Thought for today:
“The worst sin - perhaps the only son - passion can commit is to be joyless.”
Dorothy L. Sayers,
Gaudy Night.
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Monday, November 11, 2019
November 11, 2019
URGES
I haven’t heard many talks or
read many articles or books on
urges - yet I feel an urge to do
some talking, thinking and some
research on these human urges.
For salt, for sugar, for lust, for
power, for control, for money,
yes, I have to admit I have
these various urges and surges
that are in the human psyche.
So I also need to hear God’s
voice and my voice and great
people’s urges to be holy, caring,
creative, present, supportive,
understanding and thoughtful.
© Andy Costello, Reflections 2019
Sunday, November 10, 2019
November 10, 2019
BUTTERFLIES
There are some people
whom we wish were butterflies -
but not for the old reason -
that they evolve from being
a crawling caterpillar to
becoming a beautiful butterfly.
Nice. But some folks
we simply wish they did
their work - whether moths
or monarchs - and do it well -
in silence - and in beauty -
and then they just move on.
© Andy Costello, Reflections
2019
FOR A LEGACY, NOT BAD
INTRODUCTION
The title of my homily for this 32 Sunday in Ordinary
Time [C] is, “For a Legacy, Not Bad.”
Here are some thoughts that hit me last night - after reading today’s three readings.
[PAUSE]
DAVE
A guy named Dave died this year. Whenever he was going to
meetings and various other things, he would arrive with his light brown
leather brief case that had a leather handle - plus a leather strap to put
around one’s shoulder. I kidded him about it at times - saying things like, “What’s
in your leather male purse?” I mentioned it in the homily I gave at his funeral
- with the secret hope Madge, his wife, might gift me with it. Madge got sick before I
left Annapolis and I saw her twice - but I didn’t bring up the bag. He has a
few sons. Well, Madge died recently -
and that bag is out of my reach or hopes forever. Life. Greedy, greedy, me, me,
me ….
Last night the thought hit me: “Does everyone have a
leather bag with their important papers and this and that in it?” “Does everyone have a neat leather bag they
bring to their death - so that when they die they arrive at God’s table with
it. Then when God - or however this works after we die - then when God says, ‘Make
an account of your stewardship!’ we open up our invisible leather bag and tell
God what we did with our life.”
In other words, “What was your legacy? What is the good
stuff you did in your life?”
I guess one of things we do on retreat is to think about
things like this.
This is the stuff people mention at our funeral - the
good stories - how we made life better for the people in our life - hopefully.
[PAUSE] THE LITTLE GIRL IN THE BATHTUB
Back in the late 1960’s, in my first assignment as a
priest, at Most Holy Redeemer Parish, on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, I
got a phone call one day from Josie Miller.
She was homebound - I never liked the word, “shut-in”. She told me about a little girl who was kept
in a bathtub over in an apartment - on the West Side. The little girl wasn’t with her parent or parents. She was
with this couple and Josie asked, “Could I go over and see the situation and do
what I could do?”
I got the address - and the apartment number. I was young
and dumb and ready to save the world.
I rang the apartment door number and this shabby looking guy opened up the door and I told him I was a
priest. I arrived dressed as a priest of course.
He let me into a shabby apartment and I met a woman there as well - who also looked
shabby. So it was shabby, shabby, shabby.
I asked if they had a little girl with them?
Silence!
Then I heard a child whimpering from the bathroom. That door was open. I walked to the doorway of the
bathroom and there was this close to naked little girl with belt beating marks
on her - plus feces.
I turned and headed for the apartment door venting, “This
is wrong, whoever you are.”
I went back to the rectory and called Child Protection
Services and gave a social worker the information.
It worked. They got over there right away and ended up
taking the little girl out of there.
Josie - who knew everything - and who this little girl
was - told me that I saved that kid that day.
That’s the story. It’s in my invisible leather bag for
when I meet God.
For a legacy, not bad.
[PAUSE] MARY
JANE
Years and years ago - in another place where I was
stationed - I used to talk with a woman I’ll name “Mary Jane”.
As priest we run into lots of people - and hear lots of
stories.
Mary Jane told me loud and clear I could tell folks her
story - if it could help them.
When Mary Jane was a little girl - when she came
downstairs to go to school - she would often walk by her parents - drunk on the
couch and sometimes on the floor.
She would walk up the street with her school bag and go
into a house about 8 houses away. She would walk up the steps - open the open
front door and go to the kitchen table - saying hello to her girl friend who
lived there and say to her mom, “Hi Mrs. X!”
Mrs. X would give her breakfast - and then comb her hair.
I can still see Mary Jane mimicking what her girlfriend’s mom would be doing. [DO. WITH FINGERS LIKE A COMB DO THREE
STROKES ON EACH SIDE OF MY HEAD.]
“Mrs. X would say, ‘Just making you beautiful Mary Jane. Just
making you beautiful.”
Then Mary Jane told me, “That woman saved my life. That
woman taught me and showed me that someone cared about me.”
For a legacy. Not bad.
In some other conversation with Mary Jane - she was
talking about her husband - also a doctor. She said that her husband really
loved her. I asked one of my favorite questions, “For example?”
“Well,” Mary Jane said, “one time there I was really
sick. I was bed-ridden for about 6 months and he had to put a bed pan under me
and then clean me up - every time. Experiencing that I said to myself a bunch
of times, ‘This guy really loves me!’ And when I said that out loud to him he
would say, ‘No S__! Mary Jane. No S___!” and we’d both have a good laugh.
For a legacy. Not bad.
[PAUSE] [THE LADY IN PITTSBURGH]
For 8 ½ years myself and a Father Tom - different from
this Tom - gave parish missions in all kinds of different places. Obviously, I was thinking about my life and
legacy last night - when putting together these thoughts for today. Today’s readings - especially the first
reading and the gospel - certainly triggered
for me end of life questions.
I don’t see the goal of life to keep the rules and the
Law - as we heard in today’s first reading. I’d
eat the pork - especially a hot dog and a ham sandwich - and die for
love or something much, much deeper. I
don’t have to worry about keeping the Law - as in today’s gospel. My brother
had 7 daughters. I see both these stories with a sense of humor - but I’ve got
sidetracked.
Let me tell you about a lady in Pittsburgh. She too was
homebound and evidently close to death. Tom and I were preaching a parish mission
in Pittsburgh and in the afternoon we visited the homebound. The 2 priests there gave us a list of folks
to see.
Well, this woman asked me at least a dozen times when I
was alone with her, “Father, am I going to hell?” and I told her a dozen times,
“Of course not.”
Well, no luck. I guess,
she was stuck in a type of semi-dementia. I guess nothing new could get into
her thought patterns. Evidently, she felt she had broken some of God’s laws and
she was headed for hell.
That evening I found out from those 2 priests that my experience
was their experience and with every new priest that came there, they hoped some
priest would have a break through.
Nope.
[PAUSE] THE
LADY IN COLUMBUS OHIO
The following week Tom and I were preaching a parish
mission in Columbus, Ohio.
A deacon drove me one afternoon to see a lady who was homebound. He told me that she
had a few more weeks to live at the most. She was in a big double bed in the
middle of their living room. Her hair was beautiful. She told us her husband
was perfect and combed it for her every day.
The four of us - deacon, husband, the lady who was dying and
I - said some prayers and we had
communion with Christ.
In the 15 minutes alone with this woman I received the
gift of a lifetime - her legacy to me.
I didn’t realize it - but the woman in Pittsburgh from
the week before - was still in my mind. So I asked this woman in Columbus,
Ohio, “Are you scared - in that you’ll be seeing God in a short time.”
Wide awake she turned towards me and said, “Scared? Hell
no? In about two short weeks I’m going to be seeing the shining face of God.”
And her face was shining.
CONCLUSION
Well, thinking about this - and all this - last night, what a legacy.
Whoever taught her that message, that Good News, “For a
Legacy, Not Bad.” Not bad!
And the lady in Pittsburgh, if she got that message from
someone, or some pulpit, bad, bad, legacy.
That’s the total opposite of the Redemptorist Message and
Legacy, With Christ there is abundance, overflowing, copious redemption.
Oooops! I forgot
to mention the one liner that really triggered this whole homily. It’s
the last sentence in today’s second reading from Saint Paul’s Second Reading to the Thessalonians, “May the Lord
direct your heart’s to the love of God and to the endurance of Christ.”
For a Legacy. Not Bad. For a Legacy. Not Bad.
I hope I put that in your leather bag. Amen.
November 10, 2019
Here are the words of the song "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" - on the Anniversary of its sinking - November 10, 1975.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'gitche gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya
At seven pm a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters
Lake Huron rolls, superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors' cathedral
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'gitche gumee'
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
Writer/s: Gordon Lightfoot
Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
Here are the words of the song "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" - on the Anniversary of its sinking - November 10, 1975.
WRECK OF THE
EDMUND FITZGERALD
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'gitche gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya
At seven pm a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters
Lake Huron rolls, superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors' cathedral
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'gitche gumee'
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
Writer/s: Gordon Lightfoot
Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
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