Musical Joy

Posted on May 28, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Mic

It’s simply simple letters that create a symphony. EGBDFA on the top and the bottom is FACE.  They total 88 piano keys. In between them are lots of sharps and flats that truly add to the emerging musical composition and there are those sharps and flats that interrupt our lives.  Those periodic sharp edges that call for our attention and those often flats that leave us, well, flat until we pick ourselves up again and again and once more again.

It’s music and Michael plays many of those 88 sounds each week making this weekly gathering of prayer joyful. “Joy.”  An unusual word that we usually hear only in church but dismiss every achieving within our lives.  Joy is always just around that next corner or it’s the year after this awful year.  (Or is it that year after the next year!?)  Elusive and evasive, joy seems to be the reward for anyone else but me.  Music has always helped define a moment in my life or re-solidify it when I hear the song again. What would we do without music?  Who would we be without music?  Who are we with music?

Rap? That’s not music.  Hell, I can do rap.  “…I’m Fr. Joe…I went to the show…I let one go…”  That’s not music.

For me it was 1965 and listening to “Downtown” by Petula Clark and “Oh, How Happy” by Shades of Blue played on my Sears Silvertone turntable; again and again.  I must have driven my mother nuts.  The songs just sounded so good.  I mentioned Petula to a co-worker and she had no idea who I was talking about!

My pretend radio show in my bedroom the same year was “Bachelor In Paradise” by Henry Mancini. It was my theme song opening up my imagined radio show in front of an imaginary audience.  The song had a nice, light sound to it to pretend being on the radio which eventually did happen.  1966 it was lip-syncing to “Happy Together” by The Turtles at my grade school graduation.  Thirty years later I meet two classmates who married and that’s all they remember about me during our eight years together of Catholic education.

If you suspect an affair in your spouse I wouldn’t advise buying Luther Vandross’, “If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Wanna Be Right,” or Billy Paul’s “Me and Mrs. Jones.” You may wish to consider Nancy Sinatra’s, “These Boots Are Made For Walking.”

I decide to end a fourteen year run of our WTMJ radio call-in show and driving to the station for the last time on a Sunday night, The Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rosie sing, “It’s Too Late To Turn Back Now.”  I smiled that my decision was shared by singing artists.  Laying prostrate at St. Gregory the Great Church and waiting for the ordination oils to be applied to my hands, “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” runs through my head.  (I’m told that I’m more spiritual than religious, whatever that means.)

Breaking curfew and escaping the high school seminary in St. Nazianz the four of us hitchhike to Manitowoc and knock on the door of radio’s WOMT.  The announcer runs down the stairs and finally answers and we request the song, “We Gotta Get Out of This Place,” by The Animals.  We walk to Big Boy restaurant and wait for the song to the played.  He played it.  I replaced that same Manitowoc announcer three years later when he placed “Lay, Lady, Lay” by Bob Dylan on one of the two turntables and walked out of the building leaving me on my own for six glorious hours of playing rock music.

You “cued” up the “45 record” in those days.  The turntable swung both ways as you listened for the first note and then a half turn back.  You were all set then to introduce the record and turn it on.  The problem was that after a few “cues up” a scratch was audible so the second or third note need to be chosen and needed to talk louder in your introduction to hide the scratches.  For me, that was radio as it was meant to be. But I was stuck with “Jagodensky.”  I needed a more clever name and my brother suggests “Joe Gerard” (my middle name) so I finally became a rock jock.

Our Christian faith is so often reduced to things: You and God when our faith is so much more than that.  Do you focus on your stupid sins and failures or do you focus on God’s eternal mercy which just may help you resolve your stupid sins and failures?  Pope Francis calls this year a “Year of Mercy.”  That’s only this year.  God’s mercy is celebrated for centuries.  It’s our collective Christian theme song.  But how often do we prefer Gilbert O’Sullivan’s “Alone Again, Naturally” instead of God’s mercy.
“In a little while from now, If i’m not feeling any less sour
I promise myself to treat myself, And visit a nearby tower
And climbing to the top will throw myself off…Alone again, naturally.”

Joy is never a corner away nor is joy a year you dream of. Joy is your hand outstretched toward someone greater and wiser than yourself who passes back to you an armful of wisdom to “help the medicine go done.”  (that’s from the “Sound of Music.”)

A high school senior and my weekend radio Manitowoc shift is Saturday nights from 6:30 to midnight and Sundays 6:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m. and then back to the seminary.  Sunday morning music was soothing and calm like “Just A Cup of Coffee” by Carmen McRae is the one I recall the best.  Then a local Sunday Lutheran service for an hour followed by more songs by Ray Conniff and Bert Kaempfert than both would have wanted to hear.  The news of the day at Noon was followed by a Polka Party before the Sunday Packer game.

By 4:00 on a Sunday afternoon, I already was a Saturday night rock jock, the smooth-sounding WGN’s Franklin MacCormack Sunday mornings, Walter Cronkite and the Polish Polka Prince – all before Bart Starr took the field.

1970 and The Carpenters release “Close to You.”  I was blown away.  I played it twice in a row that night.  I’m happy to say that I introduced Manitowoc listeners to James Taylor when I found, “Fire and Rain.”

Joy is never elusive when it’s only a few notes away from your heart. Joy is when that sharp or flat finds the key right next to it full of harmonious harmonies.  That’s the key that opens the musical keys to a joy-filled life.  It’s called music.  It’s called joy.  It’s called 88 reasons to love life regardless of what life imposes upon you or what you impose upon your own life.  It’s called every “Opening Song” that Michael plays within this sacred place and rousing closing song to send us forth into a new week or adventure and capturing a bit, at least, of that joy.

Music.  I love it and I end where I began with a musical artist my co-worker never hear of but I love hearing and singing at full volume.

“Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossa nova
You’ll be dancing with ’em too before the night is over
Happy again.  The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go…”

 

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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A “Marriage Engagement” Sermon

Posted on May 28, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Hot-Sale-In-Brazil-18K-Gold-Plated-Couple-Ring-Engagement-Wedding-Band-Ring-For-Lovers-ManOne of the most awfullest words heard today is “commitment.”  “Ehhh, commit what and to whom?”  The sentiment is real but their pronoun would have been wrong.  (They would have said “who” instead of the correct “whom.”)

“Commitment.”  A public announcement that is publicly acclaimed and accepted.

Here’s three great “A” words for you today, announcement, acclamation and acceptance.  We could call them the three “A’s” to a happy marriage.

“Happy marriage,” an oxymoron to most people these days with divorces after the first five years.  Just five years is the test run and then it’s decided that it’s over.

I was talking to a man who’s wife died after 69 years of marriage.  They had sex every night, “partied like it was 1999” (reference to Prince), ate whatever they wanted and fooled around with other people just to keep their relationship “fresh.”  I’m kidding.

69 years. 1945, he said.  Just imagine if you were making a movie of their lives what you would include in the film without even knowing them.  Just the span of time would cause all kinds of changes and upheavals as well as joyful and celebrating events with a growing family and friends.  Job changes, house movings, colicky babies and evenings spent wondering when their teenage daughter would return safely home from “that party.”

Marriage isn’t a commitment to each other, it’s a commitment to a shared life.  It’s a commitment of your life to another person whom you will never fully understand (even when you think you do), it’s a commitment to somehow, sometimes become two while always remaining one (and that’s a trick in itself).  That’s why I have cats.  Forget the Hallmark cards and be weary of those lofty “church prayers” about two becoming one.  If you’re a unique snowflake that your parents kept telling you that you were growing up then marriage will not melt your snowflake into the oneness of one snowflake.

That’s called growth, both personal and relational.  Can you two grow together as he did with his wife beginning in 1945.

The first “a” has been accomplished.  You’ve announced to all who care that you’re getting married as though it’s the end.  Engagement is intended to be a testing time between the two of you.  Questions are asked and weighed and carefully answered.  “What about this?”  “What happens when that occurs?” are asked and hopefully sincere answers are provided to the best of your abilities.  Whether it’s a cancer diagnosis after the second year or a huge promotion for only one of you adjustments and compromises need to be made.  It that love or devotion?  Do you love each other as best as you can or can you be devoted to each other through all the thicks and thins that life throws at you?

The Church’s role is the second “a” -the acclamation.  The Church can only celebrate what the two of you profess in front of her.  Along with family and friends the acclamation is the sacramental bond the Church either inflicts or imposes or blesses and empowers upon the two of you.  It’s up to you two to life out which one it will be.

The third “a” of acceptance is done completely in private between the two of you after all the toasters you don’t need are unwrapped and the top of your wedding cake freezes for some future occasion.  Acceptance.  If you thought commitment was big stuff just try living and exhibiting acceptance.

You’d think there’d be a receipt of success after all these years of this powerful union but there isn’t.  Just antidotes from people who like to write about themselves but has little meaning for the two of you.  Elizabeth Taylor tried it eight times and “The Donald” is on number three.

The irony (note the correct use of the word) is that you are committing to something that has so often failed, in recent times, for so many for far too many years.  The rest of the irony is that life always brings people together, two lives click for whatever reason and 69 years later she passes away leaving him with more memories than he can remember.

69 years for him and a waiting year for you two.  May God bless and watch over the mystery upon which you two are about to embark.

Did I tell you that I have two cats?  It a lot easier.

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“Hope Does Not Disappoint”

Posted on May 22, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Hope-Does-Not-Disappoint“and we boast in hope of the glory of God.
Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions,
knowing that affliction produces endurance,
and endurance, proven character,
and proven character, hope,
and hope does not disappoint…”

St. Paul gives us today four levels of living.  Sometimes Paul’s gotten it wrong as history and theology has proven on but this “Trinity Sunday” he’s hit it on the mark.  Afflictions leads to endurance which then lead to character (not only character but proven character) which then leads to hope, and hopes does not disappoint.

But it’s not quite the American dream, is it?  That last step should surely be success complete with a swimming pool and illegal aliens cleaning it.  After all those afflictions surely there should be a reward, a happy ending, a success.  What good is affliction unless there’s a lollypop or at least a quarter under your pillow when you wake up in the morning.  Isn’t that how most movies end up?  Isn’t that how our lives are supposed to end up?

Rather, St. Paul wisely alerts us that our afflictions leads to tougher skins or the strength preparing us for affliction’s next possible onslaught.  Endurance – I love that word.  The word means, “keep going,” “go the distance,” whatever that may be.  The word means that your last mistake now becomes a newly learned lesson.  Endurance means that your yesterdays do not determine and can never repeat again in your tomorrows.  Endurance means I never have to hear that awful phrase from friends, “it is what it is.”  Two pronouns that represent nothing but a losing attitude.  Endurance is the accumulation of afflictions along with collected successes that propel all of us to continue on.  ”Go Forward,” is Wisconsin’s proud motto.  “He picked himself up and dusted himself off.”  “She got back on that bicycle.  “She got back on the horse.”  “He swallowed his pride and continued his work.”

You may not know this but I am only as good as my last sermon.  That’s right.  Sixteen years of earned worth at this wonderful parish is only as good as what I say to you today.

“Did you hear what he said to us today?”  “What a loser.”  “I always thought he was a bit off, for my tastes.”  Endurance can also mean that I hear what you’re thinking but I will be here again in two weeks.  If not to inspire then to haunt.

And do you know why?  Again, it’s because of St. Paul’s list.  He tells us that the next step after endurance is character.  And I’d love to land and talk about character but it’s the final step that takes the “faithful” cake and that’s hope.  St. Paul assures us that hope is not only not the end but that hope doesn’t disappoint.

(We’ll have more on St. Paul’s final step of “hope” but first we interrupt this boring sermon for an important announcement.)

Good morning.  Are you tired and lonely?  Harmony.com has someone waiting for you right now.  We don’t care if you’re married or not.  Just check us out.
Seriously, a footnote about character.  The author James Hillman (two “l’s) has a wonderful book called “The Force of Character.”  If you bring a receipt I’ll reimburse you for all the copies that you buy.  Just go to Amazon.com.  It’s three chapters with three “L’” titles: “Lasting,” “Leaving” and “Left.”  If you’re over 50, please buy the book and bring your receipt.  You will read all about the power that the gift of character brings to your life especially adding St. Paul’s adjective “proven” character.
All reimbursements are dependent upon local, state, federal and FDIC regulations.  Proof of citizenship, photo ID and proof that you’ve never had a Ted Cruz bumber sticker on your car is required.  Please contact an attorney near you for details.

(And now we return you to Sunday’s solemn sermon.)

It’s because hope originates both within and outside of us.  Hope began with our first breath and became a Christian hope at our baptisms.  Hope also prompts something or someone greater with ourselves.  Hope is what makes character possible.

I’m a “character” as you all are.  The altar servers here today have no idea what I’m talking about because they shouldn’t.  “Character” hasn’t yet evolved for them but it will soon enough.  And then they’ll become “characters” in this drama that is always full of life.

It’s intriguing that St. Paul ends his list of four with “hope.”  Because hope cannot be the end.  An unnamed hope.  An unknown hope.  Hope is an out-of-our-control type of virtue that Christians cheerfully call the “Holy Spirit.”  Unbelievers would have a field day with St. Paul’s last step of hope.  They’d tell us that it is now time for fairy tales full of – wishing, wishing and more wishing.  But hope is not wishing.  Hope is based in a faith committed to justice, peace and mercy.  Inspiring words rooted in our Creator and given flesh by our words and actions.  That’s what “Trinity Sunday” is all about.

God, Creator, gave us this gift of life.  Jesus Christ, Uncreated yet created, showed us what to do with this gift.  The Holy Spirit is that fluid hope that fills us each time we pray in the Trinity’s name, each time we act in the Trinity’s name, each time we witness the Trinity’s name to someone in need, hurting, confused or angry.

In the U.S. this last step ought to end up with that swimming pool, in true Donald Trump style.  Audacious, capacious, extravagant, narcissistic and outright selfish.  But it’s not the last step.  Faith wisely tells us and sometimes abruptly tells us that the last step is not financial success or power over others but it’s – powerfully the virtue of “hope,” nourished within us and then lived in everyday situation in our lives.

Hope that your son makes it through college in his grades and without breaking the family bank, hope that you get your deserved raise, hope that the diagnosis was incorrect, hope that your marriage is a simple pothole and not a “road closed” sign, hope that you get that promotion, hope that retirement means something to you…it’s a list only labeled by those attending here today.

My absolute favorite of St. Paul’s list is “character.”  You can only be a character if you’ve experienced affliction and learned endurance.  That’s what defines and what character means.  Character is that time in life when you have something to work with, you’ve earned your stuff and can now do something with that stuff; your lamplight has plenty of oil as you await the bridegroom.  All towards that final step called the mysterious and glorious virtue of hope.  Because “hope does not disappoint,” so says wise St. Paul on this “Trinity Sunday.”

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Pornography & Priest Abuse

Posted on May 9, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

The U.S. Bishops published a document warning about pornography, especially these days with the Internet.  It’s interesting to contrast their statements today with the priest abuse of the past how many years.  The italics is the pornography statement.

The Church has always had the duty of “scrutinizing the signs of the times” and “interpreting them in the light of the Gospel.”
“If I knew then what I know now,” was the bishop’s statement for how many years.  Priest abuse of children was considered a “moral failing” and not a criminal offense.

Pornography, though not new, is a particularly dark “sign” of the modern world, one that harms countless men, women, children, marriages, and families. Today it can be considered a structure of sin.
Catholic Church structures were in place by not being in place.  It was assumed that men and women be consoled or transferred again and again with letters of vague language while never admitting an abuse of any kind.

It is so pervasive in sectors of our society that it is difficult to avoid, challenging to remove, and has negative effects that go beyond any one person’s actions.
How many bishops throughout the world thought that the priest abuse was isolated while cases of victims grew and grew.  “Pervasive” is an understatement for the Church’s blind eye.

At the same time, as with any sin, pornography’s prevalence in our society is rooted in the personal sins of individuals who make, disseminate, and view it, and by doing so further perpetuate it as a structure of sin.
“Structure of sin” is what caught my attention with this pornography document.  Pornography’s “structure” was (or is) the “structure” built into the Catholic Church hiding of hundreds and hundreds of priest abusers.
What color is this kettle?  I think the hierarchy should cleanse itself before trying to cleanse technology.

In the following paragraphs, we as pastors and shepherds evaluate its presence in our society. In imitation of Jesus, the Divine Physician, we examine the sickness of pornography in order to offer a fitting cure: the plentiful mercy and love of God given in the sacraments and in the Church’s accompaniment of those who strive steadfastly toward purity.
No comment necessary except perhaps the U.S. Bishops should wait fifty years before ever again talking about sexuality.

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Ascension: It’s the Feet

Posted on May 3, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

“Put your best foot forward,” we’re told throughout our lives.

It’s the last things those land locked apostles saw as Jesus left them to their own wits.  (Don’t worry, the Holy Spirit is en route and right on cue. Stage directions: Jesus leaves first, wait awhile then cue the Holy Spirit to enter the stage when the apostles least expect it,” says the director’s notes.)

It’s considered to be the worst part of us. It’s the pair of us that we often hide (unless you’re a woman choosing the “open toe” version). This pair is hidden from others at great expense for women but that may be changing these days. DSW moved to Burleigh, it’s farther now from my home. Imelda Marcos bragged of owning  3,000 pairs of them to hide hers. (What?  Did she have hammer toes?) Observers say of ours that they are sometimes unsightly, somewhat smelly – it’s the leftovers, the bottom part of our bodies yet nothing beats walking in the sand without wearing any of Imelda’s 3,000 pairs.

It’s been said this pair at the bottom of us is the first thing people notice so I guess during your important job interview make sure to hoist those suckers on the table to make the best impression.

What third grader says, “I want to be a podiatrist when I grow up?”  How does one stumble or walk into that field? There’s probably ten good reasons, but spiritually I’ll soon give you one.

The last thing the apostles see of Jesus is… his feet. They’ve misread, misunderstood, underestimated, underrated, questioned and wondered everything about this guy from the very beginning while all the time these two appendages been referred to and referenced about and metaphorized about…

his feet were on the ground,
he stood firmly,
his steps never faltered,
she washed his feet and then dried them with her hair,
his foot did not slip,
his steps did not deviate from His way,
he guided our feet in the way of peace,
he did not stand in the path of sinners,
he would shake the dust off of his feet,
all who were ill were placed at his feet and he healed them,
the synagogue official fell at his feet and implored him to come to his house,
Mary fell at his feet and said her brother would not have died if only he had…
Mary again seated at the Lord’s feet listened to his word,
he walked blamelessly,
he did not need to cut one foot off to save the other,
water could not stop his movements,
the pair of his were nailed together
and now it’s the last thing we see of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.  We see his feet.

Wash the feet of others Jesus tells us before his arrest. Peter goes nuts and wants a complete body wash but Jesus calmly tells him, “It’s the feet, dummy, just the feet.” Jesus asks us to touch a vulnerable spot in someone or ourselves and wash it with His Father’s sincere mercy and in His genuine love. Find the most painful, those difficult times, that most irksome, countless tireless arguments, sleepless endless regrets. Whatever bothers you the most, from now on – think first of that pair beneath you and then proceed to your struggle. Then watch what happens.

They all had dirty feet in those days so before entering a guest’s house or their own home they would naturally wash off the street’s dirt. (If only Imelda could have been left with 2,988 pairs of them then the apostles might have gotten Jesus’ message. Alas.)

We need a pair of them to take out the garbage at 9:00 p.m. We need this pair of them to get us to work and safely back home again. Some need to spend $150.00 on them in spite of who made them and in what third world country and at what meager daily wage. As we age we find we may need velcro to bind the pair of them.

We also need a pair of them to remind us of those vulnerable parts of our own lives before we judge the feet of others. It may not be theological but it’s certainly spiritual: the Ascension is all about the ugliest part of us, our feet. Let’s not be afraid to touch and soothe aching arches and tired soles. Mom called them “tootsies.” (And do pigs really go to the market?)  Let’s not be afraid to look for the hidden lint between those ten things that keep us from getting closer to ourselves and each other.

Is the true meaning of the Ascension that Jesus is heavenly raised upward as though that means anything to us in our day to day lives? Or is the Feast of the Ascension really about the man who walked among us and who still journeys with us, each step of the way?  One step at a time. He told us to wash ours and each others’ every chance we get.  And it’s the last thing we see of Him. I think it’s all about the feet.

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Receiving the Host: You or It?

Posted on April 11, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Corpus-Christi2As usual we put ourselves first instead of the mystery.  As usual it’s about us and not the that which we receive.

Years ago I’ve said that the “Body of Christ” is not a treat or reward for what you’ve done or achieved.  I’ve said that those against Church teachings should be the first in line to receive the “Body of Christ” often.

It’s always about “that strange little wafer” with ourselves following second.

Is that small “wafer” supposed to validate us or influence us for times to come?  Is that small “wafer” the end or the means toward one?  Is that small “wafer” reduced to a dog’s treat for a job well done or to remind us who’s in charge and of our human frailty in the midst of swallowing a bit of the Divine into our mouths?

For me, Communion sparks and enlightens in spite of the cattle call way of receiving the “Body of Christ.”

I don’t know who I present the “Body of Christ” to in the long line on a Sunday morning at St. Sebastians in Milwaukee.  Is she just following the crowd as it leads to me or she is struggling with a part of her life?  I don’t know.  Does he thinks he’s “gay” and doomed to eternal death as I hand him the Bread of Knowing?   I don’t know.  Do the children I bless, too young to receive, become a terrorist and blow up this church with me in it?  I don’t know.  Does the sinner who knows himself to be one but still receives, receive the promised gifts of reception?  I don’t know.

I don’t know.  They come forward and I present to them the “gift of life.” This small “wafer” prompts and propels  in its tiny shape but always mysterious in its results.

If we only realized that the conversation is not about questionably married people but it’s all about this tiny “wafer” that transforms and informs the lives of all who eat it.

Posted in Eucharist, Spirituality | 1 Comment

Easter Suffering

Posted on April 10, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Jesus-Peter-2The apostles “rejoiced that they were found worthy to suffer…”

“Worthy?”  What kind of word is that?  “Unworthy” is the easy word we use to describe ourselves so that we’re not responsible for anything or anyone.  After all, I’m “unworthy.”  Church prayers are loaded with “unworthy” sounding words and an optional rosary ending prayer has the folks “mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.”  I guess those folks don’t live in the Highlands.  Too bad.

But to rejoice in suffering is a big leap for anyone of any religion.  It’s all about the pizza.

I got two new cats a couple of weeks ago.  Thank you for your sympathy cards with financial gifts.  (There weren’t any.)  When I put my previous two cats to sleep they did not suffer.  It’s not because of the injection, it’s because cats can’t suffer.  Only we can suffer.  Cats experience aches and pain.  We suffer because we bring meaning and purpose to our lives – even if we’re wrong in our analysis.  We all have aches and pains but they remain just that.  To suffer means to infuse meaning and purpose into our lives.

Now what about those meanings and purposes?  A seminarian fresh out of school glibly tells you that God doesn’t “permit” suffering but “allows” it.  (A loving God that allows suffering?)  Cute answer but doesn’t answer the question.

A quick list for you.
•    God is testing you like He did Job, but Job had a happy ending
•    In medieval times suffering was considered God’s wrath but then again they didn’t       have a 65” flat screen TV in their living room
•    God is is getting back at you, forty years later, for cheating on your third grade spelling quiz.  “Thank you Lynn for showing me your answers in exchange for a kiss.”)
•    God is punishing you for no other way other than He’s God and you thought you were
•    You need to learn a lesson but you’re not sure what lesson needs to be learned

As usual, this is an easy homily to give you today because who’s the subject of my short list?  You.  Because it’s always about “you.”  However I didn’t finish the Gospel sentence.  The sentence ends with “in your name.”  The apostles “rejoiced that they were found worthy to suffer in his name.”  The name of Jesus Christ.

That’s our Christian faith.  (I should have had my cats baptized!)  Our Christian faith gives us meanings and purposes beyond ourselves.  (It’s too bad more Highland people can’t be here to hear that last sentence.)

“Offer it up,” mother told the five of us countless times.  We knew to whom but didn’t know the result.  “Offer it up.”  Did it mean finding someone in more suffering than myself so I can feel better about myself?  What I talk to you about a month ago.  We knew she meant the “poor souls in purgatory” which we never understood because those “poor souls” were in a waiting room on their way to heaven.  Why didn’t we offer it up for those perpetual losers in Hell?

Suffering is a difficult topic in our sanguine society but it is a part of every human life.  I don’t have a definition but we all know true suffering when we see it and marvel at its power to demean, decrease and disassemble us or those we love.  But then we meet someone with cancer who’s smiling and happy.  What’s with that?  (“Those drugs finally kicked in?”)  Someone with disabilities I can’t imagine on myself endures and flourishes.  Someone with two months to live enjoys a pizza with friends.  Who are these people?

In your suffering, when it happens to you or is happening to you this second, I hope that you are able to find the Lord’s name in your meaning and purpose; in God’s faithful trust.  Not  to find the Lord’s name in the cause (useless exercise) but in His divine promises (the very definition of faith).  Pain is awful.  That’s my cats.  (When I took the two new cats to my vet for a checkup, I told him that this time “I’ll go first!”)

Those are aches and pains.  To suffer is to experience the same pain but now with a faith-filled response.  I wish I had a clearer, priestly answer for all those who suffer but I don’t.  I can’t.  (I was that glib seminarian but now I know better.)  Suffering is so personal and yet it’s so universal.  I can only repeat what the Gospel says today, the third time is a charm.  It took Peter three times to finally realize that Jesus loved him as much as Peter loved Jesus.

“Ready, set, go” should be the sounding gun in all times of our lives.  Those with aches and pains sadly stop at “ready” and stagnant there.  Those who reach “set” are those knowing their life’s journey is with the risen Lord but not quite sure of the “why” part.  (That’s most of us.)  Those who reach “go” are those who rejoice that they were found “worthy to suffer in his name.”  They too don’t know all the “whys” of their suffering but they’re enjoying pizza with their friends.  Balistreri’s calls it “pizza,” in this sacred place we call it “Eucharist.”

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“The Wizard of Oz” and Faith

Posted on April 2, 2016 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

4353288-wizard-of-oz-caps-the-wizard-of-oz-2028565-720-536Twice a year if they’re lucky and perhaps a wedding or funeral thrown in defines their yearly active faith.  They’re believers but of a different kind.  They’re seeking the wizard when it’s the Munchkins that make a spiritual life meaningful.

I have a battery powered red light that spins and stops, spins and stops.  Catching the attention of cats, they chase the outward light.  My two new cats stare and bite at the contraption itself.  After awhile of staring at the large, white thing they meander away, off to the next room and miss the circling red light.

It’s only been two weeks with these new cats but I fear I have “twice a years” in my home for many years to come.  They’ve missed the spinning red light of the Munchkins – the day to day struggles and rewards that faith both supports and defines.  My two newbies are interested in who the wizard is when it’s a question that will never be answered or solved.  I’m hoping that in time they will look outward to see the winding and stopping red light that they’ll happily chase but never catch.

After a few stares and bites, they clean themselves as though boredom has filled them.  “What’s next?” I suppose they say to themselves.  My previous two cats gleefully chased the circular red light as though it was life itself, because to them, it was.  They didn’t concern themselves with the unknowable origin – it was the elusive light that caught them.  That’s life.  That’s Munchkin life.

Searching for the wizard is useless unless you live among, within and circle the Munchkins.  Living within their circle, you will find and admire the wizard.

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“I Think It’s Important”

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

shoppingI’ve had a small rock on top of my bedroom bureau for years.  When I move, I pack the rock and again place it on top.  It’s to remind me of…  I’ve forgotten the “where or when” of the rock but to toss it out would be to forget what I can’t remember.

It looks like it was pulled from the east or west U.S. ocean.  Was it kept to remind me of something wonderful or to not do something again?  (Why would someone save something to be reminded not to repeat?)  The rock quietly rests there, collecting dust.  I rarely look at it but when I do I think to myself, “Oh, that must be important.”  When I move again, I’m sure I’ll take the small rock with me.  Easy to pack but not easy to remember.

Recalling an actor’s name may take days for my recall – I use the alphabet method.  I may be trying to remember something else and the puzzling actor’s name silently slips back into my memory.  “Oh, of course,” I say to myself.

Is it age?  Too easy.  Is it a growing disease?  Insurance help, I hope.  Is it too many names and information accumulated but never assimilated?  I choose the latter.  It’s safer and without medications or new housing.

It’s happening to me more and more.  It’ll be a song on the radio and I know I know the lead singer’s name but don’t know the lead singer’s name while driving  and wondering if the person behind me wants me to run that yellow or red light in front of me.

Luckily, the person behind me follows my lead and stops at the red light when I remember that it’s David Gates, the lead singer from “Bread” and their biggest hit, “I Want To Make It with You.”  I sigh with relief that I was not only saved from being killed but my memory kicked in when it needed to and one more memory query was resolved.

But I still wonder why that small rock is on my bureau.  Must be something important or why else would I have kept it?

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Easter Sunday: “Trial Separation?”

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

Easter-clipartIt’s called a “trial separation.”  Kinda of a weird name for a marriage that’s about to break up, isn’t it?  Because you see if the “trial” of this temporary arrangement doesn’t work out, then you’re back to your failing marriage that caused the “trial separation” in the first place.  Kinda weird, isn’t it?  And who sets the timeline for this “trial?”  Husband, wife?  One month, six months?  Hospice gives you six months, so why not lawyers?

But, if the supposed “trial” does work out, then you’ve achieved success?  The two of you get a divorce and are now totally separated from each other.

We’ve had our experiences with “trial separations.”  We don’t hear God in our lives (or we’re just not listening) so we go our own merry way.  We separate.  “Trial,” of course.  We think it’s permanent until things fall apart and then we admit that the “trial” part didn’t work out the way you hoped it would.  So we get back together again, God and you, in this marital struggle like him and her except this time it’s between God and you.

We had our “trial separation” this weekend.  We got to kill him on Good Friday and suddenly this morning we find his empty grave.  We were positive that our divorce papers from God were final this weekend.  We signed the papers, wrong attorney?  What’s with this?

The problem is that we can kill Jesus but we can’t kill God.  (Remember the “three persons in One God” part of catechism?  The “Christ” is raised from the dead, Jesus lives now as Christ because we cannot kill God regardless of our so called petty little “trial separations.”

It’s called a covenant, folks.  It’s a binding covenant between God and us and was initiated by God, instituted by God, implemented by God and injected into us by our baptism.

Wow.  Four “I” words in one sentence that ignores our cute, little “trial separation.”  Initiated, Instituted, Implemented and Injected.  Sounds pretty solid to me.

Because you see all of our stupid failings and sins are the stuff of “Good Friday.”  That dark day when the nails hit and temple curtain was torn.  It was dark by three in the afternoon.  Climate change?  I don’t think so.

It is because of the covenant of God.  Unbreakable; sometimes unbearable and unpredictable but always un-eraseable.  Wow, four “U” words in one sentence to describe God.  Unbreakable, Unbearable, Unpredictable and Un-eraseable.   The last “U” word is a made up word but God can do that; after all, He’s God.

The prophet Jeremiah told us about this covenant hundreds of years before Jesus came along.  He told us that God’s covenant isn’t taught to us.  It doesn’t come to us from our parents or teachers, it’s not a quiz with multiple choice or true/false.  It’s not a tweeter tweet from the pope.  God’s covenant is written within our hearts.  Remember the last “I?”  Injected.

Whenever and where ever we do a “Good Friday” silly, stupid sin, God is always there with His Easter Sunday promise.  Whenever and where ever we pull a prankish push toward a “trial separation” with God, God is always there with His Easter Sunday promise.

“Good Friday” is for amateurs, guys thinking they can pull off a “trial,” holding out for a divorce from the Divine.  Good luck.  F. Lee Bailey is dead, no attorney will touch your case.  Many have tried and everyone, and I mean everyone has failed.

A “trial separation” from God?  Laughable.  That’s all “Good Friday” talk and that was, what, two days ago?  What’s two days in our culture?  That’s old news.

Today is Easter Sunday and it’s all about hope, promises that are kept and a marital union between God and humanity; it’s a marriage made in heaven.

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A new book by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
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