youngest in their family—loved the story of God calling David, the youngest in his family, to be the one who would save the people.

Others found themselves wishing they were like “The Woman at The Well.” Surprise! While they were praying, they found out that what happened to her, happened to them in prayer. They met Jesus on the bus or during their coffee break or wherever they grabbed fifteen minutes for prayer.

Three groups, each with about six people, actually formed discussion prayer groups to look at the readings together. They all showed up at their meetings proudly displaying their stolen missalettes. They began their session with a prayer from the missalette. Then someone would do just one reading. They would discuss it. Then they would pray with it for a while—all in an hour. It was so rewarding that they planned on doing it every Lent. Someone even suggested trying it for next Advent as well. That was nixed. “Let’s see if we can do it for this Lent first and then see if the same energy and enthusiasm exists next Lent. Before we start talking Advent, let’s see if this is manageable. You all know the history of small groups in this parish.”

It was later found out that Father Nelson was the last person to hear the story. He was from out of state, so he didn’t know any of this for over a month. When he called his sister for Easter, she told him the whole story.

“Ooops,” he said. So he called up Monsignor Curry to apologize. “To be honest, Monsignor, I didn’t realize what I was saying that morning. I just threw in that thing about stealing a missalette to tell people to really listen to the Lenten readings. I didn’t think people would actually take a missalette. I’m really sorry! I’ll send you a check for what they cost.”

“Send me a check! Hey,” Monsignor Curry blurted back, “we made money on the deal!”

“What,” said Father Nelson back over the phone. “Made money? I don’t understand?”

“Yeah! Someone told me that you mentioned at the end of your homily, `By the way, if you feel guilty about stealing a missalette, throw an extra dollar in the collection this morning.’ Well, I had Jim Grayson of our financial committee check it out. He’s an accountant and a stickler for numbers. So he looked up what was the average income for the 10:00 o’clock collection for the past 5 years other than Christmas, Easter, July and August. Sure enough the Mass that you said that morning brought in $2756.16 over the average collection. Who said Catholics are no longer motivated by guilt?”

Silence. “Father Nelson are you still there?”

© Andy Costello, U.S. Catholic, March 1993