Wednesday, August 30, 2017


IS  ANYTHING  SACRED

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this 21 Wednesday in Ordinary time is, “Is Anything Sacred?”

We were watching NCIS last evening. It was a rerun.

Gibbs disappeared - and they looked everywhere - till they discovered he had gone undercover for an old, old case. He had spotted someone from way back while looking out the window of the diner he often goes to.

Quinn and Bishop [?] are checking his house - to see if he was there - but they had no luck. 

However, Quinn broke a plate. Bishop said he can always get another one.

She could only see the underside of the plate - so Quinn said to her, “Not this plate.”  It was a plate that Gibbs’ little girl made  when she was in the 3rd grade and made it for her parents.  It had a kids drawing and writing on it.

The plate was sacred. The plate was special. The plate was unique.

HOUSTON FLOODING

We were also watching the evening news - earlier - and there were all kinds of scenes showing people with plastic bags getting into boats - heading for higher ground.

Imagine all the sacred photos, knickknacks, afghans from grandmothers, that people grabbed as the water was rising?

They were grabbing what they cherished as sacred.

ANY HOUSE

If you went into any house, any room of any person, and you would find out that everyone has their sacred treasures - that connect us to each other - often to people long gone.

What are your sacred items?

They are unique to every person. They are special to every person.

The title of my homily is, “Is Anything Sacred?”

If I can get a person to state that some object that they own is precious, sacred, unique, then I can point out an important teaching.

The message is this: we are the ones who consecrate the object.

We are the ones who make an object sacred.

Then I can jump to places. We all have sacred places - like where we proposed marriage to someone.

Then I can jump to people. We are the ones who name another person as sacred. That’s why we cry at a loved one’s loss.

That naming is stamping another person, place or thing - with sacredness and the naming is invisible.

YESTERDAY - A WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

Yesterday - after the Mass here for the juniors - I was standing in the back of this church - waiting to say goodbye to as many kids as possible - to wish them a good day and a good new year here at St. Mary’s.

A man walked in before the kids started down the aisle. He held up his cellphone to take a picture. I said, “If you can wait for 5 minutes, all the kids will be out and you can take a picture of the sanctuary up close.

The man said to me, “Today is our wedding anniversary. My wife and I were married here at St. Mary’s 19 years ago today.

Not all days are the same. Some days are more sacred than others.

The man told me that his wife and their 2 teenagers are over in Ireland for a 2 week vacation. He said he couldn’t go - but he would stay home with Mollie their little kid. Their little girl would cut down on the mobility of the 3 to so some neat traveling. He convinced his wife and Mollie that he would take Mollie to see Great Adventure - and be in Switzerland, Germany, France and Britain.

So I walked up front with the man and had his phone ready for the picture when Ginny said, “Let me take the picture. It’s not your talent.”

The guy stood there where couples stand every Saturday at a wedding. He took off his wedding ring and pointed it to the camera - and he said, “I’ll send this picture right to my wife in Ireland.”

It was a sacred moment.  It was in a sacred place. The guy wanted to share that moment - their day - with each other - in a unique way.

CEMETERIES

What triggered this thought for today was the first part of today’s gospel - Matthew 23: 27-28.  Listen to it again.

A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew

Jesus said, "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You are like whitewashed tombs, which appear beautiful on the outside, but inside are full of dead men's bones and every kind of filth. Even so, on the outside you appear righteous, but inside you are filled with hypocrisy and evildoing.

The Gospel of the Lord

Jesus must have been standing there and he spotted some Pharisees strutting - to make themselves  look better than others. Then he looked over his shoulders and spotted a cemetery - with it’s beautiful whitewashed tombs - but underneath there was the smell of death.

SACRED OBJECTS

I looked around my room and with this box I gathered a few sacred objects from my room.

Here is a porcelain cross that a little girl named Harper game me 3 weeks ago. She and her family life in London, but she wanted to make her first holy communion here in this parish. By this request - by this behavior - she’s telling me that she senses the sacredness of this place.

Here is a lapel pen - that has the fleur-de-ly on it. It looks just like the fleur-de-ly  lapel pins  from our parish. I put it on my suit jacket. Some little tiny kid came up to me after Sunday Mass and handed it to me. His parents said the family was in New Orleans  and they saw this New Orleans Saint lapel pin is the same as they have in St. Mary’s. Then he added, “And I want to buy this for Father Andy.”

That was at least 3 years ago. That’s how things and moments become sacred.

Next - about a month ago someone handed me a plastic bag of photographs and stuff from my sister who had died two and a half years ago.

Inside I found this envelope and on the outside it said, “Ring.”  Well I opened up the envelope and there it was, the Claddagh ring my sister Peggy, a nun, wore most of her life.

There is a world of difference between a Claddagh ring in a jewelry store than one that was on a person’s finger for most of her life as a nun.

Next - here is a small plastic bottle of prescription pills. It has an expiration date of September 1988. [SHAKE BOTTLE]. Now when I die someone will toss this out along with my prescriptions.

But this little bottle of cancer pills  was my brothers and when he died I took this out of the medical cabinet in his bathroom. [SHAKE IT]. It is sacred to me when he died of cancer at 51 years of age.

Notice this watch I’m wearing. It’s a Rolex. I met a man with a gold Rolex watch the other night. It was worth 25,000. Mine is $37 dollars. It’s fake - but it has more meaning to me than the $25,000 Rolex - which I had asked him to wear for 10 seconds.  Mine was lighter.

Which one is more valuable?

What would make a watch invaluable?

CONCLUSION

The title of my homily was, “Is Anything Sacred?”

My thought is: “Check everyone - and we will find out - ‘Everyone has some things they find sacred.’”

Then build on that and realize: Besides sacred things we all have our sacred places and persons.”


Building on that: pause before anyone thrashing or hurting another - or someone’s sacred places  - but especially another.

August 30, 2017



WHY  NOT?

Why not give it your best shot,
even if everything is against you?

Why not say, “Yes” - show up,
and maybe make a difference?

Why not go through the pain and
surprise that this might be your game?

Why not? This might be your chance
to have your Kirk Gibson moment?


 © Andy Costello, Reflections  2017


P.S. For the Sake of Transparency, I'm a Dodger fan - and I caught that Kirk Gibson moment in 1988.  I was all alone and hence I came up with a new definition for celibacy. "Celibacy is you're all alone. You're a Dodger fan. It's the World Series. Oakland is favored. And Kirk Gibson is following the game from the training room.  He was banged up and couldn't play the game. He gets off the training table - heads for the dugout and announces that he wants to pinch hit. There are two outs. It's the bottom half of the ninth inning. The Dodgers are losing 4 to 3 - with one guy on base!!!!!!


POST SCRIPT:

Check out the deja vu of the moment above.







Tuesday, August 29, 2017


HARBORING  A  GRUDGE

TRANSLATING MARK 6:19


INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Harboring a Grudge.”

Our New American Bible - the NAB - the one we use here for everyday Mass - translates Mark 6:19 - from the Greek - this way: “Herodias harbored  a grudge against him and wanted to kill him but was unable to do so.”

“Harboring a grudge.” Now that’s a picturesque English translation of the Greek - Mark 6: 19.

The Jerusalem Bible translates it this way, “As for Herodias, she was furious with him and wanted to kill him, but she was not able to….”

Another translation: “And Herodias set herself against him and wanted to kill him. But she was not able to do so.”

Another translation: “But Herodias  held it against him, and wished to kill him, and was not able.”

The New English Bible, NEB: ‘Thus Herodias nursed a grudge against him and would willingly have killed him, but she could not.”

The King James Bible,  “Therefore Herodias had a quarrel against him, and would have killed him; but she could not.”

The Phillips translation: “Herodias herself was furious with him for this and wanted to have him executed, but she could not do it.”

The Living Bible, which paraphrases the translation,  put it this way, "Herodias wanted  John killed in revenge, but without Herod’s approval was powerless.”

The Good News Bible: “So Herodias held a grudge against John and wanted to kill him, but she could not because of Herod.”

The New  Revised Standard Version - NRSV - “And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not….”

So “harboring a grudge” seems to be a good translation.

The Greek word used - “eneichen” - from the Greek verb “enecho” - is the only place in the Gospels - that this verb is used. Looking at all these translations, I would think “harboring a grudge” or “having a grudge” or “possessing a grudge” or “to have it in for someone” are good English translations.

NEXT - A POETIC WAY OF POSSESSING THIS TEXT

I don’t have a dog. I don’t want to have a dog. I couldn’t stand having the responsibility of having to take a dog outside for you know what - at different times of the day. Ugh.  I have enough things I am not doing that I’m supposed to be doing.

I see people with their dog - holding that leash - walking along near trees, lawns and bushes.

I picture every person on this planet - having at least one grudge - on a leash.  In other words, every person has  a dog name “Grudge” on a leash.


It’s a pit bull or a Doberman or a bulldog that barks….

We feed it, We pet it. We keep it in the dog house in our mind.

It could be what a parent or a teacher said to us 35 years ago. It could be a moment when we were dropped, dumped, fired from a job or a lover or a spouse or a child. It could be a resentment, a regret, a should have, a could have….

We all know our pet peeves - our major mistake or hurt or inner barker or growler.

And like Herodias - something is holding us back - our Herod - a voice that gives a treat to that grudge - that we might be a bit wrong about the fairness of our b [a five letter word we can’t use in the pulpit. Isn’t that another name for a dog?]
But sometimes we let that leash go and our grudge chops another person’s head off.

CONCLUSION


I hope now we know a bit more about Mark 6:19.
August 29, 2017





WALLS

Now why would anyone 
want walls?  Yet, looking
around, it seems there are
a lot of them  - and it also
seems they are expensive.


© Andy Costello, Reflections  2017

Monday, August 28, 2017


SAINT  AUGUSTINE 
A  REAL  SAINT 

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Saint Augustine: A Real Saint.”

Many lives of saints edit out some of their struggles and sins.

For example, in Ida Gorres’ biography of St. Therese of Lisieux, The Hidden Face, she  points out that Therese’s sister Pauline edited into her autobiography some “extra” stuff and edited out some of the characteristics they she wanted in and wanted out of  her autobiography.

They are also working on the beatification and then possible canonization  process for Dorothy Day in New York.

Cardinal Spellman is supposedly to have said about pushing the cause for the eventual canonization of Dorothy Day,  “Over my dead body.”

He’s dead too.

I would like to see her canonized to help all people who have had an abortion like she did - to have faith in recovering - as well as give good example to all those who want to help the poor like she did.

ST AUGUSTINE

Saint Augustine in his writings tells us of his sins. His Confessions and some of his other writings give us the real deal.

In his  Confessions  he said his worst sin was stealing pears and throwing them to the pigs. He and a group of kids went on a damaging property spree. They stole  the pears. He said his motive was to do evil. They did it out of spite and stupidity and non-thinking.

Everyone remembers Augustine’s prayer: “Lord make me chaste, but not yet.”

He started living with a  gal when he was 17 - and was faithful to her for the next 15 years. They had a son - Deodatus - Gift of God or Godsend.

He tells us about the power of humility being the foundation of human growth. The word  “humility” is from the word for humus - or earth.  We are made of the clay of the earth - to which we will return.

He admitted when he was dirty.

He struggled with his dirt.

He admits to loving God, but so, so late. We all know his comment, “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient and ever new! Late have I loved you! And, behold, you were within me, and I out of myself, and there I searched for you.”

He said, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” So he traveled the Mediterranean basin and learned so much.”

But he also traveled within - writing in his Confessions about the inside of his life. He wrote later on, “People  go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering.”

He wondered about himself and learned about God. He said, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

HOW TO READ AUGUSTINE

Read his Confessions.

Read Gary Wills book about Augustine. It's title is, Saint Augustine.

To become a saint takes time. It takes a lot of conversions.

Read the lives of saints. Read the Confessions of Augustine for  starters.

To learn takes reflection. Read Augustine and try to figure out what happened for him to say the things he said, to write the things he wrote.

For example, what happened for him to write, “Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.”

Or what was going on for him to write, “Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

Or “If two friends ask you to judge a dispute, don't accept, because you will lose one friend; on the other hand, if two strangers come with the same request, accept because you will gain one friend.”

Or, “He who is filled with love is filled with God himself.

Or The words printed here are concepts. You must go through the experiences.

I love this comment by Augustine. It is so real. "I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in either of them: Come unto me all you who labor and are heavily burdened."

CONCLUSION

The title of my thoughts was,  “Saint Augustine: A Real Saint.”


It seems that people can relate better to saints who are human and not angels. 


I think that's why folks like Pope Francis - and saints like Augustine.





Notes: the painting on top is entitled, "Augustine of Hippo - comissioned by the the NY Times to illustrated a book review by the Times
August 28, 2017


GOD

How far out, how far in,
do I have to go - till I meet
you, till I touch you, till I
know you - or do I just have
to sit and be quite or stop
to be with someone in pain
or poverty or persecution?



© Andy Costello, Reflections  2017


Sunday, August 27, 2017


SHEILA  SHELLINGTON


[The title of my reflection on today’s readings is “Sheila Shellington.” I read the readings a few times and decided to look at them by making up a story - to see where that would bring me. So here comes a story - triggered by today’s readings. This is total fiction - written today. I don’t know anyone named “Sheila Shellington.”]

Sheila liked her first name  - and she liked her family name, “Scout” - as well. She had heard that her great-great-grandfather was just that - a scout in the southwest - part Native American - part Spanish - and probably several other strains of DNA - but she hadn’t sent in her spit yet to AncestryDNA.com  to get that information. One of these days….

Sheila’s family settled in San Diego and there she met a Navy guy from Minnesota named Shellington. They married, had 4 kids, and saw the world in a 24 year career in the Navy. They settled in Maryland - near the water of course.
Sheila - like her husband Jack - became “Shellington”. It’s one of those last names that becomes a good nick name.

Shellington - that is Sheila - decided to make an eight day directed retreat in a Catholic retreat house in High Ridge, Tennessee. Their last daughter - Marcy left for college in August - and finally Sheila Shellington - could have some time for herself - before the next stage in her life.

Her husband - the original Shellington - told her, “Go for it!” He was Lutheran - understood Catholics a bit - went to the Lutheran Church when he visited his family in Minnesota - and went to Catholic Mass with Sheila and kids at different times of the year - especially on Christmas and Easter - like a lot of Catholics.

Sheila arrived at Transfiguration Catholic Retreat House in High Ridge, Tennessee on a Sunday afternoon. It was a long drive from Maryland  - but she broke up the trip by stopping to see an old friend that weekend on her way down to Tennessee from Maryland.

She was a bit nervous - not having made a retreat since her high school days in San Diego. Two friends had told her - how great an 8 day silent directed retreat could be. She finally got her chance to do it. She was there. She got a neat mountain view room.

Supper with about 30  strangers was a bit strange and strained. Small talk about family, careers and where folks were from - worked the room.

The opening session of the retreat took place at 7:00 that Sunday evening.

Before signing up, they were told to bring a Bible and they were told that there was to be silence for  8 days - except for a daily chit chat with one’s - one-on-one director for the retreat.

After the big opening welcoming session - part prayer and part information about a directed retreat - everyone was told to meet with one of the 6 retreat directors - right there in the big room. Twenty four people - men and women were making a retreat. They were told each director had 4 people whom they would meet with each day one to one. So Sheila and three other folks sat down in a corner with the  woman who was to be their director. Her name was Maud. She looked like she was in her mid-fifties - great smile. She welcomed the small group she would meet with each day for a one-to-one.

Maud said she would see two people in the morning and two in the afternoon. “Did anyone have a preference?”  Sheila got the second slot in the morning after a guy in his 70’s. He was a priest. She would find that out the next day.

Maud asked each of her 4 retreatants to read the Transfiguration story for starters and then added, “I hope at some point each of you will say to yourselves what the three disciples said in the Transfiguration story, ‘Lord, it is good that we are here.’

Then she handed each of her three retreatants an 8 ½ by 11 inch piece of paper with the Gospel text: Matthew 16: 13-20 on it.  One sentence was highlighted in yellow, “But who do you say that I am?”

Let the silence begin.  Let God do God stuff. Let us pray.

Right after that official opening, Sheila got a cup of tea and some chocolate chip cookies. She noticed that there was a big balcony just off the main room. She went outside, grabbed a comfy seat and relaxed on a balcony overlooking trees - lots of trees - and then some more trees - at High Ridge, Tennessee.

There was a porch light so she could read the story of the Transfiguration and she began thinking and reflecting.  She didn’t say yet, “Lord, it is good that I am here.”

She said that a bit during the week of retreat - but she would really say that years later - looking back on how much that 8 day silent retreat did for her.

Monday morning she got up early and had a great walk by herself exploring the retreat house grounds, paths, getting lots of dew on her walking shoes.

Breakfast was different - 30 some people sitting there in silence.

After breakfast she read Matthew 16: 13-20 and especially the yellow highlighted question, “But who do you say that I am?”

“Uh oh,” she thought, “How am I going to answer that to Maud - who will be directing me - when I meet her at 11 AM?”

“Jesus was the core of my faith.” She said that to herself.

“Jesus was Communion - Holy Communion. That is also central.”

Sheila started to tear - not cry.

She was to tell her director that morning about this moment - that she moved from Jesus as a thought - Jesus as an “about Jesus” to Jesus - as a real presence - right there, right now.

Sitting there in her quiet room - looking out at the mountains  - she felt the presence of Jesus - and she said, “I know you and I don’t know you.”

“Who are you?” she said to Jesus. “Who are you?”

She heard Jesus say back to her, “Who are you?”

She laughed - because she knew how her husband Jack and kids knew her and friends knew her.

But a lot of that was about her - but who she really was - Jack would come closest - because they talked a lot especially when the kids were away with friends. And Marriage is the great classroom - the great retreat house.

She said to Jesus in that room and she would tell this to Maud at 11 AM, “I’m me - basically happy me - great life so far me - been blessed - thank You God, and I want to do new  - better - for the rest of my life.”

She said to Jesus, “Sometimes I’m a question mark. Sometimes I am a period. Sometimes I’m an explanation mark. Sometimes I’m a blank. Sometimes I’m an erasure. Sometimes I’m a mistake. Sometimes I’m an asterisk.”

At 11 she met with Maud and told her this stuff. Maud was a great listener. “I guess that was how they train these retreat directors,” she thought to herself.

Maud told Sheila to stick with that question - the question she heard Jesus say to her “Who are you Sheila?” and wrestle with that for the rest of the day. Start this retreat  about herself - more than about Jesus. “Who do you say you are?”

Maud and Sheila stuck with that question not only for the rest of Monday - but continued with it Tuesday and Wednesday.

Then Thursday and Friday Maud directed Sheila to use that question for Jack and their 4 kids: Jack Jr. Tom, Mary and Marcy - along with her parents and siblings. “Who are they - really?”

On this retreat Sheila did her life - through people more than places and events.

Maud helped Sheila realize why God is Trinity - if that is possible to know the Trinity - that God is relationships - God is connection - God is continued inner talking and conversation - person with person.

Maud quoted Saint Paul’s comment in Romans 11: 33-36, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord or who has been his counselor?” and Maud had Sheila pray with that Bible text.

And Sheila thanked Maud for what they were doing all week. Wonderful.

Saturday and Sunday and into Monday when the retreat was over, Sheila was back to the Jesus question to her that they began with, “Who do you say that I am?”

Sheila paused. She knew Peter’s answer. It was on the paper.

In fact, she said to Peter, “Sorry Peter, I know Christ is the Son of the living God as you said to Jesus - and he gave you a cookie for such a great answer.” Nope I want to say to you Jesus what John said to you right there at the end of his  Gospel - when you Jesus met him and your disciples after his resurrection - up there on the Lake of Galilee. I want to say what John said, “Jesus You know I love you.” And he said that to you three times. And you said back to him three times “Feed my lambs…. Feed my sheep. Feed my sheep.”

And that’s what Sheila Shellington did for the rest of her life - starting with her husband Jack.

And as she drove home to Maryland - she realized that for one week - she was what her great-great grandfather was, “A scout.”

She had spent a week out of her life scouting the territory of her life so far  - and wow was it well worth it.