“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.

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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.

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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.

Posted in Eucharist, Spirituality | Tagged | 1 Comment

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.

Posted in Airplanes, Spirituality | Tagged , | 1 Comment

“Christian Values!?”

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

Honesty.  Truthfulness.  Hard work.  Integrity.  Dignity.

Values to live by.  Values to strive for.  They’re “Christian values.”  I say “Christian values” because I passed a Christian high school and there’s banners all over saying, “Teaching Christian values.”  I drove passed the school thinking to myself, “Mmmmm, what’s a ‘Christian value’?”

I ran through a list in my mind and came up with what you just heard.  There are more but I just remembered that I forgot “sacrifice,” didn’t I; big mistake.  Big Christian value.  Oh hell, I forgot “forgiveness” as well.  How can you forget our greatest sin next to cheating at Bingo.  Can you cheat at Bingo? Jesus says not once or twice for forgiveness but more times than we care to do it.  Sacrifice is the toughest of them all because it calls for us to step back and step forward for someone or something else.  Just look at any parent with small children and you soon discover sacrifice’s definition.

None of us created these values, they’ve been handed on to us by the generation before us and they were received from the generation previous to theirs.  It is ongoing cycle and living up to those laudable values is no easy task.  It takes a context, an anchor that holds us in place to be honest, truthful, hard working, dignified and sacrificial people.  These are truly Christian values.

Moses says it best in our first reading today.  Returning to the Lord with both your heart and soul is no mystery.  It is not remote.  “Who’ll go to the sky for us?” he says and “who will cross the sea to get it for us…that we may carry it out?”  Moses answers with the simple remark that it is “very near to us, already in our mouths and in our hearts; we only have to carry it out and read Fr. Joe’s blog, joejagodensky. com.

We know what the important values are that need to be rooted in our lives.  We only need to uncover them and cherish them as much as we do eating the Body of Christ.  Did I mention “sacrifice” as a value?

You know, on second thought, forget everything I just said because most of it isn’t true.  There is no such thing as a “Christian value.”  How divisive of that high school to place banners proclaiming values unique to the Christian church.  Jews don’t work hard?  Muslims aren’t trustworthy and dignified?  My Unitarian sister isn’t a person of integrity?  Hell, Moses wasn’t a Christian.  Let’s separate ourselves even more from each other when we have so much in common, like values.  Have I told you about “sacrifice” yet?

Values only take on a unique twist when anchored in something or someone.  For us, it’s Jesus Christ.  For many, many others it is someone or something else.  If you want to worship a tree every Sunday at Whitnall Park, and are striving to live values – then hug that tree a little harder today because that’s what we’re doing here every Sunday – trying to make the values of Jesus our own.  (And Jesus didn’t create values either by the way, just in case you’re trying to get a step ahead of me.)

And you don’t “teach values,” you live and witness them.  If the sacrificial dad counsels his son on charity and then kicks the cat after his first drink; then you know what I’m talking about.  That’s teaching minus the true living, the authentic witness.

Honesty.  Truthfulness.  Hard work.  Integrity.  Dignity and so many more values to aspire to.  These are all universal values we can all cherish and make a part of our lives.

I ought to call that high school and suggest a new banner for their marketing scheme.  How about “Teaching Christian Values That Aren’t Really Christian But We Want To Lure You Inside Our School Because Of Elitism.”  I know it’s more words and replacing the old banners would cost more money but do you think they’ll buy it?  No, it’s just too easy to keep doing what they’re doing.  Just keep selling “Christian values” as though there are any; as though they belong only to the Christian church.

Forget my revised banner suggestion, I’m confident their high school is full of students dying to hear made up “Christian values” that are universally held and believed. If I haven’t brought up “sacrifice” yet, would this be a good time?

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Called But Not Chosen

Posted on June 23, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Happily, it was not my ordination but it was jury duty. It was the first time I was asked to serve. I was very nervous, unusually so. The thought of being actively a part of a process that I safely watched on television was daunting. When my name was called it was surreal. “Just follow the others and look like you know what you’re doing,” I told myself.

It was a very solemn occasion. It’s society’s cathedral. What is more sacred than our judicial system? The judge painstakingly (and I mean in terms of time) spelled out the duty, honor and privilege we all shared in being there. Essentially, he had to sell America to Americans.  I could tell by their postures that not one of them wanted to be there. You could have also guessed it from the clothing worn by the thirty of us. (I wouldn’t clean my garage in some of those clothes.)  All of them seemed to have preferred a dentist visit rather than an afternoon in that hallowed room.

For some reason, the attorneys didn’t think that I fit in. (I could have told them that before all those questions they asked me.) I was rejected. I was never picked for team sports so why did I hold up hope for jury duty? Thirteen other people were carefully selected for whatever qualifications escaped me.

Later that night my reflection went back to the great, opening speech given by the judge. He tried to convince us how important and significant was this calling (or summons under pain of prosecution) that we all received. (I thought Americans were gung-ho!)  My reflection was if I had to do that kind of convincing for parishioners in church, I would have given up on them years ago. I could never persuade someone to discover what is already inside them.  Namely, the gift of faith. Too bad we have to do it for another one of nature’s gifts; namely, freedom.

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Life’s Pregnancies

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

The three children arrive as quickly as they could.  The nurse said it would only be a short time now.  They gather and assemble around the bed as though the now was happening now.

Hours pass and they’ve relaxed on the couch and chairs around the hospice room.  They don’t use the words but all of their eyes tell each other that now may not be the now that the nurse thought was now.  (“Oh well, modern medicine,” as chuckles hide their hidden grief.)

It was only 40 and 45 and 48 years ago that she laid in a similar bed full of hope and anticipation.  After all it’s her first and only…no, it’s her second and we hope the last, but no again and number three arrives.  Each one, pregnant with pregnant joy.

What is “pregnant joy?”  It’s the kind of joy that makes your joy joyful.  Without the pregnant part, it’s just another church word that you rarely hear otherwise.  Who says, “My, what a joyful punch you’ve served!”  No.  Joy is a throwaway word preachers use to bolster an awaiting noun.  But a pregnant joy we know even though we can’t always believe that it’s possible.  “Pregnant” because of its fullness of unknowns and potential. “Joy” because of its ultimate otherness.  Put those two words together and you get unspeakable feelings of peace, contentment and, yes, even bliss (another word too rarely heard).

Day three arrives and the three remain dutifully around her bed.  The stories these three have recalled and remembered over those days made them laugh and cry with always a glance or nod to their silent mom.  Nothing’s changed but everything has changed.  “The pregnancy of this waiting had to grow over these days,” they say to themselves only without those words.

Waiting was a lot easier years ago than it is today.  We’re so mobile now with our immobile products that keep us connected to people we don’t really need to talk to and message each other useless information and silly photos.  That small logo “i” identifies many of our handheld products and represents what we’ve probably become because of them – instant, impatient and immediate.  (All “i” words!?)  Their waiting wears on after day five but the three believe the pregnancy is drawing closer and they don’t wish to miss it.  It will never happen again no matter how they may try to imagine it in their minds.

The labor she bore during those three times was predictable, nothing special except the special life that life provided.  Two weeks of hospital respite gave her time to recoup, a luxury that is a 33 1/3 vinyl record away from our present lives.

The short breathes were the giveaways.  The three were just recounting a 30 year old story where milk was spilled all over the birthday cake when mom began calling them.  They were all laughing when her breathing got spotty and heavy.

The pregnancies that she prayed and hoped for came to be.  Three strong, healthy children circle her bed.  Two heads are now lowered and the youngest is crying.  She passed.  She died.  The pregnancy that her mother bore her now gives birth to the pregnancy she now enters.  I guess that would make it her second pregnancy.

This pregnancy has been germinating for years and years and years and it’s now come due.  Her life’s labor has ended.  Her new life begins as surely as she gave new life to her three children, hardly children anymore who say their final goodbyes as she says, “Hello.”

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The Great Religious Punchline

Posted on June 12, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

A Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him,
and he entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at table.
Now there was a sinful woman in the city
who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee.
Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.
He said to the woman,
“Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

magdalenejesusfeethair“A Pharisee invites Jesus to dine with him…” and we all wait for the punch line.  Where’s Henny Youngmen or Shecky Green when you need them?  Or how about, “A priest, a minister and a rabbi walk into a bar” and we all wait for the punchline.

We all wait patiently for the joke to conclude, sometimes it takes a while but eventually we get to the end – the punch line.  Jesus today gives us a greatest punchline of our lives – “your faith has saved you, go in peace.”  No laugh track, just a sigh and a deep joy.

“Your faith has saved you, go in peace.”  Eight words that determines which vertical direction you’re headed when this life has ended.  Or has it?  I don’t believe that.

Jesus forgives the sinful “foot woman” because of her great, many sins.  Pretty weird when you think about it.  The rest of us has gotta get out there and sin some more in order to experience the forgiveness of Jesus.  Martin Luther said, “If you’re going to sin, sin boldly.”  Catholics sin sinfully, “Bless me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was two weeks ago…I missed my morning prayers 14 times.”  So I think to myself, “Mmmm…two weeks, 14 times, that’s everyday, missed morning prayers…what the hell is a ‘morning prayer’ and is it sinful to miss it?”  Catholics can’t even sin well enough for the great forgiveness offered us by Jesus saying the punchline,  “Your faith has saved you, go in peace.”

What fills you up?  What fills up your life?  It may not be one thing but several or many things or people that fill you to life’s brim.  Or is it the emptiness within our lives that fills us?  Just imagine being “filled” with emptiness, filled with nothing.  That’s what make Jesus’ forgiveness important – the emptiness that fills us up so much that we can’t bear it any longer.

The Gospel’s “foot woman” is so full of stuff she no longer likes about herself that she finally finds cleansing through applying ointment to Jesus’ feet.  She can now live in peace because the emptiness that once filled her is now full of something – hope-filled and empowered.  She’s been lifted up, taken away from herself and then returned, whisked from herself but brought back renewed because she was sick and tired of being full of nothing.

The Blessed Mother was full of it but her fullness was accumulated slowly by God’s grace and inspiration.  We politely call her fullness “grace” but Mary, believe me, was full of it.

When we suspect a lie is being told to us what do we reply, “Oh, you’re full of it,” and people know what we mean.  We’re full of the games we’ve played with ourselves and now we try to play the same game with others and find that it doesn’t work.  Sooner or later, however, that false or empty fullness takes over our lives and we need to carefully bend down, wash and anoint the feet of the Son of God.  “Your faith has save you, go in peace.”

You know if the pope died tomorrow, he’d be known forever for one word.  Can you guess that word?  It’s “mercy.”  It’s God’s mercy not only extended to ourselves but most especially shared with others.  Because if mercy begins with you first then, in your need for fullness, it can only expand to others – just like that rippling, small pebble tossed into the water.  “Your faith has saved you, go in peace.”

Jesus says to the Gospel “foot woman,” “Don’t just kneel there but go, get out of here.  Find a nice restaurant, you don’t want to eat with a Pharisee.  Go.  Do something with this newly found peace of yours.”  Jesus says, “Do something more and beyond yourself so all may know that the peace you extend to them comes not from you but from me.”

As Christians we’ve now heard life’s and can live the ultimate punchline.

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