Soulful Muse

Of course, things and events have different meanings for us as we age. Youngsters absorb like a sponge and oldsters squeeze out what life’s either given or what we’ve contributed to it. Where do the fruits of grace fit into life’s picture?

Leave it to the Catholics to divide up a good thing instead of keeping it mysteriously whole. The Church has “actual” and “sanctifying” types of grace. Sanctifying is received through the seven sacraments, and actual comes out of living a worthwhile life (or attempting to live a worthy life). Both emanate from our Creator like the “dewfall” which the priest says during Mass. Dewfall is an apt word for this mysterious substance that fills us up when life is affirmative and carries us through life’s doubtful or dark episodes.

Who created the concept of grace? Grace’s founder doesn’t matter to me, only that grace as matter, matters. It matters because it is another indication that God is present in our world. This invisible and omnipotent presence is present among us even if through the mystery. The same is true about angels. Perhaps it’s the angels that drop the dewfalls of grace upon us throughout our lives?

A ninety-three-year-old friend of mine told me how grace becomes more remarkable as we age. Grace-filled oldsters never lose the imagination of youngsters. We just sometimes forget. Possibly oldsters senses can be heightened through grace’s power. One author said it’s a deliberate activity as we age to become more observing and inquisitive. What came naturally in youth needs to be sharpened and reminded to the rest of us. “Been there, done that” has no room in an older adult disposition. You can exclude, “It is what it is” as well.

Instead, a heightened sense of sense emerges. The next time you return from a mall try to recall as many people as you can. Where were they when you spotted them? What color blouse was she wearing? Did his shoes match his suit? Where was outside light the brightest in the mall? What odors did you sense walking past the cosmetic counters? Who looked at you while walking and who ignored you?

Your visit to the mall now becomes a grace-filled experience. Don’t restrict grace to only “churchy” stuff but all of the stuff of life. The Blessed Mother Mary was full of it, and we can fill ourselves with it as well. A mall’s visit can be as spiritual as a church’s religion. Both contain the absence and abundance of this mysterious substance that fills our entire lives with optimism and hope. It is grace in all its graceful displays.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com
“Soulful Muse,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,”
inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

“No, no, no.” The “no” is always said in threes and sounding much like Hamlet’s mother saying, “She protests too much, me thinks.“

“You must be thinking of someone else but not me,” says the person to the priest who considered him/her for a volunteer position in the parish or a commitment to Jesus Christ.

“I’m much too busy, I have three kids, what more do you want from me?” Yeah, right. Best Buys announces free 72-inch flat screens to the first 100 people, and suddenly your calendar frees up and you’re the first at line…at 5:00 a.m. You’re given two free Packer tickets, and you say, “Do I have three kids?”

Jesus chose twelve guys who had no qualifications except something that Jesus saw in them. None were trained for the work he needed to be done, and many died a sad death because of him.

Listen to this from 1941,

(musical insert) “Your lips tell me ‘No, no’ but there’s ‘Yes, yes in your eyes, I’ve been missing your kissing just because I wasn’t wise….”

Your boyfriend finally gets up the courage to go to Kessler’s Jewelers and makes a down payment and presents you a ring at Pizza Hut. (It had to be Pizza Hut because of the cost of the ring.) He sees “no, no” in your eyes but asks anyway for your hand and for your life to be with him. You smile at him because you expected the question to be asked two weeks ago. (Why does it take guys so long to pop?) You say, “Yes,” to all his apprehensive and multiple “No’s” that he’d said to himself in his thin-skulled head for the past two weeks.

(musical insert) “Your lips tell me ‘No, no’ but there’s ‘Yes, yes in your eyes.”

But now a bit about me to make my point. The Salvatorians, my religious order, had me pegged as a TV star. I’m attractive and smart…I’ve been on television many times and over twenty-five years in radio. I was to be a hit. I kept saying, “Yes” to that but there was no reply to my grand future stardom. I’m am attractive and smart (I think I said that already) but life led me to say “Yes” to over twenty-years with older adults that I will forever cherish. My “Yes” led me to be here with you to haunt and challenge you; as much as I challenge and haunt myself. And, believe me, I haunt and challenge myself a lot.

Jesus tells us to say one “Yes” after our numerous “No’s.” “Oh, but Father if you only knew my situation, my circumstances…” Father says, “It’s one meeting a month.” “Oh, says the ’no-no-no’ person” but then says:

“I get tired easily after work”
“I don’t know that many people in the parish”
“Is there a stipend involved for being a volunteer”
“There’s a rerun of ”Gunsmoke” that night”
“I have to check with my wife.” (Always a good cop-out – blame the wife)
“My psychiatrist, Dr. Nutt, said that I should cut back on activities…”
and my favorite one of all is
“6-8 p.m. is my cocktail time”

This “No-No-No-I Don’t Want To” leads you to an invitation (or acknowledgment) of something inside yourself that someone else has identified in you that you didn’t know about yourself. Do you want to hear that scaringly true sentence again? (It happens often, folks.)

Please don’t dismiss the invitation. Ponder it. Prayer it. Hell, you’ll get to work with two attractive and smart priests. Talk to your friends about it to get them involved.

Tell Father or your friend, “No-no-no three times the same as Peter said in the garden but then, in faith, in reflection, and with good luck, say what the Blessed Mother and Peter only needed to say once, “Yes, Lord.”

(musical insert) “Your lips tell me ‘No, no’ but there’s ‘Yes, yes in your eyes.”

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,”
inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

Poetic Life Leaves (at the beginning of Mass)

In this early fall season, she has left us…or wait? Has she left us or has she left us with all kind of leaves to continue our “coloring?” Because the leaves from trees are just like our lives. We all know that leaves change color through time. Each color calls us to a new direction, a new perspective, a new challenge. And the tree, by the way, is our Creator God, the root of our lives. Our colorful leaves are green, yellow and gold. (I see them changing colors on my front porch while I wrote.)

God’s planted the tree of life, and we, the leaves, slowly grow as spring begins. The leaves grow to be a deep green because that is the beginning of life with all it’s adventures…and misadventures. Maturity’s yellow becomes your new leave’s color because it’s the ambition and excitement of both love and work and that lead you to a good job as a nurse, therapist and a loving husband and then discovering another loving partner. (We all should all be so lucky!)

So many years pass and that yellow leave gladly or reluctantly yields itself to life’s golden color of gold but still preserving life’s hope which often can change to melancholy in the later years. The gold of admiring the real version of TV’s fictitious show, “Eight is Enough.” (Almost had a baseball team!) And how many prayers of good wishes and goodwill were sent God’s way for her children, grandchildren, and friends.

Gold. It’s called the standard. Gold, the senior years of cherished memories, travel, grandchildren and church involvement. It’s also the total reflective time on a life worthy of God’s creation. God gave us green to begin with, and we humbly and faithfully turn God’s gift to gold. God smiles upon our changing colors as age ages us on. God accepted us at the beginning of our lives but embraces us through all the rest of it.

God both embraced and embraces her (past and present) – through all of her greens of growing up, all of her professional yellowings with a growing family, loving spouses and in professionally helping and assisting others on their changing colors. I used past and present for “embrace” because God embraced her through all the trials and successes of her life’s adventure and now (presently) embraces her with her reward. (I hate the word “reward” because it tells us that we somehow earn what was never ours in the first place.) God now welcomes and embraces her – complete with her all frailties and shortcomings (stuff that we all have), her welcoming smiles and all her successes. “Frailties” are now forgotten by us but offered up to God, the “welcomes” and “successes” are the enduring memories that will live in our hearts this day and every day afterward.

I didn’t know her, but she seemed to enjoy my preaching, she had good taste, but I must turn now to a real preacher and the poetry Petula Clark,

“So you can color my world with sunshine yellow each day
Oh, you can color my world with happiness all the way
Just take the green from the grass and the blue from the sky up above
And if you color my world, just paint it with your love
Just color my world.”

Sermon, following the Gospel

You reply to your friend, “I’m puzzled by what you just said.” Puzzled, meaning that the pieces don’t fit together. The thought was not clearly stated as a puzzled is neatly assembled.

Well, welcome to the adventure we call life. Unlike a picture puzzle, life has a way of unraveling, boredom, surprises, setbacks, and successes. And as Christians, we meld all of life together as a faithful response to the life we call a “gift from God.”

Funerals are always a time for review of someone’s life. Not judging but gently weighing the life one led. Today we offer up her completed puzzle to our loving Creator. We offer her life in gratitude, thanksgiving and in humility.

I like the image of a puzzle because it’s the way we figured life should be lived; precisely and perfectly brought together. Everything about our lives ought to be neatly assembled and then when completed, gazed upon with happiness and satisfaction. Yet, we all know that life has its own twists and turns. Sometimes in life, we even try to push pieces together as though pushing will help but two puzzle pieces just will not fit together. When those pieces just don’t fit they are life’s hardships, but Alice never chose bitter. During assembling you may even discover an important piece is missing. You look under the table, check the puzzle box, but it’s nowhere to be found. The puzzle has a missing piece. It happens to us all at different times in our lives.

The missing piece is never retrieved, and we learn to live without it. That’s when we cue Frank Sinatra as he sings, “That’s Life.” You haven’t lived if you’d never been all of them: “a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn, and a king.” How about adding to the list her interests as “snowblower” and “auto mechanic?”

How many puzzled faces entered her office searching to reassemble a piece of their life’s puzzle? Or, to find that missing piece? And, if she were good, I’d suspect she’d wouldn’t tell them how or why but guide them to that missing piece or pieces.

Today, family, friends, interests, and activities are all puzzled together for us about Alice’s life.

St. Paul says, “We look not to what is seen but to what unseen…what is unseen is eternal.” I think putting together the blue sky in a puzzle is the most difficult because it’s all the same color. Only the size of the pieces differ. I’d call the blue sky our search for God and spirituality. We look upward for answers when only questions are raised. We look upward for a blueprint when only clues are provided to us. We look upward for consolation and guidance, and we do find it – especially in family and friends who show us the face of God. During her life, how was she able to reflect God’s goodness, patience, and protection? You know, sometimes when we can’t find that missing piece we find in another person. That significant person can connect us when we couldn’t connect it  ourselves. (I think that’s call marriage or a good friendship.) We take the yoke of Jesus upon our shoulders whenever we connect with someone – whether her children, neighbor, friends or parishioners. (I was told that I couldn’t mention the importance of family enough. It’s the bedrock of our human existence and the image of Church that keeps us gathering together. Often the missing puzzle piece in families is the quality of mercy, the Pope’s favorite word. Reassembling our family’s puzzle only occurs when the humble expression of forgiveness and mercy is offered after strong disagreements or arguments.

This may sound corny, but I believe it in faith. The completed puzzle happens right now in her new life with God. All the pieces of her life’s puzzle were given to her at her baptism, how many years ago. She put together and connected as best she could – sometimes failing (welcome to the human race!) and other times hitting the mark on the head (that’s called God’s grace living within us.)

At Alexian Village where I worked for many years, there’s a public table with puzzle pieces strewed around. Anyone walking by can take a chance with a piece here and there. I think that’s the influence of other people in our lives. Advice, whether misguided or honest is offered to us, but we ultimately live our lives alone. She seemed to allow mistakes to happen in her children so they would learn for themselves life’s right decisions. Not bad advice for young parents these days.

Her life’s picture puzzle is now complete with God’s welcoming embrace. “Behold, I make all things new again,” St. John tells us, Jesus is “the beginning and the end.” To those who remain may we continue to assemble bits and pieces of our lives as best we can. Let’s all keep trying.

And let’s keep looking for that missing piece. It’s got to be around here, somewhere.

Real Leaves but not read at the funeral

Dark green leaves bring you to life. Your mom tells you that you’re a snowflake, unique and unequal to anything or to anyone. You boast of this to yourself and others for many years, carrying that snowflake fallacy. You find yourself now turning a soft yellow and still living with your aging parents with a part-time job that you don’t like. The rich gold color arrives, but you find yourself empty – your parents are now gone, and you live with your girlfriend of fifteen years. Gold turns quickly to brown, and you discover that she’s left you for a guy with a full-time job and you are now all alone. You make an appointment to see her to figure out this “snowflake” thing but skipped it instead and stop at a bar. You move into a 55-plus apartment where bologna and jello are the main entree, and there’s Bingo at 7:00 p.m.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com
“Soulful Muse,” inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

‘My friend, I am not cheating you. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what is yours and go. What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?’ Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Matthew 20: 1-16a

The definition says, “It’s a structure consisting of a series of bars or steps between two upright lengths of wood, metal, or rope, used for climbing up or down something.”

Well, there you have it. It’s a “structure” meaning it’s firm, reliable and lasting. “Between two upright lengths,” meaning you have something to grab a hold of. “Wood, metal or rope;” what you make it out of doesn’t matter, just as long as it lasts. Finally and most importantly, “used for climbing up or down something.” To the dictionary’s clean definition of climbing up or down “something,” I would add the word “someone.” It’s the “someone” that has our attention this Sunday.

There. You now have in one complete sentence the U.S. definition of work, value, and worth. Yet, where’s the dignity, where’s the compassion, where’s the unity? (All Churchy words by the way – dignity, compassion, unity.)

“If you work hard enough, you will succeed” has been our axiom for generations. You can now erase that thought.

“Dedication and loyalty will serve you and the company well; well into the future.” Get out your erasers because there’s another goner statement.

“If you fail or are having a difficult time, others will support and help you learn your trade.” Still got your Ticonderoga Number Two pencil? Now turn it around and erase that statement as well.

Now we’re settled. Now we’re set to talk about the real world and the way things are and the way they were meant to be.

A young person these days may have ten or fifteen jobs before reaching retirement or acquiring retirement’s wealth. Those jobs are void of anything I said before about commitment or value. A lack of investment now fills the marketplace. If the company will not invest in you then why should you personally invest in the company?

“But I worked so much harder,”

Jesus tells us that walking those church doors destroys the structure I identified at the beginning. Jesus destroys all our worldly notions with a simple but profound explanation of a worker’s equality. “But I worked so much harder,” says the early guy who receives the same pay as the late-afternoon-guy who worked only one hour. That’s Jesus. Surprisingly unpredictable but fully embracing of us all. The worldly business investment may have shifted but God’s investment in you – in your value and worth – has never and will never change. God is not a “CEO,” God is “GOD.” The Church knows this to be true and we need to believe it as well.

Can we do any less? Can we do any less when judging or evaluating anyone who crosses our paths? Our lives are the same and the pay is exactly the same for the guy with a private jet and the gal raising two children alone. That’s called “Church.”

The gospel today also includes priests.

The gospel today also includes priests. There’s a deference or a humble submission that I’ve witnessed and felt in my thirty-seven years of doing this. When I was a deacon there were three housekeepers in the rectory as though I couldn’t toilet myself. (Please realize that “toilet” is not a verb.) Shaking your hand after Mass and telling me “Good sermon, Father” doesn’t help me unless you really mean it.

I will preach what you want to hear and what you may not want to hear, only what I feel you need to hear. And, sometimes I’ll be wrong in my assessment.

If my sermons offend you in some way then realize that it was intended because that’s part of my responsibility as well. Treating me special like a porcelain doll or the “man with all the answers” doesn’t advance the Church’s mission, it only perpetuates the silly notion that I’m different or more special than you. And, I’m not any different or special. I’m not on a “bar or step” that’s higher than yours.

Talking to a senior citizens, you naturally congratulate them on their 35-40 years with one company they loved and served well. Those days are way over folks. Jesus Christ was wrong. The Son of God didn’t know about economics and wavering markets. The Savior of the World didn’t know about poor projections, downturns and recessions…and most importantly profits, executive compensations and the demands of stock holders. No, the man we call Jesus only knew about you and me – as equal travelers on this journey of life.

Because it’s the way it is doesn’t meant it’s the way it should be.

Because it’s the way it is doesn’t mean it’s the way it should be. The definition at the beginning is of a stupid ladder solely meant for fixing things that you cannot reach. That ladder is not for separating people – people like you and me. We, in the Church, can reach higher because working all day or for only one hour is worth of God’s praise along with generous pay.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

With her children tugged safely in bed, mom now has some quiet time to recollect and reflect on the day ending and plan for what tomorrow brings. Fr. Richard’s day ends, and he thinks about the troubling dad he met after morning Mass, the afternoon visit to the hospital and in the evening the young couple planning a spring wedding. Those are Fr. Richard’s recollections and reflection as his day ends.

But there’s one remembrance that he just can’t seem to shake off. It’s still milling around in his head. It bothers him, and he wonders what’s to do about it – it’s that compliment he was forced to hear about himself. Now what? He tries to dismiss it, but she was so sincere when she told him what he meant to her and her family. “Damn that compliment,” Father might (or might not) have said. Perhaps in similar words.

It’s the simplicity that I think we all quickly spotted about Father Richard. The Irish would say that he had, “No airs about him.” Here he was. And he was all over the place during his over forty years of Salvatorian priestly ministry.

Father was older than his novitiate classmates because he responded to what St. Paul calls a “groaning” in his life. We soften that word these days by calling it a “calling, ” but I prefer St. Paul’s more meaty description. Being older, Father was able to help the younger men in their discovery of solving “creation’s groans” in ministerial ways. How can we bring God’s mercy to those groaning for how many different reasons trying; those trying to make sense of a circumstance or life itself or how to make it through life?

“Simplicity” and “humility” are words often thrown around during occasions like this but I really believe that those two words found a home within Father Richard’s life.

I love the Isaiah reading because it is so true, “The rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful.” Nothing returns to God until it does what it needs to do. And folks, we’re that “it.”

Ministry is the water of hope to thirsty mouths who feel they’ve lost the meaning of that word. Ministry is a compassionate river offered to a mother to continue traveling down after burying her young son. Ministry is an ocean of silence between two people when words fall apart.

Over all those years, Father might have said to those folks, “If you have time, why don’t we get together,” or “Please, sit, I’d like to hear your whole story,” or “Why don’t we stop now and meet when you’re feeling stronger.”

A true Salvatorian, Father was open to wherever the need arouse. Born in Philadelphia in 1933, Father dreamed of learning Spanish. Hardly! Yet late in life, Father found a renewal of his ministry through the Hispanic community. Because you see, learning a new language is not just syllables and words, but it means recognizing the nuances and intonations that connects you to a different culture. He did it. He was proud of it – in spite of disliking those “darn” compliments. Is “darn” better than “damn?”

In a religious context, simple doesn’t mean simple. Father didn’t sleep on the floor with the heat turned off. Father didn’t have a b/w TV instead of a ’72 flatscreen. Simple for us religious people means sincerity, being as authentic as possible in any situation. Preparation for priesthood, sisterhood or brotherhood means learning as much about yourself as you can in order to put yourself out of the way and stand behind the person in front of you. That’s a lot of movements! Does that sound simple to you?

Let’s try that again. Preparation for religious life means learning as much about yourself as you can in order to put yourself out of the way and stand behind the person in front of you:

those hurting, those who are angry or confused those share their doubts with you after Mass those who have either a silly or serious question after Mass or how about that guy who sits all alone every Sunday in the back pew.

Who are those people? What do they want? What do they need? Can I stand behind them in their continuing faith journey?

That’s ministry. What ought to be the mantra for us all, religious and laity alike is “Get out of the way and let God do what God does,” but most importantly it’s doing God’s work through and with us.

“Simple and humble.” I think Father Richard and I had a lot in common!
There’s nothing simple about it. Emptying yourself in order to be filled with God’s grace and then sharing that grace with everyone you meet. That’s Salvatorian ministry and Father Richard lived it with us Salvatorians and brought that ministry to all those he touched.

A widow who’s lost a coin is the recovery of who she is in God’s eyes. It’s the connecting of the purpose of our lives with our Creator. The happy widow says, “Oh my gosh, all the time, the coin was under the cushion seat!” (There’s always money under the cushions. Try it the next time you’re at a friend’s house!)

She’s a widow because someone important is missing from her life and she now feels empty. The coin was never lost (faith can never be lost) – it was only misplaced, considered insignificant, or forgotten about. But she sweeps and dusts until she rescues what was never lost. “Misplaced, insignificant, forgotten?” None of those words apply in quenching our groaning for God.

The coin is the currency that beckons us to God every day. We keep coming to Mass and keep praying because we are always looking for that extra coin – the worth and wealth of our lives. Father Richard found the lost coin and was enriched during each decade of his life because of it.

Like any funeral, what can we take away and apply to our own faith journeys? Where is a good shower of rain needed in our faith life, what can we afford to let go of and let God fill our purses with lasting coins of fortitude, strength, and most importantly wisdom?

“Good and faithful servant” is often said at a priest’s funeral. I think Father and I would agree that it doesn’t apply only to this holy office but to all who continue to question and search for their “lost coins.”

(I’m telling you, the coin is under the cushion. If you invite me to supper, don’t leave me alone in your living room. “It’s gotta be here, somewhere!”)

Talk about simple. Father’s breakfast was the same thing every morning here at Alexian. The Cafe staff got to know him because of his repetitious order. Peanut butter on toast with a bowl of Cream of Wheat. I ate the same meal with him one morning, and I was hungry an hour later. But for Father, it was simply sufficient.

But simply simple? No way. Father was intelligent, quiet (and with a quick wit when necessary) and had very caring and attentive eyes.

A simple, small man with a tall stature.

Today we together thank you, Father Richard for your commitment, service, and dedication to the people of God in the name of the Salvatorians. We thank you for unraveling that “groaning” in your gut with the gift of your response to priestly life. We thank you for the“groanings” you were able to soften to all those in need.

Now there’s only remaining question for Father Richard to resolve while waiting at Heaven’s gate for entry, “What about those darn compliments?”

The Society of the Divine Savior (Salvatorians)

“Soulful Muse,” inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

Matthew 18:21-35

“Peter approached Jesus and asked him, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven time?” Jesus answered, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.”

During my six months of unemployment before beginning here, I did it only twice. I would look at it and say to myself, “It’s fine. Leave it.” I’d pass it in the afternoon and say to myself, “It’s okay the way it is. Just leave it alone. The night would come, and I’d lie in it again and think to myself, “It’s just the way I left it this morning.” Was I satisfied, content or just bewildered while moving from what I knew to what I didn’t know.

You know, I’ve learned over my years that life is not as rough as we make it out to be. I think people-who-think-rough impose it upon themselves and others for whatever reasons – blame your parents, overtly religious, blame your boss, just being anal, or they just don’t like themselves. Life is not that rough and tumble. (And if you’re over thirty and still blaming your parents, you may wish to find a drug. It’s not their fault!)

At St. Bernard’s last week, I used a sentence that I admired when I wrote it: “If your life is authentic and genuine, then whatever good or bad occurs, you will see it through.” (It even rhymes.)

And it all begins with a simple morning task either before coffee or leaving for work that I failed to do for six months.

These are words from a Navy SEAL Admiral given a commencement speech.
“If you make your bed every morning you will have accomplished the first task of the day. It will give you a small sense of pride, and it will encourage you to do another task and another and another. By the end of the day, that one task completed will have turned into many tasks completed. Making your bed will also reinforce the fact that little things in life matter. If you can’t do the little things right, you will never do the big things right.
Every morning in basic SEAL training, my instructors, who at the time were all Vietnam veterans, would show up in my barracks room and the first thing they would inspect was your bed. If you did it right, the corners would be square, the covers pulled tight, the pillow centered just under the headboard and the extra blanket folded neatly at the foot of the rack — that’s Navy talk for bed.

It was a simple task — mundane at best. But every morning we were required to make our bed to perfection. It seemed a little ridiculous at the time, particularly in light of the fact that were aspiring to be real warriors, tough battle-hardened SEALs, but the wisdom of this simple act has been proven to me many times over.”

Is life that simple or is life that complicated?

I’d say that it all begin as young boy and garbage. “Joe, take the garbage out.” I reply, “Do I have to?” It then moves to Sunday night grade school and the piercing question, “Is your homework done?” It quickly evolves to your first job and your supervisor says, “I have another project for you,” adding to your present incomplete two projects. It then advances into marriage and giving in to an argument with your wife – and again this time saying to yourself without saying it out loud, “Do I have to?”

The beauty of the “making your bed” metaphor is its mundane and ordinariness, allowing to either create or acknowledge that “extra” something living and breathing inside of you.

Jesus’ gospel is obvious when the obvious lies before us. (We wasted all that college money.) The guy simply lays it out there for us as easily as making our bed. The saying, “Make your bed and then lie in it” no longer means only accepting the consequences of your actions but it also means celebrating your successes. Is the gospel about forgiveness or hypocrisy? Forgiveness not given to someone from someone unable to forgive himself. Is it hypocrisy for setting a different standard for everyone else except herself. I bet the servant’s bed was a mess.

We need a Naval SEAL and we need the Son of God to tell us that it’s in the details; it’s in our inner selves, it’s not taught to us but witnessed to us by fellow bed-making fellows, it’s in the silence of our quiet moments when we’re able to confidently say to ourselves and to God, “that my life is authentic and real, I really can handle and deal with whatever life brings to me and to those I love.”

What possibly more could or would God expect of us? We already know the answer. And, the answer is totally no more nor less.

I almost forgot the best part of the Admiral’s commencement about the bed. He said, “And, if by chance you have a miserable day, you will come home to a bed that is made — that you made — and a made bed gives you encouragement that tomorrow will be better. If you want to change the world” (if you want to change your world then), “start off by making your bed.”

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

Jesus says, “…Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again, amen, I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything for which they are to pray, it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18: 15-20

To all of you under forty years of age, I apologize to you in advance but my little ditty today may bore you. Please read the parish bulletin or count the lights in the ceiling.

To the rest of us, Jesus clearly lays out for us what a follower of his looks like.
Since those over forty years are now the only ones listening to me, I have some good and bad news to report to you.

You’re pretty much who you are and will be for your remaining days. Because you see as you get even older – if you’re lucky enough to get there – you will be more of yourself than you are now.

If you’re cranky in the morning now, God bless the wife who has to listen to an intensified version of you in old age. If you hate your job now, steal that stapler today instead of waiting for your elimination or retirement day.

The old adage says, “You are in old age as you’ve always been, only, only…more so.” “More so?”

Whether it’s your humor, a type-A personality or a quiet demeanor – it only increases and expands as your years add up because that’s what we know.

All of the advice and admonitions from Jesus describes a faithful follower and believer in Him and His Father and then mingled with our life stories.

“Our own stories.” What a great phrase. We write our stories every day even if not for publication. Our happy stories are shared at family gatherings and cocktail parties, but there are other remembered stories which are full of the fullness of our lives. Those are safely kept in our minds and most importantly within our souls.

Those sinful parts of our lives are the easy parts to recall whether we confess them or not. Those unspoken parts of our lives that are seldom shared but are remembered… always alive within our souls.

How many times do we think or say to ourselves, “God forgives others but not me.” And, how many times are we proven wrong? Every, single time.

Well, I’ve given you the bad news, now how about the good news.

It’s the gift. A part of the gift is about God’s forgiveness. Another part of the gift is “hitting the mark” and doing the right thing. The greatest part of the gift is about the created you, the grace of God’s creation. Are we now what God created or have we become a creation of ourselves? Is there lots of God in your life or have you filled yourself with, well, too much of yourself?

If the gift of your life is authentic and real, then the all of life’s stuff, good or bad can be handled.

The most humbling part of being a priest? It’s confession. It’s two people connecting God’s mercy to our often broken world. It’s admitting doing the wrong thing while knowing the right.

I believe my job is to remind the penitent of something already known. If the penitent didn’t know the right way, then there’s no point to confession. The “box’ would remain empty. Confession is rediscovering what’s been lost, misplaced or forgotten. It’s both humbling to admit mistakes and humbling to hear them.

Us folks over forty don’t and will not change. (And do we really want to? “I like myself just that way I am!”) We’re pretty much who we’ll be for the rest of lives with perhaps a few modifications thrown in here and there.

But it’s those small things like misplaced frustration or anger, it’s a minor mishap when we believed we were so right or a mindless misstep (a statement we regret saying right after saying it), it’s the small parts of us that bother and causes us second thoughts or a restless sleep.

Those telling sparks are our souls talking to us, souls that contain and hold all of our lives, telling us where we’re goofing up the gift God gave us; as God’s creation.

There’s a new theological word for your religious prayers. “Goofing up.”

“I goofed up big time God, please forgive me.” “I goofed when I convinced myself of some goofy action or belief.” Please use “goofy” in a sentence today before you go to bed, and this new religious word will truly be yours.

The irony (that word is often misused but correctly used here), is that we know better – which is why it’s called “sin.” That’s what prompts and causes us to strive to be the grace-filled people Jesus calls us to be.

When age and time begin to meet, a theologian’s words may assist us in trying to define God’s great gift of grace:

“Sometimes a wave of light breaks into our darkness and it is as though a voice were saying: ‘You are accepted.’ You are accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted. If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance.” Paul Tillich

Okay, those of you under forty can rejoin us now. But just wait! Your time is coming.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

“Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly
from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him, ‘God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.’ He turned and said to Peter,’Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me.
You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.'” Matthew, 16

There’s a word that Americans have either forgotten about, ignored or just plain denied. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to say the word.

It’s SSSSSac…See, I can’t even say it. How about a game of Charades – it’s three syllables and starts with “S.” I can’t do the “ear thing,” sounds like” because it’s a word that stands on its own merit.

Guess it yet? It’s sacrifice. There, I got it out. Now it’s out there. Now it cannot be forgotten, ignored or denied. Jesus made sure of that.

And actually, other family and friends make us sure of that as well.

—“Can you help me out this Saturday, you’re the only guy I know with a truck?” Do you then give your Saturday Brewer game tickets to someone else? (Wouldn’t that make it two sacrifices?)

—You see your mom’s phone number on your cell phone and wonder if you’ll burn in hell for letting it ring out while you run out to your favorite restaurant, uninterrupted.

—Your boss says she needs you for another hour, but it’s already 6:00.

You can think of your own examples as quickly as I wrote those down. That’s why it’s such a dirty word in a country that values self-reliance, independence at all costs and “that special person” you think you are. I read several statements from Hurricane Harvey folks saying, “This is supposed to happen somewhere else, not here.” Where is that “someplace else?”

Sacrifice. Jesus showed us how it’s properly done and how many others witness for us sacrifice before and after Jesus.

“I don’t envy parents, I admire them. I have two cats and it’s a cinch at night.”

I don’t envy parents, I admire them. I have two cats, and it’s a cinch at night. Clean the poop and change the water. I’m done. Exhausted, I return to the movie I’m watching. Your daughter finally wants to learn how to tie her shoes, but it’s while the Packers are winning. Do you wait for halftime, a commercial? Or do you take the sucker’s way out and put it on pause?

Sacrifice for you means turning the TV off and your complete attention is focused on this youngster’s task – an achievement to be added to her lifetime of achievements.

The important words here are not only sacrifice but one of two words that follow it: “for” or “to.” Because you see if it’s a sacrifice “to” someone or something, then the attention remains on you. (Very American of you, by the way.) However, if the sacrifice is followed by “for” then you’ve place the attention where Jesus placed it – on the person begin helped, served or assisted.

“Get behind me Satan!”

I love the flight attendant’s announcement if there’s a lack of oxygen on the airplane. “Place the mask on yourself first, then assist the next person.” (“And, if you have two children, please choose the smart child first!”) A sacrifice “for” something or someone is a learned behavior, it is the gift of faith opened and served up for another. If the sacrifice is “to” then it has a hidden agenda; there’s something in it for you. That’s when Jesus tells us what he told to Peter, “Get behind me Satan!”

As a mother might quilt you after college by saying, “I’ve sacrificed a lot to get you to where you are.” Then you can smile back at her because she’s given you a “to” sacrifice. If nothing is ever said, but you both know what mom provided and what you’ve received then the word after sacrifice becomes “for,” because it was given out of love, duty and devotion. (Also good American words that we don’t hear enough of.)

The folks in Houston learned quickly the difference between “to” and “for” sacrifice in their terrible struggle (Hurrican Harvey) to stay living this past week. Our hearts and prayers go out to all of them. I’m confident that the “for” far outweighed the “to” in their heroic sacrifices.

Go ahead, take your mom’s phone call, it’s not the end of the world, and she may even have good news to tell you instead of the bad news you’re anticipating. Use your truck, it’s a gift to be shared with a friend who’s too cheap to call “Two Guys and a Truck.” Work that extra hour, it may both a “to” and a“for” sacrifice for your career.

Jesus could have done a “to” on us about sacrifice, but that would not have brought us here today for prayer. Jesus chose a “for” sacrifice to show us that it’s not about you and it’s not about me – it’s about us – traveling this journey of life together.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

“May the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ enlighten the eyes of our hearts, that we may know what is the hope that belongs to our call.” Letter to the Ephesians.

We know about the two of them separated by our nose. We also know they age along with our age. (I’m told I’ll need cataract surgery in 2020; the irony seemed to elude my eye doctor.) We put all kinds of things either inside or outside of those two organs to see either the traffic in front of us or the person to the side of us.

I write this now with glasses on the tip of my nose otherwise the words be a blur on my blurry porch along with my two cats. (At least I think my cats are out here now!)

Johnny Nash assured us of clear vision singing that “I can see all obstacles in my way, Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind…” Sounds like a faith statement to me. “I was blind but now I see,” says the slave-porter with a song that even an Alzheimer’s patient can sing.

But can those two – either gray, blue or green – ever truly see behind and beyond the daily news, that person’s convincing but wrong opinion, that car accident that almost makes us cause another. Good vision but poor insight? How often is that the case?

Enter the Biblical, Ephesians passage with a phrase that hit me, the “eye of our heart.” Now we have a third one? We possess a third eye that sees some things better and clearer than the two I scratch every morning?

Just take our “first impression” of someone, their shoes, and hair. The two of ours takes it in and quickly assesses. The third one of our heart may take awhile before a judgment is launched and cemented in our tiny brains. The timing of the heart’s eye is socketed in faith, in experience, in trust, and in patience. What was initially quick to admit or dismiss by our facial two is now cautiously weighed and measured, and always cushioned with a touch of hope and promise by the third.

Our poor hearts. First, they take a beating for beating every moment of every day but now the hearts bear the burden of a third way of viewing and evaluating people and things around us.

I like my two visible green ones although everyone says they’re blue. Perhaps if they looked at me with their “third eye,” they made finally see that mine are green.

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

The growing top is only as good as a sturdy bottom. So goes the tree analogy and our evolving lives.

Invisible roots that hold the tree firmly is a family’s ancestors stories told again and again to young minds about folks they will never meet except through a worn black and white photograph.

It’s also the conversations secretly heard by junior ears wearing their “pj’s” in the living room corner as the “adults” converse and laugh. These green-leafed toddlers watch and absorb the tiniest of gestures; that quick wink from grandfather, mom’s tapping foot, the uncle who can’t seem to smoke enough and his wife who can’t seem to drink enough, the silent brother-in-law who married into this tree along with his wife who’s adding up the babysitting tally, the older brother who thinks he’s an adult but only seven years ahead of you, and your baby sister who either dances a few short steps or plays a simple piano ditty.

For better or worse, (aren’t those marriage vows who choose each other?!) they are the roots of your life as your small leaf increases in size and in color.

As a mother cannot leave her child, a tree cannot leave a leaf. The child must learn to leave mother as a leaf must fall from its tree. There is no other way nature meant it. The fallen leaf is adulthood and the mother waits for a telephone call from time to time. And, so it goes.

The super green leaf has adventure after adventure as its color slowly turns amber or brown or gray. This youthful leaf will soon become the ancestor talked about in the past tense.

Winds come from many directions and the discoloring leafs slowly form a circle around themselves. And there they stay, probably sharing stories of their adventures and how they earned the colors they now possess.

Is the circle a retirement home? Is the circle the Monday morning breakfast with like-minded retirees? Or is the circle of aging leafs just the natural rhythm of life. Some aging leafs are at one corner of my porch as I write this but in front of me is a large grouping of leafs that have been blown together.

I don’t know what to make of it but I love the image of tree, leaf and us.

And, so it goes?

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up