Advent Theme: “Do Your Homework”

Posted on November 27, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Jesus says, “Be prepared and stay awake because we know neither the day nor the hour.”

Walking home from grade school there was no backpack for me. It wasn’t invented yet for children, just for military soldiers. For me it was carrying a couple of folders containing unfinished information that only the eye of my nun-teacher would weigh and evaluate when it became due.

Because you see, it was called my homework. Break the word a part and it becomes work that you do at home. This work that you do at home is totally responsible for leading you to the next stage of life – whether it’s to the next grade or life’s next maturity.
backpack_png6310
Several incomplete pieces of paper were placed in my folders for my walk home and I was obliged to complete those pieces of papers’ empty blanks or parts requiring short sentences from a grade-school-mind. Why? It’s because my homework is due the next morning or the day after that. Science projects? A week or two was allowed for those constructions. (But how many of us built them the night before?) “Oh, I have two weeks,” says a 10-year old mind because two weeks means two years.

Ummm. Let’s see what we have here for us oldsters or soon to be oldsters. An assignment is given to us all to complete – first privately at home and then to proudly share our privately, completed homework publicly for either (as children) the nun-teacher or (as adults) with a good friend or with a spouse or in your job.

“Stand up, Joseph and show us what you did?” says my defiant, unpaid third grade Sister (as a child) or (as an adult)  “Show us what you’ve got?” from a good friend, or from a spouse or from an employer or from the world.

I stutteringly tell the class my answers and hope they’ll not laugh or just stare at me. I did my homework last night – and without TV privileges. No TV on “school nights” and Sunday was considered a school night.

“Stay awake” and “Be prepared” says the Gospel today but I say to you, “Do your homework.”

If you missed assignments in your education or in your life then how cleverly stupid of you. You’ve become the “Eddie Haskell” of your grade school class or the “Eddie Haskell” of society. Snip a little here (“No one’ll notice”) and slide a little there (“Nobody cares” or “Everybody’s doing it”). The easy way is always the best way, especially when our personal interests are the only personal issues of our personal hearts and minds. (Ummmm, I used “personal” three times in one sentence. I wonder what that means?)

In Church words, Advent means “preparation” but in my words it means, “Do your homework.”

That personal homework that we all so confidently completed at home needs to be shared and publicly proclaimed tomorrow to everyone around you. Otherwise, what’s the point of an education? What’s the point of an enlightening experience? What’s the point of having a new insight?

“Stay awake,” the Gospel tells us.  What I say to you is, “Share your views about culture and religion with me.”

If you’re a fundamentalist then you’d love today’s Gospel as you smile to yourself and wave “goodbye” as you’re lifted heaven-ward while the rest of us are down here gnashing our teeth. (That’s code, by the way, for “hell.”) The rest of us are just hoping for the glory and majesty that awaits us. (And we also hope that our heavenly neighbors are not the same as the ones down here.)

But what if we make today’s Gospel not about surprising deaths but about surprising insights, a new take on an old issue, a twist to a thought we always thought was straight? That’s called “doing our homework,” in this time and in this place.

—We loved slavery (they were always employed!)
—we hated gays but now attend their weddings
—our work week was cut from 80 hours down to a comfortable 40
—women can vote now (and go figure why men didn’t like
it…women vote more religiously than men)
—we thought Lutherans were all going to hell
(those poor folks across the street from us)
—we thought priests were invincible heroes
—we thought the Latin Mass would last forever
but staring at my butt wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen

The homework of life is not limited only to our personal lives but our homework includes the concerns and worries of those around us.

“Homework.”  What a great word. Private work that’s then publicly shared.

The “Eddie Haskell” of our lives is when we do not do our own personal homework. It’s when we let others do our homework for us and soon Eddie reappears. (That’s a shortcut.) Absorbing radio and TV babble and then making it your own is not doing your homework. In grade school that’s called “copying.” “Sister, sister, Joe’s copying my work!” says the smartest girl seated in the class.

That undone personal homework is meant only for us and to be completed by only you and then publicly pronounced again and again and then repeated again and again to persuade and to prove that our homework, has indeed, been completed.

In our country today, we find ourselves in a “drowning swimming pool” of murky and wild ideas. Think of the last election for the past year and a half, on both and every side. Politics reflects and shapes our culture.  Our culture reflects and shapes our minds and our lives.

A year ago on this First Sunday of Advent, I promised to do something that a year later is still left undone. I didn’t do my homework that I promised myself (and God) a year ago.

Jesus says to us today and everyday, “Stay awake, the hour is at hand!” I say to you and to me today and everyday, walk home from school with your incomplete folders and please, “Do your homework, your assignment is publicly due tomorrow…and no TV!”

books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS, available in paperback or Kindle at Amazon:
“Soulful Musings”
“Living Life’s Mysteries”
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings”
Posted in Advent, Spirituality | Leave a comment

Baptisms: Three of ‘Em

Posted on November 14, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

thAugustus, Sofia and Callie (ASC) were baptized by me. Actually, I mean these three were baptized by the gathered Catholic community at an early 8:00 a.m. Mass at St. Sebastian Church in Milwaukee.

Young with attentive eyes staring up at me while I pour water on their growing hairs, three times; one for each person of the Trinity. Parents and Godparents beam with joy as I place the oil on the crown of their heads proclaiming them to be “priests, prophets and kings.” Their beautiful white garments are then acknowledged with the word, “dignity” brought at a far off date unstained into the eternal Kingdom.

We all offer a welcoming clap and then we are re-sprinkled to remind ourselves of what we may have forgotten after thirty, forty or eighty years.

Baptized. These three are now free from that leafy-clothed couple that haunts and under-scores our whole religious lives.  (I thought an “apple a day keeps the doctor away!”) Baptized now and soon to be living in a world that few of us will witness.

President Trump (first time I put those two words together) will become a historical footnote, a fluke, unless he messes up which I will be around to witness. Will ASC ever hear a revolving record skip or having to switch car gears from one to two and then three and then to four for a smoother ride? Will they even have self-driven cars when they reach twenty years old?

ASC will never wait for a neighbor to finish a telephone call before making their own. They perhaps will only touch their chests to activate the implant to receive an incoming telephone call (and see the person their talking to in their glasses.) ASC will probably never wait for a bus, replaced with some super-studded transport system. ASC will not need to take their shoes off at the airport because newer disasters will lead to newer measures.

The “first Black president and “first woman president” will be incidentals to them because so many have come and gone since our time. How many churches will remain for them to choose from is a question that only time will solve but I suspect that the Roman one will remain in some shape or form.

ASC will need to care for their parents as their parents cared for them. Nursing homes during their time will look much more like a golf resort. Or worse still, collective housing in a far off corner of your hometown or worse still medical methods will be common place to ease suffering and of course rid ourselves of those aged appendages.

Will there still be “Third World” countries, named by us who live in the First? Will “food for the world” finally become a reality for them since we don’t do it now when we can? Will “I Love Lucy” still be playing every minute of every day somewhere in the world?

ASC will not remember this day at all, only what their parents will tell them at this anniversary. “You were so cute and you didn’t cry,” will be repeated until ASC thinks they actually remember it. But baptism did happen for three unsuspecting children on a sunny but cool November day in a Milwaukee Catholic Church. The baptism was performed by a priest whose name will escape the parents which I don’t mind. “Who was that masked man?” has always been my priestly mantra.

Mothers bore them and the Church blesses them as only both of the “she’s” can. The mothers will nourish and the Church will teach or is that the Church will nourish and the moms will teach or is it a bit of both, combined?

In 1930, 40 or 50 how many of us were commissioned to be a “priest, prophet, king,” each in our own way, for the way of our times. Priest: honoring the “now” of any time as sacred; Prophet: an open eye and ear to what the future may be because of what happens in this “now;” King: to serve the least among us and be conscious always about the common good of all.

Tall orders for three infants wondering why there’s water sprinkled on their heads in the early morning and a tall order for us tall people who felt the same sprinkling and assumed the same responsibilities.

(Being good Catholics when time is more important than prayer, three baptisms, great sermon and the 8:00 a.m. Mass ended at 9:02.)

books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS, available in paperback or Kindle at Amazon:
“Soulful Musings”
“Living Life’s Mysteries”
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings”

book_coverA Great Gift Idea

A new book by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
Available at Amazon.com
Paperback or Kindle is $14.95.  Enjoyable reading.

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God’s Wisdom or Our Perseverance?

Posted on November 13, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Jesus said, “All that you see here–the days will come when there will not be left
a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” Then they asked him, “Teacher, when will this happen? And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?” He answered,“See that you not be deceived,for many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ Do not follow them!  When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first,but it will not immediately be the end.” Then he said to them,“Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky. Before all this happens, however, they will seize and persecute you,they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons,and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name. It will lead to your giving testimony. Remember, you are not to prepare your defense beforehand, for I myself shall give you a wisdom in speaking that all your adversaries will be powerless to resist or refute. You will even be handed over by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends,and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” (Luke 21)

gods-wisdom_t_nvThe most powerful statement in today’s gospel is Jesus telling us to just keep our mouths shut. Wisdom comes from above. Jesus himself will give us the wisdom we need to see us through through the next day…and especially the next four years.

This divisive election cycle has finally ended with its surprise ending. “Make America Great Again” wins out over the supposed status quo. I was talking to a young Black employee at work and said, “Slavery wasn’t so bad, you were always employed!” (Is that what “Again” means?) He laughed back at me and told me that he wasn’t going to vote. A young Black man wasn’t going to vote when he only received that privilege during my lifetime.

Wisdom from me? Keep my mouth shut. Jesus ends this happy Gospel with the word, “perseverance.” In other words, hang in there for the long haul. It’s only four years.

But the Gospel today dates itself in its punishments. None of us are likely to appear before a king or governor and imprisoned for our beliefs – my family may try to hand me over but that of works both ways.

The punishment for today’s views is simply between us, “you and me.” You tell me something I don’t agree with and we both react without either of us digesting what the other is saying. (Sounds like “talk radio” or “cable news?”) Many sentences from both of us are wasted on both of us and what remains is a growing tightening in our stomachs, a troubling unrest registered first in our minds and then responded to by our bodies.

That “tightening” feeling is God’s wisdom trying to get tucked into in our stupidly-stubborn-hard-held beliefs. During conversations like that, if there is no tightening in your stomach then I’d be very concerned for your health. Then there’s a problem. The solution you offer me to any of society’s problem is as good as any of my solutions. Combine them together and I truly believe we may have God’s wisdom living and breathing in our divided world.

We are all so “right” in our certitude that we don’t need a king or governor. Our “right” words only shows our continuing lack of God’s wisdom – It’s a wisdom that I truly believe lies in a word we don’t hear much these days. I don’t mean to upset you but the word is “compromise.”

My nephew in Washington State and I were emailing back and forth for quite a period of time on religious and social issues and agreeing on nothing except our email addresses. So what he did was, he created a table in an email with my comments in one column and refuting Biblical references in the next column.  And those two columns did not match!

My sister, formerly a Catholic nun, now recently retired as a Unitarian ordained minister rejects the Catholic Church teachings of her upbringing but never fails to include them in her sermons.

My other sister has a 20-year-old son who’s never been baptized waiting for him to choose a religion for himself. (I said to her, “Why not at least baptize the kid in the Catholic Church so he can grow up and reject it!”)

My brother, a former Christian Brother, quit and joined a church where you can believe whatever you wish. Good for him. He’s just created his own, personal god.

Perseverance and wisdom. Are they two conflicting words or are they two powerful words that bring us closer to something dynamic and inspiring…what’s another word, how about divine? Combine those two words and watch us bond as a nation and watch us bond us as Church.

This is not a new dilemma for me.  Rewind over thirty years ago and I’m in a restaurant, 10:00 at night with parish council members after our meeting.  I’m wearing a Roman collar (I did that in those days) and having a Manhattan and smoking (you could do that in those days.)  We’re nearing eating our meal and a woman passes me by and drops a piece of paper in front of me and walks out the restaurant.  I pick it up and it’s a bank deposit slip. She wrote on it “St Paul said that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit and look what you’re doing to yourself.” Stupidly, of course, her address is on the bank deposit slip. The next day I write to her (we actually mailed letters in those days) and wrote that Scripture also says, “‘What comes out of your body is more important than what goes in it.’ Why don’t we meet and talk about this.” She never replied because she was so right in her perseverance but not in her wisdom.

Perseverance is never about “I’m right and you’re wrong,” in Church matters of any matter.  Perseverance can only be married to wisdom and wisdom only comes from God.

books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS, available in paperback or Kindle at Amazon:
“Soulful Musings”
“Living Faith’s Mysteries”
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings”
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August 9, AB

Posted on September 19, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

barbara-streisandAfter the lights dim in Chicago’s United Center, she quietly walks out on stage and begins to hum softly.  The almost-full audience rises in wild applause as though everyone felt as I did, “she’s a famous singer I’d love to see but it’ll never happen.”

For over sixty years her mezzo soprano (and three octaves) voice has been the center of her music and political/social views.  Hot/cold feelings about her are quickly drawn.  (Rarely would you hear a “cool” comment about her.)  At work I said I was about to see her to a group of young Black employees and one said to me, “She a Jewish singer.”  I replied, “Close enough.”

Anticipating August 9 is as much fun and energy-expanding as the event.  An experience doesn’t need to occur because of its growing anticipation.  (And, can’t our mind’s anticipation be more exciting and real than the event?)  However, it was that Tuesday night in 2016 that fueled those slower than normal days and weeks during July.

It’s early July and a friend passingly says to me that she’ll be in Chicago in August.  I say, “Oh, wow, I didn’t hear that.”  Ten seconds later in my reflective mind I’ve already ordered the tickets, saw her perform and returned home smiling.  Her concerts are rare.  There was even a twenty year gap.  That night, I reserved two seats for my sister and me.  I called my sister moments later and told her that she owed me a lot of money.  “Oh, how come?”  I said because we’re going to see her perform in Chicago. “Great,” she said.

I hang up the phone (that’s a lie, it’s an cell phone and you just click the red button) and I thought had that person not make that comment to me, I would not have seen her. I’d feel regret because Chicago is only ninety minutes away.  I have her CD’s but now I will soon see her live barring a loose limb or death.

In the weeks that follow my every other thought wanders to 8/9.  My sister has a party and her neighbor-friend and 17-year-old daughter hear about my “8/9 wish come true” and wish to come with us.  I say, “Cool,” as I order two more tickets in front of them with my phone.

Traveling from Milwaukee to Chicago for an 8:00 p.m. concert is tricky so my sister books a SUV and driver which takes away our travel troubles.  8/9.  It’s now the four of us who enter the SUV at 3:50 p.m. with my anticipation running slightly higher than my heart beats.  Neighbor-friend brings a picnic basket full of munchies (and alcohol) for our carefree trip and we talk and laugh our way through Chicago’s thick afternoon traffic.  I tell the 17-year-old that in thirty years, she’ll be talking with friends about famous singers (divas) and they’ll all laugh at those by-gone starlets.  I told her that she’ll be able to say, “I saw one of the best.”  Her friends will laugh and say, “No, way.”  I told her to just smile back at them and hum a few bars of “Happy Days Are Here Again.”

Chauffeur-guy wishes us well as he waits 2 1/2 hours for us soon to be “song-filled” people to return.  Walking through the metal detectors, I asked the guard if he expected any trouble tonight.  He replied, “Are you kidding!”  Pretty much White and well over 50 was our assembling crowd.

She hums the beginning of “The Way We Were” as the orchestra behind her gradually chimes in.  We all jump up and applaud with the same acclaim as a Chicago Bulls victory.  She performs for us standing stationery with a solitary confidence and a voice as strong, if not fuller for her 74 years.  Two hours.  Three encores.  New songs, old songs and her standards.  The next day at work, employees asked me who her warm-up act was.  I said, “Are you kidding!  None of us needed warming-up!”

With due respect to the Christian’s “BC” and “AD” measurement of time, I now mark 8/10 as AB and 8/7 was BB.

She dropped one of the three “a’s” in her first name in to stand out.  She didn’t need to do that.  She’s been belting and mellowing her “melting butter” voice into our hearts for generations and, well, I get to tell everyone that I got to see her.

books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS, available in paperback or Kindle at Amazon:
“Soulful Musings”
“Living Faith’s Mysteries”
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings”
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“The Prodigal Son,” Milwaukee Style

Posted on September 11, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
the-prodigal-son

Everlasting Forgiveness & Love

A rich man lived in the Washington Highlands.  (Boy, is that redundant.)

All right, so he lived at 65th and Lloyd but the point is he was wealthy and had two sons, no wife…at least not in this story.

The younger son, a recent graduate of Pius XI High School and costing the dad over $36,000.00 Catholic dollars approaches his now less wealthy father and proudly announces that he’d like “his share” of what’s left of the dad’s property and businesses.  Because you see the son’s been gazing at the Highlands glorious entrance for years and wonders why he doesn’t live there. The father, meanwhile, smiles to himself because he hates his property taxes and now the kid will have to kick in his share.

So the foolhardy father freely gives him half of his assets.  (Had the dad been truly Jewish, he would have known that there is no “share” for the youngest; the 65th and Lloyd property belongs to the oldest when the now-less-wealthy-father permanently visits Holy Cross cemetery, with an exception for Jewish people.

After a few days, the Pius graduate youngest son collected all of his belongings – backpack, Apple iPhone, Apple Watch and Apple MacBook Air (because you know, growing up his father always called him “the apple of his eye,”), 9 pairs of overpriced sneakers and a baseball cap that no white person should ever wear backwards – but he saw a Black person do it once so he now wears it that way.

Its been said that after gaining his gain that he “set off to a distant country,” (he went downtown) and in no time flat, youngster squandered his ill-gotten inheritance by investing in paper while the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel goes digital with subscriptions falling daily.  His life is now described as “dissipation,” meaning little by little what was once a large wad has dwindled down to a few bills.  How he accomplished this complete “dissipation” we shall never know.

Hard times hit him and his pending college scholarships have expired so he finds himself in what is called in polite conversation, “dire need.”  St. Ben’s anyone?  Rescue mission?  Standing on 76th and Capitol with a sign asking for money?  (Thank goodness for green lights.)

So, it’s been said that “he hired himself out” which means he has now sold himself twice – sold himself out to his dad and now sold out himself leaving him with little meaning and no purpose.  He gets a part time job at “Get It Now” which is ironic since he cannot get it now himself but he now sells to people who cannot get it now so they now shop at “Get It Now.”  Get the picture?

And how many of us here still think that this story is about the Pius graduate.  He longed to eat the bratwurst with sauerkraut that his father is known for along with sleeping in his own room along with a 42-inch flat screen complete with Netflix, HBO, Showtime and Amazon Prime.

So what does poor, youngest boy/son do?  He prepares and prepares again a speech to deliver to his dad who now lives in only half of the 65th and Lloyd house with taxes now due on the whole house.

“Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you,” the son begins his apology written on a napkin at Victor’s on Van Buren Street.  (Is that even still open?)  “I no longer deserve to be called a graduate of Pius X High School or your son.  Treat me as you would treat one of your employees with no hope of a union or decent vacation time.”  This good pious Pius kid practices his pretend speech again and again while walking from 60th and North to 65th and Lloyd.

He rings the dead door bell which cannot be fixed because half the inheritance is gone so he knocks loudly until his dad answers the door.  He opens his mouth ready to spew his semi-contrite, rehearsed statement when his father quickly and silently embraces and hugs him and doesn’t let go.

Before the son can try again with his fake contrition, the father yells to the older son, “Get the grill going, get some brats and don’t hold back on the sauerkraut this time. Invite his old Pius friends over and, if you have any, invite some of your friends.”

The older son (this is the second best part of the story) fires up the grill and starts playing Sirius XM on their one-Bose speaker.  (Get it? Half?)

The older son becomes angry and daddy runs out to plead with him.  (This dad just doesn’t know when to quit.)  “Look,” the older son begins, “all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders.  I even went to Wauwatosa East to save you money and you never once made brats for me.  And if I had any friends, I would have invited them over.  But when this kid returns, who swallowed up your property with prostitutes…”

Wait a minute.  Where in this parable is there anything said about prostitutes?  Are we now talking about the older son’s thoughts or the pious Pius graduate’s actions?  “Prostitutes?”

The older son continues, “but for him you make me slaughter a pig to give us brats.  And the smell will truly spill over into the Highlands where we one day hope to live!” (In half a house.)

And the whole story is now concluded and contained in one small paragraph.  Our little 65th and Lloyd parable is all about children and their father – about God and us.  Here’s the final paragraph about the dad’s unqualified, unlimited, entire, absolute, crazy, irrational…but loving mercy and forgiveness.

To the older son the dad says, “My son you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.” (Minus half, of course.)  “But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead (because of downtown Milwaukee) and has come to life again (at least we can see the entrance to the Washington Highlands); he was lost and has been found.”

Nothing can be lost in God’s eyes but only God’s love rediscovered and discovered again – renewed through a new day and starting all over again, and again, and again, and again.

“Now how ‘bout those brats?”

books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS, available in paperback or Kindle at Amazon:
“Soulful Musings”
“Living Life’s Mysteries”
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings”

book_cover

A Great Gift Idea

A new book by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
Available at Amazon.com
Paperback or Kindle is $14.95.  Enjoyable reading.

Posted in Spirituality | Leave a comment

9/8, Happy Birthday Blessed Mary

Posted on September 8, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Happy Birthday once again, Blessed Mary.

Another year of your intercession into our often broken yet holy world.  You don’t talk to us much but your influence continues through your simple life.  Thank you for that simple life and please excuse that we don’t have enough candles to honor your birthday this holy day.

Blessed Mary, you lived the dual life that each of us live: shame and joy, joy and shame.  We go back and forth wondering if we’ll ever reach the one but are sure of the other.

You first felt joy, in your pregnancy, with your cousin’s fetus kicking for joy for his new cousin.  Imagine two un-borns showing us all what joy feels like.

You were shamed in your pregnancy and then found joy in the little guy that you and Joseph held together.

You again felt shame when you lost your little guy in the temple.  You returned and found that frisky six year old talking brilliantly among sixty year olds.  The joy returned to your face that day.

You felt shame yet once again when the little guy, now a big guy tells you at a wedding feast that “his time has not yet gone” when you made a simple request to him.  You walked away from him wondering what kind of son you raised.  Then he brought you joy when the first wine was served last and continued to be served.

Shame/Joy…Joy/Shame.  What a life for you and what a life for us.

We don’t hear about you in the Bible for quite awhile until you’re greatest shame/joy are again intermingled.  Your little boy is walking and carrying that awful stick on his shoulder and you had to walk behind him.  He walked and walked until he fell, three times (it’s been said) until he reached his shame and shamed you once again.

Poached on that big stick your little guy, now a big guy, gives you away (as in a marriage) to the one person he trusted the most.  The one he trusted most says, “yes” to him and when he asks you the same question, you say “yes” to him.  Is it now shame or hope?

Is it what we so often dismissily say these days, “it is the way that it is” and throw in our hats recused from further responsibility or is it what could and can be?  Your little guy knew it was hope all along and not despair but I suspect that you felt it also.

Blessed Mary, your little guy died that day and you walked away wondering what to hold on to.  Shame at your son’s behavior?  Despair for what we did to him?  Or is it hope for what can be when the best of us shines forth?

Another Mary finds the empty place where your son was laid but you heard about it quickly.  Blessed Mary, your living between shame, despair and hope suddenly turned to joy.

It’s called the resurrection.  It’s called “joy.”  It means “joy.”

Blessed Mary, we turn to you each moment of each day because you witness for us that shame only holds us down and that joy only lifts us up.  Joy prevails when shame only slowly eats away the goodness within us.

Happy birthday Mary.  And may you have many more.  We all suspected that you “represent”…no…you “show”…no…you are “joy”, you are “hope.”  You are our Mother as much as the little boy on that stick who destroyed shame and restored a joy-filled life.

We believe that you are the joy we want and need in times of doubt, sorrow or lose.  So “Happy Birthday” to you Blessed Mary and “Happy Birthday” to all of us who adopt and make you our joy.

And, all thanks to your little boy.

Posted in Blessed Virgin Mary, Spirituality | Leave a comment

It Keeps Thundering but No Rain

Posted on August 19, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Today was sunny and beautiful but a bit humid.  I could smell the growing moisture and then the emerging clouds confirmed my scent.  It grew darker and the rain began and it was wonderful.

Moments before a couple from across the street decided to take an afternoon stroll and I’m sure that they hurriedly ran back home.  The rain slowly began, then grew to full throttle for about ten minutes until it silently subsided leaving the clouds behind as a reminder of what just happened.

Rain makes the grey and yellow colors, green once more.  Rain nourishes our plants and shrubs.  Rain makes our food.  How else would we be able to eat watermelon year ’round without that wet stuff falling from the sky.

If the movie you’re watching is getting boring then just wait for the rain to fall.  That’s the cue that a change or transformation in the hero is about to occur.  The film’s hero will discover how stupid he was and repent at her front door while the rain falls.  The whole tempo of any film changes once the water hits the pavement.  “Cue the rain,” says the director when he knows it’s time.  The streets in film are already wet to enhance the car sequences, don’t ask me why because I don’t know but just look at all the wet streets on a dry, pleasant evening.

In the business world it can thunder when you least expect it.  No warning clouds, just those ominous sounds in your heard knowing it’s about to rain.  It’s called “reapplying” for a job you presently love and hold.  It’s even scarier when it happens in a religious-based business.  You hear only the thunder but no rain nor the new green colored grass.

If you choose not to “reapply” for a position you’ve presently held for two or eighteen years then you’ve chosen not to apply for that position.  You’re not fired, you’re not warned three times or are you disciplined.  You’ve chosen not to reapply.  Unemployment compensation?  I think not.  You’ve chose not to apply.

So the job that you presently occupy is now open-listed and you need to “re” apply for it while continuing to work in the position that is no longer yours.  How about six weeks of working and waiting amid thunderous sounds in your head but still no rain.  No green coloring of new life.  It’s not raining.

My unfunny joke is that even Karl Rove could not have come up with a more deviously delicious way of treating employees.  I always associate him with the “Support Our Troops” slogan during the Iraq invasion by switching attention from that stupid war and focusing on the soldiers.  Why didn’t Robert McNamara think of that during Vietnam?  Those lost lives would have been the same but all of us would have been happily smiling while the heavy, brutal rains fell.

Six weeks of smiling faces while their reapplications are reviewed.  Six weeks of continuing in a job that is no longer theirs but still expected to be theirs.  Let the rains fall?  Where’s Judy Garland and her song?

Rainfalls are natural and we love them, especially when a rainbow appears and Judy breaks into her song.  A deluge of rain is something else.

I call those employees the “walking dead;” don’t just shoot them in the leg but shoot them in the head.  What happened to the olden days when it was said to you, “you’re fired” and you moved on.

The rains will come and the rains will end.  But to hear thunder for six weeks without the rain is pretty petty, undignified and humiliating; especially for a religious based business.

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Receive “The Body of Christ”

Posted on August 14, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

These days are called “grave times” in the Catholic Church.  (What days aren’t called “grave times!?”)
So now it’s time for “grave measures.”  So from now on…

–If you’re in the state of sin….”no host”
–If you’ve told a lie and apologized but without confession…”no host”
–If you remarry without an annulment and have your reception at Alioto’s…”no host”  (Alioto’s is strictly for funerals, never weddings,) so I say again to you…”no host.”

Like the political conventions with their repeating refrain, your response to my litany needs to be, “no host.”  Ready?

  • If you enter Mass after Michael’s Opening Song…
  • If you co-habitate and co-pay the utility bills…
  • If you don’t tip the usher during the Offertory collection…
  • If you don’t shake hands with person behind you…
  • If you don’t Purell yourself after shaking anyone’s hand…
  • (sigh) If you leave before the final blessing…
  • If you roll your eyes during any of my sermons…
  • If you are any part of LGBT (and I don’t even know what those letters mean but it just sounds wrong)…

We’ve done it.  We actually have done it.  We’ve done it before so we’ll try it again.  What’s the “it?”  We’ve made the “it” out of the Body of Christ.  We’ve made the “Body of Christ” a commodity.  The Body of Christ is for sale and it has a price tag attached to it…as in your life and behavior.

What was intended to be “enriching and grace-giving” for us has retarded down to be a “treat,” a “reward” for good behavior.  Much like you treat your dog with its waging tale and eagerly open mouth.

Past tense: a reward is, for something you’ve done that has earned you something, like the Body of Christ.  Using the Body of Christ as “bait” is another tool to get the desired prey, you being the prey.
Future tense is the “enriching and grace-giving” Body of Christ providing you with the daily or often received food you need to be the somebody that God created you to be; in other words, to become what you’ve received, the Body of Christ.

The Church seems to prefer the “past tense” version based on a “treat” mentality.  I prefer the “future tense” of what this powerful sacrament initiates and ignites in our lives.

(I delivered a similar message about this 6 years ago on Corpus Christi Sunday, it’s on my old blog but the timing appears timeless.)

“Reward or grace?  Is communion intended to be a type of dog treat for those who are doing a good job or is it intended to be a source of efficacious grace.  (I love the word efficacious although there are not many opportunities to use in a typical day.)  Actually, “efficacious grace” is redundant.  Grace can only influence a desired result as defined by efficacious.  Sinners and those slightly off the path need the Eucharist more than ever.  Instead of denying politicians communion, the bishops should be saying “You need to receive communion much more frequently than you presently are.  You need the grace of the sacrament to help you in your discernment and judgments.”

Is it our preparation toward the Eucharist that makes it a “reward” or is it the reception that prompts better behavior and links us closer to Jesus that makes it “grace-filled”?  It may sound like the “chicken or the egg” argument but I think it makes a world of difference when it comes to religion.  Did Jesus care about the 99 or was his primary just that one person, one person?

People still ask me that immortal question, “Father I received communion this morning, can I go again this afternoon at the wedding?”  “Absolutely not,” I say, “you’ve already had your treat.”  (Can you hear my tongue stuck in my cheek?…)  I’ve never said but many times tempted.

I know I’m only a situational priest here.  I know many of your faces but so very few of your names.  If you asked me to tell you your name, you’d be sorely disappointed.  The Body of Christ is the gift of Christ himself and no matter who you are or what you believe or what part of something somewhere in the Church that you don’t believe or don’t quite understand – this Body of Christ, this simple wafer that is quickly handed to you in a long line of waiting people – is exactly and precisely what Jesus Christ meant you to receive.

At the end of the bread’s consecration prayer I say, “which is given up for you.”  Notice the ending pronoun, it is “you.”

At the end of the wine’s consecration I say, “do this in memory of me.”  Notice the ending pronoun, it is Christ.  It is the union of you and Jesus Christ within a community of us all struggling people.  Each in our own way but lived and offered to God through the Eucharist.

And that long line we stand in is the “Body of Christ” exemplified by our reception.  We receive on behalf of ourselves and we also receive to represent the whole of our community.  During your waiting in line – please think first about someone or something in need of God’s grace and then, secondly, think of your concerns.  For many years now, I’ve never lifted the Chalice without dedicating the elevation to someone or someplace else.  We are in this world together with, through and in Christ – even in our own selfishness, our own sinfulness or those judgments of others by you and me.

Please pardon a bit of theology this early morning.  The “Body of Christ” we receive is not a symbol.  A symbol points to something else, it never represents itself.  The Boys Scout logo points to its eager young learners, the cross of Christ points to his life given for us.

In the Catholic Church, the “Body of Christ” is called the “real presence” because it points to nothing or anyone except its eating, its reception by us this day.  Our good friends the protestants believe it to be a symbol and God bless them for it but for us Catholics, it’s what Coca Cola called, “the real thing.”  No bishop or priest can tell you when or when not to receive this wafer containing “enriching, grace-filled” energy of God’s love and mercy.  It was not theirs to give so it cannot be theirs to deny or take away. (repeat)  It is the “Body of Christ.”

That is unless of course, “You roll your eyes during any of my sermons…”

We gotta have rules!

book_coverA Great Gift Idea

A new book by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
Available at Amazon.com
Paperback or Kindle is $14.95.  Enjoyable reading.

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My Stuffed “It”

Posted on July 26, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

stuffed-dog-prettyI just hold on to “it.”  I cuddle, carry and press close me the thing that I have no idea what it is because I’m only four years old but I will not let go of “it.”  Just try.

“It.”  So impersonal.  Some of us have named our “it” but I just know what “it” is that travels with me throughout the day and through my dreams at night.

Mom says “it’s” getting tattered, worn and should be washed but I know that’s because “it’s” been used daily and possessed; more importantly than oxygen as though I know what oxygen is at four.  I’ll shake your hand with “it” against my chest but don’t think that the hand shaking would occur without “it” safely snuggled by me, “its” owner.

A quandary for mom and a totally consoling and soothing addition to a four year old.  When should mom give me those grown up words, “time to let go of ‘it’” as those my “it” could die or be no more?  Perhaps on my 18th birthday mom could cleverly pose the question without me answering her as though further discernment is needed about my holding on to my fluffy and now fully tattered “it.”

Originally the shape was clearly a long eared puppy with lonesome eyes and an imaginary-wagging tail.  Was our connection love at first sight or was it meant to be?  It doesn’t matter because the “it” and me happened.  I just knew it.  I talked to “it” and “it” always responded but I have no idea what “it” said.  I’d bring up current events and amazingly “it” would agree with me.  Smart puppy, my “it.”  With “it” beside me, I felt that I could do the next “it” in my life that four year olds are supposed to do.

I never make a distinction between my cheap, cotton puppy and myself.  “It” was never “that;” “it” was comfortably a part of me.  So-called friends tried to take “it” away from me but I quickly learned that loud screaming pays off.  I got “it” back.  I looked at “it” and “it” saw me.  (I’m only four years old, what do you expect?)

Is “it” slowly replacing my mom as I grow up or is “it” an extension of her as my age extends into the troubling and confusing world of kindergarten?  Do others in kindergarten have an “it” like mine so I don’t feel so bad or should I leave “it” at home and just remember the memories of “it”?  Oh, the trials of being four years old carrying a now seemingly tattered cotton thing that should be washed or tossed out by any mom but refused to be by any four year old.  (See: “quickly learned that loud screaming pays off.”)

It’s “it.”  There’s no proper noun for this clung to thing, caressed by and by my sleeping side each night.  To give “it” a name would make it separate from me which is out of the question.  How can a unity be separated?  By a stupid, separate name it can.

Is religion an “it” or is religion something so close and intimate to you that you neither name it, disown it or discard it?  The “it” of religion is held deeply within us, separated by nothing, mostly unnamed and held close to our bosoms to get us through the next day of stuff needing to be accomplished.

Is the “it” of my long gone cotton puppy what others could call “a crutch?”  Does religion replace my childhood “it” with an adult version that placates and explains away all that needs placating and explaining?  Are all those unbelievers correct to rid me of my “it” and then to be or behave according to their “it’s”?  Unbelievers’ “its” are normally all anti-my-“it” and replaced with nothing.  It’s so very easy to be against something with no alternative.

If I started a war with my “it”  then I agree with them.  If I held my “it” over your “it,” I also agree with them.  If I use my “it” for personal gain than I’ll know that my “it” is not really an “it.”

Just let anyone on the playground of life take away my “it” because they can’t.  I’m not scared or frightened of them because I have my “it” close beside and within me.  And I don’t need to scream loudly anymore either.

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Airplanes & Prayer

Posted on July 24, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

18k1aj46yuv9ijpgPrayer.  Mysterious, with unknown answers, obligatory answers, fluid impressions that pass for answers, mostly sincere.

If you thought prayer was mysterious – could you ever imagine in your wildest dreams that, no matter your political stripes, Donald Trump would be what he is today?  No wonder the hot is unseemly outside.

But this is about “prayer,” our daily, weekly, situational, or once-in-a-lifetime pious offering to God for something or someone but mostly always about ourselves.  Prayers for family and friends and even prayers for those who’ve died have as though our continuing prayers continues or changes their lives.
You gotta love it.  “Prayer.”  Prayer is like airline announcements from pilots and flight attendants (formerly “stewardesses”) that all together baffle, surprise and even amuse us.  Just like God seems to do for us through our prayers.  How about this: A flight attendant’s comment on a less than perfect landing: “We ask you to please remain
seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal.”

The first officer wishing passengers well as they left the plane after a bad landing said he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye.  Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking with a cane.  She said, “Sonny, mind if I ask you a question?”  “Why no Ma’am,” said the pilot. “What is it?”  The little old lady said, “Did we land or were we shot down?”

After a real crusher of a landing in Phoenix, the flight attendant came on with, “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Capt. Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the gate.  And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we’ll open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal.”

Prayer.  Should you repeat again and again church verses as though we are magically one with the Divine?  Should we knee when we pray to offer God not only during our words but our seemingly sincere posture, and how about lighting a candle at $1.50 a piece to enlighten a God, whom we think needs enlightenment?  And, at a 50% markup for the parish, by the way.

The mystery of air flight:
Flight attendant: ”We’d like to thank you folks for flying with us today.  And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you’ll think of us.”
On a Continental flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights.  This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.”
On landing the stewardess said, “Please be sure to take all your belongings. If you’re going to leave anything, please make sure it’s something we’d like to have.”
Another flight attendant says on a different flight, ”There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane.”

The mystery of prayer is that often the unexpected happens.  Is prayer answered by our mysterious God or is our prayer unfolded by the life before us?  Or is it both?  I truly don’t know.

The mystery of air flight:
“Thank you for flying Delta Business Express.  We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.”
After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in Memphis, a flight attendant on Northwest announced, “Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because after a landing like that, sure as hell everything has shifted.”

“Sure as hell, everything has shifted.”  You want a definition of prayer?  The flight attendant gave it to us.  Things have shifted.  What we thought was so secure and  truly unbending has been sometimes bent, torn or shattered.
Children don’t behave according to our daily, offered prayers.  One family hears more about their daughter through Facebook from her than in person.  Have their prayers been answered or slightly modified?  Is that God’s answering their prayers or is it life unfolding with a Creator’s wink?

The airline mystery continues:
From a Southwest employee: “Welcome aboard Southwest.  To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle and pull tight.  It works just like every other seat belt and if you don’t know how to operate one, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unsupervised.”
Another flight attendant, different flight, says, ”In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling.  Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face.  If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with the small child’s. If you are traveling with more than one small child…pick your favorite.”

Then there’s personal prayer.  A prayer to the Almighty to grant this or that to you.  The Catholic Church still has plenary indulgences to erase 30 minutes of your purgatory time against your life’s misdeed of 10 minutes.  There is also 60 minutes off purgatory if you light that $1.50 candle, slightly marked up.  Our Sunday special is two candles for $2.00 if if you light them before Noon before the church doors are locked and God no longer is available.

The airline mystery continues:
“Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but we’ll try to have them fixed before we arrive.  Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Southwest Airlines.”
“Your seat cushions can be used for flotation; and, in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them along with you with our compliments.”
“Should the cabin lose pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the overhead area.  Please place the bag over your own mouth and nose before assisting children… or other adults acting like children.”

Sorry folks, you chose the wrong Mass today.  I have no idea of the power of prayer but I still pray.  I do know of some gimmicks and dismiss them but that’s up to you.  If you believe that nine days of saying something again and again gains something more from eternal life, then perhaps you’re more ahead of this prayer game than I am.
Had you chosen a different Mass you may have heard a priest speak eloquently about the beauty of prayer and even suggest prayers for your eternal salvation.  Short of a PowerPoint presentation because of lighting limitations, he would have laid out for you all the answers you need to have prayers not only heard but answered by God.  But like you, I just don’t know but I’ll keep trying.  I want God to follow my life and help by brother help his daughter and my niece even if it’s only through Facebook.  I’m with you.  I don’t know much about prayer.
But I’ve always known that my prayers have been answered completely.  Just keep knocking, keep knocking and who knows who’ll answer the door to your prayers.

But please don’t forget about our Sunday candle special on two candles for the price of one. Good until Noon and cannot be combine with any other offer or coupon.  It’s only
good in the United States and only if you are a registered citizen, in good standing and preferably white.

Couple more airline mysteries:
“As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses.”
And from the pilot during his welcome message:  “Delta Airlines is pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the industry.  Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!”
Heard on Southwest Airlines just after a very hard landing in Salt Lake City, ”That was quite a bump, and I know what y’all are thinking.  I’m here to tell you it wasn’t the airline’s fault, it wasn’t the pilot’s fault, it wasn’t the flight attendant’s fault…it was the asphalt!”
After an extremely hard landing in Texas, the flight attendant said, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Amarillo.  Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened while the captain taxis to the gate what’s left of our airplane.”

So, fasten your religious seat belts, find the exit doors, don’t forget to take a large vitamin C pill before boarding and prayerfully savor your unique journey through life.  Yes, there will be bumps along the way but clear skies also lay before you.  It’s rare these days to find a non-stop flight … but ours truly is.

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