Soulful Muse

View – See
Hear – Listen
Touch – Grasp
Travel – Walk
Travel – Journey
Taste – Savor
Sip – Swallow
Grin – Smile
Venial or Mortal Sin? – Judge Yourself
Distractions – Focus
24/7 News – Discernment
Nap – Never a Chair
Shrinking – Growing
Foggy Secular Thoughts – Good
Quick Meal – Stick with McDonald’s
Deceased Parents – Still Talking
Dog or Cat Pet – Always Cats
Me, Myself & I – Anyone Other than You
Self-deceit – Blunt Honesty
Sleepless nights – Re-Read this List
Breakfast or Lunch – Brunch
Yesterdays – Always and Only Today
Stranger – New Friend
Unknown – Embrace
Wandering – Wondering
Doubtful – Uncover
Intelligence – Folly
Self – Others
Botox – Beautiful Aging Features
Isolation – Community
Books & More Books – Scripture
Loud & Louder – Silence
Endings – Beginnings
Death – New Life

A Catholic hymn sings, “We return in love what love has made.” Very easy funeral sermon to preach.

If there is such a thing, a “Happy Death” is attributed to St. Joseph’s demise. Why? Because he had the Blessed Mother on one side and the Son of God on the other side of his bed. Perhaps some angels are afloat, as well? (He is also shown holding a lily flower.)

After a long, complete life, those are the “happy deaths.” There are also those with a lingering, painful disease, along with those for a child with a deadly disease. There are also those deaths of too many others who star in our nightly news broadcasts, night after night; many of them simply gathering, shopping, or praying.

A “Happy death.” Two words you will never, ever hear us U.S. Americans say. We all either ponder or dismiss our demise. It’s not exactly cocktail chatter. Yet, the lingering mounts the more our aging lingers.

There’s speechless Joseph, whose dreams all come true, lies dying. On one side of Joe is his wife, the one who told that towering angel, “The greatness of the Lord is upon me.” Opposite Mary is none other than the Son of God (or really God but only playing the Son in the movie), assuring Joseph of the many “Blessednesses’” of those Beatitudes. A litany of beatitudes assuring us that no fear or worry can ever usurp the earthly and heavenly protection of God’s love for us.

Now, is that a “death wish,” or can that be, for us, a living wish? Pretend to be Joseph and heed all of your dreams in the quiet of silence. Then on one side of you kneels Mary and her willingness to give her all to all of life’s unknowns. The other side of us? We know the person. Jesus, whose life, like his Mom’s, becomes a model living within our lives. And those hovering angels? Why, they are protecting us every minute of every day.

Me? When I’m in a near car crash on Milwaukee’s worst street, which occurs often, my last thought will be, “Who’s gonna feed my two cats?”

“Eye Has Not Seen”

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love him;
Spirit of love, come, give us the mind of Jesus, teach us the wisdom of God.

When pain and sorrow weigh us down, be near to us, O Lord,
forgive the weakness of our faith, and bear us up within your peaceful word.

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love him;
Spirit of love, come, give us the mind of Jesus, teach us the wisdom of God.

Our lives are but a single breath, we flower and we fade,
yet all our days are in your hands, so we return in love what love has made.

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love him;
Spirit of love, come, give us the mind of Jesus, teach us the wisdom of God.

To those who see with eyes of faith, the Lord is ever near,
reflected in the faces of all the poor and lowly of the world.

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love him;
Spirit of love, come, give us the mind of Jesus, teach us the wisdom of God.

We sing a mystery from the past in halls where saints have trod,
yet ever new the music rings to Jesus, Living Song of God.

Marty Haugen

We say, “I will,” to some upcoming fun event. We say, “I could,” to something doubtful. We also say, “I won’t,” about a transition or change.

This is an English lesson, folks, so you may wish to take notes. We think the nouns are important, but it’s the verbs that matter. Nouns simply identify. Verbs act.

Isaiah is full of verbs this weekend. “Share,” a kindergarten lesson long forgotten. “Shelter.” “Clothe.” “Healed.” “Call” and “answer,” two powerful verbs. “Cry,” speaks for itself. More wonderful verbs for us to ponder, “bestow,” “satisfy,” “rise,” and (the best of all is his ending, “shall become.”

Verbs complete nouns. Verbs make nouns worth living. Nouns just stand out there. Priding themselves upon, who else? Themselves. Worthless without some kind of verb propelling that noun to some kind of action.

Isn’t that what this beautiful gift of faith is all about? We don’t just say, “I’m a believer.” That’s rock song written by Neil Diamond and sung by “The Monkees.”There is absolutely no active verb in that statement. Just sounds stale and trite. “I”m a believer.”

Those nouns? Jesus gives us life’s nouns. How many times do our prayers give glory, again and again, to the name of God. As if just saying the name justifies our faith life. Alas, those missing pesky verbs.

The nouns of Jesus this weekend? Easy. “Salt,” “city,” “light,” “mountain,” “lamp,” and finally, a “bushel basket,”

And those three sentences from St. Paul? It powerfully states that “It ain’t about me!”

Thank you Jesus for your nouns. How often we hear, “Is Jesus the Lord and Savior of my life?” Remember those who stopped you in the airport asking that question? I continued walking and yelled behind me, “I’m a priest!”The only verb we hear is, “is.” Pretty safe, secure, and truly stale. “Is” shouldn’t even be a verb. It’s simply a two-letter word getting from one noun to the next noun. Two nouns do not equal an action. It’s neither a good sentence. It’s only a declaring declaration to honor another noun. Ourselves. Life’s gift is from God. Jesus provides us with the nouns. The Holy Spirit instills within us the verbs prompting action in the name of the nouns we call Jesus and God.

Verb up your faith life. Verb it like you’ve never done before. In faith, because those verbs added to your vocabulary may very well transform your “I won’t” statements into “I can,” or better yet, “I will,” by the grace of the noun we call God.

So now you know what I feel like when hearing, “It is what it is.”

(Fifth Sunday Scripture Readings)

Is 58:7-10
Thus says the LORD:
Share your bread with the hungry,
shelter the oppressed and the homeless;
clothe the naked when you see them,
and do not turn your back on your own.
Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your wound shall quickly be healed;
your vindication shall go before you,
and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer,
you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!
If you remove from your midst
oppression, false accusation and malicious speech;
if you bestow your bread on the hungry
and satisfy the afflicted;
then light shall rise for you in the darkness,
and the gloom shall become for you like midday.

1 Cor 2:1-5
When I came to you, brothers and sisters,
proclaiming the mystery of God,
I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom.
For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you
except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling,
and my message and my proclamation
were not with persuasive words of wisdom,
but with a demonstration of Spirit and power,
so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom
but on the power of God.

Mt 5:13-16
Jesus said to his disciples:
“You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
You are the light of the world.
A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.
Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;
it is set on a lampstand,
where it gives light to all in the house.
Just so, your light must shine before others,
that they may see your good deeds
and glorify your heavenly Father.”

You wake up to a beautiful sunlit day and say to yourself, “It’s great to be alive.” You see no stars in the sky. Perhaps, a half-moon is seen in the distance, if you look enough. There is only her bright light enlightening our newfound day. Lucky us. We should all have more enlightening days than those darkening ones when the lights have apparently turned off. Who switched the switch?

What is learned doing brightening days? “Enjoy yourself. All is well. Life couldn’t be better than this?” What do those darkening days and nights teach us? Absolutely everything or is it absolutely everything?

In the darkness of night, stars are vividly seen. Some are steady; others are shooting themselves after what appears to be a new destination. Where are those traveling stars headed? I understand those steady stars; they mark the foundation and bedrock of our lives. We’d be lost without them.

Without those steady ones brightly shining in our darkness, then, we would surely lose our way. Or would we? But what about those flashing ones that stream across your kitchen window when you can’t sleep? Are their movements something that I’m missing, focusing only on those steady, flickering ones?

Sunlight needn’t show her other lights because she is glittering away for our peace and enjoyment.

In our culture, we hate the darkness. We keep trying to light up every evening with even more light. “Curse the darkness!” said someone.

The darknesses of life, I don’t need to list them because the longer we live, the more we experience and embrace them. Driving down the street, I saw a mural on a garage painted “Grow through what you go through.” I wanted to park and thank the owner, but traffic was behind me.

The light of our faith, or should I say the star of our faith? Jesus Christ. Not the movie star type but the star in our darknesses, even in the darkest times of our life. Jesus is both our steady and traveling star. The steady star of Jesus keeps us grounded and safe. That traveling star of Jesus invites and leads us to new insights, and vistas and to a stronger star than we’ve ever known before.

Simple thinking? “A pie in the sky?” Or, is it that brightly shining star during the darkest times of our lives?

He and I have little in common. So how do the two of us get along? Full of concerning emotions, lots of laughter and life’s appreciations. Lunch happens now on a regular basis.

He and I have little in common, yet so much connects us. I believe the word is called “life.” It’s that spiritual organ that’s wedged between the liver and the stomach. Trust me on that. It can be sleepy sometimes, but it’s always living and alive, ready to quiet, guide, inform and act.

Two parishes ago, I wrote in the weekly bulletin inviting any parishioners to a free lunch to get to know each other. One thousand one hundred families and one person responds, and he insists on treating. Go figure.

Over Bloody Mary’s (and its obligatory chaser) and lunch, we share our family stories and current political happenings and exchange health concerns. Of politics and health, I thought I topped his, but he always seems to think that he’s winning.

He makes good political points, and I listen, not always in agreement but hearing what he believes. Today it was talking about the two “p’s” of politics. He says the platform wins over the person. I responded that the person is the one defining the platform. He disagreed. (You can’t be a priest without considering personhood in anyone’s character and actions.)

I got to know his family. Hearing about losing two parents in two years and was asked to offer an anniversary service at his son’s grave after a stupid motorcycle accident. All of this is coupled with his happy family stories and sprinkled with my family and friends’ adventures.

We quietly eat, only stopping when new thoughts pop into our heads.

It’s both a sampling and a microcosm of our larger sad societal picture. There is no meeting of the minds. Never will be. It is truly, a meeting of the souls for good conversation, food, and brotherhood and then suggesting solutions.

Between Christmas and New Year’s, a gathering of ten people gathered to spend time with and to be with a good friend who’s dying. He’s lucid, alert, and, as always, ever engaging, but now all contained in a weakening body.

He’s a priest friend of over forty years to me, and everyone’s together in the living room. Between sharing stories full of laughter and memories, he remains the center of attention, even when the true center of attention is our relationship with him. One story triggers another then silence ensues until the quiet person retells a tale of many years ago that we all remember but have forgotten.

We’re all professionally associated with each other, but this day, this moment, together, our personal association is with this one person. He’s seated comfortably, enjoying his glass of water and absorbing all that is said about him, whether including or concerning him. It’s a living Vigil Service honoring someone who is still living.

After reviving my drink, I see that the chair next to him is open. So I sit closer to him to visit and better hear him. We equally remember and reminisce episodes and escapades back and forth, smiling away as each story is retold. The others in the living room continue their chatter and chatting that you’d expect at a party.

Both of our sharings are slowly replaced with a silence between us. An awkward human moment or a moment of heavenly grace? “Priest to priest,” I think to myself that I ought to say something priestly to break the silence. But, as this wise man taught me, there is a time for silence and a time for speaking, and more often than not, its silence is the most haunting and nourishing. He taught me well. No, that’s wrong. He showed me well.

Can “haunting” and “nourishing” be used in the same sentence? Can those two words be included in one sentence in the miracle we call life? Yes.

Because it’s the union of our wordliness and us listening to the happy going-ons with loving, caring friends carrying on. The colorful noises of those caring friends fulfills more than one lifetime of relationships with this one priestly friend. Between the silence of us two? That’s God’s kingdom, fulfilled.

Books by Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS. are available on Amazon.com. Topics include the Catholic religion, spirituality and U.S. culture.

The adage often used in retirement is, “When you worked you controlled time, now time controls you.”

Kinda true, but not entirely. I know today is Friday, but I think it’s Saturday. I have errands to run this Friday, so I’m off in my car. I pass a school and wonder why all the cars are there. After all, it’s Saturday. It must be a special weekend meeting for teachers, I think to myself.

I return home and set my alarm for Sunday’s Mass because I think it’s Saturday while knowing that it’s Friday. After a few hours, I realized that my thinking was wrong but that my knowing was true.

I completed all my Friday errands while truly believing that today was Saturday.

So, time does not control me. I’m still in control but not always in an accurate way.

We go to sleep at night filled with an abundance of worries and fears and then awake to a new day filled with hope and joy….

“Behold.” What a beautiful, colorful, strong word. It’s a sentence in itself. Just saying that one word writes a complete paragraph. We don’t hear it said in the middle or the end of a sentence. “Behold” is always the first word to express something wonderful, scary, or a feeling needing to say that one word – “Behold.”

“The curtain’s been lifted.” What was not known is now known. In faith, it also means embracing the unknown while the unknown remains a mystery. “Behold.” It startles you to say it and it startles those around you.

So, go ahead. On your next elderly birthday, before your feet hit the floor in the morning, you now know the spiritually impacted word to begin that new year. Yell it out, “Behold.”
I had a “behold” this past week. Biden has government documents tucked away as does Trump. That’s the scary part of that single word. Then where’s FRD’s government documents housed?
“This is your dinner bill,” says the server. Because you see, using “this” at George Webb’s makes perfect sense. At a fancy restaurant, however, the server would accurately proclaim, “Behold, here’s your dinner bill.” Car repairs? “This” or “Behold?” You be the judge.

It’s a relatively new word used in the Catholic Mass, replacing the word (ready for this!) That’s the word – “This.” Sound like a good change from this unchanging Church? When the priest raises the host and chalice which word best captures and holds your breath, “Behold” or “This”? No vote needed.
John the Baptist says it to all of us – both in his time and now during our time, “behold.” Mary can’t think of a better word to announce her pending birth. (I think just seeing a wide-winged angel standing in your living room alarms you enough to hear that word in your head.)

A strong prayer always said is, “Humble but also empowering.” That’s the definition of that word that I won’t bore you with saying it again. It reminds us and alerts us to remember the Giver of this feast called life. Then our Creator empowers us to face any difficulty with the peaceful presence of God in our lives.

A peaceful and restful sleep awaits us because of the power of that one word. Our tomorrow is now the new endeavor of a new day lived within that believable one word.

Underused? You bet. Felt? You bet. I’ve never used it myself in conversation, and I’m confident none of you have. As the adage goes, “Before you go to bed tonight, use it in a sentence today, and it will surely be your own.” That’s your homework assignment.

Proudly use that one word sometime today and see what happens. Whatever the content, it will truly moves and empower you and then inspire those who hear it.

“This and that” is the response when asked, “What did you do today.” “Behold” is the epiphany presented to you, and “beheld” is what you tightly clung to your entire life.

In describing your life, I can save you a lot of time. Life is summarized with two “S” words: surprises and setbacks. There you have it.

Thank you for listening. Now for tonight’s sermon.

For non-believers, it’s the light of spring and budding stuff surrounding them, followed by the richness of summer’s heat and its frolicking. (I don’t know who frolics anymore, but it sounds like fun.) Ummmm. Easy, simple, convenient, obvious and completely wrong.

For us, not-so-bright Christians? Where do we find the light? In the darkness. We see light when we, well, when we need light! This is what the Epiphany is all about. When said, “I had an epiphany,” it’s proclaimed to family and friends with great joy. (Notice I didn’t say the shallowness of “happiness” but the Divine “joy.”)

Light’s requested in the darkness of indecision, it’s felt in the darkness of doubt, light is experienced in those haunting questions either about life here or the life after here. Christians seek light in the darkness when light is most needed. How about the dark places of our lives that we refuse to admit and see? Or those dark places within us that we haven’t even uncovered yet?

Flashlight? Nay … needs batteries. Our own eyes looking inside ourselves? Nope. Too one-sided.

We need, no, but yes, we need it, but it’s that we seek the light that this day provides. A heavenly star that brought nations together, even if for a short time, to show that this light is universal and eternal.

That’s the surprises and setbacks that happened to Jesus Christ to model for us how to handle our two life “S’s.”

I hate it when a friend tells me, “You gotta see that Netflix film. It’s great. The hero is killed in the end.” Am I surprised? No! Because now I know the ending. Why waste two hours when I already know the ending?

That’s what happens with our prayers. (Please note the pronoun “our.”) Try praying without our provided answer to God. In giving a solution or resolution to God. If answered with your wish, you tell your friends for years to come about how your prayer was answered with your answer. (Please note the pronoun.) Surprise. Nada. (whispering) That’s called idolatry.

Pray always with the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit to buttress and support you; you will be enlightened with more insights and guidances than you can imagine.

Michael Kaminski retires today. I can’t wait to hear the closing song. (Or, is there a closing song?) Mike’s been here a few years, got bored, and now it’s time to move on. Next week, in his retirement, he’ll think, “Today’s Wednesday,” (whispering) when it’s really Thursday. In retirement, every day is Saturday. As believers in the light of this Christ, we celebrate and honor that every single day of the week is Sunday.

There are so many unexpected surprises during this beautiful journey of life. (“unexpected surprises” is redundant, but you get the meaning.) Coupled with life’s setbacks – full of troubles, trembles, and travails.

Epiphany shows us today that all is okay. Motel 6 spokesman Tom Bodett famously said, “We’ll leave the light on for you.”

Well, how about the story of our faith? Three kings (whose names we can never remember), a villainous governor (whose name we all know), two tired parents (we know them), an unnamed donkey with a map and magic marker yellowing directions to Egypt, shepherds (all without names) wondering if their sheep are still in the hills, angels (no names provided) looming all about…and only one bright lone star constantly shining through all of our darknesses of fears, doubts, uncertainties, and despairs. As well as life’s joys, successes, and peace. Always hoping that the latter outweighs the former. The song “Away in the manager?” Forget about it.

Apparently asleep but with a joyful smile on his face is this newborn babe full of surprises and setbacks for both himself and for us. He’s asking us to be “newborns” each day. (Even in the unknown but joyful time of retirement.)

What are their names? They are the Divine star of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit saying to us every Sunday (and those other misnamed days), “Our light is forever brightly lit and lovingly burning away for each and every one of you.”

Just think of all the fun, anticipation and excitement that accompanies gatherings of family and friends. Birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmases are those occasions for giving, receiving, and unwrapping beautifully wrapped gifts. Some have colorful bows gracefully attached on top and some not.

Regifting is the term for rewrapping a gift to someone that was gift-wrapped for you. Its consequences can work either way.

Regifting a sweater you don’t care for can make someone happy. You say to yourself, “Good, now that’s gone out of the closet.” Or, (true story) you can prepare and wrap up a regift and give it to the person who gave it to you two Christmases ago. The regifted says, “Did you forget? Have you forgotten? I gave you that sweater! You told me you liked it!”

Our journey of life is the second version. It’s our unwrapping of that sacred gift. Creator, God, gift-wrapped this wonderful life for each of us. And, to the best of our abilities, we wear this gift, this gift of life and faith as best we can, just like a warm sweater during cold winter days. When our unwrapping comes, and indeed it will, we wrap up ourselves and regift it back to the One who gifted us.

That word “one,” by the way, is spelled with a capital “O.” Please place a bow on top of yours.