“Pray for me”

Posted on November 30, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

Prayer-for-Me_web“Pray for me” people say to me.  Some stop me deliberately, others will close their conversation with that petition.  “Pray for me.”  I know what it means but I’ve never understood what it entails?

Do I get to go home early and kneel for awhile while reciting remembered prayers?  Or is this like a nine-day thing that I need to keep track off, like putting an “x” on my monthly calendar?  Do I need to know details to make the prayer effective; like is the prayed-for a victim or merely a victim of him/herself?  And again, how long need I pray?  Never have I been told to “stop praying, everything’s alright now” or “thanks for the prayers but they’re not needed any longer.”  So this is my endless prayers for often an unknown person with little or no details.

This has nothing to do with the priesthood, we are all asked to remember someone in our prayers without a closing date.  What if it’s someone you know with a debilitating condition and then you see her jogging.  Do you then stop your prayers or were your prayers answered and she forgot to email you?  Is this a miracle that you are now a part of?

“Pray for me” is religious code for “please, remember me” for whatever reason.  Or how about, “please, don’t forget me” and my friend or son or daughter that’s having a difficult time right now.

With all the turmoil in the world with nameless deaths, troubled countries that we couldn’t find on a map with a gun to our heads, terrorists with religious intentions but no groundings and troubles found in our daily newspapers. We bow our heads so often it should count for exercise and calorie loss.

If “community” means anything then it means that simple three word request.  Community is always built one person at a time whether we know the person or not.  Prayer is our one bond to all the people of the world.

I’m at home in the evening and I’m remembering and praying for “that woman in the white coat with died hair who asked me to remember her son in the Army.”  Am I doing my job?  So I say, “Please remember God, mom and son.”

What does our “Pray for me” look like?  Do we tell God what to do as in “cure,” “remission,” “new career,” “better husband,” “long awaited raise,” “St. Joseph buried somehow to sell the house,” “getting into Yale,” “better credit rating,” “heaven for your dead cat,” “Green Bay Packers recover,” “peaceful death.”  You and I know it can be a longer list for all those things in our needs, wants or desires.

We know we can’t tell God anything but our response to that simple three word question is matched by three simple words, “God bless you.”

“God bless you” in your struggle with whatever it may be.  “God bless you” with all the virtues instilled in you since birth to see you through whatever.  “God bless you” in your waiting and wanting and not knowing the outcome.  “God bless you” to know that I am with you and your troubles in the name of God.  We should never forget that God unites and we are the single folks trying our best to unite.  “God bless you” may not be the answer but it truly is a great beginning – and the best we can do.  (Oh, and it is also covers sneezes.)

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Advent & Lent

Posted on November 27, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

4424261954_a446500446_bThe two most important Church seasons, both preparing us for two important events in Church history – the birth of Jesus and his resurrection.

You don’t just stumble into glorious events in life.  There’s a preparation period or a period of time that brought you to those events.  Your boss just doesn’t approach you and say, “I’m giving you a 10% raise today.”  That raise would be based on your work, hence preparation.  The odd part of Church teaching is that we cannot work for or toward it.  Birth and Resurrection are unsolicited gifts from God but during our earthly journey we are able to prepare for each and perhaps even act a bit surprised when both these gifts arrive in our souls.

Advent?  It’s purely for kids.  All the unknowns and mysteries of life are presented to us in four weeks.  There’s twists and turns that would turn a Republican’s eye in its revealing  and unfolding beauty.  There’s opposing animals sleeping together and there’s plenty of talk about hope, community and reaching far beyond our today’s concerns.  Just like children, Advent plunges into our imaginations and shows us to forget about what “is” and immerse ourselves into “what if?”  Advent can only look forward and Lent always looks back.

Lent?  Now it’s adult’s time (and we needed to add two extra weeks!) to see the failures that Advent invited, launched and held out to us as “at least possible.”  Lent looks back at those bad decisions, those selfish choices, the times when ignoring the many benefited the few (which is reduced to “what’s in it for me?”).  Advent holds hope in her hands and Lent reconciles his failures to be hope and choosing instead to watch out only for himself.

The weird part is that the Church continues that pagan tradition of honoring time this exact way.  Who among us would place hope (Advent) at the beginning of winter and reconciliation (Lent) at spring’s beginning?  Who are these people?

In our wise wisdom, you and I would put Advent in the spring of new beginnings and the sad season of Lent at winter’s beginning.  Foolish us, we wise people.

Those who are in need, sorrowing, mournful and struggling (like a cold winter) need Advent here and now; and how can you appreciate spring’s hope while carrying around all that old, hurtful baggage.  No, the Church continues the right way of the pagans and keeps our feelings in tune with the seasons in their proper, pagan order.

Yes, Advent is for kids.  So, put on your pj’s, get your ice cream and look up at the moon and wonder how we can bring that reflective moon that is Jesus Christ to our everyday lives.  Open your eyes as wide as a 10 year-old would because this is Advent when anything and everything is possible when done in God’s name.  We have plenty of time before spring when Lent calls us for an accounting of our Advent.

Wouldn’t we be truly God’s servants if our Advents led to quiet and peaceful Lents?  Now find those pj’s.

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Coffee & The Church

Posted on November 26, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

nescafe-tasters-choice-coffee-sticks-42ct-2Just try ordering a cup of coffee these days and hear what happens.  It’s not easy.

Decaf or regular, black, ground, roasted or blended, whole, two-percent, skim, soy, and in some places, organic milk. gluten free, sugar or not?   Cappuccino, mocha, latte or eight other names I can’t pronounce.  Small, medium or large?  If you’re experienced you’d just say, “I would like a vanilla latte made with skim milk, two shots of espresso, with whip cream on it. Oh and I’d like that in a tall size.”

Religion has finally been reduced itself to a cup of coffee.  The varieties, times of services, the music served, the sermon heard, the kind of folks surrounding you, the “how much push for money,” the educational needs of your kids for you to be in “this church” all add up to a cup of anxiety-driven caffeine.

These are the days when choices abound when it comes to beliefs and values.  Some give up their parent’s church simply because of that. Beliefs and values.  Others may stay in that church simply because, well, of that.  The Biblical Joshua addresses all the people: “If it does not please you to serve the Lord, decide today whom you will serve, the gods your fathers served beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are now dwelling.”

If you are challenging yourself and questioning what is important to you then I applaud and will walk with you the whole way.  If it’s simply convenience and comfort for you than enjoy your coffee cup and the church of your choice.

U.S. Bishops often use the term “individualistic.”  I’m not sure of the context unless it means being selfish, otherwise I don’t get it.  To be an “individual” is the goal of every human life.  If you’re 40 years old and in a Catholic Church because mom taught you that, then there’s plenty of fire exits.  (Please find the nearest for your safety and the safety of those surrounding you.)  The sacrament of Confirmation is still given way too early (8th grade or high school junior) while mom’s words are still clearly heard because she’s planning a backyard party to throw for you and the relatives afterwards.  It is not the faith of the family that is transmitted but the family’s faith.  And that needs to be owned by each person in her or his own way and time.

All churches have a kernel of truth within them if they stand the test of time.  I don’t know any pagans but I’ve grown to appreciate pagans who were (and are) not who we define them to be.  Their connection with the earth and something beyond is the forerunner of every decent church that exists.

Typing away, I’m presently sitting on my porch with my laptop and the rain is falling.  Yet I’m wondering what a supposed “pagan” would be doing about now.  Most likely kneeling in thanksgiving for the gods sending this needed rain?  Knowing that gods exist because there is rain?  Grateful to be in shelter during rains like this?  I don’t know what that means because I’m a Catholic and live in a pretty safe home.  The Catholic Church has borrowed every pagan gesture and action available and simply added “Jesus” to it and that makes it now true and right.  The Lutherans have much to share even if they say they are the “one true church” which Catholics already have copyrighted.

Jesus says, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted to him by my Father.”  As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.  Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?”  Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?   You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

I love people who tell me that they’re confused, unsure or doubting about their faith.  It is never that I will solve their confusion but I encourage it.  Be confused.  Doubt is a gift from the gods.  Unsure means that you’re a thinking individual (there’s that word again) and questioning this or that to help you decide the “this’s or that’s” in your life.  Be a wondering person.  Wonder away and never settle down.  Wonder until you see the white light and then wonder no more.  The rain helps the earth whether it comes to us from the “One True God” or the “gods.”  The Jews wisely taught us that all questions only lead to other questions and then other questions until you settle with what they’re looking for but still not be absolutely sure.

I don’t want to stand and preach to a bunch of Catholics who bought Catholicism “hook, line and sinker.”  I want to stand in front of a bunch of  folks who’ll wrestle with me about the mysteries within this life and then enjoying a strong cup of coffee.”

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Advent: The Cow

Posted on November 26, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

imagesWhat better way to begin this sacred season of Advent except with the beginning.  A cow.  It is the first of our Nativity characters to be seen because the cow’s has always been here.  This is her home.  This is the place where births take place and newborns are fed with life’s sustaining liquid: milk.

It is the “milk of human kindness,” Shakespeare tells us about mercy and compassion that Advent is.

“Don’t cry over spilled milk,” is honoring the mistakes we’ve made and will continue to make but we learn and move forward.  That’s Advent.

“Milk it for all it is worth,” is the perpetual capacity for the fullness of life that is with us, no matter our age, until our last breath.  That’s Advent.

“Land of milk and honey,” is always our promise for the land in which we live, even when it does not happen or remain – it is our hope and God’s promise.  That’s Advent.

Woody Allen’s said, “I’m thankful for laughter except when milk comes out of my nose.”  Rejoice, rejoice and then rejoice once again.  That’s Advent.

Each Nativity character plays a role in the Christian beginning of our salvation history.  We cannot have life without birth and there is no life after birth except the nourishment coming from the most ordinary of animals, producing the most extraordinary creation of God: us.  That’s Advent.

Welcome Advent’s first of several characters – eating food from Mother Earth, providing meat for hungry travelers, and with “udder” (couldn’t resist) rejoicing milk from mother’s breast.

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Backward Hope

Posted on November 25, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

lot3bHope is about an unknown future and hopefully our hope is that “this” will not end up the “that” that we dare not to speak.

Even the dictionary gets it wrong with “expectations” and “certain things to happen” as though the second greatest virtue is limited to our future and not our past.  “Faith” and “Charity,” please set aside as we show  ourselves that the power of “Hope” can heal the backwards of our lives.

There’s a quaint, quiet town outside busy, metropolitan Milwaukee that illustrates “hope” as defined by the dictionary.  Driving through it, it reminds me of a movie set – when you walk behind the store fronts you see the boards propping them up.  It seems as shallow as dismissing my past as forever gone and not to be bothered with any longer because there are “certain things to happen.”  (Where’s Miss Mary Sunshine when you need her?)

When we seek closure or some kind of healing that can never be granted because the past is gone, we easily use the word “wish.”  “I wish that that memory could fade away from me,” or “I wish healing about that incident or episode that I regret.”  We can’t hope for it because of hope’s limitations.

Can’t the second of the greatest virtues be broadened without blowing itself up?  Can’t the power of hope in all its full maturity offer a healing or a softening to that “thing” of the past?  “Wishing” works well in fairy tales but “hope” is very effective in healing what cannot be healed in order to get on with our lives.

Those mistakes of the past, whatever they may be, have a cute way of haunting and persisting in our minds and behaviors.  Looking blindly toward an unknown future, like my quaint town, feebly attempts to bypass our pasts as though they never existed.

Try this example.  If you dent your left driver’s bumper then guess where your next accident will occur.  (No one seems to guess it correctly.)  Your next accident will be your left driver’s bumper.

The longer we live the more background we have.  Each of our “store fronts” may look clean and neat to those who drive by us but unless we hope our ways toward our backs then we are simply a scene set on a studio lot in a cheap make- believe-movie.

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“Thanksgiving”

Posted on November 24, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

imagesIt’s the one and maybe only day of the year when the “Big Guy” is brought out for all the good and happiness in our lives.  Personally, I’m grateful to God for being born white, birthed by strong parents, living in a simple city, smart, educated and successful beyond my dreams.

I jest of course because God had nothing to do with any of those things.  But we yearly attribute to God all the good and of all the bad we asked God to take it away, as though God authorized both to flying angels with their traveling instructions.  (Cue the Wicked Witch and her flying monkeys.)

The rest of our year is spent taking the good for granted and hoping the bad is minimal or nothing at all.  Looking back, however, did not the difficult or “bad” episodes bring us closer to ourselves, family, dependence and then perhaps leaning on God’s assistance?

What kind of assistance can God provide since he really didn’t really send angels down upon us?  It’s always been simple but we seem to complicate the simple whenever we get the chance.  It’s the virtues that begin and end with God and slowly simmer in our lives, especially during trying times until they burn themselves into us.

They are the gifts of the Holy Spirit – wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord (wonder).  The internet calls it “wonder” but a little fear won’t kill you.  God’s provided us with these seven enduring gifts, a delicious Turkey dinner and even a wishbone for our fanciful fantasy about who God is and who we are in relation to God.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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The Magic of Working

Posted on November 23, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

jack_and_the_beanstalk,_magic_beansWork is that fixed time between sleep and when we’re free to do what we want.  We need the work to provide for those latter times.  It’s a job.  Or so we think.  A friend of mine says, “I’m going to ‘The Job'” as though that’s the name of the place.

All work is magical because it turns something into something else.  How many people can fix a broken leg, leaky faucet, wrinkled shirt, painful back, internet service and every other job we rely upon others?

Work is never about money but is it not magical to transform something that was one way and make it another way?  Just think of “Jack and the Beanstalk” and the laughter from his family when he proudly showed them three beans.  Three silly beans in exchange for the family’s cow.  Those beans soon become a tall, sturdy vine that reached the heavens in search of more magical items, i.e. the goose and the harp.

Think of the fifth grade teacher who stands before 15-20 flubbering, fidgety brains in the hopes of transmitting one ounce of biology, English or critical thinking into anxious growing minds.  And somehow, doesn’t it work again and again?  If that isn’t magical then what is?

We see towering buildings being built and take for granted that someone knew what he/she is doing.  We drive on their highways hoping that their calculations and measurements were, at least, kinda close.  We’re stopped by law-keepers wishing they missed our traffic mistake and instead want to wish us a happy day.  Nice try on our part but also transforming.

A nurse smiles and squeezes the patient’s shoulder and leaves the room filling that room with hours of contentment.

We take it for granted.  “We’re just doing our job,” we say and then return home to rest, recreate and repeat “The Job” again tomorrow.  Work works for us until we retire.  Some count those retiring days until they need to do magic no more.  Sorry for them when magic continues in retirement.

The transforming ways of magic never ends, even in retirement.  I do my magic often as Masses, (I mean mystery.)  Three times in on a Sunday is a stretch for me because I believe it was the first one that was magical (I mean mystery), the other two are coloring on the cake for the sake of the congregation.  (If you folks need to attend only one Mass to participate in the magic, (I mean mystery,) then why not me?)

Work sounds so like so much effort, routine; hence boredom.  The word magic has the unknown affixed to it (just try fixing your own toilet!  I tried and was glad 24-hour service was available but make sure you have enough cash on hand!).  It’s a feat which only magicians (I mean plumbers) can achieve.

In movies we see people whose job is to move money around.  The secondary, redeeming character always says to them, “But you don’t produce anything!”

Each of us produces so much.  So much more than we can measure.  It’s the magic of work because work is never about working but it’s about working the magic.

Keeping collecting those “three beans.”  They’re magical.

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“Camino de Santiago Hike”

Posted on November 22, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
santiago-640x350

San Camino Pilgrimage

A St. Sebastian (Milwaukee, Wisconsin) parishioner completed the “Camino de Santiago hike,” some 482 miles, in Spain.  It’s considered a spiritual pilgrimage.  Thirty-two days of walking, walking and more walking.  He shared some of his experiences on Facebook and I share some of them with you today.

What better image for our life’s journey and our faith journey than by walking, walking and more walking.

“The Basque have a saying, ‘Today it is you, tomorrow it is me’ meaning that you may need my help today but tomorrow I may need your help – so always prepare yourself to help somebody who may need help.  I started my walk yesterday, it is part of my quest to find answers to life’s persistent questions.  I arrived at the hostel to a wonderful meal which included nine other pilgrims from Italy, Ireland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Switzerland, Canada and Florida.  A very delightful and interesting group.  I’m meeting kind, interesting people.  The countryside is beautiful and I’m walking through charming medieval towns and villages. It’s a wonderful experience but my feet hurt a lot.

Sleeping in dormitories every night is an interesting experience.  We soon become aware of our shared humanity, i.e. everybody starts smelling the same.  I woke up this morning and a Spanish guy, about my age, was in the bed across the aisle from me.  He comes over to me and says in very broken English, ‘you snore.  You snore very loud.  I didn’t sleep a bit.  You should see a doctor.’  I was so embarrassed but I guess this is also a part of my journey of self-discovery.

“146 miles down and 336 miles to go.  We walked 14 miles today and it was a very pleasant day for walking.  I somewhere read that the Camino is like life – the first third is physical, the second third is mental and the last third is spiritual.”

I should stop right here and sit down.  The first part of our lives is physical – we’re exhausted watching our children and their unbridled energy.  The second part of our lives is mental – getting educated, finding a job, spouse, producing something of value for our society.  The third part of our lives is spiritual – what it is (or what it was).  The meaning and purpose of my life, did I make a difference here, what does the Creator think of His creation: me?

“The physical aches and pains are diminishing, the blisters are healing and the novelty of this experience is starting to wear off.”  (Ain’t that the truth sometimes about life, the “novelty of this experience is starting to wear off!”)  “I am now walking through a countryside that is beautiful but also somewhat monotonous.  I’m walking mostly by myself today and it gave me a lot of time to think and reflect.  I generally go a local cafe which offers a ‘pilgrim’s menu,’ three course meal for 10 Euros” (or about $10.77.)

Many people on the Camino are ‘in between’ different phases of their lives (like me.)  I’ve gotten to know a young man only 17 years old – who lost both his parent during the past year.  He said that his mother drank a lot and he doesn’t really know what his died from.  He’s been in a lot of trouble and has spent time in juvenile detention facilities but now he is committed to turning his life around ‘for his mother’ and he thought walking the Camino was a good way to start.  The stories and the people I meet are remarkable.  I’m really enjoying this experience but my feet really hurt a lot today.

17 miles today, the longest walk we’ve done since we started.  At times my feet were just throbbing, screaming for relief.  But there is no relief, you just have to keep walking.  A walker changed my nickname from ‘the guy from Wisconsin’ to ‘the guy with the silver feet’ because I’ve used duct tape to mend my wounded heels.  Walking alone is a metaphor for life.  We all really walk alone thorough life.  But at the same time we’re also carried forward by the momentum of the other walkers.  There were times today when I would have quit but I felt being pulled forward by the other walkers and so I kept walking.  I walked for a short time with a young Christian.  That guy’s suffered a lot of losses in his young life.  He’s probably going to spend a lot of his early adult years trying to mend the various holes in his heart.  But he seems like a pretty intelligent and sensible kid and he’s willing to talk about his experiences.

Oh no!  I just saw the Spanish guy who complained about my snoring.  He’s staying at the same hostel as me.  What am I going to do?  My feet hurt.

Day 10, it’s hard to believe that my adventure is already almost 1/3 over.  It was a perfect day for walking, not a cloud in the sky and it was pleasantly cool after the sun came up.  I walked for a while with an older guy named Tommy from Ireland.  I didn’t have too much to say but he sure did.  You know how those Irish can be.  He quit his job and is now walking the Camino to figure out what he wants to do next.  He thought the Camino wold be a physical challenge, and it is, but he soon discovered that he was getting so much more out of it.

It got me thinking.  We are all struggling and striving for something but often we don’t know what it is.  Poor people have to strive and struggle to survive.  Refugees from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq.  But a lot of us don’t know what it is we are striving for.  Look at me – I’m striving to get to Santiago and I feel a certain compulsion to ‘stay on schedule.’  I have to remind myself that the point of this adventure is not the destination but the journey.  Perhaps there is something intrinsic in being a human being that compels us to search, explore and reach beyond ourselves.  Perhaps this is how we collectively co-create the future.  I hope that one outcome of this Camino is that I will be deliberate and intentional about the future that I want to create.  It’s a wonderful experience but my feet hurt a lot.

Day 14 it rained all day but no problem, you just keep walking.  We ended up walking 19 miles to a one closed hostel town so I had to trudge on for another three miles to get to this town.  This will be a short post this evening.  I’m really pooped.  I was glad to see that the Packers beat the Raiders.  Go Pack Go.

I’ve encountered so many interesting people on this walk and everyone is so nice.  Maybe if you just get away from the demands of daily life, it is easier to be nice.  Or maybe after a day of walking, a person is too tired to be anything other than nice.

The Camino is a metaphor for life.  Sometimes life sends you blessings – tender mercies – in the form of friends but for the most part you walk alone.”  That should become a Hallmark card!

“While walking today, a walker made the comment that ‘this is not real’ meaning life on the Camino – the simplicity of it all, people being nice to each other and being so close to nature.  And I thought ’no’ it is not real but what would it take to make it more real in my life – to live a life that was less chaotic, closer to nature, more attentive to the people around me?  It is remarkable to note that millions of people have walked this path before me.  I guess the idea of pilgrimage started as way for people, living in the medieval times, to ‘earn points’ with God.  ‘I do this for you, God, and then maybe you’ll do a few favors for me.’  I don’t think it works like that.  I don’t think you can negotiate with God.  but I understand the impulse.  Today toward the end of my walk, I was thinking that I can just push myself to exhaustion, then may I can unload some of the baggage I’ve been carrying around – my regrets, my anxieties, my worries, my insecurities.  Let’s see if we can make a miracle happen.

Day 20 and we covered 15.9 miles but most of the walk was downhill.  Let me tell you – walking downhill is a lot harder than walking up hill.  It was steep with lots of rocks.  We climbed almost a mile and then descended for about two miles.  Plus, I developed a new blister on my big toe, and then of course there were these annoying young people who pass you on the trail walking effortlessly.  We’ve also had our first meet with bed bugs.  Two friends were afflicted. While I feel sorry for them, I hope that is the closest those little buggers get to me.  That’s all for today – I’m exhausted, my legs are killing me.  I’m going to bed but only after having two more glasses of wine.

Here’s my big insight for the day – nothing is urgent.  When I’m at home, I felt it was really important to stay on top of current events but you know it really doesn’t matter.  Sometimes our tendency to keep up with the minutiae of daily life is really a means for us to avoid being alone with ourselves or being present to others.  I’ve been totally oblivious of news in Milwaukee, the states and even internationally.  Despite that, the world is rolling along just fine without my personal attention.  Someone, please let me know if I’m mistaken on that observation.”  Absolutely not, you are not mistaken.

“Today is my 18th wedding anniversary.  To my wife, I hope that your life with me was everything that you hoped it would be.  But wait!  There’s more to come.

I met a guy from Poland today who told me I look just like Steven Spielberg and that he really likes my movies.  I told him not to tell anyone that he saw me.  I’m trying to keep a low profile.

You tend to notice things more when you spend a lot of time walking alone.  The crunch, crunch, crunch of your feet walking on mostly gravel footpaths.  The tap, tap, tap of my walking sticks in sync with my walking; in the evenings the babble of many languages or you could call it the ‘sounds of humanity’; in the mornings the coughing, yawning, burping, farting, zipping and unzipping.  I guess these too are the ‘sounds of humanity.’  Then there’s the accordion player in the plaza, church bells ringing, cow bells from cattle, sheep or goats, babbling brooks, the morning rooster, birds singing and the sounds of raindrops bouncing off my raincoat.

Day 32 and I return home, somewhat reluctantly.  I’m really glad that I did this trip.  I hope that I can apply some of the lessons learned to my life back home.  One change that I want to make is to do things more slowly and deliberately.  The efficient way is not always the best way.  Walking, biking is good for the soul and also good for other reasons.  I have a few other ideas of things I want to change… but those will require some negotiation with my wife.”

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“President Kennedy died today at 1:00 p.m., Central Standard Time.”

Posted on November 21, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

kennedy-motorcadeAs irony would have it the soap opera, “As The World Turns” was interrupted with Walter Cronkite’s famous announcement on television in 1963.  As the world does turn, it truly stood still for quite some time with Kennedy’s death 52 years ago tomorrow.

My older sister and I often mused that no one has an opinion if not around that day.  As aging people, we set our tragic mark using that time as a background for future conversations about world events.  I guess those around on 9/11 have their tragic mark and I also guess that tragic events can mark most of us.  So, let the opinions roll.

I didn’t know anyone who died September 11 but have heard many New Yorkers talk about it as raw now as it was then.  You think you should forget yet you do not want to forget.  Parents who lose a twelve year old to an incurable disease experience a personal tragedy that will color (or discolor) the rest of their lives.

To a sixth grader, hearing the president was killed had an impact but was only impacted by the reactions of surrounding adults.  After lunch we had finished our daily rosary and beginning the afternoon when the sister-principal announced what Walter had just said.  Our sixth grade nun made us kneel down for another round of the rosary decades.  Watching a documentary of those fateful days, Kennedy was first in Fort Worth and then off to Dallas to regain support for his reelection.  Leaving the Fort Worth airport, he snidely said, “I thought I’d be killed here” instead of one hour later in Dallas.

With numbing terrorism in places most of us have never been, we try to make sense of what our fives senses cannot make sense of.  From Paris to the Congo, we still feel safe yet wonder if this ingenious way of warring will eat away our humanity and its virtues of goodwill and hope.  Our “sixth” sense seems to be reason which leaves us with very little, if anything.  Kennedy’s drama is still sixth-less 52 years later and we can easily reason a Muslim’s poor theology is the culprit for growing terrorism.  Muslim religion came up at lunch the other day and a friend said that “they get a planet when they die.”  I calmly said, “that’s the Mormons and it’s questionable they really believe that.”

Very few of us are players on this world stage.  We do our simple things everyday with our simple children in our simple towns with simple values that we wish will endure.  We look to our respective beliefs, our hopes and dreams for our children and we pray that they can handle tragedies the same as we’ve tried, if not better.  The tragedies are the benchmarks and the silent stoppers that empower us to keep praying and keep hoping, not for an elusive reason but a constant resolve that we can do better.

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“Communion”

Posted on November 19, 2015 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

receiving host celiac linkWe couldn’t chew it, it just laid on our tongue until melted or placed comfortably on our mouth’s roof.  We couldn’t touch it, only the man in the dress could do that.  When he gave it to us a gold plate usually hit our throats by a nervous eight year old (also in a dress).  To prepare for getting it, it was a 24 hour fast permitting only water and that was later watered down to one hour.  Kneeling was the method before receiving it with hands folded.

Before my time, a cloth was placed over everyone’s hands while kneeling just in case the nervous eight year old missed the host if it were to fall on the ground.  If not completely handed out, it is kept in an gold container placed prominently behind the altar where the guy with the dress stands.  A constant light is kept on this gold container.  Those involved in the service must acknowledge the gold container every, single time they pass it.  A slight bow does this trick.  It can be brought to the sick and informed in hospitals or nursing homes.  Years have passed since the guy in his dress with two nervous eight year olds with lighted candles performed this distribution.

Now days it’s a friendly volunteer that brings it to those wishing it during a fragile time in their lives.  Centuries ago it was customary to bring it home with you and apply it to whatever aliment may occur, a scraped knee or perhaps early balding.  Oh, I almost forgot, you need to be a member of the Club, I mean this Church, before receiving it.

These days the receiving of it is done in a procession of folks that leads to getting it with their hands now extended.  They are now able to both touch and chew it.  Three popes ago thought this to be too casual for such a sacred ritual that folk’s heads were told to be bowed before touching it.  In a busy procession this has only resulted in bowed heads before the guy in the dress. (Which I predicted would happen, by the way.)  If someone is in the state of sin (it’s a state between Alabama and Mississippi) then in the procession arms are crossed over one’s chest and a blessing (from the guy in the dress) is provided but no touching or chewing or mouth’s roof for that someone.  Bishops from all over the world have met for two weeks for two years to decided if folks married outside the sacrament of marriage can still get it.  “Three popes later” hasn’t made up his mind yet.

It can have many names but “Body of Christ” is the declaration the guy in the dress says before giving it to you.  “Amen” is the expected response but my favorite response that I heard was “I know.”  The “Body of Christ” is also used to tell us that we are all the “Body of Christ.”  If only we treated each other with the same reverence as we do the lighted gold container which contains the lives of us all.

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