September 28th, A note from Fr. Scott

Recently my phone rang.  I answered it and on the other end was a telemarketer, trying to convince me to buy some kind of movie package for my TV.  It was described as a great deal, unlimited movies (that were not the ones found on HBO and the other pay-channels) for one low price (I can’t remember the quoted price but I think it was near $30).  This was a special offer for a monthly trial, which, I think, means the price goes up considerably the second month.

          After the spiel, the last line was, “So can I sign you up for the month?”  I do try to be polite to telemarketers because I know their job isn’t easy and I believe they are often treated rudely on the phone, so I tried to frame my answer softly: “No, I really don’t have much time to watch movies, so it wouldn’t be worth it to me.”  Then I realized the telemarketer had hung up on me immediately after the word “No”.  There was no “All right, thank you for your time” or “Maybe another time” or “Have a nice day”.  There was no goodbye.  Just a rude hang-up (at least that’s how I received it).

          The next day, I was walking out of a grocery store with my mother and was maneuvering around behind a car when the driver honked his horn.  Horns tend to be loud and both my mother and I were startled by the unexpected loud noise.  As we walked a few more feet, the driver of the car saw us and apologized profusely for startling us.  The driver was trying to get someone’s attention and didn’t know we were there.  I was most impressed by the caring reaction of the driver.  No hint of rudeness whatsoever, just sincere concern. 

          As an occasional recipient of rude behavior (aren’t we all?), I admit that rude behavior leaves a negative feeling inside me—rudeness implies that I don’t matter as a person and that’s not a pleasant feeling.  It can affect the rest of my day.  The opposite happens when someone treats me like I matter.  I experience a pleasantly good feeling which I think affects the rest of my day.

I’m not sure why it’s so difficult for people to say “Excuse me” or “I’m sorry” or even a simple “Thank you”.  It seems to me that that takes less energy than ignoring another person or being deliberately negative toward them.  Growing up, I had the idea that men were supposedly ruder than women (who were more sensitive), although I’m not sure that’s exactly the case today.  The telemarketer I encountered was a woman; the driver a young man. 

Somehow I don’t think there is any room for rudeness in Christianity.  That doesn’t mean we act wimpy and let others walk all over us.  Jesus certainly confronted people who taught others misunderstandings about God, but characteristically Jesus wasn’t what we might call negative. He brought the Good News of salvation to many (no, not everyone always listened to Him); He gave second chances; He ate with sinners; He treated others with respect unless (until) they were leading others astray (then in a chastening way, He spoke up and spoke out about the dangers of such sin).

Rudeness flows from an “I”-centered existence.  (“I” am more important than anyone else; “MY” way is better than anyone else’s way.)  That is not, of course, what our faith teaches us—and if we think it does, we’re misunderstanding both the faith and God.

I realize we are all victims of rudeness on occasion, but that doesn’t give us the right to act the same toward others.  If we react in kind, then we’ve become the perpetrators.  The grace of God gives us the ability to make better choices.

Have a blessed week . . .

September 21st, A note from Fr. Scott

Last week I attended a funeral.  He was 17, diagnosed with leukemia less than one month before he died.  I saw his mother shortly before the Mass and just gave her a wordless hug.  She simply said, “There are no words.”

          No, there aren’t any words at a moment like that, at least no words that make any sense.  And yet we desperately want words that make sense, that bring some sort of comfort to those moments of intense grief.  But such words are not to be found.

          Two days after I attended that funeral, the Church celebrated the Feast of Our Mother of Sorrows.  There are two possible Gospels for that day.  One selection is from the infancy narratives in the Gospel of Luke where Simeon holds the child, Jesus, and tells Mary “and you yourself a sword will pierce”.  One wonders if she had any idea of what that meant.  Clearly she must have remembered it or it would never have been recorded in Scripture.

          The second Gospel is from John and takes place at the foot of the cross.  Standing there are Mary and the beloved disciple.  Near death, Jesus gives to the beloved disciple Mary, and to Mary the beloved disciple.  And then Mary witnesses the painful death of her Son.

          For most of us there is a tendency to associate suffering with sin.  One suffers because of sin.  If we can’t recall anything in particular we ask the question, “What did I do wrong?”  And while it’s true that sin often results in suffering (sin upsets the balance God creates for our world), we are mistaken if we think all suffering is a result of sin.  We have only to think of Mary to realize that.  In spite of her sinlessness, she knew grief.

          Suffering, grief and loss are part of human life.  I don’t know why it has to be that way, only that it is that way.  Maybe it’s God way of prompting us to think of the promise of eternal life.  We may want heaven on earth, but that’s not possible.  Heaven is our term for eternal happiness.  Oh, we catch glimpses of happiness here on earth: when we experience forgiving love, when we serve one another, when we follow God’s will and our heart realizes it, when God gifts us with a graced moment.  All amazing and wonderful, but not everlasting.  Interspersed is suffering and sorrow.

          In the midst of it all, we’ve been given the gift of faith which helps us endure the painful moments of life.  Faith isn’t meant to eliminate the experience of grief in our lives, but it does help us cope.  Personally, I don’t believe God gives faith to some and not to others; I believe we all have the capacity for faith.  It’s true that not everyone taps into their capacity for faith and perhaps some have never had much of an opportunity, but no one is without the potential. 

          Maybe it’s part of God’s plan to work through us in the lives of others when it comes to faith.  If people witness our faith even in the midst of hardship and pain, suffering and grief, it may stir something within them that leads them to God.  We may never know the effect our faith has on someone else, but we don’t have to know.  God will let us know if we need to know—maybe we’ll find it all out in the next life.

          But then again, it probably doesn’t matter.

          What does matter is how we live out our faith in the present.

          Have a blessed week . . .

September 14th, A note from Fr. Scott

At a recent family gathering, someone mentioned the old TV show “My Three Sons” (I have two brothers and no sisters); the unlikely follow-up question was “What was the name of the dog on the show”?  Of course, no one could remember.  Out came a smart phone and within a matter of seconds we had the information and everyone nodded and said, “Oh, that’s right!  I remember now!”

          TIME magazine recently released an issue with the headline “The Answers Issue: everything you never knew you needed to know”.  It began with an article about the information explosion that now influences our lives.  The demand for maps or travel agents or encyclopedias has diminished, replaced by GPSs, the internet, and Wikipedia.  The article did point out some dangers of this new information age, but insisted our quality of life can be enhanced by what we can now know.

          The magazine then asked and answered multiple questions: What is the most patriotic color?  (Red, the most common color in national flags)  Where do designer dogs come from?  (Deliberate cross-breeding; I now know that actor Jeremy Irons owns a Labradoodle, a cross between a Labrador Retriever and a Poodle)  Are there any safe places left to live (regarding the least likelihood of natural disasters)?  (Areas of Montana and Idaho are your best bets)  They even offered a quiz: “Are you smarter than a teen-ager?”  (I failed miserably, although in my defense it’s been nearly 40 years since I bid adieu to my chronological teen years and more than 25 since I said good-bye to my psychological teen years.)

          The issue even analyzed the U. S. population according to income level.  I was actually surprised to find that the percentage of “very happy” people was highest in those with the highest incomes and lowest in those with the lowest incomes.  Maybe money does buy happiness, although I think not.  It makes me wonder how we define happiness.  Is happiness defined by having what we want?  Personally, I think of that as pleasure, not happiness.  Happiness to me is an inner contentment that reflects our right-relationship with God.  Not surprisingly, the article said nothing about God or faith or religion or morality, but I suppose those topics are not exactly information based or fact based and the article wasn’t geared in that direction.  Still, the questions it posed have far less to do with the quality of life than do questions about God and faith and religion and morality.  If we think sinful lives are happy lives we are only deluding ourselves.     

          This weekend the Church celebrates “The Exaltation of the Holy Cross” (replacing the 24^th Sunday in Ordinary Time).  The cross, of course, represents the suffering of Jesus.  We talk about “carrying our crosses” and by that we refer to burdens that are difficult.  Logically, the cross doesn’t suggest happiness, and yet our faith reminds us that without the cross there is no resurrection.  When Jesus willingly accepted the cross (and the suffering and death to which it led), He became a model for us: we, too, must accept the crosses that come our way by living our faith in a secular world.  The world consistently tells us to reject the cross in favor of easier paths, but our faith teaches us that’s not the way to happiness.

          It’s nice to be able to know things in a matter of seconds, but that won’t fulfill our destiny as children of God.  Making the choice to live our faith each day will.

          By the way, the dog’s name on “My Three Sons” was Tramp.

          Have a blessed week . . .     

September 7th, A note from Donna Bennett

Dear friends,

            I hope your summer vacation was a time  of rest, relaxation, and regrouping as a family.    As September approaches, not only will school start, but also Faith Formation will begin on          September 14^th.  In preparing for all the new     beginnings, let us take time to reflect on what role we as individuals play in passing on our faith to our children and each other.

             As a parent and grandparent myself, I know the stresses that come with these titles.  We want our children to live in a healthy, holy, and happy household.  Ways that we achieve this are by serving wholesome food, making sure they get exercise, and to see to it that they become good learners.

            As parents and grandparents, we lead by example.  We all know that parents are the primary educators of their children.  We, as ministerial staff, support what has already begun at home.  Yet our faith formation challenge remains the same:  to bring Jesus into the lives of our children.  We are also aware of conflicts with sports, dance, skiing, and other programs.

            That’s why we have provided you and your family with three options of Faith Formation opportunities that could work around your hectic schedules.  We will have our traditional Sunday morning program 8:45-10AM, Monday evening program 6-7:15PM and our Family Education session will continue once a month for a two hour session.  If you need a registration form, please call our office at 733-3484, and we will mail one out to you.

            The Diocese has a few new changes to our Sacramental programs.  First of all, the sacrament of Penance will precede the Sacrament of First Eucharist.  So any child who is planning to receive First Eucharist in the spring should plan to receive First Penance this fall.  Any children in second grade or higher should also be receiving First Penance this fall if they have not done so yet.  All notices of Sacramental Preparation meetings and classes will be primarily through the church bulletin.  Our first Sacramental parent meeting will be September 24^th at 7PM at the Faith Formation Center for First Penance.

            We are here to serve you.  If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to contact us.

God Bless,

Donna Bennett

Coordinator for Faith Formation for Children

August 31st, A note from Fr. Scott

          Our summer season is coming to a close.  Most colleges are back in session and local pre-college students will return to the hallowed halls of academic learning this week.  As the amount of daylight decreases, we bid adieu to vacation time and welcome the routine of autumn.  (Well, maybe “welcome” isn’t the word everyone would use—I’m more inclined to use the word “tolerate”.)

          Elmira also sadly bids adieu to the good Sisters of the Dominican Monastery; they have been a presence in Elmira for about 70 years.  As much as we hate to see them go, the leaving must be more difficult for them.  It’s never easy to leave behind friends and the familiar in order to enter a new phase of life.  Adjustments are challenging to say the least.

          Their chaplain, Fr. Tony Breen, will also be leaving Elmira.  Fr. Tony has been a great help in the area—Elmira, Horseheads, Corning, Painted Post and no doubt elsewhere.  He has presided at weekend Masses, weekday Masses, funerals, and Masses at Skilled Nursing Facilities and Senior residences.  He has helped with Confessions and Communal Penance Services and served as the Chaplain to the local chapter of the Knights of Columbus.  He has shared time with the area priests and parishioners and we have all benefited from his friendship and wisdom.

          Good-byes are not easy.

          However, they are part of life.  We’ve all experienced them in various ways.  Whether it’s a loved one who has passed from this life or a family member or friend who moves away, we dread the adjustment required to a life without them.  Sometimes we are the ones who move away.  Learning to let go is challenging and painful, and most of us are at least a little resistant (maybe a lot resistant).  There’s no tried and true formula for making grieving easy—it’s different for each person.  But we must work through it; otherwise we remain in a state of grief for the rest of our lives and that prevents us from experiencing the joys that life offers us.  

          It was back in 1969 that Elisabeth Kubler-Ross published On Death and Dying, the landmark book that has helped us understand the emotions attached to loss.  Dr. Kubler-Ross identified the stages associated with grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance.  While we commonly associate the stages with physical dying, they apply to any impending loss in our lives.  (There is no particular order that a person follows in dealing with the stages.) 

          Some of us have moved a fair amount in our lives; others have pretty much remained in Elmira all lifelong.  But no one has been exempt from good-byes.  I learned through my own journeying that some people are life-long friends; others are very good friends for a period of time—then life circumstances enter and contact ceases.  In a way that’s sad, of course, but also natural.  Humans have a tendency to want to hold on to friendships forever, but that’s not the way it’s meant to be.  We don’t have the time or the energy to keep in close contact with all the people who’ve made a difference in our lives.  Maybe that desire for forever is something that God plants within us so that we grasp the reality of God’s promise of eternal life. 

          Letting go is painful, but it’s not bad.  Unpleasant, yes, but not bad.  Sin is “bad”; that which leads us away from God is “bad”.  Pain itself is not sinful nor does it lead us away from God.  In fact, it can lead us (if we so choose) toward God as we realize how finite we are in our physical being.  We are more than body; we are soul, created in the image and likeness of God.  God is ever calling us to union with Him in the hereafter.

          While grief is necessary as we say “Good-bye” to our friends at the Dominican Monastery, an attitude of thanksgiving for their presence these many years will serve us much better than dwelling on the sadness evoked.

          Have a blessed . . . and thankful . . . week . . .

August 24th, A note from Fr. Scott

        “He’s the most selfish man in the world.”

        So said one man to another as they walked by me.  They were going in the opposite direction so I never did find out the particulars.  Who is “he”?  Why is “he” considered so selfish?  Why were they even talking about “him”?

        I did wonder about the “in the world” part.  Out of nearly seven billion people, “he” was the most selfish?  That’s a lot of people! 

        Of course, the gentleman speaking—maybe I use the word “gentleman” loosely because a real gentleman probably wouldn’t utter such a phrase—was no doubt using that time honored principle of exaggeration to make a point.  I suppose we all do that at one time or another.  Jesus no doubt used a bit of exaggeration in his parables because that was (and is) a way to make a point.  As a human race we seem to have come to the conclusion that “ordinary” is not enough.  We want more; we want flashy; we want spectacular.  So we like restaurants that give us more; we patronize movies that rely on special effects; TV shows must “push the envelope” (bad taste or not); politicians make promises they could never keep; amusement parks and extreme sports must have an element of danger or at least adventure.  “Ordinary” doesn’t make headlines. 

        We sometimes think that God can only be found in the extra-ordinary.  Not true at all.  While God can be extra-ordinary at times, most of the time God is found in the ordinary.  The Gospels contain a lot of information about Jesus, but if His public ministry was three years (or even one year), there’s a lot missing.  And I would guess there were a lot of “ordinary” encounters with people who found the “ordinary” very meaningful and fulfilling. 

        Selfishness, however, is not very meaningful or fulfilling (at least beyond the moment).  I don’t know who the most selfish person in the world is, but most of us probably think we know a candidate or two.  Sometimes I think I’m in the running for the title!  But then I come back to Jesus; I come back to Scripture; I come back to the collected wisdom of the Church and remind myself that I wasn’t created to be self-centered.  I was created to be God-centered and other-centered.  That doesn’t mean that I’m not supposed to take care of myself.  If I don’t eat well, sleep enough, get some exercise, challenge my brain, and find ways to de-stress at times, I won’t be healthy enough to be God-centered and other-centered.  That’s true for all of us.

        Have a healthy, God- and other-centered week . . .

August 17th, A note from Fr. Scott

          I’ve always been amused at the sight of dogs traveling in cars.  I mean the ones who stick their heads out the window and feel the rush of the wind on their faces—especially the ones with long floppy ears blowing in the breeze.  They look like they’re ready to take-off and be air-borne.  (They remind me of Sr. Bertrille, a/k/a “The Flying Nun”, from the 60s television show “The Flying Nun” starring a young Sally Field.  For those too young to recall, Sr. Bertrille could fly when the wind was strong enough—which was every episode—due to her light weight and the aero-dynamic shape of the head-gear that was part of the nun’s habit.  Ludicrous, yes, but entertaining nonetheless.)

          Anyway, I recently was driving near Elmira College when I saw a dog in a baby carriage.  This was not a small dog.  This was a full size black lab, who could barely fit in the baby carriage.  In fact, most of the dog was visible from my driver’s seat with only the posterior of the dog hidden from view.  The dog was sitting, looking most uncomfortable, which made me wonder why such a large dog was in a baby carriage?

          I didn’t stop to ask, but the unusual sight stayed with me.  Maybe the dog was injured and was getting a free ride?  Maybe the dog was the jealous type and wanted the attention babies get in baby carriages?  Who knows?

          I did, however, finally arrived at an explanation that seems logical to me.  Perhaps the dog rode in the carriage as a puppy and for some reason liked the experience.  Regardless of continued growth (that must have made the experience physically uncomfortable) the dog still had fond memories of time spent in the baby carriage and wanted to continue those memories.  Who knows?—but it’s as good an explanation as any.

          Actually humans do something similar all the time.  We keep (and wear) T-shirts or sweat-shirts from a memorable time (vacation or college) even though they are no longer in good condition and we’ve (literally) out-grown them.  We hold on to other possessions from a meaningful time even though they are no longer useful.  We ring bells at the consecration of the Mass because the sound brings us comfort even though the reason for the bells no longer exists (when the Mass was in Latin people needed a signal to let them know what was going on during the Mass; in English people can follow and need no such signal). 

          None of that is necessarily bad, of course.  Memories are important.  They can bring comfort to us, recalling pleasant times or meaningful experiences or noteworthy accomplishments.

          However, while the past is very much a part of us, it’s not healthy (or holy) to live in the past.  The past has shaped us, has brought us to the present and the way we respond to the present will affect our future.  The future can never recapture the past.  We can’t go back, only forward. 

Sometimes we have trouble letting go of the past and adjusting to or accepting the present, which, in our estimation may not be as good as the past.  The “good old days” is a pretty common expression and oftentimes accurate.  The world does seem to get more and more complicated, the gulf between haves and have-nots seems to widen more and more with the passage of time, humans seem to rely more and more on themselves and less and less on God.  Maybe the good old days were better in some ways.

But we still can’t go back.  Only forward.  God is still ever-present to those who seek God, calling us forward to a deeper life of prayer and the sacraments.  We can still choose God over the ways of the world.  Every day we can make that choice.  And I hope most of us can say that our relationship with God is better today than in the past because of time and experience.  And the future can be even better if we let it be because God wants to reveal more and more of Himself to us. 

Let’s be grateful for the good old days, but not lament the present or fear the future.  God is calling us into deeper relationship with Him and that can only be good for us.

Have a blessed week . . .