HOLY  SATURDAY: 

THE  SILENCE  OF 

SOME  SATURDAYS

The title of my reflection for this morning is, “Holy Saturday: The Silence of Some Saturdays.”

Saturdays are interesting days!

Some Saturdays we just want space, quiet, no interruptions.

Maybe to fix something - to  get a part for something that is broken.

Maybe to just relax, catch up, just be.

Or to break the day up: to do some shopping, some visiting, some different stuff. Then there are long weekends - like  the  Saturdays on Memorial Day or Labor Day or Presidents day weekends.

Then there is a Saturday with a wedding - or an anniversary.  Sometimes we look forward to those Saturdays; sometimes we don’t - depending on who’s getting married or whose celebrating their  25^th or 50^th anniversary. Feelings about time and money and others can be terribly subjective.

Then a funeral happens - and often it’s on a Saturday.

TITLE

The title of my reflection is, “Holy Saturday: The Silence of Some Saturdays.”

This day - Holy Saturday -  sort of mugs or dulls us - sort of like after a death in the family.

Funerals often make us more silent and more quiet - and often they are inconvenient - like  a funeral on a Saturday morning.

We do the whole funeral thing - with various types of emotions - and then people get moving back home - sometimes a good distance - and we’re all sort of alone - with post funeral feelings.

A funeral can be high energy, high maintenance, and then there’s the low after the high.

We met up with cousins, aunts, uncles, friends of our mom or dad or close friends of the one who died.

Or deaths remind us of other deaths - or selfie thoughts about our life.

If we were very close to the person who died - it’s then we need some private time, silence, space, to pull together what we just went through with a funeral of a close family member

This day, Holy Saturday, is just sitting there between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

And we Christians are reflecting on Jesus’ death.

The whole world of the apostles and the disciples had  caved in.

Their Lord, their savior, their Messiah, has just been arrested - put on trial and then railroaded to death on the cross on Calvary.

They weren’t ready for this - anymore than any of us are with a family death - especially when it’s too sudden, too quick, too much of a surprise.

The disciples had guilt - that they panicked and ran. The apostles had to deal not only with the death of Jesus - but also the death of Judas.

What about Mary? Yes. And yes about the other Mary and the other women who were much better about being present with Jesus - under the cross - than the apostles.

What about us?  The apostles still feared, “Are they going to come after us?”

They hid in the locked Upper Room as the scriptures tell us.

Thank God for Joseph of Arimathea. He was a secret follower of Jesus as well as a member of the council who condemned him to death: the Sanhedrin. Luke and Mark and Matthew tells us he went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Good move. He got Jesus’ body and put the dead body of Jesus in a tomb that was never used.

So thank God for Joseph and  John and the Holy Women - they are like soft background music on Calvary and the next day Saturday till Easter Sunday morning.

We need the rest of Friday P.M. - after Jesus’ death - and then all day Saturday to get us to Easter and Resurrection.

John and his gospel tells us that John was pondering all this - in this mulling time called Holy Saturday.

We need pausing time. We need space after tragedy. We need silence after the noise.

We need the brief words from Hosea which we heard in this morning’s short reading: He will revive us after two days; on the third day he will raise us up to live in his presence.

We need cryptic Old Testament prophetic words like that - to get us through post funeral type days when we’re quiet - when we need to make great acts of faith in Jesus - the Risen One - who can get us through the pain and the quiet - of Holy Saturday type days. Amen.

March 31, 2018

Thought for today: 

“Do not leave my hand  without  light.” 

Marc Chagall [1887-1985],   Interview  [1977].

March 31, 2018

BEST  PIECE  OF  ADVICE 

Some admiral in giving a commencement

address said, “The best piece of advice

I can give you is to make your bed every

morning.”  I laughed to myself when

I heard that - because I never make

my bed. Why would I want to do that?
Then again - I better challenge myself:
"What would be my best piece of advice?"

My best piece of advice would be this: 
“When you sign your signature, your 
name, to anything, write it clearly, 
carefully and exactly." Hey, who sees 
our bed?  But others see our work 
and what we're willing to put our name to. 
It might make life easier for the other person 
who is trying to figure out, "Whose name 
is this?"  Don’t laugh now, it could become 
a collector's item some day. You never know.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2018
Admiral William H. McRaven
University of Texas,  April 17, 2014

STATIONS OF THE CROSS

ON THE WALLS OF MY MIND

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Stations of the Cross On the Walls of My Mind.”

It’s Good Friday. Besides this Good Friday Service - many parishes and churches have the Stations of the Cross - today.  We have 3 of them here at St. Mary’s:  for the kids at 12; for parishioners  at 1:30; and a Hispanic outdoors Stations of the Cross at 5:30 P.M.

If we go inside most Catholic Churches around the world, we see along the walls of each church, a set of 14 Stations of the Cross.

If we go inside Catholic Churches - we sometimes see people making the Stations of the Cross - by themselves - especially during Lent - and with others publically during Lent as well.

And a couple of years ago a lady told me she heard a priest say from the pulpit, “Pick out just one station of the cross - sit under it - and let that station of the cross sink into our being. Or pick out one that says the most to you - and then meditate on,  ‘Why?’”

She said she picked,  “The fourth Station of the Cross.”

She continued, “It became my station.”

She added, “Whenever I came to church, I would sit under that station - on the side aisle usually.  That fourth station: ‘Jesus meets his sorrowful mother’ had particular impact on me, especially because of my mother and how she was there for me when my family fell apart because of my son’s alcoholism.”

ON THE WALLS OF MY MIND

Once more, the title of my homily is, “Stations of the Cross on the Walls of My Mind.”

If we step back in prayer and meditation and thought and memory, all of us can come up with our own personal stations of the cross.

Suggestion: Get a blank piece of paper and draw 14 boxes.  Now think about the Sorrowful mysteries and moments of our life.  I don’t think we would have 14 - maybe 5.  Then draw in a box with stick figures or if you definitely announce, “I can’t draw” - use a few words for the title of a suffering spot or stop or station or place or space - in your life.

It might be Anne Arundel Medical Center - where a loved one died. Or a nursing home or hospice house or your house of a loved one’s house.

Whenever I’m on the Gowanus Parkway in Brooklyn driving  towards Long Island, when I go by the Long Island University Hospital - I feel very deeply - that this hospital was the place where my nephew Michael died at the age of 14  - so very suddenly of cancer. I wasn’t there when he died, but I heard that he said to tell his little sister, Maryna, who wasn’t allowed to go up his room at that time of the evening, “My room is overlooking the parking lot down below. I’ll turn all the lights on in my room and get up on the window sill and wave to you down below.” They stood there in the parking lot,  looked up and saw him waving. He died early the next morning - and the night before was the last time everyone but his dad saw him.

I would also put Moses Maimonides Hospital in Brooklyn where my dad died. I’d also put 6^th avenue and 59^th street in Brooklyn where my mom was hit in a hit and run accident - while crossing the street - on her way to church and then to work.

So places of death are stations of the cross for many. So too places where someone said something that devastated us. So too places of divorce.  Does everyone have a First Station where we were condemned by someone else unjustly.

So too places where we fell - one, two, three, many times.

So too places where we were stripped of our dignity.

So too jobs and situations where we were nailed to a cross and we couldn’t escape.

These stations of the cross are sitting there hanging on the walls of our memory.

As we look at the story of our life - triggered by places or movies or songs - or conversations we see these personal stations, these crosses hanging on the walls of our memories.

Warning: these can be too much.  If might be better to do a few of them with trusted - very trusted family members.

Suggestion: I’m talking here about sorrowful mysteries. Maybe draw 5 or 14 boxes of glorious moments, glorious mysteries - or 5 or 14 moments of light and insight in one’s life.

And obviously, don’t do all this at once.

Maybe if they can become rising, resurrection, recovery moments, then the 50  Days after Easter till Pentecost is a good season to do this or take years to do this slowly.

CONCLUSION: GOOD FRIDAY

These are Good Friday reflections.

Today is a Good Friday to walk inside our story and see the moments of our lives and see that Jesus walked the same steps we walked.

Today is a good day to hear one of two of the  last screams of Jesus from the cross.

Hear those screams.  Haven’t we said the same prayer, the same words, made the same scream of  Jesus in our life when we felt abandoned by God, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me.”

How many times have we felt there was nothing left and all we could say in our deepest darkness, “Father into your hands I handing over me to you.”

If we do that, then we understand how a Bad Friday - a bad moment in our life can become a Good Moment or  a Good Friday.

March 30, 2018

SIDEWALK  SOUNDS

On the same day,

the same day mind you,

my neighbor next door

with hammer and chisel

was trying to smooth out

his sidewalk. It took him

most of the morning to,

“Clunk!” “Clunk!” “Clunk!”

Then came the silent cement.

On the same exact day

my neighbor up the street

had 3 guys - Latino, of course.

They do all the work nowadays

on sidewalks, lawns, and in restaurant kitchens.

Well, these 3 were jackhammering

a whole driveway. Then came the

cement truck up the street, “Beep, beep!”

The next day I saw,  a  smooth, perfect job.

It was Good Friday, so I wondered

if anyone down there in Jerusalem,

heard the hammering of nails into

Jesus’ hands and wrists and feet -

and if they heard Jesus’ words from

the cross and the ripping of the veil

of the temple in two and the Spirit

of God left that place and went out and

whispered its Love into our silent world.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2018

March 30, 2018 

Thought for today: 

“Now comes the mystery.”  

Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887), 

Last words [March 8, 1887]

HOLY  THURSDAY 

INTRODUCTION

The Sacramentary for Holy Thursday gives the homilist the following directions in fine print: “The homily should explain the principal mysteries which are commemorated in this Mass.” 

It then lists the mysteries: 1) the institution of the Eucharist, 2)  the institution of the priesthood, and 3) Christ’s commandment of brotherly and sisterly love.”

So here's a homily on those 3 mysteries.

Three mysteries, three points, three everyday sacred realities.

Three clear points: every homilist’s dream, better, every congregation’s dream — that is, if the preacher doesn’t preach too long.

1) THE EUCHARIST

First of all the Eucharist. We know all about Eucharist.

We all know about Eucharist ever since we were tiny tots. 

We longed to sit at the family table ever since we were tiny kids. We wanted out of the high chair and into a normal chair. 

We were sick and tired of the bib. Worse, we were sick and tired of being trapped in that stupid chair and being a captive washee to our mother who came towards us with a dish rag — every meal — that horrible dish rag — yuck — to wash around our mouth, so close to the nose, a dish rag with its specific dish rag smell — ooh — yuck. Doesn’t every child and every person around the world hate the smell of dish rags? It’s a smell — a dislike smell   - that has a lifetime memory. Do mothers do that in memory of their mothers. Do this in memory of me. 

We wanted out of the high chair and into a low chair. That would mean finally—freedom — and a napkin. I’ll do it myself mother. I’ll clean my own face.

The family table — sitting with the big people — the dream — even though it came with hundreds of commandments: break your bread, use a fork, eat your vegetables or there will be no desert, cut your spaghetti, wipe your mouth, say, “excuse me”, don’t play with your food, etc. etc. etc.

Eucharist. We all know about Eucharist. We all know the importance of family dinners and the importance of eating out—whether it’s at Red Lobster, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Charlie’s, or Sin Fronteras.  

Meals together build relationships together. 

Meals together build community. 

We know that. It was drilled into us as kids. Keep that up and you’ll go straight up to bed without the rest of your supper and that means, “No desert.” 

So we know the connection between food and communion with each other. It’s built into bodies. We want to eat with so and so and we don’t want to eat with so and so,  because we can’t stomach her. We long for longer tables or a second table.

Eucharist. We all know about Eucharist. We all know the importance of words — connecting -  communication — communion with each other — What’s new? What’s happening? It’s not good to eat alone. We need to not only eat with each other. We also need to talk with each other — and what better ambiance than food and the family table. We also listen need to listen to each other! We know the difference between a great meal and a horrible meal. A key ingredient is whether there is great table talk or we're eating in  Dullsville!  

Holy Thursday: the Thanksgiving Meal of Jesus — the Last Supper with his disciples, his closest friends — the hungering to be with them,  -  -  needing their huddled support — the hungering to celebrate the Passover together, bread and wine, the paschal lamb, tradition. The full moon outside, the fullness of memories and music inside.

The Lamb — representing all animals — serving us — dying for us —giving their life — sacrificing their life — so that we might live.

Unless we have vegetarians with us....

Blood — what flows through all of us—connecting us — so importantly. Blood is thicker than water. Family.

The Body: We vote with our presence. We vote with our feet. We vote with our bodies. We bring our bodies to those rooms and those places that matter to us: home, classrooms, chapels, hospices. Show me your schedule and I’ll show you your friends, your values, your will. This is my body. This is my blood. This is where I bring my body — home, ministry — to be with the poor, to be with the friend, to be with the Lord!

Eucharist: we sum it all up in Eucharist —Thanksgiving — each Eucharist is a Thanksgiving Meal. Holy Thursday is the big one — the big feast — where we pass over into God in and through and with Christ. His blood be upon us and upon our children. His blood be upon us and our doors and our places of ministry and recreation. His blood be upon us and all the people whose lives we touch throughout the year.

The Table: the place we gather at least 3 times a day to eat—the place we gather each day to worship our God in Christ, with Christ, through Christ — the place we hear News — Good News and Bad —sharing words and food together. Eucharist! Last Supper. Each Supper.

2) PRIESTHOOD

Ever since the 1860’s the Church has been redefining, refining, looking at herself as Church. The result was the half finished statement at Vatican I on the church because of the Italian revolution and then the two major constitutions at Vatican II on the Church—that have been slowly filtering into the mindset of the People of God—slowly.

Will we live to see the slow shifting in our church on who is a priest, who can be priest—what is a priest, how are we all priests, ministerial priesthood. Will it take the horror stories on the evening news and in the morning papers to bring about dramatic changes in our church regarding priesthood or will it be something we never dreamed of happening—being “wordified” in a new way in Vatican III—sometime in the 21^st century?

Who knows? In the meanwhile Christ is the great High Priest—who bridges us into the mystery of Our God, whom He called and we call “Abba” “Father!”

In the meanwhile all of us are being called as Church to fulfill our roles in the modern world as prophets, priests and kings—prophetesses, priestesses and queens.

In the meantime the ministerial priesthood is being challenged  as it was challenged at Trent to reform, to renewal, and to better service. Each Holy Thursday at the diocesan cathedral our bishops call our priests to a renewal of dedication. Each Holy Thursday night we pray to Jesus, our High Priest, for good priests. Let us pray for all ministerial priests. Let us pray for each other.

3) THE NEW COMMANDMENT

And third and lastly, on this day, we hear once again Christ’s new commandment to love one another as he has loved us. We are called to wash each other’s feet.

Jesus makes an abstraction “love”, into a distraction — “washing feet”.

It’s easy to talk about love. The song says, “Show me!” So Jesus showed us how to love one another. Wash each other’s feet. If that’s all people remember from the Holy Thursday Liturgy, what a great distraction. If people then go home and actually love one another in the specific here and nows of everyday life, praise God.

The new commandment to love is specific. It’s down to earth. It’s skin touching. It’s water bearing. It’s putting one’s life on the line—in the car or in the subway or on the pavement and going over to visit the sick in the hospital or the hospice. It’s taking time away from the TV or interfacing with a computer screen and interfacing with the other people we live with. To turn off the television and actually ask those we live with, “How was your day?” and be willing to put our body—our ears on the line and to actually hear the other respond to our question: “How was your day? How was your life?” To die to self so that the other can rise by our affirming presence of their work that day or  their visit to a senile father that weekend. That’s real! That’s as real as washing one another’s feet. “Could you not watch and listen to me for one hour—or even one minute? I just had a tough weekend. My mom is finding it very difficult dealing with my dad.”

Wasn’t that the Last Supper? At other meals they asked Jesus what his sermons and his parables were all about. At this Last Meal, this Last Supper, he told them what his life was all about: love and service and washing each others feet.

CONCLUSION

And we go forth and do all this in memory of him—eating bread and drinking wine, praying to our God for our world—and washing each other’s feet.

Do this in memory of me.


___________________________________

Painting on top: The Last Supper by  Fritz von Uhde [1886]