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 . . . 

August 10th, A note from Fr. Scott

          My Spiritual Director, whom I travel to see in Syracuse about once a month, recently recommended a book for me.  Authored by Michael Casey, the book is called Fully Human, Fully Divine.  Brother Casey, a Cistercian monk from Australia, uses the Gospel of Mark to explore the humanity of Jesus, revealing much about our own humanity. 

I haven’t gotten too far in the book yet, but early on the author addresses the question: What did Jesus look like?  Of course, there are no photos of Jesus for us to view, but must of us probably have an image in our minds of what Jesus may have looked like.  Most likely our image comes from artists’ renderings of Jesus, which, of course, are no more accurate than what we might imagine.  Such paintings simply capture the artist’s idea of how Jesus looked—no more than a guess really.

So most of us have in our minds at least a vague picture of what Jesus may have looked like.  In truth, it may help in our prayer life if we have an image, but we need to realize it may be far from reality. 

Our cultural background probably influences our image.  If we are of northern European descent we might picture Jesus as fair-skinned and blue-eyed; if we are of African descent we may picture Jesus as dark-skinned with dark eyes.  I remember an episode of the old TV show “All in the Family” in which Archie Bunker (Caucasian) was having a disagreement with Mr. Jefferson (African-American) about the color of Jesus’ skin.  Archie insisted Jesus was white; Mr. Jefferson insisted he was black (of Ethiopian descent).  Of course, nothing was resolved; the two characters simply got angrier and angrier at each other (while the audience howled with laughter).

Maybe there was a reason that Jesus came among us before cameras and artists began to capture people’s looks.  (Thank goodness there were no selfies back then!)  Maybe it’s best if we don’t know what Jesus looked like because we tend to be judgmental about looks.  Certainly God never intended a particular group of people to embrace Jesus, while excluding others.  Certainly God never intended for anyone to judge Jesus based on his outward appearance.  Maybe He was short; maybe tall.  Maybe He was overweight; maybe too thin.  Maybe He was handsome; maybe plain or homely. 

Most of us probably think he was tall, handsome and muscular; but why do we think that?  Is it because we believe Jesus was perfect and therefore had to look perfect (at least the way most of define perfect)?  Jesus was fully human, like us in all things but sin.  But being fully human applies to both tall and short; to both thin and fat; to both handsome/beautiful and homely.  If we think otherwise, we’re mistaken. 

If we stop and think about it, we realize that how we look on the outside matters not to God at all.  God looks at the inside, at the heart.  That’s what Jesus did.  There’s no evidence whatsoever that Jesus placed any importance on outward appearance.  So why do we?  Because the culture around us does? 

Next time we judge someone on their looks, maybe we can stop and remember that’s not what God asks of us.  God asks us to try and see the heart.  Not an easy task, of course, but the more time we spend in quality prayer, the more likely we’ll be able to look inside rather than focus on the outside appearance.    

Have a blessed week . . .  

August 3rd, A note from Fr. Scott

          “You have got to be kidding me.”

          A friend of mine says that often, with an emphasis on the “got”.  Of course, she uses the phrase to express a sense of disbelief over some unexpected occurrence.  It’s never an expression of delight, only an expression of dismay (or anger or hurt or disappointment).  In a culture of over-used expletives, it’s actually quite a polite saying.

          “You have got to be kidding me.”  That thought went through my mind on the last day of a recent vacation.  Now, it’s important to point out that I have never mastered the art of “packing lightly”; no, I come from the school of thought that begins every packing experience with, “What if . . .?”  I can imagine multiple scenarios that could happen (and which almost never do) and so I wish to be prepared for every eventuality.  (I have a wide imagination.)  Additionally, my mother was with me and while she packs much lighter than I do, she arrives at the destination with some luggage.

          So on the last day, I grab a luggage cart from the lobby and bring it up to our room—6^th and highest floor.  I (over)load the cart and go wait for the elevator.  I push the button and wait . . . and wait . . . I wasn’t overly impatient because I knew the two elevators were always busy in the morning.  Finally the little light goes out on the down button (there is no “up” button, of course) and I know the elevator is set to open.  It opens and there in the elevator is a whole group of people (and one full luggage cart).  Since this is the 6^th and highest floor, I expect them all to disembark, allowing me to enter with my luggage cart.  That would be the logical happening.

          However, as is so often the case, logic doesn’t rule the day and no one moves.  Then I hear: “Push the ‘G’ button.”  (‘G’, of course, standing for “Ground Floor”.)  

          “You have got to be kidding me.”

          All those people got on an ascending elevator when they actually wanted to descend!  I mean, I know it happens because I’ve done it, but a whole group of people?!  What were they thinking?  That’s just it—they weren’t thinking; they just followed the misled leader.

          I, of course, had to wait for the next elevator.

          It does seem to be a human characteristic to blindly follow a leader.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing.  We listen to doctors, lawyers, contractors, coaches and financial planners (among others) because we know they have expertise in areas we do not.  We follow blindly because we trust them (to a certain extent).  Children blindly follow their parents out of trust (until they reach that rebellious stage).  Some of us blindly follow the teachings of the Church because we believe in the gathered wisdom of the ages, realizing some of it is beyond our comprehension.  Again, not a bad thing.

          I do believe, however, that God does want us to think for ourselves to some extent.  Human error has shown that blindly following is at times unwise.  The first disciples weren’t called to blindly follow Jesus.  Jesus taught them and made them think through the parables; He challenged them to understand that being a disciple wasn’t an easy undertaking; He chided them for thinking like humans rather than like God. 

          There are many human leaders who have much to offer and to whom we ought to listen, but there is only one Jesus; He’s the One Who leads us to eternal happiness.  And I’m not kidding!

          Have a blessed week . . .

July 27th, A note from Fr. Scott

In most parishes in the Diocese of Rochester, summer is a quieter time of the year.  (Lake communities are an exception.)  Fewer meetings take place; parishioners take vacations; Faith Formation sessions are on break for the most part.  Summer provides an opportunity to slow down and relax.

          That being so, I’m taking a little time to take inventory of my “stuff”.  By “stuff” I mean all the things I’ve accumulated over the years, including mounds of paper containing minutes from meetings, financial statements, articles that could be beneficial to read, presentations I’ve given over the years, etc.  Additional “stuff” includes knickknacks, recordings, books, etc.  As I’ve admitted in the past, I’m somewhat organizationally challenged.

          The process is slow-going because I have to look through each piece of paper to decide whether or not it ought to be kept.  Do I really need bank statements from years back?  (Mostly no.)  Do I really need minutes from a committee meeting that took place at a different parish while I was there?  (Not likely.)  What about bills I paid years ago or directories from years ago?  (Why do I still have these?)  Clearly I don’t throw away a lot of “stuff”.

          However, I’m determined to change that.

          Except it’s not that easy.

          While I’m pretty good for the first 10 or 15 minutes—my throw-away pile is larger than my “keep” pile in the beginning—after that initial burst of downsizing enthusiasm, sentimentality begins to kick in and the “keep” pile starts to grow and soon overtakes the “throw-away” pile.  That’s because amidst the “stuff” are many meaningful cards and gifts.  They remind me of the person who gave them to me or of a pleasant memory from the past.  Do I really want to remove the tangible connection to those memories?  Too often I weaken and give in to sentimentality. 

I’m not sure that’s a good thing.  Not that I think being a little sentimental is bad, but when sentimentality leads to a certain sense of paralysis (not being able to part with “stuff”), there is a problem.  Being too attached to anything (other than God) isn’t the healthiest way to be.  “Stuff” (which in its wider meaning can include living things like people and animals) ought not be the focus of life.  God is the focus of life; for the Catholic Christian the focus of life is the Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit.  God provides direction and meaning to life in a way “stuff” never can.  I believe that whole-heartedly, even as I struggle with detachment from “stuff”.  Fortunately, God is amazingly patient with me—with all of us actually—although I think God likes to see some positive effort as we journey through life.  God does hope that we are learning what really matters in the long run.

Have a blessed week . . .  

July 13th, A note from Fr. Scott

One of the more popular songs of the last few months is Pharrell Williams’ “Happy” (from the film “Despicable Me 2”).  While the tune is catchy, the words don’t seem to say a whole lot, although the word “Happy” appears multiple times in the song.  Maybe that’s why the song has been played often these past few months: everyone wants to be happy.

          However, I wonder if we’ve lost a true sense of what happiness is.  For example, just in the past few days I’ve noticed advertisements stressing the words “happy” and “joy”.  No, the advertisements have nothing to do with Church or faith or religion; they’re not about ways to de-stress one’s life; they’re not about insurance or ways to be financially secure. 

          The advertisements are about consumer goods, specifically food.  Eat this, drink that, and you’ll be “happy”.  It seems to me that we’ve reduced the notion of happiness or joy from an innate longing for ultimate fulfillment to what I would call “momentary pleasure”.  (I would even suggest that the desire to be happy is a longing for union with God, which is eternal satisfaction, not just “momentary pleasure”.)

          However, there’s not a lot of money in focusing on eternal things, so clever marketers bring the idea of “happy” into the present moment.  McDonald’s has had its “Happy Meal” for a long time and retail sales have emphasized “Happy” Holidays as a way to keep the public spending.  So we issue what has become a standard greeting to one another on special occasions: “Happy Easter”, “Happy Thanksgiving”, “Happy Valentine’s Day”, “Happy Fourth of July”, “Happy St. Patrick’s Day”, “Happy New Year”, “Happy Groundhog Day”.  Of course, the venerable “Happy Birthday” has been around a long time.  In using the greetings, we offer well wishes (“momentary pleasure”) to others—not a bad thing, of course, but it does focus an awful lot on the present moment.

          As Catholic Christians, we certainly don’t ignore the present moment, but we are keenly aware that the goal of life is not to experience as much “momentary pleasure” as we can; the goal of life is to live life in such a way that we will one day know eternal happiness.  That goal can only be achieved by embracing that to which God calls us: Scripture gives us advice, counsel, consolation, encouragement and challenge, and the sacraments are God’s way of encountering us in a deep and lasting way.  We must not only listen to, but also follow, what Jesus tells us: love God with our whole being (learning to do that is a lifelong process) and our neighbor as ourselves (often sacrificing our own wants for the good of someone else).

          Unfortunately, the culture surrounding us has little interest in things eternal (I think it did many years ago)—God and faith and prayer are best kept out of normal everyday life (according to the culture)—and so we are bombarded with opportunities to be “happy today”.  I would venture to say that’s a recipe for ultimate disaster.  Every great civilization declined when individual happiness in the present moment became more important than building for the future.  The “I” and “me” became more important than the “we” and “us”.  

Fortunately, as Catholic Christians we’ve been given the gift of the Holy Spirit, Who continually reminds us (if we’re listening) of what really matters in life.  Unfortunately, sometimes the voice of the Holy Spirit gets drowned out by the noise of the surrounding culture.  The Good News is that we can make a conscious decision to listen more to the former than to the latter.  The Bad News is that no one else will do it for us.

Have a blessed week . . . filled with the Good News of what really leads to happiness . . .

July 6th, A note from Fr. Scott

          It’s actually happening.

          Slowly, but surely.

          People in our country are watching the World Cup.  Maybe not in huge numbers, but more people watched the first U. S. match than watched the final game of the Stanley Cup and almost as many as watched the last game of the NBA championships.

          Futball (or soccer as we term it) is the most popular game in the world.  It’s always flown below the radar in the United States, in spite of the fact that most current young adults played soccer while growing up.  Still, football, baseball, basketball and hockey have always been the big four and most attention has drifted toward those big money sports.

          Why has futball (soccer) not caught on in the U. S. like it has in the rest of the world?  It’s fairly inexpensive to play—a ball and a goal comprise the necessary equipment, and maybe uniforms. 

          Has it not caught on because it’s not action oriented enough?  Scoring is often low (0-0 ties are not uncommon) and we associate scoring with action.  (Defense never quite gets as much respect as offense.)  For the last 30-40 years it seems to me that our culture has over-emphasized the importance of action.  Movies that are action oriented tend to be far more popular than quiet stories that make you think; and while some children choose reading over video games, my guess is that the latter get far more attention than the former.  (When I watch the screen of video games—not very often admittedly—I have no idea what’s happening.  Too much movement for me to follow!) 

          It seems to me that many sports enthusiasts judge futball (soccer) to be “boring”, precisely because it lacks compelling (exciting) action.  

          Apparently somehow our culture has taught us that we need excitement, and we buy into the notion that lots of action provides such excitement, fulfilling a “need” we have.  (It’s actually a want, not a need.)  I’m not sure why excitement is so appealing to humans.  Is it that excitement makes us feel good, at least momentarily?  (Everyone likes to feel good.)   

          A couple of weeks ago, there was a Holy Hour in honor of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  We did something I had never done before: we processed with the Blessed Sacrament outside, circling the church.  There isn’t a lot of action or excitement in processing, but as cars went by and people watched us process, I had this unexpected surge of pride in our Catholic belief in the Real Presence.  For me, there was a sense of “quiet excitement” about that.  It was better than scoring a goal at the World Cup!  (At least for me)

          I write this two weeks before the bulletin comes out, so I have no idea how the U. S. will fare in the World Cup, but I do know that the world watches in great numbers no matter who makes it to the end.  (Fewer Americans watch if the U. S isn’t involved.)  If a couple of billion people are transfixed by a “boring” sport, maybe we need to review what we value.  (While our relationship with God does require some action on our part—loving our neighbor requires some involvement—it also requires an appreciation of the quiet in life.)  It’s not always easy to detect God’s presence when we keep searching for what our culture tells us we need in terms of excitement. 

What we might term “boring” might actually be what we need most in our lives.  Being reflectively quiet is more likely to connect us with God than is all the excitement in the world.  And that connection is what leads us to fulfillment.

          Have a blessed . . . and fulfilling . . . week!