THIS  IS  GOOD  ENOUGH 
FOR ME

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INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for is, “This Is Good Enough for Me.”

Some priests ask another priest to preach at their Anniversary Mass.  Sorry!   I wanted to say some things myself - on this occasion. It allows me to avoid a roast or a toast. I wanted to look at my life and thank you and so many others - as well as God - Father, Son and Holy Spirit - for so many blessings.

Once more the title of my homily is, “This Is Good Enough for Me.”

OPENING IMAGE

I was wondering - if every family has a private joke - a specific saying - that everyone says - at family meals - or what have you - when a specific behavior happens.

Ours is, “This is good enough for me.”

I was telling someone this and they said their family saying was, “NS Sherlock,” when someone says the obvious.

NS! Obviously if you don’t get that, I can’t explain it in church …. But as Father Tizio says - with his Brooklyn Italian accent - especially when someone doesn’t get one of his puns, “Think about it!”

Here’s the story where our family comment comes from. When we were kids, our mom told us a story about when she was a young woman. She was working as a cook - a maid - in Boston for this rich family: the Brandt’s. This one evening they were going to have  a big dinner. My mom made a 7 layer cake. It was off to the side  - on a side board  - the pièce de résistance - the dessert for the end of the dinner.

Before the meal began this guy headed right for the cake - with knife and plate in hand - getting ready to cut himself  a nice slice. My mom spotted the turkey and went over to stop him. She said, “There’s plenty of food over there on that table!” and he says, ‘This is good enough for me.”

We all laughed and without knowing it, in time we found ourselves often saying that saying when about to eat something delicious. With fork in hand - with cake or prime rib on that fork - with a smile on our face, someone would announce - holding up their fork, “This is good enough for me.”

MY LIFE

A Golden Jubilee is a good time to look at one’s life - one’s wonderful memories and moments like this and say,  “This is good enough for me.”

In O. L. P. H. grammar school, a Redemptorist priest came into our 5^th grade or so classroom and told us about what it was like to be a missionary priest in Brazil. I don’t remember all the details of that moment - whether he had pictures of priests on horses going into the wilderness to say Mass and baptize and marry people. But I do remember that this Redemptorist priest - the priests in our parish - asked us, “Who of you would like to be a priest.”

I raised my hand.

Years later I read in Father Andrew Greeley’s autobiography - Confessions of a Parish Priest - that he raised his hand in a similar situation - but it was in the 4^th grade - and he added, “I never took my hand down.”

At times people ask, “When did you decide to become a priest?” and I used to be embarrassed to say, “5^th grade.” When asking kids, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I found out that kids often have an answer at a very early age and some say, “I have no idea. I’m just a kid.”

I’ve visited many classrooms - especially when I did many, many parish missions, I discovered that 79.5% of grammar school girls who have pets want to be veterinarians.  I heard that my grandnephew Sean came to the Naval Academy to see the Blue Angels as a kid. It worked. He graduated from the Naval Academy  in 2013. Right now he’s in Pensacola, Florida - training to work in navy planes - but not the Blue Angels. Wouldn’t that be a great bragging right?

I’ve also been asked, “Why did you  become a priest?”  I’d tell people that I wanted to be a foreign missionary priest since I was a kid - like many Redemptorists in our Baltimore Province wanted to be.

So I went to a minor seminary for high school, then college, our novitiate, finished college, then finished 4 years of theology in our major seminary.

With an eye on Brazil, in December of 1966 after finishing up our final four months of training here in Annapolis, surprise, I found out the night before our first assignments, that I wasn’t going to Brazil like 4 of my classmates did.   I wasn’t going to be able to say: “This is good enough for me.”

Fast forward. Looking back now at all that has happened since then I’m saying today, “This is good enough for me.”

ANNE ARUNDEL MEDICAL CENTER

Last year - some moment - like 2:35 in the morning - I’m driving up Bestgate Road to get to the hospital. I was on duty and that means I had the duty phone on a small night table next to my bed.

The phone rang - woke me up. A nurse said that someone was dying and the family wanted a priest. I jotted down the info and got going.

I threw my clothes on and threw water on my face. I’m driving fast to the hospital and thinking, “I wish they called last evening or yesterday - because that would mean Father Flynn or Father Krastel would have seen the person. Those two characters are fabulous to be with because they cover the hospital weekdays and weekends  and into the evening  and it makes it easier - much easier -  for the rest of us. Thank you Joe and Pat.

As I turned left off Bestgate and onto Medical Parkway, an insight hit me. I’m talking to myself, saying, “Wow! Great! Next time when someone asks me why I became a priest, I’ll answer, ‘So that some folks will have  a priest, when they want a priest, at 2:30 in the morning.’” I’ve heard many priests say about being a priest, “The reason I entered is different than the reason I stayed.” I’m sure all of you who are married have said the same thing.

I’ll also add,  if you want a priest at 2:30 in the morning - make sure it’s not early, early, Thursday morning - because I’m on duty 8 AM Wednesday morning till 8 AM Thursday morning. Smile.

As I look back at lots and lots and lots of moments like that in the past 50 years, I’ve said without thinking, “This is good enough for me.”

Like all the priests here at St. Mary’s and all the priests I’ve met and lived and worked with, we know the many, many experiences that we pinch ourselves for being there.

In time, I got over my disappointment in not going to Brazil.

In time, I got to experience many wonderful moments - many of which got me to say, “Now I know why I’m here.”

Ann Marie who works the window and the phone at St. Mary’s said to me recently, “When I die,  I want to ask God about the What if’s?”

I had never heard that comment or wondering before - about what if’s. Then she said, “I think I’m going to then say, “Thank you God, for the What wasers!”

I love a comment by Alfred Lord Tennyson in his poem, Ulysses, “I am part of all that I have met.”

I am part of my mom and dad - their seed and egg that became me - and my brother and my two sisters. I’ve been often told that I look like my dad and I have his smile - and I’ve noticed in family photographs that my feet point outwards like his did. I have their Catholic faith which they brought from Ireland. I heard their stories. We are family. Stress on we.

MEMORIES

I remember a moment when I was a little kid. I was in the sunporch of our house. My dad was sitting on his green vinyl chair in the corner reading the newspaper - and I was simply paging through some of my father’s books - on a bookshelf.  I opened up one of his favorites - a brown covered book, entitled, Best Loved Poems of the English Language.

There on some page in the middle of the book was a rose petal - dried and dead. I had never seen such a thing before. I walked over to my dad carefully - with the book opened and the rose petal - lying like the bread on the gold plate on our altars at  Mass.

“Daddy,” I asked, “what’s this?”

“What’s what?” he said as he put down the paper.

He looked at the rose petal. He picked it up carefully. A great smile came on his face. He said one simple word, “Memories!” That was good enough for him - with his explanation for a moment of his life.

POET

I like poetry - and I don’t know if I got that gift from my dad or what. I do have memories of him reading a poem now and then to us.

Thank you daddy for all you gave us - and also mom and family - and my sister Mary. I’m the youngest of four. Sorry Mary - for possibly giving away your possible age. We’re the last two. And lately we’ve been revisiting our childhood.    Memories.

In time,  I’ve found out that Jesus was a poet and a story teller. So thank you Jesus for all your poetry and all your parables.

As you know - Jesus said the same of the prophets - especially Isaiah, “Thank you for your parables and your poetry.”

We heard poetry and parable in today’s readings in the image of a tree. Each tree has to start small - as a seed or a seedling - before it can become a majestic cedar tree on a high mountain - the image in today’s first reading or the image of a lowly mustard tree in one’s back yard - the image in today’s gospel.

WHAT’S GROWING IN OUR BACKYARD OR IN OUR BACKGROUND

At a 50^th Anniversary - one pauses to see what’s growing in one’s garden.

I once gave a talk in Reading, Pennsylvania -  in a park - in a band shell - up on a stage - and they told me there was 15,000 people there that evening. With the lights shining across a pond in front of that stage - I could not see anyone’s face in the dark - people from many parishes in that area - celebrating the Eucharist in memory of St. John Neumann and his work in that part of Pennsylvania in the 1850’s.

As I stand here today - looking out at your faces - I see you. We’re not in the dark. It’s nice to have met you - and gotten to know some of you - and to wonder what’s growing and going on behind your eyes - and in the plot of your brain - called you.

As I stood there with you at times - I hope your felt welcomed - wondered about - and loved. If I seemed cold or distant at times, please forgive me. I’d love your mercy - a theme I’m hearing this pope being off on. I mentioned in a homily just this past week - that this pope said, “No sticks! Stop beating others with your sticks - as well as stop beating on yourself.”  Hopefully, you’re experiencing a forgiving church - and forgiving priests - and forgiving Christians - a forgiving self - rather than a judging one.

As I close my eyes I often see in the dark - many, many, many faces in all the places I’ve been assigned - and I’ve worked in, Wisconsin, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Maryland, etc. etc. etc.

I hope in the Masses we celebrated and prayed together in and with Christ, we experience the basic Christian meal called the Eucharist

I hope in my homilies you’ve heard more Jesus than me - and I hope in my blog and in my books and poems and magazine articles,  you’ve heard down to earth contact points with God - as real as bread and wine - and once and a while - as elaborate as a 7 layer cake.

CONCLUSION

And I hope afterwards - you’ve say to yourself  - many times - about your life and your memories, “This is good enough for me.”