“The Green Screen”

thMost of you have probably heard of the “green screen” that’s used in movies as a background for whatever and where ever the director wishes it to be.  De Niro is not in Dublin solving a series of murders but safely in front of a “green screen” that shows whatever city he enters.  Even walking down the streets of Algiers is nothing more that walking down a carefully selected path in a safe sound studio with a turkey sandwich waiting for you in your trailer when you’re done.

Just look at a character’s shoulders and you can see how clean and neat it appears yet slightly not in union with the background.  Welcome to money saving location shots.  Fake?  yes.  Realistic?  You bet, these guys have perfected the art of imperfection.  Fooled?  Not if you’re drawn into the story and don’t even notice that Pacino is not inside a bank.  Acting?  I imagine that this is more acting than actually being in Algiers which would help your character development.  Standing in front of a green screen with a fan blowing demands some kind of acting, doesn’t it?

I’ve been ordained a priest less than a day and my first Mass is in the parish’s convent next door to the rectory.  My real official “First Mass” isn’t for another two months but the resident priests didn’t feel like having Mass for the nuns less than my 24 hour dripping wet ordination.  So, I carefully follow the book to honor my first “out there” experience to a group of nuns who do this everyday.  The consecration prayers come up and I expect a little Algiers-action or at least some smoke behind me.  Nothing happened.  The nuns are silent with heads bowed and I’m speaking the words of Jesus.  (I had longer hair then and a little fan to my left might have helped those powerful words be delivered.)

The Mass ended, the nuns were content with their daily ritual and it’s 8:30 a.m. in the morning and there’s no turkey sandwich waiting for me in my trailer with my name on the door (along with a star!) and the director telling me that the first take was the best.  It was just another Mass for another group that expected another Mass for a new day.

After 34 years I’d still like the “green screen” to accentuate this ordinary daily Mass experience.  Alas, I only have the same old crowd, doing the same daily ritual and calling upon the extraordinary power of God to be the “green screen” I don’t have behind me.

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Christianity’s “Hub”

World_Logistics_Hub__Manchester_Airport_City__2_Airlines ingeniously came up with one place for a convergence of multiple airplanes and then send them forth to their respective destinations.  Travelers don’t care for it much but it enabled airlines to reduce direct routes and then redirect to the traveler’s final destination.

Now.  Replace “airlines” with “Christian religions” and you have the beginning of something big.  Most Christian churches honor a week of “Christian Unity,” the last week of January each year.  (Catholics believe that this week of prayer will make everyone Catholic as I’m sure the Lutherans do.)  But that’s not the point.  The point is the convergence.  You’ll love the biological definition of convergence, “the tendency of unrelated animals and plants to evolve superficially similar characteristics under similar environmental conditions.”  (We’re the animals, by the way, and the plants is what’s been cemented in our religiously rigid minds since the beginning of religion.)

I’ve grown to love the Atlanta hub.  It’s always hubbing with hordes of folks departing one plane and hurrying to find the next only to end up bored with the endless waiting for their next flight.  I love absorbing the hurried hustle and short swings to avoid the cart carrying the older adult and I’m wondering how I can get a cart like that.

And I love C18 which is one of the few places to smoke between flights.  You don’t even need to light your own, just walk inside and inhale.  In this room of folks waiting for this moment for the past hour or two hours or even four hours captures the Christian spirit.  (Catholics and Episcopalians  would call it incense, but that’s just us.)  It’s uncomfortable at first because she may think I’m about to steal her purse (I guess I have that look).  Slowly, a common thing is discussed and the door is now open.  “What about this Virgin forever stuff,” may be a question.”  I’d come back with, “What about this ‘justification by faith alone’ that you guys hold on to so tightly?”  She’d replied, “So everything the pope says is infallible?” followed by my “We don’t kneel as often as you may think, especially when you get older.”

That’s the biological “superficial” stuff but it’s the “characteristics” and “environmental conditions” that lead us to a deeper conversation.  I’d tell her that if I were born Lutheran, I’d be a good Lutheran today and she suspiciously looks at me as though I’m mocking her.  “Wouldn’t you be a good Catholic today if your parents were…”  She doesn’t answer but I know her answer.

Many “mixed religions” as they’re called in marriage sometimes ends up with, “Well, he gave in because it was too tough going to two churches.”  Hardly a conversion moment to share on Oprah but environmentally speaking a good one.

She and I finish our cigarettes and notice the time of our respective departures.  She smiles at me and thanks me but I thank her at the same time.

She gets on her Lutheran plane to some Lutheran place and I hop on my Catholic plane.  We converged, for a brief moment.  She may think of our conversation on her Lutheran plane because I’m confident that I’ll recall our short talk on my “one true faith” plane.

Did we merge?  No, that’s not the point.  We converged.  “Characteristics” and “environmental conditions” prohibited us from merging.  But that’s what a hub is for.  Perhaps the next time we could talk about those characteristics and environmental barriers while sharing a hub moment in Atlanta’s C18.

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Hope: Virtue of Verb?

hopeMy dad always told us young kids that there should always be something waiting for you.  His words were more like, “If you have it now, then what?”  So each of the five of us needed to wait for “my” bike or an extended curfew.  If you have everything you’ve always waited then perhaps you have a lot of stuff to dust each week.

An aphorism says that if your dreams are more than your achievements then being young will always be yours.  I wouldn’t want to be young again but I get the point.  Picture this: five 90 year old women are having a two hour breakfast and talk the whole time.  If I ease drop, which I do from time to time, the topics change quicker than the time it took me to write this sentence.  It begins with the Packers fatal defeat to the evening’s dinner offerings to what happened to the waiter they all liked to “are you going to share that leftover or not?”, to a grandchild’s recent success followed by a sad story of a floundering grandchild and then admiring a necklace that she always wanted to buy but couldn’t find and is now worn by one of the five.

I truly dislike exaggerated phrases that abuse this already abused language.  “Totally unique” is utterly impossible and expecting “110% involvement” from my boss is mathematically  just weird and “awesome” used at any time as an adjective is just dumb and even dumber as a stand-alone noun.  The one I love the most is, “we’re a team” as the director directs us toward the direction she had before she entered the meeting.  “Yeah, right.”

The reason for your reading this far is about hope.  It’s one of my favorite words next to grace.  Both words need to be used cautiously because they are powerful words.  Misusing them only confuses people and diminishes the word’s power.  And, we all know that words have power.  “I love (or hate) you” travels miles in a relationship.  The hope for a Packer victory next season cheapens as does a hope for a mild Wisconsin winter.

“I hope she calls me.”  (That’s called horny.)
“I hope my stock goes up.”  (That’s poor investing, try an Indian casino instead.)
“I hope my lottery number wins.” (That’s called, well you fill in the blank.)

“I hope my son does well in college or that my chemo treatments work.”  That’s hope.  My dad was right.  We all need something to look forward to, anticipate.  That’s the hope that anyone can hope for.

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“Unity? Hardly,” Third Sunday in Catholic Ordinary Time, Mark 1:14-20

“(Jesus) walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John.  They too were in a boat mending their nets.  Then he called them.  So they left their father…”

thEverybody’s right and everybody else is wrong depending on the hotly debated position you hold dearly at the expense of those you hold dearly.   What better way to consider this then through a song.

Uh huh, hmm hmm
Gonna get along without you now
Uh huh, hmm hmm
Gonna get along without you now

I blame cable’s acrimonious news which I can barely watch anymore.  Three people talking at once is not a good way to become informed for someone in his 60’s.  It’s the old adage does television mimic us or vise versa.  I think it’s the latter.  Television legitimates behavior by showing us in HD that’s it’s okay to use the “f” word as either a noun, adjective or verb (all done in one sentence, by the way) to the revolutionary view of a married couple in bed together (aka Bob Newhart).

You told me I was the neatest thing
You even asked me to wear your ring
You ran around with every girl in town
You didn’t even care if it got me down

But that’s beside the point, the origin of this division.  We’ve all had strong views since time’s beginning and that’s a good thing.  What scares me now is that we all seem to be comfortable in our divided sides and smug in our little positions about big issues.  We label each other after one sentence and then freeze that label in place for all further conversations.  “Oh, she’s on that side,” we quickly ascertain in three seconds.

Got along without you before I met you
Gonna get along without you now
Gonna find somebody who is twice as cute
‘Cause you didn’t want me anyhow

Politics, church, personal behavior – the category doesn’t matter, it’s only our behavior toward another person that matters.  I’ll be the first to admit I implement the preceding paragraph quickly and easily which is why it was so easy to write.  I walk away from a dividing topic with a friend surprised at my abruptness and cavalier feeling while also feeling a slight nausea inside like a piece of pizza that haunts you two hours later.  I’m happy for that delayed feeling because that’s the hope in both country and church.  I haven’t experienced an argument being settled in its heat.  We are then caught and need to protect our views and thoughts even when an opposing view slowly makes sense and causes us to nuance our view.  (I believe that’s called “communication.”)

You told everybody that we were friends
But this is where our friendship ends
‘Cause all of a sudden you even changed your tune
You haven’t been around since way last June

So long my honey, goodbye my dear
Gonna get along without you now

The sandbox of life is only so big and we all need to fit in it and play in it well.  Throwing sand at each other is fun when you’re ten but when the sand becomes divisive and absolute words are thrown about then we all need a bit of nausea from time to time.

I still have strong views about our country and church but believe that my nausea is soften by also believing that I’m a little right and I’m a little bit wrong.

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Funeral Sermon for a Mother

mother-inspirational-dailyShe’s the beginning and she is never the end. She starts and then she endures.

She is the wisest of all creatures, carries you where ever she needs to be herself – feeds, clothes and proudly places your distorted drawing of an elephant on the refrigerator door; the “Hall of Fame” in every home.

She’s your mother. No matter her achievements or accomplishments outside the home, whether in a big or small job, her dying thought with be as “mother.” She creates as God creates, she sustains as God sustains, and she is sometimes not at her best, as God has also shown us about Himself.

Bishop Oscar Romero said, “We plant the seeds that one day will grow.  We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.”

What a minute! Are we talking about mother or are we talking about God now? Seeds, planting, future promises, laying foundations and yeast? Isn’t that God’s job? Or is God’s job, mother’s job?

Add an “s” to the “m” in mother and you discover it’s high time you find a place of your own. Take away the “m” and you’re talking about everybody else’s because you only have one mother.

In my young, caustic days as a priest, an elderly woman came into the sacristy and said that she would be my grandmother. I told her that my grandmother died. Not the best thing to say as I think back now but I did not need a second “grand” or “mother.”

The qualities of motherhood are qualities we all wish we owned and practiced. Whether achieved by our individual mothers doesn’t matter; the qualities still stand as important and worth achieving.

Not to bore you with a list of ten (for lists always contain ten items), I give you three qualities – patience, anticipation, and resignation. I did not promise you the easiest of qualities but whatever the other seven are, they follow these three words.

A mother’s patience is envious to me. She knows what needs to be done and yet it may take many minutes or months more before the child gets it. It’s that first step, a referee for bathroom visits whether it’s “number one or two,” the first properly held fork, the kneeling at the right times during Mass and “that” girlfriend” you’re seeing who isn’t right for you. A mother is patient, even if she is wrong. She will patiently wait for you to make her wrong, right even if you were truly right. (Only a son can appreciate that sentence.)

Anticipation is the second and easiest, and resignation, the third, is the hardest. “The world is yours,” she tells you constantly as though oysters grow on trees and her resignation for all the decisions she doesn’t make for you but are uniquely yours whether done in success or error.

For all of us which one is the most difficult for a mom to achieve? If I can guess I’d say “resignation” because of its power to set someone you love free without judgment, evaluation, restriction or consequence. “Patience” is a learned quality that may be achieved or not and “anticipation” is the easiest because it is always an unknown future we can safely imagine. “Resignation” is what our Creator God needed to do for us and what mothers reluctantly give in to us. In the Church, we call it “free will” but in mother’s case she’d say, “I think you’re wrong but what can I say?!”

The Catholic Church calls itself “mother” as though it can replace our birth mothers.  Nature claims “mother” as its adjective as though we need to protect her now as much as she protected us. And we love the phrase “the mother of all inventions” because of the anticipation and hope all mothers have for each of their children.

Bishop Romero also says, “We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it well.” I suspect that being God is a pretty big job. I know that being “mother” is also a pretty big job with lots of successes and failures. But that’s the beauty of any laid foundation – we build upon, revise it, sometimes repeat the same mistakes but we plant, influence and water this great gift of life. And, don’t forget to add plenty of yeast. We do this for ourselves and we provide this to our children and gently coach those around us.

Women have told me they lament that they are not able to have children but I’ve learned that motherly qualities are not restricted to childbearing. Each of us can “give birth” to what the Creator gave the created to create, “patience, anticipation, and resignation.”

But I’m still not sure if I’ve been talking about God or about mothers?

Books by Fr. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. All available on Amazon.com

“Soulful Muse,” inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture
“Living Faith’s Mysteries,” inspirational reflections on the Christian seasons
of Advent/Christmas & Lent/Easter
“Spiritual Wonderings and Wanderings,”
inspirational reflections on the Catholic Church and U.S. culture

Newest books include:
“Letters From My Cats,”
a collection of letters written by my cats over twenty years
“Bowling Through Life’s Stages with a Christian perspective,”
Bowling as a metaphor for religion and growing up

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John 1:35-42, “Second Sunday in Ordinary Catholic Time”

john-bapt-435 The next day John was there again with two of his disciples, 36 and as he watched Jesus walk by, he said, “Behold, the Lamb of God.” 37 The two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus. 38 Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” 39 He said to them, “Come, and you will see.” So they went and saw where he was staying, and they stayed with him that day. It was about four in the afternoon.40 Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, was one of the two who heard John and followed Jesus. 41 He first found his own brother Simon and told him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Christ). 42 Then he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon the son of John; you will be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

John was standing with two of his disciples and as he watched Jesus walk by he said, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” or as we’d say today, “There he is.”  The two disciples heard what John said and followed Jesus.

(John is now minus two disciples.  He needs to buy an ad to replace them and training the new disciples will set him beyond the fiscal year’s budget.)

Jesus turns to his newly stolen-from-John disciples and says, “What are you looking for?”

(They reply, “A strong 401K, with Roth IRA investment and deferred tax benefits while on missionary work, a per diem that includes a rental donkey with AM/FM radio, and a small 4-bedroom loft overlooking the sea of Galilee.)

They said to Jesus, “Rabbi, which translates Teacher, where are you staying?”  Jesus said, “Come, and you shall see.”

(As we all know, Jesus was staying at a manger scene that first block the altar but then was lowered for economic purposes.  He’s now staying with friends because of the “no walking stick or second tunic” line that he mentions later on.)

Andrew was one who abandoned John for Jesus for his better benefits which now includes medical/dental which John promised but never delivered and brings along his brother Peter.  He tells his brother that he’s found the Messiah, which translate into “Christ.”  Why he didn’t say “Christ” in the first place eludes readers of the gospel.  Jesus then looks at Peter, ignoring his newest, first employee Andrew and says “You are Simon the son of John, you will be called Cephas which translates into Peter.

Now let’s see what we have here.

The Baptist loses two committed employees who switch to the their new employer with the promise of advancement which is the same promise that John made to them.  The two new guys then want to know where Jesus lives but also want their own time-share 4-bedroom as well.  They call Jesus “Rabbi” which means teacher, then call him “Messiah” which means Christ, then Simon becomes Cephas for only two seconds before him name is changed to Peter.

___________________
There appears to be lots of promises made in this short gospel passage.  Lots of promises and hopes and dreams.  And, lots of translating when they could have just said, “Teacher,” “Christ” and “Peter” and skip all the translating.

Lots of switching employers during a big economic depression.  Lots of promises, hopes and dream being thrown about.

And all done in the simple statement that could have saved us all this time “translating” with the simplest and most powerful question asked of anyone in life, “What are you looking for?”
And our response to our own question is, “Can Jesus deliver?”  Or has he already.

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“Bucket List?”

bucket-list-picCopycats seems the order of every day even though we hold individualism as a higher priority.  We copy haircuts, musical tastes, tattoos, home furnishings…even murder patterns.  For our supposed uniqueness we are mimic people.  Now it’s the “bucket list,” from a movie that most have not seen but heard about and now it’s time to fill yours before time, well, times out as though life is a race to the end with endless choices.  A web site list 10,000 ideas just in case you need to copycat even more.

“Bucket” would not have been my word and “death wish” is too un-American so “bucket” it is.  I’ve never been one for goals, I’m just happy I wake up the next day and know the day of the week.

A list of things to do before you die is one of the rare times we even consider death in our botoxed-anti-aging- culture.  Those who have told me of some “before death” events would make Walt Disney and Las Vegas very happy except I don’t see how seeing the Grand Canyon can compare to reconnecting with a brother you haven’t seen in years.  Imagine the death bed scene when he says how beautiful the Grand Canyon was as his last words, “It’s big and deep!” as his brother hurries from the airport to be with him.

Instead of emptying your “bucket” with bungee jumping or holding Flipper’s tail how about letting other people fill your “bucket” with surprises and unexpected events.  “I want to see the sun set in southern France,” may cost you over $2,500.00 when your neighborhood sun sets upon neighbors full of stories and family adventures.  I have never heard a dying person share with me what Disneyland meant to her.

We keep emptying what is not there while we can fill up daily with what life surrounds us.  For us Christians, death is not the end.  Our faith believes that Walt built an amusement park in heaven just for those who need to fulfill their delusional “bucket list.”

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“Being There”

ProjectionA 1979 movie featured Peter Sellers as Chauncey Gardiner who does nothing else but reflect the projections of others including Shirley MacLaine acting out to making love to him as he watches TV on the edge of the bed along with a cast of characters that propels this human thing that only breathes to up-seating the U.S. president.  Chauncey became what ever our minds made of him.  He did it by doing nothing while the projecting arrows from others pierced him with the personality they wanted him to be.  (The last sentence is the only one worth remembering in this blog.)

The film was meant as a TV satire which was accomplished but more importantly points to the arrows that we all point.  We are rarely if ever the person others see us to be.  The goodness we reject within ourselves is pierced into someone else in the hope that goodness does prevail because it seems to be lax within us.  The converse works as well especially in these days when the evil we refuse to acknowledge within ourselves lives within another religion, another person’s color or just that other person over there that I don’t know but I’ll still place a strong opinion upon him or her.

The film is frustrating to watch because you either wish him to wake up or just die because of all the stuff others place upon him.  He is just “being there.”

Another twist of this “being there” is the priesthood.  I stand before all as the goodness you all lack to acknowledge within yourselves because of some silly reason, somewhere.  The priest abuse cases of children has softened this projection but it slowly will revive itself, just watch.  Why?  Because it is easier to place solutions upon someone else instead of our own supposed weary selves.  We project unto others what we deny lives and breathes within us.

I was with someone dying today along with another chaplain.  I gave her communion and touched her shoulder.  The other chaplain asked if she had stomach pains because she wasn’t eating and was she feeling alright?  (I thought doctors and nurses asked those questions but not chaplains.)  I remembering when I started as a chaplain asking questions about the quality of food and the type of room as though I was a concierge in a fancy hotel performing a quality assessment survey.

The patient projected unto us to be the gateways to something more than none of us know anything about but hope for.  “Wordless” is the best and most difficult challenge for a chaplain.  Just try standing in silence for 30 seconds with someone instead of saying, “It’ll be all right,” or “There’s jello tonight for supper, honey!”

Chauncey didn’t act or react, he just received those pierced arrows from unthinking minds and becomes a U.S. president.  A wordless chaplain has nothing in his/her arsenal except those uncomfortable and very long 30 seconds, a smile and an accepted perception and projection that something greater is about to occur.

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January One

january-1-calendarI woke up this morning with the same urge for a deep, dark cup of coffee that woke me up December 31.  I went to work (priests and holidays don’t mix should be a bumper sticker) and everyone seemed beaming while everything was the same.

There’s something about holidays that puts the “Scrooge” within us aside and suddenly we become the person our parents always hoped we’d be.  But like most toys carefully wrapped under the Christmas tree, torn open and played with for a while, we slowly return to the familiar, the practiced, the patterns of our lives that brought us to this new year.  “It’s worked this long so why tinker?” says me who has no January resolutions to break in February.

“Change.”  We hate it in our lives but welcome it when any politician spews it toward victory.  “That’s right, we need a change,” says faithful voter and the warm seat is replaced with somewhat the same tush.  Change is fueled by need.  When my favorite slacks no longer fit then change takes on a dynamic meaning.

I think most of us take a sailor’s notion of living life, “steady as she goes.”  Stay steady and what you thought was a problem will magically disappear.  It’s the power of the mind.  “If you think it’s real then it’s real” can get a lot of real time airing in our heads as long as perception doesn’t enter our mindless equation.

Left to our own wits we can easily outwit ourselves.  Even Scrooge believed himself to be doing the best he could under his circumstances of an unhealed past that haunted his present and stifled his future.  “I’m happy,” he says to himself as he slurps his evening porridge alone with a minimal glow from his fireplace.

Perhaps the metaphor for any new, beginning year.  We ask ourselves, “How’s the glow from our fireplace?”  “Can our profession retrieve that young person’s anxiety to open the carefully wrapped gift under the tree?”  “Can we uncover the unpredictable in the predictable especially in family where we think we have everyone figured out?”

The calendar says a “new year” whether we’re new or not.  The calendar says, “again” when we sometimes fight the repetition.  The calendar says, “another chance for change” and may we always choose to vote for change even if our tush is the same.

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2014 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,200 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 37 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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