Sunday Homily, March 25, 2018, Palm Sunday

Readings: Isaiah 11, 1-10; Psalm 72; Romans 15, 4-9; Matthew 3, 1-12

Isaiah: Once in a while in the course of our church calendar year we get a special selection.  Isaiah’s vision is one of those specials.  Read it and watch out for heart ache.  I imagine one of our ancestors centuries ago dreaming and coming up with this vision.  Later, another of our ancestors writes it down. 

To emphasize how special it is, Emily will read the vision, after her mom Julie has read the introduction.

What is Your Dream?

In the late 60’s I spent four years in Toronto studying theology before I finally got ordained a priest in ’71.  At the beginning of my second year a new class of about 35 Jesuit priest students came in and one of the new guys got the room next to mine on the third floor.  He was unique: he was blind.

His name was Larry and he was also a cheese head and a Jesuit brother, meaning he was not going to be ordained a priest. Brothers are Jesuits who do all sorts of works, just not saying Mass.

Larry had spent a few years teaching at a Jesuit boarding high school in Prairie du Chien, WS.  During his time there, a number of Jesuits & others had encouraged Larry to looking into moving from being a brother to getting on track to get ordained a priest.  Trouble was, blind people did not get ordained. 

When Larry arrived at our college in the fall of my second year, he had been given permission to try studying theology, the subject necessary for ordination.  Consequently, he was studying on condition.  You do okay, you continue.  You don’t do well, you stay a brother.  Guess what: he did fine and all of us made him a project.  We wanted him to succeed.

After his first year, which was successful, the provincial in WS asked Rome if he could be ordained.  Rome’s response, "No."  After his second equally successful year, they asked Rome.  "No, and don’t ask again.  Blind people don’t get ordained."  After his third year, his provincial asked again.  "Yes," they said.

He was ecstatic.  We were ecstatic. 

The fall of his fourth year, this same second Sunday of Advent in the chapel of our college his class was getting ordained deacons, which is done before getting ordained priest in the spring.  The reading of that Sunday was exactly the same Isaiah reading as this morning, the dream of peace reading.  Larry was chosen to read the Isaiah dream passage–in braille.

That whole chapel was all in tears.  It was one of the special moments of my life.

Larry is still working as a Jesuit priest in Omaha or Milwaukee.  I even used to bring him down to help with retreats I ran at the retreat center I directed in Grand Coteau, LA.  We have not been in touch in probably about ten years.  I have to call him.

My friend Larry had a dream.  Our ancestor Isaiah had a dream. 

I would suggest that to be fully alive we have to have a dream.  Dreams fill me with energy, enthusiasm, and life.  Ideally my dream will also give life to others. Larry’s dream to get ordained gave life to all 100 plus of us Jesuits in that big house.  Isaiah’s dream, while unrealistic, can still energize me into creating peace in some small human way.

What must it be like to not have a dream? 

What is your dream?

AUDIO: http://mysite.verizon.net/reso7rjy/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/2007-12-09.mp3

Readings:

Isaiah  56, 1-7,  I will bring them to my holy mountain.

 Psalm 67,   Oh, God, Let all the nations praise you.

Romans1, 13-15, 29-32  I am speaking to you Gentiles.

Matthew  15, 21-28,  It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.

 

Isaiah 56 observations:

As soon as you see Isaiah, chapter 56, you know some things, if you are into the study of the Bible and especially  of Isaiah, my favorite.

1.  Isaiah 56 is Isaiah 3, chapter 56-66, the end of the book of Isaiah.
2.  Isaiah 3 is put together after the Babylonian Captivity, that is, around 555 before Christ.
3.  The Israelites have returned to Jerusalem, a totally destroyed, depressed city.
4. Therefore, it is plausible to expect Isaiah 3 to be trying to lift up the spirits of the people.  This he does, consoling the people with promises of a better time.   Note: the better days are conditional on good behavior.  Ever think of how our whole redemption story is conditional? Not much unconditional love.   In other words, if you want my love and favor, behave.

Matthew:

I think I will pass on commenting on this gospel.  I don't like it.  I only partially understand the culture Matthew was dealing with in the story.  And most of the commentaries simply try to explain away how harsh the story is. 

 

Them I will bring to my holy mountain

Of all the lines in the readings this morning, the line that touches me the most talks about bringing the people to the holy mountain.  I am touched for two reasons.

First, you know how much I love to go camping in the mountains, and especially the mountains of Yosemite and the Sierras.  In fact, on the 2^nd of September about 8 of us are headed to Kings Canyon, one of two parks just south of Yosemite, to do our annual 10 day back packing trip.

Secondly, the mountain is a metaphor for the state of peace. 

I would like to suggest two observations about going to the mountain of peace.

First, we get there easier and with greater happiness with others.

Secondly, sometimes the mountain is not what we expect or remember from a previous visit.

 

Three little stories of the week. 

Probably July of 2004, as usual, I took a group of 8 guys to my favorite hike in Yosemite.  I call it the Matterhorn Canyon trip. On about the 4^th day we have to hike over Burro Pass, about 11 K feet.  There are three passes on this trip.  Two are called Burro and this one is in the middle.  Matterhorn Canyon is precisely where we camped out for the night. 

We get up and go up the canyon and then up switch backs non-stop for a few hours. It is hard on everyone.  On this trip it is especially hard on one guy.  He is out of shape and gasping for breath.  I am afraid he is not going to make it.

So I get to the pass, dump my pack, return down the switch backs, take his pack, and up we go together.  We make it.  Over the pass and below is my most favorite campsite in the whole world.  We set off and get there, too.

Sitting around the fire that evening, I had a strong sense of accomplishment, contentment, and peace.  I was able to help someone to the top who might not have made it otherwise. This is on top of the fact that I am in heaven.

The second story takes place on the same favorite hike, Matterhorn Canyon, but in 2009.  This time guess who is having the rough time, not because of being out of shape.  The hips are shot.

That year I could go up, but just walking was rough and going down was really rough.  I had to borrow two ski poles.  Rose Banzhaf loaned me the poles and walked with me.  Mike Moran helped me get across streams and watched out for me.

The last morning after an 8 mile hike out, everyone has already been at the little restaurant at the trail head and I am just hobbling along, Rose sticking with me.  At about a mile out, I surrender and Rose calls for help from a car.  Tom & Daniel Fleming come to the rescue.  I will always remember the sight of Daniel coming toward me to take my backpack.

I had made it to the peace of the mountain.  I just needed help to get down.  Still peaceful.  Then, the decision was easy.  I got new hips within 5 months.  And last year we visited my favorite Matterhorn Canyon for the first time.  Talk about gratitude and peace.

The third little story comes from the Matterhorn trip last year.  I was longing to return to that favorite campsite after coming over Burro Pass.  We got there and I am saying, “This can’t be it.”  The campsite, which I have used perhaps 6 times, was a wreck, trees all knocked down, the stream following a different course.  It was the campsite.  60 mile an hour straight line winds had passed through and seemed to hit just that spot especially hard.

We camped there even though I was bummed.  I could see the places where I could remember some of our people camping in previous years.  But it was a mess. 

We spent a whole day there and with time I discovered that across the creek was a really nice level campsite.  That will be for next time.

Two thoughts. 

It is so nice to climb the mountain of peace with company, and even to come down.

The mountain may not be what I expected.  But peace can still be found by searching around.

Where is your mountain and who are your companions on the climb?

 

 

 

Readings:

Ezekiel  18, 25-28,  Is it my way that is not fair?

 Psalm 25,   Remember your mercies, Oh Lord.

Philippians 2, 1-11,  God greatly exalted him.

Matthew 20, 1-16,  The man who had two sons. 

 

Homily by John Cade

Homily:  I want to focus today on Jesus’ teaching that God is now and was always with us, and how we can see God. There’s that Bible verse in today’s Responsorial Psalm 86 vs.5 that says “You, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness.” Stack has said it’s his favorite line in the Bible.  I decided to google this verse and found the same words in multiple places in the Bible.  Psalm 145: vs. 8-9 has exactly the same lines. And Psalm 103 vs. 8 has the same.  And it’s not just in the Psalms.  The Book of Exodus Ch. 34, verse 6 reads, “The Lord is a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness.” The Book of Joel Ch. 2, verse 13 has exactly the same line. And the Book of Jonah Ch. 4, verse 2 has the same.

 

The take-away from those verses that describe God as “gracious and merciful, slow to anger and rich in kindness,” could be that whenever we see those traits and those behaviors, we are seeing God.  Jesus’ said the kingdom of God is here, and is experienced when we share mercy and kindness with one another.

On July 4^th I joined a group of family and friends for the Fair Park fireworks display. At the end of the evening Leo & Freddie, seeing fireworks for the first time, said, “This was the coolest ever.”

Later I remembered some of what I saw and experienced about being gracious and showing kindness.

1. I got to Fair Park early and walked around, then sat on a bench eating a corn dog slathered with mustard. I saw a woman walking with 2 children and an infant in a stroller. The little one dropped a stuffed toy to the ground. Another woman saw it and, noticing the mother hadn’t seen it happen, called out to her and pointed to it.  They made eye contact and I saw them connect with a smile as the mother picked up the toy. This was a brief but gracious human contact.
2. At one point after our group got together at the lagoon, my nephew Merik, offered to take Leo and Freddie on a walk around the lagoon. He entertained them for 30 or 40 minutes, and his act of kindness allowed the other adults time to visit.
3. Gina, a close friend of my daughters Joey and Sam, came with her husband and 2 daughters, who are a little older than my grandsons. Gina thought about the 4 kids who would be there and brought snacks for all of them and also light sticks to make necklaces or bracelets or, like Freddie, just to wave around. The kids loved it and I took note of her thoughtful kindness.
4. Most of the group had gotten snow cones while walking around. So I decided to get in line for a snow cone for myself (I was told that there were sugar free ones) and for Gina’s daughter who had missed out on one. It was a really long line of more than 30 people. After a while I struck up a conversation with a woman in line. Later another woman, also in line, joined in the conversation. At one point the latter woman, who was sort of ahead of me and the first women (line not straight but uneven), offered that we both go ahead of her. Of course by this point we had all been in line a long time and had tired feet. That was another act of kindness and mercy.

My question: when have you seen God lately?  And when do others see God in you?

 

 

 

Welcome to The Team this Sunday, Mike.

 

 

Readings:

Exodus 17, 8-13,  Joshua mowed down Amelek and his people.

Psalm 121,  The Lord Our help is from the Lord, who made heaven & earth.

2 Timothy 3, 14-4, 2,  Remain faithful to what you have learned.

Luke 18, 1-8,  The persistent widow & the ornery judge.

 

 

 

Georgie helping Leo with the candles.

 

He is beside you at your right hand: In praise of Pete Wacks

It often strikes me as disappointing when I hear or give a eulogy.  Why?  Because the person has no say, like ‘He’s lying,’ or ‘Why did you not tell me all those good things while I was alive?!’

Pete Wacks was one of my best buddies at Christ the King grade school and at old Jesuit.  Moreover, he is alive and most of this story I have told him. 

 

 

Ben, I'm envious of your Zeke Elliott do.   Maybe if I could do that with my hair Rosemary might love me a little bit.

 

When we were adolescents Pete was the guy I would like to have been.  He was well built without even working out.  This was the age of flat tops.  His was the best.  He was one of the guys we all hung around together.  Which scared me when Msgr. Bender thundered one Sunday, “If your friends are going to hell, you will too.”  One story why: the German Shepherd event.

It was a Friday night football game at Highland Park, our junior year.  As we walked out of the stadium early we saw a friendly German Shepherd on a chain under the north stands.  We, the three of  us, got into my dad’s black & white ‘54-‘55 4 door Chevie.  I used it for my morning paper route. 

 

 

Welcome home, Kevin.

 

Going east on Lovers Lane we got the red light at Preston.  Lo and behold, right in front of us was the German Shepherd in the University Park dog wagon.  We did not think twice.  Pete seated next to me and Jerry in the back both jumped out and let the Shepherd out, he jumped into the front seat next to me, and off we headed north onto Preston.  We had not gone 20 yards when, bam, we are engulfed in the red lights of the University Park police.

 

 

 

It takes a community to get suited up around here.

 

The cop told us to follow him to the station and there we were asked to get the dog out, which we did.    After grilling us we spent 3-4 hours in a jail cell.  Meanwhile Jerry had been begging them not to call his parents.  His mom was just on the verge of delivering her 9^th or 10^th child.  About 12:30 they released us.

The police never called our parents.

This is just one of the episodes that characterized our adolescent years.  See why I joined the Jesuits?

 

 

 

Welcome in, David.  When I was a young Jesuit teaching at Jesuit in the '60's, David was one of our star assistant principals. 

 

Guess what: I recounted this story to Pete last Monday when we visited him in Chicago.   He could not remember it!  Instead of joining the Jesuits, Pete joined up with the F.B.I. & worked for 35 years.  He also got into running, doing the Chicago Marathon ca. 12 times, plus the Boston, N.Y., and some others.

Pete retired in “97 .    He is now bedridden and has amyloidosis, plus a few other conditions. I know our loving God is waiting to embrace him.

 

 

Welcome in, Catherine, Becca, and Grace.

 

 

Palm Sunday Procession begins.

 

 

Readings: 

Entrance, Luke 19, 28-40.

Isaiah 50, 4-7,  I give my back to those who beat me.

Psalm 22,  My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?

Philippians 2, 6-11, God greatly exalted him.

Luke 22, 14-23, The  Passion.   

Holy Thursday & Good Friday, 7:00, Marlene's, 2017 Keystone, Plano.

 

Palm Sunday procession.

 

Palm Sunday continues.

 

 

Buddy reading The Blessing of the Lenten Candles, all 5 plus 1.

 

 

 

Happy Mother's Day, Cathy, and Happy Grandmother's Day, too.

 

Readings: 

Acts of the Apostles, 13, 14, 43-52, The Gentiles were delighted.

Psalm 100,  We are his people, the sheep of his flock. (excellent stanzas)

Revelation 7, 9, 14-17,  I, John, had a vision of a great multitude.

John 10, 27-30, My sheep; hear my voice.

 

It's a Family Affair, Zoe & Tori lighting our Easter candles with the help of their big sister Georgie.  And Buddy reading the Easter Blessing of the Candles.

 

 

 

Observations on Acts

Date: Sometime before the year 70.  Why?  No mention of the destruction of Jerusalem, which took place the year 70, an enormous date in Jewish history.

Who: The same person who wrote the Gospel of Luke.  How do we know.  Similarities of style, language (Greek), and theological themes.

Subject: the story of the expansion of the Jesus story in 3 areas, first, Jerusalem, then, Palestine or the Holy Land, and finally, into the Mediterranean and, ultimately, Rome. 

Sources, Good News Bible, The New Interpreter's Study Bible, Wikipedia

 

 

Another Family Affair for the Offertory, John & Connie & Kevin.

 

Mother's Day History:

1905-08: Anna Jarvis of West Virginia began this celebration for her mother, Ann, who cared for wounded Civil War soldiers of both sides.  She campaigned to make it a national day and in 

1914:  Woodrow Wilson made it national.

The spelling: always singular, according to Anna. 

Hallmark Cards: Anna hated them because she felt you know what.  

 

 

 

The Communion Team,  Lynda & Tom, Claire & Denni.

 

The Lord is Good, Psalm 100, Today’s second stanza

In honor of Mother’s Day, I would like to share two stories about my mom and our relationship.  Or why she was probably glad to see me get on that train taking me to the Jesuit Novitiate in Grand Coteau. LA.

Both events took place in the delightful Spring of 1957.  I was 17 and a junior at Jesuit.  Both involve my mom’s car, a light blue, low slung probably ’55 Pontiac sedan. 

 

 

Sez Buddy, "I'm worn out, Georgie."

 

 

So I came home from school one afternoon, wanted to go for a ride, and found that my mom had taken her car keys, which meant she did not want me driving around in her car.  I was allowed to drive my dad’s Chevy when it was home.

In those days a person could hot wire a car’s ignition and drive off.  Guess what I did.  I got all the way on my street, Stanford, to the corner with Preston, a block & a half.  Then the tin foil fell off of the ignition and the car died.

While I am trying to rectify this operation, a car turns off of Preston onto Stanford.  Guess who was in it.  Yep, my mom with one of her bridge buddies.   I gave up the idea of going for a ride and returned home to a chilly reception.

 

 

 

The Special Mother's Day Blessing.

 

 

The second time I had been given the keys to mom’s car and I went to hang out at a cleaners shop on Preston just south of NWST Highway.  A buddy, Jerry, worked there afternoons providing curb service to customers.  

Shortly after I arrived a University Police car pulled up next to me and asked me to come with them to the station to be questioned about another of our friends who stole neighborhood  cars.  I got into the squad car and the other cop brought my mom’s car.

 

 

Mother's Day Blessing.

 

I was questioned about what I knew about my friend joy riding in stolen cars.  That was not as scary as it sounds.  University Park in those days was a small, middle class village on the northern edge of Dallas.  Since grade school we had known the cops by name and they knew us by name occasionally.

The thing that really steamed my mom was that the police had come to the door to ask where I was.  She happened to be hosting the afternoon bridge club, the other ladies mostly being moms of my buddies.  She was so embarrassed and ashamed.  Moreover, what she was mad about was the fact that the cop drove her car to the station.

 

 

 

The Blessing.

 

I never found out what happened to my car thief buddy.  He was with us at Christ the King grade school, but did not go on to Jesuit.  I do know he is still alive, living outside of Dallas. Want to know why I thought I was surely going to hell?  By  your friends shall you be known.  But, God is good.

Where are you going?

 

Bona Responds again, Tom & Bill & Richard, Michelle & Georgie & Bernadette.