Moments of Grace

Posted on November 8, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

grace_wordle-600x274Grace.  Not easy to define but easy to spot.  The Catholic Church tried to define grace and does it by dividing it up but both end up in the Church’s usual clinical way, stale and unemotional.

Grace

–wholly touching a new baby’s foot with your pinky finger
–hearing summer’s thunder rustle through your home
–first day of school and your mother’s hand is withdrawn
–getting the job that everyone said you’d never get
–waking up two hours before the alarm for your first day at work
–when she said “yes” when you thought she’d say “no
–new car smell (I had to throw that one in)
–leaving 40 degree and arriving to 78 degree
–returning to your seat when you know you’ve said something in a sermon
–person you don’t know says person you don’t know referred her to me
–the first of many colorful scribbles that adorn the refrigerator door
–the holy water blessing before falling to sleep
–that email from someone from 40 years ago
–your sports team wins in the last tens seconds
–“Beach Boy” leader Brian Wilson, fifty years later, walks on stage in darkness and everyone gives him a standing ovation before the first note is played (you had to be there)
–falling asleep and smiling to yourself after a long but meaningful day
–the moment I stand up before the Gospel and my sermon and wonder why I am the one doing this
–the conversation before the over-priced meal is served

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The Wonderful Years of Aging

Posted on November 8, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

5773166_f260“I’m Glad I’m Not Young Anymore”

“Poor boy! Poor boy! Down-hearted and depressed and in a spin Poor boy! Poor boy! Oh, youth can really do a fellow in! How lovely to sit here in the shade With none of the woes of man and maid I’m glad I’m not young anymore.”

The twenty year old’s door is open but no one is able to answer. Ring the door bell all you want, the tenant inside is busy with whatever preoccupies that age, especially that age. Depressed and not knowing the source, anxious without a recourse, moody and it’s the other person’s problem. This is the period of life that we cherish and hold to? No way.

“No More Confusion”

“The rivals that don’t exist at all The feeling you’re only two feet tall I’m glad that I’m not young anymore No more confusion No morning-after surprise No self-delusion That when you’re telling those lies She isn’t wise And even if love comes through the door The chance that goes on forevermore Forevermore is shorter than before.”

“Forever is shorter than before…” “Forever” grows shorter when you’re past that passable age. What is it that we cherish about the youth except their youth? I rarely meet youths whose conversation is about more than one subject, themselves. It’s easier to just hold up a mirror in front of them and walk away because hopes of an extended conversation vanished.

Youth Is “Dull Paint”

“The Fountain of Youth is dull as paint, Methuselah is my patron saint I’ve never been so comfortable before, Oh, I’m so glad that I’m not young anymore.”

This 1958 song from “Gigi” helps us older folks celebrate what has yet to enter a youthful minds:

  • integration of life’s experiences
  • synthesis of people you’ve met and observations made along the way
  • testing, testing and even more testing of beliefs, values and attitudes
  • critical analysis of the day’s event bolstered by previous mistakes and successes
  • more doubt than certitude
  • more certitude about what doubts you
  • contentment overwhelms you when you least expect it
  • confidence is proven everyday
  • sentences now contain a noun and verb
  • endless memories are processed daily

“Methuselah is my patron saint I’ve never been so comfortable before, Oh, I’m so glad that I’m not young anymore.”

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The Birth of Church

Posted on November 6, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

church-cartoonIt all begins with a personal yearning deep inside you.  You feel that something is missing, an emptiness that you hope can be at least satisfied if not fulfilled.  The yearning is for something more and that something more is out there, beyond yourself.  It makes you wonder if others feel the same way.

In moments of honesty you share your feelings and find that others do sometimes feel the same yearning.  You and your newly found friends decide to meet.  You stand around in a room and wonder what to do next.  “I guess someone could lead us,” says the first spoken sentence.  Someone else suggests we explore pages and pages of stuff that’s been written generation after generation with direction, dictates, guidance and inspiration; much of which the group would like to hear more about.

A leader is chosen from the group, one of the wealthier members because he has more time than those who labor 12-14 hours a day.  He carefully puts together a simple service to lead The Group to their goals of addressing this yearning which only seems to grow stronger with age.  The Group finds itself rapidly growing and needs to expand.  How to make that happen?  The Group decides that if the leader cannot marry then his wealth will become a part of The Group.  What a great idea, except of course for the now-unmarried man who needs to make a few phone calls to girlfriends.  Someone in the group wisely inquires, “What about the women who wish to lead us?”  “There’s none like them,” another says and a third shouts, “That’s it!  They’ll be called nuns!”  All agree as the women resume their kitchen and cleanup duties.

Teaching their children is a cinch, what 8 year old will question the wisdom of all those pages of stuff and a trusting parent telling them that it’s all true?  A virgin’s birth and a crucified guy who saves you from something or another to an 8 year old is responded with, “Yeah, but what’s for supper?”

This yearning within someone joining The Group at a much later age is trickier because it all sounds too improbable, impractical and mostly impossible.  “Faith” and “trust” is pushed around a lot during those conversations.

Back to the impressible kid.  A depressingly-induced 40 days is foisted upon him and kind acts are encouraged like buying what parents and teachers called “pagan babies” for .25 each.  (Do you know how many birthday cards I have to send each year since those days?)  The creation of indulgences also motivates us to shorten our destiny-pending-Purgatory days.  The more you give, in prayer and money, the lesser those imminent days become.  (Where those records are recorded and kept, I have no idea but I’m working on it.)  On November 1, this eager kid is taught to go to The Group and say three prayers to release a Purgatory soul.  You are to then leave The Group, go outside and reenter to recite the same three prayers to release another soul.  You don’t have to be sincere in your prayers, just do the three.  You can do this for as long as you wish.  (I think four was my limit.  These days I’d say that I love the theology of a union of the living and deceased but the methodology is way off.)

Years and more years pass and many wonderful things happen through The Group; more groups are formed, grand schools built, works of selfless charity, works of true mercy, and countless examples of Group members helping each other.

Decades pass and those simple, original people become more aware of The Groups thinking and how to respond to their inner yearnings.   A struggle ensues that brings The Group’s intentions back to their original meaning.  The unmarried guy is now teamed up with a team of others to govern and influence The Group.  What began as the unmarried guy happily singing “My Way” is now doomed to sing with the rest of The Group, “I’m Stuck In The Middle With You.”

Behind the curtains for decades is a small hiccup of some unmarried guys doing some crazy stuff that eventually cost millions of dollars to The Group but no one wants to talk about it so it remains on the back burners of our minds while The Group of unmarried guys tries to solve its own problems.

In the meantime, generation after generation of The Group raise families, build businesses, labor long and hard while all consoled and guided by The Group for which they love and faithfully support.

It’s funny because it all began with one person with a deep yearning, seeking something or someone greater than himself.  The Group has found its way while the unmarried guy is still wondering why he can’t sing “My Way” any longer.

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Diversion: The U.S. Distraction

Posted on November 1, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

DiversionIt’s a delicate subject because it places ourselves in a personal place where no opinion other than our own is appreciated but just think how much of your life is a series of diversions.  A redirection from something or someone; a distraction, so says the dictionary.

We now have the luxury of diversions because we will not get polio, fluoride’s been taken of, the black plague becomes a Jeopardy question and we now get to live these luxuriously extra human years looking for the next diversion.  (Yes, one ends and another needs to replace it, and quickly!)

My sister knows more about Kim Kardansian than she does me, perhaps my fault for not pushing my life upon her as much as her inquiring into mine further than the standard, “How are you?” and now let’s move on to the Kardansians.  (I’m not even sure who they are while she tells me of the wiles and willies of their adventures.)

I swear (apologies) that Wisconsinites know more about the Green Bay Packer players than they do their neighbor, much less the person they sleep with every night.  (Stats included!)

Third world country folks end one meal only to clean it up and begin to plan the next meal.  (How sad for them that the Kardansians have escaped them!).  Third world people’s thoughtful preoccupations is upon the new iPhone which replaces a perfectly working iPhone, back and forth whether you should marry the woman you’ve been living with the past three years, what debt can be transferred to this company to further place you in further debt, along with dutifully following your favorite football team (seasonal taste), your favorite television program, or the antics of a fellow employee. (tongue is in cheek.)

We, humans, need stimulus and we will find it anywhere or in anyone that we can.  The richer you are the more we will follow and analyze you from your choice of wives to the car that you drive.  We even, if I dare use a strong word, “thrive” on it.  We feed upon it because we need the diversion from our freed-up First World existence that has provided us with a more years, a deeper self development and more opportunities to volunteer and share time with others.

I wonder what my sister thinks that I or Kim are doing right now?

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“Life With Cats”

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

images(counselor: “So tell me a little about it.”)

Well, it’s not easy to talk about it but I’ll try.  Growing up our family had one that lasted 14 years.  “Midnight” was her name and living across from a gully, she had plenty to feast upon.  No de-clawing for this cat, she had the best of all worlds: critters during the day and a warm basement at night.  The cue for her re-entry into our house was a small ladder against a window next to our television set.  “Midnight wants to come in,” a lazy relative would yell.  The door would open and mother would fry fresh ground beef for this vagabond we possessively called our pet.  She’d sleep in the basement and was never allowed in the living room although her espionage visits inevitably led to a loud, “Get out of here.”

After years of this mother drove her twelve miles away, in spite of the laments of five children.  The five of us went through our obligatory stages of grief but never seemed to reach number five: acceptance.  We were right because two months later Midnight shows up waiting for fresh ground beef and her basement apartment.  Her death is not suitable for printing but suffice it to say, Midnight remained with me.  A totally black colored cat that a family captured or was captured?

Fast forward to Sam & Sylvia, not named by me but inherited because of a niece who wanted cats and then didn’t.  I bring them into my home and hope that they adjust.  Soon I learn that I am the one adjusting.  (But am I not paying the monthly rent?)  What once was mine is now theirs.  Doors?  None is to be left closed because every door is another adventure full of risk, new discoveries of smell and scents and, of course, danger.)  Attention?  Try typing and Sam needs to proof read the contents and stand on the keys while wanting to be petted.  Sleep?  I don’t think any other living creature sleeps as much and enjoys it as much as these two things do.  Ten minutes of walking around their estate leads to a quiet nap, prior to the self-bath.

One night I happen to offer a treat at 8:40 p.m. to these two things who own the place and don’t pay rent.  Big mistake.  Since then, 8:40 p.m. give or take an hour or two and these things are waiting breathlessly for a meager treat while their full food supply ages in another room.  Watching TV or sleeping, a constant companion is above, inside or along side of me.  Their need for affection is endless.  (Aren’t we the same way?!)

I’m told cats live longer than dogs.  There’s no dog spit as cats don’t breath that way.  They clean themselves more than I ought to.  There’s no winter walks since I have litter boxes that contain their treats.  They softly munch throughout the day (hint for us?) and drink plenty of water (second health hint?)

Two tumors removals for Sam and teeth cleaning for both of them and on the eve of their tenth anniversary with me, I’m happy to tell Midnight that I’ve finally got it down with these things.  Now, if they’d only pay rent in “their” home!

(counselor: “Take two aspirins and don’t call me again.”)

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The Crazy Family Living In My Head

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.

imagesShe’s my second cousin, Grief. I see her periodically. I don’t go out of my way to visit her. She comes on her own to be with me for a while. I treat her gently in the hope that she’s satisfied enough to return home and not visit again for a long, long time.

I have another cousin, Hope, but she seems to live so far away. We try sometimes to meet half way but it just doesn’t seem to work out. Something always comes up and the meeting is postponed to another unknown day. It’s too bad that she doesn’t live closer. She’s probably my favorite relative.

My brothers are Pete and Repeat. They are always around me. They’re twins and their routine is pretty much what you would expect, the same old, same old. It’s no wonder that their best friend is Boredom.

My neighbor is a hoot, she’s Nagging. She always seems to find something to complain about. Weather is too hot; no, today it’s too cold. “This person is this way and I wish she were different,” she tells me. Nagging never seems content. I’m glad there’s a fence between us so at least I don’t have her everyday.

Supper is not always enjoyable for me. Envy, Cynicism and Hubris tend to show up. But I like the idea that they are where I can keep an eye on them, as the psalm says, “you set a table before me in the sight of my foes.” It’s good to know that their right across from me.

My uncle is crazy. His name is, well, Crazy. He’s great at parties, gets everybody laughing but I don’t think I’d like to live with him. It’s fun to be with him for a while but happily he returns to where ever it is he lives.

Jealousy lives upstairs from me. I had to rent it out to make ends meet but I wish I could find someone else to live up there. In the meantime, I have to cope with Jealousy’s perpetual noise. It’s constant. Always having to make grand announcements and always having to say it twice when I heard him the first time. Nighttime is the only time I find that it’s quiet upstairs. He must work second shift.

My youngest sister is Joy. I’ve tried to describe her to people but I can’t seem to find the words. I tell them that they would have to meet her themselves, then they would know what she’s like. Unending energy and a personality that is so warm and inviting. I thought it’s too bad that we’re related, I think she’d make a wonderful wife.

My cat is named Gratitude. What better name for a pet whose love is unconditional and who year daily attention to survive? I cannot leave Gratitude alone for too long before she makes those cat sounds that rip your heart a part. To ignore her would be her death.

Well those are some of the people in my life. When you think about it, they may not be that different from people you’re related to, as well.

I guess we all have relatives we are proud of and some we would just as soon not invite over. The mix of them all in my life is, I guess, what makes my life. For better or worse, what can I say?  It’s family.

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“Yes”

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
yesI hate when someone calls to ask me a favor and begins with the question, “What are doing tomorrow night?” I have no idea what is involved but I’m expected to give an instant answer. Am I to be an accomplice to murder or moving a couch, I wonder.  I say, “Yes,” and then I hear, “Oh good, you can help me clean the bathroom.” Now I’m stuck. Instead of being asked, “Would you like to come to supper tomorrow night?” Then I know what’s expected and can either lie or accept.

God, of course, is the one asking the question and we are expected to reply, “Yes,” with no knowledge of what is about to happen. “Are you willing to live life?” God might ask us. What is our response? It is like the Jesus parable where the landowner asks the same question and first man says, “Yes,” but then never shows up and the second man says, “No,” but changes his mind and goes to work in the field.

How hard is it to “yes” to the unknown? We all know the answer to that question. Not knowing what’s behind life’s curtain is what our “yes” mandates. (Is that what “blind faith” means?)

Our “yes” is based on a faith foundation that includes God’s mercy, compassion and continuing presence. We may “blindly” say “yes” but our trusting eyes can see the glories of God and we are able to give an unconditional “yes” to life.

What does this life hold for us? Well, keep saying “yes” and then see what happens.

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Forever “and ever”

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
forever and everI love satellite radio. Since sliced bread, I can’t think of anything comparable. Commercial free, varied and so many offerings. I renew it every three years. My renewal came up so I called to renew for another three years and the operator said, “for an additional $60.00 you can have it forever?” I was stumped. Do I choose “forever” or the “three years.” (The decisions we must make in life.) I paused and said, “Is satellite going out of business soon?” The operator laughed and assured me that no, it’s here to stay. I’m thinking what does “forever” mean in business anyway. Will my hardware store be here forever and my pharmacy be beside me for all time?

I bought the “forever” and will never make another payment for the rest of my life. Pretty cool, I think.

I have a wedding ceremony soon and thought I’d talk about “forever.” I could talk forever but thought it best to contain it to a few minutes. What does “forever” mean in marriage these days anyway? In our U.S. culture, I think I’d make a Vegas bet. A $20,000.00 wedding ceremony and the bets are on five married years, tops. We’re too influenced by others to decide otherwise. It’s too convenient to get out of a marriage these days. (I love the ads for “Christian divorce attorneys” who swear that there’s a calm, civilized way of divorcing. I think that contradicts what divorce is, it should be divisive and hurtful. Otherwise, why do it? Also, what’s so “calm and civilized” about Christianity?)

The Catholic Church ends many prayers with “forever and ever.” Overkill? I agree. “Forever” isn’t enough. The Church needs to add another “ever” after it? (Will this marriage ever end?!)

Spiritually, “forever” means right now, this day. What are you doing now and what can you do? What are you thinking about and hoping for right now? Our “nows” make “forever” happen.

I’m enjoying satellite radio…. now.

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The Silence of St. Joseph

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
taller+sj+detalle+1

“St. Joseph was a quiet man.”

Lot’s wife has no name (I guess you could call her “Salty”) and Joseph says and has no recorded statements in the Bible. The next cocktail party you attend, you can amaze your friends with these tiny bits of trivia.

God speaks to Joseph through dreams. Joseph was aware of them, interpreted and acted upon them. Lucky for the Holy Family. He probably learned more in his silence than in telling everyone what to think or what was good or bad in the world.  Joseph’s silence opened him up to hear the voice of God, in his case, found in dreams.

A fellow employee told me that when she arrives home, the television goes on and stays on. Imagine all those TV ads floating around somewhere in her head. (No wonder I always thought she was hyper at work.) She had no silence. There wasn’t room in her head for anything other than toilet cleaners, divorce attorneys or cheap auto insurance.

Winter has its drawbacks but one benefit I find is that the doors and windows are closed and there is a newly found silence that fills the house. A quiet that can either be experienced as boredom or blessed.

Our culture prides itself on noise and lights. You can’t get away from either. The toll it must take on our psyche and soul must be astounding. I was about to say why not “take some time out for silence” but that sounds too cheesy. You don’t take “time” out or you’d just sit there and wonder when this scheduled time of this silence will end. A space needs to be created within you that allows silence to fill you up in order to shut you down and open up something greater than you.

Joseph’s silence was blessed and graced. It provided insight that no one else knew from first marrying the pregnant Mary to enabling his family to escape death. Benefits from winter’s silence.

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The “Holy Family,” Normal?

Posted on October 26, 2014 by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
HolyFamilyIf I hear once more what a “normal” family is, I think I’ll….well, who knows.
The June Cleavers and Donna Reeds make for good television but are lousy at real life stuff. The buzz word opposite normal was “dysfunctional” as though that described only your family. All other families were “functional.” How unlucky for you.
Thinking about real life families, consider the biblical characters during the Christmas season.

A crazy cousin who dresses weird and eats the same way.
A pregnant unwed young girl who has no viable skills outside the home but looks good in blue.
A silent-type husband-to-be who wants to get rid of the pregnant-blue young girl and move on.
An old married lady who discovers she’s with child and, if that’s not enough, the kid keeps “leaping” in her womb; presumably with “joy.”
Angles coming and going and making grand announcements that no one understands but always prefaces them with “Do not be afraid,” as though that helps with this flying thing in front of your face.
An mute uncle who has lots to say but is unable to say them.
A government official that wants you dead before you’ve even born.
An old lady who prays all day and promises she’ll die once you’re born.

Your 12 year old refuses to leave church because he needs to “about my Father’s business.”
Your 30 year old son doesn’t listen to you and serves the best wine last setting back the family’s finances.

Now picture these people around a Christmas dinner table, carrying on, sharing opinions, thoughts and words (except mute uncle.)

That’s the wonder of the Christmas season and beyond. The awe of the season is what each person contributes to the story. To leave out any of these characters is to miss an important element of the dramatic story of God breaking into history. All accomplished through these super-not-normal people.  Happy Dysfunction; no I mean, Merry Christmas.

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