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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“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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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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