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TOM McMAHON... |
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ARTICLE
NAVIGATION: You are presently looking at Part X  Easter … the life-long struggle to get out of man-made tombs … a Christian life is a series of deaths and resurrections … Christian psychology An attitude towards life and a way of living… I finish this article on Bad Friday — the day the power boys racked up Jesus on that Hill of Calvary two thousand years ago. I did not go to church to ceremonialize his story. I read the Passion at home and meditated on what the death of Jesus meant to me. I like the idea that Jesus lived on after he died, the problem being how? I have heard the Jesus story over and over, now preferring to see how it plays out in my present life. In my 79 years I have experienced many a resurrection and much new life; Jesus is very much alive in today's world. The Jew Jesus now appears under many ethnic forms and his struggle to live is ongoing. I am aware that Easter is the ancient Roman goddess of new life. The word religion is from the latin religare — to tie together like shoelaces; I puzzle with the idea that a man-made religion can tie me to God, whereas the Divine Mystery seems to have me all wrapped up in unseparable creation. Christianity is an attitude toward life and a way of living. As I write I recall two experiences which are permanently seared into my psyche; moments of truth that profoundly effected my priesthood and future….to this day and this writing. My family came "Across the Bay" (provincial native San Francisco talk for any place outside THE CITY) to hear Mass as this newly-ordained priest preached. Mom was very devoted to Eucharist, having received her First Communion at age 16 (as was the custom before Pius the 10th); Mom, a widow in 1931 with four kids, relished a good sermon. After I waxed eloquently I made the fatal mistake of asking "well Mom what did you think of my sermon?" With loving eyes Mom looked straight at me, took me by the arm and gently said "son, you are so naïve and sheltered; you really don't know much about life!" Mom carried a resurrection thyme throughout her life. A short time later, after having prepared a written sermon on Catholic Charities I was again in the pulpit … and all those wonderful people sitting there hanging on my every word … and as I read I realized I was bored with my own text … and I stopped, looked up and out and said "this is so boring" and I took the paper and tore it into four parts … and then we just looked at one another … and many smiled (1955), giving me permission to begin my departure from the clerical world … and I finished stumbling along with my personal feeling about working with needy people. Thereafter for years I had an outline yet never again did I write a sermon; I desperately made effort to visit families and find out what was in their minds. The slow process of resurrection was taking place in this once-upon-a-time seminarian, now an ordained lost–in-the-woods priest.
Vatican Two opened my freedom gates and I had the privilege of having "dialogue homily " with the community for ten years; I would have only one public reading, a Gospel story, my offering a two minute reflection and then opening up to people sharing/discussion. Jesus was coming alive in the daily experiences of our community. The year I left institutional ministry a 60 year old woman came up to me after Mass and took me by the hands and like my mother looked me in the eye approvingly saying "Father, I'm from Los Angeles and no one need ever know about our present conversation; you have to have a son to talk and interpret the Gospel the way you did today". I smiled and simply said "I have two sons". She hugged me and left. My education into a new psychology of life and Jesus had made the exchange possible. In my very flesh I had experienced the process of a Jesus resurrection — new life coming from the dead bones of seminary training. I recommend to all priestly candidates the discovery of the beautiful mystery of God so cleverly hidden in all creation. I would find myself after the '60s quietly singing the Beatles' Eleanor Rigby … "…… Father McKenzie, darning his socks and writing a sermon no one will hear ……". Those English lads were on to something. A first lesson in psychology… I taught myself my first lesson in psychology as a boy of nine. Mom and I were in Mr. Aufaulter's butcher shop Looking back I connect the dots, my American family's ethnic prejudices and Mr. A being a German, along with Mother an 8-year widow being poor at social relationship with a male and possibly angry at my father for dying. Mom requests the butcher grind up some chuck meat and he says in heavy guttural tone "Mrs McMahon, I have hamburger already ground" and Mom "but Mr. Aufaulter you have fat in that" and Mr. A in high pitched tone "that is not so Mrs McMahon" … and on and on they went, until I stepped in front of my mother with my back to the butcher and backed my mother out of the store. I did not get my clinical license until 30 years later, but I did develop listening and analytic skills as I learned to listen before I spoke, especially during my 26 years sitting in the Catholic confessional. Jesus at times takes his time to come to life; ceremonial ordination does not create a fully alive Savior. A non-judgmental Jesus talking with the woman at the well was my model. I was not a Luther's dung hill; I was a beautiful creature in process of maturation. The seeds of Jesus' spirit first sewn by my mother were coming alive. My life-long struggle would be to acknowledge the goodness of the Creator in all life; creation is nothing more than a multitude of daily resurrections. … Jesuits say: AD MAJOREM GLORIAM DEI …… TO THE GREATER GLORY OF GOD … Bungling by top command and supplies never arrive…
As I read the book I thought often of my ordained classmates who have valiantly stayed committed to their work with their people, pawns in the hands of a bungling hierarchy in a dying feudal version of church. As a teenage boy I followed the war in the Pacific, my brother Jim on board the kamikaze hit cruiser USS Nashville and my mother almost driven crazy with two of her sons at sea … and I safe in seminary. I was kept out of the world with an expectation that I would continue such separation as a priest. This is not the mind of Jesus. Jesus did not select individuals to follow him; each individual accepted Jesus and his way, voluntarily becoming a follower. This is the basis for the tragic denial by Peter as the Rock denies his own commitment. Years into institutional priesthood I began to meditate on Jesus encouraging his followers not to be afraid. I no longer can give the exact quote as the Master mythically counsels not to be afraid of picking up poisonous and lethal snakes. I do know that after Vatican Two I encountered the world finding that the poison lay back in my seminary training and had infected us kids by fostering clericalism. In my 2008 reading of Kuribayashi's compassionate letters home as well as his concern for his men I softened considerably toward my once enemy. SO SAD TO FALL is the human story of soldiers who died particularly for the cause of protecting their loved ones and their homes. I would hope my piece on priesthood is a tribute to those who have fallen in the church battle over celibacy, a dignified and rightful place in church administration for women, and the rights and freedom of a universal people. In struggles there are victims on every side and in every corner of the earth. We have no need for verbal bombardments or religious court martials; we have a need to sit at the hospitality table of Jesus and listen to the Christ as he tells us how to live a meaningful life. We need to allow the Jesus of the Emmaus story to come into our midst with his wisdom, healing, and salvation. Lord, we are worthy of your ministry … send forth your Spirit and use us as instruments of your peace. Like Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Kuribayashi was a Jesus-type priest figure for those on Iwo Jima, laying down his life for his friends. Lord Jesus, as you gave your first followers, give us this day our daily bread (word and unity sign) … and lead us into peace on earth … may your Father's Kingdom Come and Thy Will Be Done … . I just returned from buying some kitty litter at our local Costco super store; one need be alert as rushing crowds of shoppers race their carts through crowded isles. If I could 'preach' this Easter Sunday at the two local churches in which I served for 12 years my subject would be 'how to be a follower of Jesus in the supermart'. and I would encourage them to join the followers of Jesus in turning off their TV sets during the Olympics as a protest against China's brutality in Tibet. I believe: CHRIST HAS DIED! CHRIST HAS RISEN! CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN! And oh, how that depends on our openness to the patient Holy Spirit of Jesus……please! Tom in San Jose, allow the Spirit to work in you … quo vadis, Domine? … Oh, no! do I have to first go to that terrible hill? ….unless the seed fall into the ground and die there is no future life... Adsum. Hopefully next week: a psychology of Trentan seminary and priesthood. Tom McMahon, San Jose ….bad Friday 2008! Tom McMahon, San Jose, Ca., 21/03/08 — bad Friday 2008!  NEXT WEEK: Hopefully, a psychology of Trentan seminary and priesthood.. ARTICLE
NAVIGATION: You are presently looking at Part X
What are your thoughts on this commentary by Tom McMahon? You can contribute to the discussion in our forum. ©2008 Tom McMahon |
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