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.