Sunday Homily, November 30, 2014, 1st Advent, Cycle B

Readings: Acts 10, 34-43; Psalm 118; Colossians 3, 1-4; John 20, 1-9.

An Easter Story (Kids Only?)

There is a little girl named Meredith. She had a dog named Amy who after a good life died when Meredith was 4. Meredith loved Amy and wanted to write a note to God to make sure He knew she had arrived.

Her mother, being a good mom, wrote down what Meredith wanted to say, put the letter in an envelope along with 2 pictures so God could identify Amy, and sealed it with Meredith’s return address. Two stamps were applied because the letter had a long way to go. It was addressed: God, Heaven.

A week or so later on a Saturday afternoon, Meredith returned home with her mom. On the porch was package wrapped in gold paper addressed to Meredith. Return address: God, Heaven.

Meredith ran to her room and opened the package. Inside was a small book, When Your Pet Dies, Meredith’s letter and pictures, and on pink paper a handwritten note.

Dearest Meredith,

I am sure you will be happy to know that Amy arrived here safe, sound, and happy. Your pictures were especially helpful and I recognized her immediately. She is now with me all the time.

You might also be happy to know that she is no longer sick and stiff. Rather her spirit is so frisky and playful that I cannot keep up with her.

Since as spirits we do not have bodies and therefore don’t have pockets, I am returning your helpful pictures and beautiful letter. They may provide good memories some day.

Thank you for such a thoughtful letter. I hope the book helps. Thanks also to your wonderful mom for helping you with the letter. Did you know I chose her especially for you.

One of my angels is helping me with this letter. As God I enjoy hanging around heaven and wherever there is love. I bless you and love you more every day.

Signed, God & one of his special helpers (who wrote this letter when God told her the words to write).

What is Your Easter Story?

Download the homily as an mp3 file.

Readings:

Jeremiah 31, 31-34 ,  I will make a new covenant.

Psalm 51,    Create a clean heart in me, O God.

Hebrews 5, 7-9,   He became the source of Salvation.

 John  12,  20-33,   Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies.

 

 

Jeremiah observations: 

What:  We have not seen Jeremiah for a long time, since before Thanksgiving.  Remember that he is one of the Big 3 Prophets (because of the size of the work, e.g. 52 chapters in Jeremiah), who are Isaiah, Jeremiah, & Ezekiel.   I love Jeremiah, he is such an attractive and transparent character.  

Author:  most of the work is put together by Jeremiah’s scribe Baruch.  Jeremiah is described as the broken hearted prophet because of his heart rending life spent warning the people & kings that their behavior was going to be punished.  The people hated him for this.   

Time:  ca. 555 before Christ, as an easy date to remember.   Jeremiah speaks before and during the Babylonian Captivity.  Like all prophets, he condemns before, and he consoles during the Captivity.  This event is monumental in the life of the tribe and in the life of Jeremiah.

 

 

 

The Scene:  Remember that the Holy Land had a north & a south, Israel & Judah.  First, the northern kingdom, Israel, was defeated by the Assyrians, 622 BCE.  These Hebrew tribes vanish into the DNA of the region, “The Lost Tribes of Israel.”  Next, the Babylonians & Nebuchadnezzar defeat the Assyrians and threaten the southern kingdom, Judah, with the capital Jerusalem.  Jeremiah is watching this and seeing it as Yahweh's punishment.  In 600, more or less, the Babylonians do destroy Jerusalem and cart the Hebrews into slavery.

Today's selection, chapter 31.  Jeremiah is consoling the people who are now in captivity.  He suggests that God wants to make a new deal or, as it is called, a covenant.  Yahweh is promising to forgive the people and treasure them.  Jeremiah addresses the people right off using first person singular, I, meaning God.

Sources: Fr. Reginald Fuller, St. Louis U., Wikipedia; Answers.com; Encyclopedia of Judaism

 

 

Hate My Life?

I have a story this morning which I have told twice, once at St. Mark's, over 8 years ago and here about 4 years ago.  Pardon me if you've heard it. Some of the best stories I tell over & over, they are so poignant.  The story speaks to my point today, hate my life?  I had permission for the story.

It happened many years ago when I was working full time as a psychotherapist out of an office at Jesuit.  I think it was the first Monday morning of May.   I know it was a beautiful morning.  A boy came to see me who had been in my office on and off for about six years.  He had just graduated from high school and enlisted in the Air Force.  He had struggled since grade school with bouts of depression, and that morning seemed to be in great shape.  We did not even spend more than 30 minutes together, his mood was so up beat and care free.

 

 

 

He left.  Maybe two or three hours later a call came in.  The boy had left Jesuit, crossed Inwood to the Lincoln Center complex at LBJ, drove up to the top of the four floor garage, parked his car, headed to the edge of the garage, and walked over the side.  He landed on the cement street four floors below, face down flat.

Passerby saw it, called 911, and in a second the paramedics from just around the corner were on the scene.  He was in Parkland in a flash.  He lived.

 

 

It was not for about 3 weeks until I got to visit him.  He apologized.  I admit I was mad.  I loved this kid.  He fooled me.  He said that he had been in a zone, happy because he knew he was out of there, meaning he was ready to go to the other side.  He wanted to escape the pain of life and go to heaven.  He said he had no fear in walking off that fourth floor, none of the hesitation you feel before you jump off the high diving board the first time. 

You may guess why I tell this story.  It exemplifies what happens when you take literally "whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life."  This little piece of advice, taken the wrong way, can be so dangerous. This boy hated his life.

 

 

 

I would suggest there is a negative and a positive way to hate my life. 

The negative is exemplified by this kid's story.  This is often what is happening when you hear of someone cutting on themselves.  If I hate my life and hate myself, I will want to punish myself.  I am bad.  So I cut myself.  Or I may think that I am such a loser that no one will pay me any attention if I do not do something dramatic like spill my blood. 

 

 

 

Even without such dramatic examples, I do not want to encourage someone who hates their body, hates their job, hates their family, hates their school, hates.  Just thinking about this I recoil.   There may be reason for the hatred.  However, "There is a better way," I want to say and I would say it.   I believe in talk therapy.   Feelings are all okay.  I just don’t want some to stay around. 

You know someone depressed like this?  Ask them if they are suicidal.

On the positive side, I would suggest two things.

First, the word hate can be considered as hyperbolic, a big word meaning exaggeration.  It is like Rosemary telling me, "You get me up at 4:00 tomorrow morning for spin class & it is divorce!”   Think she is exaggerating?  I hope.   

 

 

 

Secondly, I would suggest that this all has to do with being more alive now, in this life. The grain of wheat falling to the ground and dying fits in with this.  For example: look at March Madness.  Many of these players have died to themselves to achieve & to be better players.  How many hours in the gym have they spent practicing free throws?  When they could be hanging out, sleeping in, text messaging?  And they love their lives.  I’ve seen boys do this at Jesuit. 

Goofy, but I hate my life to love my life.  I don't want to get up early.  I could sleep in to 11:00.  However, I, get up and head over to the Jewish Community Center, 6:00 A.M. spin class.  The result, I love life.  

 

 

 

The boy who jumped is now okay, amazingly.  It took him years of physical recovery.  Two things did not happen that blessed him.  He did not damage his brain and did not damage his spine.  Every other bone, plus his teeth, were broken.  Once he got strong enough he went to medical technical school, got his certificates, and now has good jobs in various hospitals in the city.  I don't think he hates his life anymore.  In fact, he loves it. 

How do you love your life?

Sources:  The Center for Liturgy, St. Louis U.; St. Raymond Catholic Church, Dublin, CA; Carmelite Order Web; Homilias Domincales.

 

 

 

Harper says, "Welcome in, Everybody."

 

 

Readings:  

 Wisdom 2, 12, 17-20,  The wicked say.

Psalm 54,  The Lord upholds my life.

 James 3, 16-4 3, Where jealousy & selfish ambition exist, there is disorder.

Mark 9, 30-35,  Whoever receives one child.

                   

 

Our Candle Lighter of The Week, Victoria.

 

 

 Wisdom observations:  

What:One of the 14-15 books of the deutero-canonical books of the bible.  Not OT nor NT, but in between and the subject of controversy over the centuries.  The “in between books.”  Were they really part of the bible or not?  How do you know?  Catholic church accepts the books.

Subject matter: the book makes use of traditional Jewish material, as well as ideas borrowed from Greek philosophy, in order to teach that God rewards those who are faithful to him.

 

 

 

Georgie reads the Blessing of the Autumn Candles.

 

 

Author: not Solomon, but a Jew living in Alexandria, Egypt who wrote and spoke excellent Greek.  The book is sometimes called “The Wisdom of Solomon.”

Date: ca. 100-200 before Christ.  How do we know these facts?  Because of text analysis.  For example, while the author wrote in Greek, he uses phrases and expressions that have a Hebrew flavor.  Also, he mentions rulers and places that reveal date and locale. 

Our Selection: what a wicked person thinks should be done with a good person–beat & kill.  This links up with the suffering servant poem from 2 Isaiah last week.  Jews think the good person getting beaten is the Jewish race/nation.  Christians think the person is Christ.

 

James:  presents a pretty negative image of people.  What would be a compassionate image? 

 

 

 

The Best Music, Ben at his Best.

 

 

Says the child, “Numero uno or last??”

This morning I would like to talk about receiving the child. In particular, I would like to focus on the inner child, the child inside all of us, even in old geezers like myself.  

I also want to say a word about the notion of being  first or last.

 

 

 

 

What did you do, Gil?  You got Gene, Bern, and Loretta all laughing.
 

 

 

To exemplify the points, a story.    I have used the story before.  It is too good to bury.   The story, the musical play Most Happy Fella.

The play is about a guy named Tony, middle aged Italian American, successful wine maker from Nappa Valley, and a bachelor.

He eats in a restaurant one evening in, say, Chicago.  He likes the waitress and leaves her a note with his tip, despite his shyness.   They begin a long distance correspondence and start to get close.  Both are looking for partners.

 

 

 

 

The Offertory Team (all characters!): Jan & Sir Charlie, Teresa & Tom (who lost all their checked luggage before they began their cruise.)

 

 They decide to exchange photos.  Tony, who has been taking a lot of risk because he is so shy, is afraid to show her his picture.  He thinks he is too old & too ugly.  So he sends her the photo of his handsome young farm foreman.  The foreman has already told Tony he is planning on moving on anyway.

So Tony and his girl decide to wed at the farm.  On the day of her arrival and the big wedding, Tony discovers that the foreman decided to hang around for the wedding & party.  Tony loses it.  He goes out, rolls his pickup, and almost kills himself. 

 

 

 

Is this not a Full Service Community?  Even to a play room.

 

Meanwhile, the girl arrives and thinks the nice foreman is the groom.  In fact, they get rather enamored of each other.  Then Tony is brought in on a stretcher.  Guess what happens then.  I’ll tell you at the end.

Let me make 2 observations about Tony. 

 

                           

 

A tremendous team when one has parkinsons.

 

 

First, Tony might have had ambitions about being numero uno, but he really thought he was the last, a loser, ugly, and old.  His challenge: get away from thinking best or worst.  Both are traps.  Just accept Tony as okay.

Secondly, when Tony let himself leave the note for the waitress, he was letting his inner child out for a minute.  In his correspondence he was letting that child play.  The child wants to be loved and to play.  Trouble was, the child was not used to getting out and was afraid.   So he tries the picture trick.

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday to our Dearest Twins.

 

 

I can resemble Tony.  Thinking I am first, numero uno in anything, or last, both are traps.  I would propose it is irrelevant.  I am okay just as I am.

Like Tony I have an inner child.  Want to know what the child wants?  Just watch our kids here.  To be loved and to play.  I think this is what I am doing when I ride my bike across Iowa or in the Hotter N' Hell Hundred, and when I hike around  Yosemite.  These are great times for my inner spirit, that is, my inner child. 

   

 

Happy Birthday, Dearest Georgie.  I remember when you were just a cute little girl.  Now look how pretty you are.  What happened??   Whatever happened, you are a terrific young girl.

 

So, two questions today:

First, where do you think of yourself, first, last, or just okay?

Secondly, how do you let your own inner child out to play? 

What happened to Tony?  He eventually became a most happily married fella.  

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Jackie, and thanks so much for all you do for the community.

Readings: Proverbs 9, 1-6; Psalm 34, Taste & See the Goodness of the Lord; Ephesians 5, 15-20; John 6, 51-58

Proverbs:

What are they: a collection of moral & religious teachings in the form of pithy sayings.  For example: "Better to eat a dry crust of bread with peace of mind than to have a banquet in a house full of trouble" (17, 1); "Being cheerful always keeps you healthy" (17, 22).

Some a bit tough: "Don't hesitate to discipline a child.  A good beating won't kill him" (23, 12).

Some amusing: "A nagging wife is like water going drip-drip-drip" (27, 15); "Better to live on the roof than to share the house with a nagging wife" (25, 24). 

 

 

Author: Maybe Solomon is behind chapters 1-29.  Most likely a compilation.  Judging by the examples can it be more obvious whether a male or female was the author and at whom the writers were talking.

Date: Ca. 300 BCE is considered a possibility with material coming from as far back as 900, during the time of Solomon.

Our Selection: Wisdom is personified and she is preparing a feast or banquet to which the simple people are invited.

Sources: Religious Information Service & Wikipedia

The Joy of a First Class Feast

Rather than take responsibility for my ideas today, I am going to blame my Jesuit training and my Jesuit buddies over the years. 

When I came back from my years in East Africa, I took up back packing and camping with a group of Jesuits who had been doing this for some years.  Every year six or eight guys from actually all over the country would choose a destination, gather, and set out for usually two one week back pack trips.  These guys were pretty good and I learned a lot just by tagging along.

However, in the beginning I had one reservation.  The custom was that every year we brought along enough of a certain brew, Jack Daniels, in fact, so that each person might enjoy a shot every evening before dinner.  I remember thinking to myself, 'In my limited experience in camping we never brought this extra weight.'  So why now? 

Well, I learned, I who can be somewhat obsessive about being hard on myself.  In the Jesuit life I had come to understand that while we all are expected to live simply and work hard, occasionally on, say, religious feasts, like the Assumption (which was just celebrated yesterday and which marks the anniversary of my entry into the Jesuits in 1958), I came to appreciate a custom called a first class feast. 

Normally we ate well.  In fact, I can claim that one factor in keeping me a Jesuit for the first years was the cuisine.  We lived in a house with over a hundred Jesuits.  We lived in southwest Louisiana, Grand Coteau, LA, in fact, and we had local guys who cooked cajun.  First time in my life I had 3 prepared hot meals per day.   Because of the rigorous life style I could eat with reckless abandon.  I remember no overweight classmates. 

So this was the norm.  But on special holidays we had first class feasts.  This meant at least that we could talk at meals and probably had ice cream, home made from milk from the large dairy herd on the campus.  We did not have alcohol, but we had tremendous meals. 

My camping trips with these guys carried on the first class feast tradition, even at the cost of lugging in a few extra ingredients.   The custom was that we had a Mass all together about 5:00, then a drink with a hunk of cheese, then soup, a main course, and a desert, like chocolate pudding.  It was terrific.  We had delightful evenings.

Guess what.  The trip we ten just took to Yosemite, my annual pilgrimage, followed the same recipe.  Instead of having Mass before the evening's first class feast, we had a Mass afterward around the campfire on the two occasions we laid over in one beautiful campsite for two nights. 

But at 5:00 the cantina opened and Rob graciously played the role of bartender.  Beth handled the cheese.  Then we had casseroles like chicken or salmon tetrazinni, plus deserts like blueberry cheese cake or apple cobbler.  All the meals had been prepared, dehydrated, and vacuum packed by Rose.  Ray was our main cook.  Mike handled the campfires.

I talk about these feasts because the gospel and the reading from Proverbs both talk about a feast.  Even Ephesians talks about drinking, but negatively, cautioning against drunkenness.  Three observations.

First, these feasts are joys to our lives.  Our ancestors since they came down out of the trees have sat around campfires like we did and they enjoyed their meals.  Harvest celebrations became custom.  These celebrations bring us joy & deeper relationships, happiness and greater inner peace.

Secondly, the best feasts often involve a lot of people.  Look at the covered dish brunches we have here.  Everyone contributes and we have a blast.  I will never forget the covered dish reception Rosemary & I had at our wedding.  In Yosemite everyone seemed to have something to do from Rose who put the food together, to Ray cooking, Mike making the campfire, and Rob & Beth handling the hors d'oeuvres.  Daniel cleaned the pots. 

Thirdly, the first class feast is the paradigm of our celebrations and Masses here on Sunday.   What is unique about it is we intentionally emphasize a spiritual component of the meal, inviting God to be part of our celebration.  Certainly all sorts of people pitch in the make the event special.  Hopefully we too walk out of here with joy & richer relationships, happinesss and greater inner peace.

This reminds me that we ought to have a back to school, beginning of fall Sunday brunch in September.

When was the last time you had this type of feast?  When the next?

Picture 1:  Mass with Stephen (birthday, 19), Kevin, & Sabrina

Picture 2:  Chloe & her granny, Denni

Picture 3:  Anniversary–Bernadette & Gil; Birthday–Marlene

 

 

Welcome to the scene of our 4th Advent and Christmas Eve celebrations, to the most colorful school dining room I have ever seen, and to a marvelous venue for special inspiration.  Legacy Charter School.

 

Readings: 

Micah 5, 1-4, From you shall come one who is to be ruler in Israel

Psalm 80,  Lord, make us turn to you, let us see your face and we shall be saved.   

Hebrews 10, 5-10, Sacrifices and offering you did not  desire  

Luke 1,  39-45,  Mary visits Elizabeth.

 

 

Buddy, you are becoming such a gifted reader.  Thanks to you and thanks to you, Georgie, for shepherding Buddy.

 

 

Homily

The summer of 2015 I was a volunteer referee, of course, unbiased, principled, and open to all gifts.  Chocolate was my favorite.  I was a referee for the Maccabe summer games at the Jewish Community Center, a place that has become something of a second or third home for me.

 

 

Thanks for lighting our 4 Advent candles today, Zoe.  Your hair is gorgeous.

 

The Maccabe Games take place every summer in Jewish Community Centers all over the country and perhaps Canada.  Thousands of kids came to Dallas, and the spirit in the air was terrific.  They were sheltered all over Dallas in JCC family homes.  We had a dozen or so on our block of Tulip Lane.  All together it must be like that at the Olympics.

During the time there were numerous general meetings.  At one of the meetings of no less than 2500 a special event took place.

 

 

Welcome Home from Beirut, Celeste.  It is so good to see you back.  I am jealous of those kids in Beirut who have you as their music teacher.

 

There was a young girl of about 15, Hallie Bernard, who addressed the whole assembly one day.  Hallie had a rare disease.   To recover she needed a bone marrow transplant.  She made an appeal to the parents and kids to get registered and maybe she would find a donor who would save her life.

Hallie immediately had 2500 volunteers.  As word got out to others at the event and beyond, over 6,000 volunteers registered.

 

 

Congratulations, Rick, on losing 30 pounds.  I am proud to know you.

 

As a result, 53 matches were found all over the place, even beyond Dallas & Texas. 

Hallie found a match.  

Guess why the people at the Jewish Community Center and beyond so touch my heart.  

Are people just not good!

 

 

Welcome home from college, Kevin, so good to see you.

 

Our Advent Reconciliation with Mary Jane & Becky (the head of Legacy Charter).

Readings: Acts 7, 55-60; Psalm 97; Revelation 22, 12-20; John 17, 20-26.

"That They May All be One

Last Wednesday I took the Dart train downtown.  I got on the 12:44 at Forest Lane and exited 22 minutes later at Akard & Pacific.  I love to ride this train.  I sit in the first seat of the first car so I can watch the road ahead through the conductor’s cubicle.  On this Wednesday I was going to have lunch at Miguel’s Cantina and spend an hour talking Spanish with a good friend of mine.

After lunch and a great hour of Spanish conversation I caught 2:14 north bound, Parker Road train for Forest Lane & home.  We passed through the underground station of City Place and then arrived at Lover’s Lane.  At this station I watch the conductor come out of his cubicle and lock the door.  I am thinking, Is he taking a coffee break?

What he does, however, is go to the exit door, flip down a metal ramp, and extend part of it out of the train onto the raised platform.  Immediately in comes a young girl in a well used electric wheel chair.  She wheels over to the space right in front of me, spins diagonally, and parks. The conductor picks up the metal plank, unlocks the cubicle, settles himself inside, and off we fly.

The ambience in that train car does a 180 degree turn from casual indiference to awe struck reverence.  The girl was about 15, cute with an auburn pony tail, nice features with light freckles, and a trim upper body with a purple T shirt.  She was talking on the phone.  I never determined what the trouble was with her legs, or if she had any.  All I know is that she had the confidence in manuvering that wheel chair that came only from a lot of practice.

At Walnut Hill the conductor emerged from his cubicle again, did the arrangement with the door, and the girl wheeled out, saying a sweet, "Thank you," as she passed the conductor.  When the conductor came back in, the man across the aisle from me said to him, "Makes you grateful for what you got."  The conductor agreed. 

That young girl did two things in that Dart car just by getting on in her grateful and courageous way.  We were all more grateful for what we have.  Secondly, for a while we were one.  There was a felt difference in each of us, black, white, brown, young, and old. 

Jesus says he wants "That they may all be one."  Wow, do we blow this one!

Nevertheless, despite the past, today we are again called to help others: 1. appreciate, and 2. unite.  Granted, to enable others, I got to be in myself appreciative and united.  A subject for future homilies. 

This young, pony tailed girl touched us all just by her simple presence. 

How do you touch others into appreciation and unity?

Download the homily as an mp3 file.