Sunday Homily, May 6, 2007 – 5th Sunday of Easter

 

 

Welcome Back, Dear Seth.  It is delightful to see you again.

 

Readings:

Ezekiel  18, 25-28,  The Lord’s way is not fair.

Psalm 25,  Remember your mercies, O Lord

Phlippians 2, 1-11,  Because of this, God greatly exalted him

Matthew 20, 28-32,  A man had two sons 

 

 

 

Seth, as delightful as it is to see you, it is even more fun to see you awake.  Hi to your Mama, Monique.

 

 

Ezekiel observations:

Who:  Ezekiel is one of the 3 great prophets, along with Isaiah and Jeremiah. 

When:  He lived in Babylon before and during the  Captivity, ca. 555 before Christ

Message:  condemnation of behavior and promise of divine punishment.  The promise of a brighter future someday.

 

 

 

Welcome in to you, too, Cory and Ben.

 

Do nothing out of selfishness,  rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests, but also for those of others.

I would like to proclaim today a Good News Sunday.  I seem to be overwhelmed lately with bad news.  The Good News is still here. Philipppians says it and people are doing it.  They are not acting out of selfishness.  They are not looking out just for their own interests.  They are caring for others.

 

 

 

Welcome in to you, too, Dearest Harper.

 

 

3 examples.

First, last Tuesday morning Rosemary & I teamed up with Carrie to ride around that Dallas jewel, White Rock Lake.  We meet usually on the north bridge by the doggie park.  She & Paul live on the east side of the Lake.  Rosemary & I ride south down the White Rock Creek path, which is a gem in its own right. 

So Tuesday we are riding south down the eastern shore of the lake.  We take a little loop that puts us on the tail end of Lake Highlands Drive.  We go down a dip and up a slope going left.  I am ahead & hear Carrie call my name.  I go on perhaps 50 yards & don’t see them behind me.  I go back.  Carrie had dropped her chain.

 

 

 

Hi to the Seth Clan, Cameron & Frank, Mary, Monique and Nicole with Mr. Seth.

 

By the time I get there, they have the bike upside down and are fixing it.   I know Rosemary knows how to fix the chain and I am sure Carrie does too.  Everything is going okay but one place the chain is wedged between the seat post and the front derailer.  I join in the effort.  The chain is really wedged.

Meanwhile other bikers are rolling by.   I hear, “Need any help?  “No,” we respond, sure we can fix this thing.  Finally, a black guy rides by and asks the same question.   But instead of passing on, he stops, takes a look, fiddles a bit with the chain, then yanks it into place.  All cheer he hops back on his bike and sails away.

 

 

 

Who is that escorting Erin up the aisle to her wedding?  Can it really be??  Yes, it can!  Erin is being escorted by her very son, The Great Cole.

 

 

You know what struck me?  Perhaps a dozen people rode by and every one of them asked if we needed help. 

The Good News: Care for each other exists.

 

 

 

Erin & Greg,  Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?   (The wedding is taking place on Erin & Greg's home in Spring Valley, TX, small community north of Dallas about an hour on I35.) 

 

 

Secondly.  There is a Jewish temple in Austin.  A five member family from Afganistan moved in recently.  The community from the temple decided to adopt the family, help them get settled, and provide them with the assistance they would need. 

Time passed and the family got settled in okay.  To celebrate, the community took the 5 members of the family one evening to a  Greek restaurant in Austin.  All went well.  There were 18 members of the community.

When the community went to cover all the expenses, the cashier told them there was no charge.  “How come?”, they asked.   

 

 

 

Exchange of Vows.

 

 

“Some man came up and covered all your expenses,” the cashier responded.  “Do you know who he is?”, they asked.  “No,” came the answer, “He did not leave his name nor even his card.” 

“I know only one thing about him, because he comes here occasionally.”   “Yes?”, they asked.  “He is Palestinian.”

(Story came from Rabbi David Stern's sermon on the link.)

The Good News: Care for each other exists.

 

 

 

Here they are everybody, the young couple in Toronto.

 

Thirdly.  In a retirement home in Toronto there is a couple of people, a man and a woman who got to know and care for each other.  Recently they got married.   They walked in, but they sat through the ceremony in chairs marked Mr. & Mrs.  At the time when they were invited to kiss each other, they bumped foreheads.  He is 101 and she is 86.

The Good News: Care for each other exists.

Whom do you care for?

 

 

 

Is that the famous Head Bump?   Yes, definitely.

 

Readings: Acts 15, 1-29; Psalm 67; Revelation 21, 10-23; John 14, 23-29

Mother’s Gift

Some years ago after I had returned to Dallas in the 80’s and my mother was still alive, she had to go to the hospital for some procedure. The hospital was the one on LBJ near Webb Chapel, called Deadman in those days.

She was going to stay for at least a night, so we packed up some of her stuff. It was afternoon. I was driving her west on LBJ and we were talking. Suddenly she patted me on my right thigh and said, "I’m proud of you."

Now at that time I am probably 47 or 48, but her little compliment moved me. It was especially touching because she had never wanted me to go off to the Jesuits and she had gotten so mad I went to Africa that she did not speak to any local Jesuit for some years.

I talk about this on Mothers’ Day because of two reasons.

First, it shows how at whatever age we are, our mother’s compliments and affirmations remain powerful. My mom’s simple compliment touched my spirit. I can still remember it as if it were yesterday.

Secondly, it shows how you mothers have the touch. You can ignite people’s spirits into new life with just a movement or a word. It may seem so simple that it is of little value. This event with my mom exemplifies just the contrary, how valuable it is.

Whom do you touch into new life?

Download the homily as an mp3 file.

Readings:    

Deuteronomy  6, 2-6,   You shall love the Lord

Psalm 18,   I love you, Lord, my strength.

1 John 3, 1-3,   See what love the Father has bestowed on us. (this is from the All Saints readings, p. 75)

Mark 12, 28-34,  Which is the first of all the commandments.

 

All Saints presentation with pictures

All Saints: intro & a brief history

   Intro: 3 feasts—

                      All Saints: (or All Hallowes) those who have achieved the beatific vision according to Catholic Church, based on miracles.

                    All Souls: those who have not achieved the beatific vision and are considered paying for their sins in purgatory.

                    Hallowe’en: the vigil of All Hallowes, a Celtic-Irish harvest, end of summer celebration. 

   History in 2 parts: the Western Catholic Church & the Eastern Catholic Church

                     The West: 4 significant dates, 300, 600, 700, & 800

    Year 300: during this century the early Christians, reeling from persecution, celebrated the feast of All Martyrs.  This is really the foundation of the feast. Year 600: a Pope Boniface dedicated the Pantheon in Rome to Mary & All Martyrs.  May 13 was the celebration because it was also an ancient pagan day of celebration.

  Year 700:  a Pope Gregory set up in St. Peter’s Basilica a side chapel dedicated to All Saints.

   Year 800: Dec. 25, Charlemagne is crowned Emperor by Pope on the red stone in St. Peter’s.  Charlemagne, an advocate of All Saints, established it on Nov. 1, coupling it with a Harvest Feast. 

                    The East:

   Year 900, the Byzantine Emperor Leo the Wise had a beloved, devout wife, Theophano.  She died & Leo built a church which he intended to dedicate to her.  The religious authorities said no, so he dedicated it to All Saints, assuming his wife to be among the saints.

  Note:  later, three big events happen:

          a.  Crusade #4, on its way to fight the Muslims in the Holy Land, captures and wrecks Constantinople, ca. 1200.  J.P. II apologizes for this in 2004. 

          b.  Ottoman Turks or Muslims capture Constantinople, 1450 and rename it Istanbul.  It is Muslim to today.

          c.  Post 1540, Rome condemns Eastern Catholic church as schismatic over theological disputes, i.e., the nature of Jesus.

 Sources: Practicing Catholic by James Carroll, Catholic Encyclopedia on line, Wikipedia.

 The Most Difficult Commandment

Today we have the greatest commandment or the first commandment.  I want to talk about the hardest commandment.

Rosemary has a passion for these British dramas on PBS.  One of her favorites comes on tonight at 7:00, Call the Midwife.  The story takes place ca. 1950 in London on the East Side, a rough ghetto of good people trying to make a penny.  In particular it is about midwives who serve the women.  The group has been set up by some nuns, Anglican, in fact, and they invite help from other trained women.

There is the kind nun, the tough on the outside nun, the young pretty girl shocked by so much drama she is seeing for the first time, and there is Chummy. 

Chummy is a warm and tender midwife with no self confidence.  She acts clumsy and insecure.  She is not from anything like the East Side, rather from a wealthy, cold family where she received little love.  In fact, she spent most of her life in boarding schools.  How she came to work as a midwife in the East Side nobody has said.

Turns out Chummy has attracted the interest of the nice local police man and they have developed a special relationship.  She meets his parents and all goes well.  He wants to meet her mother.  Ugh, oh.

And that’s where we are tonight.  Rosemary tells me that she read or saw in one of her sneak previews on line that Chummy was turning herself in for some infraction and that she was talking about being a nun.  Which leads me to think her relationship with the police man ran aground.  Because her cold, class conscious mother did not approve?

Sorry, I don’t know what happens.  I can tell you in the blog or you can tune in tonight.   Channel 13, 7:00.

Rosemary says, “So why the story??”  Because this exemplifies the way I have approached the Great Commandment forever. 

 There are really 3 commands here, love God, love my neighbor, and love my neighbor as I love myself.  What is the hardest?  For me the third, loving myself.

We get messed up & even ruined as kids in two ways: abuse & neglect.  A kid messed up this way can be messed up for life. We see it all the time, like in the news.  Angry, violent adults and angry, violent kids.

And Chummys.   People without self confidence and courage to risk.  People afraid.  People neglected as children, Chummy. 

I don’t know the outcome, but I can conjecture that Chummy will be afraid to confront her mother and marry the policeman.  Yes, I’ve been sucked into watching this program.  The moral, ethical, and psychological dilemmas are riveting. 

We are called to love ourselves. 

How?

Readings:  Isaiah 9, 1-6; Psalm 96; Titus 2, 11-14; Luke 2, 1-14 (Nativity Drama by the kids)

A Small Nativity, Missed

On the corner of Preston & Forest down in Dallas there is a restaurant that I go to occasionally, PeiWei.  It is on the same corner as Whole Foods.  One day last week I was standing outside the restaurant about 1:30 waiting for my sister to show up. 

While I was waiting I saw coming up Forest from the Central Expressway side a man probably about my age.  Coming very slowly.  His legs were crippled and he was dragging them along with the aid of aluminum crutches.  He was a white guy with gray hair, docker pants, a dark polo type shirt, and a navy blue sport coat.  Black shoes that had been shined.

I watched him for about five minutes as he labored up the slight incline of the street and then as he came up the ramp into the shopping center.  He was heading straight toward the corner sidewalk where I awaited my sister.

I was going to greet him, but before I could say anything he says to me, "So you like Chinese, eh."  I agreed, and then he asked if he could ask me some directions.  "Sure," I said.  He drops his crutches literally on the sidewalk and leaning over he pulls out of his pocket a card which he shows me and asks if I know where Dougherty's Pharmacy is. 

Sure I know where Doughtery's Pharmacy is.  Everyone who lives in that general area of Preston Hollow and beyond knows where Dougherty's is.  It is an independent pharmacy and a years old landmark in the neighborhood.  The man's business card has a hand drawn map on the back showing accurately where the pharmacy is.  I think, "This guy must be from out of town."

Because the trouble is, Dougherty's is not at the busy intersection of Preston & Forest, but at the equally busy intersection of Preston & Royal, one mile south down Preston Road.  Moreover, there are no sidewalks and the bumpy path is rather close to the speeding traffic.  I know about the lack of sidewalks because on Sabbath days I see Jewish families struggling along the paths on foot on their way to or from the temple.

So I tell the man where the pharmacy is and how to get there.  I also tell him that it is a rather daunting walk even for a person able to walk with ease.  He says it is no problem, leans over, picks up his aluminum crutches, hitches them to his his upper arms, and struggles down the sidewalk.  I say, "I would be happy to take you over to the pharmacy, but I am waiting for my sister."  He responds with, "No problem, the walk will be good for me."  "Walk,", I think, "He can maneuver only with great effort."  And off he goes down the sidewalk and eventually around the corner & out of sight while I continue to wait for a few more minutes.

Later I am kicking myself.  "I could have helped him," I think, "driving him the distance and coming back in 5 minutes."  I could have phoned my sister I would be 5 minutes late.  Instead, I just stood there like a dummy. 

I look back on this now as a small nativity moment.  And I missed it.  I want to be more alert and ready for the next one. 

This evening we celebrate the Big Nativity.  We are privileged to have this knowledge.  However, it is the little ones that slip by me.  These little ones sensitize me to the bigger one.

What little nativity has slipped by you recently or slips by you all the time?

AUDIO:  http://mysite.verizon.net/reso7rjy/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/2008-12-24.mp3

Picture 1:  Wendy, Shonda, Ray, & Celeste

Picture 2:  Nativity Drama with the Kids

Picture 3:  Angels and Shepherds

 

 

Readings: Acts Acts 1, 1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1, 17-23; Matthew 28, 16-20, Readings of the Ascension.

Observations on the Ascension in Acts (and in Luke’s Gospel):

• Luke wrote the 2 accounts: the Gospel of Luke & Acts
• Intended to be read as metaphor or symbol, emphasizing a) Jesus is One with God & therefore can be experienced everywhere; b) Jesus is Lord, a value not only for religious reasons but also political reasons at a time when leaders were lords.
• Reasons why it is considered symbolic: a) time is inconsistent–40 days mentioned in Acts, while the Ascension in Luke’s Gospel seems to take place at most a few days after the Resurrection; b)  the archaic view of a 3 story universe is assumed, i.e., heaven above, hell below, earth in the middle.

What Sends You Up?

There is an old 4 story convent in Venice on the north side in Cannaregio.  4 or 5 elderly nuns live there & they have a beautiful private garden behind their convent, which is just a stones throw from the large body of water separating Venice on the north from the mainland.  Also living in the convent are about 25 elderly women and one Ethiopian lady about 50 who is the guest hostess and door keeper. 

In the morning before breakfast maybe 6 of the ladies gather in the entrance area to chat among themselves and with Magda the hostess lady, and to watch the morning’s comings and goings through the main entrance.

One morning I decided I would join these delightful people to practice my Italian which the women all praised at great length.  I’m thinking, these are Venetian women.  I would love to hear their stories, ask what Venice was like during Mussolini’s time, what were their happiest memories, and so on.

So I went down, greeted everyone, and began to ask them about a booklet I had seen on the coffee table that was about the Jesuits.  I began to get looks of incomprehension and I realized I was talking jibberish to them, mixing Spanish into everything I was saying.  I was so deflated.  All this time and effort put into learning Italian and I could not even use the right word for magazine.  I was ready to quit the language.  I’ll never get it.

The next day I get up and decide I will try again.  I prepare ahead of time and take my time getting started.  The ladies were charming and complimentary as ever and all went well.  I went out of there soaring. 

A couple of days later in a taxi in Florence I had the driver reinforce my positive experience.  He not only says my Italian is good, but that I got the rythm and accent.  That compliment sent me over the moon.

What sends you up? 

We talk about the Ascension today and I would propose that ascension moments are available to all of us.  I would distinguish between passive and active moments.

For example, my moments of language success were active, in the sense that I worked to achieve them and success really sent me up. 

I can work to put together a celebration like we had last night and have an ascension moment all evening and for days afterward.  Our Sunday celebrations do that for me. 

Helping Karina and her mother in Cuernavaca.  Our decades long tree project and the joy of seeing the trees blossom in spring with new growth.  Some of the trees we planted in the 80’s I can’t believe they were small such a short time ago.  I can only imagine the high Tom got running the Boston Marathon.  Beth has been working toward her nationals swim meet yesterday in Austin.  Rob says she’s done really well. 

There are passive or vicarious moments that send me up.  Our music at Mass, watching Kovatis chase the little kids around the cafeteria, watching Maggie & Chloe play during Mass, Chloe & Hunter dancing last night.  My first cup of coffee on the back porch in the morning.  Listening to Handel or Vivaldi’s 4 Seasons.

These moments are the spice of life.  Some come as gifts, others involve effort, but are worth it. 

On this feast of the Ascension, what sends you up? 

AUDIO: http://mysite.verizon.net/reso7rjy/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/2008-05-04.mp3

Readings:

Isaiah  9, 1-6,  The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light.

Psalm 96,    Today is born our Savior, Christ the Lord.

Titus 2, 11-14, The Grace of God has appeared.

Luke,  2,  1-14,  In those days a decree went out from Caesar August.  The Nativity narrative.

 

Merry Christmas, Nora, your first one.  How was it being Jesus in the Nativity Play? 

 

Isaiah: author, date, subject, today’s selection–

   Author: This is probably my most favorite book in the Old Testament.  Isaiah is one of the Big Three OT prophets along with Jeremiah & Ezekiel.  This is because of the size of the work, 66 chapters, but even more so because Isaiah is so beautiful and influential in the Christian story. 

There are really three Isaiahs, chapters 1-39, 40-55, & 56-66.  How do we know?  Simple.  Different styles of writing, different vocabularies, different slants to the message, references to places.

 

Merry Christmas to all you Quinns and thanks for  bringing up the Offertory.

 

   Date: 1 Isaiah, our selection is put together ca. 700 before Christ.  2  Isaiah, ca. 500 before Christ; 3 Isaiah, ca. 400 before Christ.

   Subject: As always, there have been predictions of doom & destruction because of the badness of the people. 

Today’s selection: This passage, however, is the flip of this.  Listen for words like rejoicing, making merry, joy, peace, a God-hero Child is born.

Source:  Good News Bible, Bishop John Shelby Spong

 

 

 The littlest Quinn, Vivienne.

 

Christmas Eve Homily

This afternoon I would like to tell you a Christmas story.  It is about a kid and his grandmother at Christmas.  

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

 

 J.J. and The Smile.

 

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight up with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted…."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

 

And Merry Christmas to you, too, Charlotte.

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

 

Our Angels.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

 

 

 The Best, Wendy, Shonda, & Ray.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter.

His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

 

 

Meals on Wheels food pick up.

                                                                                                                                                                                  

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

 

 

 A beautiful Christmas morning for delivering Meals on Wheels.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

 

Our Drivers, Ro & Aviana, ready to go.  This is a big  operation.

 

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

 

 

 The Great Shepherds, Jake & Leo.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were — ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

 

 

 Merry Christmas Rosemary, Mike, and Geri.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always believe in the magic of kindness and caring of Santa Claus!