First Communion Representatives

Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C ~ 

St. Francis Xavier, Mt. Washington KY & 

All Saints, Taylorsville KY

May 5, 2013

         We have entered into the season of sacraments, so to speak. We have a brand new deacon, we’ll soon have a couple of brand new priests, there are countless confirmations and weddings both here, at our sister parish, and throughout the diocese. I addition to these sacraments there are of course first communions. First communions are great aren’t they? The faith of a child growing up, no longer having to come up with arms crossed but now with arms wide open! (SFX – ask those who received first communion last week to come to the front, All Saints – ask the three girls receiving their first communion to come up front.) 

In the first reading we hear that the early Church in Antioch needed good representatives. They had received bad representative already, representatives who gave them news that was more than a little disheartening and their message proved to be a stumbling block between them and their new lives as Christians. The fact that they were born and raised as non-Jews was being held against them as they tried to live a life of conversion in the Body of Christ. It could be said that the heart of the argument from these bad representatives was that these gentiles were not mature enough to be good Christians, they were too young in their faith to make a real commitment, and they needed to go through the adolescence of living as perfect Jews before they could be considered counted among the true followers of Christ.     

Like these early Christians we need good representatives as well. We need representatives to counteract those of the world that tell us we need to have this certain product and then we will be with the in crowd, or we have to make a certain amount of money and then we’ll be considered successful, or we need to have certain kinds of jobs and then we can be considered as living a full life. These worldly representatives feed us this kind of falsehood all the time and do so in more and more inventive ways. These representatives try and complicate our lives by adding to the list of things we need to do in order to fit, in order to have a place. The temptations of the world have as their end making us believe that there is too much between us and true happiness which is union with God. The world also wants us to believe that it is all on us, on the individual person to make it happen. The world says that if you really want salvation then you will have to do it yourself, make it happen for yourself.     

Oh but sisters and brothers there is truly good news here!

We hear in today’s readings that good representatives were in fact chosen: we have the two that Acts names – Judas and Silas, the Twelve Apostles mentioned in the second reading, the Holy Spirit, our advocate promised to us in the Gospel, and then we have Christ himself. We have Christ as a representative who has not left us and headed up to a heaven in the clouds, remaining distant until the second coming. Rather he returns to us time and time again, especially in the Eucharist. The people who caused all the worry and turmoil in Acts were working on their own agenda, but the men that the Church sends were chosen – they were working on the mission of the Church. In a similar way Christ chose his apostles, they did not decide their mission, Christ did; and even Christ and the Holy Spirit are not working on their own strategy but that of the Father. The message of these chosen ones is not complicated, it is not a stumbling block but rather it is a freeing opportunity to journey with God. These representatives do just that – they re-present God; those other representatives well they were not really representing anyone but themselves and their own ideas of how living a life of faith should look.  

Just like that early Christian community we have similar representatives. We still have the words of Judas and Silas, we have the example of the Apostles, and we certainly still have Christ and the Holy Spirit. In this season of sacraments we also have representatives in these children. Christ often talked about a childlike faith and we get to see it in these children who Sunday after Sunday will come forward from now on and be offered the Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and they will say Yes, Amen! These young people have certainly undergone some instruction but nothing as painful as those false representatives wanted to see those early Christians put through. The mentality of those false representatives would have the Church insisting on years and years of instruction and the wisdom that comes with age before one can truly understand what they are saying yes to by saying amen to the Eucharist. The fact is that none of us truly understands completely how the Eucharist is what it is, and that goes for these children as well, but the Church gives voice to God’s desire for them to come forward and receive him nonetheless. The First Communion of these children (was/is) not just for them, and their communion with God, but rather their First Communion (made/makes) them a representation of the Christian life for all of us.

            

In Memoriam: Kurtis Carrico

In Memoriam

Kurtis Ray Carrico

Jan. 27, 1990 - Dec. 29, 2012

Kurtis’ Funeral Eulogy

Thursday January 3, 2013

On behalf of the family, and on behalf of Kurtis, I want to thank you all for being here. It means so much to us, and I know it means a lot to him.

(After a pause) You know I do not think that Kurtis could forgive me if I passed up this opportunity to say that I do indeed know what a Eugougoly is.

(Allowing the laughter to calm down from those 30 and younger I continue.)

You may or may not know that Kurtis and I share a birthday, exactly seven years apart; and it was from this very early time that I began to have a sense that it was my job to look after him, to protect him.

This sense was made all the more real when Kurtis got a bit older and he started by coming and climbing into bed with me. That worked for a while, but soon that little twin bed became a bit too cramped for the both of us. So I suggested, and perhaps even helped him the first time or two, that instead of sleeping in my bed he make his own bed on the floor next to mine. So for years it seems he would bring his pillow and a couple of blankets and make himself a bed right there next to mine. This went on for so long that I had to relearn how to get out of bed once he stopped needing to come over to mine. You see I learned to scoot closer to the end of the bed before getting out as to not step on him in the process. With that my need to look out for him grew.

The story that I really believe captures this feeling of needing to protect Kurtis took place when I was probably 12 or 13, Kevin was 10 or so, and Kurtis would have been about 6; and at that time at least I was still a bit bigger than they were – not that that continued for much longer, and certainly Kevin and I were a lot bigger than Kurtis. Well we were down at this park in southern Kentucky that we went too often as a family and the three of us encountered a small flock of geese by the lakeshore and as we walked towards them we ended up pushing them into the lake. (I should have said that Amanda knew better than to get involved with this kind of animal harassment.) Well we, or maybe I should say I, got the bright idea to push a much larger flock of geese, further along the shore, into the lake in the same way. Well geese are vile creatures, beautiful but vile, vile creatures, and there were possibly even a few swans in this larger flock. Equally as beautiful, but even more vile creatures than geese. Well I got on one side of this flock and Kevin got on the other, with Kurtis in the middle, and we began to push these vile creatures into the lake. Well it wasn’t until I heard the screaming and the squawking that I realized that as Kevin and I were walking forward we were actually pushing the geese not into the lake, but towards Kurtis. All I could think was Kurtis is going to get one of his tiny fingers bit off, and I’m going to get in trouble. As the young strategist that I was, I called to Kevin to slowly back away and walk towards Kurtis and the two of us quickly took the pressure off of him. Thankfully he had all of his fingers and did not get bit, but I figured from then on I had to make sure that Kurtis didn’t get bit.   

Well like those geese the world got ahead of Kurtis, which isn’t surprising as he preferred to hang back anyways, and let others go first; and as we were all focused on the world in front of us we didn’t realize that those geese were closing in on him. Kurtis wound up getting bit in a bad way, but none of us saw. We were understandably looking ahead at that flock of geese so to speak, trying to push them into that lake.

I don’t remember right now too many little stories about him, I hope they’ll come back to me in time; but what I do know is that I was always happy to see him and he just made things better in his own, small, simple ways. Kurtis you will be greatly missed.

To mom and dad no parent should ever have to bury their child, especially not like this. (I should have added “I love you.”)

Amanda and Kevin – there were four of us and there are still four just in a different way.

(Here I meant to say: To all of those who were never blessed to have met or got to know Kurtis, well I’m not surprised – he didn’t say too much, and he seemed happy with those he knew; but I still wish you could have known him just a little more, he was funny and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were mocking me right now.)

And to all of Kurtis’ friends, I think he would want me to tell you that he wasn’t scared of the ride, he was just sick, but he’ll be waiting at the end for you all, holding your things and wanting to just be with you.

Let’s hold each other in prayer for the difficult days, months, and years that lie ahead until we can be reunited again. 

In Memoriam: Uncle Ted

In Memoriam

Uncle Marion T. (Ted) Carrico

Dec. 5, 1936 - April 25, 2013

Four months ago at my brother Kurtis’ wake service, when I was last able to see Uncle Ted, he told me that I’d be celebrating his funeral soon. At the time I thought that while Ted was obviously beginning to take a turn for the worst, we would still have more time for all of that. Don’t we always think we will have more time? Anyways it turns out that he was right; he waited so to speak, two days before my ordination to pass from this world. Just close enough to ensure that I would be here now. Given the short time between my ordination and today’s celebration one might naturally ask what this newbie could possibly have to say. Fair question, and while my life experiences will continue to add up there is one thing that years of study have shown me, and that is the simple fact that God is the perfection of all things. We’ll return to that theological point here in a minute.  

  

In preparing for this homily I asked dad what people would think if I called Uncle Ted stubborn. No need to cause scandal, right? His answer: people will say you pretty much hit the nail on the head. I think we can all agree that Ted could be a bit stubborn from time to time. Right Aunt Caroline, Aunt Deloris? 

God, however, is the perfection of stubbornness. Yes God is even perfectly stubborn. We hear in the Gospel that this is the will of the Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life. God does not let go, once God has a connection with a person typically first made real in Baptism God never lets go. God is so stubborn that he never gave up on us, going as far as sending his only soon as God made man. This is surety of faith that God will never give up on us, no matter what.

Uncle Ted was more than just stubborn he was also giving. It is striking to think about just how many people have one of Ted’s puzzles. Between family, friends, neighbors, even his cancer doctor I’m told was given a completed puzzle. In this way Ted was a symbol of the perfect generosity of the Father in the act of sending his Son.  In fact one of my favorite memories of Uncle Ted was him sending over a bunch of DVD’s when I had my wisdom teeth removed. No one asked him to help keep me entertained while I recovered, but he knew it would take some time for the drugs to wear off, and he knew what he’d like to have if he was only able to sit around the house all day. Turns out we’re of the same mind when it comes to recovery techniques.

Uncle Ted could also be playful; stories of him sitting around at the convenient store, talking with the regulars as they came and went, make his memory all the more real. Sometimes the pointed jokes between old friends can seem hurtful, especially to those on the outside, but underneath it is a real sign of trust and concern for the other. God is the perfection of this kind of playfulness. I would never say that God shows his playfulness through cancer, human suffering is not God’s idea of a bad joke, but rather Ted’s humanness in the face of that pain reveals God’s true playfulness. Where did Ted get the courage to continue his visits to the store, where did that desire for one more round of golf get its energy? There is something human about trying to find the good in bad situations and I believe this is connected to God’s playfulness, God’s perfect ability to see the good within the bad and through a wisecrack in every now and then.  I wonder what God’s last little dig for this self-proclaimed bachelor would be? I imagine for a man that never wanted a women to tell him what to do it would be Grandma, his mother, showing him around his new place telling him all about how she’s done things while waiting for him to join her and his father in God’s loving embrace. 

la Frontera:

In the Spanish language the word for a political border is la frontera, the frontier. During our recent trip to the Mexico – U.S. border with my class that we took during our time at the Mexican American Catholic College this difference in phrasing was on my mind. For the Spanish speaking mind a boundary is not something meant to be final and definite, but something much more abstract and yet equally foreign. A frontier demonstrates that growth is possible and perhaps even called for. This is not to say that a Spanish speaker necessarily thinks that their political boundaries are meant to ever expand, but that they instead have a different way of looking at where one thing ends and another begins. Instead of a definite boundary there is a region of liminality where both interact in an exchange.

If one looks at faith as a journey, an image that has held a strong place in my life for many years, then the frontier is a place where one may be called to travel. The new evangelization, and one’s acceptance of continual conversion, seems to require that we enter into these areas of exchange between what we are comfortable with and what we may be less comfortable with. The immigrant gives us an example of this willingness to cross the frontier. These individuals are lacking crucial aspects of their lives, such as safety and economic stability, and are primarily in search of those things. Those of us who routinely experience our basic human needs being met have the opportunity to cross a different, but similar, kind of frontier to find greater communion with God in the sacraments and in the Church. One never really experiences fulfillment in this life, that kind a beauty and happiness is reserved for the beatific vision in the life to come, and so we always have the opportunity to grow by entering the frontier as our own kind of immigrant; an immigrant on the way to the Kingdom of God. 

    

1. First Photo: http://www.longislandwins.com/images/editorial/20110710-feature.JPG

Lining up… for Shoes?

A few days before Christmas an interesting thing took place that I have been reflecting on since. The 2011 Air Jordan’s were released; a little more than a week before it closed… the 2011’s were released. Clearly this was a savvy business move, but what were the moral implications?  

People were already out in droves, finishing up their Christmas shopping, and looking for that perfect gift. They were in the mood to buy, and then these shoes were released. Fights broke out in several locations because of the intense desire for the limited number of this exceedingly expensive footwear. Now I believe that these shoes, designed for athletic activity, should be considered expensive for the majority of people; but when these shoes are arguably marketed to those who are already at an economic disadvantage, the moral question becomes ever more focused. People were physically injured with the release of these shoes, and it could have been worse. It is not hard to imagine what emotionally aroused people are capable of when confronted with obstacles to their desire. A good business move but was it worth the risk? I think not, but I’m no shoe executive.    

This example of the consumerist focus of the Christmas season is just one of many that could be used to point out that many of us are not standing in line, waiting for the coming of Christ; instead we often find ourselves waiting for the release of shoes. Humanity is fallen, and so it is easy to become distracted, but we are consistently called to something ever greater.

How many lined up for the release, the birth, of Jesus on that first Christmas?  Very few, in actually, there were just a group of disadvantaged migrant workers looking for the promise of something better. That made little difference, however, because Jesus was not born only for those that initially lined up for him, but for all.

The shoes will be worn out and forgotten, those that were turned away disappointed will get over it, and the call to salvation will still be there. Will we go from one line to the next, and to the next, and to the next? Or will you and I join together for something greater? The call is always there; unfortunately the distractions will be there as well, but the whisper of Jesus can always be sought out and responded to.

          

1. First Photo: http://www.flyerjordan.com/images/Air-Jordan-2011/Air-Jordan-2011-Black-White-Blue_1.jpg
2. Second Photo: http://www.longislandwins.com/images/editorial/20110710-shoes.JPG 
3. Third Photo: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d0/Philmont_Scout_Ranch_boots_around_sign.jp    g
4. Fourth Photo: http://leineriza.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/Communion.png

He Never Said This Wouldn't Hurt

Reflection for Sunday of the Fifth week of Easter, Year B

He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, 

and every one that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit. ~ John 15:2

Pruning can be painful. 

I once visited a local winery with a group of friends, and one of the owners was out there in the fields, showing us around. With pruning shear holstered on his belt he walked along the rows of vines explaining to us the different kinds of vines they grew there, how they get them to grow, as well as the pruning process itself. It was second nature to him. He would not leave the vines alone, he was constantly pruning them! In some ways it was force of habit; but his love for the vines, the fruit they would eventually produce, and the wine that would be made from those fruits was evident in his near obsession with pruning. In his zeal I imagine he routinely returns to the same branch pruning a little more until something inside him feels at ease that this branch will bear good fruit. 

Oh how we have been honored with the presence of the divine vine dresser who, having taken on mortal flesh, is ever more adept at knowing just how much to prune away. I don't imagine that the vines much like being pruned. If they could talk would they not say "I spent a lot of time growing those branches, and you just cut them off!" Pruning, even the pruning of Christ, is painful.We too may say "I've spent a lot of time on those bad habits, and now you want to take them away?" 

As I wrap up the semester, trying to find the time and the energy to work on the paper that need finishing, and pack up the room that continues to descend into chaos, I am pulled between the overly productive person that I want to be and the lazy person I fear I am. Neither of these is exactly what God is calling me to be. Both of these visions of myself need pruning in their own way. Instead of lifting the fruits up to God, how often do I try and hold then back, fearful of them being pruned away and taken as the fruit for the kingdom? 

The harvest is plentiful, as the saying from Matthew goes, but the laborers are few. When I look around I do not see signs of God abandoning us, the people of God. Even when times are hard Christ is there helping the fruit to grow, by pruning where needed, and constantly fertilizing with his grace. Christ is the true vine and therefore the harvest will be plentiful. Will you join me by going out into the vineyard and helping Christ bring in the harvest? Do you want to show God, in deed and truth, that you believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and that you love one another as he commanded us? Then do not hid from the short lived sting of pruning. Rather open yourselves to Christ's tender care, recall the lessons of Lent just recently past, the lessons from that season of pruning, and from those lessons grow fruit in this Easter season.     

1. First Photo: Wikimedia Commons, By Tjeerd Wiersma from Amsterdam, The Netherlands (Groot Constantia 2) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
2. Second Photo: Wikimedia Commons, Christ the True Vine By Anonymous. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

A Lion, Prowling in the Darkness:

This past summer at Philmont Scout Ranch, during the Saint George Trek, my crew and I had an encounter with a mountain lion. The crew debriefed the next day, and I was concerned that part of the discussion included a realization that while we were in danger, we had little other choice but to hike late in the day and into the dark. It was during this discussion that I began to wonder about how people would respond to my telling of the story.

If you haven’t heard me tell the story, basically: we were stalked for two hours (four miles), mostly in the dark, and it has been the scariest experience in my life thus far. I knew that many would be skeptical because I personally did not actually see the mountain lion, I only heard rustling of leaves around us, and I was relying on the my teenage companions for their accounts of actually having seen the lion. It was this realization, that some may not believe me, that made me wonder about skepticism when it comes to a lion of a different sort.

It has often been said that the devil prefers that we not believe in him; that it is in our unbelief that he is most effective. Just like the lion that I encountered, this lion prefers to prowl around in the darkness, not letting his presence known until it is too late. Saint Ignatius describes the devil, the fallen state of the world, and the power of original sin (along with its remnants) as the enemy. It is often helpful to think of the three along the same lines; as that which strives to attract us to sin and away from God.

Of course it is possible to mistakenly see a lion in the darkness that is not really there; nevertheless it is the lack of light that makes it possible for doubt to exist. In my experience it was the lack of light in the darkness that made it all the more terrifying, and my weak flashlight was not enough to reassure me. What provided the reassurance I needed were those who were with me… the twelve of us made our way through the darkness together, scared but safe.

Perhaps it is best to rely on the light of Christ, found in and of itself, and in each other, to show us what is really out there; instead of relying on our own skepticism and judgment we could rely on God to reveal the way.

1. First Photo: Philmont Scout Ranch, setting sun near Hunting Lodge
2. Second Photo: Philmont Scout Ranch, Rising sun over Cimarroncito Reservoir before our morning Mass, Saint George Trek 2011