JACOB

[This is a sort of story – instead of a homily - for the 14th Friday in Ordinary Time – the readings being: Genesis 46: 1-7, 28-30 and Matthew 10:16-23. I went this way because in these weekday Masses, we’re moving to the end of the Jacob stories and the end of Genesis and we’ll begin Exodus next Monday.]

Good morning. My name is Jacob. Yes, Jacob. My time was a long time ago – some 1700 years before Christ. I was asked last night to say a few words to you this morning. Where do I begin?

I was wondering.... After hearing these stories about me, are there any questions in your mind you’d like to ask me – or am I just background words – long, long ago background music that leads up to Christ?

I was once asked, “What was THE key moment in your life – the turning point – the moment that changed everything?”

I thought of that for a while.

Then I laughed.

I laughed, because the answer would depend on what time of the day you asked me or what time in my life you wanted to know about.

Does anyone know – really know, the key moment of their life – the turning point – the moment that changed every other moment?

I don’t know.

Maybe that’s for historians and for next life discoveries.

So I don’t know. Yet, maybe you see life differently. Maybe you have a definite and clear answer to question and you could give it with a snap of your fingers.

My life ....

I was a twin – the second born – but my mother’s favorite. That was key – because she wanted me to grab my older brother’s first born son status – and birthright. I lied. She lied. We got it from my father Isaac – and I paid for it – twenty years on the run from my brother Esau – the stronger brother. Yet he ended up bigger and better than me – in that he forgave me for my sin – and we were reconciled.

Was it the death of my different wives – especially my favorite Rachel? Or was it seeing her pain when her sister Laban – my first wife – whom I thought was going to be Rachel – had sons – and she didn’t?

Life is funny.

What goes around comes around. I tricked my father and her father-in-law tricked me.

Was it that night when I couldn’t sleep – and I spent the whole night twisting and turning – and wrestling with a mysterious night time visitor – a demon, an angel, a wild man, myself - something – and I hung in there till morning and received a new nickname: Israel and new insights into life?

Life is interesting.

When you’re going through something horrible – like losing a job – or losing a loved one – you experience pain and deep anger. Then comes the “Why?” “Why?” “Why?” And then those why’s lead to a dozen new why’s. It's my experience that one never knows the answers to why’s or where a mystery ends.

One moves and the next place is worse than the place one left – but then one moves to a third place – and one realizes the second was more significant than the first place.

Or sometimes answers to mysteries appear in funny places. Then again, another day, another year, another experience, brings a new take on each place and each situation one has been in or gone trough. Life takes time. Life takes distance. Life takes old age to figure out young age.

So I’m sensing that the best course of action is this: instead of giving answers – instead of questions in my old age – I simply see scenes from my life.

For example, for years – years now – I couldn’t get over the disappearance and death of my favorite son, Joseph. It took me a long, long time to adjust – to get on with life – without him. Then when the cut had become a hard scar – when I had moved on – surprise, I find out he’s not dead, but alive.

There I am in a wagon – surrounded by wagons and children – wives and children – and we’re on the road again. This time we’re headed for my son Joseph – Joseph the Dreamer.

Who would believe he’d come back into our lives – and like Esau forgiving me – he forgave his brothers for what they had done to him and me.

So I’m thinking right now – maybe forgiveness is key – this ability to forgive others, self.

As to forgiving God? No I learned a long time ago that’s deepest idolatry – to think we can forgive God or even ask the question.

But how do people do this – this forgiveness? Does God plant the forgiveness seed in everyone – and as Jesus was to say some 1700 years after me – in some people seeds grow - 30, 60 and 100fold – and in some people the seed just gets choked up or it’s trampled by feet and wagon wheels.

Jesus said you’re going to get a lot of resistance preaching forgiveness – but lack of forgiveness is going to destroy family life and slay the human spirit.

I was to later hear Jesus’ Prodigal Son story. My story was the reverse. My son reached out to me and to my other kids – and forgave us everything. In Jesus story, the father waited. In my story it was the father who was waited for.

Enough. I’ve talked long enough. Let’s keep these wagons rolling and get to whatever is our next. Right now Egypt looks promising, but who knows what might happen next?

Hey, you never know. You never know what’s next. Amen.

A THORN IN THE FLESH
WAS GIVEN TO ME

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is from today’s second reading, “A Thorn in the Flesh Was Given to Me.”

We all know the text. It’s like a thorn. It sticks us from time to time. It can also help us to be a rose – helping us to blossom and be more beautiful as a human being.

Past readers and preachers have planted this text in the soil of our soul. We know the reality of the garden: roses come with thorns.

CONTEXT

Today’s second reading from Second Corinthians has Paul saying, “Brothers and sisters: That I, Paul, might not become too elated, because of the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated.” “Elated” meaning too filled with myself.

He says he prayed to God three times – begging the Lord to get rid of this thorn, but the Lord said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

Paul was very smart in not telling us exactly what his problem was.

Down through the years there have been all kinds of guesses to what the thorn was: a hearing problem, epilepsy, stuttering, malaria, sex, someone or some faction in the Corinthian community that bothered him.

In one sense, it doesn’t make any difference. The key is to know our thorns – our issues – our problems.

I’ve heard married couples give presentations to those getting married and saying, “The 3 big problems in marriage are: money, sex, and in-laws.”

What would your list be? Name your problems. Name your discoveries.

Theologians would say, “Beware of the 7 Deadly Sins”. One of them is your nemesis.

What’s your problem? Besides chocolate, what’s your downfall? What’s your Achilles’ heel? What’s your fatal flaw? What do you confess to yourself in the confessional of your mind all the time – and over and over again?

PEOPLE AS THORNS

I remember listening to a mother talking to her daughter who was having trouble with someone at work.

Mom said, “Listen! Every work place, every team, every classroom, every group, every street, has someone who bothers someone – but it’s not always the same person – and it could be you.”

People can cut us in various ways.

So sometimes, it’s others; sometimes it’s ourselves.

And I have a theory – that the main thorn is within us – but if we can make the enemy someone out there, we can avoid facing our inner thorn – and we do this all the time.

If only he or she was gone – disappeared, everything will be all right. And surprise, if they go, disappear, move, graduate, die, their twin brother or sister moves in to take their place on our list of who and why we have a problem.

Surprise. We are repeat offenders – and it’s us.

Déjà vu is not only in our morning paper; it's also in our morning mirror.

Others would add – it’s one thorn after the other. We uproot one and another appears. So better get used to the reality: I never promised you a thornless rose garden.

THORNS

Writers – poets and song makers – from the beginning of time spotted those thorns on those roses – and made their comments – and sang their love songs about roses and thorns.

There is a German saying, “The rose hides the thorn.”

There is an Italian saying, “To water the rose, I have to water the thorn with it.”

John Keats, the poet, wrote that we spend our time with “the burrs and thorns of life.” [Sleep and Poetry, l. 239]

George Herbert, looking at his life, wonders as he bangs a table with his hand, “Have I no harvest but a thorn?” [The Collar]

Listen to the tone of these words from James Joyce from Dubliners – words where he mentions barren thorns, “Snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.” [“The Dead,” from Dubliners 1916].

THORNS AS PROTECTION

Just as the thorns are there to protect fragile roses, so too thorns protect us.

It’s smart to have healthy defense mechanisms.

It’s smart to know if we want to be better at tennis or ping pong or pool or bridge, we better be playing someone better than us, otherwise we won’t improve.

Hopefully, we all have or had teachers that challenged us.

Hopefully, there are people at work whom we keep learning from because we know they know a lot more than we know.

Recently I noticed in a Catholic magazine that Mikhail Gorbachev said he was willing to speak up in favor of Pope John Paul II in his canonization process. Mikhail Gorbachev said that John Paul II got him to be aware of the Holy Spirit – and God’s presence in strategic planning – still saying he himself was an Atheist. [The Tablet, June 6, 2009, p. 31]

After reading this, I did a tiny bit of research on Gorbachev and I found an interesting comment about the value of thorns. He once said to someone, “We have no opposition. How can we check on ourselves?”

Today’s gospel and today’s first reading both talk about the need for opposition - for prophets – people who will speak up to the powers that be – people who will be thorns – and sometimes they draw blood.

Gorbachev said that he pushed for Boris Yeltsin to speak up more, to present opposing views. However, when Yeltsin did this, Gorbachev said, “I should have listened to those who begged me to send Yeltsin as an ambassador to some country in Africa.”

Popes, presidents, pastors, preachers, parents, newspapers need voices of opposition – to make sure we do some second thinking about our life choices and life views.

It seems that Pope Benedict XVI slowed down the Beatification and Sanctification process for coming up with saints in the Catholic Church – a process that John Paul II had sped up. They used to have what was called, “The Devil’s Advocate” – but someone erased that office or function.

Every group – every marriage – every council – needs people who play the part of The Devil’s Advocate.

Notice in today’s second reading, Paul calls the thorn in the flesh, an angel of Satan.

Popes and presidents - any one in charge – needs to have thorns.

Too many “Yes People” – not enough of “No People” – can bankrupt a country – a family – a church.

Every person who is tempted to sneak off to Argentina or enter seedy Internet sites or journey into Sin, needs a thorny conscience to scream, “WAYNT?” What are you not thinking?

Notice the roses – but don’t forget to notice they all have thorns.

I don’t have a green thumb – but I read up on roses and thorns a bit for this homily and found out, you can dethorn roses – but they don’t last as long – in fact, thorns help with the water getting into the plant.

Paul found out in the midst of his thorny struggles - Grace - the gift of Christ - was flowing water - and it was sufficient.

CONCLUSION

This country is celebrating our 233rd birthday this weekend – our Independence Day.

Declaring Independence is easy – compared to the battles that follow.

Of course, the first step is to nail it down on paper what we want, but like a Wedding Day, it’s just an “I Do” or a “We Believe.” There is that second day when we have to work hard and long to achieve and continue Independence – and realize there are always going to be those bloody thorns – civil wars and civil rights’ battles – this and the wisdom found in a rose bush tells us, expect those sharp bloody thorns for a lifetime. Amen.

SAFE

I asked,
“Who are you?”

She said,
“Me? Oh, I’m a locked safe.”

Silence.

She continued,
“And I’m still looking
for the right combination.”

Silence.

“And I won’t give up,
because if it’s locked,
there has to be something
valuable inside.”

Silence.

“Right?”

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

BLUE ON BLUE

Blue! It has to be THE color.
No competition from Red or Green,
Yellow or Gray. No challenge.
Blue! It fits sky and Caribbean waters.
It fits mood and music – whether
one feels up or down. Blue!
Soft color. Liquid easy. Blue.
Who doesn’t hope for blue ink
to flow out of the end of a borrowed
ballpoint pen – as one writes down
directions or a message onto a pad or
onto bright white paper? Blue.
Who doesn’t like the blue speckles on a
Chesapeake Bay soft-shell blue crab –

even it they don’t even order

crabs off the menu?
"Blue!" she said, “That’s chauvinistic.
That’s a male talking – male thinking.
What about Pink." He laughed.
He smiled. “Come on. You know
everyone loves blue.

Even grey haired old ladies

love blue hair. In fact, they sparkle

in it. Blue! You agree? Right?
It’s THE COLOR. Sorry Red, Yellow,

Purple, Pink,, Orange, Black, White, Tan,

Brown, Gray, Rainbow lovers.

Think blue - "Blue on Blue"

Sing it, "Blue on Blue!" Good.
There you got it. Still feeling blue!

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DOUBTING THOMAS

My name is Thomas – and Mr. Ray Dondero invited me here today to tell you my story. Mr. Dondero’s wife, Claire, thought it was a crazy idea to invite me because I’ve been dead almost 2000 years – and with her cute smile she added, “And we’ve had enough dead preachers in our lifetime.”

Yet, Ray went to God and said, “You said, ‘Nothing is impossible with you, God,’ so could you send Thomas the apostle to give the homily at Heritage Harbor on the feast of St. Thomas – July 3rd, 2009”. And surprise, God said, ‘Why not?”

So here I am. Let me tell you some of my story. Oops, I asked Ray how long do homilies take in the year 2009? He said, “8 minutes at the most – unless you’re a Jesuit.” I said, “You’re kidding. Jesus used to speak 20 to 25 minutes, and his Last Supper Sermon went on through the whole meal, but who’s counting?”

Better get started.

My name is Thomas. It’s not my real name. It was my nick name. Like many folks in my time, we went by nick names. Thomas means “Twin.” I’m a twin – but my twin never had his 15 moments of fame. I didn’t plan on being known – or anything like that. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, because Jesus called me to follow him.

I had doubts whether this was a good move, but in the long run, it was the smartest thing I ever did. I had questions – and what I liked about Jesus was he knew how to use questions – to get people thinking. I felt quite stupid at times with my questions – but I realized this was how discipleship worked.

I understand you use the word “teamwork” today. We used the word, “discipleship”. Jesus called folks to follow him – to be his disciples. He taught us stories and teachings and healings – how to live and love one another. Then he sent us out two by two – and the rest is history.

Growing up my father taught us to ask questions. He would say, “The question mark is like a shepherd’s staff which has a hook on the end. It gets sheep out of ditches. Hooks, questions, will get you out of trouble. Instead of giving answers all the time, give out questions, and you’ll hook all kinds of answers.” At other times my dad would say, “Question marks are like fishing hooks. They catch fish?”

And I suspect Jesus the Carpenter loved fishing and shepherding more than carpentry. He often talked about catching fish and finding lost sheep. He found me. He caught me. And Jesus caught people with questions.

So I loved it when Jesus used me. I had heard what John the Baptist said, “I must decrease; he must increase.” That made sense to me – in marriage, at work, in life. It’s not about me. Hey, I knew early on that it’s about God and when I saw Jesus in action, I realized he was something special. I didn’t get him at first. And at times I had my doubts. I had my questions, but I kept following, and sure enough answers came. Jesus would wink to me when I set him up with a question for a great answer – and afterwards he’d come over to me and say, “Thanks for the setup Tom. Thanks for the set up.”

Wait a minute? You might be scratching your heads here, wondering what I’m taking about. I see some questions marks on your faces.

Check your Bibles. Remember that time when Jesus said at our Last Supper together, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” I think it’s in the gospel of John. I didn’t know John was jotting these things down in his memory at the time. He always looked like a dreamer to me. Well, Jesus then said, “You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many mansions. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you may also be. Where I am going you know the way.”

Jesus could be clear when he told his one liners, but this poetry stuff – could be too puzzling to me. So I said, “Teacher, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we knot the way?”

At that Jesus winked a “Thanks” to me as he said, “I am the way the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

These past 2000 years I have felt great because I asked the right question at the right time – otherwise people might never have the blessing of Jesus’ words, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” (Cf. John 14:1-7)

And I also looked stupid in the Upper Room that Easter Sunday night when I arrived back too late and they told me that Jesus had been there. He had risen from the dead. I said, “What? You’re kidding? Unless I see the holes the nails made in his hands… unless I can put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Well, you know the story? It made me famous. It gave me a new nickname that has been stuck on me ever since, “Doubting Thomas.”

And you know how Jesus came a week later into that same Upper Room. This time I was there thank God. Well Jesus singled me out after saying to all of us, “Shalom – Peace to everyone.” Jesus said, “Thomas put your finger here – in the wounds of my hands. Give me your hand. Let me put it in my side. Stop doubting; start believing.”

And I said, “My Lord and my God!”

And Jesus said, “You believe because you can see me. Blessed are those who have not seen and still believed.” (Cf. John 20: 19-29)

Let me conclude this way. I think I’ve been talking for about 7 minutes. I hope it doesn’t feel like eternity.

Well, for the past 2000 years in heaven, countless people came looking for me to thank me for allowing them to have doubts while they were alive. In fact, many whispered to me after looking both ways, “People thought I was rock solid sure with my beliefs, but Thomas, like you, I had my doubts. Thank God you had the courage to voice them.”

And after a great embrace they would leave saying, “So Thomas, thanks for speaking up for all of us who have had our doubts.”

Painting on top,

"Doubting Thomas"

c. 1597-1603

by Michangelo Merisi

da Caravaggio

(1573-1610)

DID JESUS?

Did Jesus find it difficult,
almost impossible, to find time
to look deep into the grains
of a newly cut plank of wood?

Did Jesus find it difficult
to walk by so many flowers,
so many shades of green,
so many birds in the air?

Did Jesus find it difficult
to walk by so many beggars,
so many widows, so many
children, so many cripples,
in the marketplace each day?

Did Jesus find it so difficult
that he had to burst out of
Nazareth that day – and walk
towards the sick, the beggars,
the difficult, and the wood?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

HIGH CHAIR

All my life I’ve been banging my spoon,
kicking my high chair, yelling for more:
food, attention, toys.
I’m sure family and friends,
will tell stories at my funeral,
how I was a real pain as a kid – “Huh!”
and all through the years as well.
Now alone, I sit with these thoughts,
on this couch facing the front door
of this nursing home.
I have to admit, I am still a pain,
but I’m no longer banging my spoon
or kicking my high chair for attention
or for food – just God. I just want God
and God’s meaning to this all.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

MY LIFE


Surprised
by YOU.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

SOME PEOPLE

Standing there listening to you
was like being attacked by a mosquito.
Your words kept coming, bugging me,
with no fresh breeze to keep you away,
your too many biting, “I... I ... I’s”

Standing there avoiding your eyes,
hoping you would fly away like the waitress
with the hors d’oeuvres. I don’t want
to nibble on your tiny tooth picked comments.
I just want to be here and enjoy the party.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

THE OTHER SIDE

A black fly lay there dead,
an upside down untouchable,
on my cold chipped,
white enamel window sill.

Undertaker, I picked you up
with a sheet of clean white paper,
with the plan of burying you
in the plastic bag
in my waste paper basket.

Suddenly, you moved.
You gave life one last dance,
one last chance, I guess,
to get beyond the window,
to get to where you wanted
to go in the first place.
Don’t we all? Don’t we all?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DISUNITED STATES

It seems to me that people
live in different states.
It seems to me
that’s what we all do.
How about you?
Where do you live
most of the time?

Of course we’re not always

in the same place or space.

We take vacations.

We take trains or drive
to different moods –so the saying,
“Lion at home; lamb abroad!”

Yet people seem to live

in one state most of the time.

What state are you usually in?

Optimist? Pessimist?

Right? Wrong?

Conservative? Liberal?

Up? Down? In? Out?

Talker? Listener?

Rich? Poor? In Between?

Stuck? Stupid? Free and Easy?

Use Labels? Hate Labels?


Me? Maybe you have to ask those
whom I live and work with for the
answer to that question.

Me? If I have to answer for myself,
I choose not to live in a Dark Mood
or Sad Brood, or Down State.
Of course, I cross those state lines

from time to time, but most of the time,

I chose to live in the state of Grace,

the state of Smile, Joy, Laughter, and Peace.

How about you? What state
do you live in most of the time?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DEATH

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Death.”

Yep, that’s the topic that hit me when I read today’s readings.

Death.

Then I said, “Uh oh! Death is not a theme for a summer Sunday sermon. Maybe an All Souls Day sermon in November when the leaves are falling from the trees – but not a summer Sunday sermon. [Say that 10 times fast!]

Yet, the theme of death still hit me. We’ve been having a lot of funerals lately – a lot. Was that the reason the theme hit me? Nope.

Then we have this upsurge of deaths in Iraq and there was endless commentary on the news about Michael Jackson’s death – with a few comments about Farah Fawcett’s death by cancer. Was that the reason I began thinking about death? Nope.

The other day I read the following quote by a man named Alan Harris, “The road to hell is littered with the manuscripts of church sermons written late on Saturday.”

Now that made me say, “Uh oh!” I do many Sunday sermons on Saturdays – sometimes late Saturdays – unless I have the 4:30 at St. John Neumann or the 5 here on Saturday evening. Then I do that sermon on Saturday during the day. I used to be able to write sermons well in advance, but ever since I got to St. Mary’s, I’ve found out. I can only do one at a time. Like yesterday I had to come up with two new homilies – each homily 3 1/2 pages long – for two weddings. Someone said, “Use the same homily for each wedding.” I answered, “They are two totally different couples.” And then there are homilies for weekday masses. That’s a lot of preaching. So with the 2 wedding homilies, I did 7 different homilies this past week.

Too much – the result being sermons without enough thought and prayer in them. Some might say, “No, you’re okay.” I say, “No. I need to do more reflection!" I know this place is very busy. So after some sermons, I’ve find myself saying, “You just gave sizzle, instead of giving steak.”

WHY THIS TOPIC OF DEATH?

Answer: the opening words of today’s first reading: “God did not make death…” hit me.

Those words stopped me. Those words call for a sermon of substance about death.

Guess what? Everyone here has to write that sermon – sermon meaning conversation – for themselves – because everyone has to deal with death.

We have to talk to God about death – our death and the death of others. And it’s my experience that we all think about death from time to time. The older we get, the more the theme of death knocks on our door. It might be triggered by seeing wrinkles on our skin on the inside of our elbow or it might be a class reunion and everyone looks so old.

I think of a sub-plot in the movie, Moonstruck, when Rose Castorini, played by Olympia Dukakis, wants to know why men cheat, why her husband Cosmo is cheating. She keeps on asking the question till someone finally tells her, “Death! They are scared of death.”

I think of men who are addicted to Internet porn. Are they also scared of dying without anyone loving them? Do they think by eating forbidden bytes on a computer screen someone will give them life – something will tell them they are still alive?

We have to come up with answers as well as new questions. We have to come up with words that make sense – words with insight – otherwise we might become angry people when it comes to sudden deaths, young deaths, or any death – including our own – if we’re aware it’s happening – because of cancer or what have you.

Today’s first reading from the Book of Wisdom gives the standard answer that God did not make death. We caused it.”

We find that standard answer through the scriptures. Today’s opening text is definitely teaching what the Book of Genesis teaches. God created this world – and all is good – and Adam and Eve were to live forever in this beautiful plush garden. There was no work – no problems – and death was not part of the story.

Then Satan, the adversary, crawls along the ground – a snake in the grass – and whispers to Eve to take a bite from the forbidden fruit. She falls. Adam falls. We all fell that day – and death became part of the package ever since. The egg was cracked. The gates were closed. Paradise was lost.

That’s the answer we find in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (#400) as well as our theology books.

God didn’t cause death. We caused death by sin.

WAIT A MINUTE!

As I found myself thinking about that, I found myself saying, “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I have to think about this a lot more. It’s Saturday night. It’s getting late.” Maybe Alan Harris was very right when he said, “The road to hell is littered with the manuscripts of church sermons written late on Saturday.” Preachers don’t give enough reflection, research and prayer to their sermons. I know I don’t. Sorry. And I’m not saying this so you will then say, “Father you’re doing fine.” I know that game – how to elicit support comments from people. I played that game at times when I was much younger.

So should I ditch the death question and go elsewhere?

I decided, “No! Give it a shot. It’s a lifetime question. You’re not going to figure it out on a Saturday night and solve it on a Sunday morning, but maybe you’ll figure out something new for yourself and in the process, maybe someone here needs to do some more thinking on the topic of death, a topic we all need to think about and bring to God from time to time.

SO THREE COMMENTS ABOUT DEATH

First of all I sort of don’t agree with the opening statement in today’s first reading – that God didn’t make death. I guess that makes me sort of a heretic. I’m not trying to get you to be a heretic too – but I can’t see how God isn’t in this mix and mystery somehow.

Okay, if God’s plan was – there was only going to be Adam and Eve – and a garden – then okay with the no death part of the story. I assume that the story tellers in Genesis are trying to figure out what we’re all trying to figure out: life and death.

Some science fiction writer could write a book about nobody dying – and everyone is eating good fruit in a plush garden with constant San Diego type weather. That means no wars – no fatal car crashes – no plane crashes – no cancer – no heart stoppage – no kidney failure and lots and lots of people.

Would there also be no nursing homes? Would we see 900 year old folks on skate boards? What would traffic be like? What would housing be like? How many people would show up for weddings and ball games?

So I assume God made us the way we are – and part of the picture is term limits and the numbers game.

Check the obituary columns or cemetery stones. Life has term limits. Or check the Biographical Names section in the back of any Webster Dictionary. 99 out of 100 names there have the two numbers and the dash in between. And we’ve all heard sermons about filling in that dash with a quality life – filled with love and compassion for our brothers and sisters – as well as gratitude to God for each day of life we have.

Second Point: the reality of death triggers powerful human reactions.

Would we go to a movie, if it didn’t have an ending?

What about jokes and sermons and Mass? There has to be endings.

Death – the reality and possibility of death triggers a zillion different things.

Anthony Dalla Villa, in his eulogy for Andy Warhol at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, New York City, April 1, 1987 said, “Death gives life its fullest reality.”

Marie Murphy, a theologian I know from Brooklyn, in her book, New Images of the Last Things, Karl Rahner on Death and Life after Death wrote, “Human beings long for completion. We want to achieve a definite end. Death is that act in which a person gathers his/her whole life and all that he/she is and says, ‘Here I am, Lord.’” * (p. 8)

Since we don’t know when we are going to die, the smart thing to do is make that our night prayer every night – and hopefully we wake up in the morning.

Third Point: Jesus’ death and resurrection can have a profound impact on our life. Yes, there is suffering and death, there is caring for loved ones, there is being there for them when they are sick and dying, but we Christians have the gift of faith that there is life beyond this life.

This is very significant and if you want substance, there it is.

Now in today’s gospel we have two people that meet Jesus – two people who need Jesus. Message we too need Jesus.

The first is Jairus, whose girl, about 12 years of age, is dying and Jesus goes to Jairus house and heals the girl.

The second is the woman who has suffered with blood, hemorrhages, for twelve years, and she touches Jesus’ clothes and she is healed.

Let me quote from a book entitled, Social-Science Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels by Bruce Malina and Richard Rohrbaugh. Their area of expertise and research is the First Century in the Mediterranean Basin. They write, “A twelve-year-old dying would have been a common occurence in antiquity. Through much of the first century, 60 % of persons born alive die by their mid-teens.” (p. 209) *

Think of that.

They write, “In the cities of antiquity nearly a third of live births were dead before age six. By the mid-teens 60 percent would have died, by the mid-thirties 75 percent and 90 percent by the mid-forties. Perhaps 3 percent reached their sixties. Few ordinary people lived out of their thirties.” (p. 211) *

This was the reality that Jesus walked in – Jesus who died around the age of 33 on the cross.

We live much longer. Question: Is it tougher for us to deal with a dying child or to have a lingering sickness of 12 years?

Each of us has to deal with these realities of sickness and death – and the Gospel message is to approach Jesus for help or reach out and touch him. Isn’t that what we’re doing here this morning?

Aren't we here for Jesus to heal and help us?

Don’t we all have inner aches and deep questions that have been flowing around inside our minds for 12 years and more?

The End.

* Dr. Marie Murphy, New Images of the Last Things, Karl Rahner on Death and Life after Death, Paulist Press, New York, Mahway, N.J., 1988, p. 8

** Bruce Malina and Richard L. Rohrbaugh, Social Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels, Fortress Press, Minneapolis, MN, 1992, p. 209, 211

DEATH

AND 

RESURRECTION

Each day is a gift.
Each death is a mystery.
Each tomorrow will be surprise.
Each resurrection because of Christ
will be our Easter suprise and mystery,
even though, as with Christ,
others will be crying at our grave.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DEAD FLIES

ON A WINDOW SILL

I once heard an anthropologist say,
“It was a significant day
in our evolution as humans,
when some hunters and gatherers
stopped to bury a dead one –
not just tossing him or her
off to the side of a path.

“They paused – prayed – said significant things.
They watered the ground with their tears.
They marked the spot – knowing next year
they would travel this same trail.”

As I thought about that, I wondered,
“Did someone take a tiny rock
from that place, put a hole in it
for a leather piece of cord and
then wear it around their neck?
Did they touch it in the times of missing?”

We are more than dead flies on a window sill.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

CRINKLE AND STATIC

IN THE AIR

Sounds like there are sounds, sounds,
sounds, everywhere – crinkle and static –
hum and jackhammers – someone trying
to get the last 4 potato chips
from the bottom of the bag,
the bag just a tiny bit bigger
than their hand. Then I hear a car alarm
going off from the street or somewhere –
sounds, sounds, everywhere.
Then a bird chirps a series of peeps,
taking me away from my inner chatting
about what happened last night.
So with all this crinkle and static in the air,
I find it difficult to listen to you.
Sorry. So could you tell me again
what you’ve been trying to tell
me all these years? Oh, you’ve been
trying to tell me the same thing
has been happening to you too. Oh, okay!

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

FATHER’S DAY

INTRODUCTION

Every Father’s Day in St. Joseph Parish they have a unique custom at the Father’s Day Mass. Instead of a homily, the pastor, Father Day, yes that’s his real name, has 3 fathers from the parish say a few words about what being a father means to them. Unlike himself and his homilies, Father Day asks each to say what they want to say in 3 minutes or less.

And just to cover himself, because only priests and deacons, are supposed to preach homilies at a Mass, he gives a few seconds homily. This Sunday he said, “Today’s Psalm Response says, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting.’ Let’s say that everyday, especially when the storms of life shake our boat as we heard in today’s Gospel, because we know Jesus is in our boat. He might be asleep, but he's in our boat.” Then he invited the 3 fathers to come forwards to speak one at a time.

This year I was able to get a copy of the 3 talks – saving me from having to do a homily this Father’s Day. So here are the 3 short talks. Obviously, it would be better for you to hear the talks in person – but this is not St. Joseph’s Parish.

FIRST FATHER: RICK JACKSON

Hello, Good morning. My name is Rick Jackson. I’m married to that beautiful woman there, Rita, who keeps me on the straight and narrow. She’s sitting there with our 3 wonderful kids, Rachel, Ricky and Robby. And notice she’s sitting there not smiling. In fact, she’s nervous because she knows I could make a fool of myself – that I might say something stupid and she’ll have to pick up the pieces.

Fatherhood. Fatherhood changed my life – with the birth of our first child, our daughter, Rachel. Before she was born, I kept hearing comments from the folks at work, especially dads, “Wow are you going to be in for a surprise! Everything changes when you have that first child.”

Well, everything did change. Schedules. Expenses. Cries and rattles in the night. At first I loved it. I loved saying, “Honey, relax, I’ll see why Rachi is crying” – and I would let my wife Rita sleep on. When our 2nd and 3rd kids, Ricky and Robby, arrived, this wasn’t as easy.

Fatherhood. I learned about giving. I learned about letting go – and life is impossible to control. I learned about surprise. I learned about God. Having kids got me back to church – got me to understand faith and hope and charity are important gifts to carry in one’s heart and mind.

Fatherhood. Fatherhood got me not only thinking about my dad, but it got me talking to him – like I had never talked to him before. Various guys had mentioned this, but hearing about something is nothing compared to experiencing something. So dad and I find ourselves comparing notes from time to time. Neat.

Fatherhood. What’s the biggest thing I experienced? I learned about what’s really important: God, people, my wife Rita, our kids, values, each day. I learned to be grateful – very grateful. So to you fathers here today and those of you who help kids and family: Happy Father’s Day – 2009. Thank you for listening.

SECOND FATHER: NELSON DANKSON

Hello, my name is Nelson Dankson. Hi and good day. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers here. I want to thank Father Day for this opportunity to say a few words about fatherhood.

Where to begin …. my father. Let me begin with my father.

He drove a long distance 18 wheeler – cross country – for a living. He was a high school graduate – a good athlete – loved country western music as well as my mom. We grew up seeing a great marriage – a great mom and dad who loved all 5 of us. My father was often on the road, but he made missing him worth while when he got home.

My mom and dad – as well as one of my brothers – have passed away. I find Father’s Day as well as Mother’s Day – tough days – because I miss them. We were a close family – and we still are – but when the two pillars fall, mom and dad, the house called family is never the same.

My wife Marsha and I wanted a big family, but we were blessed only with one kid: Jessica. We wanted more. Nothing happened. God had other plans.

In the short questionnaire that Father Day gave us, it asks: What qualities do you see necessary in being a good dad? What was your dad like? What do you want as your legacy? Who was the best father you’ve experienced?

My dad was the best. It’s great when you know that and can say that – and I often told him that – later on in life – before he died.

Legacy? Love.

Our daughter Jessica is a Marine in Afghanistan right now. How would she answer those questions? I’ll ask her when I talk to her this evening – when a call is coming through.

I would hope that our daughter saw my presence more than presents. I went to lots of boring basketball games – rooting for her teams. I learned that with little girls, winning or losing a basketball game was not as important as going out for ice cream afterwards – and having a good time. I learned how beautiful and how wonderful that look to the stands at a basketball game was. She always knew where we were sitting even though I am not a loud sports dad. My wife, now that’s a different story. I know she’s going to kill me afterwards for that one. She’s giving me the glance right now. Good thing, we don’t have the custom of yelling back at speakers at Mass. Back to the kid’s glance. At games, I found myself looking for that glance. It made our being there worthwhile. She became much more subtle with the glance towards us when she was in High School and the Naval Academy – but she always looked for us in the stands. Nice.

She taught me pride – true pride – value – true value – is not in the car or the house or the amount on the pay check – but it’s in one’s kids.

Now that she’s a Marine in Afghanistan, obviously, I am rather nervous – but we’re putting everyone there in God’s hands.

My wife Marsha and I were watching an episode of Foyle’s War – entitled “Broken Souls” on TV the other night – PBS Masterpiece Theater. No commercials. Great. It takes place during World War II in Britain. The theme they kept focusing on during this episode was chance. This Polish Jewish psychiatrist just happened to be in Paris at a convention when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939. He never got back home. He and his wife had met by chance on a trolley. He was recalling all these moments to Detective Foyle. He says, "Life is series of chance meetings.”

Afterwards, Marsha and I were talking about that. We had met by total accident – in an airport. There was this storm – and planes and passengers from all over the country were stranded there in O’Hare Airport in Chicago. We talked about how our parents met and their parents met and then Marsha said, “Wouldn’t it have great if someone had written down the answer to that question as far back as they could go?” We held each other on that couch filled with the thought that a lot of tiny moments had to collide with each other to get us to this moment of life on this couch together, June 2009.

So fatherhood, life, love, is chance and mystery, surprise and wonder, and please God, lots of wonderful what’s next’s because of lots of has beens. Bring it on God. Bring it on.

THIRD STORY: JERRY BUNSON

My name is Jerry Bunson. Friends call me "Bunny". I used to hate that, but I’ve grown used to it.

I am a single father – three daughters.

I am a single grandfather – thirteen grandkids.

My wife, Carol, died at 30 – cancer – painful uterine cancer – leaving me all alone – but gifting us with three daughters.

I felt overwhelmed – and out of sorts – but we did it – and all three girls, Teresa, Sarah and Jennifer have done wonderful.

If you’re going to be a single dad, if you’re going to be a single grandfather – let me tell you, have daughters. They are caring – concerned – and they call every day.

The calls weren’t always every day – but now that I’m 73 – they are wanted and waited for – except at the 9th inning of a baseball game or the 4th quarter of a football game.

Two of my daughters, Teresa and Jennifer live within an hour of me. Sarah is in Texas.

But I get to see all my grandkids – many times over and then some more. That generation is growing up and the first great grand kid is on the way – and I hope to babysit for my great grandkids.

What did I learn?

The answer to that depends on the decade and the moment.

Now I love to see new parents – to see kids cling to parents’ legs when strangers wave to them at church or at a game. I love to see how women have won – having domesticated their husbands to do stuff I had to do by myself as a single dad. In fact, my daughters used me as a wedge to get their husbands to do things they didn’t know they were going to have to do.

I love refrigerator pictures as well as these new 1000 flowing pictures in a frame. I never grow tired of looking at them.

My daughters wanted me to get remarried and I did some dates, but nothing worked – and I think I did well in life – with Carol my love – always in the main frame of my life.

With my daughters, I learned women are different – big time different.

I often wondered what it would have been like if we had three boys instead of three girls – but these gals, my three queens, were the cards we were dealt – and I learned to play the card game of life with them – and I won.

I learned that the happy ones over 60 – are the ones who pinch themselves with gratitude each day – at who they are, who they have been blessed with – and look at what they have – accept what happened – and are not looking at what they don’t have and what didn’t happen.

That’s why I like Fathers Day – one more chance to say, “Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you Carol for making me a dad three times over. See you one of these years – but not yet. There’s a lot more to see on how all this unfolds. In the meanwhile thanks for Teresa, Jennifer, and Sarah and all your grandkids. Amen.”

And thank you. Father Day, for this chance to let Rick, Nellie and myself to talk today on Fatherhood. Best of luck next week with your homily, Father Day. We'll be timing you. 3 minutes, right?

THE MOMENT

Does every marriage, every relationship,
have that moment, when we pop the
question – the real question,
“Do we have between us what will
keep us together till death do us part?”

Silence….

Does the other then say, “Years ago
we said, ‘Yes – of course!’ but now
the next question is: ‘What do we have?
What do we love to come home to?
We need to be specific.’”

Silence….

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009