REMEMBER THAT 

YOU DID IT

Poem for March 15, 2014

TANIST

Remember the spider
Weaving a snare
- And that you did it
Everywhere:

Remember the cat
Tormenting a bird
- And that you did it
In deed and word:

Remember the fool
Frustrating the good
- And that you did it
Whenever you could:

Remember the devil
And treachery
- And that you did it
When you were he:

Remember all ill
That man can know
- And that you did it
When you were so:

And then remember
Not to forget
- That you did it
And do it yet.

(c) James Stephens 

[1880-1950]

From page 676 of 1000 

years of Irish Poetry.

FAIR – UNFAIR

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this Friday in the First Week of Lent is, “Fair – Unfair.”

My main stress will be on “Unfair!”  - because we think that – we scream that – we say that - much more than we say, “Fair!”

“Unfair!” is one of life’s deepest screams – one of life’s most basic sounds – erupting from down deep inside each of us – from time to time.

Listen to little kids - as they interact with other kids - especially brothers and sisters - and parents - and you'll hear the "Unfair!" scream.  If we're saying it at 3,  it can be cute; if we're saying it at 73, we might be in down deep trouble.

“Unfair!”

We scream it at God – parents – kids - brothers - sisters – teachers – coaches – traffic – life.

If you need to hear this sermon more than others – listen up!

The title of my homily is, “Fair - Unfair!”

EZEKIEL

It’s an issue we hear about in today’s First Reading from the Prophet Ezekiel 18: 21-28.  That’s why I’m preaching on this theme today.

Ezekiel hears people saying – praying – screaming at God: “Unfair! The Lord’s way is not fair.”

He responds with this reaction. “You scream and hurl that  ‘Unfair!’ at God. Well, let me tell you who is unfair.”

In other words, he’s saying, “Let’s go to the Video Tape. Look at your own life. Ask yourself:  ‘Does God hurl that “Unfair!” back at the one who screams “Unfair” the loudest?’”

Do we ever say “Thanks” to God for blessings – for our situation – for our blessings?  Do we only appear at God’s doorstep when things are going wrong – when we feel we’re getting a bum deal?

So the title of my homily is, “Fair - Unfair!”

TWO EXAMPLES FROM MY BROTHER

Here are 2 examples from my brother, Billy, 2 examples that are true.

First example…. He loved to tell about the time he was driving along this road – single lane – both sides. The speed limit is 50 MPH. He comes up behind a police car – which is going exactly 50 MPH.

My brother wishes the cop would speed it up. Nope.

My brother says that he looks in the rear view mirror. He now sees two cars right behind him. Then 3 …. Then 30.

The cop continues going 50 MPH.

My brother decides to pass the cop.  He waits for the next clear chance – no cars coming towards him from the other side – and the lines indicate – split lines – one can pass – and he makes his move around the police car.

As soon as he does it, the police car’s lights start flashing…. And the cop pulls him over.  All 30 cars then pass – surely with smiles on their faces.

My brother opens up his car door and starts running towards the police car – something you’re not supposed to do. He has his arms up in the air – like someone arrested or someone who got a field goal in football. He wants to try to reach the police officer before he starts writing down a ticket for speeding.

The cop lowers his window and my brother protests, “Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!”

The cop pauses and smiles and says, “You’re right. No ticket.”

My brother loved to tell that story.

Second example, second story…. The first story was told by my brother. This story is about my brother.

At his funeral someone read a letter which had this second story. It was from a young man named David Goldberger. He was the son of my brother’s best friend, Marty Goldberger. He was on a Kibbutz in Israel at the time and couldn’t make the funeral – so he sent the letter.

In the letter he told this second story about my brother. David said he was 7 years old at the time. My brother showed up at their house. David was playing ping pong with his dad. Well, my brother says to David, “Can I see that ping pong paddle.”  He hands it to my brother – who  then says to Marty, “3 over to see who serves.” 

At that,  David says, “Hey Mr. Costello, wait your turn to play winners. My dad and I are in the middle of a game.”

David continues in his letter, “Mr. Costello totally ignores me and again says, ‘Three over to see who serves first.’ Well, my plea didn’t work, so I said,  ‘Mr. Costello, that’s not fair.’ At that, Mr. Costello stops and says to me, 'David, let me let you in on one of life's greatest secrets: "Who says life is fair?" Then once more he says to my dad, "Three over to see who serves, Marty.'"

Then David said in his letter. “He was right. I didn’t know it then, but in time I discovered, life is not fair.”

The title of my homily is, “Fair – Unfair.”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

In today’s gospel from Matthew 5:20-26 we hear Jesus talk about anger – and not showing up at worship filled with anger. Jesus says, "If angry, leave your gift at the altar – and go first and be reconciled with your brother – and then come and offer your gift.”

Well, there are a lot of people who come to church – and go through life filled with anger – at God, at parents, at brothers and sisters, at all kinds of different folks – who have been part of their lives.

They feel they got a raw deal from God.  They feel they got a raw deal from their parents or whomever – and it ruins their lives.

I’m saying in this homily that the down deep root of a lot of their anger is this feeling that they were treated unfairly.

Jesus is giving great advice here: let it go.

Easier said than done.

SOME UNFAIRNESS ISSUES

Now it’s been my experience there are something’s we can let go of and there are something’s that are very difficult to let go.

Name your poisons. Know your buttons.

If by now we have a handle on this issue of deep seated unfairness issues – good – but then we have to learn to avoid folks who haven’t.

Now some unfairness issues are not that difficult to master.

We’re in the movie and we say, “Great nobody is sitting right in front of me.”  Surprise in walks a 6 foot 8 guy – who sits right in front of us.

I don’t know about you, but I like the end piece of the meat loaf – as well as the end piece of any loaf of bread – sliced or non-sliced.

Sometimes we run into a teacher who just doesn’t like our style – so too a coach – so too a play director.

Sometimes a referee makes a call – that is blatantly wrong.

“Unfair!”

Then there are deeper issues that trigger deeper unfairness screams.

We might have acne forever or we’re too short or we get cancer or someone who is drinking crashes into our car – and we get a bad back forever.

Who said life is fair?

CONCLUSION

In Office Depot or Staples – you can find those stamp gadgets – that need an ink pad.

I think some people have inside their minds a stamper that says, “Unfair!” and they go through life driving themselves nuts because they spot unfairness 24/7/365 and stamp everything with that UNFAIR stamper.

I suggest tossing that UNFAIR stamper and get one with the word, “Acceptable” or “Compromise” or “Adjusting” on it.

In other words to come up with some personal way to deal better with the unfair situations of life. Amen

SOME TIMES 

THE LAST SHALL BE FIRST 

Poem for Today - March 14, 2014

THE LAME GOAT

You've seen a herd of goats
going down to the water.

The lame and dreamy goat
brings up the rear.

There are worried faces about that one,
but now they're laughing,

because look, as they return
that goat is leading!

There are many different kinds of knowing.
The lame goat's kind is a branch
that traces back to the roots of presence.

Learn from the lame goat,
and lead the herd home.

(c) Rumi

THE STORY 
OF A LIFE

Poem For Today - March 13, 2014

THE SYCAMORE

for Harry Caudill

In the place that is my own place, whose earth
I am shaped in and must bear, there is an old tree growing,
a great sycamore that is a wondrous healer of itself.
Fences have been tied to it, nails driven into it,
hacks and whittles cut in it, the lightning has burned it.
There is no year it has flourished in
that has not harmed it.  There is a hollow in it
that is its death, though its living brims whitely
at the lip of the darkness and flows outward.
Over all its scars has come the seamless white
of the bark. It bears the gnarls of its history
healed over. It has risen to a strange perfection
in the warp and bending of its long growth.
It has gathered all accidents into its purpose.
It has become the intention and radiance of its dark fate.
It is a fact, sublime, mystical and unassailable.
In all the country there is no other like it.
I recognize in it a principle, an indwelling
the same as itself, and greater, that I would be ruled by.
I see that it stands in its place, and feeds upon it,
and is fed upon, and is native, and maker.

(c) Wendell Berry, 

Collected Poems, 

1957-1982, page 65

GETTING THROUGH THE STORM 

Poem for today - March 12, 2014

Blind Curse 

You could drive blind

for those two seconds

and they would be forever.

I think that as a diesel truck

passes us eight miles east of Mission.

Churning through the storm, heedless

of the hill sliding away.

There isn’t much use to curse but I do.

Words fly away, tumbling invisibly

toward the unseen point where

the prairie and sky meet.

The road is like that in those seconds,

nothing but the blind white side

of creation.

                   You’re there somewhere,

a tiny struggling cell.

You just might be significant

but you might not be anything.

Forever is a space of split time

from which to recover after the mass passes.

My curse flies out there somewhere,

and then I send my prayer into the wake

of the diesel truck headed for Sioux Falls

one hundred and eighty miles through the storm.

© Simon J. Ortiz

  “Blind Curse”

from After and Before

the Lightning (Tucson:

The University of

Arizona Press, 1994). 

                           

              DO ALL WORDS LAST?

INTRODUCTION

The title of homily for this Tuesday in the 1^st  Week  of  Lent  is, “Do All Words Last?”

TODAY’S FIRST READING FROM ISAIAH

In today’s first reading from Isaiah 55:10-1, Isaiah dramatizes the Lord saying that his words will last. They are not voided. They do the Lord’s will. They achieve the end for which they are voiced, sent.

We know that Jesus pondered Isaiah’s words - words that lasted for centuries - by word of mouth first and then written in ink on scroll and book - up till our time.

I like Bibles that have those little tiny references to other texts along side the texts. The Jerusalem Bible is the best for this in my opinion.

We were taught that the Bible - contains echoes of earlier texts - over and over again. It’s not plagiarism. It’s referals without quotation marks.

Those then who mark these echoes with tiny text references make it easier to hear these earlier sounds. It wasn’t till the early middle ages that chapter and verse numbers were added to our Bible.

I love the scene in the Gospel of Luke where Jesus walks into the synagogue  at Nazareth - and they hand him a copy of the written scroll of the words of Isaiah. He unrolls the scroll and voices words from Isaiah 61:18-19. He uses them for his inaugural address:

The spirit of the Lord has been given to me,

for he has anointed me.

He has sent me to bring the Good News to the poor,

and to the blind, sight,

to set the downtrodden free,

to proclaim the Lord’s year of favor.”

Then Jesus went out and made those words flesh.  Or as they say in 12 Step Language, “He talked the talk, then he walked the walk.”

The title of my homily is, “Do All Words Last?”

Isaiah’s words - become Jesus’ words. Then when we make those words real in action, we are helping to make those words last.

Mary is the model for all this. She said, “Let it be done to me according to your word.” Then the Word became flesh in her and lived among us.

Do all words last?

An “I love you!” lasts - and sometimes an “I hate you!” lasts even longer.

Think back on life!  Which words last? What words do we remember all our life?

Words can  be like tattoos - they last on the inner skin of our mind and memory  - for better or for worse - forever.

To replay and make a play on e.e. cummings famous words, “be of love a little more careful than anything” - we can say, “be of words a little more careful than anything.”

Don’t we all remember from grammar or high school Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “I Shot An Arrow Into Air”?

THE ARROW AND THE SONG

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend. 

Isaiah in today’s first reading saw rain and snow come down from the sky - and watched their impact on the arid soil of Israel. 

I once preached in the Tucson, Arizona area for 2 weeks - and I was hoping, hoping, hoping for rain, because I heard when one wakes up the next day, one sees that the desert has bloomed. Didn’t happen.

Isaiah is comparing rain and snow to words - falling down on people - changing them - helping them blossom.

Isn’t that why we read the scriptures? Don’t we want good words to rain down on us? Isn’t that why we read good books and magazines, listen to good music, attend lectures, talk to each other, so we can flourish.

Isn’t that why we pray - our own prayers - or Jesus’ prayer as we heard it in today’s gospel, “the Our Father.”

CONCLUSION

Today - may our words - be words that lift those we’re with - words that are made of oak - words that grow and stand tall in the woods of each other. Amen.

UNLESS YOU WALK 

IN MY SHOES ....

Poem for Tuesday - March 11, 2012

MY SHOES

Shoes, secret face of my inner life:

Two gaping toothless mouths,

Two partly decomposed animal skins

Smelling of mice-nests.

My brother and sister who died at birth

Continuing their existence in you,

Guiding my life

Toward their incomprehensible innocence.

What use are books to me

When in you it is possible to read

The Gospel of my life on earth

And still beyond, of things to come?

I want to proclaim the religion

I have devised for your perfect humility

And the strange church I am building

With you as the altar.

Ascetic and maternal, you endure:

Kin to oxen, to Saints, to condemned men,

With your mute patience, forming

The only true likeness of myself.

© Charles Simic