JOYS AND SORROWS

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Joys and Sorrows.”

The title was just “Joy” - till the news out of Connecticut on Friday.

TODAY IS JOYFUL SUNDAY

This Sunday we celebrate Joyful Sunday - Gaudete Sunday - the half way point in Advent.

We heard in the first two readings and the Psalm  the theme of joy and rejoicing, giving thanks. We also heard the theme of motive for rejoicing: it’s new life - change - and we heard this especially in today’s gospel -  with the preaching of John the Baptist - to various groups.

This morning a question: On a scale of 1 to 10 am I a joyful person? 

I think I’m usually a 9 or a 10 on that. So I think I am a joyful person.

However, others have a voice, a vote, about that vote. They have to deal with me. Each of us experiences each of us.

Everyone has to ask at times: “When I walk into a room, do I get a ‘Yes’ - an ‘Oh good’ vote or an ‘Oh no!’ vote?”

That’s an “Uh oh!” if I get an “Oh no!” vote.

And if I give myself an, “Oh no” vote when it comes to being a joyful person - being a person who  brings joy to the world - when, where and how can I change?

CHILDHOOD EXPERIENCE

I like to say that everyone has the following experience I once had. I’m playing stickball as a kid on 62^nd Street in Brooklyn, New York and the pink Spaldeen ball goes into the man up the streets front yard. He’s sitting on the stoop. He won’t let us get it. He’s a grouch. What happened? I’m standing there watching him yelling at us kids and I say to myself, “I don’t want to be like that when I grow up.”

Each of us has to ask, “Have I?”  I think everyone has that kind of an experience and I hope everyone chooses to be a joyful person. Have I?

A CHRISTMAS CAROL - BY CHARLES DICKENS

I saw A Christmas Carol again Friday night put on by the Colonial Players of Annapolis - up at the Colonial Players theater on East Street.  Once more there were lots of little kids there. Did any one of those kids consciously or unconsciously decide, “I don’t want to be like Scrooge  when I grow up.” Once more I had to look at myself and ask: “Have I become a Scrooge?”

As I looked around the theater - before the play - which they put on every other Christmas -  I noticed lots of little kids. It’s an every other Christmas event for some families. This time it was extra significant - because I noticed all the little kids there.  It was just like these kinds of kids who were killed on Friday in Sandy Hook School in Newtown, Connecticut. A prayer, “Oh my God, no!”

I was doing what millions of Americans were doing - aware of little kids a lot more - since the shooting. Last evening I got an e-mail from a friend of mine in Ohio. She wrote, “Today - Saturday -  I went with Marilyn and her family - including her 3 year old granddaughter Phoebe - to see the Toledo Ballet/Symphony perform ‘The Nutcracker’. Most of the dancers were professionals, but they did incorporate around 20 children dancers from the Toledo area. It was delightful. I enjoyed it so much. But, a few times, when the young children were dancing, I thought of the little ones who lost their lives yesterday in Connecticut, and the tears began again.”

Life like the rosary beads has the sorrowful mysteries along with the joyful ones. I prefer joy.

REVIEW OF THE WEEK

We come to Sunday Mass and in our moments here - 50 to 60 minutes -  we do what the Sunday morning talk shows do. We look back on our week and we look forward to a new week.

How was your last week? What would it sound like to each other on a Sunday morning talk show? What are your hopes for this week - 9 days before Christmas?

To practice what I preach, I looked back on last week.  

Last Sunday night we went out to dinner - Date night - as a community to Adam’s Ribs. We toasted Father Blas who was leaving on Tuesday morning for home - for Paraguay - to celebrate his 25^th Anniversary a priest. Nice. It was joyful. He was looking forward to seeing his brother Gustavo who was recovering from cancer. That was sorrowful.  We find out when the bill came, someone paid for it. Woo. Thankful. Nice.

I was on duty - and no calls came when we were in the restaurant. Good. The Giants had won that day. It was joyful.  I was rooting for the Ravens to beat the Redskins - which would help the Giants. It wasn’t meant to be. I learned long ago not to let sports results dominate my spirit. I made that decision when the Baltimore Colts beat the New York Giants way, way back, in 1958 - in Sudden Death - 23-17. Bummer. I was stuck in a convent that day in Scranton, Pennsylvania visiting my sister Peggy a nun. And there was a TV set in the big room we were sitting along with lots of families. Bummer. I didn’t find out they lost till we got back home to Brooklyn. That got to me. Somewhere along the line I said, “I won’t let that sap my spirit like that ever again.”

I got a call to the hospital that night - a lady was dying of cancer. I anointed her and I prayed with her for her - along with her family. She said, “I’m ready!”  Translation: I’m ready to go home to God. It was a sorrowful moment for me - triggering more sorrow than joy.  Each of us is our own translator of life’s moments.

Early Monday morning I got another call to get to the hospital - a baby was dead - stillborn. The duty guy is on till 8 AM. This was 6:35 AM. That was a sorrowful mystery. Why God? Why? 33 weeks old. We prayed. I baptized the little girl Alexa - and prayed with and for her parents - and grandmother. A sorrowful - sorrowful mystery.

I found out when I got back from the hospital last Monday morning that Father Blas had just found out that his brother Gustavo had died. Ugh. That was a sorrowful mystery. What would that be like planning on flying home on Tuesday morning to celebrate - and to see one’s family - and to find out on Monday morning - one’s brother had died.

I had Mass with the whole St. Mary’s high school on Wednesday.  It was a wonderful Mass. The psychic energy - was calm and mellow. Sometimes the kids seem so elsewhere. Sometimes they seem noisy and upsetty. Last Wednesday morning it was a joyful - prayerful Mass. Mystery. Mystery. Mystery.

Thursday morning I was at the School of the Incarnation for the Sacrament of Reconciliation - confessions. They had lined up 8 priests - so that made it easier to hear all those confessions. The kids come face to face. The kid walks over to one of the priests who is sitting there and the kid sits. We begin with a greeting and a sign of the cross. Kids sins are mentioned and a penance is given. I usually ask the kid to do something nice for mom or dad or brother or sister. Then there is the pardon and absolution prayer and Go in Peace.

I think this way of confession is much better than we were kids - going into the box and sometimes making up numbers and sins. I like it that a little kid has the experience of talking to an adult for a moment and you can see their face picturing moments - usually at home - talking back to parents, skipping homework, fighting with siblings - Amazing they use a word like “sibling”. I never had siblings when I was a kid. I had a brother and 2 sisters.

A thought hits me. I see a kid’s face. Is this the kid for life? A smile? A worry? Joyful? Sorrowful? What will become of this child? I pray that the kid has a great life. Since they are mentioning a moment when they did a negative, a so called “sin”, I like to ask, “What are you good at? A sport? A subject in school? Soccer. Social studies. Music. Lacrosse.

I drive back to St. Mary’s after a second session with the kids after lunch and get back just before school gets out: a joyful moment.

Friday I turn the radio on while driving back from the 12:10 Mass and hear the first sounds for me - about the horror in Connecticut.

People will want us clergy to pray for the kids and the folks up there and parents and teachers everywhere.  People will want us to say something that helps. Uh oh!

Translation: will they be angry when we say, “Horrible. Don’t know what to say. Scary? Terrible”?

I see the last name of the killer. Sounds Catholic. Always wish that our faith would challenge and help us not to make such horrible decisions - do such horrible actions.

Want to know motive - like the rest of people.

Want to say: presidents cry. I cry. God cries?

Could say: there is evil in life - in people.

Could say: there is sickness in people - craziness - mixed upness.

Could say: there is sorrow in people - as well as joy.

Could ask: does Christmas really mean - Christ’s Mass - and does each Mass - or at least Christmas Mass have any impact on the lives of those who are there?

Could say: Joy is the echo of God within us - as someone put it.

Could ask: if that is true, does sorrow mean, God is absent - from the minds and hearts of some people?

Yes at times. That night in the garden and that afternoon on the cross Jesus screamed, “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me.”

Felt some joy last night when that priest, Monsignor Robert Weiss up there in Newtown or close by spoke some words that this is horrible and we just need to be with each other in moments like this.

Recalled one of my lifetime learnings: “Teach thy tongue to say, ‘I do not know.”

As someone said on TV last night: at a moment like this, some people need words - some people need silence. What do you need? If it’s silence, take some good walks this week. If you need words, talk and listen to each other. Communion with Christ doesn’t just mean 5 minutes here in church on Sunday morning.

CONCLUSION

Christmas is coming. It’s going to be different in the lives of a lot of people this year because of this tragedy.

Christmas comes every year - and every year we sing, “Joy to the World the Lord Has Come.”

And Jesus keeps coming into a world where are plenty of moments of sorrow and moments of joy - and hopefully most of us choose to be people who bring joy to our world - at home - at work - at school - on the roads.

Each week - each day - we have lots of experiences - and it’s our choice to bring joy, light, hope, a good word to that experience.

Each newspaper has good news and bad - its  announcements of births and deaths, victories and defeats, ads and arrests, cartoons and crossword puzzles - along with Sudoku.

Our move. Of course tragedies kill us. Ugh. Every death is our death. As John Donne [1572-1631] the preacher and poet said, “Every time that bell tolls it tolls, don’t ask for whom? It tolls for thee.”  We are all related toe each other. We are all God’s children. We are all sisters and brothers - siblings. Hopefully, we will be resurrection, hope and joy to others as well. Hopefully we hear Jesus’ call to us to “Go into the whole world and bring Good News to others. Amen.”