Tuesday, February 23, 2016

February 22, 2016



LIES ARE  LIKE  _____ 
CIRCLE ONE 


Lies are like razor blades - they can cut.

Lies are like snakes - poisonous at times.

Lies are like quicksand.

Lies are like a taser - they can leave a sting.

Lies are like chocolates - they call for another one.

Lies are like cinderblocks - with a rope.

Lies are like wearing dark sunglasses - covering those eyes.

Lies are like boomerangs.

Lies are like a rash - they make you scratch.

Lies are like a broken tape recorder - you can’t retrieve what you said in the first place.

Lies are like echoes - they continue.



                                                                                                           © Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Monday, February 22, 2016

THE  CHAIR  OF  ST.  PETER



INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “The Chair of St. Peter.”

Today we celebrate the Popes - those who filled the Chair of St. Peter.

Every year when we come to this feast I wonder what to preach about - I see the priest’s chair over there. Notice the arms.  Notice the cushy seat.

I’ve preached about important chairs at dining room tables - or meetings - and sometimes asked, “Who sits where on a round table?”

MANY POPES SO FAR

266 people sat in that imaginary chair.

Pius IX sat in it the longest - 31 years;  Next came John Paul II who was pope for 26 years. Add some months to each of those.

Urban VII resigned after 13 days and John Paul I lasted 33 days.

Saints and sinners sat in that chair.  I haven’t seen any of the TV series on the  Borgias - but we know that 3 Borgias were popes. And Rodrigo  Borgia, Pope Alexander VI, is listed as one of our badies. And we know that 4 popes were Medici - two of which:  Leo X and Clement VII are in list of the Top 10 worst popes.

I’ve heard variations of the story about Napoleon claiming that he would destroy the church and the papacy and Cardinal Consalvi said, “Best of luck, the popes and the priests couldn’t do it.”

And I remember hearing in a sermon about the old little old lady from Jersey City who said that the 5 marks of the church are: one, holy, Catholic, apostolic and it survives its clergy.

WE’VE BEEN BLESSED

In our lifetime, we have certainly been blessed with a line of good popes - different - but good popes.

I’ve see Pius XII, John the 23, Paul VI, JP 1 and 2, Benedict and now Francis. Did I miss anyone?

If we sit back and look at those who have sat in the Chair of Peter, we can see differences. So too Pastors. So too priests. So to presidents, governors, mayors, bosses, neighbors.

As Catholics we’re blessed to have someone in the top seat.

We pray that they give good example and good wisdom.

I have lived here at St. Mary’s Annapolis with 3 pastors now, Father Sweeney, Father Kingsbury and now Father Tizio. All are different - all have their off on’s - all have their strengths and weaknesses. So too bishops. So too bosses and presidents of our organizations.

I would assume we all get that.

I would hope that all of us when we are the chair of an organization - learn from Peter and from Jesus and good popes - that we’re in it for service and as good Shepherds of the flock.

I would assume we become aware of our weaknesses - or where we need others with other skills to work with.

This present pope is off on his themes and values: mercy, forgiveness, and understanding. Don’t judge. Smell like the shepherd - in other words get off the dais and the podium  and get out of your seat and be with the sheep. Sweat. Work. Give.

CONCLUSION

In the meanwhile, I am happy as Catholics we have a head - a pope.



Wouldn’t it be great if the Muslims and other religious groups had a “pope” - a “papa”, a head guy or gal. I would hope that then things would work easier and better because we could meet and talk, chair to chair, eye ball to eye ball. Amen.

DAZZLING WHITE 
OR TERRIFYING DARKNESS?


INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 2nd Sunday in Lent, Year C, is, “Dazzling White or Terrifying Darkness?”

Today’s first reading and today’s gospel mention two realities: “Dazzling White or Terrifying Darkness?”

TWO SCENES, TWO SENTENCES

In today’s first reading - Genesis 15: 5-12, 17-18,  we have a very mysterious scene. 

We also have a mysterious sentence, “As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him.”

What was that like?

In today’s gospel - Luke 9: 28b-36 -  we have another mysterious moment.

We have these two sentences:  “Jesus took Peter, John and James and went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white.”

What would that be like?

SOME QUESTIONS

Looking at our life, when have we had similar moments: moments of dazzling white and moments of terrifying darkness?

The birth of a child – a beautiful baby –   the death of a child?

The wedding - the divorce?

The getting of a job - the being fired or let go?

The game winning shot - the strike out or missing the extra point?

The walking the beach in a bathing suit at 18 and the walking the beach in a bathrobe at 78?

The honeymoon - the funeral of a spouse?

TRANSFIGURATION AND DISFIGURATION

The gospel scene is a transfiguration moment and the disciples say the obvious, “Master, it is good that we are here.” They want to pitch tents and stay there.

Of course, highs are nice. It sells fine wines, lottery tickets and café mocha or café latte. It’s nice when our team wins it all. It’s nice when all is going right – when all is dazzling bright. New cars have that smell and that dazzle – for a few weeks at least – and I imagine in a Hummer or a Mercedes or a Lexus, the high lasts much longer - at least to those of us on the sidewalk watching.

The Abram scene is a disfiguration moment – where Abram sees birds of prey swooping down and eating the animals of sacrifice.

Wow! Woo! An ugly scary scene.

Lows can disfigure our face. We walk into a room and people seeing us just know something is wrong. Somebody died. Someone got hurt. Something went wrong. Lows can devour our spirit like birds of prey swooping down and biting us.

Paradoxically, the first reading also gives a vision of great hope: God asks Abram to step out of his tent and “Look at the sky and count the stars, if you can.” Then God adds, “Just so shall your descendents be.”

And paradoxically, the gospel, after the moment of great light, there comes a great shadow.

So life is like that line we want to see on the monitor when we’re in the hospital. If it’s flat, we’re dead. Life is the ups and downs – mountains and valleys – highs and lows. Roller coasters are exciting because of their ups and downs – the morning train ride is flat and just another way to get to work.

Both readings, both scenes, leave those who experience them – in silence. The highs and lows of life have an aftertaste of silence.

I’ve noticed that literary people love George Eliot’s words from her novel, Middlemarch, “If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heartbeat, and we should die of that roar that lies on the other side of silence.” 

Isn’t that a great quote?

When we become silent, reflective, we get that. 

It's morning - early morning. We're on vacation with the kids and we get up ahead of everyone. We can hear that roar on the other side of silence when we are walking or simply sitting at the beach.

Or we’ve heard that roar on the other side of silence when we saw a dead squirrel on the street. Life ended horribly for the little furry creature. 

We’ll be hearing that roar again this spring – or anytime, if we garden or walk or look at the night sky or morning sunrise or fish or kayak or rollerblade or listen to classical music or read a good novel or paint or sit in the mall or airports or downtown Annapolis and watch the world in progress.

LENT AND SILENCE

Obviously, one of the things to do in Lent is to fast from talking and fasten the mouth shut – and listen. 

Be quiet and hear God. Be quiet and hear each other. Be quiet and hear one’s own heart. Hear what’s on the other side of silence.

I am an advocate of walking prayer – no iPods – no music – just quiet walking. Watch. See. Listen. God is a mighty roar on the other side of silence.

Quiet Waters Park – the Naval Academy – your neighborhood – the mall – a treadmill – where do you walk?

Lent is a time to listen – to life’s great mysteries.

Last week Jesus took us into the desert.

This week Jesus takes us up into a mountain.

Next week we’re going to hear about a garden where there was a fig tree that wasn’t producing figs.

The fourth week in Lent, we’re going to go to a house where there were two sons and an extraordinary father – and the younger son leaves home and everyday the father looks down the road for his return – while the oldest son is furious - because his dad isn't noticing him and all that he's doing.

The fifth week in Lent, we’re going to go to the Mount of Olives and we’re going to be there for a fascinating scene where a woman is dragged before Jesus by men holding stones to kill her – because she was caught in adultery. Were they scared she might talk? Or were they using her in hopes they could kill the silent roar called Jesus?

Then the following Sunday we’re going to reach Palm Sunday and Holy Week, which begins with Jesus having a great high – the crowd screaming, “Hosanna in the highest!” but by the end of that week he’s in deep darkness – especially on Good Friday afternoon when all the lights went out.

Dazzling light and terrifying darkness is the stuff of Lent and life.

CONCLUSION

There’s an interesting word in today’s first reading that gives an image that can pull this all together. Maybe. Or maybe it’s too far fetched. You be the judge.

The word is, “enveloped”. It’s in that sentence I quoted at the beginning of this homily. “As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him.”

I accidentally pronounced “enveloped” “nvelope”.

Maybe much of our life feels like we’re in a sealed envelope – that’s dark inside – being sent all over the place. We’re inside. We’re in the dark about what’s really happening in life.  And every once and a while, it’s good to step aside – to slit open the envelope and see what’s inside – to read the contents of the letter called me.


Lent is one of those moments – to hear – “you’ve got mail” and to find a quiet place to open up and read our letter, our story to ourselves – where we’ve been and to check the address on the front of the envelope – to see where we’re headed. Amen. Is it the right address?

Sunday, February 21, 2016




TWO  MINUTE  HOMILY: 
LAST WEEK, THE DESERT,  
THIS WEEK THE MOUNTAIN  

Last week we went through the First Week of Lent.

The Sunday gospel brought us into the desert with Jesus and with Jesus we dealt with or at least looked at the devil and our demons - especially our 3 top demons and destructive temptations and tendencies. They differ with different people. But if we put the Lord our God - first - as our first choice - then we can deal with desert moments in our life - moments when we feel alone or deserted or burnt out.

This Sunday - as we enter into the Second Week of Lent - we find ourselves on a mountain - which is much different than a desert.

We need both types of moments. 

This week let’s look at big picture moments - mountain moments in our lives - family celebrations - anniversaries - Thanksgivings - Christmases - vacations - weekends - when we say what Peter said, “Lord it is good we are here!”

This week let’s look at not just our struggles, our temptations, but also our highlights - but like last week - to see Jesus in these moments.



This week let’s picture ourselves - with a big picture - with mountain top view - and hear God our Father say to us about Jesus in our life, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”
February 21, 2016

QUIRKS

Ask a friend, someone you trust,
if they see any quirks in you.

What?

Yeah, ask someone - someone you trust -
if they see any interesting quirks in you?

Why would anyone ever want to do that?

Well, maybe it might open up a few doors
or windows to what’s going on in you.

As to asking yourself about your own quirks,
I’m not so sure about that. Quirks are all
about traits, peculiarities, others see in us.

Like tap, tap, tap with our teeth when nervous.

Like pulling an ear lobe when so and so speaks.

Like yawning every other time when I speak.

Like going "hummm?" when turning door knobs.

Like adjusting the rear view mirror every time
your beloved is about to start the car. Every time.

Quirks?  Some are funny. Some obnoxious.
Some unique. Some strange - very strange.

Quirks? Be kind to me. This is the real me inside
me; sometimes I get nervous about what’s next.
    

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Saturday, February 20, 2016

February 20, 2016


BUZZ

A fly just buzzed me -
coming out of nowhere.
What’s he doing around
here in February?
Why didn’t he fly south
like everyone else and
avoid this cold winter?
I don’t read horoscopes,
but is there any other
buzz  I’m in for?
February needs all
the surprises it can give.



© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016

Friday, February 19, 2016

February 19, 2016


DRAINED

I see people that drain me as
I cross the threshold of a room.
Inwardly comes an, “Oh no!”

Obviously, I don’t like all this.
Obviously, I don’t voice this.
Obviously, I move to a wall.

Questions: Why? Why? Why?
Does anyone else feel this way? 
Maybe I'm a pain and drain others?





© Andy Costello, Reflections 2016